krils

[krils]

I got you by my side

Summary: Shisui Uchiha may be a master of stealth and genjutsu, but when it comes to riding a bike, he's no match for love and a few well-placed training wheels.

The sun was gentle today, casting golden light through the soft green leaves of the park trees. A breeze rustled the leaves as the two of you strolled down the worn dirt path. Shisui’s hand brushed yours occasionally, a silent question you always answered by reaching for him.

It was peaceful here, so different from the chaos that often surrounded a shinobi’s life.

“Look,” you said softly, nudging Shisui with your elbow.

Up ahead, a couple stood by a small red bicycle. Their son, maybe six or seven years old, wobbled uncertainly as he tried to pedal forward. His father kept one hand on the back of the seat, running alongside him with quick, encouraging shouts. The mother clapped as the boy managed a few feet on his own before toppling over into the grass, laughing.

Shisui gave a quiet smile at the sight. “He’s doing better than I would.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Wait, don’t tell me you don’t know how to ride a bike?”

He gave a sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don't.”

“What?” you laughed. “The Great Shisui Uchiha, the man who can flicker out of sight faster than I can blink can’t ride a bike?”

“Hey, I was training to be a ninja since I was five,” he said with a grin, nudging your shoulder. “By the time most kids were getting bikes, I was learning how to disarm grown men and throw kunai with deadly accuracy.”

You sobered slightly at that. “Ahh right... child soldiers.”

He nodded, eyes on the boy as he tried again. “Once I graduated from the Academy, I was sent to the front lines going on mission after mission. There wasn’t time for things like that.”

You looked down at your feet, your smile tinged with melancholy. “My parents taught me when I was seven. I remember falling a lot... My mom would kiss my scrapes and my dad would always say, ‘Fall forward, not backward, keep your eyes straight ahead.’ Funny how something that simple sticks with you.”

There was a beat of silence before you glanced at him, mischief dancing in your eyes.

“Well,” you said, stepping in front of him with arms crossed, “It’s settled. I’m teaching you how to ride.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Tomorrow. Right here. I’ll bring the bike, you bring the balance.”

He chuckled. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Shisui gave you that crooked grin of his, the one that always made your heart flutter. “Alright. Let’s see if I survive this.”

-----------------------------------------------

The sun was higher in the sky when Shisui arrived at the park, clad in a black long-sleeve shirt and his usual casual pants. He spotted you near the same grassy clearing, straddling a simple navy-blue bicycle, two helmets dangling from the handlebars.

He stared at the bike warily. “It looks... unstable.”

“It’s not a wild animal, Shisui,” you teased, tossing him one of the helmets. “Just a bike.”

He strapped it on with a dramatic sigh. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You’ll look even more ridiculous if you fall, so take this seriously,” you said with mock sternness. “Now get on.”

Shisui hesitated only briefly before swinging one leg over. He gripped the handlebars tightly. “How is this supposed to stay upright?”

“Because I’ll hold it,” you said, stepping behind him and steadying the seat. “Just focus on pedaling and balancing. I’ve got you.”

He turned his head slightly, his voice quieter. “You always do.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you just smiled. “Let’s go.”

You walked alongside him at first, hands firm on the seat and one on his shoulder. His movements were stiff, uncharacteristically awkward for someone usually so graceful. The pedals turned, and the wheels began to move, slowly but surely.

“Straighten up! Don’t lean too much to the left.”

“I’m not leaning!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m going to fall—!”

“No, you’re not! I’ve got you!”

He wobbled violently, and you burst into laughter as he stuck one foot out and caught himself just in time. “Okay, okay,” you said between giggles, “Take a break, breathe.”

He hopped off, face slightly flushed. “How do kids make this look easy?”

You handed him a bottle of water. “They don’t think so hard about it. Try again and this time, I’ll let go after a few seconds, but you won’t know when.”

He gave you a skeptical look but nodded. “Alright.”

This time, he found his rhythm a little quicker. You jogged beside him, heart pounding with each pedal he took on his own. After a few moments, you let go.

Shisui pedaled forward alone, upright, steady.

“Shisui!” you shouted. “You’re doing it!”

He turned to grin back at you and promptly crashed into a bush.

You ran over, trying (and failing) to stifle your laughter. “You okay?”

He groaned from within the branches. “Let’s say... partial success.”

You helped him up, brushing leaves from his hair. “You did great. You actually rode it.”

He looked at you, eyes soft with something deeper than amusement. “I guess it’s easier when you’re the one teaching me.”

You flushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well... if you ever need lessons in anything else, you know where to find me.”

He leaned in close, his voice low and warm. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And just like that, the park faded around you. There was only him, your brilliant, stubborn shinobi, and the sound of laughter echoing off into the summer air.