Work Text:
Pushing forward was stupid, he knew this. Unable to open one eye and everything blurry in the other, he was in no shape to keep going for the finish line. The smart thing would’ve been to just get to higher ground and wait out the next round of storms. But Gou gritted his teeth past the pain and kept driving, even as the damaged Mach 5 shuddered and whined. Come on, girl. Just get us down the mountain. That’s all you gotta do. He lifted his foot from the gas as he approached the next turn, shifting a little closer to the mountain wall to avoid the guard rail and sheer drop from the road.
Rounding the corner, a familiar yellow car appeared in the distance. Ani! He tightened his grip on the wheel. The family had recognized him even if everyone else focused on the Masked Racer persona. Two years, seven months, sixteen days. . . Gou pushed forward, chasing after him. Chasing his brother’s shadow was all he’d been doing since he started racing. He pressed his foot on the gas.
Kenichi’s car whipped around a turn, the rear tires drifting wide in a large splash of water. Gou squinted at the spot, adjusting his speed and reaching for the handbrake as he sped around the turn. A tree blocked the road.
“Shit!” Gou hit the brakes. The Mach 5 skidded and slid to a stop on the wet dirt road. Panting, he looked around. The Shooting Star sat beneath the tree. “Kenichi!” He fumbled with the harness and stumbled out of the car. Gou ignored the way everything hurt as he sprinted over to the wreck.
Kenichi shifted, dazed from the impact.
“Ani? Are you hurt?”
“My. . . My leg is. . .” His older brother fumbled with his close-faced helmet, ripping it off before looking at him. He blinked at the bandages Gou had wrapped around his own wounds.
Gou ignored the look. “There’s another wave of the storm coming. We need to get off the mountain.”
Kenichi hissed, glancing at the overcast sky.
“Can . . . can you get out?”
“Maybe…” Undoing his harness, Kenichi reached down and worked his legs free from the tight confines. He braced himself and pushed himself up, hissing and wobbling as he tried to extract himself from the car.
Gou reached in and helped steady him, wincing at the pain that rippled through his arms and ribs at the added weight.
Finally they managed to swing Kenichi’s legs over the door and down to the ground. He hissed and hopped, testing his weight. “You able to grab my emergency kit? It’s under the passenger seat.”
Gou nodded. He looked over the car. The front had been crushed by the tree. Another split second and . . . He shook the thought away. Leaning into the cockpit, he felt under the seat for the cord and dragged the case out of the car.
Kenichi hopped and limped towards the Mach 5. “Come sit down. I’ll patch you up.”
“I’m fine. It’s not as bad as it looks,” Gou lied.
“Those bandages are barely staying on.” Reaching the car, Kenichi opened the passenger door and motioned to the seat. “It’ll only take a minute.”
Gou grumbled. He went and sat down, opening the case for Kenichi and holding it while his brother gingerly eased off his helmet. The rain soaking the loose bandages stung. Gou hissed.
“What the hell happened to you?” He started working, quickly removing the sloppy bandages, and cleaning the cuts. He frowned at the bruises darkening Gou’s skin and the swelling that forced his other eye shut.
“Got thrown but I’m fine.”
“You’re lucky you are able to move let alone see right now.” Kenichi carefully applied new bandages.
"Just leave my one eye uncovered."
“Why?” Kenichi stepped back. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow enough that you won’t get too disoriented.”
“You are not driving my car.”
“You aren’t in any condition to drive.”
“I was doing well enough to catch up with you.”
“And you’re a fucking idiot for trying!”
Gou shrugged.
Kenichi sighed. He went back to carefully treating Gou’s injuries. “Look, I can’t let you drive like this. If something happened to you. . . I’d never be able to live with myself. So please, just–”
“I have to qualify. I don’t care how I place, I just need to be behind the wheel when we cross that finish line.”
“Why do you care so much? I don’t think there’s even anyone left!”
“I just need to, okay?”
Kenichi frowned at him.
“We’ll be fine. I’ve driven in near-blind conditions before. This isn’t much different.”
Kenichi pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is totally different.”
Gou took a breath. “If . . . you’re that worried about me seeing, then be my eyes out there.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I have to do this. Will you help me or not?”
“Stubborn fucking. . .” Kenichi stepped back, motioning for Gou to get out.
He snapped the kit closed and tossed it onto the floor of the car, grabbed his helmet and got out. His hand slid over the car as he made his way around to the driver’s side.
Kenichi got in and slammed the door, pulling his own helmet back on just as Gou fastened his harness and started the car. “Just take it slow and go to the left. We might scrape a few branches so don’t freak out and drive off the cliff.”
Gou huffed, shifting gears. “Few scrapes won’t be the worst thing that’s happened.” He eased around the tree, taking his time as hundreds of thin tree branches whacked and screeched against the side of the car. Easing back onto the road, Gou shifted gears again and pressed on the gas, picking up speed.
They fell silent as Gou drove, carefully making their way down the mountain pass. “So this is what it takes to finally talk to you.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you after every race. You disappear too quickly.” Gou glanced at him. “Have half a mind to think you’ve been avoiding me.”
Kenichi shifted. “Not. . . you specifically.”
“Pops and Kaasan?”
His brother looked out the window in silence.
“They miss you too, you know.”
He shifted his leg and kicked something that jingled on the floor. Bending forward, Kenichi picked up the stuffed toy from by his feet. “Your copilot?” He shook it, making the bell on the handmade collar jingle again.
“It’s Kurio’s. He left it in the car when he was playing before the race.”
Kenichi nodded, fiddling with the monkey’s arms. “You used to do the same thing. You’d hide in the car until it was time for me to get out to the track and you’d complain when Pops made you get out. And I’d always find some toy tucked into the seat or on the floor partway through the race.”
“I had to make sure you finished somehow.” Gou snorted, “at least you only ever found toys. Imagine finding a stowaway halfway through a race.”
A loud laugh rang throughout the car. “Oh I would pay money to hear that radio conversation.”
“I’ve never seen Kaasan so mad before. Pops was as red as his shirt and practically billowing smoke.”
Another laugh. It sounded good to hear Kenichi laughing again. Gou grinned. “Kurio was grounded for three months. Wasn’t allowed to even go outside without Pops or Kaasan there with him.”
“Does she still do the seiza thing?”
Gou nodded and winced as a throb of pain shot through his temple. “She’s not always successful getting him to sit through it but I think that night was a record.”
“God, how many times did we end up sitting there?”
“Too many,” Gou grumbled.
“It was always your fault, of course.”
“Oh fuck you, I’m not taking credit for all of that.”
“The amount of trouble you got into, I’m surprised you didn’t pick more of a trickster name for racing.”
Gou felt his shoulders tense up. “Well, Pops is the one that named the Mach 5.”
Kenichi tilted his head. “I meant more your whole stage name.”
“It’s not.” Gou swallowed. He was thankful for his gloves, hiding the whites of his knuckles as he tightened his grip on the wheel. I’ve wanted to tell him for ages so why do I feel sick thinking about it now?
Kenichi raised an eyebrow but waited for him to continue.
Gou took a steadying breath. “Gou’s . . . my name now. Has been since I was 13.” He licked his lips, “So . . . if you could call me that.” The silence that fell over the car was suffocating. Gou adjusted his grip again, the leather creaking in his grasp.
“Gou . . . huh?” Kenichi’s voice had gotten softer. “It’s a good name. It suits you.”
Sighing, Gou’s shoulders dropped.
“That’s the name of one of Kaasan’s relatives, right?”
“Great-grandfather Gou, yeah.”
“The swordsman?”
Gou nodded.
“Makes sense.”
“Th-thanks.” Gou shifted, flexing his fingers against the steering wheel. “So . . . uh . . . speaking of names, the ‘Masked Racer,’ huh?”
Kenichi snorted. “Believe me, I think it’s dumb too.”
“Then why do you keep using it?”
His brother shrugged. “Some announcer started calling me that and it just stuck. It's too much of a hassle to change it now.” He shook his head. “Kabala thinks it’s hilarious.”
“That reminds me, there’s no way you actually got him to train you.”
“Train might be giving it a bit too much credit. Tried to kill me maybe? Craziest son of a bitch I’ve ever worked with.”
Gou shook his head.
“Keep up your track record and maybe you’ll be unlucky enough to meet him.”
“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Careful with this turn up here.”
Gou eased off the gas as he approached the turn. Once back at a straight stretch, the silence fell between them again.
Kenichi cleared his throat. “So Pops finally got his shop? How’s. . . How’s that going?”
“Slow right now. But it’ll start picking up once I win more races.”
Kenichi nodded.
Gou tapped his fingers on the wheel, drumming away with no specific pattern. “They miss you, you know. We all do.”
His brother looked away. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“Kaasan worries about you every race. I bet. . . if you tried talking to them. . .”
“I can’t.” Kenichi glanced at him. “I’m sorry. I just. . . we didn’t part under good circumstances and I . . . said some things I shouldn’t have. I can’t face them after all that.”
“You don’t know that.” Gou turned his head again, squinting at his brother through swollen eyelids. “My brother wasn’t scared of anything.”
Kenichi made a sound in the back of his throat.
“Can I at least tell her you’re doing alright?” Gou asked.
Kenichi hesitated. “If you want. Doubt she’s really going to care.”
“She will.”
They hit a rough patch of road, gravel and branches scattered over the pavement, forcing Gou to slow down. Kenichi hissed and gripped the side of the door. “Shit, the storm better not have taken out the bridge…”
“Only one way to find out.”