Chapter Text
“That’s it folks! We’re starting off the new season with the leads of Tenshouin- And it seems like Itsuki is falling behind! Has he fallen off his mark?”
“That’s right there-” the second commentator chipped in. “The once retired racer is now back on the track after a devastating accident involving 12 racers- and now after almost three years of inaction- Itsuki seems ready to give the cars a chance again.”
Down to the crew, Miya watched Shu. It’s true that Shu did fall behind - three positions at least nonetheless, but Miya knew that Shu was one of those people who…was more of a late game player. He glanced over to the rest of the crew and shook his head.
“Give him time.” Miya said. “It’s not like Kagehira-kun can’t hold us on his own.”
Even with his gloved hands on his steering wheel, Shu could feel the sweat forming on his palms. He was filled with many emotions- honestly he wasn’t even sure if he was severely embarrassed at himself or angry that he was doing badly.
He stared at the cars in front of him. Positions are ever changing in the first few laps, with Amagi, (the older one) in front of him directly.
Shu took a deep breath, his grip tightening on the wheel as the car rumbled beneath him, the engine’s growl almost like a heartbeat. The track ahead stretched out, a blur of curves and straightaways that seemed to challenge his every move. He could feel his chest tightening, and despite the cool breeze through the window, his palms were slick inside his gloves.
Amagi's car, sleek and poised, was just ahead of him, moving with the familiar wild style that seemed to , although under his pretenses of… honestly Shu didn’t know how to describe Rinne. He could admit that he was a veteran of his own right, there’s a reason he’s his own leader of his team. Shu, on the other hand, was still fighting to keep his composure. The previous laps hadn’t been kind. Every time he tried to push harder, to overtake, he felt like he was losing control, his nerves getting the better of him.
But that wasn’t who he was.
“Get it together”, Shu told himself. “This is your race. You’ve trained for this.”
He flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror for a split second, taking in the cars behind him, but the thought of falling back wasn’t an option. He was already in such a bad position, but overtaking Rinne was what he needed to break through. He could feel Amagi’s presence in front of him, as if there was a weight pushing down on him, reminding him of his own flaws. But it was just that—experience. And experience was something he did have, something that could be overcome with focus.
The next corner approached, sharp and deceptive. Shu had been through it a hundred times in practice, but the pressure now made everything feel like it was happening for the first time. Just breathe. Trust the car, he reminded himself.
He shifted his focus to the wheel, steadying his hands, relaxing his shoulders. He stopped thinking about the competition, stopped worrying about the outcome, and started thinking about the rhythm of the car—the way the tires gripped the road, how the suspension leaned just so on the tight turns, how the engine hummed beneath him. It was a symphony, and he needed to be part of it, not an outsider looking in.
As they reached the next bend, Shu felt the tension in his body ease. His foot pressed down slightly on the accelerator, just enough to feel the car respond, but not so much that it threw him off balance. Amagi’s car was just a few feet ahead, but there was something different now—something more assured in Shu’s movements.
He took the corner with a bit more speed than before, trusting his instincts, not overthinking it. The car followed his lead, and for the first time that day, he didn’t feel like he was fighting it. He was in tune with it.
As they exited the corner, the straightaway was in front of them. He could see the gap between him and Amagi beginning to close. It was small, but it was real. Shu’s heart raced, but this time it was with excitement, not fear.
The next turn was coming up quickly. He knew this was his chance to capitalize on the momentum he’d built. He had to take it.
Without hesitating, Shu eased into the turn, but this time he was aggressive—shifting up a gear just as the car’s tires bit into the asphalt, sending them hurtling through the curve with precision. Amagi’s rearview mirror filled with the sight of Shu’s car, now just inches behind.
Shu’s pulse quickened, but this time, it wasn’t anxiety—it was the surge of confidence, of control. He was no longer just reacting to the track, to Amagi, to the pressure. He was driving the race. He could hear the engine's roar as it responded to his command, the feeling of the car becoming an extension of his body.
With one last, calculated push, Shu took the inside line on the next corner, threading the needle between Amagi’s car and the track barrier. The older driver tried to block, but Shu was already there, ahead, inching past with a burst of speed.
For a moment, he couldn’t believe it. His breath was shallow, his mind racing, but he couldn’t stop the grin that pulled at his lips. He was ahead now—he’d done it.
“And Shu Itsuki has a breakthrough! He’s successfully taken over RInne Amagi off 12th place- and Amagi is still hot on his trails! Tuning in to Crazy:B’s team radio- there we go. How about it. Rinne?”
Rinne’s laugh cackled on the system.
“Knew he was hiding something. Looks like I won another bet.” Rinne sneered.
“Don’t get too confident Amagi-” Shu responded back on his own teamline, hearing Miya’s boisterous laughter from the other end. “You still have a long way to go.”
Shu’s pulse was still pounding in his ears as he crossed the finish line for the first lap, now comfortably ahead of Amagi. But there was no time to celebrate. His focus snapped immediately to the road ahead. In the distance, Kagehira’s car—the unmistakable red machine—was sitting in 8th place, a few positions away, but the gap between them was growing ever wider. Shu could see Kagehira’s smooth lines on the track, effortless as always, and the thought of catching him only made his heart race faster.
Kagehira... Shu thought, teeth gritted. You’re not getting away that easily.
He wasn’t going to let that distance intimidate him. He’d just gained confidence with his pass on Amagi, and now he needed to build on it.
The track ahead was long, winding, with a few sections where overtaking would be possible, but only if he stayed calm. Focus, Shu reminded himself. Kagehira’s good, but so are you.
He narrowed his eyes at the back of Kagehira’s car as it twisted around a series of tight turns. The gap was still there, but it wasn’t impossible. Shu set his sights on closing it. His hands were steady now, his grip light but firm, feeling every shift of the wheel, every dip and rise of the track. The car felt like an extension of his own body now, moving as one.
As they entered the next straightaway, Shu pressed down on the accelerator, feeling the engine hum in response, the sound of the exhaust roaring in his ears. Kagehira’s car was now just a few hundred meters ahead. With every turn they passed, the gap shrank, slowly but surely.
Kagehira doesn’t make mistakes, Shu thought, studying the way his teammate maneuvered through the curves. He’s a master at keeping control.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way past. Shu’s eyes darted ahead, looking for opportunities—where could he make his move?
The next sharp corner was a tricky one, the kind that made most drivers hesitate. But Kagehira, as always, took it with perfect precision, a smooth arc that set him up perfectly for the following straight. Shu bit down on his lip. He couldn’t afford to be so cautious anymore; if he hesitated now, Kagehira would be gone.
When they hit the straight, Shu pushed the pedal harder, the car responding with a burst of power. He could see the corner approaching—the one that would set him up for the final stretch where he could take a real shot at passing Kagehira.
Not yet, Shu told himself, keeping his foot steady. Wait for it.
Kagehira’s car hit the curve just ahead of him, maintaining a flawless line. But there was a slight twitch, just a flicker in the way his rear tires slid. For a moment, it was barely noticeable—just a whisper of an imperfection. It was enough.
There. Shu’s mind locked onto it. He saw the opening.
With a sharp flick of the wheel, Shu dove into the inside line, braking a fraction later than usual, but with more control than he’d ever felt before. The car followed the new line, the tires gripping the road with precision as the rear end slid ever so slightly before it corrected.
Kagehira’s car was still a few feet ahead, but now, Shu was right beside him.
His heart was hammering in his chest, but there was no fear anymore—only the pure rush of the race. He knew this was his moment.
The next curve loomed. Kagehira was already positioning himself, but Shu had the inside track. He pushed his car just a little bit harder, threading the needle between Kagehira and the track’s edge.
This is it!
Shu could feel his car responding, its tires gripping the asphalt as if it were born for this kind of moment. He slid in front of Kagehira, the two cars almost side by side for an instant before Shu surged ahead, inching past his teammate in a blur of red and blue.
For a brief moment, Kagehira’s rearview mirror was filled with the sight of Shu’s car—a quiet, unexpected challenge. But Shu wasn’t looking back. His eyes were on the road ahead now, on the goal, on the finish line. The gap to Kagehira had closed, but the race wasn’t over. There was still time to push.
Shu’s confidence was building with every lap. He knew the pace he needed to keep, the timing required to catch up to the next few cars ahead. But more importantly, he knew that, for the first time in a long time, he was in control. Kagehira had been his benchmark—the one to chase, the one to catch. And now, with the thrill of the pass behind him, he was ready to set his sights even higher.
The crowd’s cheer was distant now, a hum in the background. What mattered was what was happening on the track. Shu was moving. He was no longer afraid of what was ahead. The race had become his—every turn, every shift of the gears. All that mattered now was the road, and he was driving it.
Kagehira wasn’t done, though. Shu knew that much. His teammate would come back strong. But Shu was ready for whatever came next. Because now, he wasn’t just racing to keep up. He was racing to win.
Mika sat in the team’s pit, his arms crossed as he watched the race unfold on the big screens. His eyes never strayed far from Shu’s car—now, in 9th place—slowly working his way up through the field. His heart tightened every time the cameras zoomed in on Shu, knowing the pressure his teammate was under. He had seen it all—Shu’s nervousness at the start, his earlier mistakes, the way the car had slipped under him. But now, as the race stretched on, Shu was starting to show something different.
The commentators’ voices filled the air, their excitement growing with every passing lap. Mika didn’t need to hear them to know what was coming. He could already see it for himself, but the words only confirmed what he felt.
"And look at that! Shu, who started off shaky, has started to make a real move! He's closing the gap on Amagi and has already passed him. This is a stunning turnaround!"
Mika’s lips tugged into a small, proud smile, though he couldn’t help but feel a tight knot in his chest. He had always known Shu had potential—it was just buried under layers of self-doubt and hesitation. But now, watching him slice through the field with a new kind of purpose, Mika felt something shift. His teammate was growing. He was shedding his fears, the hesitation that had held him back, and Mika could feel it.
"Incredible! The way Shu is pushing now, it’s like a completely different driver out there. He’s found something—confidence, maybe? He’s just overtaken Amagi, and now he’s closing in on Kagehira!"
Mika couldn’t help it. His gaze flicked from the screen to the pit, then back to the track. He knew Kagehira. The man was an animal on the track—calm, controlled, always ahead. But now, the space between Kagehira and Shu was shrinking by the lap. It was a battle of wills. Kagehira wasn’t going to let up, but Mika could tell Shu was finally hitting his stride.
"And there it is! Shu's in striking distance of Kagehira! This is shaping up to be one of the most exciting battles of the race, folks!"
Mika leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the race. He didn’t want to get too hopeful. It wasn’t like Shu to let his emotions get the better of him—he was quiet, reserved, almost too self-critical—but Mika couldn’t help but feel a little thrill run through him. He knew exactly what this felt like: the frustration, the determination, the little flickers of confidence that started to build into something bigger. Shu’s turning a corner of his own, Mika thought.
He remembered back to their training sessions together—the way Shu had always been quick to analyze his mistakes, always pushing himself to do better, but rarely allowing himself to celebrate his successes. He was his own harshest critic. Mika had seen it. But today was different. Today, Shu was starting to trust himself.
The commentators were still excited, talking about Shu’s pace and the way he was driving with more aggression than they had ever seen.
"I have to say, folks, Shu has completely surprised us today. From a rough start to a steady climb through the ranks, he’s proving he’s got what it takes. And don’t forget, Kagehira might be ahead now, but Shu is all over his rearview mirror!"
Mika’s eyes flickered to the monitor, where Shu was now less than a car length behind Kagehira. The battle was on, and Mika could almost feel the tension in the air. His heart pounded with every move Shu made, every calculated turn, every tiny adjustment in his driving that showed he was learning, adapting, growing.
He could feel it deep in his chest—this was the moment. The moment that Shu had always been waiting for, the one where all his practice, all his effort, came together. Mika couldn’t be prouder. He was watching his teammate become the driver he knew he could be.
As Shu inched closer to Kagehira, Mika’s fingers gripped the edge of his seat. He felt like he was there on the track with him, every ounce of focus and determination translating through the screen. Shu was no longer just chasing a spot in the race. He was chasing his potential, and Mika was watching it unfold in real-time.
"And look at that! Shu’s going for it! He’s not just following Kagehira now—he’s overtaking him!"
Mika couldn’t help but let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The gap between the two cars narrowed, and then— it happened . Shu’s car surged past Kagehira in a smooth, clean maneuver. Mika’s heart leapt in his chest as he watched the red car slip behind Shu, the two cars practically trading positions on the track.
"Unbelievable! Shu has just passed Kagehira! What a performance!"
Mika let out a small, satisfied laugh, shaking his head. He knew Shu had it in him. He knew it all along. And now, watching the race unfold before him, Mika felt a rush of something deeper than just pride. It was a shared understanding, the kind that only a teammate could feel— Shu was finally here.
“Getting cocky are you?” Miya chuckled.
“Hmph.” Shu said, changing gears. Mika was still behind him by a bit.
The next six laps were uneventful, Shu made it past 6th, and maintained it all the way as he passed onto the finish line. Mika came right at 8th.
Mika leapt right at Shu, earning a grunt from the taller man.
“Oshi-san! You did it!”
Shu lightly pushed Mika off him. “You call that a success!?”
Mika sighed, getting Shu’s helmet as they pulled to their area. “Well…we were all pretty nervous bout ya’ first comeback. You’re still very rusty.”
Shu frowned. “Well! That is no excuse. I just need time.”
Mika shrugged, both of them now back in the quieter corner of the arena where the team could catch their breath. “Guess we’ll give ya’ time then, Oshi-san. But, ya know... it’s not easy, coming back after so long.”
Shu took off his helmet, shaking his head as he ruffled his hair. "I know that, Mika. I’m not an idiot. But I hate being... rusty." His words were sharp, frustration lining his voice. It wasn’t just about the performance; it was about the feeling of being behind. He hated that feeling.
Mika gave him a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, you sure made it interesting. Gave us all a heart attack there, ya know? Thought you were gonna faceplant on that last turn."
Shu shot him a glare but couldn't entirely suppress the hint of amusement in his expression. "I'm fine. I just need to adjust." His voice softened, and his posture relaxed slightly as he sat down, setting his helmet on the ground. "This is… harder than I thought it’d be."
Mika crouched beside him, still holding onto the other pieces of equipment. "You did well, though. We were all behind you, Oshi-san. It’s just, well... it’s a lot to expect perfection after being away."
Shu’s eyes flickered briefly toward the arena’s edge, where the cheers still echoed faintly in the background. "It doesn’t matter. I set the bar high for myself. If I’m going to come back, I don’t intend to stumble."
"Yeah, but you’re human, Oshi-san. It’s okay to not be perfect, sometimes," Mika said, offering a reassuring smile. "You’re doing great. You’ll get there."
Shu exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair again. "I suppose. But I don’t need great; I need better. And I’ll keep pushing until I get there." His eyes hardened with resolve.
Mika leaned back a little, clearly understanding the intensity behind Shu’s words. "Well, guess we’ll see you do it, then. Just don’t forget—everyone’s rooting for you, even if you can’t see it. You’ll get the hang of it again."
"Yeah, I will." Shu said quietly, as if making a silent promise to himself.
They climbed up the stairs back. Shu could see the crowds gathering around Eichi, first place yet again.Shu hesitated for a moment at the top of the stairs, his gaze lingering on Eichi. The crowd’s cheers swelled around him, but Eichi’s calm, almost practiced smile remained unchanged. It was as if the applause meant nothing to him, and yet, it was everything.
Shu’s fingers tightened around the railing as he watched the others fawn over Eichi. Some offered congratulations, others simply stared in awe. He knew they all saw the same thing, the perfect performer, the one who always came out on top. But did they know the cost?
Shu’s thoughts were interrupted when Eichi’s gaze flicked over to him. There was a brief, knowing smile, an acknowledgment of his presence—but it didn’t reach Eichi’s eyes. There was something unsettling about that smile, something that made Shu's stomach tighten.
“Oshi-san?” Mika’s voice was a distant ring to his ears. “We’re gonna have a debrief, are ya’ coming?”
Shu tore his eyes away from Eichi. The day will come.