Even when he's gone, it's obvious he's very pleased with today's unexpected turn of events. The things that go vroom speak both to better times and also a kind of freedom that suits that solitary streak of his. He's lived in contradictory state for a long time: never really alone and yet often entirely isolated. Even before the chairmanship he was the Dojima heir, with money and influence in Tokyo's strongest clan. There were always people around him, always people looking to him, always needing him, and many of them never seeing Daigo. Only Dojima. He could get away from them with a grin if he picked up in a race. Zen moments all to himself with the scenery flashing by.
He knows a pretty good straight away on the edge of town, as much of a 'country' road as you get around Sumarlok before it turns into wasteland too dangerous to be out on. Overgrown grass, flowers, weeds at the edge of the road and rarely any other traffic. It's not that the high speeds don't give him an adrenaline spike... it's more that the adrenaline spike causes him to narrow in with focused certainty. The amethyst flares with an eager force of wind, and he tears through the sparrow's gears until it shakes. He leaves behind dust devils of swirling leaves and flower petals, dragging back down to stationary much further away than he'd intended to. No brakes, indeed.
He'll be out there until he starts to get that headache that tells him he's actually starting to dip his manna, and then he'll finally come back. How long was that? He wasn't really paying attention at all. When he sweeps his helmet back off, his hair is a little damp from the exertion and the day's heat but he's also relaxed and happy with the indulgence.
"She's sweet," he determines cheekily. Not as smooth or as fast as his bike, but he's also been tuning that bike for the past few months. "Are you going to let us do the maintenance?"
no subject
He knows a pretty good straight away on the edge of town, as much of a 'country' road as you get around Sumarlok before it turns into wasteland too dangerous to be out on. Overgrown grass, flowers, weeds at the edge of the road and rarely any other traffic. It's not that the high speeds don't give him an adrenaline spike... it's more that the adrenaline spike causes him to narrow in with focused certainty. The amethyst flares with an eager force of wind, and he tears through the sparrow's gears until it shakes. He leaves behind dust devils of swirling leaves and flower petals, dragging back down to stationary much further away than he'd intended to. No brakes, indeed.
He'll be out there until he starts to get that headache that tells him he's actually starting to dip his manna, and then he'll finally come back. How long was that? He wasn't really paying attention at all. When he sweeps his helmet back off, his hair is a little damp from the exertion and the day's heat but he's also relaxed and happy with the indulgence.
"She's sweet," he determines cheekily. Not as smooth or as fast as his bike, but he's also been tuning that bike for the past few months. "Are you going to let us do the maintenance?"