DC X Rider Ch 161

"Lena, this is incredible," Haruka said, stepping forward. His voice was a low murmur, barely audible above the hum of the simulation room. "Seriously, what you've done here... it's next-level."

He wasn't lying. He had seen Riders push themselves to limits. He had seen Atlanteans wield the power of the ocean. But what Lena had just accomplished, with nothing but her intellect and a chunk of green rock, was something else entirely.

Lena, however, remained unimpressed. She dismissed his praise with a wave of her hand, her yellow eyes still fixed on the wreckage of the simulated robots. "It's passable," she said, her voice flat. "But it's not your level. The parameters didn't even come close."

Haruka frowned. He knew Lena's drive, her relentless pursuit of perfection, but sometimes it bordered on self-destructive. She never gave herself credit.

"Don't sell yourself short," Haruka said, stepping closer. "My body's not exactly normal. You're working with human limits, and you've already shattered them."

He gestured to his own chest, a vague reference to the enhancements he had received, the genetic lottery he had somehow won. The Kamen Rider Ichigo Physiology was, after all, a hell of a thing. Add in the Stronger Cyber Enhancements, and you had a cocktail of power that bordered on the absurd.

Lena's gaze sharpened, her eyes locking onto his. She had always been perceptive, able to see through the carefully constructed walls he erected around himself. "So..." she said, her voice slow and measured. "You're a metahuman?"

Haruka hesitated. It was a question he had been dreading, a line he had been carefully avoiding. He couldn't lie, not to Lena. But he also couldn't reveal the full truth, not yet. The world of Kamen Riders, the System, the reincarnation... it was too much, too strange, too unbelievable.

"Something like that," he said, his voice deliberately vague. He offered her a small, apologetic smile. "It's... complicated."

Lena's eyes narrowed, and Haruka knew she wasn't satisfied with his answer. But, to his relief, she didn't press. Instead, a slow smile spread across her face, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Well, whatever you are, it's clearly working for you," she said, her gaze drifting back to the simulation room. "And I intend to find out everything about it."

Haruka chuckled, relieved to be off the hook. For now. "Maybe some other time," he said. "Right now, I think we should celebrate. You just created a Kryptonite-powered armor. That's a pretty big win."

Lena's eyes lit up, her competitive spirit re-engaged. "You're right," she said, her voice brimming with energy. "We should. I know just the place. It's a new restaurant downtown, high-end, exclusive. The food is supposed to be incredible."

Haruka raised an eyebrow. "Sounds expensive."

Lena shrugged, a casual gesture that spoke volumes about her wealth. "It's worth it. Besides," she added, a teasing glint in her eyes, "you deserve a treat."

Haruka smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. He enjoyed spending time with Lena, enjoyed their banter, their intellectual sparring. It was a connection he hadn't expected, a friendship forged in the crucible of science and secrets.

He was about to agree when Lena's words registered. "High-end?" he asked, his smile fading slightly. "As in... dress code?"

Lena nodded, her smile widening. "Strictly enforced. No exceptions."

Haruka groaned. He hadn't even thought about it. His wardrobe consisted mostly of jeans, t-shirts, and the occasional hoodie. He hadn't exactly prepared for a night out at a fancy restaurant.

"I don't think I have anything appropriate," he said, his voice laced with resignation.

Lena laughed, a bright, melodic sound that filled the room. "Don't worry," she said, grabbing her purse. "I have a solution for that too. Come on, let's go."

Haruka frowned, confused. "Where are we going?"

Lena grinned, already heading towards the door. "To get you a suit, of course. I know a tailor. Best in the city. He can have you looking like a million bucks in no time."

…

The bell above the door CHIMES softly as Lena leads Haruka into an upscale tailor’s shop. Sunlight streams through the large front windows, illuminating rows of impeccably tailored suits in varying shades of gray, navy, and black. The air smells faintly of cedar and expensive fabric.

A slender man with slicked-back hair and a measuring tape draped around his neck approaches them. "Ms. Luthor, always a pleasure. And who is this gentleman you've brought in today?"

"Jean-Pierre, this is Haruka Kojima. He needs a suit. And he needs it fast."

Jean-Pierre's eyes gleam. "Ah, an urgent matter. I adore those. We shall have him looking like a movie star in no time. Right this way."

Jean-Pierre leads Haruka to a raised platform near a three-way mirror. He circles him, appraising him with a practiced eye. "Hmm, yes. I have just the thing in mind. A classic cut, but with a modern flair. It will accentuate your… assets."

Haruka shifts uncomfortably as Jean-Pierre begins draping fabrics over him and scribbling notes on a pad. He glances over at Lena, who is lounging on a plush velvet chaise lounge, flipping through a magazine. Her red dress shimmers under the light.

Jean-Pierre snaps his fingers. "Ah, yes! Blue, the color of loyalty and confidence! Perfect!" He bustles off, returning moments later with a half-finished blue suit.

For the next hour, Haruka stands patiently as Jean-Pierre works his magic. The tailor’s hands are quick and precise. He darts around Haruka, pinning, tucking, and adjusting. Haruka marvels at the craftsmanship, the way the fabric seems to mold itself to his body.

“There we are!” Jean-Pierre exclaims, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Just needs a few finishing touches, and… voilà!”

He ushers Haruka towards a changing room. "Try it on, my boy! Let's see the masterpiece."

Haruka emerges a few minutes later, buttoning the jacket. The blue suit fits him perfectly, hugging his shoulders and tapering at the waist. He glances at himself in the mirror, feeling a strange mix of self-consciousness and…dare he say it…confidence.

Lena lowers her magazine, her eyes widening slightly. "You clean up nicely, Haruka. Who knew a simple suit could make such a difference?"

"Thanks, but honestly, I'm not used to this. Feels like I'm playing dress-up."

Lena smiles, standing up and approaching him. She straightens his tie with a gentle touch. "You’ll get used to it. Trust me."

Lena takes Haruka's arm, and they leave the tailor’s shop, stepping out into the cool night air. A sleek black limousine awaits them, its engine purring softly. The driver, a burly man in a dark suit, holds the door open.

Inside, the limousine is plush and comfortable, with soft leather seats and ambient lighting. Lena settles in, a faint smile playing on her lips. Haruka awkwardly takes a seat beside her, adjusting his tie.

The limousine glides through the city streets, passing towering skyscrapers and bustling sidewalks. Soon, they arrive at a restaurant, its entrance marked by a discreet sign and a velvet rope. A doorman in a crisp uniform greets them with a respectful nod.

"Good evening, Ms. Luthor. Your table is ready."

Inside, the restaurant is a world of understated elegance. Soft jazz music drifts through the air, and the clinking of silverware blends with hushed conversations. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over impeccably dressed patrons.

I’ve never been to a place like this. It’s… a lot.

Lena chuckles. "Sometimes, you need to treat yourself. Especially after a win like tonight."

A waiter, attentive and impeccably mannered, leads them to a table with a panoramic view of the city. The twinkling lights stretch out before them like a spilled box of diamonds. Haruka is momentarily stunned by the opulence.

The waiter presents them with menus bound in leather. Haruka glances at the prices, his eyes widening. Holy crap, that’s my entire week’s allowance in one appetizer!

They order their meals—Lena opting for a delicate seafood dish, Haruka cautiously selecting a less extravagant steak. As they wait, Lena raises her glass of sparkling water.

"To success, and to proving them all wrong."

Haruka clinks his glass against hers. "To that."

The food arrives, beautifully presented and undeniably delicious. Haruka savors each bite, but his mind is racing. This is a far cry from the instant ramen and day-old bread he used to survive on.

What about you, Lena? Why do all this? What's the endgame?

Lena sighs softly, her gaze drifting to the city lights. "To prove that the Luthor name can stand for more than destruction. To show that science can be a force for good. What about you, Haruka? Why put on the armor?"

He pauses, considering his answer. The weight of his past, the faces of those he’s failed to save, flash through his mind.

"Because someone has to. And because… I’ve seen what happens when no one does."

…

The limousine pulls up to the sleek, modern entrance of Lena’s penthouse. The driver opens the door, and Haruka steps out, extending a hand to help Lena. They stand for a moment on the sidewalk, the city lights casting long shadows around them.

"Thanks for tonight, Haruka. It was… refreshing." Lena’s eyes sparkle with genuine appreciation.

"Same here. I’m glad I got to see this side of you. The real you." He means it. The Lena Luthor he saw tonight was different from the calculating CEO he’d initially pegged her to be.

Lena smiles, a playful glint in her eye. "There’s more to me than you think. Maybe next time, you’ll get to see even more."

Haruka’s heart does a little skip. “Maybe,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, though he’s still processing the intensity of the evening, the shared laughter, the glimpses into Lena's soul.

Lena leans in slightly. "Goodnight, Haruka."

As Lena disappears into the penthouse, Haruka stands on the sidewalk, a soft breeze ruffling his hair. He takes a deep breath, the city air filling his lungs. He glances up at the towering building, the lights of Lena’s penthouse a warm beacon in the night.

Damn, I really misjudged her.

***

Author here. Suggest what name Lena's Kamen Rider will be.