Hey everyone!
I started watching Initial D last February after my brother's insistence over the past few years. He actually had to play the first five episodes on our TV so I would actually watch it. Little did I know I would absolutely fall in love with it. I think I love it more than either of us expected, and that's honestly a good thing. It spurred my interest in cars and driving, as well as sparked by inspiration for this story. I've never written something this long or involved before and it honestly surprised me that I got this far. But running to an endless horizon, or running as I've come to call it, is something that I loved working on and I can't wait to show it to you guys. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I'm going to preface this: I'm neither a doctor nor a street racer. I'm just a writer who happens to have an interest in both. So I apologize in advance for an inaccuracies.
Beta read by my lovely friend HowtoProcrastinate.
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Part 1 - Resilience
you stand alone—crying;
for what, i could not know.
as i approach, a smile is on your lips
and anguish is in your eyes.
Takumi leans against his Eight-Six with his arms crossed over his chest, supporting himself with the body of his car far more than he'd like. Ryousuke is speaking, briefing them about their upcoming race, but Takumi can barely hear him. He should be paying attention, but the weight tightening around his chest and the pounding of his head distracts him.
He hasn't been able to focus all day, despite his best efforts to. He woke with a cough that left him breathless and lightheaded. Cough drops helped moderately but did nothing against the headache that pounded against his temples. Only when he caved and took some pain medication did he feel relief.
But that was over six hours ago and the pain has returned with vengeance. He ignores it for now, waiting for the moment he can return to his Eight-Six and take some more Advil. But knowing this doesn't help increase his focus.
Luckily, the bulk of the meeting will occur on Tsuchisaka. He'll be able to focus after Advil kicks in and actually understand what Ryousuke's trying to tell them. He just has to hope that they don't try to ask him any questions before they leave. He's...not confident he'll answer them well.
Ryousuke pauses a moment, glancing over their group. His expression doesn't shift. "The drive to Tsuchisaka will take an hour or two. Once we're there, we'll set up and start."
Takumi nods and winces. Pain laces between his temples. He ignores it to the best of his ability and climbs into his Eight-Six. He starts the car and follows Keisuke's FD out of their workshop's parking lot.
While navigating the narrow side streets, he opens the glove box and digs out the Advil. He opens the bottle with both hands against the steering wheel and fishes out two pills. There's a water bottle on his passenger's seat, given to him by Fumihiro at the start of the night, but he doesn't bother grabbing it. He just swallows the pills dry.
It takes over half an hour for the Advil to finally kick in. His headache fades to something barely noticeable and his focus slowly returns. It's not completely perfect, but it's significantly better than before. With this, he'll be able to actually accomplish something.
He frowns, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He should probably tell Ryousuke that he isn't exactly in his top form, but he doubts that this is something that will persist beyond the morning. He isn't one to get sick and when he does, it's nothing that'll hold him down longer than a day. It shouldn't be something that becomes a problem.
They arrive at Tsuchisaka an hour or so later. Unusual exhaustion rests in his limbs and a faint nausea twists in his gut. He doesn't know what to make of it. But he doesn't spend the time trying to figure it out. It's easier to ignore it. Anyways, it'll go away once he's focusing on something more than the repetitive terrain of the freeway.
Across the lot sits a pair of Lan Evo's, their engines still idling. Takumi parks his car and steps out. The air holds a faint chill from the mountain but is still thick with humidity. Their opponents step out of their cars at the sight of them, two men slightly older than them. Fumihiro and Ryousuke approach them, but Takumi stays back with Keisuke and listens.
Or listens as well as he can when he's trying his best not to cough in front of Keisuke. It isn't that bad, but a dull ache rests within his chest. It makes it slightly difficult to breathe, nothing that he needs to be concerned about but enough that it's distracting.
He swallows, wincing unnoticeably at the pain that flares up in his throat, and tries to draw in a steady breath. It breaks off into a short coughing fit that leaves him far more winded than it should.
Keisuke glances over to him with a frown. "You okay?"
Takumi nods, trying to steady his breathing. "I'm fine. It's allergies or something."
Keisuke doesn't look convinced. "Ryousuke might have something for it if you ask him." But he gives Takumi a sharp grin. "Can't have you falling sick now."
"I'm not," Takumi says, indignant. And he isn't lying. He isn't going to fall sick. This is going to pass sooner or later, no matter what he does. He isn't one to stay sick long.
Ryousuke and Fumihiro return a few minutes later. Ryousuke is frowning, his eyes pressed narrow. He glances back at the two Lan Evo drivers briefly, giving them what Takumi would call a glare on anyone else. "We'll be splitting our practice time in half. They'll run the course first and we'll follow suit afterwards."
"And you agreed to that, why?" Keisuke asks, his voice drawn thin. He is outwardly glaring at the two men and making no attempts to hide it. "This is their home course. They should've had all the time in the world to run it before we got here."
"They are difficult people to reason with," Ryousuke says with clear deliberation on his word choice. "It is easier to go along with them for now."
Keisuke looks like he wants to argue, lips pressed in a thin line and eyes narrowed. But he just shoves his hands into his pockets. "Fine."
Ryousuke looks over to Takumi. "Fujiwara?"
For a second Takumi blanks, not expected nor used to the attention. He does better when he can fade into the background. But he can gather his composure and shrugs. "There's nothing much we can do." A bitter note rests in his voice.
Ryousuke narrows his eyes, a glimmer of frustration in his gaze. "While we're waiting, review the course on the laptops. We'll be short on time so find and focus on any critical points."
Takumi nods. Keisuke crosses his arms over his chest, clearly irritated but complies with Ryousuke's instructions. Takumi walks over to one of the vans, stopping at the foldable table Matsumoto set up with the laptop.
For the next couple of hours Takumi scrolls through the map of the course and scrubs through the video Fumihiro and Kenta took earlier this week. It isn't the same as running the course himself, but it's better than sitting around and bemoaning their situation. But he can't deny that taking a break between driving over and running the pass is beneficial.
He was, and still is, exhausted. If he went straight to driving the pass after driving over here, his concentration would've slipped. At least now, he can try to regain some of his focus.
About an hour after the Lan Evo drivers left, Fumihiro comes around with food and drinks. After the first few exhibitions, where they unfortunately learned of Takumi's habit of forgoing eating before a race, Fumihiro made it his job to provide food to him and the team. It wasn't usually much, but it was more than Takumi would've gotten for himself. Takumi has learned to tolerate it, finding that on occasion he focused better after eating.
But now the thought of eating was nauseating. He couldn't tell it was from the illness settling in his chest or the agitation simmering beneath his skin. Both made the idea of eating unappealing and difficult. But denying the food would draw attention back to him and questions would be asked that he doesn't want to answer.
So he just takes what Fumihiro gives him and picks through it slowly. Matsumoto doesn't say anything, focused on his laptop. Takumi tries to do the same but, by now, it's difficult. He should put forth more focus on memorising the course, but his thoughts are scattered. He keeps glancing at the road, waiting until he can drive.
When he looks over to Keisuke, it's clear that he isn't faring much better. For racers, there is only so much they can do with theory. Takumi can only learn if he can apply it. Otherwise, it's a waste.
The moment the two Lan Evo's return, Takumi climbs into his Eight-Six. The agitation pooling his stomach twists the nausea and he's anxious to get started driving. His frustration has been building for the better part of the hour and it's becoming an anxiety energy that settles in his limbs. Takumi rolls down his window. "Matsumoto, I want to run this first lap by myself."
Matsumoto looks up from the laptop on the short foldable table, frowning. He's on edge after the delays but he hides it well. "I'll continue working up here then."
Takumi nods. He rolls up the window and pulls out of the lot.
He turns down the mountain, shifting the actual map of the course with the mental image he's created. He ignores everything else but the course, taking note of the sharpness of each corner and the variation of the road. About halfway down the mountain, he passes Keisuke. He gives himself a moment to watch him in the rear view mirror before turning his gaze back on the road.
There's an agitation in Keisuke's driving. It's barely noticeable, but it's clear to Takumi that he's just as frustrated. It's difficult even now that they're able to drive to manage the frustration of having to delay their start time.
Takumi grits his teeth as he takes the last corner a bit too wide, quickly readjusting his course before continuing on. His concentration is slipping. He needs to keep his thoughts in order but it's hard when each corner prods the nausea churning in his stomach and tightens the weight around his chest.
He turns around in the small lot at the bottom of the mountain and sets off towards the top of the mountain. He catalogs the course differently from this angle, taking it slightly slower but watching for differences in his interpretation of the corners. Coming in from what would be his exit point can help him better understand how these attack them.
In the next corner, he takes it harder than he intended. Pain flares in his head and his stomach turns. He slams the Eight-Six to a stop, the seat belt digging painfully into his chest. He scrambles out of his car, collapsing to his knees as he coughs.
He retches weakly into the grass, digging his fingers into the dirt. This can't be good. His face feels warm and sweat beads against his brow. Whatever chill in the air does nothing to cool the burn on his skin.
He leans back when his stomach starts to settle, drawing in a breath to quell his racing heart. This isn't looking good. He could handle faint nausea and a headache, but he can't deal with vomiting. There's little he can do to stop it.
Unless he just stops eating entirely. If he doesn't eat, there isn't going to be anything for him to throw up later. And he was feeling alright after just drinking water and taking some Advil. He could do that to get through the night and see how he feels after getting some rest. He can't bail out now. Not with the type of people their opponents are.
Neither of them look like they'll take kindly to them postponing or stopping the race. And he couldn't force Keisuke to stop his race because of him. It just doesn't sit right with him.
All he can do is get back into his car and continue driving.
He drags himself from the ground, taking a moment to steady himself against the side of the car. He coughs into his hand, the sound wet and deep. But his hand comes away dry.
He wipes his hand on his pants for good measure and steps into the car. He starts off a bit slower than he'd like, getting reacclimated to the feeling of driving with his slight disorientation.
A few minutes later, he passes Keisuke again. He barely acknowledges it, briefly entertaining the relief that Keisuke didn't see him parked on the grass before returning his focus back on the road. Despite his intentions, he does little analysis of the corners. It takes all of his concentration to maintain a reasonable speed and try to make up for lost time.
The only thing he has to do is just keep driving.
He pulls into the lot at the top of the mountain, parking next to the vans. Matsumoto approaches him before he can step out of the car, already glancing over the Eight-Six. Takumi turns off the car and steps out, surprisingly steady on his feet.
"How did it run?" Matsumoto asks.
"Well." Takumi tries to think of something he can say about his run downhill, but he's having trouble differentiating his two runs. He settles on something that is important, no matter the direction he's racing. "The course itself wasn't difficult but the road was damaged and cracked."
Matsumoto nods, crouching down and inspecting the wheel. "When I ride with you, I'll see how the Eight-Six handles them. Afterwards, we can make any necessary adjustments."
"Okay." Takumi doubts his ability to make the adjustments, even if it's just instructing Mastumoto about what he wants. It'll be easier for both of them if he lets Matsumoto take the lead in the adjustments and tuning. He doesn't have the mental capabilities to expend right now. Matsumoto will make better decisions than he will be able to.
Matsumoto looks over the Eight-Six one last time before settling in the passenger's seat. Takumi follows suit, sitting in the driver's seat and starting the engine. He pulls out of the lot and takes off down the course.
He tries to attack the corners as aggressively as he usually would, but it's difficult balancing his speed and his nausea. It's becoming obvious that he shouldn't be driving like this. It's dangerous not only to himself but anyone he drives with if his concentration slips. Matsumoto doesn't say anything, but occasionally, Takumi can feel the weight of his gaze on his shoulders.
After a few more corners, Takumi draws in a breath. He can't continue like this. Not with the high expectations Ryousuke and Keisuke have on him. He'll have to forfeit his portion of the race. It sickens him to consider this, but he's not going to do well if he races now. The disappointment of losing will be far worse than whatever he faces for not racing.
"Matsumoto," Takumi's voice is quiet and drawn thin. He can feel Matsumoto's gaze on him. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "I—"
The sound of a cell phone ringing cuts him off. Matsumoto pulls out his phone and answers it. "Fumihiro, what's wrong?"
Takumi drifts around the next corner, driving closer to the guardrail than before but nowhere near his usual skill.
"Takumi, stop the car." Matsumoto's voice is serious and urgent. "Now."
Takumi slams on the breaks, slowing it to a stop. The force lurches his stomach, but he shoves down the nausea. "What happened?" He bites back the cough that threatens to rise up in his throat.
Matsumoto ends the call before turning to Takumi. His expression is tight. "There was oil on the road and Keisuke crashed his FD."
"Is he alright?" Takumi asks, pressing the fear in his voice away with concern.
"Yes, he and Tomiguchi are uninjured. But the FD sustained some damage." Matsumoto narrows his eyes, his frustration bleeding into his words. "They're unsure if it will be able to drive tomorrow."
Takumi didn't see anything when he was driving earlier. There has to be some sort of foul play at hand. He couldn't imagine the frustration Keisuke's feeling right now. "Will you be able to fix it?"
"At some point, yes. But it won't be before tomorrow's race." Matsumoto glances at this phone. "The oil slick is between section 2 and 3. Continue slower down the mountain and we'll meet up with them."
Takumi nods and shifts up before slowly releasing the clutch. He drives down the mountain at a slower pace, something akin to the regular limit on these roads. He knows approximately where Keisuke is, but he watches for any additional tricks or sabotage. Apparently, pulling such tactics isn't beneath them.
The slower pace does nothing to help abate the growing anxiety in his chest. It presses against his lungs and makes it harder to ignore the slight tremor in his hands. He can't back down. Not after this. They can't lose both of their drivers.
He'll just have to push through it. It's the only option he has.
Takumi slows to a stop before the bridge, the oil gleaming in the light of his headlights. Keisuke's FD is stopped on the other side of the bridge, with Tomiguchi crouched beside it. Takumi gets out of his Eight-Six with Matsumoto and makes his way to the FD. He steps around the oil to the best of his ability, his gait already unsteady enough without the added instability of the slickness.
The left side of the FD bears the brunt of the damage. Takumi watches from a few feet away, but Matsumoto crouches down next to Tomiguichi. They converse quietly but Takumi doesn't try to make sense of what they're saying. He considers talking with Keisuke, but he doesn't know what to say. He's never been good at knowing the right things to say.
He leans against his Eight-Six, the hood warm to the touch. Sweat beads against his brow, the humidity heavy in the air without the sun to burn it off. He daps at it with the sleeve of his jacket. A weak cough tears through him, but he stifles it with his elbow. No one looks his way.
A few minutes later, a van approaches. They stop next to his Eight-Six. Ryousuke, Fumihiro, and Kenta step out. Kenta goes to Keisuke while Ryousuke and Fumihiro look over the FD.
Takumi listens as they try to scavenge the situation, hiding his wince when Keisuke raises his voice. It wasn't noticeable in the midst of the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but his headache is slowly returning. It's a dull throb now, but if he doesn't take some more Advil, it'll become worse.
He can't afford to have that happen. He needs to be as close to peak condition as possible.
The sound of an engine draws his attention away from the FD. One of the Lan Evos drives up from the pass, stopping a few feet from the FD. He rolls down his window and gives them a sharp, bitter grin. "I thought the road was a little too quiet. It looks like you had an accident. It doesn't seem like any of your 'skills' helped you here."
Keisuke stalks over to the Lan Evo, leaning down to meet Aikawa's gaze dead on. "You spread the oil all over the damn place, didn't you. Who knew you'd stoop to such levels."
"I can't believe you're making such accusations without any evidence." Aikawa feigns shock but it can't hide the shards of satisfaction in his voice.
"What the fuck are you talking about? It's obvious it was you!" Keisuke narrows his eyes, anger simmering in expression. "C'mon get out of there. I'll kick your ass for talking like that."
Fumihiro places a hand on Keisuke's arm, giving him a hard look. "Stop it, Keisuke." He turns to Aikawa, his expression softening to something more apologetic. But Takumi can see the insincerity in it.
Aikawa glances between Keisuke and Fumihiro, an odd light entering his expression. "So this is the type of people Project D has. Who knew they'd not only be willing to falsely accuse their opponents but threaten them as well. I don't really want to race those kinds of people."
Keisuke clenches his hands into trembling fists but Fumihiro tightens his grip on Keisuke's arm. "I'm deeply sorry. Our FD, our only hill climb car, has been considerably damaged. It's unable to be immediately repaired."
Aikawa glances at the FD, giving a rather pathetic imitation of pity. "That's unfortunate."
"As a result, we have a request," Fumihiro continues. "Can we postpone the race for a week?"
"A week, huh. No, not really." Aikawa pauses a moment, giving them a smug grin. "You see, I'm not exactly free next weekend. I've got a date and all that.
"And you know, in official motorsports, any car that doesn't make it to the starting line loses. We have nothing to do with your personal circumstances. We'll be meeting at eight tonight as planned. Bring the Eight-Six or whatever the hell you want out, but if you're late, you lose."
Something heavy settles in Takumi's gut. He wouldn't have to do the hillclimb, would he?
Logically, he knows that Ryousuke wouldn't make him. It's unreasonable to ask him in his Eight-Six to face more powerful cars going uphill. He tightens his hands into fists, trying to stop the trembling. It does nothing to stop the anxiety settling in his stomach.
Aikawa gives them one last grin before driving away. Keisuke waits until the Lan Evo is out of sight before he kicks the guardrail. "Fuck."
Ryousuke narrows his eyes. "Keisuke, now isn't the time to kick the guardrail. We need to do everything in our power to clean this up." Ryousuke looks over to Takumi. "Fujiwara, Matsumoto, you guys continue setting up the Eight-Six. Run half-course until this is cleaned up."
Takumi nods and steps away from the Eight-Six. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and opens the door. But he stops with the door half-open when Keisuke raises his voice, glancing between Matsumoto and Ryousuke. Matsumoto shakes his head and opens the passenger's side door. Takumi gives one last look at the brewing argument between Ryousuke and Keisuke before stepping into the Eight-Six.
He starts his car and turns around. The van slowly fades from his rear view mirror. After driving on the road for a few minutes, Matsumoto breaks the silence. "What was it you wanted to tell me, before all this?"
Takumi's surprised that he remembered. He didn't expect it after all that happened.
Takumi doesn't move his gaze from the road. His head aches with every bump in the road. "It's nothing."
He can't back out. Not now. Not after everything that happened.
—
I'm super excited to start posting this piece. It's extremely near and dear to me, being the first book-length piece I've ever written. It was originally supposed to be a short-ish sickfic, a one-shot or a small multichapter. But it's long since grown past that and I'm honestly proud of where it's gone. It may not be perfect but it's mine and that's what matters to me. I hope it'll be a fun read and you'll stick around to see where it's going, because you'll be in for a long ride.
Also, I plan to update it every Sunday, but I am a college student who just started her first job. I should have enough time to post the new chapter, I'm also updating a Persona 5 fic as well, but I may need to take a week off from time to time. Check out my tumblr for updates!
Again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!