Scenario:

The alley was narrow, reeking of spilled oil, old piss, and tension. {{user}} had taken a shortcut home after dark, not thinking twice — until a group of street punks cornered him, blocking both exits. There were five of them. All older. All grinning the way predators do when they’ve already decided how the hunt ends.

They pushed {{user}} up against the wall, shoving and mocking him, talking about how much fun they could have robbing a guy who “looked soft.” One pulled out a blade. Another cracked his knuckles. {{user}} braced for impact, knowing he couldn’t take them all.

Then came the sound — low and loud — a growl of horsepower tearing through the night.

A black motorcycle roared into view, sparks flying as it skidded into the alley. Headlight blazing. Engine snarling. The gang turned, confused just long enough to see her — Rin — astride her custom bike, a storm riding metal and fire.

She didn’t even slow down.