Part IV
"That idiot!" Takeshi raged. "Who the hell does he think he is? I can't believe his only excuse is 'I'm busy'. What the shit is that? And what the hell was that crack about my driving?" The other Night Kids backed away cautiously as Takeshi shouted into the night, gripping his cell phone tightly as if he wished it was Shingo's neck. They all found that they had very important things to do that required being far away from their storming team leader.
"Tetsuhiko!" Nakazato barked.
"Um, yes, Takeshi san?" the poor man who couldn't sneak away in time answered.
"Get everyone started warming up. Meet back up at 8:30pm for some time attacks," he ordered. Hands on hips, he brooded for a few moments, glowering in satisfaction as the other drivers (who had heard his order without Tetsuhiko's aid) scurried to their cars. Then he turned on his heel and stalked to his own. He climbed into the pitch black Skyline, slamming the door pointedly.
Takeshi watched critically as a few members of his team peeled out of the gallery. Still sitting in his parked car, he made a mental note to talk to Akio about his takeoff. He lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply.
His rage had calmed a bit, but he was still simmering from his conversation with Shingo. It seemed like they were always fighting. It didn't matter how nice he was to the guy; all he ever got in return were smart-ass comments and insults. Of course, he did have to admit that he had picked this particular fight himself. Nevertheless, it wasn't just about this fight, or any fight specifically. It was about their overall inability to communicate without degenerating into an ugly swearing match. The problem went way beyond simple personality conflicts.
Ever since their chance meeting at the auto parts store the day before, Takeshi had been doing some serious pondering on their relationship. He was convinced that he liked the Civic driver when he wasn't being deliberately obnoxious. Certainly, he was a very good driver, arguably the best in Myogi (not counting himself, of course). And he seemed dedicated to improving his skill, which Takeshi thought was admirable. He was smart (a little too smart sometimes), truthful (painfully truthful at points), tenacious, competent, and he was also pretty cute. Takeshi froze.
"What the hell?" he blurted out loud.
Now where had that come from? Shingo was /not/ cute, not in any physical sense of the word, at any rate! But he did have a certain…appeal. Takeshi shook his head. Now he knew he was insane. Takeshi had had his fair share of guys, and quite a bit more than his fair share of girls in his lifetime. So, attraction was nothing new to him. (He even thought the new guy Akio looked pretty good…not that he would ever act on it.) But never in all his wildest dreams had he ever thought of that irritating EG-6 driver in that way.
"I've just seen him too much this week, that's all," he muttered. "Too much of that rat bastard can make anyone crazy."
Suddenly, Tetsuhiko pounded on his driver's side window, almost sending him through the roof of the cabin. He opened the door and glared at him.
"What?" he snapped.
"Genji says he just saw Shingo on the way up. We, uh, thought you'd want to know," the nervous driver reported.
"Hmph. Fine," he answered, slamming the door shut again.
Tetsuhiko blinked, then turned around and walked back to his 180sx in disgust. Moments later, a red EG-6 sped into view. The car entered the gallery traveling fast and powerslid into an open parking space in a rather violent and unnecessary squeal of tires.
The few Night Kids who weren't already out on the course hastily made themselves scarce. Takeshi checked his watch - 8:14:37pm. He shook his head in disbelief. Getting out of the car, he purposefully made his way to the other side of the gallery, where the newly arrived Civic was parked, tires still smoking from the recent abuse.
Shingo also exited his car, and they met somewhere in the middle of the near-empty lot.
"Well I'm here. Are you happy now?" Shingo sneered.
"Oh yeah, the sight of you sends me into waves of ecstasy." Takeshi snorted. "What the hell was that right there?" He pointed at the smoking tires and the black lines on the concrete. "You could have killed someone!"
"Well I had to be here, didn't I? The almighty Nakazato Takeshi summoned me, how could I possibly refuse?"
"That's a ridiculous excuse! You could have taken the time to park properly!"
"I AM parked properly!" Shingo countered. And sure enough, the car was parked perfectly between the two parallel yellow lines. Takeshi, however, was not in the mood to be impressed.
"Don't give me that shit! You know what I'm talking about!"
"Do I?" Shingo asked maddeningly.
"Of course-" Takeshi paused, listening closely to the Civic. "Is that…your engine?" he asked suddenly. He stared at the little liftback and started walking towards it, straining his ears for the slightest sound. Shingo interposed himself between the advancing driver and his car.
"It's nothing," he said defensively.
"Yes it is, I heard something! Your car is…laughing? Wait…you didn't!" Takeshi's attention transferred from the hood of the car to the passenger cabin. Small hands waved at him through the glass. "You…you did!" He gaped.
"Children don't belong here, they're going to get run over! Are you stupid?"
"You said I had to be here, what else was I supposed to do?" Shingo shouted hotly.
"That's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard! You could have just told me you had other engagements."
"You didn't give me a chance!"
"Of course I did! You told me you were busy, you moron!"
"I was!"
Takeshi clamped his mouth shut and shoved his hands into his pockets, afraid he would throttle the driver to death if he didn't. Too many witnesses. Appealing or not, Shingo was irritating as piss!
"You are…the most…insufferable person..!" he couldn't even finish the thought, he was so angry. He forced himself to calm down.
"What were you going to do, just force them to sit in there all night? And don't even tell me you were going to try to hide them from me!"
"Of course not! That would be stupid."
"Yes, which is why I fear that's what you were thinking of doing!"
"What? Are you calling me stupid?"
"If the shoe fits!" Takeshi shouted in English, a language that he was fairly proficient with, but he knew Shingo was not.
"What did you call me? Don't start that gaijin shit with me! I swear…"
They continued to argue pointlessly, slinging vituperative remarks at one another. At 8:30pm, the rest of the Night Kids converged on the gallery, huddling in a far corner like a flock of lost sheep. Under the dim glow of the street lamps, they whispered conspiratorially, occasionally casting furtive glances in the direction of the bickering drivers.
"Is it always like this?" Akio asked, staring at them wide-eyed. Once in awhile, he would wince at a particularly cutting slur. The rest of them looked pityingly on the newest member of their team.
"Yeah. This isn't even that bad," said Tetsuhiko, shaking his head.
"Yeah, this is nothing. Once they got into a fistfight, and-" Genji stopped when Tetsuhiko shot him a warning glance.
"Don't think too badly of them. It's fine when there's only one, or the other. It's only when they get together that shit like this happens." Tetsuhiko shrugged. "Shingo hasn't even been to a meet in quite awhile."
"Who can blame him? Takeshi's always breathin' down his neck," Michio grumbled from the back of the group.
"No way! He's never like that with anyone else. It must be Shingo!" Genji leapt to Takeshi's defense.
"Hey! Let's not start that again! Taking sides is futile. We're all on the same team, we should try to act like it!" the 180sx driver scolded. "Now let's not waste-" he broke off as they heard the rumble of approaching cars. "What the hell?"
Around the corner came a veritable cavalcade, all bearing the emblem of the RedSuns. The Myogi team gaped in surprise. The entourage of cars came to a stop near the astonished, previously arguing pair of drivers, and several of the RedSuns exited their cars. Takeshi spotted the Takahashi brothers silhouetted against the bright beams of the leading Mazda's pop-up headlamps. There was someone else with them, a guy he didn't recognize who apparently drove an orange S14. He resisted the urge to laugh. As far as he was concerned, people who painted their cars ridiculous colors didn't deserve his respect. And that included the irritating yellow FD driver who was currently advancing upon him. He tried not to look as pissed as he felt. Clowns!
"What fresh hell is this?" Shingo muttered under his breath; Takeshi caught it, and shot him a warning glance.
"Be civil!" he ordered.
"I can be Civic!"
"No, not-"
"Is this a bad time?" one of the Takahashis interrupted calmly. Takeshi was glad it was the other one, the one who didn't drive the ridiculous car, who spoke. Otherwise, he wasn't sure he could have held his rage in check.
"Anytime is a bad time!" snapped the short-tempered Honda driver. He received a dirty look from Takeshi.
"What do you want?" Takeshi queried icily, looking the RedSuns team leader up and down with obvious disdain.
"You needn't be hostile. We didn't come here for a fight."
"Then why are you here?" He struggled to keep the exasperation out of his voice, but didn't quite succeed.
"We came to discuss a certain hachiroku, I think you know the one," replied the FC driver.
"You don't have to tell me, I was there." Takeshi flicked a not-so-subtle glance in the younger Takahashi's direction. What's his name again? Ken…no, Kei…Keisuke, that's it.
Shingo outright snickered, and Takahashi Keisuke bristled like a dog on the attack. Serves that cocky bastard right.
"So? What about the hachiroku?"
"Whatever you think you know about this guy, you have no idea," warned the older Takahashi ominously. "I wouldn't challenge him, if I were you."
"Why not?" Takeshi was starting to get a little suspicious. This reeked of a RedSuns plot.
"You know as well as I do that Takumi is a master of the drift technique. I would think a proponent of grip style like yourself would be interested in proving once and for all which of the styles is the better," the FC driver explained glibly. This was true…it was a good opportunity to show off the true power of his AWD Nissan Skyline GT-R R32.
"I'd win," Takeshi replied arrogantly.
"Don't be too sure of that. Keisuke's FD3S far outclassed that hachiroku, but Takumi still beat him…twice." Keisuke colored slightly at the mention of his embarrassing losses.
Takeshi's eyes narrowed. He had personally seen the hachiroku in action, and the driver had pulled off some interesting tricks. But despite the fact that he considered the hachiroku a worthy adversary, it didn't particularly worry him. A hachiroku was a hachiroku, and it was nothing compared to his GT-R. No matter how good the driver, a car has its limits. Clown or not, how could that Keisuke be defeated by this hachiroku? It made no sense. Finally, he gave in to his curiosity.
"How could you possibly lose?" he asked in disbelief.
For the first time, Keisuke spoke up to answer for himself. "It's not as simple as it seems. This goes beyond weight to power ratios, torque and horsepower. I can't explain it, but that 86, it's unreal. You think you can do better? Go ahead and try. It'll sail right by you in the third hairpin as if you were just crawling along in 2nd."
"Oh, right," scoffed Shingo. "A mystical hachiroku flying down Mt. Akina like a ghost. Any more bedtime stories, sempai?"
"I don't think you should race that 86. You would lose," Ryousuke stated flatly. He stared straight at Takeshi, completely ignoring Shingo's caustic and inflammatory remarks.
Takeshi glowered back.
"We'll decide our own battles, who we'll race and who we won't. Just because you lost, doesn't mean we can't win. So stop wasting our time."
"Have it your way. But remember, we did warn you."
The RedSuns spun on their heels and returned to their idling cars.