Initial D fic (trust me, I'm just as surprised as you are)
I'm midway through the Fourth Stage, which means I've digested the equivalent of 60+ episodes in the past week. I never downloaded past episode 7, though, so if anyone could point me to the rest of Fourth Stage, that would be ace. :( I... offer more fic? I'm toying with doing a 20 themes for Initial D; a few are already written (mostly short drabblets), and my love for this series blows even me away.
Merging in the Fast Lane
During a lull when Takumi still worked at the gas station, Iketani had asked him, "Weren't you ever scared racing down Akina in the mornings when you didn't even have your license?"
Takumi stopped sweeping long enough to answer, "Not really. After I got used to the car and the mountain, speed never bothered me too much. I just wanted to get home as fast as possible."
"You're lucky that you never met any bad drivers on Akina all those years. You can have confidence in your own ability, but you can't control reckless driving. It would have ended disastrously," Iketani told him.
Takumi didn't reply at the time, but looking back on the conversation, he thinks: yes, it is fortunate that he never met a bad driver. He met Ryousuke Takahashi instead.
*
It is now nearly six months since the conclusion of Project D, and Takumi and Keisuke have both signed onto (naturally two different) professional racing teams. Takumi finds a single apartment in Tokyo, and he feels suffocated when he drives the 86 on the streets; the thick mass of pedestrians crowding the sidewalks every day appear more menacing than any of the guardrails or gutters on the mountain passes, and the car's headlights are useless against the hazy fog on polluted mornings.
He plans to drive home for the weekend; Tokyo never shuts down, and he needs a break from the glittering lights and muffled honking that manage to seep into his apartment's thin walls no matter how tightly he locks the door and windows. His mind clears immediately once he routes onto the highway, and he lets his shoulders relax into the bucket seat, his grip loosening on the wheel. It's not a far trip, and Takumi lets his driving run on autopilot as soon as he heads west back to Gunma; to his surprise, only after he exits the highway does he realize that he's not in Akina but in Akagi, and the 86 is already turning onto a familiar street that he's frequented before.
The driveway leading up to the Takahashi residence is framed with manicured bushes and arranged pockets of demurely colored flowers, and Takumi hesitates at the crosswalk. He flicks open his cell phone (new; his manager insisted) and thumbs over the number keys before snapping it shut. There's no use calling now if he's already at the door.
He rings the doorbell and then steps backward, his fists curling awkwardly by his sides. There's a moment's pause, and he's already counting the steps back to his car when the door swings open, and he lifts his eyes to meet Ryousuke's.
"I hope I'm not interrupting something," Takumi can feel a flush already crawling up the base of his neck. "I was passing by, and I found myself here."
"Come in," Ryousuke steps aside, the initial surprise when he opened the door already gone from his expression. "No one else is home."
Takumi toes off his shoes at the entrance, and his entire body tenses when Ryousuke places a feather-light hand at the small of Takumi's back and guides him toward the stairs. The house is meticulously clean but nothing compared to Ryousuke's room: the desk is flooded with papers, each stack placed strategically within reach of his arms. Takumi sits down on the bed, and holds his head very still when Ryousuke bends down to graze his left temple with a butterfly kiss before sitting down next to him.
"You haven't visited in several weeks. Have you gotten used to the circuit yet?" his voice is warm and easy, so unlike when they were in Project D, and Takumi subconsciously leans toward him. He had only been able to come back to Akagi a few times since he left for Tokyo, and Takumi had forgotten how just the sound of Ryousuke's voice could smooth away any of his fears and doubts.
"It took me until just last month to drive a car other than the 86 naturally, and now my manager wants to up my horsepower," Takumi can't hide the displeasure that passes across his face.
"That's right, you've never driven a high powered car before, have you?" Ryousuke nods. Takumi shakes his head sheepishly.
"I come back every couple of weekends just to drive a few loops around Akina. It's hard learning new technique in a new car, and Tokyo is so foreign. Driving on Akina is the only time when I can really try to understand all the information my manager gives me," Takumi admits. "But everyone on my team is very kind and understanding." He hesitates, and then continues, "They all know who you are, from your article. It's cited a lot even in the professional circuits."
Ryousuke leans back and allows a self-indulgent smile. After Project D finished and the data completed, he had perfected his theory for the fastest driving technique and sent it into a popular racing magazine, the study and experiments as accurate and methodical as a surgical report for a hospital. He packed away his mountains of engine analysis and recording programs soon after; he meant for Project D to become a legend. When it did, as he knew it would, he didn't see the logic in continuing with street racing.
"Street racing technique can't be fully absorbed into a closed track, of course," he acknowledges, "but the skills achieved are universal to driving."
"A lot of magazines are writing follow-up stories with more tests and different scenarios," Takumi tells him. "Most of them are useless and repetitive. Yours is comprehensive enough." He blushes suddenly; he didn't mean to praise so much.
Ryousuke lets out an amused laugh. "I'll consider it as flattery." He brushes the back of his fingers across Takumi's forehead absentmindedly. "You should probably get a haircut soon. Eyesight is important in concentrating on the road."
Takumi's blush deepens, and he stutters out quickly, "Anyway, I've been reading a lot of car magazines. Toyota is coming out with a new anti-lock braking system. It's supposed to help minimize counter steering."
He slowly lets out a breath as Ryousuke leans back on his hands in interest and says thoughtfully, "Yes, I remember reading about that."
"I think Mazda might switch over to it, too, or at least make a system adaptable for the FC series," Takumi tells him.
Ryousuke gives him a sideways glance and says, voice still even and casual, "I'm thinking about replacing the FC."
"What?" Takumi momentarily forgets his discomfort and looks at Ryousuke in surprise.
"I don't have time to take it for spins around Akagi, and it's a little flashy for driving to the clinic," Ryousuke tells him, the corners of his mouth sloping upwards in a rueful smile.
"But--," Takumi starts to say and pauses at a loss of words. He looks down at his hands; his fingers flutter in his lap.
"I'm glad you're learning more about mechanics and how cars work," Ryousuke changes the subject. "I've never relied on instincts alone, so I found it unbelievable that you calculated and comprehended strategy only after a race had already started. I thought at first that you were the same as Keisuke, but for all of his natural instinct, even Keisuke has always had me, and you only had your 86."
Takumi knows that is a high compliment from Ryousuke, and when Ryousuke leans forward and touches their lips together, a hand traveling to settle easily along Takumi's hip, his mind flashes back to when he first started racing and then that year of Project D, winning against one opponent after another, never knowing when he would reach his limit, and trusting in Ryousuke's words first and worrying about losing later. He wants to reply, No, you got it wrong - I've had more than my 86 for a long time now.
Merging in the Fast Lane
During a lull when Takumi still worked at the gas station, Iketani had asked him, "Weren't you ever scared racing down Akina in the mornings when you didn't even have your license?"
Takumi stopped sweeping long enough to answer, "Not really. After I got used to the car and the mountain, speed never bothered me too much. I just wanted to get home as fast as possible."
"You're lucky that you never met any bad drivers on Akina all those years. You can have confidence in your own ability, but you can't control reckless driving. It would have ended disastrously," Iketani told him.
Takumi didn't reply at the time, but looking back on the conversation, he thinks: yes, it is fortunate that he never met a bad driver. He met Ryousuke Takahashi instead.
*
It is now nearly six months since the conclusion of Project D, and Takumi and Keisuke have both signed onto (naturally two different) professional racing teams. Takumi finds a single apartment in Tokyo, and he feels suffocated when he drives the 86 on the streets; the thick mass of pedestrians crowding the sidewalks every day appear more menacing than any of the guardrails or gutters on the mountain passes, and the car's headlights are useless against the hazy fog on polluted mornings.
He plans to drive home for the weekend; Tokyo never shuts down, and he needs a break from the glittering lights and muffled honking that manage to seep into his apartment's thin walls no matter how tightly he locks the door and windows. His mind clears immediately once he routes onto the highway, and he lets his shoulders relax into the bucket seat, his grip loosening on the wheel. It's not a far trip, and Takumi lets his driving run on autopilot as soon as he heads west back to Gunma; to his surprise, only after he exits the highway does he realize that he's not in Akina but in Akagi, and the 86 is already turning onto a familiar street that he's frequented before.
The driveway leading up to the Takahashi residence is framed with manicured bushes and arranged pockets of demurely colored flowers, and Takumi hesitates at the crosswalk. He flicks open his cell phone (new; his manager insisted) and thumbs over the number keys before snapping it shut. There's no use calling now if he's already at the door.
He rings the doorbell and then steps backward, his fists curling awkwardly by his sides. There's a moment's pause, and he's already counting the steps back to his car when the door swings open, and he lifts his eyes to meet Ryousuke's.
"I hope I'm not interrupting something," Takumi can feel a flush already crawling up the base of his neck. "I was passing by, and I found myself here."
"Come in," Ryousuke steps aside, the initial surprise when he opened the door already gone from his expression. "No one else is home."
Takumi toes off his shoes at the entrance, and his entire body tenses when Ryousuke places a feather-light hand at the small of Takumi's back and guides him toward the stairs. The house is meticulously clean but nothing compared to Ryousuke's room: the desk is flooded with papers, each stack placed strategically within reach of his arms. Takumi sits down on the bed, and holds his head very still when Ryousuke bends down to graze his left temple with a butterfly kiss before sitting down next to him.
"You haven't visited in several weeks. Have you gotten used to the circuit yet?" his voice is warm and easy, so unlike when they were in Project D, and Takumi subconsciously leans toward him. He had only been able to come back to Akagi a few times since he left for Tokyo, and Takumi had forgotten how just the sound of Ryousuke's voice could smooth away any of his fears and doubts.
"It took me until just last month to drive a car other than the 86 naturally, and now my manager wants to up my horsepower," Takumi can't hide the displeasure that passes across his face.
"That's right, you've never driven a high powered car before, have you?" Ryousuke nods. Takumi shakes his head sheepishly.
"I come back every couple of weekends just to drive a few loops around Akina. It's hard learning new technique in a new car, and Tokyo is so foreign. Driving on Akina is the only time when I can really try to understand all the information my manager gives me," Takumi admits. "But everyone on my team is very kind and understanding." He hesitates, and then continues, "They all know who you are, from your article. It's cited a lot even in the professional circuits."
Ryousuke leans back and allows a self-indulgent smile. After Project D finished and the data completed, he had perfected his theory for the fastest driving technique and sent it into a popular racing magazine, the study and experiments as accurate and methodical as a surgical report for a hospital. He packed away his mountains of engine analysis and recording programs soon after; he meant for Project D to become a legend. When it did, as he knew it would, he didn't see the logic in continuing with street racing.
"Street racing technique can't be fully absorbed into a closed track, of course," he acknowledges, "but the skills achieved are universal to driving."
"A lot of magazines are writing follow-up stories with more tests and different scenarios," Takumi tells him. "Most of them are useless and repetitive. Yours is comprehensive enough." He blushes suddenly; he didn't mean to praise so much.
Ryousuke lets out an amused laugh. "I'll consider it as flattery." He brushes the back of his fingers across Takumi's forehead absentmindedly. "You should probably get a haircut soon. Eyesight is important in concentrating on the road."
Takumi's blush deepens, and he stutters out quickly, "Anyway, I've been reading a lot of car magazines. Toyota is coming out with a new anti-lock braking system. It's supposed to help minimize counter steering."
He slowly lets out a breath as Ryousuke leans back on his hands in interest and says thoughtfully, "Yes, I remember reading about that."
"I think Mazda might switch over to it, too, or at least make a system adaptable for the FC series," Takumi tells him.
Ryousuke gives him a sideways glance and says, voice still even and casual, "I'm thinking about replacing the FC."
"What?" Takumi momentarily forgets his discomfort and looks at Ryousuke in surprise.
"I don't have time to take it for spins around Akagi, and it's a little flashy for driving to the clinic," Ryousuke tells him, the corners of his mouth sloping upwards in a rueful smile.
"But--," Takumi starts to say and pauses at a loss of words. He looks down at his hands; his fingers flutter in his lap.
"I'm glad you're learning more about mechanics and how cars work," Ryousuke changes the subject. "I've never relied on instincts alone, so I found it unbelievable that you calculated and comprehended strategy only after a race had already started. I thought at first that you were the same as Keisuke, but for all of his natural instinct, even Keisuke has always had me, and you only had your 86."
Takumi knows that is a high compliment from Ryousuke, and when Ryousuke leans forward and touches their lips together, a hand traveling to settle easily along Takumi's hip, his mind flashes back to when he first started racing and then that year of Project D, winning against one opponent after another, never knowing when he would reach his limit, and trusting in Ryousuke's words first and worrying about losing later. He wants to reply, No, you got it wrong - I've had more than my 86 for a long time now.