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They came to a stop.

"Ow..." Shindou muttered in his arms.

The pressure in Touya's chest relaxed a little at that. "What happened?" he demanded.

"Are you injured?" Fujiwara asked, turning around, his eyes anxious.

Touya shook his head. He looked down at Shindou. "Shindou," he said more loudly. "Are you all right?"

Finally Shindou shifted away from Touya, and one arm came up to grab Touya's arm for support. "I'm... all right... Ow!" he rubbed his head. "I bumped my head," he said. "Touya, are you all right?" he asked, tugging at Touya's arm, looking at him up and down as though checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," he said. Other than being scared out of his life.

"Good. Shit, that was..." Shindou rubbed his head again, and looked at their driver. "The jerk tried to bump us?"

Fujiwara nodded.

Shindou peered out of the window, as though to catch a glimpse of the other driver. "That's... insane," he declared.

Touya watched him for a second, before he met Fujiwara's eyes. "That was incredible driving, Fujiwara-san," he said. " I thought we were going to meet with a nasty accident, but you managed to prevent it." He might not know much about cars, but he had taken lifts from Ogata often enough to recognize defensive driving techniques.

"Yeah!" Shindou came back to the conversation. "I thought we were going to die," he said with exaggerated horror. "That crazy, idiotic... Son of a bitch!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

"What is it?" Touya asked, recovering from a near heart-attack.

"Look!"

After a second Touya recognized the object Shindou was holding up as a squashed plastic cup, from which bits of dried ramen and a strong smell of old socks were surfacing.

"My barbequed squid ramen! He's ruined it!" Shindou said, and put the cup back in his bag, before holding up another equally smashed-up object. "And my black sesame chicken!" he showed Touya and Fujiwara, before rummaging in his bag again. "My preserved oysters! Grilled crab! Wasabi roast chicken! And... the garlic beef! That's it!" His head emerged from the bag, his eyes meeting Touya's for a second before he stared evenly at Fujiwara.

Fujiwara was starting to look uncomfortable under Shindou's intent look.

Touya reached for Shindou's shoulder, and shook it gently. It was like shaking a boulder. "Shindou, stop staring like that," he hissed.

"Fujiwara," Shindou said. "You know how to drive fast, right?" he asked. The even tone of his voice made Touya blink--usually, Shindou only got that tone only in the most intense of games.

Fujiwara nodded, awkward.

"Good." An unholy smile was appearing on Shindou's lips. "If I pay you, will you catch up with that jerk, so I can kick his ass?"

"Shindou!" Touya exclaimed, but stopped when he saw the light of competition was in Fujiwara's eyes appearing suddenly. Touya blinked, his estimation of their driver undergoing a re-evaluation. This person knew all about races, too.

"Can you do it?" Shindou asked.

Fujiwara's lips curved up slightly. "He's gone ahead, but..." he turned back to the front. "If it gets too much for you, let me know," he said.

And they were off.

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