A/n: none actually, except that this is the edited version of ch. 3
Warnings: Keisuke's language
III. Doubts, Confusion, and Loss
That night turned out as awful as the afternoon. Although he should have put his whole soul into driving and nothing else, Keisuke felt shattered, and it looked as if each separate cell of his body was not on its proper place, like there was a great disorder inside him, thoughts mingling, mixing, mind hardly focusing on the race, as the boy got one only question in his head – what the hell was wrong. Their discord with Ryousuke has had much influence on him, and he could not fancy what bit of misunderstanding had caused the mayhem. There was nothing but chaos filling him, nothing else.
'Dammit, aniki,' he cursed, bad language as an addiction he wasn't too willing to get rid of. 'I didn't think my words would touch you in this way, and you left without a word, without telling me the reason. What am I, a telepath? Shit, tonight's gonna be draggy.'
His mentioned-for-so-many-times brother was in his opinion now typing in his bedroom, preparing for a gathering on Mt. Akina. An important meeting had been arranged, where local racers would be present, so both Ryousuke and he had better be in a good humor and physical condition for the trip. Things were alright yesterday when they came home after a regular discussion of this-and-that technical stuff with their Akagi crew, two hours of a lively conversation ending in a peaceful drive home. The younger's query whether the fastest representatives of Akina would win had been left unanswered, both of them one hundred per cent sure of their success, no one has ever beaten the RedSuns, no one ever will. Even so, Keisuke felt restless, not certain if he should talk to Ryousuke before or after the journey, so he kept fidgeting, rushing about the house like a headless chicken, scratching his head and sweating, the morning water procedure scarcely of use.
The rules of the game were simple as that: full calmness, total concentration, no odd thoughts; if the rules were obeyed, the team would sweep to victory. Luck has been with them all the time alongside favorable wind. So far so good.
Quiet footsteps on the stairs as a sign the elder arrived. By that time the other had dropped himself in an armchair, but on hearing the sound, Keisuke perched up - Ryousuke was making his way to the kitchen for an eight o'clock glass of orange juice, and the blond followed him with his gaze until he stopped abruptly and said,
"Konban. Juu ji. Akina-san de. Hopefully you didn't forget about it, Keisuke," indifference caught in every undertone of a chilly voice as he reminded about the appointed meeting.
"I remember. Oi, aniki! I gotta tell you," Keisuke guessed another attempt would be more fortunate.
"I told you, save it. I have no desire to discuss things with you. Except for those concerning racing," Ryousuke sounded unusually strict yet controlling his temper. "We don't touch upon anything other than driving. No personal issues. Do what you want, and spare me the stories about your hell of a life, clear?"
Keisuke lowered his head, wishing to escape from this horrid place, the sooner the better, wishing to forget aniki's warning, get into his car and storm off into the darkness of the night, away from the dreadful house. However, he had to force his huge ego, the overgrown 'Me, Myself, and I' to stay and do things required, thrust his impudence into the farthest corner of him, fulfil obligations, commitments, think about what he had been told, in other words, listen, reconcile and comply. Period. 'Ah, aniki is aniki, shut up and nod when asked,' thus Takahashi Keisuke often trained himself.
The elder had already disappeared, leaving him alone with his broodings, obviously displaying no intention to mull over such urgent, to Keisuke's mind, matters. For the rest of the evening the younger sibling kept staring at the digital clock in the living-room, every figure change noticed by his glassy eyes, face angry like that of a devil, fists clenched tightly. He sat there, recalling former races, how optimistic yet not over-ecstatic the two of them were when leaving the house for battles, how united they acted, how wonderfully cooperated every action was performed, plans dovetailing nicely, no hint lost upon each other, all smooth and well-organized. A taken aback blond didn't know what he should do. Inner disarrangement might spoil everything together with the RedSuns' unmatched reputation. "Kusou," the guy swore again, while the observant eye of his brother kept track of every movement he made.
Ryousuke has spent the afternoon locked inside his room, which he preferred to call study since most of his time there he devoted to learning, reading books, encyclopedias and journals, writing papers, filling up forms, doing assignments; preparation for university combined with racer's career often proved too tough because he had to take part in several spheres simultaneously. He knew soon he would have to say goodbye to the biggest hobby of his life no matter how sad it made him feel. This afternoon his occupations were far from routine, though. He sat at the laptop, peering at the black screen of the turned-off computer, hands resting on his lap instead of keyboard, long delicate fingers absently touching the soft fabric of his white pants, while on another occasion they would be frantically running over buttons. Keisuke wondered why it was so important for aniki to study cars or whatever he did via computer, why he was so hooked on his precious laptop, choosing a night with it instead of having fun at a nightclub.
Still, Ryousuke had to admit, the otouto had somewhat dropped partying once he became keen on driving: no more sleepless nights and bruises under his eyes afterwards, no more groaning because of hangover, no more an awful lot of things. Every rule has an exception, and therefore, every now and then he would break loose and indulge himself to the max. 'Fool, he can't grasp it, we're different. Ah, he's incurable,' the driver often smirked as he continued with various charts, schemes, graphs and tables.
This time the situation was of another sort, this time, since the moment he left the bathroom in the morning, Ryousuke has imprisoned himself in his study in order to think, to analyze, to understand. He had played it low-down, lunged out of the room like a psyche after snapping a series of disconnected words, he hadn't even explained himself, acting like an offended child who didn't get a promised cookie. He was feeling really mean at the moment, considering such a conduct of his outrageously inadmissible. Instead of acting like elder brother he switched on a capricious kid. He was born to be responsible; others would not make so much fuss under similar circumstances. He didn't recognize himself.
Ryousuke supposed he had made an error, having stepped into the bathroom in the first place, and he wouldn't be so troubled by remorse if he had kept his sweet mouth shut. Anyway, he would have to get back to the topic later on, what he should do now is work out what had caused such a mad fury in him. All his brother did was take a shower - something he became a witness to - and then he heard about Keisuke's fondness for the same gender. Yet the FC driver reacted as if he had been told the most terrible secret on the planet or found out Keisuke's deadliest sin, an unforgivable crime or something. What was that core point that had caught him off-guard and sent out of the bathroom at a jet-set speed? Subconsciously, he was already aware of what his attitude was based upon, the sudden realization unbelievable, like a thing banned. It struck Ryousuke unexpectedly with a loud bang, so he sat still, regaining control. Then there followed long hours of plain doing nothing, and in the same sitting position the man spent another three hundred minutes until he saw how dark it has gotten in the room, and he looked at the clock on the desk,
'Shichi ji han. Orenji juusu,' Ryousuke remembered.
Unlike Keisuke, he wasn't that worried about the meeting, he could well control emotions when needed, as well as any incidental thought or desire, in this way staying cool, never wearing his heart on the sleeve. The house had a quiet serene atmosphere he liked most of all, kaa-san and tou-san still out, Keisuke keeping unusually peaceful, apparently engaged in an entertaining business of watching TV. 'He may ignore me when I say something,' Ryousuke narrowed his eyes upon spotting the younger downstairs.
The blond, in fact, felt a lot like his brother: sitting motionlessly in an armchair and staring blankly at the opposite wall as though making a scrutiny of each tiny bump or hole in it. 'It's surprising how an easy-goer and a fidget can turn into tranquility personified by the influence of a single remark,' Ryousuke thanked their parents for making Keisuke's nature so flexible, thanking himself too for his own ability to make brother obey, he was lucky to have such a docile sibling. Docile… well, not always.
Keisuke wanted to speak with him, the elder found it not difficult to guess, but he wasn't in the mood to talk the sore topic over again - the time has not come yet.
Once in the kitchen the elder poured a glass of orange juice, the custom he has had for some ten years, 8PM being the time for it. He then sat at the table so that Keisuke wouldn't see him, and fixed his curious eye on him. The one in the living-room didn't stir, and Ryousuke bet he had gotten deaf to sounds, like that of the doorbell or cellphone. He was absorbed in something.
Clock hands tick-tocked, measuring time as it passed implacably minute by minute until waiting got tiresome for the both, the younger on the verge of nervous breakdown unable to go on looking at the wall, Ryousuke bored to death as he lost curiosity almost immediately because the other did nothing extraordinary. For a second he thought it was much more amusing to watch another Keisuke, a drunk Keisuke - at least that one did something, not simply sat frozen in an armchair.
At nine, when the Takahashi got fed up with his tick, he rose from the seat and headed for the garage, his brother already at the door about to slam it.
"Try not to earn a ticket," warned him Ryousuke.
He clearly saw how fussy the other was, so worn-out and broken that it might cause future problems, and that wasn't in Ryousuke's plans of course. He left the house15 minutes later, as usual. No hurry-scurry nor lingering, all movements and actions regular and thought-over. Although trying not to act overprotective he felt he did sometimes, blaming it on his nature. He was afraid Keisuke would not make it to Akina without problems. The RedSuns' rule to arrive at the agreed spot together was always undermined by somebody, and that one who didn't stick to the simple rule, was a wayward blond called Takahashi Keisuke.
'Che, he's 21 and an adult, and I keep nursing with him!' Ryousuke rebuked himself, still worried about a certain Harvey Wallbanger, knowing how reckless brother got when especially angry; enraged, he might run into police or worse than that, a road accident. 'He better be careful since I don't believe in reincarnations.'
Later that night the FC owner met the team-members and his brother, thankfully safe and sound, at the appointed spot, after that they went to meet the locals to arrange the race, if any. The date settled, the battle with the Akina Speedstars fixed on Saturday, 10PM. All went smooth, even flawless on the outside as they talked, argued, smiled and discussed important and minor things; on the inside there traced tension between the Takahashis, but it was none of others' business, so the rest of the group knew they shouldn't interfere.
There was no need for Ryousuke to stay longer that night (for he was not going to take part in the match, relying on Keisuke and his skills), so he left Keisuke practicing for the next Saturday, and drove home. Professional as he was, he had not the slightest interest in the newbies, for him they were too weak, this noticed by his trained eye the first time he saw them. The RedSuns were going to show who the kings on the mountain passes of the Gunma area were, and his younger would beat these Speedstars, for sure.
Next morning, when said guy didn't come home after training, not at four, not at five, the family realized something must have happened, because Keisuke usually returned by that time. They gathered downstairs, alarmed, when the telephone call tore apart the awful silence of the space; walls shaking, ceiling collapsing, windows breaking – it looked like a real earthquake, while it was only in their heads, within the three restless minds.
That very morning the Akagi RedSuns' reputation was shaken, for the first time in their existence. The previous night when Ryousuke rode back to the mansion, so pleased and proud, his brother committed an unpardonable mistake. Unofficially or not, that very morning Keisuke lost.