Hayato had not returned.
The computer made use of his overjoyed mood of being back online to patch the worry assaulting somewhere deep in his code, staring back from the abyss with Hayato's name on it.
— The computer contemplated more than just diagnostics over his cybernetic system while he rattled off in a timely manner the logistics and status of his unscathed cyber system.
The crash hadn't been fatal and Hayato had suffered little to no lesions. It was comforting to know his driver had not been injured but as for the chassis of the car — it could not say the same.
The entire reason for the crash was foremost disturbing. For Asurada, it was confusing because his driver had thrust himself into this problem, letting Asurada's guiding voice take the back burner as Hayato tried to claw his way forward on an otherwise unorthodox track. It seemed that for some strange unsaid reason the young boy had begun to distrust Asurada and all had accumulated after they'd have an unfortunate collision with Mr. Ohtomo's vessel. Though Asurada was certain the other vehicle had not received any devastating blow enough to have caused the final accident ahead of the track Asurada knew his side of things hadn't exactly gone too well on the physical side of things. Nothing was as it seemed on the inside of the track and while the projected screen had been very helpful, Asurada could see the concern growing in his driver after these had become rather useless. Asurada couldn't help this unease flood the system the moment they impacted with the side wall of the track just as Hayato attempted to blindly pass another racer on a tight turn, unsure of why Hayato could do such a thing. Risk his life for something foolhardy and incomplete.
The last he could remember was just listening to Hayato shout as they ricocheted off the walls and finally slumped over in a heap of scorching scrap metal. Asurada could have cared less for his dignity or his appearance while he tried to hold on and register if his driver was alright. When that initial inquiry had an answer Asurada shut off, attempting to secure Hayato's future or any possibility involving the winning of this overall race. Hayato would need him for this and so Asurada knew it would be unwise to stay conscious unnecessarily. Then everything had drawn to the silence and he hadn't seen his driver since. There was a troubled air around the crew that evening that Asurada was having difficulty understanding. Everyone wanted nothing more than for Hayato to be alright but as for approaching the matter directly — said circumstance had not happened. Asurada wasn't sure but he figured this was a slight oversight on behalf of the crew. As the cyber system of a viciously fast race car, everything was best expressed directly and with no pitfalls. He'd never let Hayato deal with something alone on the track in this manner and he figured the same was to be applied to this distinguished circumstance.
While rattling off more numbers of his cyber system that had escaped intact and humorously teased at his overly exhausted technician he caught sight of the silhouette that was deeply engraved into his electronic mind.
His driver was afraid — upset — A ball of problems all welded together in a melted metallic shell the computer had little understanding over. Standing with his shoulders curled, running his hands along the flat of a wrench, thin and long —
Hayato had returned.
Asurada felt small and powerless outside the Super Asurada. Unable to greet the boy with the majestic grace he emitted when he was properly mounted in the car.
Asurada watched over in concern as tremors traveled along his driver's fragile frame. He'd seen firsthand how the G-force along the track could pin Hayato into the bucket seat effortlessly and shake him forcefully — but these tremors were coming from within and Asurada couldn't entirely fathom its cause.
His visual sensors rotated quietly while his beloved technician snored over his keyboard. The sound became just white noise while Asurada picked up on Hayato's threatening possession of the wrench. His knuckles went white over the smooth of the metal.
Asurada flinched —
Listening in to the subtle footfalls of Hayato approaching. The melody was familiar — he knew it by heart.
The night was quiet, a sliver of cold shuddering through Asurada's system. It wasn't too bothersome however, he was wise enough to understand that the subtle temperature drops and rises were better off for his system than the extremes of either that he often experienced along with his driver on the track.
He turned away from his thoughts regarding the cold for a moment, bringing his attention to his driver's face, Asurada twisting and turning his visual scanners around in expectation. Having not said anything about Hayato's undisclosed arrival.
'Hayato —' A flurry of data running, blurring the computer's mind as the young boy blinked back the crystal tears from his eyelashes.
He looked more upset and far distant than Asurada had ever seen. He was clutching the wrench harder. The image of his knuckles shooting out from Hayato's hands mirrored that of a piston taking airborne from an overly stressed engine block. The tool shimmered and glowed under the dim lighting of the trailer bay, extending from his hands turned into a blade repurposed for the execution of something vulnerable and weak.
"Are you going to destroy me?" Asurada asked finally into the air, dismissing the greeting knotted in his train of thought. He knew Hayato was sad — he knew the young boy was upset and drawn over in confusion but there was something more there and if the boy was to take Asurada's life, he couldn't allow it. The biggest danger to Hayato here would be an irreversible loss — action, decision — consequences he'd have to drag around forever throughout his life. The hole that Asurada would leave behind would be too great for Hayato to forge a solution if ever. They needed each other —
"I can't drive with you anymore." His voice escaped in a low grumble, murmur.
Asurada listened carefully, picking up on the distress in his otherwise sweet driver's voice.
"I would like to hear the reason," Asurada asked evenly.
"You took Mr. Ohtomo's racing career away from him," Hayato shouted between gritted teeth, lifting the wrench — charging a devastating blow.
"That is incomprehensible. There is no connection between Johji Ohtomo's accident and me." Asurada answered gingerly, soothing his words and hoping his driver could begin to see clearly through the blinding fog of this tragedy.
"Shut up! Don't argue with me you…! You made Mr. Ohtomo —!" He lifted the wrench over his head, the end shining a biting silver over Asuradas unit, condemning the computer to destruction over an action that hadn't been his fault — Asurada felt afraid for a moment but wouldn't give in to said fear. He couldn't imagine fearing Hayato. The boy was tame — stubborn but tamed. Unlike other drivers the computer had observed over the track in his short lifespan, Hayato had allowed Asurada to teach him and Hayato had also unintentionally taught him. Hayato couldn't possibly go through with this, they were friends, and if Hayato's blow arched down; Asurada knew he'd die inside even before the first blow touched him. The thought of having been tossed aside by his beloved driver would inflict a massive irreparable wound into his cyber system that would down him entirely.
"Hayato, are you sad?" The computer asked finally, using his direct approach to troubleshoot what was going on. Understand why Hayato had changed, why was he determined to allow a split so dire in their partnership?
"I feel a deep sorrow inside your heart. What you are saying is totally illogical, however, I wonder —" Asurada felt his own reason echo back, his straight and precise line of thought becoming muddled. Feelings and emotions partly stressed his system while he let it naturally flow, twist, and turn into an irregular shape inside his heart. He unconsciously pulled at the algorithms that allowed him to track, analyze and learn his driver's style of driving — his system trying to document and observe — Change and apply — but they weren't at the track and this wasn't about driving — this was…different.
" — Something inside me is trying to understand your mind. Your heart is filled with sorrow." Asurada said into the room out loud. Having the need to express the emotions directly involved — the nature of this unusual race Asurada wasn't too keen on. "Looking at you makes me sad too." Asurada finally uttered the words, letting the somber silence touch Hayato's heart. He saw his face soften — faintly. The wrench slowly descended a fraction but Hayato kept gripping it. Silently staring ahead — caught in the words of the computer. Asurada remained silent, trying to comprehend what was unfolding before him. Both disturbed and terrified of becoming afraid of his driver. Before he could say anything more he heard Pei's voice slaughter the silence.
"Hayato! Stop it!"
Asurada remained silent the moment Pei's fist connected with Hayato's face. He crashed against the slick back of his technician's chair. The young man turned in confusion over the clatter of Hayato's weapon of choice ricocheting off the ground while he continued to recover from the blow.
"Asurada is not only yours! He's also my dream!" Pei squeezed his eyes in pain, clutching his head to his chest while he curled a shaking fist. Completely overwhelmed over what could have happened had he come any second later…
Asurada wished the silence would have prolonged itself before a fire broke over Hayato's eyes and he flung himself mercilessly at Pei. The two tumbled outside and out from view. A bundle of punches and shouts escaped the tangled-up boys.
Asurada, unable to do anything but resolve within himself that Pei would never hurt Hayato outside of reason, knew the two boys' racket would catch the attention of everyone else. It had already drawn his technician to action, darting after them in terror and it was a matter of a few seconds for everyone to follow and separate them. He hoped Hayato's injured internal systems located in his head could recover from the bleak and numbing fog plaguing his mind involving Mr. Ohtomo's accident.
The scuffle continued a little longer outside, shouts — voices. All reunited with a purpose.
Asurada remained silent.
Staring into the empty room and wondering if at all things could go back to how they'd been a few days ago. Basking in the warmth of victory while they awaited for the next challenge to present itself —
He tried to understand the little anomaly he couldn't entirely process wandering around his code while he waited anxiously. Doing this in the domain of his cyber system, he yearned for the voice of his driver. For that bright smile — that for a moment was overly upset with him with no justified reason.
A sob fluttering through the open door and to the unit's "ears" sent a sudden chill down his entire system. Making him turn to the dark outside in wonder. His lenses strained to pick up lovingly over Hayato's frame but he wasn't there — instead he picked up the boy's voice — pain, guilt.
"I'm sorry Asurada…!"