Phil lifted his leg, and kicked Bob’s right leg as hard as he could. Bob’s leg lifted, and Phil stomped on the gas. “STEER!” he yelled. Bob cranked the wheel to the right to avoid the oncoming cars, then left to avoid a few more. Horns blared, brakes screeched and the Grand Prix swerved about, somehow missing everything.
Mokoto frowned. She didn’t have a clear shot. Her gun didn’t even make it out of her jacket. She was about to rev up and chase them down once again.
“Nice bike.”
Mokoto twisted around, and saw a small girl. She was of Asian ancestry, though not purely Japanese like Mokoto. Her hair was in pigtails and she was on a pink bicycle. Her Hello Kitty shirt had juice stains and her cargo pants were a size or three too big.
“How…how long have you been there?”
“I followed you down the street. I want a motorcycle someday, and yours looks really nice. Mine will be pink though.”
Mokoto lifted the visor on her helmet. “I don’t think they make the Ninja 14 in pink.”
“I’ll get my brother to paint it. He likes to paint stuff.”
“What’s your name?”
“Sakura.”
“Well Sakura, you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“I know, but I can tell you have a good tama.”
Mokoto froze for a moment. “A good tama? How can you be sure? Wait, do you know what that is?”
“It’s your spirit.”
Mokoto pulled her helmet off and looked the girl over. Something about her seemed familiar, and maybe a bit too familiar. She wasn’t sure how to respond.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“What?”
“You’re sad now. Was it something I said?”
“Hm” Mokoto said. “You’re very perceptive Sakura. More or less. My name’s Mokoto. I’m just passing through town.”
“Is that why you had that GPS thingie out?”
Damn this kid doesn’t miss anything Mokoto thought. Well, maybe one thing. “That’s right. I’m…trying to find some friends.”
“Well I hope you find them.”
From down the street a voice called out. “SAKURA!”
“That’s my mommy. I have to go home Mokoto. It was nice meeting you.”
Mokoto smiled. “Likewise.”
Sakura reached into her pocket, and pulled out a something and set it on the back of the motorcycle. “Here. If you decide to sell your motorcycle, let me know. My bank is almost full.” She then turned her bike around and rode down the sidewalk. Mokoto picked up the small rectangle. It was one of her school pictures. Mokoto shook her head. Doesn’t this girl know there are some real monsters in this world? She tucked the picture in her inner jacket pocket, right by her gun and sighed. I’m one of them. The monster with a good tama. Yeah right. Mokoto looked down at her motorcycle. She shook her head, knowing what she was about to do was once again not a textbook move. Her hand went for her front pocket, and she pulled out her Nokia. She scrolled through the uploaded contacts. She found the number, and hit dial. Two rings later, an answer.
“This is Bob, who’s this?”
