Daisuke Miyamoto was a lot of things. Bit of a troublemaker. Not that great at academics. Hard worker, stubborn to a fault, and borderline fearless. People who knew him from grade school might say brave. His sister would. But the thing about bravery, at the end of the day, is that to be brave, you've gotta be a little stupid. 

Daisuke had that covered.

Which probably explained why, at the sight of a crash, he was sprinting [i]towards[/i] the scene of a horrific accident, and not away. He was making a beeline for the cab, at first, despite the obvious damage. If there was even remotely a chance anyone was alive in there, he was gonna get them out. His bike practically left the ground, the handlebars proving to be useful in nudging members of the crowd out of the way. They were all standing so fucking still, shouldn't someone be calling an ambulance? The cops? [i]Someone?[/i] Fuck, even he wasn't so goddamn brain-dead. He could feel his heart sinking lower and lower the closer he got, though. No one was alive in the-

[i]R͉̲e̠̲̙͜e̢͖̗̼͕̝̜͕e̸̯o̶̺̤̲͓ͅo̟͙̬̮͕̕o̧̹̜͇o̦̺̦̥o̴͕̜̱͍o̳̺̺͉o͉͓̟͈̙o̝̙o̮͉͔͚͔͞o̭͉w͙͉̙!̪̺͓̻̘[/i]


...

Instead of sinking lower, his heart leaped into his throat and started beating like a jackhammer. Something about that noise was [i]wrong[/i], and the banging of metal on metal wasn't helping. When the first bot emerged from the wreckage, he had already started thanking his lucky stars he wasn't headed into work today. He'd be [i]so[/i] late. He was locked, for the first few minutes, in a staredown with the lead droid. He probably looked crazy. But something about it [i]felt[/i] wrong, like there was something more behind the sickly gold than mere ones and zeroes. Still, even if he wasn't the best student, even Daisuke knew one thing.

You didn't ship your product pre-activated.

He stuffed the gum from Kimiko in his mouth dutifully, but didn't say anything just yet. He dropped his bike, first and foremost, and rolled his shoulders back, pushing his shoulderblades together until he felt the familiar, satisfying stretch. Without taking his eyes off the lead mech, he crouched down and scooped up a long, thin piece of debris off the ground. Heavy, battered, and metal. Might have been a part of the truck, might have been a signpost, it didn't look like much of anything anymore. But it'd do. He rapped it once, twice, thrice against a trashcan, hoping to break the trance the crowd seemed to be caught in.

"Listen to the man!" He yelled, pointing the rod briefly at Hitoshi before swinging it up and onto his shoulders, resting both wrists on its length. "Get the fuck goiing!"

The most efficient McDonalds-employed [s]reformed[/s] delinquent chewed the gum thoughtfully, still with his eyes locked on the machine ahead of him. He didn't get a good count, but there were a [i]lot.[/i]

"Well, Kimiko-chan. Think I'll take the ones on the left."