Initial D Fan Fiction ❯ Unlimited ❯ I love you like you are ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Initial D and the following characters belong to Shigeno Shuichi, along with their bad ass cars.

Keisuke took in a deep breath of the mountain air, the nighttime only slightly cooler than the day. The pavement was still hot from being in the sun all day under his feet. It was a perfectly clear night, every city light shining up out of the valley and dulling out the weakest stars in the sky. The large street lamps above their heads hummed lazily, bugs circling around close to the light as they waited for the galleries to be filled, traffic to clear up, everyone to finally get ready with their cars. The large parking lot at the top of mount Akina was just about filled to bursting with large racing vehicles, other cars of people just watching, the crowds and drivers milling about. For just being a match between the teammates for dating rights to one of their own, Keisuke hadn't been expecting there to be such a crowd. Sure, they were the Redsuns and it didn't matter where they went, because there would always be a commotion, but it wasn't like this race had been announced on the radio. It was crazy out here for a team-member only race.

"Keisuke, you better be ready to have the shit get beaten out of you tonight," Ryosuke threatened in his usual cold manner. What was different was that the man was cursing and tossing around challenges like confetti. It wasn't like his brother to threaten needlessly, but it only went to show just how much this thing with Takumi was really upsetting him. It was upsetting Keisuke too, and knew damn well that Ryosuke had made a big mistake by sticking his dick where it didn't belong; but, he wasn't flying off the hinges. Sure, he had gone up to about two packs or so of cigarettes a day, but he wasn't about to start yelling at Ryosuke yet again about what an incredible asshole he had been. Keisuke would like to think that he was above that, but he had already indulged in that early today. Ryosuke and him had been at each other's throats when they remembered too; sometimes being brothers was just so second nature that they had ended up working together in prepping the cars for tonight despite the fact they were going to be racing against each other. Keisuke had forgotten to hate Ryosuke somewhere between changing his tires and needing help with the alignment. His older brother, however, had remained cold and incredibly distant, even more quiet than usual this week ever since he came back from returning Takumi's keys. Ryosuke didn't tell him what had happened then, and Keisuke figured it would be a while before he ever heard the other side of the story.

Takumi hadn't shown up ever since that horrible morning at the restaurant... at least for what part had actually been sitting down for breakfast. Keisuke had tried calling his friend, had wanted to try and work things out, but he had only gotten Takumi's dad on the phone. That old shithead certainly wasn't letting Takumi take any calls, even though he kept on saying things like Takumi was out on delivery or with friends, Keisuke knew for a fact that Takumi didn't have any other friends than those on Project D. Takumi didn't have a social life- or at least that had been what he had thought before the younger and quiet man had revealed that he had been doing so much more than simply racing with the other drivers that had challenged him before. God, Keisuke still couldn't get over the fact that Shino and Takumi had actually had more than had a conversation- they had fucked.

Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it. Keisuke told himself fiercely, shaking his head to rid it of such thoughts. Ever since he had last seen Takumi, Keisuke's thoughts had done nothing but stew and twist around until he wasn't really sure if they really were just friends. He wanted to punch Ryosuke in his nose for pissing Takumi off. He was jealous as all hell that his brother had gotten there first. It wasn't fair, since he had been Takumi's friend long before Ryosuke. Hell, those two didn't even really talk, just Ryosuke ordering Takumi around and the Hachi-Roku driver meekly following directions.

"Fuck!" Keisuke yelled out, getting an odd look from his brother. He just couldn't stop himself from starting to think like some jilted lover, left behind for someone better. It just burned all the more that the person was his brother. Nothing had ever been able to drive a wedge between them before, not for very long at least, but Keisuke couldn't help thinking of killing his older brother ever minute of the day. The Initial D team was definitely breaking apart over this, Takumi hadn't shown up for almost a full week now, and there was no sign of Ryosuke cheering up. The bastard was even colder and more intense than usual.

"Heh, um," Keisuke started to explain, but he might as well have not of bothered. His brother was already walking off toward his FD, clearly ignoring Keisuke and leaving him to his own devices. Not just being taken for a fool, but getting clearly dismissed after it was more than Keisuke could take. He needed this race to start right now, so he could shove a win right under Ryosuke's nose. They'd see just who was the better man then.

Keisuke would have hit himself if it wouldn't have made him look even crazier than he was already appearing. This didn't matter; it wasn't a race between the both of them to see who would get Takumi in the end! Keisuke just wanted to protect his best friend from the rest of the team before they did anything more damaging than what Ryosuke had already accomplished. It didn't matter! He was straight, after all. Right? Right?! The questioning sounded desperate even in his own head, and there was no answer. Keisuke couldn't even defend himself after a while. Depressing.

The rest of the team seemed just as tense as him, but it was with a different kind of energy. It was clear that they were all excited and ready to go, every one of the other drivers of the team actually thinking that they might stand a chance. Hadn't they been on the same team for years now? They should certainly no better than to think that the Takahashi brothers were going to have anything but flawless victory. They were the leaders, after all. Still, it was times like these that Keisuke's didn't so much appreciate being the number two Redsuns member. That high position had gotten them into trouble, because of course everyone was going to notice just whom Ryosuke chose to screw. Keisuke doubted that this would have ever come to such a nasty boil if Ryosuke had just managed to keep his fly zipped up. Now everyone figured Takumi was ready, willing, and on the rebound as a secondhand relationship Ryosuke was already done with. Clearly things weren't going to be settling down any time soon, if Takumi kept on staying away from the Initial D team. Keisuke couldn't blame him, but he had thought sending Ryosuke over there would help straighten things out. Apparently it had only made everything worse.

If such was possible. Every time Keisuke thought they had hit rock bottom, someone threw him a pickaxe. This week had seriously been one of the worst in his entire life, and there had been no let-up either. Just bad shit after more bad shit. He had always thought that Ryosuke was the responsible one, but he showed just how uncaring his was throughout this whole ordeal. Even now he was back to ignoring Keisuke, as he had been practicing all this week, and was speaking with Kenta about how the race was going to be run.

Drivers were standing in front of their cars, crawling in under open hoods, the street lamps casting everything in a sick, twisted showroom light for this evening. Smaller groups of friends that had come to watch were speaking in hushed tones to each other, the pressure in the air repressing any sort of loud conversation.

It was getting close to ten o'clock; the usual time that they started any of the races. Keisuke couldn't stop pacing, couldn't stop smoking, couldn't stop glaring at his brother as the man walked about looking just as cold and unaffected as ever. This really was hell in a handbag, a few engines echoing in the background as they climbed up to the starting line. Nothing like an audience to make things interesting. Keisuke just hoped that the rest of the team wouldn't let this crowd go to their heads. Keisuke didn't need to add more grief to what was already the biggest fucking snafu he had ever been involved in. He was going to kill Ryosuke after tonight, plain and simple.

The few final cars and audience members were slowly finding their places, engines revving in the last countdown. Keisuke tossed down the filter of yet another finished cigarette, pulling out another when he heard the distinctive sound of the Hachi-Roku's ancient engine. Keisuke looked down at the end of the road in surprise to see the familiar, small, white car come crawling uphill around the last curve before the parking lot. Ryosuke was suddenly staring down at the other end of the parking lot as well, a muscle on his jaw jumping around in his cheek. Keisuke sneered at his brother, figuring that he was still on better terms with Takumi than Ryosuke. Even though he hadn't been able to actually talk to Takumi since his dad and scared him off the property.

Shit. Keisuke kicked the ground, grinding his teeth as he waited for the Hachi-Roku to finally pull up to them. Of course, the galleries were already starting to hum with conversation and gossip at the appearance of the ancient car; the people in there obviously aware of just what was the prize. Keisuke was just as taken aback as their audience that Takumi had actually shown up. Keisuke had been sure there Takumi just wouldn't have been able to stand there with everyone watching and waiting for the moment to see who was going to be his new 'best friend.' It was just as well that Reiji and Sora had been avoiding him and Ryosuke, because Keisuke would have killed those fucking assholes before now for messing things up so badly. Now it would probably be a miracle if a Fujiwara ever talked to him normally again. He couldn't even make out the Takumi's expression as he drove up- the floodlights overhead reflecting silver-white off the windshield, hiding the driver. Keisuke had nothing to do but turn around and lean into the driver's side of his car as he tried to look like he was busy with something. He heard the car brake gently, gears shift into park, and the engine died.

"Fujiwara, what are you... doing?" Ryosuke had started out sounding very irritated and flustered, but it tapered down into a confused whisper. Ryosuke never whispered. Keisuke looked away from his busy work to see his worst nightmare step out from the Hachi-Roku. Fujiwara senior stood up straight, the commonplace cigarette dangling from his lips as he looked around slowly at the gathered crowd. Even Keisuke had to gasp, expecting Takumi to at least show up, but certainly not his dad! All the other drivers, supporters, and watchers all stared at the obviously out-of-place and over-the-hill old man that had come out into the middle of this event. Ryosuke's shocked face was almost worth all the drama and angst that had been going on for the past couple of days amongst the team.

Bunta Fujiwara surveyed the very silent galleries, a few people beginning to whisper in surprise, trying to figure out if someone just might know what the hell was going on right now. He spotted Ryosuke, not even sparing Keisuke a second glance despite scaring him off the property earlier this week. The older man walked forward with a sort of confidence that few racers had, and even fewer racers could even back up. The sad thing was, Keisuke knew that the older driver could back it. If Takumi was his son and everyone considered him a monster on four wheels, Keisuke hated to think what the man would be like on the roads. He had heard the rumors, had talked to a few people who had actually known Fujiwara as an older racer who had once dominated Japan's street-racing scene. It was enough to make him hesitant, and since Keisuke was pretty honest with himself- a little bit scared. Bunta could easily wipe the floor with any of them, but why would he show up for a race with his son as the prize? It just didn't make any sense.

"Are you little shits ready to start this race or what?" Bunta snapped out at Ryosuke as soon as he was within shouting distance of the Redsuns' rest area. Ryosuke looked over at Keisuke in a little bit of helplessness before he took a few steps forward to met Takumi's dad face to face. Keisuke, along with the rest of the team, could only watch in apprehensive silence. Keisuke couldn't even light up another cigarette, he was so nervous. Just what the hell was Takumi's dad planning to do? Keisuke didn't mind just standing by and watching if the older man was going to try and kick his brother's ass for messing around with his son. Ryosuke deserved it, being the arrogant asshole of the family. Even worse than good old pops, but both brothers preferred not to speak of him.

Sora and Reiji both looked up over the hoods of their cars parked a few feet away as Ryosuke and Bunta faced off. Keisuke felt like he was watching a bad Western movie, the townsfolk silent as they all watched the two desperados getting ready to fight. All they needed was a tumbleweed to go through the parking lot and everything would be perfect. Keisuke swallowed around a throat that had suddenly gone very, very dry, wishing that there was a beer somewhere around here. Ryosuke seemed perfectly fine, lighting up the cigarette that Keisuke didn't dare to in front of Takumi's dad. A collective gasp went through the crowd that was watching, other kids their age unable to believe that the leader of Redsuns would be so disrespectful to an older man.

"You do know what we're racing for," Ryosuke drawled, raising an eyebrow up at Takumi's father like the man was an idiot. Keisuke winced and grunted, waiting for the explosion. Sadly enough, he was happy that his stupid and honest brother hadn't come right out and said that they were racing for rights to Takumi's ass. He had heard Takumi talk about his dad getting violent before, and Keisuke had definitely believed it when the man had caught him messing around with his son. Just what would he think when he found out all the kids standing by their cars were planning on racing? They might even have to do two sets out of sheer respect for numbers and how wide the road was.

"If any of you want near my son, you're going to have to go through me first," Bunta made it loud enough for everyone observing without actually yelling. Keisuke was glad then that Takumi wasn't there, because the poor guy probably would have died from embarrassment. Still, it was nice to have a parent that was actually in the country and wanted to protect his son, even if he was some prejudiced jerk-off making an ass of himself in front of all of Takumi's friends. Keisuke coughed and turned around to look at the people assembled behind him, most of them his friends since they had all gotten their licenses and first started to mess around with street racing. There were a few guys he didn't like, but that was a given. None of these guys could really be considered Takumi's friend other than through the association that Keisuke was his friend, and Ryosuke was... well, Keisuke wasn't sure what Ryosuke was to Takumi other than a complete fuck-off, no pun intended.

"So, I assume that you will be participating as well, then?" Ryosuke might as well of been listing off a prescription at the office. Keisuke groaned and managed to keep from slapping his forehead in frustration. Bunta looked a little taken back; obviously just here to scare the shit out of them as Ryosuke took a self-satisfied drag from his cigarette. They both exhaled twin clouds of smoke to drift up lazily into the night sky, a grown man...and a guy who had made Keisuke eat mud when they were been younger. Keisuke had no desire to go save his brother from this mess, since Ryosuke had made it all by himself. He should have tried thinking a little harder before he just screwed Takumi. He might as well take the transmission out the FD before the race started. Keisuke had suspected that this race was just going to mess things up further, but now that Takumi's dad had decided to get involved.... He wasn't so sure that they should go through with the race now.

"You're damn straight I am. Are you little pissants ready to start this?" Takumi's father demanded right back, much older than them but somehow managing to be right on their level. Keisuke didn't really like the guy. He didn't like the few stories Takumi would tell some times. He didn't like the fact that the old man was challenging them when he had been touting homosexual-slander earlier. Why had he suddenly become protective of his son now? It was too little too late, in Kesiuke's opinion; just like his own mom and dad. Why were parents so fucking lazy these days? The crowd's murmuring grew louder at the adult cursing and giving them attitude for running a little race. They didn't know that he was the race's stakes father.

"Well, then, its time," Kenji interrupted them; earning three sets of glares that he immediately turned his back to.

"RACERS, TO YOUR CARS!" Kenji yelled it out in a blasting voice that filled up the whole parking lot over the gossiping and engines roaring. It was impressive, really, how such an average guy could be so damn loud. It was the reason why he was their starting man. Keisuke had insisted on it really, trying to make sure that as many drivers as possible were out. He hadn't had time to tell Sora and Reiji what bodily harm awaited them if they dared to participate- along with most of the team standing around feeling excited. Everyone was ready to go, more people than Keisuke would have liked. He began grumbling under his breath, sure that the winner would either be him or his brother but not fond of how many people had showed up to participate all the same. Keisuke started walking toward his car when he realized that Ryosuke wasn't following.

His brother was still glaring death at Takumi's old man, who was returning the look with just as much vehemence. He had never seen Ryosuke act like this before, some twenty-five plus punk who no longer had respected for adults; because he was one now. Bunta just sneered at Ryosuke, as if the guy's mere existence disgusted him, before suddenly the staring match by turning on his heel and marching over to the familiar Hachi-Roku. The tension oozed out of the air just as quickly as it had come to life, leaving Keisuke to stand there and wonder just what the hell was going on. This was certainly the craziest night of his life.

***

Bunta sniffed at the lone kid going to stand at the end of the line, ridiculously plain in sneakers and a blue T-shirt. In his day, there would be a woman to signal the start of the race, nice curves and tight-fitting pants or if they were lucky, a miniskirt. He tapped the top of the box of cigarettes, lazily pulling one out as the boy began counting down in loud, nasal tones. Bunta depressed the burner inside the car; the small cigarette icon staring happily back at him as it began to warm up. He wasn't going to roll the window down to let out the smoke, not about to have air slow him down. It was one thing that Takumi would ever actually get his voice up about, complaining of the smell of cigarette smoke in his car. It was enough to make him want to slap the boy, if he wasn't so pleased that the mute idiot had actually said something. The boy wasn't right in the head, which was all the more reason to put a quick end to this business. Bunta wasn't going to let Takumi get passed around like some sort of street prize- like his mother had done for a brief while. Not that it would really matter, since he was sure to win before this little shit standing in his headlights even got to `two.' Bunta just wanted to make sure to blow all of these arrogant brats out of the water.

Especially that Takahashi.

Bunta hated the brothers equally, no doubt; one just too damn smart-mouthed and cocky for his own good, the other trying to forcibly push his son up against the wall of his own store. He was horribly depressed at that thought, wishing that his son would have least fought back. He didn't raise Takumi to be some girly-man; lisping and flirting like a goddamn girl! He still had some things to stew over with his delinquent son, not sure when everything had gotten so out of control. Bunta didn't want to be trying to imagine his son in some gay partnership if in case of the one in ten hundred million chance that someone else won this race. He'd be damned if his son were a bottom. Being homosexual was bad enough.

"GO!" was the signal to start, and an impressive number of cars for the small mountain road screamed to life. Bunta hit the gas as well, lazily accelerating with his older eighty-six while several shiny, plastic-looking cars roared around him. Everyone was racing for a good starting position, trying to somehow muscle into the front. As if that would do them any good once the turns started coming up. Bunta wasn't particular concerned about the number of cars that managed to get ahead of him- all the more fun when he passed those same vehicles. It was a short run with a good many cars getting stuck behind him because Akina simply didn't allow more than two cars at a time- on other occasions, barely even one. Those poor bastards had already lost at that point as the street narrowed down into the first wide curve. Bunta knew this road, dreamed about this pass, had run it more times in his life than anyone could even begin to imagine. The only thing that made this particularly interesting was that there were other people to beat. It had been so damn long since he had been able to run against other people. Racing was in his blood, had been sleeping for so long that he was about ready to piss himself with excitement.

The burner popped at the same time he slid into the first corner. He knew the line-suddenly slingshot out of the corner with more speed than the old odometer could catch up with so quickly. He spun the wheel, positioning the tires to drift perfectly out of the corner and around a small green Honda with ease. He knew the Hachi-Roku could take it from there, letting one hand go down to pull out the red-hot lighter. He held it up to the end of his cigarette, lighting up before he yanked the steering wheel back the other way. To the untrained eye it might have even looked like Bunta was fishtailing out of control, about to collide with the rail.... Before he simply floated through the curve, the car's engine roaring with delight at finally being set free. Takumi still didn't know all the points to this car, how to let the Hachi-Roku truly fly down Mount Akina. Bunta did, as the g-force slammed him up against the door, turning so fast that the car was on the verge of flipping over as he wicked forced it through the turn. The people watching from the gallery on that corner were loud enough to be heard over the engines, cheering wildly for a man that was probably three times their age. He wondered if these kids even knew what everyone else was racing for.

If it had been any other sort of situation, one that perhaps involved girls, Bunta would have been proud that there were this many people after his son.

His ride was still limited by the fact that there were cars to dodge. Bunta came around the first hairpin turn and nearly plowed into the rear bumper of some stupid kid crab-stepping around the corner. He braked hard, losing precious momentum, and had to wait behind a car that had a goddamn bumper sticker on it before he could finally push through the exit of the turn and get ahead. The Hachi-Roku might not have superior acceleration compared to any of the new models, but they were going downhill and Bunta knew exactly how to take this road. He could do it with his eyes closed, not even needing his vision to know when the small straightaway ended and went into consecutive corners. A hard left, right, left, each turn almost a complete one-eighty back down the mountain. He had the pleasure of passing yet more one car, frowning as he slowly realized each and every one of these punks was out for a piece of his son. Bunta stepped down on the accelerator until his foot touched the metal of the floor, taking a frustrated hit from the cigarette as he let the front tires slip into the gutter at last. Bunta resisted the urge to wave at the little bitch in an S-13 as ricocheted through the inside curve with what they must think was amazing speed. Bunta wasn't very satisfied after being forced to break earlier, making him lose precious momentum. Tires popped back out and he was heading down the road so fast that the inside of the vehicle starting shaking hard, the dashboard vibrating against the windshield.

The road was clear after that. Bunta had a feeling that he had passed the main crowd, wondering if there were going to be any more cars. He frowned, wishing that he could have been sure to pass those Takahashi boys, almost depressed at the same time that they had just faded in with the rest of the group. If they had an interest in his son, he would have at least thought they would be somewhat decent drivers. It was just disappointment after disappointment for him, exhaling a large cloud of smoke tiredly. He was too old to change his ways, to just accept all this without saying a thing. Why couldn't Takumi have just stayed with that nice Mogi girl? She was familiar, well mannered, and most importantly, had two breasts and wore a skirt.

Bunta drifted into the next turn, the right headlight brushing dangerously close to the guardrail. The tires screamed and the wheel jerked underneath his hands, wanting to spin out of control instead of going through the harsh line Bunta was taking. He hit the bushes overhanging the side of the road, slung around the corner, and a yellow FD filled his vision. The red brake lights flared up as the driver dove into the hairpin turn that followed, wheels spinning as he went into the next curve in the road. Bunta watched for a moment, somewhat impressed at the way the kid put his car through the turn. He wasn't just some rich kid with lots of money to spend on a newer, better-equipped model; he had the skill to drive it too. But, whoever was driving was still just a kid. Bunta could have had his feet kicked out the window and hands behind his head for how much effort it took to muscle in side-by-side on the two-way road, two engines roaring as they both fought for the leader. The driver tried to hit the gas, but it was already too late by the time Bunta had gone past and positioned himself for the following corner. That poor yellow car was nothing but headlights in his rearview mirror, completely gone by the time Bunta hit the second set of sequential hairpin turns. He smiled, loving the rush that was growing each time he went past another car, forgetting what it had been like to actually race. He missed it; had only been running against his best time for so long that it was delightful to have other people on the road. It was almost a sad thing that it was unlikely to be very many more cars by this time. He was already halfway down the mountain, cruising fairly well- if not about to beat any personal records. This would be good enough considering how long it had been since his last race.

He finally pulled up on what must be the last car ahead of him, a silver FC with an admirable amount of skill. The driver was taking the best line in a professional manner, calculated, cold. Bunta immediately that this must be the doctor's older son, grinding his teeth at the talent he had to recognize. That bastard was actually a good driver, probably a little bit above Takumi at this point. It wasn't good enough to be a real contender. Bunta resisted the desire to honk the horn as he settled in behind the vehicle spinning through the first turn with something that almost resembled a graceful dance. It had been a while since Bunta had seen a nice solid drift like that; even the professionals on broadcasted TV were sloppy these days. He started whistling appreciatively as the little ass snapped the car around for the next one- and belatedly remembered that he hated the driver. He wasn't supposed to be impressed with the mediocre skill the guy was showing right now. That Takahashi kid still had too much lip and attitude, certainly going to be in charge of the relationship if Bunta didn't do anything.

The Hachi-Roku was definitely under-muscled and aged compared to the FC snug against the guardrail overlooking the drop-off side of the mountain. That still didn't stop him from taking the inside. He waited for the other car to flip out as they begin to drift side by side, unlikely to ever have experience with driving this close to another vehicle before. Nothing happened, both of them thundering down the pass without the guy even flinching. Either he had balls of steel or was just stupid. Bunta didn't like those options, about ready to kill the other driver. Nobody was going to get his son without a fight. He waited for an opening, for a chance to pull just one pinch ahead of the other car- and was unable to find it. Bunta hated it, actually being challenged for these few seconds as they continued down the hill at an insane pace. He shifted up, the engine revving and more than ready to pop ahead of this silver rig...and unable to.

The duality of the next turn was almost frightening. Bunta hadn't ever been able to get so close to some rank amateur before, their side mirrors almost touching- but he could trust this guy. The driver did have the talent and enough experience for Bunta to take out his almost-finished cigarette and left it to burn in the ashtray. He wanted to concentrate, narrowing his eyes down at the bushes flashing by in his headlights. Tires skidded along surface he'd been driven over for years, before this kid was even and itch in his father's pants...and he was still being out-driven. Bunta would have been impressed if it didn't stir up that competitive spirit so much. The straightaway following the turn was a mess of both of them pulling ahead by a hairbreadth, being matched by the other car, passed, and then pulling forward again. Brakes were only there for decoration from that point on, Bunta using nothing but the subtle shifting of weight to slide into the gutter yet again. It galled him beyond all reason to see the FC keeping up equally; their positions now switched by the curve of the road but Bunta still not pulling again. Even on the outside this driver able to correct and find another line to take, with a fearless quality that bordered on insanity. It was like seeing a young him-...

...Somehow in the pure white rage that followed the single endearment he had dared thought, Bunta passed the other car. His rearview mirror was a bar of white light, the kid practically breathing down his neck, but still too late. Bunta was ahead now, and there wasn't a goddamn thing anyone could do. Bunta steadily pulled away after that, the race over but the blood rushing around in his head had yet to calm. How the hell could he admire the guy who had given it to his son? Hell, that Takahashi brat was probably the reason why Takumi had turned gay in the first place! Sure, his son had pretty face, but he should be using that to catch girls, not chasing around after boys! Didn't he see the simple difference in equipment? People of the same sex weren't supposed to have sex with each other; human beings just hadn't been made that way, pure and simple. It was some childhood trauma-case or some serial killer that already had problems that were gay, in Bunta's mind. Through some fault of the parents... He almost wished he hadn't talked to Bunichi about this. It was almost too painful to cover. Somehow he had screwed up, had simply been a bad parent to Takumi. He wouldn't have turned out like this otherwise. Takumi had been his responsibility from day one, and Bunta intended to take care of this problem quickly.

It was simple and boring from the next turn on, the FC no longer in his mirrors, nothing ahead of him but a gay son waiting at home. The little joy he had found in winning this race drained out of him rather quickly. He hated being adult, forced into growing up and having a responsibility before he could even legally drink. He looked ten years older than he really was, never had a chance to fuck around and enjoy life. And Jesus Christ, he wanted Takumi to have that opportunity. It didn't matter if the kid didn't go to college. He didn't have the head for that sort of thing, and Bunta didn't have the money. It was enough for him to know that Takumi enjoyed cars, won street racers regularly, and still woke up every morning to do the deliveries. It was a simple enough life that they were both happy with, since Takumi just wasn't the type that could manage if he lived by himself and Bunta was still trying to make up for his own life through Takumi. They fought a bit, which was to be expected when it was just two men in a house and no woman around to soften the edges. Bunta regretted never finding someone to replace her as Takumi's mother, wondering if that might have made a difference now. Love was a tricky thing that left its victims worse off than dead. He didn't want Takumi to have to go through that; hell; the kid already spent enough time in his room already.

It was hell on earth to pull over to the side of the road at the bottom of the pass, mount Akina nothing but a darker shadow looming behind him in the middle of the night. He put on the emergency lights, grumbling as he gathered up the cigarettes and hit the burner in for yet another. Bunta opened up the door to let in some of the night air; a little bit cold now that the sun had gone down, but the bugs were still humming like it was the middle of the afternoon. He could distantly catch the scream of tires and engines still straining down the hill even though they had already lost. That was sportsmanship for you. He waited, the well-lit street only a few feet away. He could just drive off and forget this whole madness, if he knew that it wouldn't make the kid really upset. The lighter popped and Bunta lit up before stepping out of the car. Despite it all, Bunta hated to see his son upset. These Takahashi brothers were the cause of it too, but there was no time for delicacies right now. He had already made the decision to go through with this.

The FC that had been giving him trouble before came around the corners; lights flashing as the driver caught sight of the Hachi-Roku pulled over. The car ended up slowing down a little bit after where he was already parked, the finely tuned engine turning off. The door popped open and out stepped that dark-haired punk from before. Riding in the same car as this arrogant SOB had nearly killed Bunta, but he had to tip his hat to how well the guy could drive. He had a confidence that didn't belong to someone of his age, stepping out of the car in a way that resembled a cop. Everything about this one was stiff and poised, making Bunta wonder again just what his son could possibly see in this character. There was no way in hell the two could compliment each other, and Bunta didn't like the way this guy had such a controlling and aggressive air around him, almost making Bunta wonder if he should fight as the Takahashi approached.

"Sir," the kid greeted as he finally came to stand in front of him, his name already hopelessly lost to Bunta. It wasn't like he cared to memorize it in the first place. He was wearing a pair of slacks and a white, button-up T-shirt that was slightly loose and ruffled; like he had been at an office job all day and went to race afterward. Bunta glared at him, wondering if the idiot was trying to get in his good favors simply by being polite. He wondered yet again what Takumi might possibly have to gain from a relationship with this guy. He glared at the Takahashi from head to foot, wishing that he'd be lucky enough to see the homosexual jerk burst into unholy flames.

"I can see where Takumi gets it from," he drawled out in a deep voice, and Bunta wasn't sure just how the kid meant that statement to be taken. If he was talking about driving, that was one thing, but if he was trying to drop some sort of smart-assed opinion about his son's sexuality, it was another matter altogether. He shook his head at the Takahashi, determined not to get angry. He was here to fix things, damn it, before Takumi ruined his whole life.

"Your drifting was excellent. Magnificent, really," the Takahashi complimented him, and Bunta found it hard to be angry when the kid was being so honest. Though, he would have liked it if he had chosen different words. If he could have just sounded not so gay. Well, at the very least, he could recognize a superior driver. Bunta just grunted in agreement, checking back up the road as if he didn't have any business with this guy at all. Once again, it slipped back into the relative silence that the city found at night, most kids going to sleep and done causing trouble for the adults today. He wished he could guess this man's age, the confidence and authority that he carried himself with enough to make anyone look twice. He wanted to just peg this guy as some idiot that didn't deserve the time it took to remember his name; and yet also found himself impressed with the driving skill. It wasn't the type that came along every day. Takumi was good, but Bunta had made certain of that from the first time he'd put the bovine-eyed kid behind the wheel.

"So, is something wrong with your car?" the Takahashi finally asked, leaning to the side to look at the emergency lights in explanation. He was being so friendly that Bunta had the vague sense of dealing with a cars salesman, smooth and obviously had a second agenda at stake.

"No, but I wanted to talk out the details of me winning this race," Bunta growled back menacingly. Those dark, guarded eyes widened a bit, giving Bunta the small satisfaction of being able to surprise the punk. Bunta certainly well wasn't going to go about screwing his own child, so he deserved a little bit of extra compensation for winning.

"What would those be, Mr. Fujiwara?" the punk asked, using his name like a weapon. This wasn't just any battle of wills, not with this Takahashi. He wasn't the type to easily bend to anything, which was going to make this all so much harder. Why couldn't Takumi just like girls?! It was so simple, so easy; Bunta wouldn't have to be trying to smooth out his son's personal life himself otherwise.

"Let's wait for your brother before I begin," Bunta suggested instead, crossing his arms and exhaling a large cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. They both sighed and glared at each other for being so alike, nothing but the darkness on the side of the road around them. There were no more smart comments after that, and Bunta was thankful for that. He might end up beating the shit out of this jerk before he even got to set this plan into action. There was another long stretch of silence between both of them, neither about to borrow with small talk. Bunta was finally about to end it with a comment about how Takumi was probably too dumb to even know what this guy was about before the Takahashi turned around for no apparent reason. He looked up the hill expectantly and Bunta grunted when a new set of headlights appeared in distance. Now his hearing was going. Fucking fabulous.

"Speak of the devil," the kid commented smartly as the yellow FD that had given Bunta a little bit of trouble came into view. Bunta couldn't help but be surprised, not expecting both brothers to be somewhat skilled. It almost made it more troublesome as the car blew past loudly, ruffling what little hair Bunta had left. He felt so damn old at that point, listening to the new kid slam on the brakes and throw up the emergency ones as well, spinning right back around. The car pulled up slowly beside them in contrast to the speed he had come up, the driver's window going down slowly.

"Damn, new record, bro," the younger man that had been pushing Takumi up against the wall the other day yelled over his radio playing much too loudly. He still had that same horrible dye job as Bunta remembered, deepening the ache that was forming between his eyes. The kid finally turned down the fast-paced, electronic music down, the bass slowly fading as he waited for one of them to respond. Bunta didn't have anything to say other than to say `get a damn haircut,' so he wisely just waited it out.

"What's goin' on?" the kid finally asked when the two older people shook their heads at him. This was definitely the worse choice of the two, though Bunta preferred that this wasn't the case at all.

"You two, follow me," Bunta ordered tiredly, turning back to his own car. He tossed his finished cigarette down to the pavement, climbing back inside the Hachi-Roku and pulling his seatbelt on. He waited for the older Takahashi to get into his own vehicle while his brother pulled back around yet again. They formed a nice little caravan as Bunta started up the engine, ready to go home and settle this once and for all.

***

Takumi eventually had to pee. He only had to press his ear back up against the door, not moving far from where he'd been sitting for who knew how long. He had been too frightened to leave that spot even to just move around his room, to make even the slightest noise, but now basic bodily functions took over. There was no sounds from downstairs, so Takumi carefully stood up and twisted the doorknob open. He pulled the door open, peeking his head around the darkened hallway to the end of the stairs. It didn't even sound like the tv was on, so Takumi carefully slid over to the bathroom. He was quick about his business, not even bothering to wash his hands after daring to flush the toilet before darting back inside his own small bedroom. He actually went down to sit on the edge of his mattress this time, feeling like he had already made too much noise...but nothing happened afterward. More silence, quiet. Eventually Takumi fell onto his back, feet hanging over the edge as he stared up at the ceiling.

Why did Ryosuke have to be so serious and unreadable? Why did Keisuke have to be so friendly but unpredictable at the same time? Why did he only get in trouble for it, those brothers somehow managing to make his life worse and better at the same time? Takumi bit his lip, waiting for some thought process to start. He should be able to figure out something that would just solve the mess his life had become! He threw an arm over his eyes, sighing and actually trying to sort things out in his head for once.

Point one- Ryosuke was good in bed, no matter how much Takumi wanted to forget it had ever happened in the first place. He didn't always hit the right spot, but being all the more powerful for it.

Minus point-Takumi had ruined it with getting sick on the front lawn from the dinner and wine Ryosuke had bought. He couldn't help think about how damn expensive it was to simply puke up that fancy dinner because his cheap, tofu-accustomed stomach couldn't handle it. He had thrown up yet again after Keisuke had shown up, but that was more from complete embarrassment.

Takumi wheezed out a large breath, knowing that his shitty old man would kill him for even thinking about this.

Point two- Keisuke was being so damn nice to him right now. Everyone else was giving Takumi the eye, making him feel even more out of place than when he had first joined the project Ryosuke had put together; but Keisuke was still his friend. It might just be because Keisuke was pretty much easy-going, just like him, not really caring about what other people did because frankly, it was their life. Takumi already had enough of his own going on, not even sure if he was ever going to be allowed back in the light of day ever again. The old man had seemed pretty pissed off this time, barely holding back from violence just because they had guests over. He couldn't imagine any other reason for why his dad would suddenly be so understanding after slapping him for slightly admitting to being gay.

Minus point- he still didn't know exactly what the old man had said to Kesiuke after he had told him to get inside. As if being found pressed up against a wall by your father wasn't embarrassing enough, he had been ordered back inside like some kid that couldn't handle himself...and sadly enough, it was true. Takumi wished again that he had been born smarter, somehow able to sense these horrible things coming at him. If he could be calculating just like Ryosuke; or not even care about it like Keisuke. They were both so much more together than he could ever be. Takumi just drifted, unable to find anything in life that could engage his full attention- other than being behind the wheel of his Hachi-Roku. When it came to dealing with people, Takumi failed on a regular basis. Everything else was just one screw-up after another, from his choice of friends, bad grades, even to the gender of his lovers. That was probably the reason why ever personal relationship Takumi tried to get into ended screwed up to all hell. He should be used to this; always growing apart from anyone he had sex with. He was always so damned naive, thinking that some physical act meant that he could finally share a little bit of his life with his partner. Takumi had been stupid enough to start talking after the sex, saying everything he usually kept inside... and ended up creating a huge distance between them. Takumi wasn't even sure how he did it himself, but the trail of ruined friendships was evidence enough.

It had just been really quick this time with Ryosuke. Takumi didn't even have a chance to start messing things up by having a conversation; he had been busy puking his guts out in the toilet. It had to be the most embarrassing night of his life, all his fault because there was no way Ryosuke could have messed things up. The guy was a genius, for crying out loud! Takumi turned his head into the sheets covering his bed, remembering yet another reason why Ryosuke shouldn't be with him. What could he possibly have to make a handsome, intelligent, and proud guy interested in him? Ryosuke was the son of a doctor in a famous hospital, Takumi was doomed to take over his father's tofu shop. It was a Cinderella story if he had ever heard one, and Takumi didn't really like it at all.

Pathetic much? Takumi asked himself with a smirk, only able to laugh. If only he could bring himself to care just a little bit more, he might possibly have the energy to kill himself. Until then, it was just moping around in his room, waiting for his father's good graces to finally come around. Takumi couldn't even summon up the freewill to move after scurrying to the bathroom like a frightened mouse. He wished he had a hobby, an interest outside driving. Just sitting behind the wheel, completely in control of the vehicle, senses heightened and blood racing as he tried to go faster- faster...Takumi actually was alive then. Outside of the Hachi-Roku, he didn't really feel interested in anything. Sometimes he would even turn the radio on, for once feeling so happy and free that he wanted to hear music.

He numbly realized he didn't have a favorite band. Not even a type of music. Takumi didn't really enjoy anything enough to actually call it a `favorite.' Just the silence of the house that seemed to stretch on forever... Takumi began to miss his shitty old man, wishing that his dad would be downstairs with the television blasting like usual; a comfort that Takumi didn't even know he used to until just then. He was so sick of being alone, always drifting around from person to person but never finding anyone who stayed. He missed Itsuki, everyone at the gas station. Takumi wondered just how awkward it would be if he went to visit them.

Takumi heard the Hachi-Roku in the distance, the only sound that really mattered to him. He was immediately a mix of emotion, eager to see his car come home; and fearful as well, because that would mean his old man would be returning as well. Takumi didn't go to look out his window, content to listen as the car slowly pulled up...and frowning as he noticed two other very distinct engines. He immediately froze, feeling faintly ill and truly ready to die from embarrassment.

"No way," Takumi whispered up to the ceiling, unable to believe it. He did have to run to the window then, throwing aside the curtain to stare down in disbelief at the FC and FD following behind the Hachi-Roku. Why were Ryosuke and Keisuke coming back to the house along with his dad? Takumi gaped, his stomach clawing its way up his throat as he watched the three cars slowly park, the white Trueno going into the driveway while the other two took either side of the street. He could only watch in horror as the two brothers stepped out of their cars, not knowing how much he had missed them until he finally got to see them again. Ryosuke was looking stiff and irritated as usual, likely angry about losing to his father. Keisuke was just himself in shorts and a logo t-shirt, swinging his keys around before shoving them in his pocket. They were all oblivious to him spying on them as Ryosuke and Keisuke walked into the shop behind his old man. Takumi couldn't even begin to image why they were there as he heard the muffled noise of the door opening and people coming in.

"Takumi, get down here!" his old man's voice roared up the stairs and hallway, making Takumi flinch despite it all. He slowly pulled away from the window, opening up his door and shuffling down to meet his fate. He didn't even try to think of what could possibly happen next, just knowing that he would probably be miserable no matter what. Either his father was going to end up hating him, or Keisuke and Ryosuke were. Takumi couldn't be a bigger failure if he tried, slowly entering the small living room with his head bowed down. He let his eyes wander around the floor and low wooden table in the center, wincing at how dirty the living room was; piled up with old newspapers and beer cans from his old man's latest binge Takumi regretted not cleaning it up early, certainly not able to look anyone in the face right now. All he saw were feet, three different set of socks in his vision as Takumi simply waited for his punishment.

"Oh, don't look so scared, boy. I won," his father assured him with a laugh, reaching forward and suddenly ruffled up his hair affectionately. Takumi blinked and looked up at that, as his father offered him a moderately uncomfortable smile that was more like a grimace. It was pretty rare to see his shitty old man make any sort of face; and it was also strange to see him sober at night. Takumi shifted his feet, waiting for the rest of that sentence; the usual `you idiot son' or such. But, instead, his father had participated in the race to date him? Takumi couldn't begin to comprehend it. How had the distant, quiet shut-in dinosaur even found out about it? He glanced over at the Takahashi brothers, wondering what they could possibly be thinking while Takumi got a heart-to-heart from his old man.

"Takumi, I'm sorry about earlier. Its going to take some getting used to," Bunta admitted slowly, examining his face with what could only be regret. Takumi dazedly put a hand to his cheek in memory of being slapped, reminded now that his face was probably bruised from daddy slapping him before. Takumi cautiously glanced over to Keisuke, seeing his friend smirk at him in a sad sort-of-way, with a look that promised they would talk about this later...when Takumi wanted to. Keisuke would never force him to share if he didn't really want to, and for that Takumi was thankful. He snuck a quick look at Ryosuke, who didn't even have a single hair out of place as he stood magnificently in the middle of the squalor that was his house. They weren't rich, they weren't clean, and Takumi certainly didn't have anything to give Ryosuke in return for being nice enough to take some interest in him. He looked back to his father at last, just wanting this cruel game to be over with and allowed to go back up into his empty room- where a failure like him belonged.

"I won, so I want you to chose who you want to be with," Bunta announced, waving a hand back at the two brothers. Takumi could only stare, waiting for his father to have a stroke after announcing something so wildly out of character. What could have possibly changed his mind so quickly? Bunta wasn't the type to listen to what other people had to say, to hear the other side of the argument. Once his old man made a decision, he was right and there nothing more said on the matter. The few times Takumi had thought to say differently, he had been punished bad enough to learn to just sit down and shut up. He wasn't supposed to make decisions, he was just supposed to get the deliveries done on time. His shitty old man had all the parental concern of an employer who already was too busy with other things to worry about one individual driver in his shop. Takumi couldn't believe his father worried this much about him; had even participated in that stupid race the rest of the team could come up with. He looked back and forth between his father and the other two drivers in the room, slowly waiting for this dream to end...but it didn't.

Keisuke just gave him a lukewarm grin, obviously uncomfortable but not about to pressure Takumi into anything. He had his hands in his pockets, sniffing and pressing his lips together as if he was smoking an invisible cigarette right then. He had always been such a good friend to Takumi, taking him under his wing and forcing Takumi to talk to the other guys in the Project D. It had been awkward and embarrassing at first, but after a while Takumi found himself to be one of the group, definitely more quiet than the rest of the guys, but his skill and talent behind the wheel made up for that. Keisuke was a honestly nice guy, if a little bit stupid- but even his intelligence far superior to Takumi's. Keisuke just always managed to put him in a good mood, energetic and loud. He drew attention wherever they went because he was simply fun to be around. Keisuke didn't discriminate or judge, but he did have a few things he got pissed about; kind of like Takumi in that respect.

Ryosuke was his complete opposite, glaring hard at Takumi for taking this long to say anything. He had his arms crossed and his posture perfect, only needing a uniform to complete that rigid and official stance. He was ruffled and angry, never one to enjoy anything that was remotely spontaneous. Ryosuke liked everything to be planned out, even had a small paper book where he wrote down the goals of the day and marked them off efficiently when he was finished. Takumi could never be that professional if he tried, wincing as Ryosuke made him feel young and dull-witted all over again. It wasn't fair that Ryosuke was so damn handsome either, classic features and well-combed hair on top of it. Takumi could never compare to someone of Ryosuke's status, still hearing hushed giggling and another version of the legend the White Comet of Akagi had left behind after retiring. He drew women at every meet they went to while Takumi was just starting out in comparison. He was so beneath Ryosuke it was almost laughable.

Takumi looked back to his father, double-checking just in case. Bunta could have just as easily change his mind about this, but his stern and wrinkled face was unreadable as usual. If he didn't make a choice soon he was probably going to get a pop in the head anyway. He sighed, wishing there were a place to hide, wanting someone else to make this choice for him. Takumi scratched at his hair, shuffled his feet, and at his father's tired sigh, spoke his true feelings.

"I...I want both," Takumi announced to Keisuke and Ryosuke's similarly shocked expressions. Bunta raised up an eyebrow, sniffing and turning around to stare at the brothers as well. It was just the honest truth, because Takumi didn't think he could stand losing either of them. He admired Ryosuke because he was so cool and collected all the time; he liked Keisuke for always being an honest companion. How was he supposed to suddenly choose one over the other? Bunta shook his head at his son's selfishness, Takumi wondering for a terrifying moment if he might actually get smacked one in front of his friends.

"Well...alright, then. Why don't you boys go settle this outside? I don't care what happens, but I don't want to hear it," Bunta announced calmly, waving them off. Takumi knew better than to ask one more question, to pause when his father had told him to do something. He quickly padded out of the room and was already headed for the back door before he got yelled at, Ryosuke and Keisuke following behind. He heard Ryosuke pause and say something to his father in that characteristically deep voice of his, and Takumi wanted to scream at him to not disturb the man when he had given them a walk-out-jail-free card! Takumi wasn't going to wait around for his father to build up any steam, figuring it would be nice to have someone else see what Bunta's temper was like first hand. He didn't like to think that he really ran out of the place, but he hit the side of the Hachi-Roku pretty hard as the door clicked shut behind him. Takumi just leaned over the hood, the metal body still hot from the race. It was strange to know that his father had been the last one in the car, had been racing with his friends and had beaten them all. Takumi could only pray that his old man had been typically silent and didn't actually talk to any of them. Anything else could just be painful.

Keisuke was the first to come out, still squirming into his sneakers as he walked up alongside Takumi and easily leaned over the roof of the car. He sighed, raising his eyebrows in a silent greeting before leaning forward and slamming his head against the Hachi-Roku. The rest of the neighborhood was quiet tonight as Keisuke laughed hollowly for a moment, as if he could find something funny in the middle of this all.

"Shit, Takumi...both of us?" Keisuke asked aloud behind the curve of his shoulder; the shock clear in his voice. At least it didn't seem like disappointment, just honest confusion that Takumi had wanted him along with his brother. Hadn't he also ran in the race? Should Takumi not be reading so deeply into this? He really was so stupid, such a dreamer as he realized just how unrealistic he was being. But it was what his heart was telling him to do. He couldn't bare the thought of being without either of them, the awkwardness of this whole week almost unbearable. Takumi hadn't been able to talk to Keisuke or Ryosuke at all.... It had just been horrible. Those two brothers really did make up his life right now, one his best friend and the other his lover; or at least had been.

Ryosuke appeared as if just thinking about him had called him out from the house. Ryosuke came to stand rigidly on the other side of Takumi, crossing his arms- then deciding against it, shoving his hands in his pockets and proceeding to glare at the both of them. Takumi blinked, recognizing a nervous habit but not believing that it could possibly be Ryosuke acting like this. What did he have to be anxious about?! Ryosuke was the most confident person Takumi had ever met, a trait that he was secretly jealous of. He could never just tell anyone else what to do; yet Ryosuke ordered people around all the time. How else was he going to get to keep Ryosuke, because Takumi certainly didn't have much to offer the man himself. He was plain, stupid, and slow; everything that Ryosuke hated. This was probably his only chance to keep something going between them...as much as he had complained afterward, he had liked the night he had gotten to spend privately with Ryosuke. He didn't even care if it was sick or not, if his father approved or not. He had a lot of time to think about it all while being stuck in his room, and he had realized that he cared more about what Ryosuke and Keisuke thought of him than he ever had before with two people.

"I think we should talk. Is there a place to sit down?" Ryosuke took charge of the situation despite it all. Takumi nodded, pushing away from the Hachi-Roku to walk down the side of the house and across the street, to where there was a bench by a bus sign. One single streetlight a few feet off made it the brightest place by far as they all shuffled up to it. They were probably the only people in the neighborhood still awake at this hour. Takumi was used to throwing himself down onto the familiar old wooden bench, waiting through the night for his father to unlock the doors in the morning when he had stayed out past curfew. The only difference was that Ryosuke and Keisuke sat down on either side of him, both of them sighing identically in relief. They had definitely given the race their all, which only made Takumi feel more awkward. He couldn't relax, leaning forward and nervously pressing his legs together. He wasn't sure how to breech the subject, so goddamn dull.

Ryosuke tapped out a cigarette, pulling out an extra one and passing it in front of Takumi's chest. Keisuke took it with a grunt of thanks; popping the filter into his mouth and waiting while Ryosuke pulled out a lighter as well. He passed it to Keisuke first, whom lit up the long white stick eagerly, taking a puff and sending a large cloud up into the night sky. The lighter was passed back and Ryosuke lit his up as well, reflexively holding up his other hand to shield the flame even if there wasn't much of a breeze right now. Takumi wished he smoked right now, so that he could have something to do while the brothers enjoyed their nicotine together. He threaded his fingers together, left wondering how he should start this all. Hadn't he already said enough when he announced he wanted the both of them? Two cherry-red dots glowed as Keisuke and Ryosuke both took another silent hit.

"Fujiwara, you forgot your shoes," Ryosuke said at last, exhaling smoke through his nose the whole time. Takumi looked down at his feet then, a pair of dirty socks with red toes resting on top of the pavement covering them. He was struck dumb by his own utter stupidity, wiggling his feet on the ground in a sudden fit of consciousness, wishing that it could have been anyone other than Ryosuke to notice that first. He really was an idiot, unable to look good in front of the Takahashi brothers, nothing but a failure until the end. He felt Keisuke shift next to him, glancing curiously over at his feet as well.

"Yeah," he muttered back, suddenly feeling so bad; even worse than after his old man had slapped him. He was probably going to have to throw these socks away after walking across the street. It would be worthless to wash them now as Takumi lifted up his foot and stared forlornly down at the black dirt crusting the fabric. He didn't want to get rid of them, never particularly attached to a pair of socks before... but this time, it made him so damn sad. He was so sick of losing things, of it always being his fault because he was so stupid in the first place. He didn't want to lose these socks, or his best friends.

Takumi sniffed, wondering why his eyes were suddenly stinging and his mouth was going dry. He winced as tears streaked down his face, so unfamiliar that he flinched away from the moisture on his cheeks. Takumi couldn't remember the last time he had cried- and he most certainly didn't want to do it in front of the Takahashi brothers. For some reason though, that only made it worse as Takumi began weep quietly despite best efforts.

"Takumi, dude, what's wrong?" Keisuke asked in a worried tone when he noticed Takumi crying. He tried to close his eyes to cut off the flow of water; but it didn't stop. He couldn't stop any more, felt like he was going down Mount Akina without any brakes. He was going to lose the two most important people to him because he was so...damn... stupid! Takumi tried to wipe away some of the tears with his hand and ending up keeping his palm covering his eyes, unable to even face reality at this point. His old man was right: he was nothing more than one big screw-up.

"I just... don't want you guys... to hate me," Takumi sobbed out, doing his best to keep his voice calm when he just wanted to break down. Now that he had started crying, it was almost impossible to stop, everything welling up from inside. He didn't have anyone else left, having already ruined things with Itsuki and Mogi by having sex. The same thing had happened with Ryosuke now as well. He was such an idiot, never able to learn from his mistakes. He really should just do the whole world a favor and die.

"What? Why would we hate you?" Keisuke sounded like he was on the verge of laughing because it was so ridiculous.

"'Cause...with the race- `n all," Takumi muttered, already knowing that he was saying something wrong. He waited for Keisuke to really start laughing at him, for Ryosuke to make some sarcastic remark that Takumi wouldn't even really understand. A car drove by where the road T-boned into a major street. Even though they were in the middle of a huge city, it felt like this bus stop had become cut off from the rest of the world, isolated. Takumi hadn't even been so lonely before in all his life, Keisuke and Ryosuke both sitting a polite, measured distance away from him. Ryosuke was the first to break the silence with heavy sigh, Takumi unable to repress the wince as he tried to hide further behind his hand. He didn't want Ryosuke to see him like this.

"That wasn't your fault," Ryosuke announced harshly at last. There was coughing on Takumi's other side from Keisuke as Takumi just hunched down and waited for worse to come.

"I...I apologize for putting you in that position, Takumi," Ryosuke finally ground out, showing how much it took for him to admit that he was wrong. Much less apologize for something that Takumi thought he had been responsible for. He dropped his hand down, looking over at Ryosuke then to see what his expression was. Even sitting, the man was still taller than Takumi, his serious eyes staring straightforward. He looked like a general about to go to battle, rigid an uncompromising with his hands resting on his legs. Takumi didn't understand how anyone could manage to be so fucking handsome on top of it all, like intellect and a quick wit weren't already enough. Ryosuke was better than Takumi at everything, actually knew what the hell was going on. He didn't deserve an apology from the man. Takumi looked back down at the socks on his feet, torn between accepting the expression of regret or making one of his own.

"Heh... `Position,"" Keisuke echoed with a different sort of intonation afterward, giggling again in childish, teenage humor. Takumi blinked at the orange-haired man for a moment before the double meaning finally hit. Ryosuke's ears actually turned red as he glared at his brother, not so much blushing on his cheeks as his entire face. Takumi had fingers raised to his mouth instinctively in horror, unable to believe that Keisuke had actually had the guts to crack a joke like that. Takumi couldn't even think straight around Ryosuke, but he wasn't related to the guy either.

"Keisuke! I ask you to be serious for just one minute-..." Ryosuke started up with a yell, indignant and red underneath his tan as he twisted around on the bench to dig into Keisuke. Just that upset face was enough to make Takumi laugh aloud along with Keisuke, using his hands to wipe away his tears. This was what he was used to, a friendly, almost familial rapport with them. Takumi felt like he was their brother sometimes, allowed in on the relationship that Keisuke and Ryosuke had. He got to laugh with them too; the worry and fear from the past week clearing up like it had never been there in the first place. Keisuke and Ryosuke didn't hate him; they weren't going to stop talking to him over this whole mess. Takumi could have won the lottery and he wouldn't have been happier. There was a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head in time to run his lips right into Ryosuke's.

Takumi froze up, not even sure how this could have happened, a warm mouth covering his own. He should have resisted kissing Ryosuke right in front of the tofu shop, but Takumi couldn't help it. He had only gotten one night with Ryosuke, and it just wasn't fair. He let his lips open up, sighing he let Ryosuke tongue in. He tasted like harsh peppermint, realizing that the former leader of the Akagi Redsuns had actually put in a breath mint before coming to his home. Ryosuke had been worried about his breath. That small, human anxiety was a bigger turn on than Ryosuke would ever know. He closed his eyes and lost all hold on reality, somehow falling while sitting still.

Ryosuke let him drop away soon after, Takumi not even realizing that he had come to lean on the taller man. He was pushed back gently and was falling back against Keisuke before he could even recover. They stared at each other, Keisuke actually turning a light pink and glancing away awkwardly even though his hands were on Takumi's shoulders. There was another check back in his direction and an angrily muttered `fuck it' before Takumi found himself quite soundly kissed again. Keisuke was much more aggressive than his brother, his mouth strong enough to bruise as he smashed it up against Takumi's own. He wasn't sure if it was pent-up passion or Keisuke just desperate to be done with this before he could really think about what he was doing. Keisuke ended it just as abruptly as they had begun, leaving Takumi to fall back against the back of the bench in delayed shock, finally given a moment to react.

All three of them sat in an awkward silence afterward. There were still a few insects awake this late at night, buzzing in the dull heat that had baked into the pavement all day long. Takumi trying to control the pounding of his heart as it thundered in his ears. Ryosuke had kissed him. Keisuke had as well. Neither of them had rejected him. Takumi was having a hard time keeping himself from laughing at the insanity of it all. He didn't even know if he dared to hope that things would really work out after all, if he should be dumb enough to believe that he might actually mean something to either of them. The Takahashi brothers could do so much better than him

"Is it going to be okay like this?" Takumi couldn't help checking with them when he still felt so uncertain; Surely things weren't going to be wrapped up so nicely like this, with him actually getting what he wanted for once. Takumi wasn't used to it, wincing yet again when Keisuke put a hand down on top of his head, messing up his hair affectionately. It was just like his dad had done, getting more physical affection tonight than he had in years. Takumi couldn't help the grin that began to creep across his face, actually feeling truly happy for once. He curled up his feet on the cold street, wiggling in his seat as he felt like a little brother- actually belonging to a family for once, as deranged as it might be.

"Well, we're going to find out," Keisuke answered at last with the smile he had been wearing all night despite everything that was going on. Keisuke wasn't the type to get bothered by the small things. He didn't have any better idea about what to do than the rest of them; and he didn't even care. He just wasn't like that. He was happy with his life, friendly and typically easy-going, and wasn't about to get upset by a few small bumps in the road. He was confident when Takumi didn't have a single clue, when none of them knew where they stood with each other. Ryosuke was like that too, but that was more because he had already planned everything out. Ryosuke was nothing if not organized, planning out every little detail of the day. He knew about things that Takumi couldn't even begin to comprehend, and that was okay. They didn't look down on him for it. Keisuke and Ryosuke weren't going to hate him forever if he messed something up. They were officially announcing that they wanted to be with him when Takumi had been certain that Ryosuke and Keisuke were never going to talk to him after all this. In fact, it was just the opposite. Takumi suddenly felt alive, refreshed now that he had Keisuke and Ryosuke to look forward to.

"Do you want to come over to our house tonight?" Ryosuke asked after an appropriate amount of time had passed since Keisuke's meaningful response.

"Yeah," Takumi agreed, meeting Ryosuke's eyes evenly and smiling gratefully.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I guess in the end, I just got guilt-tripped into finishing this. I was feeling like I couldn't write anything else till I gave some sort of conclusion.

Which still sucks, in my humble opinion. I might YET come back to this, but just so I don't leave anyone hanging- it probably won't be for a while

Thank you so much to all of you who bothered to review or send me an email. I truly appreciated it all!