IV. Misplaced
The consequences of the lost match were clear for the entire Takahashi family as no one had doubts as to how Keisuke would react to his defeat. Not only had he ruined the stainless name of the rotary engine kyoudai, Ryousuke thought, but also was ruining his own self now. Where? In the nearest-to-Akina bar, in the closest-to-the-doomed-place nightclub, or could he be drinking right in his FD with a beer and a queer, clinging to both with equal lust? The elder of the brothers sniffed at the morbid vision in his head. The voice on the opposite side of the receiver had let them know "Keisuke-san left for a quiet place to stay and think" and after, "Because he was outrun." There followed two seconds of silence, before the second brother snapped his jacket and darted out of the house to search for the lost soul, and try to rescue him. Ryousuke mentally scolded the guy both for the lost battle (although it was not official, yet how could this possibly happen?) and losing himself in alcohol. Somehow he was certain the blond was presently embracing a bottle; his task was to find the place and get him out of the claws of liquor. 'That won't do, you've gone too far. Don't you spoil my plans, Keisuke, I'm not someone to give in to your whims,' the dark-haired man scowled behind the steering wheel, riding along the empty freeway. While mother was wailing, hardly receiving father's solace, Ryousuke wasn't going to be easy on the offender. Another scowl, and he accelerated up to 90 kmph. 'No mercy this time,' he promised.
The underestimated and currently subjected to self-humiliation guy sat crouched in his car, its bright yellow color looking somewhat dirty-green, almost khaki. Broken, crushed, shattered, that was how he felt. Beaten. Yes. But that was no ordinary run, but a true fight, and he wasn't used to defeat, and refused to accept it, only wondering who that lucky bastard was. Keisuke's fault, guilt even, no one else to blame, not the FD, not Ryousuke, Takahashi Keisuke only. Mulling it over, analyzing the other driver's techniques, thinking out each drawback of his own maneuvers - it was no Keisuke's program, it was his brother's. All the younger wanted was understand, hear his inner voice, then follow its precious advice. He thought it too easy and childish to go indulge himself until getting drunk and incapable; the things bars and clubhouses offered, he knew them all backward and forward, and has gotten tired of, as they could hardly rid him of a noose above his head. What was it, just a bad night or lack of skill? 'Shit, I've disgraced RedSuns,' he never felt that nasty. Was the downcast boy in fact aware that it was not the run that was so disgracing but the thoughts he had on his mind?
Three hours later when the two brothers returned home unharmed, there was barely a hint at awkwardness between them; the angry parents met their sons, glad to see them alive (and sober, in Keisuke's case). With false smiles pulled on, the siblings seemed alright, so that even their mother failed to make out artificiality. Masks of pretence and ostentatious radiance put off as soon as the spouses closed the door to their bedroom.
That morning Ryousuke went to bed but hardly had a chance to enjoy his dream, short and restless as it appeared.
Keisuke, in his turn, didn't go to sleep at all, staying downstairs on the couch for slumber never came over him that morning.
If there was a next morning, it wasn't for them. The day was breaking with the red sun, the bright flaming ball rolling up along the variously-colored sky at a slow but steady speed. It was the time when the two were simultaneously thinking about the same thing – Akagi RedSuns. They've put so much of themselves into the words and the team respectively, wanting it to become a legend forever imprinted on people's minds. A flashing, ringing, catchy name once created by Ryousuke. For another two hours they lay motionless, staring into nothingness, feeling of toughness in their stomachs, yet heads were empty as there came no odd thought. Not that their present condition depended entirely on Keisuke's loss, what worried them had nothing to do with the recently-shaken RedSuns status, nor had it anything to do with the family or pastime, friends or hobbies - there was that secret thing between the brothers that no one dared even start thinking about, yet which bothered still further, musings becoming poisonous and killing.
The fire ball was gradually changing its orange and red into a more-familiar-to-the-eye golden, the star, blazing its yellow rays across the gray-blue canvas, decorating the skyline, painting it in miraculous and rare tints and hues, the view so ordinary, so natural for an average person, whilst for a true artist, a connoisseur of beauty it had its own unique charm, the moment of rapture, admiration, delight. Meaning a lot more than creature comforts or physical pleasures or material things, it went deeper right into the bottom of the soul, awaking the sense of beauty.
They both have experienced these breathtaking minutes for many times but ignored them now, finding nothing ever-so special about the sunrise, having learnt there was nothing out of the ordinary in dawn, forgetful why they have chosen 'RedSuns' as the name of the team. It used to mean a great deal back then, in the past, now the hidden meaning lost upon the brothers as they thought of the team as of a mechanism, something that never breaks or goes out of order, both Ryousuke and Keisuke blind to the whole greatness of the word, the material side of the RedSuns attracting more than the name itself; it had come out of nowhere like a sparkle and soon died out and began to sound like any other compound word, nothing beyond seven letters, nothing but an English word pronounced with the Japanese articulation. What it was for others was a way opposite thing - 'RedSuns' sounded like exclamation, it shone, it shimmered, it burnt like the sun. Once seen written on the car, passersby and racers immediately got it that the vehicle belonged to none other than a RedSuns' member; once said aloud, the name caused excitement, and 'wow!'s' , and 'ah!'s', this meaning how popular the rotary engine kyoudai were.
Ryousuke ventured to close his eyes, shifting onto the right side. 'Problem kid, no exaggeration,' ran across his mind as he sighed, summing up things, meanwhile the younger brother tried his hardest to quieten billions of invading ideas, slamming his forehead time and again, this movement of little use, if any.
"Oh Keisuke, honey, you don't look very healthy," the woman came up to her son and chided.
"Oi, kaa-san!" Keisuke hurriedly got up from the sofa, knowing for sure he would have to listen to a couple of lectures concerning his recent offence.
He felt exhausted, lack of sleep and nervousness telling on his actions, ragged and harsh, speech uneven as if he was tongue-tied; he inwardly wished his mom saw his fatigue and unwillingness to answer questions. 'I gotta be evasive,' he decided.
"Anou…" he suddenly felt very uneasy. "Kaa-san, who told aniki where I was? It was a phone call, ne?"
"It doesn't matter, Keisuke. What's done is done, we will talk about it later," the level baritone, whose unmistakable owner no one would confuse, stated, as the elder went down the stairs to break the dialogue just-started.
"No escape from him," Keisuke whispered under his nose, suspecting his brother of eavesdropping.
He often compared Ryousuke to Sherlock Holmes, this type of men who appeared in a crucial moment in a complicated situation to solve the problem just by their presence. None the less, Keisuke had not one reason for complaint, for the elder has always been there, helping him out of trouble or shielding from a severe parental punishment in his childhood on far more than dozen occasions.
The one on the stairs looked pretty wasted, and Keisuke bet mother would wonder why his face as well as clothes was seedy - and the blond was right.
"Ryousuke, dear, what's happened to you?" the woman gasped and went up to her son in broad steps; his pallor, almost greenish, had her anxious.
The eldest member of the family, even-tempered, serious and unemotional (Ryousuke's composure inherited from him) left the bedroom just now, hoping to resolve the problem, if there was one, or put an end to whatever disorder, because a rather suspicious commotion in the living-room had awakened him, much to his displeasure.
"It's still morning and so eventful already! What's going on here?" his loud voice sufficient to mute all sounds in the huge house, notes of irritation echoed through the space. The wife let him know it was alright, her gentle smile always enough to calm him down. No one ever contradicted the head of the family, and although unbearable at times, everyone had to put up with his opinion, fulfil his orders, listen to his every word with eyes down, be humble, meek and submissive - the custom near impossible. The FD driver complained the most, and envied Ryousuke who was good at shutting up at the right moment whereas his mouth kept babbling until he got his just deserts.
Mother and father's talk slipped in the background, the dissonant music of a silly argument fading for Keisuke as he fixed his eyes on one tall dark-haired male in the room, for a brief moment he thought he'd better get out and avoid this incinerating green burning him alive, but he lingered on and averted his look.
"Keisuke," there followed a millisecond pause that seemed endless; the voice, deep and smooth, velvet-like, faltered, having the blond at attention. "Go ask who's that one who had overtaken you. Be there at seven sharp."
The boy barely understood what he told him, his mind far, outside the earth perhaps. He had heard the directions but his brain failed to process the information, the only thing he registered was that mesmerizing voice in his head.
"Hai," he snorted when it sank into his mind finally, and left the room for the garage, fumbling about in his pocket tor the FD keys.
He looked sleepy, unhealthy, badly needing a few hours of a good slumber, the night 'on guard' resulting in yawning and closing and opening his eyes as he headed for the car's abode.
What the elder has just done for him was invaluable, he's saved him from the awful family thing called interrogation, or thorough examination, a kind of torture any child is acquainted with, and this time, like many times before, Ryousuke took the blame, put it on his own shoulders, saying it was his fault that they had returned so late; he spilled the light on the night's events, focused on the correct order of things, presented the story in an even, strictly Ryousuke-ish manner.
Inwardly thanking god that the younger wasn't around, Ryousuke was choosing the correct tactics as he narrated the tale about the night trip; he sighed in relief when his brother went out, otherwise Keisuke might have spoiled his very-thought-out as well as partly-untrue story, and he didn't want Keisuke to stammer or get under his feet anyway, herewith ruining the excellent plan of his.
"Anything else to add, Ryousuke?" father's question sounded suspicious when the genius driver came to the end of the story.
If only he could get into his son's brain! He would be shocked to see the falsity of his offspring's words. Luckily, the Takahashi was not a mind-reader - a professional doctor yes, but not a telepath.
"Iie," Ryousuke wanted to be through with this sort of ordeal, hasn't he told him enough?
The meeting, the people, the cars, the surroundings, Keisuke's practice, what else did father want to hear? Yet he felt an urge to know more, as though sniff it out, so he raised one eyebrow, and asked,
"Hontou? Sou ka," and drilled the son with his gaze, even more incinerating than Ryousuke's, another leading question ready, interrogation turning into cross-examination where he tried to expose Ryousuke as a liar. "Favor me with an answer then, how come it took you so long to get home if you told me you had found your brother right on arriving? Why did it take you three hours to get back home instead of normal one? What have you been doing all this time?"
The seemingly brilliant story was about to collapse, he had made an error, and now, with no suitable phrase prepared, he had to think quickly and carefully; he giggled awkwardly, and started with an interjection,
"Eeto…"
Keisuke meanwhile felt a good deal better, he was far from the ominous spot and completely unaware what mess his aniki was in. He wasn't that much cheerful, riding along the freeway towards a gas station to fill up the vehicle's almost empty tank, mentally searching for answers hurling upon him. None of the people asked helped to get the name of the Akina's racer, so he found it most useless to torment every single man with one and the same question. Besides, he could always win back, couldn't he? He still hardly believed in what had happened on the pass - this white shame, he won't repeat it, his battle on Saturday will come as proof.
"Same old routine, Keisuke-sama? I could… you know… help you while away an hour or two."
He looked up from his salad at a young man standing near the table, so openly offering his 'help', but there was no need to react at the greeting since the Takahashi was used to phrases like this in cafes and restaurants where many of his fanboys, and fangirls too, dropped in to get an autograph or whatever they wanted from him, and this time seemed no exception. 'Dregs of society will always spy on us. I wonder if dressing-up might help,' the FD owner reluctantly sized up the newcomer, greatly discontented by the interruption. He had come to the Family's to dine alone, then made himself comfortable at the table near the window when the stranger disturbed him unexpectedly. To tell the truth, Keisuke liked to be the centre of attention, adored praise and compliments, especially these coming out of Ryousuke's mouth; what he hated angrily was moments of broken privacy, and he secretly asked himself if there were candid cameras installed in bathrooms in their house.
"No," Keisuke put on an air of indifference, chewing on a lettuce leaf and a sentence to laugh it off. "Just thinking about a brand-new dreamy sports car that beat me on Akina the other night. Gotta find the owner and outbid it, not to let it defeat me next time, like I always do. Do you by chance know him?"
This said, he smirked at the 'new dreamy sports car' sarcastic words which were not in the least close to the truth. The boy's eyes blinked twice in total misunderstanding, he was utterly surprised to hear about Keisuke-sama's defeat and even more blown away by the words about a potential purchase – does he buy all cars that outrun him in this case?
"Relax. Kidding," the blond sipped at his coke before adding. "You seriously think there's a car better than mine?"
His tone sounded non-threatening but he succeeded in driving the point home, and the admirer chose to let him be, his service not needed.
Keisuke ended his meal, leaving a couple of bills on the table after reaching into his back pocket to retrieve them. Hungry. Ryousuke's been drilling it into him not to eat fastfood and replace cheeseburgers with fresh vegetables, and fries with fruit. "Like I'm any cow to chew grass!" the hot-tempered guy concluded, storming out of the café towards the nearest McDonald's to have something more substantial. His brother's healthy diet, or whatever he called the stuff he forced into himself, had Keisuke all fretful, and becoming a vegetarian was not in his plans - wasn't he a male who needed meat? He was, since the rumbling stomach was still reminding of it, a plate of greens not enough to satisfy his appetite.
The rest of the afternoon spent aimlessly driving from vending machines to superstores until the blond-haired man decided it high time he returned home, luckily without the usual entourage in the face of fans - oh, he hated it when they followed him all the way to the house, running after the car - he wasn't that epic, or was he?
Ryousuke was enthusiastically typing something, long fingers moving fast over the keys, eyes focused on the laptop screen as numerous layouts changed one another; he was deep sunk in work when a double knock at the door distracted him.
"'m coming in."
'Must be appalled at what I've prepared for him,' thought he, then turned in his swivel chair to look at the otouto, who sat down on his bed.
A short talk between the two concerning Keisuke's discoveries about the incident on Akina and its zero outcome followed by awkward silence seeming very weird, so unlike usual brotherly conversations they've got accustomed to. Ryousuke saw his younger's uneasiness and started off with that same queer chuckle,
"We're half-unmasked. Father asked me how come it took us three hours to get home today."
A sign of curiosity crawled on his face as he scrutinized the guy with precise attention. The one seemed in stupor as his eyes slowly widened, he actually looked like chameleon turning deep red from his natural pale color, face blushing, throat extremely dry, goosebumps covering his back.
"N- nani?" he exclaimed hardly believing his ears whereas Ryousuke gave a short laugh and moved a little closer to Keisuke so as he thought it an ideal moment for the otouto to experience the displeasure and inconvenience and fear that he had felt in the morning. "Wha- what did you tell him?"
That sounded like a mouse talking to an elephant, Ryousuke being the latter as he was obviously mocking, lovingly, but still mocking at the other Takahashi.
"The truth," he swirled around to face the working laptop - wasn't he a reigning champion at the moment?
Keisuke felt an urgent need of a cigarette or two, better three, this depending on the length of the story he was about to hear and the time required to regain from shock, the present state of his.
"Don't screw with me!" the boy challenged him, clenching bedsheets as he was sitting on Ryousuke's bed.
There was no reply, sound of typing instead.
"Namenna yo!" he had enough rage and strength to hit the unsuspecting brother but would never forgive himself should anything lamentable happen, so he poured his evil on the computer, coming up to his aniki and the hellish machine, and then slamming it with one hard rapid bang. The lid shut with a loud crack before Keisuke continued in a malicious, almost intimidating tone – burst of emotions found little escape,
"Now you gonna tell me everything. Every fucking detail of that talk. All of it!"