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bellygunnr · 2 years ago

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A Momentous Occasion

My Secret Santa entry for @onyourrite ; this was a blast to write and I hope you enjoy!!!

@initialdsecretsanta

----

"Fumihiro," Ryosuke says, not looking up from where he reviews a sheaf of paper. "This is a very long list."

"That it is, Ryosuke."

Fumihiro also does not look up from his task at hand. Preparing tea for guests and company is an arduous endeavor, no matter how many times he's done it before. Neither of them make eye contact until a cup of tea is being placed on the edge of Ryosuke's desk, steaming happily away.

"You seem to have invited every street racer in Gunma."

Ryosuke keeps his voice light and conversational. Paper rustles as he trades it for the hot tea, the china burning his finger tips. He raises an eyebrow while watching the steam whorl and twist, offended by his nerve to blow on the surface of the liquid.

"Are they not Project D's biggest supporters?" Fumihiro returns, mouth quirked at the corner.

"Ah, how could I forget," Ryosuke says dryly. "Shingo Shoji was such a sharp hand to have around."

Ryosuke watches Fumihiro make his way around the study. Tea and coffee alike are distributed, murmured thanks bumping against their exchange. He lingers on Keisuke grimacing on a mouthful of unsweetened tea, but his attention turns completely to Matsumoto, whose amusement is far too obvious for his liking.

"I invited them myself, Ryosuke," Matsumoto says. "Partially for Takumi's benefit, if you must know."

Of course. And, really, half the names on the list weren't bad people. Nor bad company. Project D was simply a small team of personally selected importance, but he was starting to see where both Fumihiro and Matsumoto were coming from. Takumi would be going straight from the airport to their mountain resort.

The overture of grandeur was not to overwhelm, but to show appreciation. Hell, even his father was invited-- and accepted, no less.

"Yes, I see now," Ryosuke admits. "Very well, then."

----

The Impreza burbles nasally up the winding mountain path. Takumi runs his hands reverently across the dashboard and door paneling, smitten now with the engineering after becoming familiar with the nervous shriek of a WRC model. Thankfully, his dad seems to not notice, or better, ignores it, and that alone fills him with an intense rush of homesickness and relief. He knocks his head back against the seat, winded.

Neither of them say anything until they're parked up and heading for the cabins on foot.

Takumi breaks the silence first.

"Have you ever left the country before, Dad?"

The flick of his lighter stutters. The cigarette his Dad just retrieved bobs, as if surprised.

"Hmmm. Had the chance to, 'bout when I was your age. Why?"

His voice sounds lower. Hoarse? Takumi rubs the back of his neck, willing himself to deal.

"We stayed in a couple places like this, during the uh, events. Some of them reminded me of home," Takumi says quietly. "I guess I was wondering if you ever felt that way."

The incline to their destination is steep. Dad neither slows nor stops, so Takumi doggedly keeps pace, even as silence turns their conversation into a lull. In the distance, he can just make out the sound of ski lifts whirring away.

"The bird song is always different," Dad grunts. "When you go far away."

Takumi blinks in surprise.

"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "It's strange."

---

When they finally do reach the top of the hill, so to speak, everyone is already there. The faces of Project D draw his eye first because they're expected-- they asked him here, after all-- but they pale in comparison to the bundle of people forming the front of the crowd.

"Takumi!"

For some reason, he really thought he'd never hear that shout again. Ridiculous.

God dammit, he is not going to get teary-eyed. Takumi bends at the knees and braces for the impact, grunting as 162 centimeters of best friend launches himself into his arms. Instinctively, he spins them both around, laughing despite himself.

"Woah, you're strong now!" Itsuki yelps, clinging to his arms. "All of that rally racing do you good, then? Come on, put me down--!"

Takumi spins them both around one more time. Only a different pair of hands-- Iketani?-- keeps them both from dropping to the ground when he finally stops, laughing.

It really is Iketani, once the world stops spinning. And Kenji, and Yuichi, front and center and beaming. They're looking at him like it's been ages and he can't really say it hasn't, not when the past year's been a decade.

And he's missed everyone so much.

Iketani reaches in and scrubs at his hair, wrapping an arm around his neck and squeezing, crowing loudly about their long-lost Ghost of Akina--

Maybe he doesn't miss them, actually.

"What is with this haircut, man? We leave you alone for one second--"

"It's very European," Kenji interjects.

"The ladies here would love it," Itsuki says.

Takumi swats them away, flushing. "Hey! Leave my hair alone!"

Kenji practically throws Iketani off of him when he sees Ryosuke moving in, giving Takumi some breathing room. He brushes himself off but doesn't shake the smile or the breathlessness, even as his heart hammers oddly at seeing his mentor-- mentors?-- and the rest of the team after so long.

He missed them.

(It's no longer strange that they'd want to see him again).

"I do hope you have time for us as well," Ryosuke says. "How was your flight? The drive?"

"Both were fine. Well, the drive was fine," Takumi starts, stutters, and wipes his hands on his shirt. "I don't have much of a head for flying, as it turns out."

"It's not for everyone," he says easily. "But you're hungry, I hope?"

Takumi frowns, thinking. Exhausted, check. Greasy and weird from being on an airplane and in various public buildings, check. Hungry?

"Uh, extremely," Takumi admits. "Huh."

Ryosuke chuckles, putting a dent in his cleaned-up, untouchable demeanor. Everyone is all too eager to retreat to the campsite after that.

---

Takumi considers the can of beer he's pulled from the cooler. Itsuki hovers at his elbow, chatting to Kenta and Keisuke while he debates on what to drink. And what to think, honestly. Did all of his friends suddenly get to know each other while he was gone?

And what the hell were the Night Kids doing here?

"Fumihiro just told me to invite them," Kenta answers. "So I did."

Takumi squints, mouth open. Oh, he must have spoken aloud. He clears his throat, not taking his eyes off of Nakazato or Shingo, fascinated by their presence as he is.

"As long as they didn't bring any gum tape, I guess," Takumi says slowly.

Itsuki guffaws, latching onto Kenta for balance. "Man, I almost forgot about that. That was a rough night, wasn't it?"

Kenta easily takes Itsuki's weight, shoulders him off with a well-practiced ease. Takumi cracks open the beer with a shrug and matches Itsuki with a deep drink. Over the rim, he watches people migrate toward the cabins and grill.

Japan has the better drinks, he decides.

---

He'd thought it'd be more awkward, his friends and Project D mingling. Instead, he has to duck his head to avoid Keisuke going after Iketani for taking the last yakitori on the plate, slamming him with such a thick rush of nostalgia he has to brace himself on the table.

"Can you two behave?" Takumi grouses. "You know there's more, right?"

"That's not the point," Keisuke says. "I had dibs!"

Iketani doesn't even look sheepish, but there's a red tinge to his neck, a twitchiness to his fingers that Takumi knows from years of working with him. It's alcohol, but nerves, too.

"I think you can stand the loss," Iketani replies. "Considering you've already had half the plate."

Takumi nods in agreement.

And takes the yakitori from Iketani, popping the first few chunks of meat into his mouth. From somewhere behind him, he hears laughter break out, the low raspy merriment of hardboiled mechanics.

"You're shameless!" Iketani hisses, jabbing at him.

Keisuke rolls his eyes and scoffs, mouth pinched to suppress laughter. Takumi grins around the rest of the yakitori.

---

Bunta looks up over Yuichi's head as the background chatter suddenly quiets. He sighs his last lungful of smoke into the cool winter night, eyes straining to pick out the commotion-- or lack thereof-- from so far away. There's some desperate shushing, then a lurch for someone wielding a cellphone.

Interesting.

"Yuichi," he grunts. "You don't wager my boy fell asleep, do you?"

Yuichi raises a brow. He makes a show of adjusting his clothing as he follows Bunta's eye, taking in the scene from a distance. The attempt for the cellphone failed. Itsuki remains victorious.

"Poor guy," Yuichi says. "Let's go check it out."

Bunta makes a show of putting out his smoke and tucking it away in his collapsible ashtray. He already has half of an idea of what to do-- half the young folk here jump a mile high when he approaches. Even the eldest Takahashi gets a look to him. It's great.

As they draw closer, he does spot his son slumped over, perched on the edge of one of the chopped logs being used as seats. He feels his face do something as he realizes Takumi is wrapped up around that aforementioned Takahashi, nose in his shirt and everything.

He passed out hard. Damn.

Yuichi hides his laughter behind a wrinkled hand, shoulders trembling.

"He doesn't bite," Bunta intones.

Ryosuke's face contorts something awful. He shakes his head, huffing something unintelligible out.

"So I've been told," Ryosuke says. "But I'd hate to wake him, either. And if you take one more picture--"

Ryosuke snaps his head toward Itsuki, but it's Fumihiro and Keisuke moving in for the kill, wearing matching shark-like grins. Bunta moves aside to give them a better angle, because why not.

"Send me hard copies," is all he says, causing a round of startled laughter from everyone gathered.

Takumi, for his part, only goes even more boneless, forcing Ryosuke to support him properly.

"Did he die, or something? Keisuke, stop laughing and help me pick him up-- if we may, that is--"

"Just give me him, you're so weak!"

Keisuke scoops Takumi up without even blinking. Bunta gestures lazily in the direction of the Speed Stars' cabin, cracking a wry grin.

As far as reunions go, this one is... good.

And good for Takumi, too.

#initialdsecretsanta2022 #initial d #its written kind of episodiclaly but i wanted to show how project d and everyone interacted with each other #and its set a year or two after final stage!#post-winter after a wrc season

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onyourrite · 2 years ago

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For @seekingseven; I am so so SO sorry for my tardiness with your Christmas present! Life got in the way but I’ve come up with your request :) I went off your request and decided to include as many people as possible, so here’s the Project D and Todo School gangs hanging out:

————

“... and that’s how I decided never to let Sudo arrange a blind date for me ever again,” Tachi concluded before taking another swig of his drink.

Keisuke guffawed before asking, “You’re serious? The girl wanted,” he paused to suggestively gesture which elicited groans from Ryosuke, Fumihiro, and Matsumoto, “over the hood of your EK9?”

Tachi could only nod with an exasperated expression. Along with him were Daiki and Smiley on either side of him in lawn chairs. The Project D crew was present as well, haphazardly taking a seat wherever they could find one out in front of the Tudo School. The summer night breeze maintained what Takumi considered to be the Holy Grail of Temperatures; not too hot where you’re sweating your ass off but also not too cold where you’re constantly two shivers away from keeling over due to hypothermia. Coupled with the view of the mountains, Takumi noticed that it was rather peaceful and he idly considered how he’d love to have a view like this back home.

“Say, Takumi,” Ryosuke spoke as the group focused their attention on the mastermind behind Project D, “how’s the Impreza treating you?”

Takumi took a drink of his juice (he was just a year shy of the drinking age but Ryosuke refused to hand him any alcohol as if said minor didn’t break the law on a nightly basis by racing up and down Mount Akina) before answering, “It’s going good. I think I’m getting the hang of it, Dr. Joshima’s single-hand steer goes well with the 4WD.”

“An Impreza?” Smiley asked, whistling in appreciation. “I test-drove my cousin’s the other day and it’s a sweet ride.”

“It’s very stable,” Takumi offered. A car drove past the group and its headlights briefly washed over everyone before continuing its steady meander up the slope. He cleared his throat before continuing, “The air conditioning is also better than my Eight-Six’s.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” Daiki mock-threatened, jumping into the conversation. “I’m 90% sure Mr. Todo screwed with it since I’ll put it on full blast and it does jack shit. Probably for ‘better efficiency,’ knowing him,” he grumbled.

Smiley suddenly snickered and the look on his face suggested that he must’ve remembered something. “Wait, I don’t think I told you guys about The Beetle Incident from a few months ago-”

“Smiley, no-” Daiki pressed as a blush manifested across his cheeks.

“Smiley, yes,” Keisuke smirked as he leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear this story. Ryosuke pointedly looked at Keisuke while wearing his patented Disappointed-Older-Brother Stare and Takumi noted how Fumihiro and the mechanics rolled their eyes upon noticing Ryosuke’s expression.

Smiley set his drink aside before beginning his narration. “So we’re practicing out on the pass, yeah?” The others sans Daiki, who’d taken quite an interest in the cracked asphalt underneath his feet, nodded. “Daiki’s out in front, with his windows down by the way,” Smiley noted. “Anyway, I’m chasing him when we get to one corner and he just,” he wildly gestured, “went all over the place. Anyway, I overtake him and when we get back to the School he jumps out of his car clawing at his face, and runs inside screaming-”

Daiki interrupted. “I was not screaming, you bastard-”

“-And I finally get a look at his face and there’s this massive fucking beetle on his cheek,” Smiley cringed as he remembered the vile nature of that creature. “He’s screaming at Mr. Todo to get it off and when he got it off there was this nasty fucking juice-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Tachi interrupted, noticeably green in the face as he put his drink down.

“I second that notion,” Tomiguchi said as he grimaced, quickly tucking a stray lock of his hair behind his ear.

“Anyway, that’s why Daiki refuses to roll the windows down anytime he drives,” Smiley concluded.

“For good reason!” Daiki cried. “That thing was fucking scary, I nearly pissed my pants!”

Takumi decided that a change of topic was in order (and thinking about the bug in question was also beginning to mess with his stomach as well). “Is anyone hungry?”

“Someone finally said it!” Keisuke said. He leaned back in his seat and huffed in relief. “I’m starving, Fujiwara.”

“Same here,” Daiki said.

“I suppose it’s a good time for a nighttime snack,” Ryosuke considered.

“I know a good place to eat,” Tachi suggested. “But they don’t do delivery and they’re down the mountain.”

Fumihiro spoke up. “If you guys know what you want, I could take your orders and grab them.”

Takumi’s gaze idly slid over to where everyone had parked their cars. The Todo School Hondas, the Takahashis’ RX-7s, his Impreza, Fumihiro’s MR2 along with Matsumoto’s and Tomiguchi’s cars were all parked facing the road as if poised to attack the slope at any time.

Keisuke noticed Takumi’s gaze and followed it to the parked vehicles before grinning. Interrupting Ryosuke’s suggestion to pay the restaurant extra to deliver the food, he said, “Let’s all go down there. Last one there foots the bill,” he wisecracked, a glint in his eyes making itself known.

The group fell silent and any movement ceased as everyone considered the offer. A beat passed, marked by the choir of crickets making itself known from the bushes across the way. But Smiley tossing his empty bottle into the nearby trash can broke the calm. The group jumped into action, leaping out of their seats and checking for their keys before running to their respective cars. Surprisingly, even the “elders” in the group (as Ryosuke, Fumihiro, and Matsumoto were collectively referred to) entertained Keisuke’s notion and partook in the game. As Takumi sprinted toward the Impreza with Keisuke aiming at his FD, he didn’t miss the wide, childlike grins the elders wore as they all but lunged into their cars.

Takumi may have been somewhat shorter than most guys, but his lean frame offered him the advantage of nimbleness. He wasted no time in turning the Impreza’s engine over and peeling out of the lot with the Takahashi brothers’ RX-7s right on his tail. Just behind them was the Todo School gang with Tachi’s EK9 leading the two students’ Civic and Integra. But before Takumi could even consider the remaining three members, the first corner approached and jarred his consciousness back into the here and now. He cleared the sharp left turn with ease thanks to the single-handed steer (it really was convenient, wasn’t it?) and the turbocharger fluttered as he opened up the throttle before upshifting. The lights in his mirror vanished for all but a moment before manifesting once more, refusing to give up and fall behind. Takumi smiled to himself.

This was going to be a fun trip down the mountain.

#initialdsecretsanta2022 #initial d #takumi fujiwara #keisuke takahashi #fumihiro #Shuichi Matsumoto #ryosuke takahashi #daiki ninomiya #smiley sakai #tomoyuki tachi #fanfic #initial d fanfiction #initial d fanfic

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