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Matsumoto stares at Ryousuke, trying to gauge how serious Ryousuke actually is. Not that Ryousuke has ever been anything but serious with Matsumoto, and most people if what Fumihiro says is true, but there’s a first for everything.
Ryousuke stands on the other side of the shop, just over the threshold between the inside of the garage and the street outside. His FC sits behind him, gleaming in the setting sun. Matsumoto still remembers the first time he saw that car and the large scratches that marred the passenger’s side door.
At the time, Ryousuke didn’t have the knowledge or tools to do anything but trust Matsumoto with the care for his car.
“No.” Matsumoto crosses his arms over his chest.
Ryousuke’s expression twists, his lips twitching to deepen his frown and his eyes narrowing. “And why is that? I shouldn’t need to say this, but you’ll be compensated handsomely, of course.”
“It’s not about the pay.” Although it does irk Matsumoto that Ryousuke thinks he could be bought like this, even if he knows that the odds of Ryousuke intending for it to come off like that are low. “You’re asking me to go to street races as a mechanic. I can’t do that.”
“You already do everything I’m asking you to do here. How is performing repairs and tuning on the mountain any different?” Ryousuke’s voice is flat and neutral, purposely playing innocent.
He’s far too smart not to know exactly why Matsumoto is declining him.
“I can do whatever I want here as long as I ask the right questions.” Tuning cars for better performance isn’t necessarily supporting street racing, even if both him and the driver know exactly why he’s doing this. And he doesn’t have to know that the damages were from street racing if he never asks the question. “But the moment I help you guys out there, I no longer have that freedom.”
And it’s not that he particularly cares about street racing, if he did he wouldn’t be running his shop the way he does, but it would really hurt if his mechanical certification was rescinded.
He’s content with supporting the racers from his shop and taking his Miata out when the roads are quiet.
“We could protect you too—legally I mean. I wouldn’t invite you out if I couldn’t offer you that.” Ryousuke is sincere and completely serious. Coming from anyone else, this would be strange and outlandish, but Ryousuke says things in a way you can’t help but believe it’s normal.
It is intriguing to see Ryousuke this determined. Despite attending a prolific medical school and quickly rising the ranks in the street racing circles, he never seemed fully committed to what he was doing.
“What are you planning that you’re willing to go such lengths for?”
An expression flits across Ryousuke’s face, one that Matsumoto has never seen him make. Ryousuke smiles, small yet immeasurably pleased. “A racing team. I’m going to take the talent we have here in Gunma and shape it into something amazing.”
Matsumoto can’t help it, he gets sucked into the allure of the prospect outlined in Ryousuke’s smooth cadence. “What made you want to start a racing team? You gathered quite the reputation being a lone wolf.”
No matter who asked, Ryousuke never joined another team. By this point, everyone assumed that he preferred it that way.
“My brother.” Ryousuke’s smile softens. “He just started but his racing sense is phenomenal. He’s picking up fundamentals far quicker than I expected.”
Matsumoto has never heard Ryousuke willingly speak about his brother before. One of the first few things Fumihiro advised Matsumoto on, when they went out for drinks and his lips were a little looser than they normally are, was to never bring up Ryousuke’s brother. Matsumoto doesn’t know what happened, but he assumed that there was some bad blood there.
He doesn’t exactly get along with his younger sister, so it’s not like he blames Ryousuke for getting defensive when his brother is brought up.
“Your brother?” Matsumoto echoes, confusion bleeding into his voice despite his best attempts to stop it.
“Keisuke, I don’t know if you remember but I brought him here with me once.”
It was a couple of weeks ago; Ryousuke came in so Matsumoto could give the FC a quick once over after some modifications Ryousuke made. A kid was trailing after him, he couldn’t be much older than 18, with his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Matsumoto would never admit this to Ryousuke, but he looked dangerous. There was a look in his eyes, guarded and protective.
It didn’t help that there were healing bruises down the side of his face and bandages on his temple and around his throat.
“I didn’t know he was a racer. He didn’t seem that interested.” Although, if Matsumoto was completely honest, he caught Keisuke looking at a few cars in the stop at the time with guarded interest when he didn’t think anyone was looking.
Ryousuke grins, sharp. “Give him a few months and you might start hearing about him from your other clients.”
If he has anything close to his brother’s talents, Matsumoto doesn’t doubt that for a moment. “We’ll see. They don’t like to talk about the ones who bruise their egos.”
Ryousuke’s grin widens just a touch, amused. “You could see it yourself, if you want.”
“Now, I already told you, I can’t come to one of your meets.”
“Not as a mechanic—as a spectator.” Ryousuke shoves one of his hands into his pocket and pulls out his keys. “We’ll be on Akagi this Saturday. Think about it, alright?”
Matsumoto can’t help but grin, lopsided and exasperated. Only Ryousuke could say something like that straight-faced. “Sure.”
Until the moment Ryousuke asked the question, Matsumoto expected his answer to be no. But Matsumoto is curious. He wants to see the driver that Ryousuke sees in Keisuke. He wants to see more of Ryousuke's plan as it unfurls.
He wants to hear that quiet determination in Ryousuke's voice again.
Ryousuke narrows his eyes in the way he does when he knows something Matsumoto doesn’t. But whatever he sees, he doesn’t feel the need to mention. He just steps back, giving Matsumoto a curt wave. “I’ll see you around.”
Matsumoto huffs out a laugh. “See ya.”
Ryousuke slips inside the FC, settling into the seat and starting the car. It roars to life, filling his quiet corner of the street with a steady rumble. Ryousuke pulls out into the street and Matsumoto just watches him drive.
Being able to ride shotgun even once while Ryousuke is driving that car is something Matsumoto has wanted to do ever since he saw Ryousuke leave his shop for the first time. Ryousuke knows his car intimately, in a way so distinctly different from the way Matsumoto does.
Matsumoto sighs, rubbing his eyes with a hand. In the end, he can never say no to Ryousuke.