Chapter Text
In the seven years since Takumi had started driving in the BRC, in the nine years since he’d turned pro, in the 11 years since he’d started racing, he’d chased his dream of being the fastest in his own way. His intuitive style of driving had gotten its fair of side-eyes through the years, but with people like Ryousuke-san, Keisuke-san, and even Keiichi-san backing his intuition, Takumi never had any reason to doubt himself. Besides, mechanics were just as superstitious as racers, and his team had learnt to take his word for it when he said there was something off (they appreciated it more when he stuck around to help them figure what it was, though).
He’d just started a pre-season test run, but it wasn’t-.
“I’m turning back,” Takumi radioed in, “something’s not right.”
“Alright, Tak, turn off and- hey!”
“Fujiwara, you literally just left!” His mechanic, Job (whose name Takumi had always thought was quite apt), was interrupted by the new pit boss, Whiting. “You can’t seriously tell that there’s something wrong with the car already!”
“I can and I am,” Takumi said flatly as he started to slow down. “There’s something-.” His car lurched.
“Fuck!”
Bunta started the 86 for the delivery- or tried to. He gave it a couple of tries- she’d started just fine for the usual delivery a day ago. He even tried using the Imp to jumpstart her battery, but nothing seemed to work.
He stared down at her cold and lifeless metal shell.
Something had gone wrong. Something had gone really, really wrong.
Mako knew something had happened when Takahashi frowned down at his cellphone. He stepped out to answer it, but the volume was turned up enough for her to hear a woman, loudly crying.
“Moshimo- oi, Tsugumi, calm down, what the hell-?”
Takahashi stopped dead and his face went white. “What?” he asked faintly.
The woman's crying just got louder.
“I’ll- I’ll call aniki. He’ll know what to do. Fuck. Has anyone called ossan?” Takahashi swallowed back what he might have said next. “I’ll- I need to call aniki. Tsugumi, can you-?” He paused, nodding at whatever the crying woman was saying. “Thanks, Tsugumi.”
Mako crept closer when Takahashi hung up. His hands were shaking.
“Takahashi-kun?”
His head shot up.
“I know everything’s not okay, so how can I help?”
Takahashi’s eyes were wild and red-rimmed. “Takumi- there was a crash.”
Mako instantly understood; her own legs suddenly felt like jelly. “He’s still alive?” she demanded shrilly.
Takahashi’s eyes squeezed shut. “Takahashi-kun!” she insisted urgently.
“It’s- he’s in critical condition,” Takahashi said hoarsely. “They had to freaking airlift him out of a ravine.”
Mako staggered backwards, feeling for the grounding stability of the wall behind her.
“Did- was that the hospital?” she whispered.
Takahashi shook his head. “My cousin, she’s Takumi’s emergency contact. She’s at the hospital with him now.”
Mako wasn’t surprised in the least to hear how Takumi had been all but adopted by the Takahashis. She drew in a deep breath and tried to steady her knees. “How can I help?” she asked again.
Takahashi squeezed his eyes shut. “I should call aniki, but-.” He looked up. “Do you have aniki’s number?”
Yes, she did, and she was just grateful he wasn’t asking how she’d gotten it (it involved Sayuki and an incredibly embarrassing encounter she had no desire to recount).
“Yes, I do,” she said aloud.
“Can- can you call him and tell him? Tell him to call Tsugumi, she’s at the hospital and can get him the details he needs.”
“Sure, but don’t you want to-?”
Takahashi sighed. “I need to call Takumi’s old man.”
“Oh, fuck,” she blurted out.
The curve of his mouth was mirthless. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Mako stepped away to let Takahashi make that frankly horrifying call in private while she tried to reach Takahashi Ryousuke. Despite the years since he’d been Akagi’s White Comet, there was still something quite intimidating about the older man.
Takahashi Ryousuke didn’t pick up the first time, and Mako vaguely remembered he’d been in medical school at some point? She hoped he wasn’t seeing to some kind of medical emergency, but this was one, too.
He finally picked up on the third ring, his terse voice coming through before Mako could even open her mouth.
“Who is this and why do you have my number?”
Mako flushed even though no one could see her. “This is Sato Mako- I’m a driver with-.”
“Sato?” He paused momentarily, before demanding, “Is it Keisuke?”
“No!” Mako exclaimed. “Takahashi-kun is fine. It’s- it’s Takumi-kun.”
Takahashi Ryousuke inhaled sharply.
“There was a crash,” she said, relaying the information as concisely as she knew how. “Takumi-kun is in critical condition, and he’s currently at the hospital. Your cousin is with him- Tsu- Tsu-.”
“Tsugumi,” Takahashi Ryousuke said hoarsely.
“Yes! Takahashi-kun said that she’s at the hospital with Takumi-kun, and can relay all the details you need.”
He exhaled heavily. “How is Keisuke?”
Mako winced. “He’s calling Takumi-kun’s father.”
“Shit.”
“Pretty much,” Mako agreed.
“I’ll call Keisuke,” Takahashi Ryousuke said, already back to his cool, calm self. “Thank you for telling me.”
Mako could tell that he was about to hang up, so she exclaimed, “Takahashi-san!”
“Sato?”
“I know you’ll probably be very busy after this, but could you- could you keep me updated on Takumi-kun’s condition?” she asked. “Even if it’s just by mail. There are a lot of us who care about him very much.”
Takahashi Ryousuke didn’t immediately reply. After a pause, he said very softly, “I hope I’ll be able to convey that to him in-person.”
Mako let out a sob before she could help herself.
“Please,” she managed out, and then hung up before he could hear her cry.
Medical fees wouldn’t be an issue, given how Takumi was still covered under Toyota’s very comprehensive driver’s insurance. Green’s brother was a lawyer and helping with the settlement- the entire pit crew had heard Whiting try to override Takumi’s judgement- had literally heard the sound of his driveshaft snapping as he’d careened into the ravine before his end of the radio had cut to static. There was no contest from Toyota at all, and Whiting had quietly resigned, traumatised by his own poor judgement.
Ryousuke couldn’t give less of a shit about any of it and would have gladly paid all of Takumi’s medical fees out-of-pocket if it just meant he’d open his eyes.
Instead, Takumi was in a medically-induced coma as they rushed him through all the necessary surgeries to stabilise him. Ryousuke had every intention of moving Takumi home once he was strong enough to be transported. Fujiwara-san had deferred all medical decisions to him, with just a request that Ryousuke keep him updated.
“I don’t know anything about this medicine business,” he’d said bluntly. “You’re a doctor, right? Leader-kun. If you’ve put up with Takumi after all these years, you can-.”
Fujiwara-san looked away sharply, unable to speak.
“I will do everything I can to help in his recovery,” Ryousuke swore.
The man had flown to England with him to see Takumi immediately after the accident. Fujiwara-san’s expression had barely twitched, but Ryousuke had known he’d been deeply affected. It was impossible not to be affected, seeing Takumi in that narrow hospital bed, head shaved and bandaged from the emergency surgeries they’d had to do to relieve the bleeding in his brain. Then there was the ventilator he was on, the braces and casts, the catheter- Tsugumi couldn’t stop crying.
“This must be killing Kei-chan,” she’d wept.
It was killing him.
Takumi hadn’t changed the lock since the last time he’d visited, so Ryousuke could easily let himself into his flat with that same spare key he'd made all those years ago. For a moment, all he could do was stand in the entryway and breathe in Takumi’s scent. The flat was still austere, verging on ascetic, with the only personal touches in the bedroom.
Takumi’s clothes were all recognisably the same, even up to the set of sweats he’d stolen from Keisuke and the yukata he’d stolen from him. Recalling what Takumi had mentioned once, Ryousuke opened the desk drawer and found a neat stack of notebooks filled with details about the Celica.
The photos fell out of the second notebook: a set of three, all of them taken at Tsugumi and Green’s wedding. The first was of the five of them, a semi-formal picture with the two brides in their wedding outfits. The second was of the three of them, Takumi tucked under Keisuke’s arm while Ryousuke had a hand each on both of their shoulders.
The third had been taken much later at night, when he and Takumi had fallen asleep on each other and Keisuke was standing behind them, wearing his usual wide, jagged grin. He'd put rabbit ears on them both while they’d slept on, unsuspecting.
These three photos were easily the most personal objects in the room. Exhaling softly, Ryousuke tucked them into his coat pocket and set about packing the rest of Takumi’s things.