Part I

"Wait, stop! Stay on the sidewalk!" A harried male voice shouted around a box piled high with junk. The box clanked in rhythm to his steps as he carefully made his way to the car park. Just as he rounded the corner of the building, the owner of the voice ran right into someone with a loud crash. Metal and rubber went flying in all directions as a peal of childish laughter rang out over the parking lot.

"Shit!" the man cursed, bending to retrieve the strewn objects.

"Shingo! Nice to see you, too." Shingo squinted up into the bright afternoon sun at the person standing over him, and rolled his eyes when he recognized who it was.

"Nakazato!" he spat with feeling. "Don't you watch where you're going?"

"Come on, Shouji. It's a blind corner! Just let me help you." The tall GT-R driver squatted to help him pick up the scattered parts. Shingo's only reply was a grunt.

Suddenly, a little girl ran up to them and threw a rubber hose into the box. She smiled shyly at Takeshi. He blinked in surprise as she wrapped her arms around Shingo's neck in a quick hug before she ran off again, presumably to get more of the parts that were all over the sidewalk.

"Little young, don't you think? I mean, I know you probably have a hard time finding dates, but really…"

The EG-6 driver shot him a glare that could wilt plants. "She's my sister!" he hissed.

Takeshi's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He could discern no resemblance between the pretty little girl and the man before him. Lucky for her, he thought to himself. They both stood up as Shingo threw the last part into the box. A moderate breeze whipped a few strands of the Civic driver's long hair into his face, and he shoved them behind his ear in annoyance. Takeshi grinned.

The little girl ran up to them, pink from exertion and breathless with childish exuberance; she had a broken piece of plastic in her hand.

"'Niiichan! Here!" she presented her find to him. He smiled, thanked her, and threw the obviously useless piece of trash into the box. Takeshi gaped in shock. 'Nichan? What the hell? The thought of anyone calling Shingo "'nichan" was bad enough, but to see the bad tempered driver treat the girl with such patience was astounding.

The child smiled up at him and suddenly introduced herself formally.

"Shouji Miki, nice to meet you!"

"Uh-Nakazato Takeshi, nice to meet you too," he said politely. She beamed at him.

"What are you doing hanging around an auto parts store, eh?" Before Shingo could stop her, she blurted out,

"Dad and mom had to work late, and Ryo's spending the night at Shintaro's house!"

"Miki!" gasped her older brother, looking about as embarrassed as Takeshi had ever seen him. "Why don't you go wait in the car?"

"Ok! Bye, Nakazato san!" she waved and bounded off like a rabbit.

"She's five," Shingo muttered, as if that explained everything. His face was quickly coming to match the color of his T-shirt. Takeshi squelched the urge to laugh. Instead, he put on a stern look.

"So! You'll be at the practice meet tomorrow, right?" Shingo had a long history of absences, and the Night Kids team leader decided to take the opportunity to make sure he showed up.

"I guess," Shingo answered nonchalantly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his torn and faded jeans. He stared off into the distance, apparently watching dry leaves borne on the fitful wind skitter across the concrete.

"Well good, because-" Takeshi was just building up to a lecture when he heard the distinctive squeak of rubber on paint. They both turned around to see Miki crawling on the hood of the red Civic SiR, and trying to haul herself up further by grabbing the windshield wipers.

"Nooo!" Shingo wailed in horror as he ran to stop her. This time, since Shingo was too busy to notice, Takeshi allowed himself a snicker. He crossed his arms and watched in utter amusement as Myogi's downhill specialist hauled his little sister off his precious car and stuffed her into the passenger seat. He couldn't quite catch what Shingo was saying, but he could hear Miki's petulant protests. He had never seen Shingo act this way, not in all the time he'd known him. Usually, the driver was so arrogant and sarcastic that he made Takeshi's blood boil within minutes of starting a conversation. But this time, in spite of the few snippy comments that Shingo had made, their conversation had been almost pleasant. Takeshi rather thought that this was a side of Shingo that he could come to like.

Sunlight glinted off the windshield as the exasperated driver examined the hood of his car to make sure there weren't any dents, while the little girl stuck her tongue out at him through the glass. When Shingo returned to the sidewalk for his box, the GT-R driver was treated to another withering look.

"Not one word!" hissed Shingo before heading back to his car.

"See you Saturday!" Takeshi called after him.

Once he was safely inside the store, the Myogi team leader sniggered till his stomach hurt, stopping only when the store worker gave him a strange look.

After dropping Miki back off at his parents' flat, Shingo drove back to his own shoebox apartment. Tossing his keys on the kitchen counter, he kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the messy bed.

"Shit. Now I look like an idiot. Even if he respected me before, which he didn't, he certainly wouldn't now!" He snorted in disgust. "And now I'm talking to myself, even better."

He fumed silently at the water-stained ceiling.

"If anyone says one goddamn word tomorrow, I swear they'll be sorry," he declared balefully. Then he rolled over to take a quick nap before he had to go to work. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he had a very satisfying vision of a little red car pushing a big black one off the road and into a metal guardrail.