Akira Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Project: Evolution ❯ Highway 03: Kickstart My Heart ( Chapter 3 )

Highway 03

Kickstart My Heart

 

It didn't happen the way Tetsuo had always heard it happens. It wasn't really sudden—there was no wham involved—and he most certainly didn't “just know” when it struck, or for some time after.

But he did know from the first that she was a hell of a girl.

He was in the well-hated Speech class with Kinuko the first time he saw the girl, but she stood out easily; her hair was brown with a shock of stark white parted to either side, and her lipstick and eye shadow were a dark, cool shade. It was Wednesday, then, the first time he saw her in class—two days since he and Kinuko had started showing up at school—and he couldn't help but grin appreciatively at what he took to be a classic act of delinquency. She was cute, too, even if she had a goth look going on; but her voice was something else entirely.

“Y'all new heah?” was the first thing Tetsuo heard her say. It wasn't what he had expected, given her fashion sense—but moreover, Hideo's love of all things American had rubbed off on Tetsuo over the years, and nothing seemed more American to them than a classic southern accent.

“Eeh? Sure am,” answered Tetsuo, feet kicked up on the desk in front of him as he leaned back in his chair recklessly despite the (ignored) warnings from the teacher. “Oi, whattabout you, Scarlet? We've been showin' here since Monday, an' I know if I'da seen you `round, I'd remember for sure.”

The grin he flashed didn't exactly make her swoon; she rested a hand on her hip briefly, eying him critically, then shook her head and sat down at a place which had been empty, not far from Tetsuo and Kinuko's seats near the back of the classroom.

“`least y'ah friendly,” she answered dryly.

“Hellyah! Oi, so you gotta name, Belle?”

“It's Rogue,” she replied, after a pause.

“Rogue, huh? Y'can call me Tetsuo,” he countered, grinning again.

“Making new `friends,' Tetsuo-kun?”

Tetsuo blinked at the sardonic tone and looked to see Kinuko setting her bag down tiredly; as the days had passed by, she looked increasingly worn—it was as though, for her, it had all been one long, uninterrupted day, continuing unbroken from morning to night to morning again.

“Eeh? What'sat s'posedta mean?” he asked, scratching his head.

“Nothing,” Kinuko answered almost gruffly, opening her bag and shuffling through it in search of her notes for class.

Tetsuo stared a moment in perplexity. “Uh... so yeah. Anyways, Kinuko-kun, this's Rogue. Oi, Rogue, this's Kinuko—we go way back.”

“`Way back' is three years,” Kinuko commented wryly, and Rogue smirked.

“Yah, yah, details,” he answered, meaning to continue, but he was rudely interrupted by the beginning of class and the universally dreaded attention of the teacher, a mother-hen figure of a woman and a strict grammarian who lectured on the proper use of predicates and conjunctions and colloquialisms and other things which meant nothing in Tetsuo's world.

He knew he couldn't get himself in too much trouble if he and Kinuko were going to remain at the Institute, and his decision to stay for Kinuko's sake only made him that much more stubborn about it; that meant he was relegated to sitting back and watching and listening to get to know his new classmate until the end of class.

But at the end of class, she was already slipping out the door before he noticed.

“Didn't make trouble with your new girlfriend, I hope,” taunted Kinuko.

Tetsuo blinked at that, and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Eh? Girlfriend? What, I can't talk to'a chick now without tryin'a put th'moves on'er?”

“If you call those `moves,' I guess.”

“Che! I ain't Hideo-kun, ya know,” Tetsuo groused, as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out toward his bike.

“Yeah,” Kinuko answered, grinning wanly, “I know. Bet she wouldn't have walked away from Hideo-kun.”

 

* * * * *

 

“That's the trick, Tetsuo-kun. She's got to know you know she's interested, you get it?”

“Uhh.” Tetsuo had stared blankly across the Neotokyo pizza shop table at his childhood friend Hideo, and scratched his head.

“Nareally,” he had answered at length.

Even now that he was staying at the Institute, Tetsuo could remember clearly Hideo's exasperated slump of the shoulders, despite the years between him and that conversation—it had been just a short time before Tetsuo became a full member of the Hungry Wolves motorcycle gang, but a while yet before he had met Kinuko.

He remembered so clearly because every conversation with Hideo went in pretty much the same direction, making for familiar territory; and like every conversation with Hideo, that one had turned to women and his various, often sordid exploits involving them.

“Oi, doncha think it's gotta be ready yet?” Tetsuo had stalled uncomfortably, eying the pizza oven, longing silently for a tasty meal and liberation from whatever Hideo meant to instruct him on.

“Not a chance, man. When it's ready, they'll bring it, so you just sit tight and listen up. Pizza can wait—shit, even ridin' can wait—but you've gotta learn how to handle chicks, dude, or you'll be `Tetsuo-chan,' the kid of the gang, forever.” Hideo pantomimed quotes in the air, saying the name mockingly, and grinned as Tetsuo was predictably ruffled.

“Ch- shuttup, Hideo-kun!” Tetsuo glowered, reddening vaguely. “Shit, y'know I ain't a fuckin' kid!”

Hideo laughed out loud, clasping his hands casually behind his head. “It's so great the way you get pissed off, Tetsuo-kun. But you've still got to learn how to deal with chicks. ...well, I guess you don't have to, y'know, if you're—”

“Eeh— sh-shuttup!” Tetsuo stammered, glaring fiercely across the table.

“Bahahahaha! So classic!” Hideo cackled, leaning back in his seat. “So you admit you do have to learn about women, then! Admitting you've got a problem's the first step to fixing it, y'know, Tetsuo-kun.”

“Th'hell d'you know `bout admittin' y'gotta problem?” Tetsuo grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Well, I'd have to have a problem if I was gonna admit to it,” Hideo answered with a grin. “Here, I'll show you exactly what I was talking about.”

“Wha-” Tetsuo blinked, and then cringed in anticipation as the girl reached their table.

“Hey, thanks!” Hideo began as she stopped and leaned forward to set down the pizza. “Now doesn't that look tasty? Not to mention piping hot. And the pizza looks good, too.”

She blinked in surprise, first, and then reddened at Hideo's winning smile—he had always had a sort of charisma extending to both genders, and even the teachers, Tetsuo remembered; and he reasoned that his friend must have been particularly handsome, as well, judging by the way girls acted around him.

Tetsuo wasted no time stuffing his face with pizza as soon as it became even remotely cool enough. A little burn, he had decided, was a worthwhile price to pay for keeping out of the conversation his friend was striking up. He paid as little attention as he could, and managed to get by with nothing more than vague nods in response to half-heard questions, the way he had learned to avoid small talk from his father years before, when—

“Man, Tetsuo-kun, you are never gonna learn anything, at this rate. Shit.” Hideo shook his head disparagingly; the girl had already left their table, although she did glance back at them from time to time, always with a smile for Tetsuo's friend.

“Ah well,” he added, flashing a grin at the girl and pocketing a slip of paper on which Tetsuo was sure from experience that her name and phone number would be written, destined like the others for Hideo's massive black book. “At least it wasn't a total loss.”

“Yah, I know,” Tetsuo answered. “This's a kickass pizza.”

“You're hopeless, man. Hopeless.”

“Yah, whatever. `least I ain't always chasin' somebody's skirt.”

“Your loss, Tetsuo-kun. And you can't avoid women forever.”

 

* * * * *

 

There was really nothing good on.

Nothing like what he used to watch, in the old days.

The old days were when the gang was all together, and they had access to Hideo's video collection—Top Gun, Back to the Future, various James Bond movies, all things Anglophiliac.

Everything on the rack by the big TV at the institute was, ironically, made more recently than the films Tetsuo liked, and everything he'd found while channel surfing was dumb, boring, or both. He was raised on the remains of 80s America, from way back before World War III had crippled Hollywood as a culture-factory, and he wasn't sure he liked the direction it had taken, here, where the war never happened.

Tetsuo was still struggling with what kind of sense that side of the situation was supposed to make, too. Alternate realities and time travel were the kind of thing that happened in movies and in manga, not in real life. But there was no denying they were in New York, in America, and he still could not dream up a sensible explanation.

Not that he had given up on trying, of course—after all, Tetsuo was nothing if not stubborn. He was so deep in that line of thought, in fact, that he scarcely noticed the sound of the building's big front doors banging shut.

“You?” said a startled, half-familiar voice from behind the couch.

Tetsuo blinked out of his reverie and glanced back over his shoulder; then he stared. “Eeh- nani? What're you doin' here?”

“Ah was wondrin' th'same thang `bout you,” Rogue answered, hands on her hips, covered by full arm-length black gloves. The surprising shock of white in her otherwise brown hair seemed almost accusing. “Ah know Ah nevah told ya how ta get heah.”

“Yah, an' I didn't tell you, neither.” Tetsuo scratched his head and grinned endearingly. “You ain't stalkin' me, areya, `jouchan?”

Rogue scowled unimpressedly, still standing arms akimbo. “Stalkin' ya? Ugh. How'd ya get in heah?”

“Garage door,” he answered and thumbed toward it. “Butcha still ain't said whatcher doin' here.”

“Ah live heah!”

Tetsuo blinked and stared.

“Eeh? Me an' Kinuko-kun got here Saturday night, an' I know I ain't seen you `round here.”

Rogue hesitated with a fleeting look of uncertainty—and then huffed indignantly, crossing her arms.

“Ah had ta leave Satuhday mawnin' ta take care'a sumthin'.”

“Oi,” Tetsuo grinned, “I totally getcha! Shit, I've only been here like a couple'a days, an' this place's so hardassed I a'ready wanna hit th'road.”

“Ya `get me,' do ya?” she answered, glowering. “That's funny, `cause Ah don't think y'know me at awl.”

“Eeh- woa, woa, chill out, `jouchan!” Tetsuo chuckled sheepishly, holding his hands up in a gesture of placation. “Y'ain't gotta get so fired up, y'know! I'm jus' sayin'—”

“Rogue?” piped a new voice, startlingly unaccented compared with the two it interrupted—Tetsuo picked out what sounded Californian to an ear familiar with English—and they both turned to its source.

“Rogue!” laughed the slim, bright-eyed girl as she half-jogged, half-bounced the distance between them and clasped a gloved hand. “You're all right! We were so worried about you!”

“Ah really am sorry, Kitty,” she answered with an apologetic but slight smile.

“It's okay! I mean, as long as you're okay, it's okay!” The girl called Kitty paused briefly, looking uneasy, and lowered her voice warningly. “But, uhh, the Professor wants to talk to you, like . . . now. And he's totally not in Jolly Uncle Charlie mode.”

“Yah,” Rogue grimaced. “Ah guess Ah knew that was comin'.”

If she knows she's gonna get busted fer skippin' out a few days, Tetsuo wondered quietly at the conversation between the girls, why's she comin' back here?

Rogue heaved a sigh. “Well, Ah maht as well go an' see him, right? Ain't no use tryin' ta put it off.”

“Good luck, okay?” the girl answered with a slight smile.

“Eeh— oh, yah, good luck `jouchan!” Tetsuo grinned, snapping out of his reverie, and gave her a thumbs up. “If Destro givesya too much shit, just lemme know, an' I'll give'im a piece'a my mind.”

“Um,” Kitty murmured, leaning closer to Rogue and eying Tetsuo dubiously. “Who is that?”

Rogue smirked and shook her head. “That's Tetsuo. Ah'll leave you ta deal with `im.” With that, she patted the other girl's shoulder with a gloved hand and headed for Xavier's office.

“Wha- hey!” Kitty huffed, following after Rogue. “You might need moral support, y'know. And you can't just leave me with the weirdo!”

“C-che— oi!” Tetsuo called after the girls from the couch. “What'sat sposed ta mean?!”

 

* * * * *

 

“Well, well, look who's here.”

The school bell rang at the end of classes that Thursday, like on all others, and students spilled out of the building under the pressure built up during the hours of simulated obedience spent in class.

Rogue stood in the quad with her arms crossed, glaring about at the three all too familiar faces gathered around her.

“An' whut all d'you want?”

“It's been awhile,” the lanky, silver-haired Pietro, unofficial leader of the Brotherhood, continued with a casual smirk. “Hasn't it? We've gotta talk to you about those new punks hanging out with the Geek Patrol. Like just the other day, poor Toad there was trying to welcome them to our fine school, and look what he got for his trouble.”

Toad seethed quietly, shoulders hunched, with an impressive black eye made all the more outstanding by the typical pastiness of his complexion.

“Poor Toad,” Rogue echoed, much less than sincerely. She was more than well enough acquainted with the Brotherhood, and knew they would be asking for just about anything that happened to them; after all, she had been one of them—at least nominally.

“Nawt mah fawlt, though,” she continued. “Is it.”

“Hey, hey,” Pietro chuckled, holding his hands up soothingly, “who said anything about it being your fault? We all know it's just between the Brotherhood and those new arrivals; but if your `friends'”—and he pantomimed quotes in the air—”keep sticking their noses in it, they might get clipped.”

Rogue glared, hackles raised that much more by the questioning of her friendship with the other X-Men. “Ah don't think Ah know what y'ah talkin' about. Ain't y'all gawt nuthin' bettah ta do?”

“Of course,” Pietro continued, “if you don't want to cooperate, I'm sure we could work something out on our own; like exchanging you for the punks. You think your new `friends' would even deliver, though?”

Rogue became very aware that three were enough to surround her, especially with the monumental Fred Dukes among them, and that she was by no means the ultimate combatant. Between Toad, Pietro, and Fred—the latter two Brotherhood members known appropriately also as Quicksilver and The Blob—she was outmatched respectively in maneuverability, speed, and brute strength. If she could exercise her ability to borrow their powers, she might have a chance, but making skin contact with a wary aggressor would take some luck.

Luck happened by just as the Brotherhood began to advance on her, and it arrived with a squeal of tires as the back end of a motorcycle swung into a surprised Toad and Pietro, sending them tumbling away.

“Oi!” Tetsuo grinned, obviously enjoying himself, “jump on, `jouchan!”

“What—” Rogue began to object, but changed her mind when she had to duck away from Fred's grasp.

“Hold on!” Tetsuo called back over his shoulder as she scrambled onto the bike, and she had to grab hold of his jacket with both hands to stay on when he opened the throttle.

“Wheah'd you drop in from?!” Rogue shouted over the growing noise of the wind and engine.

“Eeh?! I was just in th'area!” he laughed in response, and adjusted his right rearview mirror to grin back at her winningly. “Y'looked like y'needed a lift!”

“Yah, well,” she answered warily. “I—”

“Going someplace special?” interrupted Pietro, smirking as he ran alongside the bike with his legs in an indistinct blur of motion.

“Ee- n-nande?!” yelped Tetsuo, swerving and picking up speed, but Pietro easily kept his place alongside them.

“The Boys and I need to have some words with you, punk.”

“Che!” Tetsuo growled. “Here's yer fuckin' words: kiss my fuckin' ass, Mrs. Dash!”

“You don't seem to get it, punk—” Pietro answered irately “—but you're about to!”

Tetsuo cursed and swerved again as Pietro made a grab for the motorcycle's handlebar. “Keep yer fuckin' hands off, Speedfreak!”

Rogue opened her eyes again, just realizing she had closed them when Tetsuo's wild maneuvers started; but she kept her tight grip on his bombardier jacket, not wanting an abrupt meeting with the pavement.

This kid's out of his damn mind! she thought, wide-eyed. I'd almost be better off with the Brother—

“Ow!” she winced, looking down as something banged against her leg in mid-swerve. It was a length of metal pipe.

A light went on in her head.

“That the best you can do, punk?!” laughed Pietro mockingly, legs pumping almost too fast to see. “Why don't you just- gwaugh!”

Tetsuo glanced sideways in time to see Rogue holding the steel pipe he kept in case of a fight, and thrusting it between Peitro's legs like a tough stick jammed between the spokes of a bicycle; also like a bicycle, Pietro went tumbling end-over-end into a hedge.

“Shit,” Tetsuo laughed, turning onto a side road—gently, in consideration of Rogue's one-handed grip while she was putting the pipe away. “Yer a dangerous chick ta piss off, aincha Belle!”

“An' you need yuh mouth washed out with soap,” she answered.

“Hahah! So while we're on th'road, y'wanna get summin'a eat? Since, y'know, I did save ya, back there!”

He grinned at her in the rearview, and she scoffed, “an Ah just saved you, so we'ah equal!”

“E-eeh?! Che. Yah, ahright—so I'll pay!”

Rogue sighed and rolled her eyes. Getting to sit back and relax for a moment did sound like a good idea. “Awright, awright...”

“Great! Hang on tight, `jouchan!”

Tetsuo flashed his perennial grin again and opened the throttle, giving her just long enough to clutch his jacket before powersliding into a swerve, banked deeply as he dashed out onto a main rode. Rogue winced as they cut across traffic in front of a truck—which blared at them angrily—and sped off down the street at well over the speed limit.

“H-hey!” she hollered, halfway between a shriek and a growl, “you tryin' ta get us killed?!”

“Oi, relax! Doncha trust me yet, `jouchan?!”

“Ah'll trust ya when Ah'm standin' on solid ground!”

It was only a few minutes later when the bike screeched to a halt, powersliding neatly into a parking space in front of a small, quiet pizza shop. Rogue let out a breath when she realized she had been holding it. She lost no time releasing Tetsuo's jacket, and jumping off the bike.

“Y'ah crazy, ya know that?”

“Eeh? Aww, c'mon, `jouchan!” Tetsuo laughed as he shut down the motorcycle and swung off it. “We weren't goin' that fast. I'll showya some real drivin' on th'way back, aright?”

Rogue crossed her arms, eying him briefly before heading inside. “Thanks, sugah, but that was awl tha drahvin' Ah need ta see.”

Tetsuo blinked and grinned dumbly, scratching at the back of his head as “sugah” echoed through his brain.

Rogue waited for him, holding the door.

“You comin' in?”

“Eeh- che, yah!” he laughed, jogging over. “Yah, hold up `jouchan!”

“What's that jo-chan'a yah's mean, anyways?” she asked, watching Tetsuo suspiciously as he stepped inside.

“Huh? Oh, uhh... `sa real casual kinna way'a talkin' to a chick. `s like `babe' or sumthin'. Oi, so whatcha wanna get, Belle?”

Babe, huh? Rogue thought, and shook her head. “Ahdunno. Ain't that often Ah come heah.”

“How's burger an' black olives sound? `s what I'm gettin'.”

“Awright, Ah suppose.”

“Go on an' siddown, I'll be withya inna sec,” Tetsuo beamed, and with a gesture toward the refrigerator full of beverages, he added, “an' grab yerself a drink or sumthin'.”

“Ah'm all set, thanks,” Rogue answered, and found a corner seat from which to contemplate her new fellow X-Man—at least he was in theory. She hadn't seen or heard about him being sent to the Danger Room yet for practice, or being involved in much else in terms of special X-Men activities. She hadn't seen or heard any hint of what his powers might be, and the same was that much more applicable to his strange, moody friend.

Really, they were both strange, and not quite like anyone Rogue had known. Kinuko seemed borderline clinically paranoid, and if Tetsuo's driving was a fair measure of his sanity, he was that much further over the deep end; but at the same time, Tetsuo did seem like a genuinely nice kid, and Rogue guessed he wouldn't be quite so close with Kinuko unless she was, too.

Of course, she knew she had not always been a great judge of character, and winced at the thought of it.

“Hey, y'aright?” Tetsuo asked, and Rogue glanced up to see him standing with the pizza.

“Yah,” she answered, half-smiling. “Ah'm fahn. Just thinkin'.”

“Y'sure?” he blinked, setting the pizza down. “Y'don't want nuthin'a drink?”

“Really, Ah'm fahn.”

“Well, if y'say so,” he answered, and sat across from her, wasting no time choosing himself a slice.

Rogue sat a moment in silence before she spoke up again.

“So ain't ya supposed ta weah a helmet?”

“Muh?” Tetsuo answered around half a mouthful. “Mph. Oh, yah. Shades was buggin' me `bout that.”

“Shades?”

“Yah, y'know. Scooter.”

Rogue blinked and suppressed a smile as she took a slice of her own. “Y'mean Scott?”

“Yah, same thing. So like I was sayin', he was givin' me a hard time, but I think he understands, now: brainbuckets're fer newbies who can't keep their heads off th'pavement. Y'only wear'em if yer goin' ta war, an' there ain't nobody that hardcore `round here.”

Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Goin' ta war?”

“Yah. Y'know, like a turf war `tween gangs. We mostly kept ta ourselves, but y'gotta be tough if somebody starts shit. Y'know, sleepin' giant, an' all that shit.”

“Yah lost me ahready. `We?'”

“What, ain't nobody toldja, `jouchan?” Tetsuo grinned proudly. “Me an' Kinuko, we were in the Hungry Wolves gang, back home in Neotokyo. An' I was just sayin', y'gotta scare all th'other gangs enough so they don't wanna pissya off, but not too much, or they'll team up ta clean ya out. They say some gang called th'Clowns went down by pushin' too far like that, back before it all blew up again.”

“Blew up?” Rogue echoed, eying Tetsuo and beginning to wonder how much of his story she was ready to believe. “Again?”

“Charlie really ain't told you guys a lot, huh? Yah, back in 2019, they say some ter'rsits gotta leftover nuke from th'War an' blew up old Neotokyo. Didn't get locked up `till `21.”

“But what do yah mean again? Theah was only two cities hit with nukes in World War II, Ah thought.”

“Yah, I know, but I'm talkin'bout World War III—'though I guess you guys dunno'bout that, or sumthin'. That was way back in, uh, `88, I think. 1988. Like July, I think. Anyways, Tokyo got blown ta shit, an' America thought Russia did it, so America bombed th'shit outta Russia, so Russia blasted th'shit outta America. So after all that was done, they came with the UN ta take over Tokyo, an' th'military was still fuckin'round in 2019. That's s'posedta be what those ter'rists were pickin' a fight about.”

“Mah gawd, Tetsuo,” she murmured. “Ya sound like y'all stepped out'a Mad Max.”

“Eeh? Oh, yah, I guesso,” he chuckled. “An' that's a pretty good flick, too.”

Rogue shook her head. “Ah jus' don't undahstand how ya can be so laid back about it.”

“Laid back? Idunno. Guess it's just what I'm usedta seein'. `sides, y'can't get all caught up in worryin', y'know?”

“Yah,” she smirked sarcastically, “Ah'd noticed ya don't worry too much when yuh drahvin', neithah.”

“Ee- hahah!” Tetsuo laughed, scratching at the back of his head. “Hey, what can I say, huh? Guess I'm just used ta that, too.”

“Used to it? Y'ain't that old, Tetsuo. When'd ya staht learnin'?”

“Uhh— like four, more like six years'go, I think.”

“Say whut? Fahv yeahs ago, you would'a been what, ten?”

“Hah! Yeah, surprised th'shit outta Hideo-kun an' Eiji-kun how fast I picked it up. Same fer Kinuko-kun.” He beamed at her proudly. “Guess we're both naturals.”

Rogue shook her head. “Ah'm sure Logan's been rahdin' longer, an' Ah don't think even he drahves as crazy as you.”

Tetsuo grinned sheepishly. “Oi, y'ain't gotta go sweet-talkin' me like this, but thanks.”

“Ah ain't sweet-talkin' nobody, sugah,” Rogue scowled, arms crossed, “Ah'm tellin' you ya drahve like a psychopath! An' ya don't know bettah than ta pick fights with th'Brothahood, neithah. Ain't you nevah been scared before?”

Tetsuo leaned back in his side of the booth and smirked, looking off to the side. “Che! Idunno whatcher talkin'about, `jouchan.”

Rogue leaned forward, elbows on the table, and smirked back. “Come on, a tough guy like you ain't afraid ta tell little me, raht? What's tha scariest thing that evah happened ta you?”

The change in Tetsuo was so profound and unexpected that only afterwards did Rogue realize his smirk and reclining posture had been the first sign of it. After she had pressed him, he became downright sullen, compared with his usual demeanor. For a long moment, the reaction stunned her, as well. She thought of documentaries and movies, and the way war veterans acted when stricken suddenly by the memory the things they had seen.

“Um,” she finally started, to break the silence. “Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't mean—”

“Kuso. Don't worry'bout it,” Tetsuo responded as she started to trail off. “I just don't think'bout it much. Livin' in th'street an' with all th'other gangs ta watch out for, y'don't go holdin' hands an' suckin' yer thumb an' sayin' yer scared a whole lot.”

He had returned to his casual smirk and reestablished his air of arrogant self-possession, but Rogue could not quite forget the way he had looked, just for a moment, like he had been hit with a wrecking ball. He had, just for a moment, looked like an abandoned child: vulnerable.

“Anyways,” he continued, finishing his last slice of pizza, “you wanna start headin' back, `jouchan? `less ya wanna go onna joy ride, a'course! You ain't been ridin' `till you been ridin' with the cops tryin'a keep up!”

Tetsuo grinned that infectious grin, which Rogue resisted, crossing her arms.

“Ain't Ah already told ya Ah ain't lookin' forwahd ta gettin' killed, sugah? Well Ah ain't lookin' ta get arrested, eithah, awright?”

“Hahah! Well, aright,” he answered as they stood and headed back out to the motorcycle, “but yer missin' out.”

Tetsuo jumped onto the bike and started it up. When Rogue had not yet joined him, he glanced back over his shoulder to where she was still standing beside him, looking pensive.

“Oi, what's chafin' you, `jouchan? Y'wanted'a head back, right?”

Rogue sighed and glanced back at the pizza shop. There was no one else in the lot, and street traffic was modest. She sat sidesaddle behind Tetsuo, who paused in confusion.

“Th'first tahm mah powahs showed up,” she started in a low voice, just audible over the bike's engine, “Ah was at the school dance. Ah was dancin' with mah boyfriend Cody— an' he kissed me— an' all'a sudden, Ah wasn't just kissin' him, Ah was him. Ah knew ev'ry thought in his head, ev'rythin'; but not lahk Ah was in his head, but he was in mahn.”

Tetsuo blinked and looked back over his shoulder, listening, as she continued quietly.

“Next thing Ah knew, he was lyin' on th'floor with'is eyes awl blank, twitchin' an' gaspin' like'a epileptic. Ah was scared then, but when it happened a couple more tahms an' Ah stahted ta undahstand Ah was doin' it—that was tha worst.”

“Oi,” Tetsuo answered, scratching his head sheepishly. “So, uh— is'at— is'at whatcha do, then?”

“Ah touch anybody, Ah'll get their powahs an' memories, an' they'll get knocked out at best.”

“Cheee— that's pretty fuckin' rough, `jouchan. `though, uhh, I gotta say I ain't quite sure what madeja wanna tell me `bout it.”

“Ah guess Ah wanted ta make up for what Ah asked ya before, `bout bein' scared. You ain't got ta covah up yah past heah, Tetsuo. That's a big paht of what tha Institute's awl about.”

“Ch-” Tetsuo scoffed, facing forward again. “Idunno whatcher talkin'bout, `jouchan! I ain't got nothin'a cover up, so ya really ain't gotta worry'bout it. Aright?”

“Tetsuo, Ah saw—” I saw that look on your face, she meant to say, but she trailed off, hesitant.

Tetsuo revved the engine. It sounded distinctly like the closing of a conversation.

“Oi, y'wanna hold on tight, `jouchan!”

He sure can be a stubborn brat, Rogue thought to herself with a scowl, but reluctantly grabbed onto his jacket again. She did still need a way back to the Institute, and it was better than walking or waiting for another ride. That'll teach me to worry over you.

The bike was moving as soon as she had a grip, and they swung out to merge into traffic with reckless grace. Rogue hovered between discomfort, irritation, and exhilaration as they picked up speed and ducked around sluggish cars which only barely exceeded the speed limit. It was hard to decide whether she wanted to smack Tetsuo, shake some sense into him, or laugh out loud; she had to admit, at least, that it really was exciting.

The bike might not have been able to compare with the Blackbird for speed, but being open to the wind and cutting so close to traffic, it almost felt like it could. She might even have grinned at the feeling of the wind rushing through her hair, if not for the nagging expectation of an abrupt, messy end.

Tetsuo had no such concerns.

He knew what he was doing, and he knew without a doubt that he was in control of his bike. Six years, he had been riding, and only Hideo surpassed him with skill—but even so, Tetsuo rivaled his teacher with a blend of agility, instinct, and luck to put any expert to the test. Clearly, there was nothing to worry about under any kind of normal circumstances.

Halfway back to the Institute, circumstances became anything but normal.

Tetsuo had just passed a car at more than double the speed limit when everything suddenly changed: he was riding the more familiar Highway 26 which came to a dead end at the edge of the crater which had once been the Old City. It was the dead of night, and the abandoned highway was pitch dark except for his bike's headlight.

Before he even realized the change of scenery, Tetsuo spotted someone standing in the middle of the road in strange pants and a jacket like a snowsuit—he had the stature of a little kid, with the wrinkled face and white hair of an old man, and a complexion so pale it was almost blue. The hand he raised to shield his eyes from Tetsuo's headlight was stamped on the palm with the number 26.

“Kuso!” Tetsuo yelped as he swerved sideways to shed speed and try to dodge around the bizarre pedestrian.

“Tetsuo!” cried a voice as everything became featureless white.

Only when he found himself off the edge of the wrong side of the road in New York did Tetsuo realize the voice he heard had come from Rogue, who was clutching him almost hard enough to hurt. In the same moment, shaking and gasping for breath, she let go and quickly staggered away from him.

“Wh- whut tha hell do ya think y'ah doin'?!”

“N-nan de ga—” he stammered, clutching the handlebars.

“Ya really almost did get us killed! Ah you outta yuh mahnd?!”

Tetsuo glanced at her tensely and bit back an acerbic reply.

“K— kuso. Guess you didn't see nuthin', then, huh.”

“Damn raht Ah did,” Rogue glared back, eyes wide with panic and one arm pointing down the road where the enraged New York horns were quieting down. “Ah saw that pickup truck ya neahly ran us undah!”

“I don't mean that, I mean th'fuckin' kid in the th'fuckin' road.”

Rogue stared at him, taken aback. She started to look less angry and terrified than concerned. “A kid in tha road? Theah ain't nobody heah but us an' the traffic, Tetsuo.”

Tetsuo looked around, quietly seething.

“Yah. Yah, it looks that way.”

Rogue paused, watching him in a momentary silence as she caught her breath and regained some composure.

“Look,” she started quietly, “Ah'm sorry Ah snapped at ya, Tetsuo—ya just scared tha almighty outta me, theah.”

“Che, whatever,” Tetsuo answered, still looking straight ahead. “I ain't a little kid, an' I guess you gotta right ta be pissed off. An' ya prolly think I'm outta my fuckin' head, or trippin' out on somethin'.” Rogue started to shake her head, but there was not enough of a pause for her to object out loud.

“But I don't like th'feelin' that there's somebody fuckin' with my head,” he continued, “or makin' me see shit that ain't there.”

“Ya think it was telepathy?” Rogue murmured. “Ah don't think Ah know anyone but Jean an' tha Professah who can do anythin' lahk that, Tetsuo.”

“Che. Whatever.”

Rogue slowly stepped next to Tetsuo, and touched his shoulder. “Nahce save, though,” she said.

Tetsuo glanced toward her and smirked halfheartedly.

“Yah. Thanks, `jouchan. You still trust me, or y'wanna take a cab?”

“Ah guess that depends on you an' all that experience you wuh talkin' about. Ya think you can still ride?”

Tetsuo finally let go of the handle bar and scratched at the back of his head with something close to his characteristic grin.

“Hey, I can always ride!”

Rogue climbed onto the bike once again, trying not to show her hesitation, and they were on the road again soon after—at something much nearer the speed limit.

Neither of them noticed a dark patch on the road, several feet wide, charred near to black.

It was identical to a charred patch left 18 years earlier on Neotokyo Highway 26, over the Old City.