E.Y.E.S: FRACTURED DESTINY
Arc 1 — Sync of Destiny
THE MORNING MENACE
It was barely morning.
The air was still chilly, and the sun had only just begun peeking out from behind the buildings. The streets were quiet, almost deserted.
But one particular figure was impossible to miss.
A girl walked down the street with absolute confidence, her hair tied into a high ponytail, a cropped hoodie tied around her waist, a crossbody bag snug against her body, and a pair of pastel-colored sneakers bright enough to grab anyone's attention.
Meet SRADA.
A girl born with a factory-installed friendly smile. She'd been smiling at people since she was practically a fetus, which probably explained why her life had always been so peaceful.
But...
As she made her way toward Krish and Krishna's house, a group of guys hanging out by the roadside suddenly switched into predator mode.
"Hey, gorgeous! Where you headed this early in the morning, looking all pretty like that?" one of them called out, flashing a smug grin.
"Are you blind?" Srada shot back.
The guy wasn't discouraged. If anything, he got even more obnoxious.
"I thought you were heading to a wedding or something. Or maybe you're meeting your boyfriend~" he teased, grinning like an idiot.
Srada stopped walking.
Her smile grew sweeter.
She tilted her head slightly.
"Hey, you guys... come here for a sec. Wanna kiss me?"
Her voice was as soft as cotton, her gaze dripping with the kind of seductive charm usually reserved for middle-aged women fighting over discount coupons.
The guys froze.
Their brains collectively displayed ERROR 404: COMMON SENSE NOT FOUND.
"W-WHAT?! A KISS?!"
They wiped the drool from their mouths with their hands, puckering their lips and leaning forward like a bunch of starving goldfish.
"Y-You're serious, right, babe?" one of them asked, stepping closer with hope written all over his face.
Srada nodded.
"Absolutely. My lips are premium quality today, so go ahead and close your eyes, big guy."
The dude immediately shut his eyes, grinning from ear to ear as he prepared to experience heaven on Earth.
And then...
...
...
...
A KNUCKLE SANDWICH SLAMMED INTO HIS FACE.
BAM!
METEOR PUNCH! The first guy went flying into the sky, probably looking for Wi-Fi on the moon.
BOOM!
THE MOST BRUTAL UPPERCUT IN HUMAN HISTORY! The second guy's chest collided with a tree.
SMACK!
LIGHTNING-FAST BACKHAND! The third guy spun around the planet Saturn, somehow finding time to take a selfie before falling back into the loving embrace of his own terrible decisions.
The remaining guys immediately ran for their lives, crying and regretting every decision that had led them to being born.
Srada clapped for herself, then glanced at the camera.
That meant you, dear readers. Her beloved E.Y.E.S buddies.
"Now THAT'S what I call a morning workout. Exercise is important for your health, you know."
She flashed a mischievous grin.
"Hm? Wanna give it a try, too?"
She leaned toward the camera, her voice dropping into a seductive whisper.
"Or would you rather get a real kiss? Hehehe~"
STAB.
With that, Srada casually resumed her walk toward Krish and Krishna's house.
THE SKETCH THAT COULD END CIVILIZATION
Srada continued on her way, but for some reason, she had a feeling she absolutely HAD to go there today.
Not because of anything special.
Just because HER SCHOOL NOTEBOOK WAS STILL WITH KRISHNA.
ALL THE IMPORTANT CLASS NOTES WERE IN THERE.
Normally, she'd already be at school by now. Or, at the very least, she'd hitch a ride with Krish if they were heading in the same direction.
Not because she disliked riding with him or anything.
Absolutely not.
It was just that...
KRISH'S MOTORCYCLE WAS A DAMN RELIC FROM THE HOMO SAPIENS ERA.
Anyway, as she walked...
Her brain suddenly started buffering.
Then she remembered.
"WAIT... WAIT A DAMN MINUTE..."
Srada stopped in her tracks, her breathing growing heavier.
"THAT NOTEBOOK..."
She immediately grabbed her head.
Her face looked like someone who'd just realized they'd accidentally sent a stupid meme to the family group chat.
Because she'd drawn Krish.
A SCARECROW VERSION OF KRISH.
A HUGE HEAD THE SIZE OF A PLANET.
CROSSED EYES.
ARMS BENT LIKE ELECTROCUTED WORMS.
LEGS SHAPED LIKE POPSICLE STICKS.
And the worst part?
Right underneath the masterpiece, she'd written in enormous letters:
SRADA LOVE KRISH. AWWW, SO SWEET! SO CUUUUTE!
"I'M DEAD. I'M DEAD. I'M SO FUCKING DEAD!!!"
Srada collapsed onto the ground.
"OH, GOD, PLEASE ERASE THIS MEMORY FROM THE ENTIRE PLANET!"
Her brain immediately began simulating the worst-case scenario in human history.
WHAT IF KRISHNA HAD ALREADY FOUND THE DRAWING?
HE'D LAUGH UNTIL HE BECAME FUCKING POSSESSED.
HE'D HOLD A PRESS CONFERENCE.
In Srada's imagination, Krishna appeared on national television wearing a suit, standing before thousands of people.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, ALLOW ME TO PRESENT THE MOST INSANE MASTERPIECE IN HUMAN HISTORY!"
A gigantic screen lit up.
And then...
THE SCARECROW DRAWING OF KRISH APPEARED.
THE STOCK MARKET CRASHED.
PROFESSORS OF FINE ARTS IMMEDIATELY CONVERTED TO ANOTHER RELIGION.
NASA GOT INVOLVED.
Srada shot to her feet at superhuman speed.
"I HAVE TO SAVE THAT NOTEBOOK!!!"
She didn't care what it took.
If necessary, she'd smash straight through the walls of Krish's house with her own head.
This was no longer about dignity.
THIS WAS A MATTER OF SURVIVAL.
Srada took off running.
No, this wasn't ordinary running.
Her legs moved like a broken sewing machine.
Chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk!
She finally reached Krish's house.
Her eyes bulged.
"THERE IT IS..."
Her target stood before her.
The gate to Krish and Krishna's house loomed like the defensive walls of an ancient kingdom.
Srada took a deep breath.
"Bismillah."
Then she JUMPED.
But this wasn't a normal human jump.
This was a JUMP STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORSE-SPIRIT POSSESSION.
Her legs spread wide, her mouth moving as she screamed incomprehensible nonsense.
"UWEKKK! UWEKKK! HUAAARGHHH!!!"
BOINK!
Her feet bounced off the wall.
She performed a full 360-degree flip, striking a Kung Fu Panda pose in midair.
Her sneakers kicked up a cloud of dust.
FWOOOOOSH!
Srada landed on top of the gate on one foot, balancing like a flamingo while gripping an imaginary machete.
She didn't waste a second.
She bent her knees, preparing for another leap.
"CHARGE WITHOUT FEAR! RAID WITHOUT PAYING A DIME!!!"
CRASH!
She launched herself again, performing god-tier parkour.
She leaped onto the wall, slid down the other side, and finally...
Landed gracefully in front of Krish's front door.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
She took a slow breath.
"Okay... calm down... calm down... You're Srada. A sweet, gentle girl. You're not a fucking bull..."
She nodded to herself, looking perfectly at peace.
Her hand slowly rose.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A polite little knock.
"Assalamu alaikum..."
Her voice was soft. Gentle.
Inside, Krish was still half-asleep.
He rubbed his eyes, his hair looking like a bird's nest while a trail of drool clung to his cheek.
He dragged himself toward the door and opened it.
The morning light made him squint.
And then...
"Huh? Srada?"
Krish blinked twice before fully recognizing her.
"Srada? What're you doing here?"
Srada smiled.
Calm. Composed. Perfectly normal.
"Hmm... I, um... came to get my notebook. The one Krishna borrowed."
The word I coming out of Srada's mouth was practically a natural phenomenon.
Krish felt like the Earth had shifted half a degree off its axis.
He glanced at his slightly rusted wristwatch and grinned.
"Oh, perfect timing. I'll give you a ride. I'm heading out anyway. Mrs. Markonah asked me to fix her fan. Apparently, it keeps spinning but doesn't actually blow any air."
Hearing that, Srada got a little flustered.
"O-Okay..."
She stepped inside, moving so slowly that if there'd been background music, it would've been lo-fi hip-hop beats to relax and study to.
But inside her head...
YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!! HAS HE SEEN THE DRAWING YET?!
Outside, Srada was all smiles.
Inside, she was experiencing a complete mental breakdown.
Okay, calm down, Ra... calm down... Maybe that brat hasn't noticed it... Maybe he hasn't even opened the notebook... Maybe...
Her imagination immediately betrayed her.
In her head, Krishna was rolling around on his bed, laughing his ass off while holding her notebook.
"HAAHAHAHAHAHA! BRO, KRISH LOOKS LIKE A FUCKING BRUSH MADE OF COCONUT FIBERS!!! WHAT IS THIS?! 'SRADA LOVE KRISH'?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—"
Back to reality.
Srada was still smiling.
But her eyes were twitching.
Krish straightened the sandals near the front door and glanced at Srada, who was sitting perfectly still in the living room, hands resting on her thighs.
"Wait here for a sec, okay?"
Srada nodded gently.
"Hmm... okay..."
Her smile remained calm.
But in her heart?
OH, GOD, PLEASE DON'T LET MY EMBARRASSING SECRET GET OUT! AMEN!!!
Krish walked slowly toward Krishna's bedroom.
The ticking wall clock sounded like the timer on a bomb.
Tick... tick... tick...
Finally, he reached Krishna's door.
Creeeeak...
The door made an obnoxiously loud noise.
Krish immediately hissed.
"Shhhh..."
And sure enough.
Inside the bedroom, Krishna was fast asleep.
Face-down.
His shirt had ridden up a little.
Drool dripped onto his pillow, forming a map of Sumatra.
His breathing was heavy, occasionally interrupted by a series of ungodly snoring noises.
"Hrrrrkkkh... fhhrrrkkkk..."
Krish smirked.
He began sneaking toward the bed.
One step...
Another step...
Then his foot landed on a LEGO brick.
"AAAGHHH!"
He jumped, desperately suppressing a scream.
"WHAT THE HELL?! THIS GUY'S STILL PLAYING WITH LEGO AT HIS AGE?!"
Krish stood beside the bed, arms crossed, staring at his little brother, who remained peacefully asleep, drooling and snoring with his mouth wide open.
"Oi. Wake up."
No response.
Krish pulled Krishna's pillow.
"WAKE THE HELL UP!"
Krishna simply rolled onto his side and continued drooling.
Now the map had expanded to include Java.
Krish was beginning to lose his patience.
He grabbed Krishna's leg and shook him like he was trying to mix a five-gallon water jug.
"KRISHNA. WHERE. IS. SRADA'S. NOTEBOOK?"
Krishna remained completely unbothered.
Then, with an incredibly slow and smooth motion, he rotated his body 180 degrees without even opening his eyes.
Krish decided it was time to escalate.
He lifted one of Krishna's legs and ROLLED HIS ENTIRE BODY OVER LIKE HE WAS GRINDING SPICES IN A MORTAR.
THUD!
Krishna fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a fairly painful-sounding WHUMP.
His pillow fell with him, and somehow his face still managed to land directly on it.
Krishna remained...
Eyes closed.
Fast asleep.
The only difference was that he was now lying face-down on the floor with his butt sticking straight up.
Krish stared at him.
"WHAT THE HELL? ARE THIS KID'S BONES MADE OF RUBBER OR SOMETHING?!"
He crouched down and shook Krishna's shoulders more aggressively.
"OI! KRISHNA! WAKE UP! SRADA'S NOTEBOOK! WHERE IS IT?!"
And in the middle of all this domestic violence...
Krishna smiled.
A huge, peaceful smile.
The kind of smile you'd expect from someone who'd just met God.
"Hehehe... Srada..." he mumbled in his sleep, his lips puckering as he searched for something in the air, moving toward the floor, toward the pillow, and even toward Krish's own leg.
SMOOCH.
Krishna kissed Krish's calf.
Krish lost his goddamn mind.
"WHAAAAAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
He jumped backward, frantically wiping his calf as though it had just been contaminated by nuclear-grade saliva.
Krishna, still on the floor, still asleep, still grinning, mumbled softly.
"Srada... don't be mad at me anymore... I'll buy you more Momogi snacks..."
Krish stood frozen, caught somewhere between disgust, disbelief, and the urge to burst out laughing.
"...Jesus Christ. Is this kid having a wet dream or something? He's kissing people's legs now?"
He gave up trying to get an answer out of Krishna and decided to search for the notebook himself.
His eyes scanned the study desk.
Books were scattered everywhere. Papers stuck out from underneath random objects. Pens lay beside a PlayStation controller like they'd all been thrown into a war zone.
Krish rummaged through the pile.
His right hand lifted books while his left hand tried to keep him from losing his mind.
"Where the hell is it..."
Until finally...
FOUND IT!
Srada's notebook.
Its cover was covered in highlighter scribbles, with a giant warning written across it:
DO NOT OPEN! 100% PRIVATE!
Krish stared.
"Private, huh? Now I REALLY wanna open it."
But then he remembered Srada was waiting outside.
He hurried out of the bedroom, leaving Krishna peacefully face-down on the floor.
BREAKFAST, DENIAL, AND OTHER NATURAL DISASTERS
The moment Krish entered the living room, Srada immediately jumped to her feet.
Her eyes darted toward his hands.
"My notebook?"
Krish casually handed it over.
"Safe and sound. Still in one piece. Just like Krishna's feelings for you."
Srada forced a stiff grin, her hands trembling.
"W-What?"
Krish simply grinned again before sitting on the sofa.
Then he smirked at her.
"Hey, Ra... are you here to pick up your notebook, or are you just looking for an excuse to come see me?"
TIME STOPPED.
Srada maintained a faint smile while her inner monologue completely lost its mind.
YOU SON OF A BITCH! HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW?!
Finally, she managed to respond.
"Hmm... don't flatter yourself, dumbass."
That was it.
Flat. Casual. Unbothered.
But inside her head?
BULLSHIT! OF COURSE I MISSED YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT!
She coughed awkwardly, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Krish grinned.
"Anyway, let's grab breakfast."
Srada nodded, still sitting there like a garden statue.
A few minutes later...
Krish was eating plain toast while occasionally glancing at Srada.
Srada was eating, too.
Sitting elegantly. Taking small, delicate bites.
Every now and then...
She'd sip her tea.
Every now and then...
She'd sneak a glance at Krish.
Every now and then...
WHAT IF HE FINDS OUT I DREW HIM?! EVEN IF HE DOES LOOK LIKE A FUCKING SCARECROW! IF HE FINDS OUT, I'M HANGING MYSELF WITH A PHONE CHARGER!!!
Krish finished chewing and stood up.
"I'm gonna wash my face real quick, okay?"
He smiled pleasantly, as though he didn't have a single care in the world.
Srada stared at him.
Because apparently, Krish had just finished eating and was only NOW going to wash his face.
The absolute audacity.
Krish casually walked toward the bathroom.
The water turned on.
The door closed.
Silence.
Srada sat alone at the dining table.
The morning breeze drifted through the window, bringing a refreshing chill.
But inside Srada's head?
HOLY SHIT, I THINK MY LIFE IS DOWN TO ITS LAST MILLIMETER OF UTILITY-BLADE STEEL!
She fiddled with her spoon.
Clink. Clink.
Suddenly...
CRASHHHH!
Something clattered across the roof.
Srada instinctively looked up.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
And then...
Uncle Takashima appeared through the window.
Half his body was outside, the other half was busy steadying himself on the roof while he held a hammer.
"Oh! Didn't realize Srada was here!"
His voice was loud enough to wake the dead.
"WELL, WELL! WHAT A SURPRISE! UP EARLY, LITTLE MISS RORO!"
He grinned, showing two teeth still hanging on for dear life while another had apparently been kidnapped by time itself.
Srada automatically forced a stiff smile.
"Uh... yeah, Uncle. Just stopping by for a bit."
Inside her head:
HE'S CALLING ME RORO AGAIN?! WHAT AM I, NYI RORO KIDUL?!
Takashima continued hammering away at the roof with impressive speed.
"Oh, I see! Have you had breakfast yet?"
He glanced down at her from above.
Srada slowly looked toward the table.
An empty plate.
Almost-empty tea.
She smiled while trying to conceal her panic.
"Y-Yeah, Uncle! Already ate!"
Takashima grinned.
"Good, good! Oh, and tell Krish not to floor my motorcycle again! Yesterday, the front wheel almost lifted off the ground. I thought the damn thing was about to fly to the moon!"
Srada could only nod as Takashima disappeared behind the roof again.
She rubbed her chest.
"OH, MY GOD. IS THERE NOT A SINGLE NORMAL PERSON IN THIS HOUSE?!"
A few minutes passed.
Srada was still sitting alone in the living room, stirring tea that had long since gone cold.
Calm down... everything's gonna be fine... The notebook is safe... Nobody knows... My brain is still functioning normally...
Then she heard footsteps.
Step...
Step...
Step...
Srada reflexively raised her head.
And there he was.
Krish emerged from the hallway.
Slowly.
In slow motion.
Like some ridiculously handsome guy appearing in a Korean boy band's music video.
His hair was still slightly damp, styled in a slicked-back look with a bit of natural messiness around the sides.
A plain black T-shirt fit his frame perfectly, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There was a little smear of black grease near one cuff, which somehow made him look even cooler.
His beloved denim jacket hung loosely over his shoulders, one side slipping down just enough to give off that unmistakable:
I don't even try, and I'm still hot.
A crossbody tool bag hung from one shoulder, with screwdrivers, pliers, and a coil of wire poking out through the half-open zipper.
One hand rested in his pocket.
His gaze was sharp.
His stride was casual.
EVERY GIRL IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WAS ABOUT TO DREAM ABOUT THIS GUY TONIGHT.
Srada went silent.
Her mouth almost fell open, but she quickly smacked her own dignity back into place.
Her cheeks grew warm.
Not just pink.
METALLIC MAROON RED.
HOLY SHIT. HE'S RIDICULOUSLY HOT.
THIS ISN'T THE SAME KRISH WHO USUALLY HANGS OUT WITH THAT ANCIENT MOTORCYCLE!
WHO... WHO THE HELL IS THIS GUY?!
But...
Something was wrong.
Something felt...
Off.
Srada glanced downward.
She'd meant to check his shoes.
And then...
SHE FROZE.
Krish, the ridiculously handsome guy who'd just walked out like the lead actor in a romantic drama...
...
...
...
WAS STILL WEARING HIS BOXERS.
NO PANTS.
WHATSOEVER.
Pink boxers with polka dots fluttered gently in the breeze from the electric fan.
Krish strolled over like nothing was wrong.
He glanced at Srada and smiled faintly.
"You ready? Let's get going so you won't be late."
Srada remained frozen.
Her eyes drifted downward again.
Boxers.
Polka dots.
The dots practically glowed like UV lights in a nightclub.
Inside her head:
I AM NOT READY FOR THIS SHIT!!!
HOW THE HELL CAN HE LOOK THIS GOOD WHILE HIS LOWER HALF IS STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS?!
Srada had turned into a human salt statue.
Her cheeks grew redder.
Her neck, too.
Her ears?
ABOUT TO EXPLODE.
Krish glanced at her again.
"Ra, come on. Why are you zoning out? I've been waiting."
He lifted his crossbody bag and wiped some remaining water from his neck with the edge of his jacket.
Somehow, that made everything worse.
Srada nearly got a nosebleed.
But her pride REFUSED TO SURRENDER.
She quickly lowered her head and adjusted her bag strap.
"U-Um... are you... are you sure you're ready?"
Her voice came out dry.
Krish nodded casually.
"Of course. I look good like this, don't I?"
He flashed a killer smile and gestured toward himself.
Srada bit the inside of her lip.
GOOD-LOOKING?! YOUR BOXERS ARE STILL OUT HERE BROADCASTING TO THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!
But all she could manage to say was:
"Y-Yeah... you look good..."
She immediately wanted to swallow a spoon.
"Uh, I mean... neat! Wait, no! I mean... yeah. Whatever!"
Krish grinned.
He walked closer.
Srada grew even stiffer.
"Relax, Ra. You're pretty, too."
BAM.
Srada felt the Earth collapse beneath her feet.
BUT THE BOXERS WERE STILL THERE, DAMMIT!
Still hanging on.
Still covered in polka dots.
Still screaming HELLO, WORLD!
Srada finally couldn't take it anymore.
She cleared her throat.
"Krish..."
He nodded.
"Hm?"
Srada slowly pointed her chin downward.
"Your pants..."
Krish glanced down.
"...OH, SHIT!!!"
He immediately jumped half a meter into the air before sprinting back toward his bedroom.
"I FORGOT TO PUT MY PANTS ON!!!"
SLAM!
The bedroom door shut.
Srada covered her mouth, desperately trying to hold back her laughter.
Tears of pure joy streamed down her face.
"THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!"
Krish finally emerged from his room again.
This time, he was FULLY EQUIPPED.
His pants were in the correct position, and his pink polka-dot boxers had officially retired from public exposure.
Black shoes.
Mismatched socks.
He didn't care.
His beloved denim jacket was back on, and his tool bag was ready for action.
He flicked his hair slightly.
"All right. Let's go."
He flashed a casual smile.
"I'll drop you off at school first, then head over to Mrs. Markonah's place."
Srada gave him one last cautious glance.
Just to make sure...
Okay. Pants are on. We're safe.
She nodded and hurried to her feet.
But the moment they stepped outside...
Srada stopped dead.
Her eyes bulged.
A TWO-LEGGED MONSTER STOOD BEFORE HER.
A motorcycle.
More specifically...
UNCLE TAKASHIMA'S MOTORCYCLE.
It was ancient.
Its color was hard to describe.
Moss green, buried beneath layers of rust dating back to the Majapahit Empire.
The handlebars leaned at a questionable angle.
The headlight had only one functioning eye, and even that looked like a zombie's last remaining eyeball.
Only one side mirror remained, cracked like a relationship doomed from the start.
The license plate?
BENT.
Krish patted the fuel tank, which was peeling so badly that flakes of metal were practically begging to retire.
"Relax, Ra. This is a warrior's bike."
He smiled with absolute confidence.
In his hand was a hand-me-down helmet with CLASS 6-A written on it in permanent marker.
Srada stared at the helmet.
"Is that... your elementary school helmet?"
Krish grinned proudly.
"Rare collectible. Vintage. Show some respect."
Srada went silent.
A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.
She muttered under her breath.
"THE ONLY THING THIS WARRIOR'S BIKE IS GONNA FIGHT IS THE BLOOD FLOW TO MY ASS."
She took a deep breath.
"Krish..."
"Hm?"
"Are you sure about this?"
Krish nodded.
"One hundred percent."
As Krish rummaged through his bag for the keys, a head suddenly appeared above them.
UNCLE TAKASHIMA.
Still holding his hammer.
Still smoking.
His breath sent smoke curling into the air like an industrial chimney.
From the rooftop, he glared down at them.
"HEY, KRISH! YOU'RE TAKING THAT THING OUT AGAIN?!"
His voice was so loud that a neighbor's chicken practically launched itself into a drainage ditch.
Krish looked up and raised a hand.
"YEAH, UNCLE! I'M DROPPING SRADA OFF!"
Srada immediately got flustered.
"H-Hey! Don't say it like that, Krish! Good grief..."
But inside her head:
OH, MY GOD. IS HIS FACE THE ONLY THING THAT'S GONNA MAKE ME FLUSTERED TODAY?!
"OH, WAIT A SECOND!" Takashima called again.
He checked his cigarette pocket, only to discover it was empty.
His expression suddenly turned frantic.
"KRISH! WHILE YOU'RE OUT, BUY ME SOME CIGARETTES! THE USUAL BRAND! BLACK PACK!"
Krish frowned.
"Dude, I'm already running late."
"It'll only take a second! You're passing Mpok Iyem's shop anyway! It's right on the way!"
Krish let out a long sigh of defeat.
"...Fine, fine."
Behind him, Srada rubbed her chest.
IS THIS FAMILY ACTUALLY JUST A GROUP OF GUYS HANGING OUT AT A ROADSIDE STALL?!
Takashima grinned, his cigarette still dangling from his lips.
He pulled the motorcycle key from his pocket.
Then...
HE THREW IT.
The key spun through the air in dramatic slow motion.
Srada assumed it would gently land in Krish's hand.
NOPE.
THE KEY FLEW LIKE A FUCKING SHURIKEN.
WHACK!
It landed squarely in Krish's hand, forcing him to take half a step backward.
Takashima burst out laughing.
"DON'T FLOOR IT, KRISH!"
Krish grinned.
"GOT IT, UNCLE!"
He inserted the key.
Srada stood frozen.
She swallowed nervously.
I SWEAR THIS BIKE IS GONNA CATCH TUBERCULOSIS JUST FROM LOOKING AT IT!
Krish tried the starter.
Once.
GRRRRREEEKKK!
Nothing.
Twice.
NGEEEEENG!
The motorcycle coughed.
Three times...
NGENGENGENGENG!
BRRRRRRRRRRMMMMM!!!
Srada jumped.
The engine roared to life.
Black smoke poured from the exhaust.
Every bird perched on the nearby power lines immediately evacuated the area.
Krish patted the rear seat.
"Hop on, Ra."
Srada stared at the torn seat.
The foam inside looked like it had become a permanent residence for an entire family of rats.
She took a deep breath.
"If we crash..."
Krish glanced at her.
"I'll take responsibility."
And eventually...
She climbed on.
Holding onto the back of Krish's jacket.
Krish twisted the throttle.
The motorcycle moved.
But...
The front wheel swerved slightly.
Srada immediately screamed.
"KRISH!!!"
Krish just grinned.
"Relax. It's a feature."
AND OFF THEY WENT.
Krish accelerated gently, though to Srada, the engine sounded like a tractor suffering from severe digestive problems.
The vibration was unbelievable.
It was so bad that she could practically feel her kidneys doing jumping jacks inside her body.
But whatever.
She stayed quiet.
And held on.
Her hands rested against Krish's jacket.
Surprisingly, it smelled nice.
Like some kind of detergent that had been sponsored by TikTok.
Then...
A few meters down the road...
SOMETHING WAS WRONG.
There was noise.
A lot of noise.
Way too much noise.
Srada glanced at the rearview mirror.
And...
THERE WAS AN ENTIRE PARADE OF CHILDREN FOLLOWING THEM.
A full-on Independence Day parade, except this one was dedicated to escorting an ancient motorcycle.
The kids were going absolutely wild.
One was carrying a torn laundry-shop banner as a flag.
Another had turned an empty bucket into a drum, beating it with a spoon.
Someone else was waving a broken electric fan like a national flag.
Holy shit.
It looked like MAD MAX: VILLAGE EDITION.
Krish grinned and waved casually at them.
"YO! MORNING, YOU LITTLE GREMLINS!"
The kids screamed back:
"GOOOOD MORNING, BIG BRO KRISHHH!!!"
They danced around, some doing flips, others attempting splits on the muddy road.
Nobody cared.
Srada stared in disbelief.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! AM I GETTING ESCORTED LIKE A BRIDE OR SOMETHING?!"
She quickly ducked her head.
Her cheeks turned red again.
It wasn't just embarrassment anymore.
THIS WAS EMBARRASSMENT PLUS A LIVE TIKTOK BROADCAST.
Suddenly...
The kid at the front, carrying an empty water jug, stopped dead.
His eyes widened.
He pointed directly at Srada.
The other kids followed his gaze.
"WHAAAAAAAAAT?!"
They rushed forward like a horde of zombies desperate for a Scarlett endorsement.
Their eyes scanned Srada from head to toe.
Her borrowed helmet.
Her cropped hoodie tied around her waist.
Her crossbody bag.
And then...
BOOM.
Their eyes locked onto her LIPS.
Kid #1:
"YO, HER LIPS ARE SO DAMN BIG! SHE LOOKS LIKE AN ONDEL-ONDEL PUPPET!"
Kid #2 immediately chimed in.
"HEY! DID SHE PAINT HER LIPS WITH A WHOLE CAN OF PAINT OR WHAT?!"
Srada went silent.
A vein twitched at her temple.
Her chest rose and fell.
Inside her head:
I WANNA MURDER THESE LITTLE SHITS, BUT THEY'RE STILL IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL...
Krish glanced over his shoulder, flashing a wide grin.
"Relax, Ra. They're my fans. A little savage, sure, but they're loyal."
Srada let out a quiet sigh.
"FANS?! THESE LITTLE BRATS ARE INSULTING ME, YOU IDIOT!"
Krish laughed and patted one of the kids on the head.
"All right, scram! I'll buy you guys some meatball soup later!"
The children immediately cheered.
"BAKSOOOOO!!!"
They scattered, racing away on their old-fashioned bicycles.
Some were riding three to a bike.
Others had tires so flat they looked like they'd given up on life.
Krish twisted the throttle again.
Srada lowered her head even further.
Her face was redder than a tomato that had been over-fertilized.
The motorcycle rolled down the road, its exhaust coughing softly and releasing thin wisps of smoke.
Krish drove casually, occasionally checking the rearview mirror with his left hand to make sure Srada hadn't fallen off.
The morning breeze was cool.
Comfortable.
Almost too comfortable.
And that was the problem.
The motorcycle continued along at a leisurely pace, its engine sounding relatively stable.
Relatively, of course.
For a machine that probably belonged in a museum.
Srada held tightly to Krish from behind, watching the road grow quieter and more deserted.
Normally, she wouldn't have cared.
But today, something felt... strange.
"Krish..."
"Hm?"
"Why's the road suddenly so empty?"
Krish grinned.
"It's usually pretty empty around here, Ra."
Srada glanced from side to side.
The road was deserted.
The wind blew past them, but somehow it felt colder than before.
A faint chill crept up her spine.
...
Then came a sound.
Crack.
Soft.
Like a twig snapping.
Srada quickly turned toward the left.
Nothing.
Just bushes lining the roadside.
But...
For some reason, she could've sworn she'd seen something there.
"Krish... why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
Krish chuckled.
"Relax. You're not pregnant."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH."
But Srada couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
As if...
SOMEONE WAS WATCHING THEM.
She tightened her grip around Krish's jacket.
The strange feeling followed them.
Meanwhile...
On a small hill overlooking the road, a man stood perfectly still.
His eyes were fixed on the battered motorcycle moving slowly in the distance.
As though he'd been waiting for them.
A long black robe concealed his body.
His face was buried in shadow, save for a pair of faintly glowing eyes.
Red.
Dim.
Like embers on the verge of going out.
He didn't blink.
A metal staff stood upright in his hand, its pointed tip facing downward.
Its base hovered just above the ground.
It wasn't planted in the soil.
It was merely touching it.
Yet the earth beneath it had fractured like glass struck by a stone.
And not a sound was heard.
The wind suddenly stopped.
Birds that had been flying overhead settled silently onto the branches, as though they no longer dared to chirp.
Cigarette smoke curled around the man's head.
Thick.
Heavy.
"It's time," he whispered.
He tapped his staff once.
Gently.
Yet the sound struck the air with unnatural force.
With that single tap, the surrounding leaves trembled and fell from their branches.
"Miracle of Technology," he hissed.
He tapped his staff a second time.
...
Far below, Srada suddenly shivered.
"Hey, Krish..."
"What now?"
"Don't you feel it? Like... the air's different somehow?"
Krish glanced at her briefly.
"Maybe it's just you, Ra."
Srada didn't answer.
But far behind them, high atop the hill...
The cloaked man remained motionless, his eyes still following their every move.
...
Then, at last, he turned around.
And disappeared into the mist.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Left hanging, but don't worry. Our relationship isn't the thing that's hanging. 😜
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