The hum of tires on pavement echoed beneath the early morning sky, as Sho and Makoto pedaled side by side through the quiet suburban stretch that separated their old training grounds from the city. Traffic hadn't yet stirred fully, and the streets belonged to them—for now.
Makoto rode with easy grace, her ponytail swaying with each shift of her body weight. Sho was ahead by half a wheel, coasting slightly, his red-rimmed Flame Kaiser glinting with the rhythm of the sunlight filtering between buildings.
It was supposed to be a quiet ride to campus. Their classes started late today. Nothing unusual.
That's why Makoto blinked in surprise when Sho suddenly leaned into a sharp right and veered into a narrow alleyway without warning.
"H-Hey! Sho?" she called after him, standing on her pedals to catch up. "That's not—what are you doing?"
She rolled to a stop at the alley's mouth, glancing around. The place was tucked between two old buildings, one an auto repair shop closed for the day, the other some nameless storage place. The alley itself was shaded and quiet, with only a few beams of sunlight slicing through.
Makoto dismounted, slowly wheeling her bike in. "Sho?"
Nothing. Just the faint tick of cooling metal, her own breath, the distant drone of a passing car.
"S-Sho, this isn't funny."
The silence began to grow heavier. She left her bike propped against the wall and took a tentative step deeper into the alley, looking over her shoulder. The tension built in her chest—was this a prank? Had he ridden ahead and circled around?
"Idiot," she muttered to herself, now half-annoyed, half-nervous.
And then—
A warm hand grabbed her wrist.
"Ah—!"
Before she could react, her back hit the wall—not hard, but sudden enough that it stole her breath. Her wrist was pinned gently above her shoulder, and a familiar figure leaned in from the shadow.
Sho's face was just inches from hers, his eyes lit with mischief and something deeper. His breath was warm against her cheek.
"Mako-chan…" he murmured.
Her eyes went wide. "You… jerk! You scared me!"
"You're cute when you're scared."
She flushed hard, turning her head away, but his grip didn't loosen.
"You remember," he said, voice low, "back in the X-Zone? You used to yell at me every other second."
"You deserved it! You always acted without thinking—taking shortcuts, ignoring danger—!"
Sho chuckled, leaning closer, his free hand brushing her hip. "And you always patched me up afterward. No matter how mad you were."
Makoto's lips parted, breath caught somewhere between indignation and something softer.
"I remember," he went on, "after that time I crashed during the Volcano Zone race. You were furious. Screaming at me for being reckless. And then… you sat beside me all night. Didn't sleep. Not even a wink."
Makoto's blush deepened. "You… idiot. You had a broken wrist. I couldn't just leave you."
Sho's hand moved to her waist, fingers tightening lightly. "But you stayed… even when you could've walked away. That's when I started falling for you."
Her heart skipped. He rarely said it like that—not directly. Not in words. She always felt it in gestures, in glances, in the way he carried her water bottle or adjusted her seat when she wasn't looking.
But now… here in this alley, between class and memory, he was saying it.
"Sho…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
He leaned in, brushing his nose gently against hers. "I couldn't resist. You were always there, yelling, watching, worrying. You were the voice in my head even when I raced alone."
Makoto let out a shaky breath. Her hand, still pinned, loosened as he let her wrist slide free. She didn't pull away.
Instead, her fingers touched his cheek, then his jawline, rough with faint stubble. "You really remember all that?"
"I remember everything," Sho murmured, before pressing his lips to hers.
The kiss wasn't frantic. It was slow, deliberate—years of tension unraveling into warmth. Her hand slid behind his neck, holding him there as their mouths moved, soft and coaxing. Her legs, slightly parted, held him between her hips as he leaned fully into her, caging her gently against the wall.
Makoto gasped softly as he kissed down her jaw, his fingers slipping under the hem of her jacket, tracing the curve of her waist.
"You're warm," he whispered against her skin. "Just like back then, when we shared that tent in the rain. You shook the whole night… but you never said a word."
She smiled faintly, brushing her thumb across his lips. "You never noticed I was cold. You were too busy grumbling about missing breakfast."
He laughed quietly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "That was the worst night ever."
"You mean the best."
"…Maybe."
Makoto's breath caught again as Sho's hand slid up her back, pressing her gently against the wall, mouth returning to hers, deeper this time. His lips moved with familiarity, with a hunger tempered by restraint—he wasn't rushing, but he wasn't holding back either.
She moaned softly into his mouth, fingers tangled in his jacket, heart thudding so loud she was sure he could hear.
Sho's hand moved to her thigh, lifting slightly. She shivered.
"Sho," she whispered.
He paused, leaning his forehead to hers.
"I miss this," he said. "I miss us, when it's just the two of us."
Her voice trembled. "You've been so busy. Racing. Winning. Signing things."
"I hate being away from you."
"Then don't be," she said, pulling him back into another kiss.
This one was messier, breathless. Their bodies pressed fully now, heat rising between them.
The world outside the alley vanished. There was only the sound of breath, the rustle of clothes, the faint creak of leather gloves and shifting shoes.
He kissed her lips, her cheek, her ear. "I want more," he whispered.
Makoto looked up at him, eyes half-lidded. "Then take your time," she said, softly. "We're not in a race anymore."
Sho smiled into her hair. "That's the first time you've ever said that."
Makoto's cheeks turned crimson. "Shut up."
"Make me."
She did.
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END OF CHAPTER : 2 : THE ALLEY WHERE WE CHANGED!
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