Chapter Text
“A ghost?”
“Yeah that's what it felt like driving behind it, I'm telling you Aniki. It was freaky.”
He turned the word around in his head, playing with the comical image of a car with a bed sheet over it, disappearing behind a dark hairpin, not a flicker of back lights left. His interest was pipped, he’d never heard his younger brother give such a title to a car before. An encounter so jarring it encroached on spiritual.
“From what you say it sounds like it.” Going over the cars he had seen just last night, it didn't meet what his brother was describing, none of the drivers had been more impressive then your common novice.
“Did you see what kind of car it was?” With a click on his laptop he made a new blank line in the next bracket, as the word cursor blinked at him Keisuke said nothing. Waiting, watching the little line blink at him. The silence hung in the air. Curious at the others' pause he turned away from the taunting flashing line and to his brother who sat at the edge of the bed face contorted into a sour sulk.
“It was an 86.” The other tore his eyes away from the carpet to look at him. Keisuke exuded all the energy of a water soaked cat. Now this was very interesting to Ryosuke.
“An 86” he echoed back perhaps with too much sarcasm cause Keisuke gave him a very pointed glare.
A ghost 86, a coincidence or perhaps Keisuke was dreaming behind the wheel. The other had been very clear he was only focused on racing lately. In return he had bumped Keisuke’s practice up over this summer, but maybe that was becoming a detriment to the others' psyche if he was seeing a 86 in the dead of night.
“Yeah it was an 86, I can recognize that stupid little car from anywhere.” Keisuke might be mad but he can tell the other is just as depressed as he gets whenever he loses some big weekend race.
“Don't call it stupid, the AE86 is quite a formidable car. You should know better than anyone.” Just because his little brother is sulking doesn’t mean he gets to talk crap about such a respectable car; that apparently also passed him. Keisuke still had yet to grow out of his sore loser attitude.
The other groaned. “You don't understand for a second I thought I was getting pranked, but it was a different 86.”
Ryosuke was trying not to smirk, what a predicament this was for his brother.
“Are you absolutely sure? Maybe you were having an odd waking dream ?” He probed a little bit more. They were not kids anymore, but since Keisuke had returned to the house and their relationship improved he found himself falling back into old habits left over from their childhood. It was an urge brought on by their lost teens years when the parents had been breathing down his own neck, and Keisuke had drifted so far away for him to have any kind of pleasant interaction when they did see each other. Only occasionally he teased though, when the opportunity was prime, like this was.
“Yes I'm sure! It had flip up headlights and some goddamn shop logo on the door, and also Gunma plates! Can you stop looking at me like that.” That punched out a laugh from himself. Keisuke looked about ready to gut him.
“Waturu is not going to be happy to find out you got passed by a different 86.” He commented.
Keisuke was very much done with sitting and letting him tease. Suddenly a pillow was being thrown at his face. “Shut up! God Aniki I'm already dreading telling him, he’s going to be so pissed.”
Ryosuke calmed himself unfazed by the outburst, pillow now in his lap as Keisuke shot up riled and fuming. “I'm heading back to that mountain tonight and hunting down the asshole who dares drive the same car as my soulmate and beats me.” Ryosuke wasn’t exactly sympathetic, he couldn’t understand the soulmate part of the equation but he did understand the feeling of being bested on the road suddenly. Well he could remember the feeling, nobody had gotten a pass on him in years now. No sudden late night ambushes, rowdy show off, or seasoned street racer had bested him in Gunma for at least 2 years now and he was quite proud of that fact. Proud as he was, it was getting harder. Ryosuke knew it couldn’t be like this forever. He looked out at the scene and the cars coming out and for a while now he could feel a shift in the air- his streak, it wouldn't last. With all his tireless nights in his FC and at his desk he knew with his driving there was a ceiling looming very close above him and someday he would hit it. He was positive of it because the biggest threat to that ceiling was in front of him right now. For all his cold aloofness he knew Keisuke had the attitude to break it. If he could keep Keisuke focused and pointed on the right path that is.
“Keisuke, remember the race is on Saturday, if this ghost 86 is real you’ll need to save your energy.”
Keisuke deflated looking back at him with a defeated annoyed look. “Yeah I know, just ugh, I couldn’t believe it was an 86. I can't rest until I race this guy now.”
Keisuke looked peeved and tired, it was just past three pm now, he wondered exactly how much sleep the other got. Maybe he had given Keisuke too much work this past season.
Keisuke cracked his knuckles suddenly and stretched his way to the door. “Anyway bro I’m heading out, I need to find out whoever drives that damn 86. I get a feeling I’d be disappointed if I just leave it and hope it shows up Saturday.” Ryosuke's eyes shifted back to his laptop, the text box still empty and taunting him...
“Keisuke!” he called behind him before the other was gone. “Let me know if you manage to get this 86 to show up, Saturday might be worth turning up for.”
There was a pause.
“Woah really? Damn I gotta find this guy now.” Ryosuke raised an eyebrow confused at the tone, he looked back but Keisuke was already gone, the bedroom door left open. It didn’t bother him, he used to have it shut all the time to keep the blabber of his father’s business calls out. Now the only time he keeps it fully shut is when Keisuke plays his rock music. The comment made him wonder, he had been trying to pull back from the RedSuns hoping they would be more self-reliant, perhaps he was pulling too far.
He sighed leaning back in the office chair, it creaked loudly as he stretched it to its reclining angle, staring at the white smoothed ceiling now. The thudding and thumping of Keisuke downstairs could be heard over the stock silent house before the front door opened and shut, the force felt under his slippers. He was so busy these days he could hardly feel too bad about Keisuke's disgruntlement.
A ghost. That was like many people's soulmates. His brother was lucky so young and he found his ‘other half’. Even luckier that Waturu was into street racing, he guessed it was some kind of soulmate fate.
Ryosuke tossed the pillow in his lap back on his bed, the blank line of code laughing at him, it would be something soon but when exactly he wasn’t sure yet. Keisuke had thrown him off.
Soulmates were probably the strangest aspect of humankind out there. The fact simple minds could hook up during the period of rem sleep was still a scientific mystery to this day. A soulmate, another human that syncs perfectly with your brain on some neuron level, or that was the most common running theory.
It had something to do with brainwaves and the endless capabilities of the unconscious mind from what Ryosuke cared to know about it. Not everyone had one though, some were born with too unique of a brain and would roam their dreams alone.
For many years he had thought he would have no one to share his dreams with, most people start sharing dreams with their soulmate when puberty hits. He went through all of high school with no shared dream, and by the time he started college and had met her he wasn’t too bothered by his no show soulmate.
He did find it ironic he’d have his first shared dream a week after her death.
That was three years ago now.
Things had started out very shaky. It was just their first dream together, but he remembers it vividly, a high school he couldn’t recognize tipping him off; he had been dragged over to his soulmate's head. The Japanese textbooks he caught sight of had brought him a modest amount of joy, it meant they were at the very least in the same country which made it drastically easier for both of them in the long run. Within the empty classroom across from him the other had been just a mass of smoke, not even an outline of a human, and Ryosuke was sure he was in a similar shape from the others perspective. The scenery had shifted from classroom, to hallway, to stairway, to rooftop. It had been very jarring like the world around him was dragging him along, pulled by his foggy soulmate. It hadn't been very long by the time his eye had settled on the rooftop he was gone. When Ryosuke had awoken that morning he had wondered if the other had been trying to show him the view. It was unfortunate that dream logic had dedicated it to be pitch-black beyond the school fencing.
It is not all sunshine and hearts when you first get a shared dream at the beginning. Both brains can’t recognize each other. It takes time for a solid connection to happen; months, sometimes even years for two people to connect enough to even talk or see each other clearly.
He wasn’t interested in the theory of soulmates he had bigger issues to wonder about. One of the odd things about shared dreams was how oneself reflects themselves while dreaming. It was a reaction to someone's mental state, oblivious to the person dreaming but obvious to an outsider. The more stressed or unstable someone was, their figure would reflect that by being unclear, shadowed, erratic, smoky, ghost like it has been described in literature sometimes.
Almost two years ago was the last time he had been able to see his soulmate in some form of solid. The other had been reduced to a shadow, an ink stain against his backdrop during sleep.
They couldn’t talk, couldn’t connect, their shared dreams were sometimes nightmares filled with blood on the ground. What used to be his biggest insight to his soulmate life, the others dreams; he’d find himself in were now nightmares that didn’t affect him but froze his soulmate to their core, cutting him off from them.
He couldn’t do anything to help, useless once again. He still didn’t know who they were. It weighed on him like his debt with Kaori, it felt like he failed before he’d even been given a chance. Just within reach then ripped away.
Ryosuke sighed, clicking away from the text document and bringing up a map of Akina. There’s nothing to be done now, all he could do was wish for pleasant dreams and be thankful his soulmate was still alive, out there somewhere.
-
As the sky shifted from a beautiful vibrant blue to orange fire Keisuke stalked closer to the other side of Shibukawa. Mount Akina getting closer and closer it taunted him with all its secrets and hairpins left to conquer. August was a blessing and a curse for him especially with Aniki wanting him to practice more, it took forever for the sun to set and streets to clear. The price you pay for dry roads and warm nights. It wasn't the biggest downside for him though when his normal day was waking up at three, eating something, then heading out for whatever his FD needed or Ryosuke wanted him to do- maybe go visit Waturu if he was free, before hitting the mountains with the guys.
He had done some asking at a few different spots already about a fast 86 with no luck. After the 3rd crazed look from a convenience store cashier he was starting to feel out of his depth, asking around randomly about an old car was not turning out as well as he had thought, wasted gas for nothing.
He stopped right before Akina, he needed to fill back up.
As he pulled into the gas station he spotted a Silvia in an off-green color parked to the side; he had definitely seen a car like that around, but from where exactly he couldn’t place at the moment. His thoughts were off thinking about where he could look next, he pulled up to the gas pump.
“I take it you’re an enthusiast?” A staff worker piped up as he moved by his window and that sounded familiar as well. Looking up at the kid, the other's face was recognizable, one of the SpeedStar guys he’d seen just last night. His eyes shifted to the Silvia again.
“Talk about a small world.” He thumbed the steering wheel, his mind turning, perhaps he already was in the right place.
-
“Man what an asshole.”
Iketani whipped his oil stained hands down on one of his rags, a blue and red plaid one. A favorite of his collection because it matched his uniform, tragically it was reaching the end of its usefulness for the day with keeping his hands clean.
The station was cleared for now so he headed his way back over to the side of the building waiting as Itsuki, his coworker, made it back from the curb side.
“I can’t believe what a jerk that Takahashi guy is, ugh it makes me so pissed.” The younger kid sided, sulking his way beside him.
“Tell me about it, I had no idea what he was going on about, an 86? On Akina? Iv never seen one and I would know.” From the moment he’d gotten his first car and driven up Akina he'd never encountered anyone in the scene with an old 86. That younger Takahashi had really came around sprouting nonsense just to throw them off? ‘An 86 passing an RX-7? No way in hell that's possible!’
Itsuki beside him was going on about something he really wasn’t paying attention to. The 86 was decent as a beginner car but it was just too slow, now he was seriously starting to consider the younger Takahashi off his suspension.
“What's this about an 86 you boys talking about?”
His boss's voice pierced through his heated thoughts and cut off whatever Itsuki was about to say, he could hear the other choke on it.
“Oh boss! It was nothing, one of those RedSuns guys that challenged us just came around.” He trailed off hoping to not have to explain the pickle he was in with the SpeedStars.
“No no! Go on, what was this about some 86?” Yuichi's side, eyes gleaming. It took Iketani by surprise, his bosses eyes shined with glee like their information was some prize winning horse up to start.
Was there something he didn't know? He knew the boss used to be into street racing, but he usually kept most of his knowledge to himself to keep up the whole mystical nostalgia of the 80s the old man laminated about. Iketani has never seen him light up like this though. Itsuki the little chatterbox was off again.
“Well that Keisuke Takahashi guy from the RedSuns just came by and he mentioned something about being passed by an 86 on Akina. The 86 is an amazing car, but the RX-7s has way more horsepower, it doesn't make sense.” Itsuki explained beside him and despite the hyper energy of the others his car knowledge was quite impressive.
“Yeah I was just thinking, at how absurd that is, he had to of been dreaming. Either that jerk’s FDs busted or he’s losing it.” Iketani adjusted his cap slightly, irritated because his boss's smile just kept getting bigger. The older man drew a long breath of smoke and put a hand on his chin.
“Passed by an 86, I didn’t know that boy had it in him.” The older man muttered to himself and he seemed almost proud.
Oh he had to know.
“Okay boss what's going on, you know something?” He had thought he knew all the local guys on Akina, but apparently not. The old man just twiddled his light in a way that made Iketani concerned for just a second, looking far too smug as they both waited in suspense. He heard Itsuki gulp beside him.
“Yeah, you could say I do. If that punk side he got passed by an 86 I’d believe it. The best street racer to ever grace Akina pass drove an 86 that delivers tofu.”
“What?!”
Yuichi takes a drag of his smoke before continuing.
-
He couldn’t believe his boss, the old guy was telling the truth. There really was an 86 out there delivering tofu. He knew because he was looking at it. A Panda Trueno sitting in the parking spot of a ‘Fujiwara Tofu Shop’ looking completely innocent and docile.
He stopped just to give it a solid look over before heading into the tofu shop. The car slept in the morning sun, the light just peaking over the buildings and shining off of her hood, Iketani rounded the car. Closer now the only thing that could give away the sleeping beast was the left side of the front was scuffled, black and white paint dragged and mixed, side reflector cracked, torn away from her metal. Other than the scuff she looked well used if not a little dirty.
Apparently he wouldn’t find this legendary racer the boss had gone on and on about inside, but his son.
This was basically his only hope not to make the SpeedStars look like complete clowns on Saturday, he had to leave with something today.
Feeling fired up enough he broke from his stance and walked up to the store. The door jiggled as he opened it and he was greeted with the smell of oil and soybeans, it instantly coated the back of his throat. This place definitely sold tofu.
“Welcome.” A voice from farther back in the store chimed, the door swung shut behind him.
It was all tofu, hard, soft, silk, deep fried, seasoned, even dessert tofu. The storefront was stocked with every kind of product tofu could be, and the prices were good! Cheaper than the tofu he’d buy at the grocery store, he wasn’t the biggest tofu eater but all of it was making him a bit hungry, he should have had a bigger breakfast.
He steeled his gut, he had to get his head in the game he was here for help not brunch!
The figure in the back finally emerged to the counter and Iketani straightened out.
“What can I get you?” The kid at the counter side.
“Um this is the Tofu Shop right?” He side dumbfounded at the other, this guy looked too young and nothing like a racer!
“Yes? Did our sign fall off?” The other muttered the last part in confusion.
“Ah! No, I just wanted to make sure I was in the right place!” He side, back straight feeling slightly on edge. It couldn’t be, this kid was younger than him!
“Well this is the tofu shop welcome.” The other repeated looking more uncomfortable by the second as he stared at him with tired eyes. Iketani did not in fact feel very welcomed now.
“I was just wondering. Do you happen to deliver tofu up Akina to the hotels by the lake?” He had to make sure he was really here in the right place. The other man tensed up with the question and took a more defensive stance, eyes narrowing.
“I do. Why are you asking?” Short and curt, there was a hint of warning in his tone, but the question was confirmation, it was like heaven to his ears. This was the guy, perhaps there was hope for the SpeedStars yet.
“Please! I need your help with a race this Saturday.” He put his hands together and bowed pleading, this was for the guys!
“Uh?”
The silence in the air felt like cotton in his throat, was he not being clear enough?
“Please!” He pleaded again, the other still looked dumbfounded.
“A race? I'm sorry I have no idea what you mean?” The words left the other's mouth like molasses, looking tired and confused. Iketani could feel his chance slipping away, was this guy just dense?
“Y-you do the deliveries right!?” It feels like he’s asked this to many times now but the other guy is still looking at him like he has grown an extra head.
“Yes I do?” He didn't look like someone to bullshit or feign ignorance, now Iketani was getting confused.
“I'm in desperate need of help, I have this big street race on Saturday night and I need to know how you drive. Any wisdom or knowledge you have would be a god send. I can't let these jerks trample all over Akina!”
The other was speechless at his outburst, Iketani winced realizing he might have over done it.
“Please, I was told your old man was some legendary racer years ago.”
“My old man?”
-
As the door swings shut Takumi is left with a confusing mess of emotions. He couldn’t understand why someone would want him to race or even thought he could in the first place. Wasn’t street racing something delinquents did?
‘At least he bought something,’ he thought as he gathered the change into the cash register. With the man's leave the fan unit above his head buzzed and the white noise was annoyingly noticeable now. Shutting the register he wandered back into the kitchen to the sink where a dirty metal tofu vat had been left when the front chimed. Sighing he grabbed the cold cloth and started scrubbing the inside, everything had to be cleaned thoroughly to prevent mold.
The guy had mentioned his dad had been the best street racer around. Takumi rinses the vat, water scalding. It was clean and shiny now ready for another batch of soybeans. Lifting it up his hands stung from the heat of the metal and the water. He hardly noticed, used to the hot water, his hands scared and calloused from cleaning and preparing tofu these last two years. He knew his dad loved that car more than he ever let on but racing? This was news to him.
He felt the knot in his gut grow, setting the metal vat back down on the stove harder than necessary, its clang of pain rang out loud. He was irritated about the things he didn’t know about his father.
_
The days passed and next thing he knew that guy that had begged him to be in some kind of race on Saturday showed up again. But this time he was far worse than wear.
“Please don’t hurt yourself.” He sided as the other man shook in pain from bowing at him begging again, this time Takumi was still confused.
His chest hurt, the sight of the other man was distressing, reminding him how fast everything could change. He just wanted to make tofu and keep the shop just as his father had left it, its tiles scrubbed clean, wood polished, TV clean and lonely. This was becoming a true pain to deal with yet he didn't want to upset the other. All this trouble because he pushed the speed limit to get home faster after his 4am deliveries, it felt unfair, he’d rather get charged a speeding ticket.
“Fujiwara. I can’t even race now to hold up the SpeedStars honor, I beg of you to please race for us tomorrow.” The other stared him down, eyes on fire that burned with desperation, desperate enough to somehow get in an accident. He almost couldn’t believe how serious this guy was taking street racing, he just didn’t get it.
“Listen, I don't understand why it has to be me. I'm not the only one that can drive a car fast. I'm sorry but I just don't have time or the gas for it.” The sight of the other was sore and it definitely spiked his nerves. The other gritted his teeth and Takumi's guilt and confusion grew.
“I know you can do it because you already did in the past. The guy you would be racing is a yellow RX-7 you already beat somehow in a 86. And the boss said, you know that road like the back of your hand.”
“Yellow car?” Takumi suddenly remembered. Sunday morning, that ugly thing had been on Akina, the color of the car hurting his eyes so he had pulled ahead of it without a thought. He didn’t normally run into anyone else on his deliveries, but the yellow car had stuck out so much he had noted it as weird.
Takumi blinked, this Iketani guy was still talking and waving around his one good hand now.
“I-if it's something about gas, I’ll pay you a full tank for your trouble and even a discount on top of it, I can make it worth your time.”
Now that made Takumi freeze, gas was one of the most expensive things it took to run the tofu business. He could feel a headache brewing, he hated being pushed to do something but free gas would be very nice, and a discount. ‘Shit I could really save a lot of money.’
“How much of a discount?” He asked and the other man all but gasped like a fish.
“A-at most a %30 for at least a month!”
“And a full tank on top of it?”
“Yes and a full tank! I work at a gas station, I can make it happen. You won't regret this!”
“And you just want me to race this guy right?”
“Yes!” The scruffy street racer looked about ready to cry.
Takumi rubbed at his neck. Was he really going to do this for some gas, he thought back to his last gasoline bill and cringed. His stingy father would kill him if he passed on something like this. Yes, yes he is.
“Okay fine I’ll do this race of yours, but only for the full tank and discount.” Takumi huffed.
-
That night Takumi’s mind wandered. Shapes of trees and underbrush passed him in slow motion like he was riding in a car. Lights flashed by here and there, visible but only presents for an instant. Lights shone and trees danced but Takumi felt like he was passing through water, anchored to a chair unnaturally.
Oh, he was dreaming.
Slowly and with great effort he turned to look to see who was driving, for some reason he was expecting his father but no, a ghostly outline of a person was driving the car, his soulmate. Takumi was surprised, in the past his soulmate had flickered from an unsteady smog to steam, this time the other’s silhouette was like foggy glass. A solid shape sat in the driver's seat but the reflecting lights and darkness made it hard to distinguish the edges.
It had been some time since his last connected dream with the other, no wonder he felt like lead. Their dreams together were so difficult, for Takumi he wondered what was even the point of soulmates or these dreams. Would the other even want to know who he is, his life was boring and normal. There was nothing going on in his life. Nothing but musky soybeans and tofu, the scent even in his sleep lingered on him now, it couldn’t be helped. At this point in his life Takumi struggled to see how any kind of person would be happy with him as a soulmate. He was just a plain guy working a boring job.
The car shifted and Takumi watched the transparent figure gear shift and turn feeling two seconds behind every movement and feeling. Takumi could feel the darkness pull at him, beckoning him away but he tried to stay even if his body felt like a rock stuck under a ton of water pressure. Though he felt like these dreams were useless it didn’t squish the innate curiosity that he had deep down about his soulmate.
Light was suddenly filling up the car and looking outside the trees had stopped swaying beyond the window, they had stopped. The trees and road beyond the glass were solid now, textured almost like they had been colored in with a pencil.
His soulmate was facing him, seemingly just noticing he was here, the other waved in jerky movements. Like a video game struggling to display what was happening in front of him. He tried squinting his eyes, if he could move an arm he would rub at his them. Takumi wanted to return the wave but he had to strain just to move his head to look at the other. He heard the others voices, his soulmate was trying to talk with him but it was too muffled like a voice from two rooms over. Three years and it seemed they just couldn’t get a solid connection.
Takumi’s chest ached, he wasn’t sure if it was from the pressure or himself. He couldn’t help but feel like a piece of shit, they couldn’t even talk yet. Their rocky connection did not board well in cliché soulmate terms and Takumi wondered if all the superstition around late connected soulmates were true, it was seen as unlucky, a soulmate pair that would fall apart. He blinked and it felt like hours for his eyes to open again, his soulmate was still looking at him, face completely blanked out, but he knew the other was looking at him.
The darkness grabbed at him pulling him under suddenly, drifting off into another dream before he could say a word.
Across town Ryosuke started awake. Face down against the hard wood desk. He grounded as he strengthened out in his chair neck aching from the angle he fell asleep in. Rubbing at his cheek his eyes shifted towards his left. He had been dreaming of driving up Akigi for some sort of race and was gifted with company suddenly. A smoky black figure taking space up beside him, he had been pleasantly surprised. Stopping the car to get a good look but just as he had greeted the other the ghostly figure of his soulmate had evaporated. Fading off into the night.
-
Takumi paces. He walks out to the dark storefront and stands looking out at the street beyond the window pane. He turns back into the sitting room.
He walks with his slippers, not bothering to switch to his shoes. There was visibly no difference from the sitting mat and shop tile, the floor swept and washed hours ago.
The TV buzzes with the local news, the host going on about some flu outbreak in Tokyo, Takumi doesn't pay any attention to it. He can't rest, it's half past nine now and as the clock ticks down the time an anxious feeling was building up in his gut. The race would be soon, a race he had agreed to do. For a full tank of gas no less. Its prospect so tempting yet anxiety inducing. His hands ached with the day's hard work and he rubbed their scared surface down as he turned around again to walk back out to the dark storefront. Light from the home side of the tofu shop shined behind him, he watched as his shadow casted over the tiles, his knuckles ached and his fingertips tingled.
Out here the TV was inaudible, its noise reduced to just a muffle and for a second, turned away, Takumi imagined his father sitting at the table, a long day's work settling over his slumped shoulders.
It was a Saturday night and that meant the old man would be most definitely nursing a sake bottle. Accompanied by some kind of greasy meat, and if he poked at the old man would offer a piece to him. Meat that used to sit in the freezer, only brought out when his father felt like drinking and smoking the night away from the TV.
Those weren't bad memories, his father was just lightly more annoying when drunk, he had fond memories of his father drunkenly laughing himself into a supper with whatever stupid drama was on TV. Or bitch back at the news anchors like he was engaged in some debate. His old man would look back just to see whatever face Takumi had on at the time.
He didn't mind loading up the tofu alone the next morning, his father worked so hard to keep the shop open and both of them fed. He’d load the tofu up in the morning alone with no complaints.
Before Saturdays were half days of school and if he was still going to high school he would have done the laundry when he got home before helping to clean the Fujiwara home side of the property. That is if his father was still here. Now he cleaned the house Tuesday mornings after the deliveries, the slowest day of the week. Well at least he tried to. It was getting harder to keep up the spaces that stayed empty now, the dust building up.
A car passed by outside reminding him of what exactly he should be doing.
Takumi turned back around the TV stood alone in the sitting room, the weather report now playing, burning electricity.
There was only him in the house and the space his father used to fill, that space felt massive and cold most nights.
He walked back across the store kitchen and on to the threshold of the ‘home’ part of his home . It didn’t feel like a home anymore, the house was missing a very big piece that made it what one might describe as a home to him. The wood and metal ached with his old man's absence, tiles ice cold and no amount of care he provided would warm them.
He stepped into the sitting room and it was the same as it was out in the store. Looking at the clock it was twenty to ten now.
The news on the TV switched over to stocks just as he bent down to pick up the remote, gas was up again. How lucky for him.
He clicked the box off as he flicked his slippers away and put on his shoes. His hand shook as he grabbed the keys and hurried out the door, the feeling in his gut wasn’t going anywhere it seemed.
He went through the motions of starting up the car, settling into her worn seat, the familiar rumble of the start up washing over him. It helped a bit, at the very least he wasn’t going out there completely alone, he had her. Spurred on by the knot in his throat he brought a hand up to run along the dash, dust sticking to his palm. He tried to take comfort but there was only so much the old car could bring for him, and he kept forgetting to clean her. It had been a few months since the inside had been cleaned. He wiped his hands off on his jeans, even here the dust built up. How could he have forgotten? The Trueno was just as much part of his family, she must also be feeling his father’s missing presence. He started out to mount Akina.
Not feeling quite himself he didn’t even notice the paper cup filled with water sitting in the holder until it swished as he slowed at a light. The water rolled around before settling, he didn’t do much with the car, but do the deliveries in the mornings. Most of the time he completely forgot about it and let it sit for days. Noticing it now he supposed it wasn’t exactly needed tonight, he didn’t have any tofu in the back. The light turned green, he decided to just leave it.
As he got to the base of Akina pass he noticed the public lot was filled with cars for this time of the night and as he drove up he noticed groups of people all over the side of the roads.
There was a strange feeling in the air as he went higher. Faces flashed by, illuminated for a second with the headlights before being obstructed by the darkness. He’d never seen so many people before crowding around the roads, and it did not help him. Was he missing something, or were all these people really out here to watch a street race?
Getting closer to the top there were even more people. It was shocking for Takumi. Almost at every turn people were hanging in groups, talking, smoking, like it was a night out. Accroaching on the next parking lot he dove up to what he assumed must be the starting point swamped with groupies and cars, the area was filled like some kind of concert. And in front of him waiting on what seemed to be a stage was that weird yellow car Iketani had mentioned.
He felt his chest tighten painfully and blood start pumping behind his eyelids and into his head.
‘I'm just here to drive fast, this is for the free gas, I won't have to worry about the bills next month if I can do this.’
His hand jumped off the grip and threw his hair as he turned the car around. It did nothing to calm his pounding heart. ‘No way in hell I'm getting out.’ He thought, eyeing the people crowded around the guardrails looking over at his car. What was this a car dealership?
He lined the bumper up as a guy in a red shirt stood in front motioning, and then sat.
He sat and waited and everyone just stared.
This was the worst idea ever. Actually, no money saved on gas was worth this, he wanted to crawl out of his skin.
He looked over to his opponent in yellow whose car idled with intent. He could vaguely make out a scowl from a guy with blonde hair through the dark and glass. How great the guy was pissed. He wasn’t too surprised though, for some reason he expected it.
His eyes then shifted to the competition's crowd. He felt like something was pulling him. Then suddenly Iketani was pressed up against his window making him jump in his seat.
-
Ryosuke fiddled with the lighter in his pockets, it's cold metal now warm from his palm. He squeezed it firmly, its rectangular box shape pressed against his skin before flipping it over a finger joint and then another before grasping it again. He was agitated and he was trying not to show it. The 86 had given them both quite a situation, from having Keisuke bitch about it all week to having the thing show up at the last second, it was already making an impression.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the 86. Since the moment the little car rolled up here there was something in his head nagging him, it was the same feeling when he had first driven up Akina, like it was familiar. He had questioned Keisuke last week, asking if Akina reminded him of Akagi. It had just been a feeling but he wasn’t sure why, very odd for himself. The roads shared minor resemblance, the biggest was ending in a short handful of hairpins, but it basically ended from there Akagi was much steeper and the scenery was very different. It had stumped him and Keisuke had only scratched his head, not sure what he was getting at.
Ryosuke hadn’t been sure at the time putting it to the back of his mind, but now he was struck with unease. Keisuke was about to embark on a race far more important than he or anyone had anticipated. Akina’s ghost, watching the car turn around like it weighed nothing, suddenly he can see why Keisuke had called it that.
Ryosuke wasn’t one to really believe cars had ‘auras’ like he had heard other racers describe them but this 86 had something, an aura? Perhaps. He was hesitant to describe the car like that, he wasn't to keen in believing superstition. But he couldn’t explain this, his eyes were drawn to it, he had to watch that 86. The urge burning into the pit of his stomach like hellfire.
“Come on, can we get this race started?” Keisuke shouted from his door before slamming it close behind him as the SpeedStars leader and the 86 driver talked, no introductions it seemed. This is odd, something he wouldn’t peg the SpeedStars in doing as some kind of tactic to trip them up. It was quite rude but Keisuke was too fired up to really care at this point. Iketani Koichiro looked worse for wear, the whole other side of the lot had seemed anxious all evening, scared if their gold goose would even show. This was all very odd, it looked like whoever was in the 86 didn’t want to come out, the 86 was in a hurry it seemed…
His feet started moving before he even knew what exactly he wanted to do. Swinging a leg over the guardrail just as Fumihero got into position. His good friend without a beat paused at the sound of his shoes hitting asphalt, the other man turned to him with a confused look. He could hear the chatter of the other RedSuns behind him, their concerns were far away from him right now. They were already running quite late so he spared any words for his old friend for later and beelined for Keisuke’s window.
In the few short steps to the FD and as he leaned down to stick his head into Keisuke’s car he knew what he wanted.
-
“I am not getting out of this car Iketani-san.” His grip tightened around the steering wheel, nerves rattling around his bones making his already sore hand trembled.
“Okay, okay, sorry man I should be grateful you even showed up. You don't have to get out, we made a deal.” Takumi felt the tension in his shoulders relax and chest lightened. He looked back up at the older man threw the windshield.
“Come on, can we get this race started!” The guy he would be racing barked from his spot haft out of the car and Takumi flinched at the heat in the words. It was nothing to him yet his brain had been rattled tonight, something on Akina was making him uncomfortable and he didn't know what.
“Yeah we’re ready!” Iketani finally barked back and the bleached blonde hot head tsked and got into the car, door slammed shut. The yellow sports car radiated a powerful energy now, like crackling lightning waiting to strike, Takumi shivered. The other turned back to him. “I had a feeling this would happen, here.”
Iketani dug around his pocket for a second bringing out a slip of crinkled paper and passed it through the window. Confused, Takumi grabbed it. There was an address on it. “This is the gas station I work at, come by whenever you want, I should be there.”
“Thank you.” He recognized the road name before wedging the paper under the cup holder, he eyed the paper cup for just a second.
“No thank you Fujiwara, you’re really saving our asses out here.” With that the other backed off the car and retreated behind the guardrail.
He shifted in his seat feeling slightly at ease now, all he had to do was drive home.
Takumi waited watching the man with a radio he assumed would be giving the signal. He raised his hand suddenly and Takumi reached for the break. He waited, but then the guy lowered his arm looking confused at the opposite side of the road.
A man had jumped over the divide and was now talking to the blond he was about to race. Takumi huffed, the race was put on hold again.
‘This is what I get for being late.’ He thought slightly annoyed now but he supposed he had no right to complain.
He couldn’t see who the blonde was talking to, the other was almost leaned haft across the front talking in hash whispers he couldn’t hear. Takumi wondered what was so important when the guy turned away, making a hasty retreat back behind the guardrail. Takumi missed his face, but looking at the others retreating back he felt nervous. His eyes followed the other until the head of black hair disappeared behind the crowd. Why did it feel like he was getting himself into something much more than just racing. The night just kept getting weirder and weirder.
“4, 3!-“
Takumi whipped around feeling his heart in his throat, flipping up the break and getting ready. He had totally spaced out.
“1, GO!”
He gunned it as fast as the car could start, but the yellow car took off much faster. His hands moved rapidly upshifting and the other car just kept forward, faster. By the end of the lot the yellow car was ahead taunting with its fancy back lights and overgrown wing.