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Thursday | Media Day
The pre-race press conference had just ended. Nyamu Yuutenji put down her microphone, making her way back outside through the corridor. Some fans recognized her from a distance, waving and shouting her name. She walked over to see whether they wanted her signature on their shirts or on the caps.
Once she had finished signing, Nyamu returned the pen to the mother who had brought her child along. Then heading toward the team’s garage.
“Leaving already?” one of the team engineers caught up to her on the way back.
“Pretty much. Umiri said there’s no meeting for me. I’m just going back to grab something up before I leave.”
“Not joining data analysis?”
“I’ll leave that to you smart guys. See you at practice.”
“See ya.”
She picked up her bag, only to feel her phone vibrating inside it. Nyamu pulled it out. The first notification that appeared was a message from her teammate.
: I’m at the hotel. Come over for dinner?
As fickle as usual.
From F3 to F2, then four FP sessions a year. Nyamu Yuutenji had spent years working her way, trying to become a full-time driver for Ave Mujica. It was only five years ago that she secured a seat.
On the final night of her rookie season, she crossed the finish line beneath the chequered flag. She finally felt the weight off her shoulders.
A midfield car combined with the lenient standard for a rookie, Nyamu had performed well beyond what the team principal had expected. Umiri gave her three years in advance. She ended up staying for five.
The restaurant at Nyamu’s hotel had a perfect view of Yas Marina Circuit. After nightfall, the lights around the track kept the asphalt almost as bright as it had been during the day.
Sakiko Togawa sat across from her and passed over the champagne they had missed out for an entire year.
“To the team.”
“To the team.”
They both knew, among a grid full of talented drivers, it wasn't only winners who could become the focus of audiences’ attention. But having to say nice things after every race, about a car that had no real chance of competing, would drive anyone insane eventually.
“It’s all in the past now.”
Nyamu handed over the key of her car to the valet. She had a little chat with the front desk staff, then led by a server to their reserved table.
Someone in the corner noticed her and immediately raised a phone to take a picture.
Nyamu waved her hand in the direction of the fans. She doesn't really mind it.
Their table was by the window. A stir rippled through the restaurant when Sakiko arrived.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Sakiko .
“I just got here. We had a little delay with the press conference.”
“What did they ask this time?”
“You know. Some questions about the championship. If you’d been there, they would have chased you down with the exact same questions.”
“Things can change in one day. One moment you’re just making up the numbers. After the summer break, suddenly you’re standing on the podium every race weekend.” Nyamu said.
“Then, should we order champagne?”
Nyamu looked through the wine list. Nothing caught her attention.
“Let’s leave that until Sunday.”
“Did Umiri say anything?”
“She only attended the meeting today. Didn’t talk about us. I have no idea where she went afterward.”
Sakiko called over a waiter and ordered a grilled chicken breast, as light as she usually preferred.
“I’ll have the salmon.” Nyamu added.
After the waiter gave them a brief introduction to the other dishes, they ordered an Italian octopus salad as well.
“This one is on me.”
Ever since they had started working together, taking turns paying had become something of a routine.
“As long as I work here for one more day, every meal is technically your treat. Sometimes the bill even gets sent to headquarters.”
Nyamu pulled a receipt from her wallet, sliding it across the table.
“You really are…”
“I’m kidding. But the Togawa corporation pays my salary, doesn’t it?”
“Then I’ll take it out of your salary.”
Nyamu was still thinking about her career last year. And then, she doesn’t have to worry about it now. From a purely financial perspective, perhaps there were no losers behind the wheel.
She had thought about it many times before—the failed years of her career, the things that didn't work out. If someone had predicted at the start of the season that an Ave Mujica driver would be fighting for the World Championship, everyone would probably have assumed they were crazy.
Nyamu wasn't crazy.
But if she were making a list of the surfers, who were riding along the right wave at the right time, she supposed she would have to put herself on it.
She had already discussed her plans with Umiri. She is willing to stay until the next major change in the regulations. Her contract left some room for flexibility, just in case she lost interest in racing, or the team discovered another young talent in another part of the world.
Just like the way they found her.
Friday | Free Practice
With the assistance of the crew, the car was pushed toward the side of the pit lane. Nyamu started the engine and entered the circuit under instructions from the team radio.
A gentle right turn. Long sweeping toward left. Acceleration down the main straight, follow up by a sequence of corners. Her body vibrates to the sound of the engine, her feet working the pedals the way body told them to.
Maybe it was the same principle as swimming or riding a bicycle. Once the movement started, there were many things she could leave to her muscles—to the rhythm of tension and release.
The blazing sun just past noon baked the circuit until the air above the asphalt seemed to shimmer. The voice on the radio kept on checking the car's condition with Nyamu. The entire first practice session went smoothly.
Nyamu brought the car back to the garage. In her mirrors, several cars from other teams followed her into the pit lane.
She took the water bottle and chugged it all down.
There was still another practice session later, she went back to take a short break. Mechanics gathered around the car to inspect it, comparing tire wear with engine performance. Nyamu didn't have much interest in this part.
Sakiko, on the other hand, seemed genuinely fascinated. After getting out of the car, she followed the engineers around, listening to how they analyzed the data they had collected.
After all,The Togawa corporation owned an engine manufacturer. It will always be a choice if Sakiko ever stopped racing and went back to take over the family business.
Nyamu amused herself with the thought for a moment before enjoying the air con.
The FP2 session proceeded normally at first. Halfway through, however, came through the radio that her teammate's car was having trouble.
“Is she okay?”
The words had barely left Nyamu's mouth while she passed the wrecked car, lifting against the barrier.
“Is Sakiko okay?”
“She’s fine. Yellow flag out. Just watch your speed.”
After practice ended, Nyamu found Sakiko outside the media area. She was signing autographs and taking photos with fans, apparently not upset by the accident earlier.
When the fans around them noticed Nyamu, the shouting only grew louder. She had no choice but to hurry toward Sakiko.
Seeing her, Sakiko handed over the cap she had been holding under her arm.
“I was going to take it back and have you sign it later. Since you’re here…”
She pulled another marker from her pocket. “Do me a favor.”
That evening, Nyamu lay alone on the bed in her hotel room, scrolling through her phone. The media couldn't wait to wrap up the season, including ranking every driver by their performances.
In almost every list, Sakiko was ahead of her.
One article even included a photograph of Sakiko's car hitting the wall that afternoon.
“Never missing a chance to praise you while taking a few shots at the same time.”
Nyamu had no idea what kind of media outlet or influencer some of these morons even worked for. They could take public data they probably didn't understand in the first place, make whatever claims they wanted, and project rumors—or whatever they hoped would happen—onto the race track.
The drivers whose contracts were up for renewal this year were lined up one after another, as though they were paper dolls waiting to be dressed in different team uniforms.
Glad that nobody was making them kiss others.
Well… There probably were plenty of fans willing to make that up for them.
The year Nyamu renewed her contract, rumors had spread everywhere before Umiri officially announced the news.
People claimed she was going back to the team where she had once been a reserve driver, while her seat at Ave Mujica would supposedly be taken by the reigning World Champion.
Nyamu had been furious. She demanded Umiri to settle the contract negotiations properly and quickly. Otherwise, she could leave, which would conveniently fulfill exactly what everyone outside the team had expected.
“People will always find something to speak ill of,” Umiri Yahata told her to calm down. “I guarantee I haven't discussed contracts with any other drivers.”
“So I just have to take your word for it?”
“Reputation matters in this business. If you want to stay here for the long term, connections aren't enough. You need to know how to negotiate, too.”
Nyamu couldn't be bothered listening to Umiri continue reminiscing about her days as a team principal elsewhere. She stared coldly at the engineers working outside the meeting room.
“This is our second year together.”
“Don't like it? The media keeps saying you can't stand each other. I've worked so hard to keep you two from fighting.”
Nyamu glanced toward the garage. “Would it matter if I said I didn't like it?”
“At least Sakiko's performing well. That means there's still room for cooperation. That's pretty good already.”
“Look at the teams that fought each other," said Umiri, "they ended up throwing away the championship.”
She gave Nyamu a knowing look before going back to the office. A moment later, she returned with a stack of paper she had prepared.
“Take these home and have a look. The contract remained the same.”
When news broke that Nyamu had signed a two-year extension with Ave Mujica, plenty of people questioned Umiri's decision. They thought giving up the opportunity to bring a champion into the team was an unnecessary blunder.
Nyamu still remembered one article that had turned the conflict between her and Sakiko into something resembling a soap opera, filling the gaps with speculation from people who weren't there.
There was no point in denying nonsense like that. But saying nothing only meant people would take it as an admission. It wasn't until the fourth year of her career that Nyamu finally learned to stop fighting with the media.
Say what they wanted to hear. Do what they wanted to see. Her reputation would naturally improve. Of course, none of that mattered inside the car.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and prepared for bed. Before turning in, Nyamu opened the last article. The cover photo showed the two of them signing autographs for fans in front of the crowd.
Sakiko was smiling, brightly.
Nyamu pressed the screen and saved the picture onto her phone.
Saturday | Qualifying
“Imagine the pressure Yuutenji is under right now. She's currently p5, behind Sakiko Togawa. She needs to nail every single corner of this lap.”
“That’s right. This looks very promising through the first sector. Yuutenji is just a fraction behind—by three hundredths of a second.”
“Is this Togawa giving Yuutenji a tow? It sounds like they've discussed it over the radio.”
Sakiko kept her speed within the required range on the outlap. Every few seconds, the team radio told her how far behind Nyamu was.
If they couldn't make it work, that was fine too. Umiri had told them before the session to simply do their best.
Nyamu's car appeared in her mirrors. Sakiko picked up the pace, giving Nyamu access to a section of cleaner air with less turbulence behind her.
“It looks like they've confirmed the tow. The two cars are holding their positions beautifully. Come on, come on—there we go!”
“Absolutely fascinating! Purple in Sector Two. Now let's see if Yuutenji can find anything more in the final sector.”
Nyamu opened up the gap between them. She handled the next few corners perfectly as well. The strategy team came over the radio to tell her she had taken the pole.
“Thanks. That was pretty good.”
“Copy. Now it's her turn to set a time.”
“Keep me updated on the gap to her.”
“Copy.”
Nyamu let several other cars that were also on flying laps pass her, positioning herself to return the favor in the same section where Sakiko had given her the tow.
The radio informed her that the gap was down to five seconds. Nyamu gradually increased her speed, keeping herself just a little faster than Sakiko. Not long after she caught up, Sakiko accelerated away cleanly as well.
“Nicely done. Now just bring it back.”
Nyamu heard the radio click off. The vibration of the car gradually synchronized with her heartbeat. The forces through the corners loosened something in her mind, like the shadow of a bowstring swaying back and forth beneath the floodlights.
The sound of the wind mixed with the roar of cars flashing past at impossible speeds. Once the human voices disappeared, Nyamu could hear only a blank, endless noise filling the cockpit.
“Sakiko Togawa is even faster than before! Fastest in sector three as well! Sakiko Togawa takes pole position for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix!”
“And for the final race of the year, Ave Mujica will lock out the front row! What a way to end the season!”
After qualifying, the official F1 interviewer worked their way through the drivers one by one in the area behind the pits. Nyamu was asked what she expected from tomorrow, as well as about the old rumors of friction between her and Sakiko.
“I think everyone has misunderstood the tension between me and Togawa. If there's an incident, or something goes wrong, it's normal to have emotions during a race and after the race. That doesn't mean we can't stand each other.”
“We get along well outside the track too. I thought being seen traveling together during the summer break was enough proof of that.” She added.
I've even had dinner at her house.
Nyamu remembered that, but didn't say it out loud. She let the interviewer naturally move on to the next topic.
During breaks between races, she'd run into paparazzi several times. They would follow her around when she left bars or nightclubs with women, taking photographs all the way before selling them to some sports outlet, where they'd end up on the front page the next morning.
Fans liked speculating about her private life too. Or about whether she had “crossed the line” with other drivers. There were plenty of potential names on the list. Models, Influencers, Athletes, and naturally, her teammate.
That was fairly consistent with her taste and lifestyle, and Nyamu was rather pleased about that. Especially after a video of them throwing caps at each other and losing their tempers in the garage had made its way online.
What the hell do people think is going on?
Nyamu once searched her own name and found a short article pairing her with Sakiko. The accompanying photograph showed her pulling Sakiko out of her car after a race.
It was nothing more than a perfectly normal teammate relationship. A race win is something definitely worth celebrating with a hug.
Around that time, Nyamu realized she had started avoiding talking about Sakiko. Fighting didn't mean they had a bad relationship, and what exactly could a hug between teammates prove?
Having to stand in the pit lane after a race and look up at Sakiko holding a champagne bottle overhead made her feel strangely miserable.
In Nyamu's second year at Ave Mujica, Sakiko had filled the team's other seat. Even as a rookie, her early performances had been considerably better than Nyamu’s.
If someone went back and looked at the comments beneath the race highlights from that period, there would certainly be plenty of people criticizing Nyamu. Team principle must have had a reason for promoting her to a full-time seat.
Officially, they said it was because of her potential. Nyamu suspected her real advantage was that she was simply cheaper than the other drivers. Ave Mujica also had priority when it came to promoting drivers from their own development program.
During her first year, Nyamu had quietly made a decision. If she couldn't show anything worthwhile within three years, there was no reason she couldn't consider leaving once her contract expired.
In her third year, Sakiko's form dipped somehow, and Nyamu unexpectedly became the center of the team. It was only after she had taken several podiums that she finally became willing to talk about all of that in front of the cameras.
Maybe it was simply a grudge. Just as the outside world had assumed, of course she wanted to be noticed. At the same time, she only wanted people to see the good side of her.
If she performed well, her attitude could be naturally good.
Meh.
There had been a time when she thought hard work was enough to earn something that belonged to her.
“Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Get some sleep,” Umiri said.
“I know. The hotel isn't far.”
Nyamu swung onto her scooter, preparing to leave the circuit.
“Sakiko was looking for you earlier.”
“What for?”
“No idea. I remember her saying your tow today was good.”
“Hopefully we can keep it up tomorrow.”
“I believe you can.”
Umiri patted Nyamu on the shoulder. Nyamu rode away without looking back.
Back at the hotel, she ate a simple dinner instructed by the team's nutritionist. On the way back to her room, she spotted several drivers from other teams in the lobby and stopped to chat with them for a few minutes.
The moment she entered her room, her phone rang. It was Sakiko.
Nyamu didn't answer.
Rumor had it, during that year's Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the Ave Mujica team had deliberately over-tuned Nyamu Yuutenji's car before the race without telling the driver.
They assume that the tire deterioration was worse than other drivers’, combined with the car's mechanical problems, the fact that she had been able to hold off Hadjar for five laps during the closing stages of the race, was nothing short of a miracle.
Still, compared with “that night” in Abu Dhabi, the title battle was nowhere near as legendary—not in terms of the drivers' careers, nor in the way they competed.
A night could never repeat itself. But fragments of it would return to the track in different forms, piecing themselves together all over again.
As for this year…
“At best, it was just an ordinary race night.” Nyamu couldn't remember which journalist had said that.
In interviews the following year, Nyamu repeatedly thanked the fans for their support.
She said that while the goal had always been the champion title, she was already grateful for how well things had gone. She described everything that had happened throughout the year as a beautiful dream, and said that she hoped the dream could continue.
Even after she and the team had repeatedly explained the situation publicly, many people still felt that she had been treated unfairly, believing that she had been the victim of unequal treatment within the team.
Of course, they didn't need any evidence.
The day after the race, Nyamu stayed in her hotel room.
She turned off her phone and used a tablet to play Sakiko's interview, along with others .
When the video reached Nyamu's part, she skipped past it before it even started.
Twenty-two cars lined up in formation, the drivers staring intently at the lights hanging across the track ahead.
Five red lights came on, one after another. Then they all went out at once in an instant. Every car launched forward beneath the deafening roar of the engines.
One helicopter captured the start from above.
Nyamu's start was slightly slow. Before she could react, the anti-stall system activated, and the cars behind her immediately swept past. By the end of the first lap, Nyamu had dropped twelve positions.
Every commentator agreed with the decision she had made. She had taken the course of action that minimized the damage at the time.
Then, with several other drivers making mistakes, a Safety Car was deployed just as Nyamu was preparing to pit, allowing her to close the gap to the cars ahead.
Sakiko led from the front, building nearly a five-second lead over second place before the pitting window.
Ave Mujica pulled off a great double-stack pitting, and Sakiko remained in the lead.
TR told Nyamu that if she maintained the current pace, she could catch the leading group by Lap 50.
“One at a time.”
There was still a chance at the championship.
Nyamu raced down the straight. AM’s flags and team colors filled the main straight grandstands on both sides.
Sitting inside the car, Nyamu couldn't tell whether those people were cheering for the team, for Sakiko, or for her.
“Give me my lap time. And the gap to the car ahead.”
“Copy that.”
The video's sound echoed through the bathroom.
Nyamu lay in the bathtub with her eyes closed, replaying in her mind the movements she had made when accelerating past the cars ahead.
Her muscles reacted along with the memory, disturbing the surface of the water. Water splashed over the edge of the tub and spread across the floor.
“What are you doing drinking in the middle of the day?”
If Sakiko were here, she would definitely say that.
Nyamu wasn't planning to drive today. She used the room phone to order room service. She stepped out of the tub, dried herself, and walked back to the desk. Without thinking much about it, she switched the television to a channel broadcasting in a language she couldn't understand.
The smooth voice of the newsreader filled the room, she didn't have to think of how to construct her words. Nyamu changed clothes, lay back down on the bed, and waited for the hotel staff to arrive.
“Room service!”
Nyamu heard the voice, opened the door, and took the bottle of red wine from the attendant.
While doing that, someone across the hallway looked over from beneath the brim of the cap.
“How long have you been waiting here?” Nyamu tried to close the door, but Sakiko caught the handle with one hand.
“How long has your phone been turned off?”
“Eight hours.”
“About that long, then.”
Sakiko opened the door and walked into the room.
“Doesn't the champion have a date of her own?”
Sakiko took the bottle of red wine from Nyamu and casually set it down on a table. Nyamu closed the door, pulled a chair over for her, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Where did you go last night?”
“Nowhere.” Nyamu pointed down at the floor. “I was at a bar. Drinking.”
“Then I'm definitely not letting you drink today.”
Sakiko casually picked up a jacket from the coat rack and tossed it into Nyamu's arms.
“Let's go for a ride.”
Nyamu was surprised that she agreed.
The Persian Gulf in the distance looked deep beneath the setting sun. Waves moved across the sea, already darkening toward night, like a blade tracing a shallow crescent into the sand.
Sakiko's Valkyrie sped along the highway, blending into the flow of city traffic. Every now and then, Nyamu glanced at Sakiko in the driver's seat, wondering where they were going tonight.
Sakiko refused to tell her.
Maybe they weren't going anywhere at all.
Only after the last traces of sunset had disappeared into the night, Sakiko turned the car around, taking a chosen exit back toward the city.
She pulled up in front of a restaurant that looked fairly stylish. Sakiko opened Nyamu's door for her and led her straight into a private dining room.
The staff at the reception desk seemed to recognize her. They didn't come over to ask any questions.
“Thank you.” said Sakiko.
“For what?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, what are you thanking me for?”
“For yesterday.”
“Then you should be thanking your teammate, Nyamu Yuutenji. Not me.”
Nyamu slowly flipped through the menu without looking at her. “I'm on vacation.”
“I called her quite a few times. Unfortunately, my teammate didn't feel like answering.”
“Why do you think that was?”
“Probably because she was drunk. Or because she needed some personal time.”
They called over a waiter.
Nyamu watched Sakiko order and couldn't help clicking her tongue.
“You guessed right.”
“I still want to thank you. As a friend.” Once the waiter left, Sakiko looked at Nyamu.
“Have you heard the rumors?”
“What rumors?”
“About you leaving the team after next year.” Sakiko said it peacefully.
Nyamu looking genuinely confused.
She had always known there were rumors about where she might leave. After several veteran drivers confirmed they would not be in the grid next year. People seemed convinced that Nyamu would move to the other team, providing her seat to the incoming rookies.
“I talked it over with Umiri. I'm not leaving, at least not in next two year. This year's performance was really good. I don't think she's made up her mind about replacing anyone yet.”
“That's good.”
When they left, Sakiko walked over to get the car herself, leaving Nyamu waiting outside the restaurant.
She was wearing Sakiko's cap, the brim pulled low over her face. People passing by occasionally glanced in her direction. Fortunately, nobody recognized her.
“You're not hiding your face very well.”
Sakiko stopped the car and leaned toward her from the driver's seat.
“I wasn't trying to hide.”
“Relax. Looking nervous just makes you stand out more.”
This time, the car finally headed back toward the hotel.
Nyamu sat in the passenger seat, trying to remember when exactly the two of them had started getting closer.
Close enough to take trips together during their vacations.
Close enough to rent a car together when a flight home had been diverted.
Close enough to sit beside each other on the same bed and talk about what they planned to do next.
“Umiri's calling you.” Back in Nyamu's room, Sakiko handed her phone to Nyamu.
“You really aren't turning your phone back on?” said Sakiko.
“Who cares? Hello?”
“You're with Togawa.”
Umiri's voice came through the phone.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing.”
Nyamu could hear the smile in Umiri's voice.
“I was just curious. I thought you two had a fight.”
“I'm not a fighting guy.”
Nyamu glanced at Sakiko.
“I just wanted to ask if you're going back to headquarters first. I don't think you have any media appearances scheduled immediately after the race.”
“I'll go home. It's been a long time since I've been back.”
“Okay. I'll contact you if anything else comes up,” Umiri says. “Remember to turn your phone back on.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Nyamu clearly didn't listen.
She handed the phone back to Sakiko, browsing forum posts on her tablet.
Someone had photographed her at the bar the previous night. Combined with the fans' explanations, the story had become “A driver who lost the championship because of her team, drank away her frustration.”
Perfect.
“They really went to a lot of trouble to make up a story.” Sakiko says, standing right behind Nyamu.
“I'm going on vacation anyway. With no races to watch, this is what everyone wants to see the most. I just hope the fans still remember I exist next year. Every year.”
“Do you remember last year's rumor?”
“Which one?”
“After Suzuka.”
“You've remembered that for this long? Just a video of the team owner's daughter arguing with her teammate. The adorable Sakiko got so angry that she pushed Nyamu up against the wall. Is that really such a big deal?”
“Try having reporters chase you for three weeks and then say that.”
“Maybe that's about to happen again.”
Nyamu suddenly pulled Sakiko toward her. Sakiko lost her balance and ended up falling against the bed.
Her phone clicks.
“Like this.”
“YOU SON OF A—”
Sakiko immediately reached for the phone.
“Delete it!”
“What’s the harm? Just think how many followers this could get us—”
“Give it to me!”
The two of them struggled over the phone, each trying to pull it away from the other. Eventually, Sakiko gave up.
“Fine. Do whatever you want. I'm leaving.” Sakiko grabs her jacket.
“You’re leaving? We haven't even opened that wine.”
Nyamu caught Sakiko by the hand. She picked up the bottle and pressed it into Sakiko’s arms.
“Consider it a favor from a friend.”
Sakiko knew she wasn't going to win that argument. Outside the hotel window, night had settled over the entire bay. Under the moonlight, they talked about where they might go on vacation next.
There was something timeless about making small talk not about work. The strange thing was, Nyamu couldn't remember what they had talked about.
She picked up her phone from the bedside table. There were still two or three hours before checkout.
After confirming that there were no missed calls, she did what she always did and started searching to see whether anyone had photographed them the previous night.
There were a few pictures.
The figures were blurry enough, she couldn’t recognize their faces. Judging from the car, there was no doubt it had been her and Sakiko.
Where should I go for vacation?
Nyamu found interest in skiing, and booked a flight to Switzerland. She could have someone arrange the hotel later.
Morning sunlight slipped through a gap in the curtains and landed beside Nyamu's pillow.
“Mm…”
“Oh. You're awake?” said Nyamu.
“You…”
Sakiko pulled back the covers.
Nyamu's legs were tangled up with Sakiko's, one foot hooked around the other. From head to toe, neither of them was wearing a thing.
“!!!!!”
Sakiko jumped out of bed, immediately rummaging through the clothes scattered across the floor for her own.
“What the hell?!”
Nyamu shook her head, making it clear that she remembered absolutely nothing.
“Hey, this isn't entirely my fault.”
“You're insane!”
Sakiko hurriedly got dressed and stormed out of the room.
The vacation was still long.
Nyamu decided to sleep a little longer.