Initial D Fan Fiction ❯ Unlimited ❯ Wake me up before you go-go ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Initial D and the following characters belong to Shigeno Shuichi and many

more now that it's in America. YEAY! Someone stepped on my fan sub of the

gum tape death match (sniff). Now go support it, you horrible anime pirates!

Ryosuke wasn't mad.

He didn't care enough to be mad.

How could a Takahashi allow himself to get flustered over such a small thing?

So, he didn't chase after Takumi and demand to know just what it was that he had done to get the younger driver so damn pissed off last night. And why he was getting the 'glare of death' whenever he tried to so much as look in Takumi's direction? Even Keisuke seemed to be agreeing that Ryosuke had somehow offended Takumi…when Ryosuke didn't know what else he had done beside have a good night on the town, minus Takumi being sick on the front lawn, and had some damn good sex to follow it up. If only Keisuke hadn't walked in, everything had been going great.

And then the shit had hit the fan as Takumi exploded in his face when Ryosuke had only been trying to calm the man down. Of course, he hadn't listened and had defined rage for Ryosuke within the hour. His usually tidy and Spartan room looked like a hurricane had passed through and was followed by one of Keisuke's infamous keg parties. Of course, Ryosuke hadn't been about to mention that everything that was being thrown was his. He had decided to wait it out and was going to stick with his original plan, even now. It had been a good idea to hide Takumi's keys, because as the morning went on the other driver had only gotten angrier and angrier. He couldn't imagine the havoc Takumi would cause on the road, even with his own bedroom as a little display.

Besides, holding the keys kept Takumi nice and close until he could get a moment with the younger man to straight things out. Definitely somewhere that wasn't in front of some of the social morons on the team. Ryosuke swore that over half of them would be nowhere if they couldn't drive; so incompetent and tactless at the worst of times. Always at the worst of times. He still hadn't thought that they would be so bad, but eventually decided that breakfast had been a horrible idea once Reiji and Sora had sat down on either side of Takumi like a pair of vultures.

He still hadn't expected Takumi to finally just get up and walk away from the table, without a word or even another look. He didn't have to, to make his disgust clear. Ryosuke had been considering that it might have been his chance to catch up and settle the matter with Takumi; calculating the man's mood, the reaction among the other members of the team if he was to chase after one individual driver- until Keisuke had jumped up and followed after Takumi, effectively stealing Ryosuke's chance for now. So, he had lit up another cigarette and silently dared anyone to mention the fact that his little brother was following the man he'd fucked last night.

"So, Ryosuke, he's fair game now, right?" Sora asked, quite unexpected and obviously equipped with a set of brass balls for bring Fujiwara up again. Ryosuke hadn't even been concentrating on glaring at the driver before Sora swallowed and choked on the end of his sentence at the look on his face. Ryosuke wasn't in any mood to entertain these people's crudeness a moment longer. He didn't want to think about Fujiwara for a while either, at least not until he could sit down with some graph paper and try to map out exactly what had happened. Ryosuke couldn't come up with a scenario to fix his relationship with Takumi, not yet. But, he didn't have to put nearly that much effort into his other drivers, who were there only as runner-ups to the top three drivers of the Initial D team.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ryosuke snapped, far too irritated to even try and take some of the sting out of it. Hirofumi laughed on the other side of him, amused by this little battle of wills as Ryosuke frowned at Sora until the other man slumped down in his seat with a guilty look on his face. Feeling that the man had been properly reprimanded, Ryosuke crossed his arms and sucked on his cigarette with a little more gusto. Just when had his personal life become a part of dining conversation?

"Well, you two aren't getting along right now, right?" Reiji offered up an explanation for his friend, causing Ryosuke to snap his eyes open and glare at the other man. He was having a hard time remembering exactly why the two were on the team again. It had been a while since Ryosuke had gone scouting for any new driving talent, but he was starting to get very motivated. Idiots, the whole lot of them.

And just why hadn't Keisuke come back with Fujiwara yet? This was taking far longer than it should merely to retrieve the brunette before he could run off headfirst into any trouble. Could it be that Keisuke was having some sort of talk with Takumi? Could he be telling the Hachi-Roku driver about all the other one-night stands and 'I'll call you's Ryosuke had spat out in his jaunt around Japan to become the number one driving team. Legends weren't built on races alone…but, Ryosuke was through with easy fans and groupies that wanted to ride along with the White Comet. So, why was it that everything was falling apart when Ryosuke was actually trying to make something into a lasting relationship? He should have known better than to try with an idiot like Fujiwara.

"And we didn't know Takumi was into anything," Tanaka piped up at the very end of the table, too far away to choke. Ryosuke felt about ready to burst down the middle with rage. He was the goddamn leader of this team, and they were talking about the prodigy Ryosuke had dug out from Akina like they were the cast of the latest television drama! He wouldn't stand for it a second longer.

"None of you will do anything to Fujiwara," Ryosuke ordered coldly; didn't even have to yell to have everyone cowed and quiet for a moment. The three biggest offenders: Sora, Reiji, and Tanaka, all shared nervous glances as they looked back and forth between themselves and Ryosuke's stern expression. Ryosuke waited calmly, wondering just where the fuck the waitress was. He wanted to order breakfast, eat, and get the hell out of here.

"So, you are together?" Hirofumi asked softly at Ryosuke's side, the only sentence not filled with sarcasm Ryosuke had heard all day. Unfortunately, in the hush that had taken over the whole table, Hirofumi might have just yelled the question out loud. Ryosuke groaned; his mind racing as he tried to figure out the answer to that particularly loaded question. The answer would get back to Takumi long before he could, and would likely only make things worse. If only he could just stay silent; but that was probably the worst choice of all.

"You all want Fujiwara as well?" Ryosuke asked, buying himself a little time as the rest of the drivers chewed on that for a moment. Then, there were a few nods that went around the table, some more enthusiastic than others. For some reason, it made Ryosuke sick to his stomach. Why hadn't he noticed this before? Before it could have become one huge mess? Now he had not only screwed things up with the Hachi-Roku driver, but now he had competition as well. He couldn't see how things could get any worse.

"Let's race for him," Tanaka suggested. Ryosuke's mouth dropped open before he could stop it, the half-finished cigarette falling down out of his mouth and hitting the table. It smoldered, unnoticed as Ryosuke shot death at Tanaka with his eyes. They younger man was definitely off the team now, his few mistakes and blunders becoming one too many in Ryosuke's eyes.

"You cannot race for Fujiwara. He would never agree to it," Ryosuke ground out, surprising himself with his calmness as he reached down to retrieve the cigarette. I would never agree to it, Ryosuke thought silently to himself. The mere suggestion was ridiculous. Ryosuke stabbed the butt out into the ashtray in front of him, figuring that was the end of that, just like the cigarette.

"Then, how about we race to see who gets the chance to try dating Takumi. We can't all be going for him at once," Sora asked. Nobody was learning their lessons or watching the examples Ryosuke had so amply giving this morning. All the bruises and yelling he did just wouldn't solve this problem. It galled him that his power as the leader of the Red suns didn't mean a damn thing in this situation. Not when the majority was determined to get a fighting chance at Takumi.

"Name it," Ryosuke snapped back, more than confident that he would be able to beat all of these idiots with just one hand on the wheel. It was a good opportunity to properly discipline everyone and remind them just why he was the leader. It seemed like they hadn't been talking about the 'White Comet' as much now that Takumi had surfaced along with other drivers in different prefectures. Only one had managed to challenge him on the road with his driving so smooth and flawless it was like watching fine art be created. And off the streets, Takumi frustrated him beyond all belief with the mix of good looks, lack of personal grooming, and a wallflower personality that was growing all too old. Just why would anyone else see any sort of charm or almost childlike innocence in the driver's slow and dull attitude astounded Ryosuke. He wasn't even sure why he was getting worked up himself in the first place.

"Friday night, let's battle down Akina Mountain," Sora answered all too quickly, making Ryosuke think just how much thought had been put into this before they had actually said something? Akina, of all places to duel for dating rights to Takumi. Ryosuke would have shaken his head in amused detestation if he wasn't to so damn hard to look pissed in from of the rest of them.

"Ten o'clock. I assume that the whole team will be there?" Ryosuke growled, far too late to start fighting circumstance now. At least it would keep these lechers at bay for now. Again, those damn idiotic smiles and nods that made Ryosuke want to snap every single one of their necks. Wasn't the leader supposed to be kept in-the-know about these sorts of things going on with his drivers? Everyone was cruising around half-cocked and Ryosuke knew there had been a few relationships with benefits already among the crew; but Takumi was so stupid he'd been kept safe from such activity.

Or so Ryosuke thought. Last night had been a little too enlightening as Takumi did things and acted in a way that showed he was no stranger to sex. Ryosuke wasn't expecting to get jealous over thought that someone had been there before him, nor so heated over this race. Not that he wasn't going to win, but just the suggestion that the Hachi-Roku driver was so easily up for grabs made Ryosuke furious. He had spent weeks just trying to get Takumi to realize he was up to more than just overfriendly advice on his car engine. Ryosuke didn't do nice unless there was a damn good reason. Even Hirofumi had a thoughtful look on his face; a man whom Ryosuke had once considered the most sensible of the whole group.

"If you'll excuse me," Ryosuke asked, polite as ever, even though it set his teeth on edge right now to go through the manners. Nobody was even paying attention by that point, talking amongst themselves about tune-ups and mock races to be held before Friday. Like they could even stand a chance in hell against him. Ryosuke left the table without another word, pulling out his cell phone and barely managing to keep from crushing the electronic device in his hand. When he had gotten far enough away from the group to have a 'private' conversation, Ryosuke lit up another cigarette while he still felt a little light-headed from the last one and dialed Keisuke's cell.

* * *

Keisuke looked down at the screen of his cell phone, Ryosuke's number lighting up. He stole a quick look over at Takumi, who was staring straight ahead like he was looking into the depth of hell with a death-grip on the sides of the passenger seat. Shrugging at Takumi's current preoccupation with mumbling out what sounded like a prayer, Keisuke pressed the 'talk' button and tucked the cell between his ear and shoulder so he could have one hand free to shift.

"'ello? What would you like to order? Today's specials are-…" Keisuke started in a bad accent that even he wasn't sure of the origins. Takumi glanced over in slight amusement before Keisuke suddenly downshifted and slammed on the brakes to stop behind the backed-up traffic waiting for a light to turn. Immediately all the color left Takumi's face and he looked like he might really be ill for a moment.

"Cut the shit," Ryosuke snapped on the other end, sounding even more pissed than before, if such was possible. He couldn't be that angry just because Takumi had walked off! Keisuke wasn't about to let their friend and best driver walk all the way home through the bad parts of town.

"Yes, brother-dear," Keisuke begrudged, the irritated sigh on the other line entertaining enough to make Keisuke forget he was stuck in traffic. Takumi was trying to regain his breath with hands twitching on the upholstery. He better not rip up the seats with his nails, but the guy looked so tense it wasn't doubtful.

"The team is racing Friday night down Akina at ten p.m.," Ryosuke listed it all off irritably, explaining why he was so disturbed after only a few minutes of them leaving. Keisuke raised his eyebrow up at that announcement, staring forward at the light that was refusing the change. They were stuck in the beginning of the midday rush hour in a high powered racing vehicle. Keisuke couldn't think of a worse hell.

"Cool, but why?" Keisuke asked, figuring that Ryosuke had snapped and decided to start a race to show everyone just who was boss. Ryosuke got off on little vindictive trips like that, so cold that anyone would have a hard time trying to not punch the smart-assed bastard. He could just imagine how much the guys would bitch once Ryosuke was out of earshot. The Initial D team was probably talking about Ryosuke right now while he made this call.

"They want Fujiwara too."

…

In retrospect, Keisuke should have really seen that one coming. He had spotted a few of the others checking Takumi out from time to time, and there had been plenty of speculation on if Takumi had ever been involved with another person in a meaningful relationship long before this morning. Keisuke knew much better now, even though he wasn't about to share that knowledge with anyone else any time soon. If Ryosuke had thought he was the only one trying to put the moves on the Hachi-Roku driver, he was dead wrong. Ryosuke had just been the first to get Takumi to realize he was coming on to him. The guy was almost too dense at times, making Keisuke wonder just how much Takumi was letting on to. Nobody could be that stupid.

"What, like a prize?" No fucking way would Takumi ever agree with that. The younger man would probably murder someone first.

"No, to pick out who gets exclusive rights for now. Winner gets to date Fujiwara, losers have to back off," Ryosuke spat out. Keisuke felt his eyes bulge out of his head, wondering just who the fuck had come up with this idea. It certainly wasn't Ryosuke, because he wasn't about to gamble on a race. It had probably been Reiji or Sora. Didn't those two ever learn when to just let something drop?!

"Friday at ten, right?" Keisuke asked again, unable to keep a little bit of ice from keeping into his voice. This just simple couldn't be allowed. It was ridiculous. Nobody got full rights to another person with some stupid race. But, since the rest of the assholes on the team seemed to think they could, Keisuke wasn't above teaching them all a lesson. At least if he won, Keisuke wouldn't have to worry about what the winner was going to do Fujiwara.

"Are you going to race too?!" Ryosuke's voice hit a note that Keisuke had never heard it take before. Something was up. Seriously. Ryosuke wouldn't be literally flipping his lid over his usual one night jaunts. Keisuke stole another glance over at the younger driver, wondering if it just could be that Ryosuke was serious this time. Surprisingly enough, Takumi was staring right back at him with big brown doe eyes that had been finally taken off the road.

"Keisuke. It's green," Takumi pointed at the light at the clear road ahead of them. Keisuke cursed, checking his rearview mirror to see a pissed-off driver behind him. No sooner than had he realized he was backing up traffic did the man start hitting the horn of the silver Honda. A four door, nonetheless. Honking at him! Takumi twisted around in his seat to gape at the flustered driver behind them

"Keisuke!" Ryosuke was yelling at him on the other line as well, the commotion suddenly overwhelming him. He cut the line and turned the cell off before his older brother could say one more word. Keisuke wasn't in the mood to deal with Ryosuke, not now. Just what the fuck were the other guys thinking, trying to get with Takumi just because their so-called leader had finally managed to toss the Hachi-Roku driver down into a bed? Keisuke didn't doubt that Takumi had been drunk and regretted it all now.

He put his good old FD into first, then second and third in such rapid succession that he might as well have done it in one motion. The engine roared to life after being dormant for those few harsh seconds and the tires squealed before they flew forward; Takumi's scream drowning out everything else. Keisuke grinned as the car went forward like the speed demon it was supposed to be…

….and had to stop in front of the same stoplight right at the limit line, the red light staring down at him as if God himself had changed it just to fuck with him. Keisuke stuck his tongue out at the offending traffic light, sighed heavily, and leaned back in the leather seat. Today wasn't his lucky day. Still, it wasn't as bad as Takumi's was, Keisuke reminded himself as he looked over at his passenger yet again. Fujiwara was still pale and visibly shaking in his seat despite the fact that they were at a full and complete stop.

"Takumi, what do you think of Ryosuke?" Keisuke asked, figuring now would be as good of time as ever as the opposite traffic starting going ahead of them. Takumi pulled his eyes away from the street ahead and back at Keisuke with that same familiar, dull expression on.

"What do you mean?"

Anyone would have agreed that it would be justifiable homicide. Just how could someone get away with being so fucking dense?! How had Ryosuke managed to get Takumi to realize just what was going on around him long enough to get in bed with the guy? Along with Nakazato, that Iketani guy from the gas station, and above all that annoying Itsuki? And just who knew what else Takumi wasn't telling him. For being a brilliant driver, Fujiwara was a complete fucking retard in other areas of life.

"My brother. Do-you-like-him?" Keisuke asked slowly, mimicking sign-language for each syllable now that his hands were free from driving. Takumi shot him a look that would have made the frozen tundra seem inviting. Keisuke smacking his lips together before turning back to the road; trying to pretend that driving needed his full attention. Pretty much just doing his best to not piss Takumi off any further. The guy had already had a rough enough day without Keisuke getting angry that he hadn't had a clue to all of Hachi-Roku driver's past relationships.

It wasn't like they were friends or anything, after all the time they had hung out together. Utterly amazing how you thought you could know a person…and find out that he had had more sex than you when one had still been under the impression the other was a stark raving virgin in the original sense of the word. It wasn't like Keisuke and Takumi had stayed in the garage long after everyone else had gone just so he could be sure the younger driver understood a certain part of the engine he'd been introduced to. Keisuke didn't do that for just any dipshit on the team.

"It doesn't even matter, because Ryosuke hates me now," Takumi growled out such a flip-flop answer that Keisuke wasn't sure if the brunette was angry out of spite or love. Damn Ryosuke for screwing things up. Everyone had already trampled through the eggshells around the two, and from the sound of Takumi's voice it didn't sound like forgiveness was anywhere around the corner. Keisuke certainly wasn't going to be the idiot and break the news about the race. Being the messenger of bad news didn't usually mean one got rewarded generously. Especially with Takumi's hidden temper.

"Well, fuck him! What do you think, Takumi? I don't care if you're gay or whatever, if Ryosuke hates you or not. What do you fucking think about this all?" Keisuke didn't even realize he was yelling until Takumi backed up so far against the passenger door that he accidentally hit the button to roll down the window. Immediately the roar of urban life flooded into the Mazda's interior, the heat and rank pollution along with cars honking yet again. Keisuke wished he had a rocket launcher to send at the damn light for changing on him yet again, green now that he had looked away for one second.

Keisuke started the car slowly, suddenly not in the mood to smoke the Honda sedan behind him. Takumi pressed the window button again; the mechanics agonizingly loud as the glass rolled up and sealed them up in sound-proof silence yet again. Keisuke regretted not turning on the radio when they first got in, because to do so now would just be too damn obvious. So much for 'talking things out' like Mom had always preached. The irresponsible bitch was already divorced three times more after Dad and living overseas, at least that was what he'd figured out from the occasional postcard she sent her sons. Who knew how many half-siblings he had running around in the world?

"I just want things to go back to normal. I don't want Ryosuke mad at me," Takumi answered slowly after a long pause, the loneliness in his voice hitting Keisuke hard. He suddenly recalled that Takumi lived alone with his dad and had never heard a word about his mother. Dead, alive and had left in some horrible manner that made him scarred for life? Takumi might as well over been a test-tube baby for how much he spoke of his mother. They were in the same boat when it came to family life, except good old Takahashi senior had left to start up another hospital in a different prefecture, being the ambitious bastard that he was.

Keisuke didn't really have any questions after that. Getting at Takumi's emotions would be just as easy as panning for gold in the city river. Friggin' A, and Friday night was only a couple days away. That was plenty of time for things to get worse. Keisuke should probably just get Takumi home and not even look for the keys; maybe that could keep him out of harm's way until Keisuke could settle this mess for the weekend. Things had gotten way out of hand, all thanks to Ryosuke.

He drove through the town like a grandma, so slow and passive that Takumi even loosened his grip on the chair and leaned back. Keisuke didn't think he had ever seen Takumi so relaxed in a car that he wasn't driving. So, he just continued at that pace all the way back the ten miles or so that Takumi had wanted to talk to the Fujiwara Tofu shop. It wouldn't even be worth it to speed in this bumper-to bumper traffic anyway, cars coming to a halt just as soon as they could get going. This was why Keisuke hated driving during the day.

Takumi didn't seem too inclined to talk either, his forehead pressed up against the window as stared out at the sidewalk. If Keisuke didn't know Takumi any better, he'd say the bastard was actually thinking about something. But, that just couldn't be the case for someone as thick as Takumi. Dull and slow, except when it came to driving and that temper of his. Then, he was a completely different person that either excited Keisuke or scared the shit out of him. Sometimes a mix of both…

And Keisuke was an idiot for thinking about it this deeply! This was Takumi, not some hot babe he had met at the bar. Takumi was his friend that needed a little more attention than others; because if left to his own devices Takumi would probably forget to even eat and bathe. So, he certainly wasn't going to let a bunch of unthinking assholes and their king, his older brother make Takumi feel so miserable. They guy didn't deserve it…especially with his horrible social skills. The guy didn't even know what was going on.

Hopefully it would stay that way, too. Keisuke didn't want to be anywhere in the vicinity when Takumi learned of what was happening Friday night. The Hachi-Roku driver might kill Keisuke for not telling him the moment he had found out. So, Keisuke stayed silent all the way up until he pulled into the alley beside the Fujiwara Tofu Shop. Takumi was unbuckling his seatbelt and already out the door without a word, without even saying 'thank you.' Keisuke had to stop, put the FD in park, and fumble around with the seatbelt that refused to open whenever he was in a hurry. Thankfully, he got out before Takumi to stroll the length of the empty parking spot to the back door.

"Takumi, wait!" Keisuke yelled out, grabbing the brunette's attention long enough to turn around and face him. The questioning look was all Keisuke needed to wonder why the fuck he had stopped Takumi in the first place. Some things needed to be straightened out, like the thoughts had been running around in his head since last night after seeing Takumi naked in Ryosuke's bathroom. Gritting his teeth, Keisuke knew he had to tell Takumi just was going on. He was his friend, and he did have a right to know.

Keisuke probably should have left the engine running, but he didn't usually plan on being an idiot. Honest always seemed to kick him in the ass when he least needed it.

"Takumi, there's gonna be a race on Friday night," Keisuke made his voice sound calm. He wasn't freaked out be this. Takumi wouldn't flip, right? Hadn't he already gotten out most of that rage this morning? Takumi gave him a deadpan look that didn't tell him anything. The idiot could be planning mass murder for all Keisuke knew by that emotionless, bored expression, but he could see the questions clear in Takumi's eyes. Why? When am I going to get my car back?

"It's to see who gets to date you," Keisuke spat it out before the words could stick in his throat. There was crystal silence after that, not even the wind daring to blow as Takumi's eyebrow twitched. Twice. It seemed like even the traffic that should be going by the front of the small driveway had disappeared. Keisuke begun to doubt if he had done the right thing or just invited his own death down on himself. He could hear Takumi grinding his teeth together, the fury just waiting to explode.

And it did, a split-second later when Takumi was flying at him, fists first. Keisuke managed to dodge the first punch and got a wicked right hook in his side for the trouble. The blow almost took the wind out of him, and Keisuke knew that Takumi wasn't kidding around. The intent to hurt him was clear, but Keisuke understood why. He could sympathize with a bad night followed up by an even worse morning that had just been impossibly fucked up further. So, he didn't try to hit back; just grabbed one wrist as it presented itself and swung Takumi off balance. The other driver stumbled and Keisuke shoved Takumi back against the wall of his house, slamming the younger driver's wrist up above his head before he could cause any more damage.

"Get off me," Takumi half-yelled, pushing at Keisuke's chest with one free hand. He barely avoided and knee to the groin and stepped closer to keep Takumi from actually managing to really hurt him. Takumi twisted, slamming his elbow back hard against the wall in attempt to punch Keisuke but not finding the range. Keisuke didn't deserve this. All he had done was try to do the right thing and now the person, for whose sake had said anything in the first damn place, was seemingly intent on kicking his ass. What a great fucking day. Keisuke hadn't even been able to stay for the free meal.

"Hey, I'm not about to lie to about this, so just calm down. I'll run in the race so you don't have to worry about Sora or Reiji if that's what you're pissed about," Keisuke spurt out between Takumi struggling to get away or trying to shove him off. Just as he had suspected, Takumi went still bit by bit as the words finally hit home. Keisuke wasn't about to let his best friend be tossed around that easily to a bunch of selfish jerks.

"You want me, too?" Takumi asked in that small, quiet voice that told Keisuke that the Hachi-Roku driver was nervous. He suddenly realized just how the situation looked, taking out the aspect that Takumi had been trying to kick his ass only a couple of moments before. That Takumi was blushing faintly, only noticeable because Keisuke was so close to him. Plain brown eyes were glistening with some sort of emotion, a little bit obscured by the average-cut bangs falling down across Takumi's brow. There wasn't really anything remarkable about his features, except they were all smooth and perfect, no scars or wrinkles to mess anything up. He was average in an incredibly perfect way. He was above average in others. Keisuke didn't really know much about Takumi at all, not that he had had sex, and not that he had several different partners, if he had any hobbies or likes beyond driving.

Keisuke suddenly didn't have any words at all, left there pinning Takumi to the wall as he suddenly had to think real hard. This should be a question that he had an immediate answer to, one like 'no fucking way,' because he wasn't gay! It had been a while since his last girlfriend, but that was because both Ryosuke and he had decided to swear off the girls that hung all over them during the races after that one time…Maybe he was just getting desperate? No, that's not the case. He could call up any of his ex-s and have a very good chance of getting laid by each and every one of them if he was just horny.

"I-…"

"You! You get the hell away from my son," barked out a deep, authoritative voice that made Keisuke jump away from Takumi like he had been burned. Keisuke turned slowly to see Bunta Fujiwara standing in the back doorway, the same usual bored face as his son twisted down in anger. Keisuke knew he should run, just get in the car without explaining himself; but such a question left unanswered? He couldn't very well say anything in front of Takumi's dad right here and now. Keisuke stood there, frozen up like an idiot, while Takumi's dad slipped his bare feet into a pair of outdoor sandals and walked over to them slowly.

"Takumi, go inside the house," his dad snapped coldly, not taking his slitted eyes off of Keisuke. Bunta's voice was enough to jerk Takumi out of his stunned position on the wall, shoving his hands back in his pockets as he always did whenever he was nervous. But, he didn't go toward the door. Instead, Takumi chanced one last curious glance at Keisuke before he looked back down to the ground.

"Dad, I," Takumi started, shuffling his feet and swallowing nervously. Bunta's old, tanned face scrunched up even more, his teeth visibly grinding together.

"Get back in the house," Takumi's dad didn't even have to yell to make it feel like it. Keisuke could feel the man's anger at being disobeyed go up a few notches. He wasn't so sure if he should let Takumi go, wondering just how inclined the older Fujiwara was to beating his own son. Takumi had seemed scared enough this morning that his dad was going to kill him. Maybe he had actually been literal. Keisuke didn't want to be alone with Takumi's dad either right now, sure he was about to get grilled for being in such a compromising position with his son.

Takumi didn't say anything more after that, didn't even dare to look up from the pavement as he dragged his feet toward the door. Bunta watched his son go, keeping an eye on him until the door finally clicked shut before turning on Keisuke. And started glaring, measuring him up with those damn squinty eyes that didn't offer anything back. Keisuke realized why Takumi was so goddamn nervous all the time with a father like this, shuffling his own feet nervously and suddenly became aware of his useless hands just hanging at his side. He had been using them to restrain the man's in front of him son just a few second ago. Ryosuke was right. He was a fucking idiot.

"Well, you want to tell me just what's going on?" Bunta asked slowly, violence very obviously barely checked. He was waiting for a damn good excuse, giving Keisuke a chance to explain himself. Except he couldn't. He wasn't even really sure of what was going on himself yet. Keisuke was going to kill whoever's bright idea it was to race, for making him start to question his relationship with Takumi. They were just friends. So, why had he been pinning Takumi to the side of the house only a few moments ago? It was more than just trying to keep Takumi from hitting him. Keisuke was certain of that now.

"I-…" Keisuke started, swallowed, and went to try again.

"Are going to stay the hell away from my son. You're sick, it's a fucking disease. If I ever see you here again, I will beat your ass so hard your own mother won't recognize you," Bunta didn't make it a suggestion. Keisuke couldn't do anything but nod jerkily, not about to mouth off and correct the man by saying his mother probably wouldn't recognize him anyway. Definitely not about to argue sexual prejudice with an angry old man that had about fifty pounds and several inches on him. Keisuke wasn't gay…really…but, he wasn't about to let that preference be trashed. Ryosuke certainly didn't have a 'disease.' Takumi wasn't either. He left the Fujiwara residence with a sick taste in his mouth, not sure what was going to happen to Takumi when he dad was so pissed off, but pretty damn certain of what would happen if he went back Takumi's dad would probably kill him.

Keisuke backed down the alley way to the side of the FD and eased in slowly; pretty damn sure that any sudden movements would have Bunta on him like an animal. He turned the engine on and put in reverse while having a staring contest with Takumi's dad through the windshield. It wasn't a damn 'disease,' it had been love, or at least something like that. Things wouldn't be so messed up if it was just a simple sickness. There could be a cure and everything would be all nice and normal like Bunta Fujiwara and the rest of the closed-minded people who thought like him wanted. Except there wasn't… but, when life gave you lemons, you make lemonade. He wasn't about to let him, his brother, and Takumi's friendship go down the drain like this.

Friday night would have to clear the air up once and for all.

* * *

Takumi heard Keisuke's car rumble to life and pull away from the house in a muted manner that made him wonder just what his old man had said to Keisuke. He was kind of relieved that the other driver was making it away safely even though Dad was in a mood. At least he wasn't drinking and raging. Takumi hadn't heard any yelling while he waited inside the small living room waiting for his old man to come back in. And probably give him the beating of his life for that little scuffle in the alley.

He wasn't even sure of what that had been. His vision had just gone red at the mention of the rest of the guys deciding to race over him, without his permission, for something a little more fucking personal than the usual stakes. Takumi probably wasn't even going to be allowed to race on his own behalf. Assholes. Amazing how one little mistake like actually agreeing to Ryosuke's dinner date last night had turned his whole life upside down. That shitty old many also knew about it too, because Keisuke had refused to let him go long past the point when Takumi stopped freaking out about the race and realized that Keisuke was suddenly intimidating and looming over him.

The back door opened and shut. Takumi heard the old man kick off his sandals and light up a cigarette before heavy footsteps made the length into the living room. Dad knew he'd be waiting there, ready for punishment like usual. If only he wasn't so dumb or slow, maybe Takumi could have stopped this mess from ever starting, but he hadn't been able to make Keisuke get off him. Just like Ryosuke. They were probably never going to talk to him again after this mess. Keisuke couldn't have possibly been meaning to say anything like what Takumi had secretly wanted to hear. Just the knowledge that someone gave a shit after Ryosuke had used him for one night and made it clear that that would be it. Depressing really, how gullible he was.

His old man stood at the living room doorway, taking a long drag of his cigarette before he looked Takumi up and down with those squinty eyes. He blew out a smoke ring, patient and cold in his examination of the oversized clothes Ryosuke had still been gentleman enough to let Takumi borrow. Takumi couldn't tell if he was in trouble or not for coming home in someone else's clothes. Maybe Keisuke had just gotten the brunt of the shitty old man's anger…and maybe he could rewind life back to yesterday and have never gone over to the Takahashi's in the first place. Real fucking wishful thinking.

"Where's the car?" Bunta asked coldly, not really surprising Takumi in the least. He wasn't always his father's first concern, despite being the only live blood relation left. At least as far as Takumi knew.

"It's at Keisuke's house," Takumi admitted quietly, making sure to not put any sort of tone in his voice at all. He had learned that the smallest thing could provoke the old man when he got angry, so it was best not to do anything at all. Though even that sometimes mad Bunta angry as well. Takumi didn't really understand his Dad; because he was fine except for the few times a month he drank too much or got irritated over the shop, the car, the bills, and anything else that was Takumi's fault.

"Is that the name of that kid?" Dad asked, jerking a thumb toward the back door. Takumi nodded, looking away from the leathery, tanned face and to the floor. The tatami mats were a better place to star at, not about to get pissed at him for looking too long or 'getting smart-assed,' as Bunta had said many times before.

"Why?"

Oh, well, that's because I let his brother fuck me last night and then- Takumi doubted his father would ever listen to the rest of that explanation. He bit his lip, trying to think of a good lie that wouldn't be immediately seen through. His father seemed to have a talent for knowing when Takumi was trying to fib his way out of things.

"They took my keys away," Takumi decide on honest, albeit a censored version.

"Did you drink last night?" There was doubt in the old man's voice, but he had provided a better excuse than anything that Takumi would have been able to think of. He nodded along to his father's questioning. It was followed by a deep sigh and Bunta taking yet another long drag of his cigarette while looking Takumi up and down again.

"Did he do something to you last night?" Takumi glanced up at that, unbelieving that his father had really just asked that. The shitty old man wasn't so much as blinking, waiting for an answer. Was this a parent's intuition? Bunta had suddenly becoming quite insightful for not being a father the past nineteen years.

"He didn't," Takumi assured his father quickly, not wanting to cause anymore trouble for Keisuke. He had already done enough today by driving him home, and his dad had gone and probably scared Keisuke away for good. How were things supposed to get back to normal when even his own father was against him?

"'He?'" Bunta echoed back, spying through that truth just as easily as if Takumi had been trying to lie and said nothing had happened last night. Takumi bit his lower lip, gnawing away at the meaty flesh in severe nervousness. He felt heat rush to his cheeks despite everything, knowing he was blush at the worst possible time. There was another long bout of silence as his father digested those words.

"Takumi, are you gay?" Well, his father had never been known for beating around the bush. There was a tension that filled the room, choking Takumi before he even had a chance to answer. He had never really thought about himself before. He had done it with Mogi, but that had felt mechanical and even Natsuki said she hadn't really felt anything. 'It's like doing my brother,' Natsuki's words still echoed in his head, and they hadn't really been able to talk after that. And, she'd been the only girl he had ever really felt anything for…nobody else had seemed to show an interest but the guys around him.

"Maybe," Takumi guessed at it, not very sure of the answer. He had just gone with the flow of things, letting everything get messed up without really putting up much of a fight. He couldn't think of anything else to do. Bunta's shoes were suddenly in his vision, Takumi's eyes rolling to meet his father's face helplessly for a split second before he got an open-palm slap to the face. It almost sent him to the floor, Takumi staggering with the force of it before regaining his balance. The side of his cheek was a mix between numbness and a thousand bees stinging in the outline of the old man's hand.

Takumi gingerly touched it with the tips of his fingers, wincing away at the raw throb that sure meant it was going to bruise. His cheek already felt like it was swelling up. He looked up in a bit of disbelief at his father, unable to understand why that answer had deserved that sort of punishment. It hurt, and Takumi knew better than to ask for a reason why. That would only get him another hit, probably not as gentle as a slap. He waited there in his old man's disapproving silence as Bunta blocked the doorway and looked down on him. Eventually, the shitty old man just shook his head in pure disgust and turned aside from the door.

"Go up to your room. I'll tell you when you can come out," he ordered in a low voice that brooked no argument. Takumi choked on the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. He just suddenly felt so bad, just nothing but a disappointment since day one for his father. He bit his lip, slowly walking past his father and up the stairs. All the way to his room at the end of the hall and closed the door behind him. Stood there for a moment, not really sure what to do with himself and the emotion building up in his chest.

Eventually Takumi just slid down against the door, burying his face in between his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs. He didn't cry, couldn't find it in himself to cry. He was to numb to do anything but sit there in the darkened corner of his room while the sun slowly passed outside his window while the ache on his cheek faded into a rhythmic throbbing that went in time to his heartbeat.

* * *

"Hey, Ryosuke. Do me a favor?" Was the first thing that Keisuke said to him after a whole day of relative silence. After sitting through the rest of that abomination called breakfast, Ryosuke had went straight home and turned his cell phone off for the rest of the day, not about to talk to another human being for a while. He had picked up the shambles of his usually tidy room before finally going his computer, planning out simulations and processing the calculations through the machine for the rest of the day. He was double-checking all the numbers and research that he had done on Mount Akina before. He wasn't about to make some foolish mistake like not refresh the data. He had to get a better time, better speed, better everything before Friday night. Anything less would not be tolerated.

He turned in the revolving chair at his desk to face Keisuke as his younger brother swaggered into his room and plopped down on his bed. Ryosuke had already been sure to change the sheets from last night, unable to stand the thought of dirty bedding. Or of Takumi. He was going to race to his best on Friday night just to put everyone in their rightful place. He was the leader after all, and nobody should be forgetting that just because there had been a lull in real races. Nobody had been able to challenge him after Fujiwara, the last real battler in the country…

"Ryosuke? Hello?" Keisuke sung, catching Ryosuke's attention and dragging it away from Fujiwara. Who he was not thinking about obsessively. A Takahashi did not obsess. Nor did they get rejected quite harshly after a good bout of sex.

"What?" Ryosuke snapped out, bitterness tingeing his voice no matter how calm and collected he tried to stay. It wasn't even because he was still mad at Keisuke; quite the opposite. He had gotten over that a long time ago, used to his brother being an ass. It was because despite having a near-perfect simulation, Fujiwara had still managed to resist and even insult him at the end of it before Takumi had made a grand exit in front of everyone.

"Take Takumi's keys back to him at home," Keisuke asked, reminded Ryosuke that the Hachi-Roku was still parked out front of the keys were in his desk. He guiltily thought of the tofu shop advertisement on the side of the vehicle, knowing that Takumi and his father's business depended on the deliveries they made with it. Now he was being nothing more than a selfish asshole; should have given the damn keys back before Takumi had stormed off. He had just thought it would force Takumi to talk to him, but the younger driver seemed intent on ignoring and avoiding him.

Well, it wasn't like Keisuke could just drive the Hachi-Roku home himself and Ryosuke follow behind as a taxi for the trip back. Everyone knew better than to drive another man's personal racing vehicle. Mistakes and accidents always happened when you were least expecting it, especially if one was driving a car that wasn't registered in their name without insurance. Ryosuke may not believe in any particular faith, but he could depend on the predictably of the world and its tendency to go wrong just when everything seemed to be fine.

Like this morning, for example.

"Are you kidding?" Ryosuke asked, sure that Keisuke knew just how much Takumi didn't want to see him right now. They had probably talked the whole drive back to Takumi's place, laughed it up real good at his expense. He just hoped that Takumi hadn't said anything embarrassing about his performance last night to his brother. Ryosuke couldn't stand the thought of Keisuke knowing those little details about his sex life.

"Trust me. I think he'll want you to bring them," Keisuke said with a mysterious smile on his face, making Ryosuke wonder just how innocent this request really was. He sighed heavily and decided to go with it anyway, not really having anything better to do. Simulations could be damned when he was distracted with thoughts of a messed-up friendship and even worse off love. He had to settle things before he went crazy. Well, whatever ulterior motives Keisuke had, it still wasn't half bad of an idea.

Ryosuke grabbed both his own kids and Takumi's while Keisuke waved him off with that jackal's grin on his face. Keisuke knew that he was no match for Takumi's dad, didn't have the willpower to square off with an adult. No matter how much of a bigoted old asshole Bunta Fujiwara was, Keisuke couldn't bring himself to yell back at the man. Ryosuke was another matter all together, cold and vicious in his own way. And, Keisuke could see that Takumi was obviously brother his brother even when he wasn't there. Besides, it would give him a little peace of mind if someone went back there and checked up on Takumi.

Keisuke wasn't about to go near that house any time soon.

* * *

"We're closed," Bunta grunted when he heard someone walk in through the front door. He didn't bother to look up from restocking the tofu in the store; not about to serve some idiot that couldn't see the 'closed' sign hanging in the window. Someone cleared his throat, not in a polite way, but in a demand for attention. Bunta sighed, standing up straight and wiping his hands on the front of his apron; not pleased at all with being interrupted from his work. He turned to face the customer and found himself looking at a man wearing a soft-grey jacket and slacks in the middle of summer. The tie was knotted almost severely, everything about this guy pressed and neat all the way down to his shoes. Black hair and black eyes, classic Japanese features, and somehow familiar.

"Sir," the man bowed his head ever so slightly, just enough to be polite. Not enough considering the difference in their ages. Bunta could tell that he was being looked down upon; some superior bastard probably armed with papers legal documents. The asshole likely never worked a hard day in his life.

"Look, I don't know what agency you're from, but I paid all the bills this month," Bunta started argued, damn sure that he had sent a check on time to each and one of those vulture corporations. It was bad enough trying to make living and support his good-for-nothing son along the way. Bunta tried not to get angry again, especially in front of this bill collector, so he pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the irritation from overwhelming him.

"I'm not from any agency," the man returned coolly, but Bunta could tell that there was a hint of amusement in the voice. As if the thought of him in such a profession was absolutely ridiculous. He didn't like this arrogant, cocky manner the other man had, frowning at the answer. The man sighed like he was dealing with a slow child and dug into his pocket. The man produced a set of keys, which he sat down on top of the protective glass over the tofu. Bunta stared at it for a moment before recognizing the key to the Hachi-Roku and realizing that they must be his idiot son's.

"My brother asked me to bring these to Takumi." Bunta gaped at the other man, realizing that must be the reason why the man had looked slightly familiar. This man was the brother of that Keisuke kid? Bunta wasn't sure if this was some nerve and utter gall on these brother's behalves, or if the perverted little shit was too scared to bring the keys back himself. He looked the man up and down again, judging him to be in his late thirties. Most definitely the older brother, perhaps even come here to apologize for his younger sibling molesting his son.

"The car's outside?" Bunta assumed it out loud. There was a slight twitch at the corner of this stoic asshole's mouth, more than making up for the irritation of the car not being there. Bunta could tell that this wasn't a man easily flustered, so he took what little joy he could out of seeing the bastard squirm.

"No, sir," the other man admitted after a second's pause with all that cocky attitude back in full throttle. Bunta sighed and tisked like he hadn't been able to come up with that conclusion on his own before anything was said; smiling inside when the somewhat younger man winced a bit.

"Well, a whole fucking lot of good this does me," Bunta grumbled finally, reaching around his back to untie the apron.

"Is Takumi here? I can drive him back to the car," the man suggested in a monotone voice. Too casual. Bunta's eyes narrowed as he sized the tall, well-built man and actually noticed the pretty face; not used too studying the facial features of another man. He was already shaking his head in disgust, figuring the man probably had the same problem as his brother. He took off the apron and threw it aside, wondering just when it had become 'okay' to prance around openly flaunting such a deviant behavior. It was just plain sick.

"No, he's not. I needed that car for deliveries this morning, and I'm sure as hell not going to miss tomorrow. You'll take me back," Bunta snapped; grabbing the keys before the man had a chance to protest. He wasn't about to let Takumi be alone with another boy, no longer able to trust his son. The next girl that liked tofu to walk in the shop would be finding herself landed with a date with his son. If only he could remember the name of that Nogi-something girl Takumi had been so interested in a while ago. No way was he about to let his son out of the room until he was sure he had some way to fix the mess Takumi was trying to make of his life. He was most definitely not 'maybe' gay. Unacceptable answer.

"All right, then," the man returned calmly, making Bunta feel like he was overreacting. Not that the man could have any clue as to what had happened this morning, sure his brother had a completely different story. It was hard to not get fuming mad just remembering his son being pressed up against the wall in what was definitely wasn't friendship or even a fight between temperamental teenagers. Why couldn't the roles at least have been reversed, instead of Takumi looking like the smaller and frailer one of the pair? His son couldn't even be masculine in his 'gayness.' Sick, sick, sick. Where had he screwed up in raising the boy? He was going to fix Takumi real quick, starting from right now as Bunta regulated on these two brothers. His son was not gay.

Neither of them said anything after that as Bunta put on his usual sandals and followed the man out to the front of the shop. There was another Mazda, a silver FC this time. Bunta would have guess that the car was this man's even before he started walking in the direction of it. He had already admitted to being brothers to that punk from this morning. Bunta found himself pursing his lips and wondering if maybe he really should send Takumi. He didn't really want to ride in the same car as one of 'those' people, sourly hoping that the man wouldn't try to talk to him on the way.

The man had a button on his keys, unlocking the doors by remote for him. Trying to look reluctant after being the one to suggest anything in the first place, Bunta opened the door and stepped inside the car. The man followed suit, starting up the engine before slowly pulling on his seatbelt and waiting for Bunta to do the same. He did so after he realized that they weren't going to go anywhere until he did. And he had thought kids today were reckless drivers.

"So, where is Takumi, then?" the man asked as he pulled out easily into the streets. Traffic wasn't so bad this late at night, and it seemed like the man he was riding with was a relatively safe driver. At least on public streets. Bunta could tell from the sound of the engine, the feel of the suspension, and by judging the reactions of the car that this was a vehicle meant for racing. But, he shouldn't be thinking about the car, but a good excuse.

…Bullshit on the excuse! He didn't have to give a reason, Takumi was his son! He could choose whom his son associated with, and it certainly wouldn't be some fag brothers trying to hang all over him. Takumi would not ever be involved in that sort of thing. He was a boy, had liked football when he was younger, and wasn't some weak girly type. Bunta was going to see to it. He wouldn't stand for his son being pinned to the wall by another man, one that Takumi should be able to lick any day of the week

"Why are you two brothers so damn interested in my son? I'll sw-…" Bunta started his threat, avoiding the answer completely, but it was impeded by the man starting to laugh out loud again, barely able to keep his eyes on the road as they drove back to wherever the Hachi-Roku was. It was too long of a trip, certainly more than fifteen minutes by now. It felt like he had been in the car forever already, his skin itching from the filth of this man's lifestyle.

"Keisuke? He's just friends with Takumi, and he's certainly not gay either," the man made him sound like a paranoid old man. Bunta would just love to see this brother try to explain what had happened in the alley early this morning with such ease and humor. He just crossed his arms over the seatbelt, knowing what he had seen and not about to let Takumi get swept up in some sick, perverted fad with the rest of his 'friends.'

"I'm the one involved with Takumi."

Bunta was kind of surprised when his eyes actually stayed in their sockets. The shock had been so bad that he had thought they would fall right out. He had definitely been suspecting, but he hadn't actually thought the man would just come on out and admit to actually doing something. And with his son! Bunta couldn't imagine it, repressed the thought cold and hard before he could even picture anything. Just stared straight forward down the road and tried to concentrate on the bumper of the vehicle in front of him.

"What's your name again?" Bunta asked slowly, wanting to know in case he decided to file some legal papers later to get this guy the hell away from his son. Takumi wasn't gay, would stop being 'involved' with this as soon as this ride was over and Bunta could get back to the house. He'd cure that boy of this thing real quick, either with a girl or until he got the sense beaten back into him.

"Takahashi Ryosuke." Bunta digested the name for a moment before memory connected. God, the recollection hit him like a blow to the stomach, hadn't thought about that name in a long time because it was connected with her. The one person he tried to forget with a vengeance, not about to remember the original face that Takumi had inherited. It was bad enough with her eyes lazily staring at him, the same accusation in those depths. Bunta hated it.

"Your father isn't-…?" Maybe it was coincidence. Perhaps it was a common last name, but the face was suddenly starting to get more and more familiar. If he had been older with a trim goatee, it would have matched that man's face exactly. It had been years, but someone didn't forget a person in that sort of situation.

"Doctor Takahashi. He runs a hospital out in Akagi," this Ryosuke explained. Wouldn't it just happen to be the doctor that had given birth to Takumi? God, he had been such an idiot back then; in love with Takumi's mother without another thought. They hadn't married once Bunta found out she was pregnant after a few weeks of fooling around; her citing desire to not look like a prized heifer for the most important day of her life. So, Bunta had waited on her hand and foot for eight months, assuming that they were happily content with each other.

Imagine his surprise with the doctor came back with a baby boy and no mother many hours later. Bunta had immediately assumed she'd died in childbirth, his heart breaking and all of the blame going on the seven-pound and something odd bundle in the man's arms…but, instead found out that once they had taken the baby away to wash before presenting it to its mother, she had stolen all the medical drugs in the room and had already escaped the hospital. Gone. Tatsuko hadn't even been her real name, no medical records matching anything he tried to describe to them. The police, however, had had quite a few records on the love of the life, apparently not he first in a long trail of motherless babies and fathers out several thousand dollars.

So, he ended up stuck with raising a child at the height of his racing career. He had to give it all up, a damn shame that he hadn't the heart to toss the kid into some orphanage. He had tried at first, juggling his true calling while trying to make some actual money and keep a baby healthy, clean, and fed. Things got so bad he dropped the kid off with his own parents for a while until he managed to make a living for himself.

Delivering tofu.

Some grand fucking life for someone who had once been the undisputed king of all street-racing in Japan. But, his legend had already passed and been forgotten. He honestly hoped that Takumi was as big as Yuichi kept telling him. It had seemed like so long since he had seen his son excited or looking forward to a race, the months seeming like years. It had really warmed his heart to see Takumi finally get interested in cars, but his son had still remained the dull, unextraordinary self. It was probably because he kept fooling around with the boys, no girl to keep him thinking straight; both literally and figuratively. To think that the son of the man who had given birth to Takumi and drop the little bastard in his arms.

It was Takumi's fault he life was like this, so he was going to make damn certain that his son's didn't get screwed up as well. Though it seemed like Takumi was determined to fuck it up himself, along with this Ryosuke Takahashi. Bunta didn't like the man who was driving right now, didn't like the easy way he admitted to fooling around with his son. Even though they were both male. Bunta wasn't about to demand any specifics, because he didn't even want to think about how far the two had gone. They wouldn't be doing anything more of the same, ever again.

"Sir, I would like you to know that I have no intention of hurting your son," the man started, staring straight ahead at the stoplight they had come to. Bunta saw right through the opening line, sure that the little asshole was going to try to get his permission, blessing, whatever the hell it was that would allow him to molest his son. There was certainly more than one wire crossed in this kid's head.

"Oh, don't even fucking start with me, you little shit. You won't ever talk, touch, or see my son again. He's not like that," Bunta snapped back, his nerves already frayed to their loosest point. How much longer would it be until they reached the man's house? The perfect driving pissed him off, the polite but arrogant attitude rubbing him exactly the wrong way. This wasn't the kind of person he wanted his son to be interested in; Ryosuke wasn't even the right sex for them to be romantically involved.

And Bunta could never recall wanting to kill anyone more than at the moment the little snot broke out into loud, healthy laughter. It went on for much too long, making Bunta wonder how long this had been going on; just how long had he been oblivious? This Ryosuke even missed the light change to green, so caught up in his mirth. Bunta found it hard not to step out of the vehicle right then and there.

"I beg to differ. Takumi's very much like 'that,' and I fully intend to speak to your son sometime soon," Ryosuke shot his words right back at him on he was back in control of his capacity, wiping at his eyes that were reddened from the laughter. Bunta's hands twitched with the desire to reach out and strangle the shit as he finally pulled out and started forward again. Bunta regretted not sending Takumi, realizing that just one last time wouldn't be so bad- since there seemed to have been times before this- to have spared him from this.

Bunta eye's narrowed on the road ahead of them, hating the man's careful and courteous driving. It was all an act, some kind of scam to get close to his son. Well, Bunta wasn't about to allow Ryosuke to talk to Takumi about anything ever again. He wasn't a man who made empty promises, and he hoped that the Keisuke that had been there earlier today had told his brother just what Bunta had threatened him with. The same would apply to Ryosuke, and Bunta figured that one warning would be more than enough.

"Mr. Fujiwara, you can't stop me," the man announced in a voice of steel. Bunta looked at him, really looked at him after that statement. Cold, black, and emotionless eyes were set straight forward with no time to look at distractions. Business and efficiency were hammered into every inch of this kid; Bunta realizing that underneath the maturity was a person not very much older than Takumi. And this composed, obviously well-to-do near stranger was interested in his son. Was so enamored that he actually had the gall to say something like that to a father.

"Try me," Bunta shot back, not about to second guess himself. Even if the man thought he felt this strongly about his son, it still was a love that could never be accepted. If it was love at all. Maybe Takumi had just gotten confused, taking friendship for something more because Bunta had been ignoring him. There were certainly better ways to get back at a father. He already provided a roof over Takumi's head, clothes, and food and gotten repaid with his son being gay.

"I will," Ryosuke promised in that same ice-cold voice that made Bunta really believe the snot-nosed asshole that was still wet behind the ears. Made him start to think this man's intention ran a little bit deeper than what he had first assumed. He couldn't start to imagine the guts this kid had for barking back at him, fully set on having his son even if it meant going up against a guy who was probably twenty years his senior. They both looked forward at the road again, that contest of wills having no clear winner.

The drive home was a quiet affair after that, Bunta unable to think of anything to say as he had to start thinking about just why he was so damn set against it.

* * *

"And then?" Yuichi asked, taking another drag off his cigarette and finishing it off with another shot. Bunta stared down at his own small glass, dark amber liquid sloshing around the edge. It was just like the paper cups he filled up for Takumi everyday before he left on delivery. Just when had his son grown up so much to make choices like these? Choices that he was just too old to easily accepted. He had hoped Takumi would get married and have kids, legal, happy kids like he could never have. He hadn't even been able to tell Takumi the truth about his mother, just didn't speak about it about hoped the kid wouldn't ask. Thankfully, he hadn't. Perhaps that was what had started the silence between them, words unable to serve any purpose. Maybe that's why he had missed the signs that Takumi had been going out with another person…a man, in fact.

"I'm parked outside, aren't I?" Bunta snapped back, swallowing his own drink and relishing the burn of alcohol and it went down his throat. The last few minutes of the rides had been hell, pure and simple. He couldn't remember a single time he had had been more ready to jump out of a car. Thankfully, Ryosuke Takahashi had pulled up to his house not long after that sun had set behind the tall skyscrapers of the main downtown area, the Hachi-Roku reflecting the last bit of light off the white paint. Bunta had taken off without saying anything, 'no thanks,' no threats. Just got inside the car, locked the doors, and took off without another word.

Of course, he couldn't have just gone straight home. He wouldn't be able to think there. He had stayed in the Hachi-Roku for a long time, driving around aimlessly as he recounted Takumi growing up; always in trouble for bad grades, sick more often than not, and slow to boot. Figuring that despite everything, Takumi was still his son; so he put the kid behind the wheel and forced him to drive everyday no matter how much he whined. The car was the best place for a man, a little bit of peace inside the two-door hutch back that couldn't be found anywhere else in the city. Bunta had thought and thought, unable to believe that there was anything he had done particularly wrong beyond having sex with Takumi's mother.

So, he ended up at Yuichi's gas station, dazed and confused. Thank God for old friends. He had thrown up the closed sign and sent two unfamiliar boys home early, busted out a bottle of hard liquor and a fresh packet of 'emergency' cigarettes. Yuichi had sat him down on the couches he had set up for employees and customers in front of a dead TV; the blank screen reflecting a washed up man way past his prime. Bunta couldn't find himself thinking of anything else but Takumi and that Keisuke outside the shop. And the newer Ryosuke. He ended up talking out loud about what had happened, regardless of if Yuichi wanted to hear it or not. He had to get it out to another human being, had to confirm that he wasn't crazy.

"Have you talked to Takumi yet?" Yuichi asked cautiously, just trying to get the full scope of things. The questioning didn't piss him off as much as trying to speak to Ryosuke and Takumi was. Bunta shook his head negatively, reaching out to pour them both new shots. Yuichi took a contemplative breath from his half-finished cigarette, exhaling loudly in the silence of the station. He wasn't about to say that he had slapped the kid good for acting in such a way- and even worse, had given a vague yes-no answer. That was far to close to a 'yes' than Bunta could stand.

"Times are changing, my friend. It's okay to be that way now. Some girls even get all excited over two boys being good friends," Yuichi stated, and Bunta knew that he couldn't argue with the man. He saw much more of the modern world in this gas-station, dealing with young folks everyday when Bunta only saw old geezers that loved their tofu or business representatives come into his shop. Still, he had been brought up to believe a man and a woman fell in love, got married, and that was that. Bunta didn't want Takumi to mess it all up for himself just like he had.

"Well, what if it was your boy?" Bunta shot back, dismal and insulted in his complete failure as a father. If he had just found another woman or something replace the gap she had left; perhaps the lack of a mother made Takumi distant from women?

"It is my boy. He moved to fucking Hawaii and married some American named Jim. I hated it more than anything else in my whole life," Yuichi snapped, a fierce look on his face. Bunta gritted his teeth, realizing that it had been a while since he had last asked his friend about his family. Bunta had no idea that things had gotten so bad for his friend…was almost ashamed for overreacting with his own son.

"But, he was happy with the guy. So, I gritted my teeth and lied, saying it was 'okay.' Because he's still my son," Yuichi explained slowly, leaning forward to tap out the ash collecting at the end of his cigarette in the glass tray on the coffee table. He picked up his shot glass and swallowed it quickly after divulging that little secret. Bunta just stared, unable to even comprehend what he friend had said. Just how did he pretend that everything was fine and dandy when his son was actually fucking another man? There would be no grandchildren in a relationship like that; there was no well in hell you could tell your friends just who was romantically involved; because they were the same sex. The equipment and holes just didn't match up for that sort of thing between two people of the same gender.

"You gotta ask yourself just what you want for Takumi; because if he's really gay, you'll have to accept that as a father." Honesty had never hurt so much before. Bunta stared down at the one square foot tiles between his shoes, his arms on his knees as the cigarette burned down into the filter. He wanted Takumi to be happy, to have a good life like his shitty old man never had; but certainly not with another man. It was beyond his ability to cope, but he had thought the same thing the first time he'd seen Takumi. Just because everything seemed like it was going to hell in a handbag didn't mean it wasn't survivable. Bunta hadn't been able to refuse that pair of big, innocent brown eyes that were barely a day old, and thought himself to be a damn good father; considering the circumstances. He still remembered when Takumi had done his first drift, smiling like an idiot and talking so fast that the boy could barely finish the sentence before he was off again. Bunta had been so damn proud when Takumi kept coming home with a winning streak for Akina and anywhere else the kids tried to beat him; still remembered his stomach shoving up past his throat and into his mouth when Takumi called and said he had been in an accident, and the relief when he found out it had just been the car. It was then that Bunta had realized that his beloved Hachi-Roku didn't matter as much as his son being safe and unhurt.

He slumped forward even further, so far that his head almost touched the table. Yuichi shouldn't have made such a damn good point. Bunta would have been much happier going to the police station tomorrow morning and getting a restraining order on those Takahashi brothers…but, when he stopped to think about it, he knew it would just kill Takumi. These were the people that Takumi had started to hang out with everyday, the ones that had taught his son the difference between a radiator and transmission, showed the idiot how to change the oil when Bunta hadn't even get Takumi to pop the hood. He hated to admit it, but Bunta knew those perverted brothers meant something to his son. Definitely more than what they should as men, but what if it was just like Yuichi said? What if Takumi was actually content with this choice?

His thoughts were interrupted by someone starting to pound on the glass doors of the gas station. Bunta didn't so much as twitch while Yuichi cursed and sat up, eventually walking over to see just what the problem was. Bunta only listened with half an ear as his grumbled and eventually walked to the door to unlock it. The glass slid open and immediately several different voices started talking at once.

"What do you guys want this late?" Yuichi demanded loudly of whoever was gathered at the door, obviously familiar and not pleased with these people. Bunta figured that it was probably the usual group of kids Yuichi had working for him, but he couldn't summon the energy to lift his head and turn around to see who it was, too damn tired all of a sudden. Since when had he become old, too old to easily accept his son's lifestyle like Yuichi had? No, that wasn't it. Age had nothing to do with it, accept for that age-old fear and hate that his father had trained into him from when Bunta himself had been a boy.

"We saw the car out front. Is Takumi here? Is it true?!" yelled out Itsuki's voice. God, it had seemed like years since he had heard that annoying screech of the kid who had once been inseparable from Takumi. Bunta hadn't been sorry to see that friend go, able to tell in a second that Takumi could have done much better than that noisy loser…As a friend! Damn it. Since when had his thoughts become so scattered? A few minutes ago he had been sure of everything. Takumi wasn't gay, or Bunta was going fix him if he was. And Yuichi hadn't even tried anything of the sort, just accepted what his son had wanted to do with his life. Wasn't that what Bunta had always said he would do as well?

"No, he's not. Is what true?" Yuichi demanded behind him. Bunta sighed heavily, decided he couldn't hold of the inevitable conversation he would have with his son. He didn't touch his own full glass on the table, just finally flicked the burning stub of his forgotten cigarette into the ash tray.

"Than who is here?" asked another voice as Bunta finally sat up, composed himself, and stood up.

"Are the Redsuns really racing for a date with Takumi?" Itsuki demanded again in uncontrollable excitement. Bunta turned around in shock at that, finally drawing everyone's attention. He heard a mumbled 'oh shit' from one of the several other boys gathered outside the gas-station, recognizing the Iketani kid that had come to his shop once before and begged him to race. He looked a little old now, but not much different from the first time Bunta had seen him.

"When?" Bunta demanded coldly, all thoughts of speaking with Takumi fleeing his mind; replaced by a cold, icy determination that he hadn't felt in years.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Booya, I just jammed on this one, I don't know how but I started it at the beginning of the month and here it is. So, there's probably an equal amount of errors. Feeling up to beta-reading, anyone?

And don't worry kids, this isn't going to get much worse, I still consider this a comedic piece in the end, so… yeah. Writing a bigot gets repetitive. I tried watching Jerry to get some insight, but that didn't last long. I must recommend the area 88 soundtrack to EVERYONE.