Star of The Speedzone

So after wracking this idea through my head one-too many times, I decided to get back on board on fanfiction with this because I want to experiment with it and see how far I can go with it ^^ So I warmly thank all of you who decided to check out this fanfiction and I do hope you enjoy it. Well, since you read the summary already, you already know what you're getting yourself into so let's get this chapter rolling!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights over Initial D. All rights go to Shuichi Shigeno.

Race 1: Teddybears, Talent, and Tofu

(-)(-)(-)Five-six years ago(-)(-)(-)

"More."

"I think you had enough."

"More."

"You promised this was your last one."

"More."

"Dad."

"More… Now."

Giving a tiny sigh, the teenager stood up from her spot on the stoop, took the bottle, and headed into the small confines that was hers and her father's apartment, the two-bed room abode nestled just on the top of the tofu shop her father had run for as long as she remembered. Takimi, as her father's first and only child, never understood why her father sold something he said he didn't like. The usual answer she got, if she were lucky, was a dry hum or, 'Grown-ups like to do what they hate.' She still didn't get it back then.

Maneuvering herself into the crawl space of their kitchen, she went to the sink and washed out the empty sake bottle Bunta had handed her. Simplistic, but that was her father. Straight-faced, stoic, and the owner of a cold shoulder similar to a mountain top. But he did love his sake. He said it made him feel better. Takimi thought it made him worse. After she washed out the remnants, she filled it with water and trotted back to small, flat porch. This would be enough to flush out the alcohol in Bunta's bloodstream and have him ready for work soon. He'd loose more customers if he was shit-faced while delivering tofu.

"Dad, I-" The honey-brunette stopped as she saw her father slumped against a wall, snoozing away with snores erupting from his chest. Great. That was just perfect. Now there were two reasons why her father couldn't go to work. Once the tofu shop owner was knocked out by the booze, it was downhill from there.

"Dad," She placed the bottle down and patted the old man's face a few times, only to get a grumble in return. "Dad, you got deliveries to make. Time to wake up."

"You do it."

Takimi was sure she didn't hear him right. "Dad, I'm serious-"

"You do it."

"Dad, I'm thirteen-"

"Do it and I'll buy you that teddy bear you wanted for Christmas."

"I asked for that when I was five-"

A snore was the rebuttal. Bunta was out like a light.

Heaving another sigh, Takimi weighed in her options; Complete the job and get money, or get caught and possibly face juvenile hall and child services. The latter did sound scary, but the first option appealed to her favor. She could make the deliveries if she wanted own little part of Akina was connected to these series of roads that scattered around the mountain like a game of Chutes and Ladders. She had taken a look of a map of this place a few times and had them memorized like the back of her hand. Or at least, the routes her father usually took to make his deliveries. Up until the fourth grade, Bunta bought her along on his deliveries. That is until the school board had insisted (or threatened, as Takimi had heard from all the yelling) that she'd start school soon. Not wanting to deal with persistent nagging, Bunta agreed and enrolled Takimi.

Driving was a different story.

Her father had plopped her right at the steering wheel one fine night about a year ago, another of his sake nights to be exact, probably to get something of a reaction from his Plain-Jane daughter. But the only reaction he got was his own when Takimi drove right out of the driveway and crept down the mountain like it was nothing. He should have expected it, considering that she occupied the front seat of his car for the first few years of her life. She may have looked a little lost as he drove, but those cow-like eyes were trained on his hands and feet, watching every jerk and push. Every breath that Bunta took, a rove of his eyes, and the way his teeth clicked when they gritted in frustration because of a close second turn, his daughter absorbed all of it like a sponge. Taking that drive felt like something of a memory to Takimi. But they never did discuss that night afterwards. Takimi would have, even if she wasn't into cars that much. At least they would have an actual conversation that way.

Making up her mind, the brunette went back to the house and returned with her father's car keys, his work jacket, a list of the deliveries, money for change, and a throw from the couch. She threw the patched quilt over Bunta, hesitating before leaning down and placing a kiss on the old man's cheek. It twitched in response.

"Be back soon, dad." She whispered as she headed down the steps whilst slipping on the jacket. Her hands barely made it past the sleeves. Once she found herself in the garage next to the shop, she slipped into her father's car and counted all the boxes of tofu her father had packed earlier. At least he had managed to get this done before he commenced another night of binge drinking.

That made Takimi frown as she started up the car. Her father wasn't always like this; a bottle of sake at his hip and a snap of his fingers ready to send his daughter off for another round. When he was sober, he was responsible and hard-working, even though he didn't look it, and he'd occasionally check up on Takimi to make sure that she was at least breathing. He wasn't a terrible father; he just wasn't prepared to become a single one when Takimi's mother was no longer with them.

Shaking her head and blinking her light, brown eyes in the rearview mirror, the teenager drove right out of the garage and crept down the mountain, taking a deep breath and beginning her drive.

She was exhausted when she made it back. The car was nearly out of gas, but Takimi had managed to finish up all the deliveries just before the tank ran out. The deliveries and ride themselves were a piece of cake, too. Customers believed her when she said her father was watching the car while she made the delivery at the door and no cops thought to patrol the curvy roads of Akina for sleepy-eyed children delivering tofu. The small stacks of yen that filled her pockets were a nice touch, too.

"Takimi?" All color drained her face as the young girl spun around and spotted their landlord jogging over to her with a mug of milk in hand. "Just what on earth are you doing here? Does your father know you're out here?"

"Yes," The lie passed right through her teeth. "He does. He sent me here to retrieve the money and receipts from his last deliveries." She pulled out the money and receipts as proof and showed them, baring a tiny smile that she was able to muster.

The landlord looked a little unconvinced. Takimi was thirteen, after all. 4:00 am in the morning was not the time a girl her age should be up. But after a while, he patted her head meaningfully. "Alright, just head on upstairs if you're done, OK? Have a good night." He left while taking a sip of his mug, the young girl taking the other set of stairs to charge up the steps and slip right into their apartment. Thankfully, it looked like one of their neighbors had been kind enough to help Bunta back inside, since the old man laid sprawled on the couch, snoring. Keeping quiet, his daughter placed the money and receipts in the little metal safe her father kept hidden in the floorboards and she hurried to her room, changing into her pajamas and crawling right into her bed. She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, her hands still feeling the trembling breath of the car she bought to life.

(-)(-)(-)Present(-)(-)(-)

"Ahhh! It's too windy up here!"

"Then let's go inside! Geez, it was your fault for wanting to come up here!"

Takimi would have came out here even if it were pouring. The school roof was secluded and quiet enough, for the most part, for her to find a corner to sleep in. She didn't mind the wind since her hair was held in a ponytail and her uniform jacket made a great blanket. It was away from most of the other students, another bonus since she couldn't sleep with such bird-like chatter. It was a special spot away from the world, and it was Takimi's favorite spot to catch up on the few hours of sleep she missed because of work.

"Yo, Takimi!"

Well, for the most part, anyway.

"Morning, Itsuki." Yawned the eighteen-year-old, stretching her arms over her head. She almost jumped when something papery lightly smacked her nose. "Ow. This month's issue the Daily Drift just came in?" Her lips rubbed against the glossy cover as she spoke.

"Damn right!" The pudgy teen squatted right next to his childhood friend with a grin, shaking the article in front of her. "And you'll never guess what my master plan is!"

Takimi opened her eyes and looked at the face of Itsuki Takeuchi. How she ended up with such a loud-mouth, ball of energy such as this young man had baffled the quiet girl, as well as the rest of the student body. It was as if fate, as Itsuki put it, had brought them together. Takimi could only recall a heavy-breathing eight-year-old trying to steal her froggy umbrella in the fourth grade and that had somehow spun their friendship together. Despite this, the two of them had stuck together like glue since then. Maybe it was because the both of them were opposites and outcasts. Two peas in a pod.

"Takimi!"

The latter snapped out of her musings, something about, 'one of the most greatest things ever!' flying right out of her other ear. "I'm listening, I'm listening. Mind repeating it with more feeling, though?"

Itsuki sighed. "You're hopeless," But he still held out his copy of the Daily Drift, a flashy but old car printed right across the page. "See this?"

"Yeah, Itsuki. I'm tired, not blind." A glare was sent her way.

"I'm serious here! Look, if there are any cars worth getting these days, then an 86 is my best luck! It's no S-13 like Inari's, but it's something!" Defended her friend.

"Do you have enough saved up to buy it, though?" Asked Takimi. A deflated Itsuki was her answer. "Guess not."

"You know, if you really wanted to prove that you were my friend, you'd help me pay for the car," Itsuki nudged her impishly in the ribs."Then Inari would ask us to join her team!"

"Don't drag me into your fantasy." Huffed the brown-eyed girl, leaning away from the persistent nudging. "Besides, I thought Inari said she was looking for more experienced racers to join her." There wasn't a day that went by when her superior and best friend chatted together at work about racing, Inari's team, the Akina SpeedStars,the hot topic of these convos. Due to being a small band of racers, Inari had been going around the local areas to look for a new racer to help the team move up in the ranks. Itsuki eagerly listened on while Takimi made sure to steer clear of those conversations as much as possible. She already had her hands full with her own driving. Anything about cars that was not about delivering tofu just flew over her head.

"She said that she could teach anyone with a car!" Itsuki pointed out with a wagging finger. "And that anyone is going to be me! I just need a car and your help, Takimi! C'mon! Can't you loan me some money you have saved from the station, or the diner, even?" Unlike him, Takimi worked two separate jobs; one on the usual weekdays and one she did two times a week. There was surely a chance she could spare some. But this was Takimi Fujiwara he was begging. The chances were very slim.

"You know my old man takes half of that for our rent and utilities, right?" Along with tofu ingredients and cigarettes, but she wouldn't bring that up. "Just keep saving up on your own. How much do you have so far?" She asked.

"Like, 50,000 yen."

Takimi patted his shoulder. "Hang in there, buddy." At least she felt a little sorry for him.

"Thanks." Her heavy friend sighed, but it looked like his spirits perked up in surprise as a bright, red book was held right out to Takimi.

"Takimi, you forgot your Social Studies book in our last class."

"Oh," Takimi took the book and blinked at the smiling brunette before her. That smile could charm the most feral of animals. "Thanks, Natsuki. You didn't have to, though."

"I wanted to," The young girl was walking out of there as fast as she came. "Consider it thanks for helping me out in class! Talk to you later!" She said as she left. Takimi didn't get the chance to return the farewell as an excited Itsuki pulled her aside.

"Dude, introduce me to my future soul-mate."

"Drop dead." Takimi was saving him the trouble. She had only known Natsuki Mogi for a year or so in the drama club they participated in and they had lost all contact together for another. Sure she was sweet and cute, but that was all the young girl could gather. Beauty was only skin deep and Natsuki didn't look interested in high school boys, as far as what Takimi could get from meeting her a few times. She didn't want her friend to get disappointed or hurt, and she definitely did not want to be the one picking up the pieces afterwards.

"Oh, come on!" She ignored him completely as she began to walk away. "First the car, now my future dream girl?! What else are you gonna keep away from me?! Takimi!" He shouted as he chased after her. Even after a little incident like that, their friendship would be patched up in a heartbeat.

(-)(-)(-)Five-six years ago(-)(-)(-)

"Hello? Fujiwara Tofu Shop. If it's not our tofu, it's no good. Owner speaking."

'Keep talking like that and the other tofu shops will come and get you, Bunta!' Laughed the other person on the phone.

"What other tofu shops?"

'Good point. I think you're the only shop that sells just pure tofu.' The voice chuckled again. 'That aside, I just wanted to call and say thanks for delivering last night's order. My guests couldn't get enough of this stuff.'

Bunta blinked once, a cigarette posed at the corner of his lips. He knew for a fact that he hadn't had a bottle this morning or even one perched on the counter right in front of him. So alcohol wasn't playing a joke on him at the moment. "What are you talking about?"

'I meant the deliveries you made with your little girl last night. You know, I haven't seen you bring her on deliveries ever since she was small, before she started school. Seeing those big, brown eyes again with your jacket wrapped around her,' The hotel owner sighed nostalgically. 'Reminded me of Kaname. Takimi's growing into a lovely lady, just like her mother. You ought to be proud of her, Bunta.'

Takimi hadn't touched a steering wheel since last year. Bunta knew this, he had placed her there himself as part of a joke. When he had saw her drive that night, he was actually surprised. She had skill. She could reverse, start, drive, and park perfectly without missing a beat. She wasn't even shaken when she stepped out of the car. 'Lets get to bed, dad,' She had said that day. 'You'll start sweating sake if you stay up too late.' They didn't discuss that day since then, mainly because Bunta was still too dumbfounded to bring it up.

Skills were not genetic. So why did Takimi drive as perfectly as he did that day?

The tofu shop owner looked over to the front door as it gave a chime. Takimi merely gave him a wave while Itsuki chatted up a storm behind her, the both of them heading to the living room to work on some school work. Now that he looked at her, she did look more tired than usual.

"Yeah," Agreed Bunta as he rattled his car keys in his grip. "I'm feeling something of her right now."

(-)(-)(-)Present(-)(-)(-)

Takimi waved to the last customer as he pulled right out of the gas station. The old station rested just at the root of the mountain and town below. People passing through here would stop by for some gas or rest and they'd stay to get the satisfaction of how quiet it was, minus Itsuki's bursts of occasional excitement. Takimi liked it for those reasons, too. Maybe that was why her childhood friend didn't have to beg her to apply when a job position was open.

At first, there were doubts from management about hiring her. The owner wasn't sexist, he was just worried that the work would be overwhelming for a high school girl. Some heavy labor and late-night shifts came along with the job. But Inari kept badgering him to give Takimi a chance, and since he did not want to argue with his daughter, he gave Takimi a uniform and now a few months later, his doubts were erased. Takimi picked up the pace as good as any other servicemen. She was a hard worker.

The boss himself, Yuichi Tachibana, picked up the work phone that same afternoon and was surprised to hear the caller.

"Takimi! Phone call, it's your dad!"

Takimi and Itsuki looked at each other in surprise. Bunta rarely called his daughter from work. Did something happen? Either way, Takimi jogged over there as fast as possible. The sooner she did, the sooner she could get away from Itsuki and Inari chatting about the 86. It was starting to get annoying.

"Yeah?" She asked as she took the phone, thanking Yuichi before taking off her work cap, wiping sweat off her forehead.

'I need you to handle an early delivery due in an hour. Come back to the shop, get changed, and take the order to the Daisukon Hotel near Lake Akina.'

"Hotel Daisukon?" Forget her dad not saying please (blunt commands were a daily thing from him), but did her father actually ask her to go to the most beautiful and ritziest hotel in Akina? "They're ordering from us?" They usually went for places with a meat variety.

'Guests they're working with are health nuts,' Father and daughter winced at the same time. 'Just get back here. Yuichi already knows you have to come back. The owner already wired the money so come back right now. And this doesn't mean you can start work later tonight.'

"Not like you let me do that before," Replied Takimi, biteless. It was the truth but she didn't get mad at Bunta because of it. She was just so used to her father talking to her as an employee rather than his child. That didn't make Bunta a bad parent, though. With no wife, no family members in the area, little to no experience in raising a child, Takimi could find no way to blame her father for how he acted. That's just how things were and she was fine with it. Besides, they were hardly alike in any way.

Oh yes, Takimi had heard the stories from Yuichi. On slow days he would reminisce on how her father was something of a wild card when he was younger. A high-school drop-out with a thug's fist, that was how her boss explained it. Takimi would have never guessed it, had it not been from the faint scars she caught on Bunta's hands while he was fixing up tofu. They were from all the fights he had gotten into, she assumed. He probably mellowed out when he met Takimi's mother, Kaname, but that was another story, as Yuichi put it. He did add that her mother was different from Bunta (He'd never go into detail with that) yet they fell in love within a month. He jokingly stated that Takimi acted like her mother and maybe that was why she and Bunta were so close, yet so apart. The brunette couldn't help but agree.

The both of them were like opposite sides of magnets; they could be close but never connect. "Alright, be there in ten." She said as she hung up and changed in the workroom, heading outside. "Gotta go. Old man needs me at the shop."

"Good luck packing tofu," Said Inari with a smile. She was older than Takimi and Itsuki, but she treated them both well. She was also Yuichi's daughter, but that didn't give the high schoolers any privileges, much to the boy's chagrin. "You still want me to pick you and Itsuki up by the bus stop for tonight?"

"Hell yeah!" Takimi yelped when her friend appeared. He was faster than he looked. "There's no way we're going to miss you and the SpeedStars' practice! We'll be there! The both of us!" He squeezed Takimi's shoulders when she rolled her eyes.

"Alright," Laughed Inari as Takimi managed to wiggle away from Itsuki and jogged away. "Later, Takimi!"

"Don't be late!" Itsuki shouted after her. "This is a once-in-a-life-time opportunity!"

"But, boys, this is a once-in-a-life-time opportunity! Satoshi, tell them! Tell them these girls are nice!"

The man stood in-between his sons and patted their shoulders. "Boys, these girls are nice."

"I think that's been established already, father." Replied his eldest.

"And pretty!"

"They're pretty as well, boys."

"Heard that loud and clear, dad." Said his younger son with a laugh.

Pushing aside her husband, Mizuki Takahashi wiggled her manicured finger at her two sons. "Either you two meet these girls or so help me-"

"Mizuki-" Satoshi started, but his wife was having none of it.

"I'm serious! It's time the both of you settle down and start finding someone to start your lives with!" She argued.

"Mother, with all due respect, Keisuke and I are far too busy for this sort of thing." Defended the oldest son.

"Yeah," The younger brother, Keisuke, agreed without missing a beat. "We're too busy for that kind of stuff, mom. Cut us some slack, we're still young." The both of them knew that she meant well, but they just wish she'd see that marriage wasn't in their sights at the moment. If anything, a long path of black asphalt with nothing but the stench of oil and burning engines was all they wanted at the moment.

"Which is exactly why I insist you two find yourselves some girls now," Their mother sighed, pacing in the boys' hotel room. Both brothers and Satoshi worried that she might trip in her own heels. Fortunately to prevent this and to save his boys from more grief, Satoshi stepped in.

"Honey, we'll be late for the cocktail party downstairs. You still need to find your red dress, yes?"

"Ah!" Mizuki nodded, looking back at her sons fixedly. "This discussion is not over." She warned before she hurried out. Satoshi sent a kinder look before following her out. The minute the door closed, Keisuke made a grab for his jacket.

"And where are you running off to?" Asked his brother.

"I'm not gonna stick here just so she can drag me to that party to meet her friend's daughters. I'm calling the guys up and heading for a drive." He searched around for his keys. "Don't even try to stop me, Ryosuke."

He caught his keys just as Ryosuke tossed them, a smile playing in his dark eyes.

"Who said anything about stopping you?"

'This place is even bigger on the inside.' Takimi thought as she pushed along the cart of tofu for the party they were hosting at the hotel. She had delivered tofu to hotels before, but since this was the most successful in Akina, it was definitely the most impressive one she'd seen. Trying to keep her awe in check, she shook her head and tucked in a piece of her hair into her cap as she turned the corner, yelping when someone bumped into her and knocked her flat on her rear.

"Crap!" Shouted Keisuke. "Damn, sorry. Didn't see where I was going." He said as he held out his hand. Takimi took it to help her up and blinked at how rough it felt. Calloused and tender, yet warm. It made her shiver almost pleasantly.

"Keisuke," Ryosuke jogged over just as Keisuke helped the girl he bumped into up, the latter himself looking a little dazed for some reason. "You two OK?"

"Yeah…" The blonde wasn't too sure on that. Were girls' hands always so dainty and small like that? He couldn't remember the last time he held one's hand before. "Hey, how about you? You OK?" He asked, shaking out of his stupor.

"I'm fine," Replied Takimi, out of it herself and looking up at the brothers. They were so tall and alien to her. Most boys were, but the both of them were different. She couldn't take her sleepy eyes off them. "Do any of you know where the lobby is, though? I got tofu to deliver."

"That's the place we're actually trying to avoid." Keisuke coughed, but Ryosuke nudged him lightly in the ribs as he smiled charmingly at the delivery girl.

"We do. We'd like to show you, but only if you'd do us a favor." He said.

A slender brow rose. "Favor?" Asked Takimi. "What kind of favor?"

(-)(-)(-)Five-six years ago(-)(-)(-)

Bunta was holding a cup of water instead of a bottle of sake that night. Was she dreaming?

"Dad?" She asked, her worry heightening as Bunta made a bee-line for the steps. "Dad-"

"Come on," He said. Curious, his daughter obeyed and followed him all the way to the garage, the white and old-fashioned car kept in as well-conditioned as her father could parked right in the middle. She pointed at the car and found herself even more confused when Bunta edged her to the driver's side and popped open the door for her. Uneasily did she slid in the seat while her father took the passenger side. Was this some sort of a joke, like before?

"Uh, dad-"

"I know that you made those deliveries a few nights ago," Takimi hung her head, preparing herself for a lecture she'd never thought she'd get. "Those turns are dangerous and the roads are steep. Could have gotten yourself killed and I wouldn't have even known."

"I'm sorry…" She'd never thought she'd say that to Bunta. Was he going to punish her? Ground her or disown her, even? He let her off easy before, but she didn't think he would go easy on her this time. Well, she was half-right. A large hand gently clapped the top of her head, brown eyes peeking through her bangs as Bunta ruffled her hair. This was not at all what she was expecting, neither was the small drop of keys that landed on her lap. "Dad?"

"Here's the deal," Straight back to business. Because besides making sure his child was alive, running the tofu shop was another of Bunta's top priorities. Takimi should have seen it coming. "You know how to drive, but you don't know how to drive well. You can make an average of deliveries in a few hours, but you can make more if you have training."

"Dad," She shook her head. "I can't. Last time was because you couldn't. I'm only thirteen, I'll get caught."

"That didn't stop you last time, now did it?" Asked Bunta. His straight mouth nearly cracked a corner at the glare the teenager sent his way. Just like her mother. "And you'll be handling the night deliveries so it's unlikely. Look, Takimi," He turned to her while puffing out his cigarette the other way. The driver's nose wrinkled. "You can do it. Just don't think about it. Just drive." He took her wrists, a touch that made Takimi flinch, and placed her hands on the wheel, his eyes softened just a touch. Takimi could almost see the brown-colors they shared. "Just drive."

He was serious. Well, her father was serious all the time, but this is where it really mattered. His business was important, and if he was asking her to help him with it, then that almost made her feel important. While they had nothing of relative and sentimental emotions, this plan patched by the tofu shop could fill what they didn't have; a connection.

She turned to the wheel, latching her fingers onto the leather circle and easing her feet on the pedal and break. She slid one of her hands down to rest on the head of the stick shift and took a deep breath, locking her eyes on the road as she started the car.

'Just drive…'

(-)(-)(-)Present(-)(-)(-)

"Fujiwara Tofu Shop," Takimi tipped her hat in greeting while Ryosuke copied her. "If it's not our tofu, it's no good."

"Charming," Snuffed the owner of the hotel, eyeing the two dressed in yellow and black before he flicked his wrist to the buffet tables in the back. "Just set the food right there and be on your way. We'd rather not have our guest see the food unprepared."

"Yessir," Tipping her hat once more, Takimi and her new charge pushed the cart all the way to the back and unloaded the boxes of tofu onto the table, a pair of hands secretly handing them some boxes from beneath the cloth-covered cart. "That all of them?"

"Yeah," Keisuke made a disgusted noise from his hiding spot. "Can't believe people eat this shit."

"Keisuke." Ryosuke scolded, surprised when the delivery girl gave a modest shrug.

"Not the best but people order it anyway." She agreed. Bunta could make a tofu just fine, but since she had to eat some of it for the most part of her life, she detested the bland food as much as the next person. "Alright, show me the way out."

Ryosuke pointed at the door at the other side of the room and the pair pushed the cart that way. They tried to look discreet as possible, the oldest Takahashi suddenly tensing up as they passed Satoshi. But the old man was busy planning the desert selection with a caterer so they managed to slip out with little hassle. Once they were out in the parking lot, Keisuke hopped out of the cart and stretched his arms above his head, sighing.

"Freedom!" He grinned, looking over to Takimi as his brother handed back the jacket and hat she loaned him. "Thanks. If you didn't help us out back there, we'd be stuck there all day."

The girl shrugged, not sure if she helped two people out or escaped with two lunatics, but feeling the gratefulness nonetheless. "Don't mention it." She walked passed them, nearly tripling when they caught up to her.

"Please, let me at least pay you back in someway, miss," Said Ryosuke, holding in his gratitude more easily than his brother. "It's the least we could do."

"Really, it's fine. I don't want anything," She pushed her cart ahead, feeling heat crawl up to her neck as their eyes lingered on her. Besides Itsuki, Yuichi, and Bunta, no other guy had stared at her for so long, especially not rugged-looking blondes or sophisticated men. She rubbed at the back of her neck to ease the blood as she made it to the parking lot building, feeling much better as she drew close to the car.

Keisuke gave a whistle. "She's a real piece of work."

"Indeed."

"Kinda cute, too."

Ryosuke raised a surprised eyebrow. Didn't Keisuke just tell their mother girls were the least of their concerns? "Keisuke?"

The latter shook his head. "Never mind. C'mon," He jingled his keys. "Let's get going. The guys are waiting."

The elder brother didn't say anything, but a million things were going off in his head as he followed his little brother.

"Never again..." Takimi landed on a heap on the side of the road, holding her stomach as her face turned green. "Never, ever again…"

"Geez, you're overreacting," Itsuki helped the shaking girl sit up and handed her a water bottle with a roll of his eyes. "Honestly, you're screaming could have ruined Inari's concentration, and then where would we all be?! Seriously, why are you so scared of driving in cars anyway?"

"You wouldn't get it," Takimi finished the bottle in a few gulps, her stomach still tumbling on her. "Even if I told you, you wouldn't."

"I would-!"

"Itsuki, take it easy on her," Inari walked over with the rest of the team, everyone else looking a little concerned. "I did push it hard on the way up here. It's only natural that Takimi would freak out after that," She gave a smile at the younger girl, a round face framed by short, dark brown hair. "Just take it easy, OK, Takimi? I think you had enough excitement for one night."

The brown-eyed student nodded in return. If she had known this was how Inari was going to take them to watch the SpeedStars practice, she would have never agreed to come. If she were the one driving, she would be fine. Being in control of the car and just being a passenger were two completely different things. If she wasn't in control, her stomach would pay the price. Hopefully, nothing else would be upsetting her stomach tonight.

"Hey, Inari, we got company!"

How fate played with her so maliciously.

Takimi looked up from her spot on the floor as a pack of blazing headlights herded themselves to the SpeedStars' side of the road. The line-up of cars were impressive, each and every one of them maintained well. She could see, "Akagi RedSuns" painted on one of the cars but only saw that much before the whole team crowded about. Was this something really to get excited about?

"Alright, listen up!" Takimi felt her heart stutter. She knew that voice. It was the blonde from before. "We're the Akagi RedSuns! You maybe heard of us. I don't wanna go off sounding like a prick but I wanna know who the fastest team and the fastest driver is on this side of the mountain! Anyone wanna claim that?"

"If it's the fastest team you're looking for, we're right here. The Akina SpeedStars," Inari crossed her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at the brothers. "And if you're looking for the fastest racer, then that might just be me; Inari Tachibana!"

"She's so cool!" Itsuki looked as if he'd die of happiness. Takimi felt ready to die of embarrassment. If the brothers saw and recognize her, that would definitely cause unwanted attention. The brunette drew away from that like the plague. The last thing she ever wanted in life was people staring at her.

She barely listened to what happened after that. Apparently, the RedSuns were there to scope out the other teams in the local area and a guy from their own team suggested that they do a couple of races. No title claims or anything, just a few races to build character and trust among the two teams. While Takimi was impressed by the suggestion of it all, Inari hesitated on the idea before she nodded.

"You're on." She replied.

"Ten 'o clock, next Saturday," Replied Keisuke as he and the team returned to their cars. "Don't piss out on us."

"Same goes for you!" Inari hissed as the RedSuns drove off to practice on the mountain. She turned back to the SpeedStars with a huff. "Time to ride, guys. If we're gonna show those RedSuns why we're the fastest team here, we gotta give some proof! Who's with me?!"

Her teammates gave their own cheers and they all hopped into their cars, driving after the RedSuns.

"You two stay here, alright?" No matter how badly Itsuki wanted to argue, the team leader wasn't having it. "This is too serious of a thing. Trust me, you do not want to be in the same car as me when I'm serious, guys. Especially if it means I get to see the skills of the Takahashi Brothers first hand."

"Takahashi Brothers?" Takimi looked up the path all the tail lights were disappearing into. "That's who they are?"

"You've been living under a rock all these years, haven't you?" Itsuki sighed exasperatedly. "How could you not know who the Takahashi Brothers are?!"

"If it helps, they're also known as the Rotary Brothers," Inari explained. That didn't help Takimi one bit. "From what's been going on in the circuit, they're said to be the fastest racers in Akagi. The guy with the blonde hair and smug attitude is the younger brother, Keisuke Takahashi. And the older guy who looks ready to stare you down is the oldest, Ryosuke Takahashi," Inari gave a small smirk. "They're hot, but I'm not gonna let that stop me from beating them."

"You look so serious, Inari," Itsuki breathed in awe. "Are you sure we can't go? This is too good to miss!"

Their superior gave a firm look. "I mean it. I'll come back for you two, I will. Just stay put." Having no further arguments, Inari sped away in a trail of dust. Itsuki fell to the floor in defeat.

"Damnit! Why are we the two losers with no car to ride in?! This is not fair!" He cried in defeat.

As Akina's mountain winds began to pick up, Takimi stuffed her hands into her jacket, her ponytail lightly thumping her back. "Hey, Itsuki? Is being a street racer all that fun as you and the others say it is? I don't get it."

"And I don't get it that you don't get it," Sighing, her friend picked himself up and looked at her in a sure way, a way that Takimi rarely seen from him. "The crazy turns, the need to catch up to your opponent, your heart beating a mile a minute. Takimi, that's what street racing brings out! It brings out a side of you no one has ever seen! The real you! Does it make any sense now?" He asked, wanting his best friend to feel as much excitement as he did because of this.

Takimi looked back to the dark path and clenched her fists, as if she were gripping the wheel of her own car.

"The real me, huh?"

(-)(-)(-)Three years ago(-)(-)(-)

Parking the car right in the garage, Takimi gave a yawn as she stepped back into the apartment and found it surprisingly empty. She scoured around the tiny apartment for her father and checked the shop as well. No sign of him.

"Business trip?" She guessed. Bunta called them business trips but Takimi was starting to wonder if they were just excuses for him to go drink at bars. But she'd never ask. That would just earn her a bucket of ice-cold water poured on her head that next morning. Deciding not to worry, she went straight up to her room and flopped herself on her bed for sleep, opening her eyes when she felt something lumpy there. Tiredly, she pulled whatever it was out and flashed on her lamp light.

It was the ugliest teddybear she'd seen in her life. It's fur was mangled and stained from who-knows-what. Whoever tried to clean it used too much bleach so the brown color of the fur was gone. Both missing eyes were replied with two different buttons, both she recognized from Bunta's old shirts. Its little red bow tie was a clip-on that was wearing out and it's green vest had plenty of holes in it. It was a monster of a toy, something that no kid would want. But then there was the note attached to its paw, the words scrawled on simply.

'Did what I could. It looks a lot like you so I thought you'd like it. -Dad

There was no, 'I love you,' or 'Thanks for helping with deliveries.' It was ugly, it smelt funny, cheap, and probably the worst present ever. But Takimi hugged it anyway. She squeezed it to her chest and shut her eyes as they began to sting.

Her father remembered.

(-)(-)(-)Present(-)(-)(-)

Bunta picked up the phone on the first ring. Customers loved the attentive-types of companies, and even though Bunta lacked this, he could at least make it up as he went along.

"Hello? Fujiwara Tofu Shop. If it's not our tofu, it's no good. Owner speaking." As soon as he heard the caller, he gave a calm smile. He only ever did that when Takimi wasn't around. Thankfully, she was out that night. "Well, what a surprise. Yours is the last voice I expected to hear."

'Good to talk to you, too,' Yuichi chuckled on the other end. 'Is that the way you talk to an old friend?' He laughed again, already knowing the answer to that. 'That aside, I just remember that you passed me on a way back from your delivery, I signaled you but you blew right by me as if I was nobody.'

"Huh? Real sorry to disappoint you, but that wasn't me." Replied his old friend. Bunta hadn't been driving in the mountains for ages now.

'Had to be. It was the panda, without a doubt. The 86, Bunta. I'd know your car anywhere.'

It hit him, then. Bunta gave a short laugh, flicking ashes off the cigarette he lit a while ago.

"OK, you caught me," He sighed. "It was my car you saw but I wasn't the one driving it at the time. My daughter, Takimi, is the one delivering tofu to the hotels now." He pulled his ear away from the phone as Yuichi made a coughing noise. Must have spat out his drink.

'W-Wait, what did you say?! Takimi?! Your Tamiki? My employee?! Since when?'

The old man's forehead crinkled. How long had it been? He could never keep the track of time.

"I don't know. Five, six years? Give or take one?"

'Your kid's been making deliveries since middle school?!"

Giving a long, tired yawn, Takimi rolled her shoulders for a second, getting her thoughts back into motion as she drove the Trueno through the more close cornered roads of Akina. This path was nothing but a breeze for her since she rode along them since middle school. By knowing which way to go and when to shift gears, she could reel her thoughts back to racing.

For the past few days, after Inari observed the RedSuns and Itsuki laying down what was good about racing, Takimi couldn't get it out of her head. Was it really that fun, more so than what she gave it credit for? It felt tiring for her, at first. Staying up late and waking up early, it screwed her up a little. That was the flaw to it. But now, with this new insight of racing, she didn't know what to think. Her mind was left in a muck.

It was then that Takimi finally noticed some other car trying to pass her. A bright yellow FD. How long had it been trying to pass her? And why did it look so familiar?

If there was one thing Takimi was sure of, it was that she was not going to let this car pass her. The road was narrow, one car in front of the other unless the two could switch. But Takimi couldn't afford to switch. Home was just a few hairpin turns and a climb away. She only had a few hours of sleep and didn't want to waste them. Sitting up, she took ahold of the 86 and kicked her driving into turbo. Not once did she let the FD pass her, not even on any of the close turns. This was when she decided to observe.

The FD was fast, but cautious on turns. It didn't know when to go fast or slow at just the right moment. But Takimi did. She knew. Five to six years of driving this oldie but goodie hadn't gone to waste.

Nearing the final hairpin, she barely heard the driver shout, "STOP!" as she accelerated and reversed the wheels in one slick move. Her chest swelled with air as the Tureno power slid right through the curve, one split second made as she straightened the wheels and charged through the inertial, the brunette guiding the stick shift with poise as she made it through the curves, leaving behind a wake of mystery that even she didn't know she left.

"Ryo," Keisuke wasn't sure if he was dreaming or dead, but he sure did feel like he was floating. "Ryosuke," He had no idea what to say. His heart and chest were trying to get blood and oxygen in quickly. His head was spinning, but he wasn't sure if it was from that. He had never felt this more excited before. "Ryosuke… I think I just saw the fastest racer in Akina… Drive an 86."

Takimi handed the receipts and bills of yen to Bunta as soon as she got home. "There," She yawned, removing her shoes. "Going to bed. Night."

"How was it?"

She stopped at the foot of the steps, turning to her father as he held the stacks of paper. Maybe he was sober, or maybe she was tired, but the question made Takimi smile a little. Was this something of a conversation?

"Fine. Got nauseous, but I'm fine." It had to be kept short, though. The both of them knew that neither of them could keep a long conversation. It just didn't work that way.

And Bunta understood. He gave a hum and returned to the earnings. "Alright. Night."

Having that, Takimi hurried up the steps and flung herself onto her bed like a rag doll. She sighed as she sunk into the mattress, finding her sleeping clothes she washed earlier and changing into them in no time. She slid into the covers and closed her eyes, finding it a little harder to sleep. Maybe, just maybe, it was from the race with FD. Maybe that's what got Itsuki and Inari excited about racing.

As she thought this, Takimi pulled an old and worn teddybear over to her, hugging it tightly as she fell asleep.

Maybe she could become that excited. So excited that she wouldn't want to sleep at all.

To Be Continued!

And that is all for no,w my dear friends! Please, let me know what you think about this so far! If there are any other characters you wish to see genderbent or otherwise, let me know! I'd be happy to take request ^^ I plan on working on the second chapter soon so please keep an eye out. Once again, thank you for looking at the fic! I hope you enjoyed it ^_^

This is me saying, Peace!