Chapter IX. This Awesome Rattletrap
Both brothers' memories rushed into the past in rewind, mirror reflecting two moveless figures wth fixed gazes, two sculptures seeming dead, ideal sitters for an artist. Seconds passed, bringing in the images from the Saturday night, no word dropped, in silence they were living through what they have been trying to erase for two days.
Keisuke hardly ever suffered a flood of emotions close to this, in a violent rutheless rockslide feelings overwhelmed him, thoughts mingling, as he mentally returned to the moment when the one they had been expecting exited the vehicle, a usual Trueno it seemed. He forgot to breathe as he set his eyes on the driver. He furrowed his eyebrows as uneasiness crept over him, and he sized up the competetor with chill crawling up his spine in a slow unpleasant motion, the chill that little by little transformed into a cold sweat, then descending along his back, such a nasty feeling suddenly registered by Keisuke's brain, all it looked like he was seeing a ghost. As though remembering to take a breath, the blond realized the main reason for the fear, yet, like on many other occasions, the sensitive guy stuffed deeper the mere idea of it. Immediate aversion, disgust, hate boiling within him as the want to reckon with the hachi-roku devil got sterner. A glance to the right, where Ryousuke was standing, might ruin the shivery set-up, so he refrained from looking at his brother, whose eyes could tell him so much, and Keisuke was afraid to look into them, so he stood still. From time to time he found himself weak, unable to resist tempatations, especially when the situation had something to do with the elder. What was it? Was he scared to lose aniki or what? Ludicrous, that's how it sounded, yet, there was a grain of truth in it, no denying, he was afraid to lose the dear one, all the more so because Ryousuke was... a secret crush? Now standing next to him, he prayed lest anyone should see him shaking from head to foot, and this shitty AE hachi-roku, ah, he wished it would never appear.
Meanwhile said 'secret crush' stood slightly trembling too, as if contemplating a miracle, and should anyone see his aura at the moment, it would be blazing-red, since he rested in a sort of shimmering rapture at finally making a visual acquaintance with the culprit - the one Keisuke was cursing for days on end. His delight seemed endless, and even a need for a smoke dispersed as soon as he satisfied his recent strongest desire. Although calm on the outside, there was no doubt the Savanna driver was really nervous, his hands, stuck in white denims' pockets, dug into fabric, struggling to tear it apart, and it was high time he admitted – even though not aloud – he was amazed to have come across a thing like this. It felt like one of such precious moments when mind is a complete blank, eyes seeing nothing but the object of importance, one of rare instances when words turn futile, and nothing but emotions matters. With an ever-so slow exhale the man relaxed, returning from his somewhat wandering fancies back to the earth, as the incarnation of supernal loveliness and innocence looked in his direction, causing yet-discernable blush redden the cutie's soft cheeks, when Ryousuke's ever-pricked-up ears caught his name at last.
"Fujiwara Takumi."
Enough for both of them. That's too much! Keisuke near exploded at what looked to him an intimate contact of the two, simmering with anger, preparing his clenched fists, cuss words on the verge of escaping his mouth, whereas Ryousuke eagerly waited for more, his hearbeat uneven, several strands of hair stuck to a bit sweaty forehead. 'Nice exterior, sweet face, humble voice, so shy... And his driving skills… they still have to be checked. Let's see how well you drive. But all put together makes you a perfect-'
"Aniki! Look sharp!" the younger's request interrupted his musings at once, and the FD's door shut loudly when the blond sat into his car. "I'll tear him to shreds!"
But the warning meant little to Ryousuke as he was in a dreamlike state of mind again, so unnatural to him. He began to think about possibilities, where and when they might be realized, and about many other things no one except him was aware of. Such thoughts used to be buried deep inside his heart, thoughts he had carefully sealed, or at least he believed so, turning them into secrets, never ever letting anyone get close enough to uncover them, even Keisuke, who wanted it badly, and who, too, had things to hide, only in his case these mysteries were on the surface because he was not good enough at concealing them, and he revealed them on a pretty regular basis, and, oh god, sometimes they were unbearable wild uncontrollable needs he failed to resist. This time, however, Ryousuke's desires revealed as soon as he saw this-
"Monster," he enounced in just above the whisper.
Even Takahashi Ryousuke, who was perfect at staying dispassionate, could barely figure out what was going on in his head, his reputation of a thinker, a Solomon, has just ruined. Ideas mixed, making his ever-cool blood start to boil. But so far the genius had to focus on a different thing rather than yeild the suddenly-awoken desire, Keisuke's winning as his wish number one. He made sure he looked serene and composed. Being so devoured in meditation, he had missed the countdown, and revving of the two vehicles, squealing of the tires lost upon him, too, all seeming minor compared to his present speculations.
Meanwhile the otouto's state was far less peaceful. Not only his bragging was not justified, but also the whole race was going downhill, the Toyota chasing, obviously wanting to be the first to cross the line at the end. Abhorred, that was how the driver was feeling, and he hardly remembered a time when he felt that crushed, nothing in the world has ever had him so mad, while the galleries must have been making fun of him, the oh-so-unlucky Takahashi. Humiliation rooting firm inside him, as he worked out that someone else and not him was gaining his brother's love so desperately, and he was going to lose it all. How pitiful, miserable, and scared he looked, pushed by the other guy, unable to get rid of the blinding headlights of the damned car behind, and he cursed over and over. Minute after minute… The ordinary-looking Akina has turned into a hard nut to crack. It was not their home course, but the RedSunsdriver were dead certain of success, everywhere – they were unbeatable after all!
They used to be such.
Even though a skilled driver, Keisuke didn't do it this time, hairpins were the other racer's cup of tea, not his. The blond was going to lose, and wasn't the turbine that must have stopped nor a puncture, it was his fault, it was he, not the FD, who was losing. And Keisuke could almost hear whispers of people and fast-spreading rumors, and scowls and no hello's from friends as he had just stained his reputation. But most importantly, he worried about aniki, how his brother would take it, how he would treat him in the future, what he would say. A cold glare, Keisuke foreshadowed, would greet him when he exited the car at the foothills of the mountain.
Takahashi Ryousuke was surprised, to say the least, his eyes closed, as he tried to regain control, deep in-breaths of little help, body frozen, and for a moment he thpught he might have a heart attack. It looked like one had just had the laugh of him. Not his Akagi RedSuns, not the team, but he himself was buried alive, he felt blood running through vessels to his temples before they started to pound, and wet palms made him feel uncomfortable, and he shivered inwardly, unable to utter a word. He stood there, catching giggles from all sides, along with happy cries of the Speedstars who rejoiced at their victory, while his mouth got dry – he meant to congratulate them, but failed, tongue-tied all at once. He has never dared an idea anyone would beat them, and now, having fallen down from the blue skies, he shattered against the sharp unforgiving rocks, realizing how wrong he had been when thought so highly of himself. They have really made a misjudgment. A correction - he has made a misjudgement. The crew, faultless as they were, got struck by the outsome of the event as well.
What was Keisuke doing after tasting the bitterness of the first official failure, after witnessing somebody else, not himself, as a winner? He needed to go see the sibling. Ryousuke met him tired and depressed with no sign of past vanity or pride – quiet and speechless instead, leaning his forehead against his arms on the steering wheel. Knowing him well, he found it useless to start a talk on the incident. As a leader he could of course say his say, but the wiser part of a brother told him not to.
"I told them we'd have our revenge with the FC. Don't be upset," he came up to the other, tapping of his finger against the window meaning Keisuke had better listen.
Unwillingly, the FD owner left the sports car, his movements like he had run an obstacle race, legs weak, hands in his pockets, he followed aniki leading him somewhere. 'At least he's not praising the hachi-roku guy,' Keisuke snorted, relieved to hear nothing about 'that boy who defeated you', whatever his name was.
The road was clear and illuminated, and the unfortunate guy vividly recalled riding along the smooth cool surface, before he grasped what the elder had in mind, and his question filled the silence,
"Show me the place where you were outrun."
Twenty minutes later, all explanations, rather emotional as Keisuke made them, over, Ryousuke knowing the younger's mistake by that time. The blond was not going to stay still or hide feelings, and therefore poured his indignation on the object closest to him, guardrail as such as it took Keisuke's bumps and kicks, while the more rational of the brothers wondered how long this fit of passion was going to last – the blond was never good at cooling down quickly. And at this moment of fury Ryousuke was thinking about other things, particularly about somebody in the black-and-white car who had caused the whole mess. On the one hand, the elder hated the boy for what he had done to Keisuke and the team, on the other, he admired him, and in any case, he was getting interested in that driver. 'Fujiwara,' body twitching, eyes sparkling brightly at mere recalling his name.
To the second Takahashi everything about the winner was gross, even how his name sounded triggered a grimace, and Ryousuke knew about this. With his beautiful mouth closed, he mentally returned to the pre-battle hour, remembering the fluttering anticipation of an enigmatic somebody.
"After such a long time I feel like I have f a target that truly excites me."
Dumbfounded, as though in a need of checking if what was said was not a dream, the blond turned around.
He froze in an odd pose, since he was frightened; his eyes, these green eyes, reflected fear, and even seeing an apparition wouldn't affect him like this. Just like Ryousuke's once, his throat went dry, and however hard he tried to say anything, the vocal chords refused to produce sound. At that moment all he wanted was shout 'No, aniki!' yet failed, no echo heard, the same serenness of the night around.
Each of them had his own ideas on the sad event, and as a result, the trip back home passed in contemplation, the freeway almost empty with just the two Mazdas riding along it. Street lamps flicked a pale orange light, regularly, one at a second, as they passed them by, and the sight grew unbearable in monotonousness, and they yawned, giving in to fatigue. Gear-shifting, braking, steering, until reaching the familiar driveway of the mansion.
Once there, none was in a hurry to leave the confines of his vehicle. They would have to face each other, but both were unwilling to do so. The reasons for this unwillingness were different, though. Jealousy versus hurt.
'Negattemonai koto,' Keisuke sniffed, deciding to move, at last. He hasted into the house and into his bedroom, where there was no one to reproach or rebuke, the place to feel secured, safe, where even loneliness, unusual to him, always seemed fine, and hereby, after opening the front door, he cried to his brother who was still in the car,
"Just keep it in mind, you gonna fall lower than I did tonight if you have something with this hachi-roku!" he stressed "something". "It's rattletrap!"
He disappeared inside the house.
Keisuke was offended. The insult the elder had afflicted burned painfully, touching the very bottom of his soul, 'Aniki's been too cruel,' he thought. Or was it his revenge for the battle he lost? He felt like he was kicked in the gut, and Ryousuke's final phrase rang in his ears like a thousand of tiny bells, the sound piercing, deafening, and, defenseless, he began to act like a small boy who shut his ears with his hands in order to escape the horrible sound.
Ryousuke, in his turn, spent more time outside, resting in the white car of his, thinking hard. The night has brought a great deal of wonderful yet incredible things, something he couldn't even think of, and thus, he found Keisuke's reaction rather comprehensible. He didn't blame – he felt sorry for him, and so the remark thrown by the blond was quite understandable – pretty Keisuke-ish manner. The thoughts bugging him now were not about how to beat the Trueno guy (even though it was in his plans), but the thoughts a lot more titillating, having nothing to do with racing. Anyway, tonight the RedSuns leader was more pleasantly surprised than sourly disappointed, and, upon summing it up, he locked the RX, and headed towards the porch. The yet-visible moon cast a thin path of yellow light, along which the solitary man walked, like a king pacing up to his throne along the red carpet. Later in the hall, in the brightly-lit parlor, he was greeted with a glass of orange juice, delicious and refreshing, liquid lovingly poured and served by the otouto as a sigh of reconciliation. Ryousuke rejected it, this expression of sincere care. Instead, he passed Keisuke by, silent, indifferent, and at the bedroom's door, came his short comment,
"Say what you like, but rattletrap or not, I can't but admire its awesome magnificence," this said, he closed the door, and Keisuke was left alone downstairs.
A second after came a sound of glass shattered fiercely against the hardwood floor.