He was on an FZR

The engine sound echoes.
Two 250cc 4-stroke motorcycles, an FZR and a ZXR, ride side-by-side down the night-time National Route 2 (Nikoku).

Taka and I are the same age.
We have been childhood friends since we were little.
Taka transferred to our school in the fourth grade.
Back then, my only impression of him was that he had big eyes and laughed a lot.
Even in junior high, we didn't really hang out that much.
Once we hit high school, we grew closer and started hanging out together. We were about the same build. I was a little thinner, but we worked the same part-time job in the neighborhood.

Taka invited me to work at the fish shop in the supermarket.
Among those times, the memories from when we were around twenty stand out the most.

I learned most of the bad things from Taka.
Smoking, motorcycles, how to pick up girls...
Taka was the only one who couldn't drink alcohol.
Perhaps due to his older brother's influence, Taka was usually ahead of the curve.
One day,

"Makotchan, want to ride my bike?"
It was the moped Taka rode.
Of course, I had a license, but I was resistant to hopping on someone else's bike.
"You shouldn't, if I crash, the bike will get wrecked," I said, sounding worried, but he brushed it off.
"It's fine! I definitely won't crash," said the optimistic Taka.
In the end, I decided to ride it.
However, the Jog bike of that time had more power than I expected, and on top of that, it was Taka's 'magically' modified version.
I was instantly thrown off, and the Jog went off on its own. It wasn't just about the Jog. I dashed after it...
Looking at the Jog lying on the side of the road, Taka looked sad.
"I guess I'll buy a 250 after all. A 250."
He said, renewing his resolve, but contrary to that, the wheels of the fallen Jog were spinning pointlessly with a rattling sound.

After that, Taka bought a Yamaha FZR250 from an upperclassman. Apparently, he got it for a steal, around 100,000 yen.
Influenced by Taka, I bought a used Kawasaki ZXR250 for 500,000 yen with a 'Mom loan'.
We went everywhere on those 'bikes'.

Nanko, Hokko, Suma Beach.
We mostly went out at night, and usually to the sea.

We would giggle at the couples who came to see the night view.
Back then, just riding the bikes was enough.
The two bikes rode through the neon-lit streets of Osaka, emitting their unique, high-pitched exhaust notes.
The two bikes cutting through the darkness rode happily in a line, sometimes passing each other.
In front of the police, we were model students. Obeying the speed limit.

Up to 60 km/h, we would twist the throttle wide open, making that cool engine sound only riders understand—vroom, vroom, vroom...
One autumn night, we sat on top of the jungle gym at our usual green park, drinking canned coffee with our helmets in hand.
"You know, Makoto, I want to keep being an idiot like this forever."
Taka said while drinking his sugary coffee.

"What's with that? That's suddenly creepy."
Even as I said that, I felt like Taka was suddenly going to go far away.
"No, I just thought that. It doesn't mean anything deep."
In the cloudless sky, the full moon shone eerily.
The chirping of crickets echoed through the quiet night. The wind blew hard and it started to get chilly, so we sang Ozaki songs together on the way home.
The next morning, I had an email from Taka.
"Makoto, I'm quitting bikes."

Those words weighed heavily on my heart.
We rode bikes because there were two of us.

We rode Nikoku because there were two of us.
We went to the green park because there were two of us.
It felt like a goodbye to all of that.
I kept riding.
For many, many years after that.
Even now that I'm an old man, I still ride.
Taka got a job after that and started driving cars for a living.

It seems he realized the importance of a license.
But I have never known such fun, sparkling nights since then.
Now, my partner has changed to an XJR. The displacement has increased to 400cc. But even with this reliable partner, it doesn't compare to the memories of that ZXR250.
I love bikes, but I can't forget the Nikoku we rode that night. I am still searching for Taka's throttle music played from the FZR's magically modified muffler.
I will never meet Taka on that road again.
Because he said goodbye to bikes that day...

Did he leave me behind?

He always rides ahead, after all.
Where is he riding now, I wonder?