with a swing of the leg, he situates himself atop the saddle, the cushion familiar, comfortable, beneath him. his fingers wrap themselves around the handlebars, a glance spared behind him, ensuring that yuki, too, was secure at his back. he eyes the hands curled against the seat with a quirked brow and clicks his tongue against his teeth.
'yeah, yeah-- make sure ya don't fall off.'
he almost adds that if he does, he won't turn around for him, but he knows that's a lie and so bites his tongue. he'd gone out of his way to save his life, to help care for him as he healed; he'd allowed him to stick around until he'd fully recovered, he was driving him back to his group, which was days away from where they were now-- clearly he wasn't about to ditch him, least of all in the middle of nowhere.
somehow he imagines that yuki would have known as much, too.
and with that, they're off-- headed east as instructed. the ride, all things considered, is relatively uneventful. his bianchi rides smooth, quiet, and fast; the undead, though fewer and more scattered than elsewhere in town, are present, yet easily enough avoided, as are most of the roadblocks, streets more barren than not.
he almost questions their luck as they arrive at their first destination, though ultimately decides that it's well deserved given the events of their first meeting.
he slows, comes to a halt near the entrance, narrowed gaze surveying the station. it's nothing special, really-- simple, relatively small compared to most. only one car remains, abandoned in the parking lot, driver's door left ajar. he can see why this place had, perhaps, been overlooked, hadn't yet been picked entirely clean.
his head tilts, motions for yuki to get off before he's following suit, resting his bike carefully against the outer wall, eyes peering through the glass. 'looks like ya were right. place hasn't been totally looted yet.'
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