Take a chance | mikey

13

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the obi around my waist. The kimono I'd chosen was a soft shade of pink, delicate cherry blossoms embroidered along the fabric. I wasn't usually one to dress up like this, but tonight felt different—maybe it was the festival or maybe... well, I didn't want to overthink it.

To add a touch of flair, I applied a bit of light makeup, pinning my hair up with a few strands left to cascade softly around my face. When I finally stepped back to admire the whole look, I couldn't help but smile. Okay, I thought I looked pretty good.

My phone buzzed on the dresser, interrupting my moment of self-appreciation. It was a text from Emma.

emma <3: you ready?
me: yeah, Mikey said he'd pick me up.
emma <3: smirking emoji
me: EMMA STOP.
emma <3: hehehe

I rolled my eyes and set the phone down, a grin tugging at my lips despite myself.

As I finished adjusting the last strand of hair, my phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a text. I glanced at the screen and saw Mikey's name flashing back at me. With a quick inhale, I answered, bringing the phone up to my ear.

"I'm out," he said, his voice casual as ever, but it sent a flutter through my chest—a mix of nerves and anticipation.

"Okay, coming," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

I grabbed my things, took one last look in the mirror, and headed for the door. 

As I stepped out, Mikey turned his head, his usual laid-back expression shifting for a brief moment as his eyes settled on me. He didn't say anything right away, just took me in, his gaze lingering longer than usual.

Finally, he broke into one of his trademark grins, but there was a softness to it that made my heart skip. "You look good, Yuri," he said, the casual tone of his voice contrasting with the intensity in his gaze.

He held out a helmet, and as I took it, our fingers brushed lightly. "Ready to go?" he asked, still watching me with that same quiet intensity.

"Yeah," I nodded, slipping on the helmet and feeling a bit more at ease now that things were moving along. 

As we rode toward the festival, the wind rushed past us, cool and crisp, like it was trying to whisper something I couldn't quite catch. Mikey's phone buzzed against his side, over and over, like it was screaming for attention. I leaned in closer, the distance between us shrinking even more.

"Mikey," I called out, my voice barely cutting through the noise around us. "You should answer that. What if it's important?"

He hesitated for just a second, but then reached for his phone, one hand steady on the handlebars. I caught a glimpse of the screen—Peh-yan. The way Mikey's expression changed, the way his usual carefree look vanished in an instant, made my stomach drop.

"Peh-yan, what's going on?" Mikey's voice was different now, sharper, like it had been carved out of stone. I couldn't hear the other side, but whatever Peh-yan was saying, it had Mikey on edge.

"Kenchin's been kidnapped," Mikey repeated, the words slicing through the air like a cold blade. "Where?"

A pause, and then something darker settled in Mikey's eyes. "Got it." The call ended abruptly, the silence afterward feeling like a loaded gun.

Mikey shoved the phone back in his pocket, turning to glance at me, his gaze intense. "Hold on tight," he said, the words almost a command.

Before I could even breathe, the bike lurched forward, speeding up so fast it felt like we were trying to outrun the night itself. The world blurred around us, but all I could focus on was the urgency in Mikey's voice, the way his body tensed as we raced through the streets.