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Itsuki was giddy, walking down some backstreet in Ikaho. It had been a little over two years since Takumi had left to go to Europe, and a little longer since they’d last had the chance to talk face to face. Sure they texted and called every so often, but once he’d heard that Takumi was back in town he knew they had to hang out at Akina again. He’d kept his Eight-Five from high school, upgrading both the engine and the turbo, and was curious as to what Takumi thought of her now.
Seeing the familiar shop in the distance, he picked up his pace. Parked in the lot to the side was Fujiwara-san’s blue Subaru, just as clean as always, and on the road was a familiar Panda Trueno. A smile stretching across his face, Itsuki opened up the door and, in a sing-song voice, announced his presence with a loud “Ta~kumi!!”
When only slow jazz background music greeted him, Itsuki opened his eyes and looked around. The tofu storefront was empty, which while not uncommon, was a little upsetting. Frowning, he walked up towards the main display case for the shop, and peered over the counter to the door in the back of the room. Maybe Takumi was out to get something?
He cleared his voice and tried again, calling “Fujiwara-san?” loudly into the empty room.
A beat passed, and before he could find a bell to ring, he heard quick heavy footsteps from the next room. A grin broke over his face and he excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, eager to see his childhood best friend. However, when someone completely different walked out, Itsuki’s face fell in total confusion.
“Sorry for the wait, what can I get ya’?” a man who looked startingly close to Takahashi Keisuke, ex-RedSuns member and now international race car mechanic walked up to the register. However, instead of the shorter bleached hair pushed back and styled that Itsuki remembers Keisuke wearing, this man’s hair was much longer. His black roots were beginning to show, and most of his hair had been swept back into a poor excuse of a hairnet that he was now trying to fix. A silver industrial and lobe piercing sat in one ear, while the other had another lobe and a pair of helices. There was no way this guy was one of the Takahashi brothers, especially not since Keisuke went overseas to claim his fame.
This man looked closer to a Tokyo gangster than a modest tofu worker.
Stuttering awkwardly, Itsuki held up a hand and backed up towards the door, blushing. “A-Ah, sorry, I must be mistaken, I thought I was in Fujiwara Tofu. My bad, I’ll, uh, just get going-”
He was in such a hurry that he neglected to hear the ‘ wait- ’ that came from the man who was very much not Takahashi. Quickly pushing open the exit, he met an unexpected resistance and heard a pained yelp as he practically rammed it into the poor soul standing just outside. Eyes widening, Itsuki immediately went to fix his mistake, slipping out the door and kneeling down in front of the hunched up figure desperately holding their nose with a cardboard box at their feet.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you alright? H-Here, let me see, is it bleeding?” he fussed, helping the other man stand with a hand on his arm.
“Ah, no, I’m alright, I think…” they said, standing up straight and holding a hand to their nose. The man before him pulled his hand away to check for blood, using the other to push back his cropped brown hair with a huff. Ituski’s eyes widened, and he tightened his grip unintentionally. The shop door burst open just after, and the blond not-Takahashi quickly said what was going through Itsuki’s mind.
“Holy shit, Takumi!”
Itsuki could do nothing but stumble a few paces back and watch as the not-Takahashi went to his childhood friend and cradled his head in his hands to look closer at Takumi’s nose. The blond tutted, turning Takumi’s head to and fro until he was swatted away. Scowling, the shopkeeper spun around to face Itsuki, and he thought right then and there he was about to be beaten up like the gang members he heard about on TV.
Before he could start begging for his life, Takumi reached around and grabbed a hold of the blond’s arm. “Hold on, Keisuke, it was just an accident, I’m sure-” Takumi finally looked over at who smashed a door into his face, eyes widening, “Itsuki?”
He was going to say hello, but the blond’s name made him do a double-take, “Keisuke? Wait, like Takahashi Keisuke?!”
“Hah? Yeah, why? Who the fuck are you?” The blond in question lifted his nose threateningly, moving to push up one of his sleeves. Itsuki held up his hands and took another step back.
“Keisuke, stop.” Takumi came to the rescue, putting himself in front of the blond and nervously smiling at Itsuki. “Sorry, he’s just being an asshole -- come inside Itsuki! It’s so good to finally see you.”
Dazed, Itsuki slipped in the door Takumi opened for him, and headed past the counters towards the door in the back. “Ah, yeah,” he started, looking over his shoulder to see Takumi following him. Keisuke walked in last, holding the cardboard box the brunette had dropped earlier. “I heard you came back from the UK to help your dad and- I’m sorry, why is Takahashi Keisuke here?”
Takumi’s eyebrows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder curiously before looking back to Itsuki. “He’s… here to help out with the shop?” The two of them sat down on the tatami mats in the main room before an old tube TV. Itsuki was sure it had been there since they were both in high school. He watched the empty door for a moment. Keisuke stayed in the shop to put away whatever Takumi was probably trying to bring inside earlier.
“He… well, anyways, it’s so good to see you!” Ituski happily exclaimed, figuring he should just leave confusing things behind. Movement from the back of the room stopped Takumi from replying. They both turned to see Takumi’s father, Bunta, standing in the doorway. His hair had turned grayer since the last time Itsuki had seen him, yet besides a general sense of age, he didn’t look much different. Pulling a cigarette out of his mouth, he frowned.
“Allowing people over and not even offering them tea, brat? I thought I taught you better than that. Get outta my spot and start a kettle.”
Takumi only sighed, his hand coming up to rub at the side of his face before standing. “Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he moved over, Bunta quickly taking his spot on the tatami mat. “What kind do you want, Itsuki?”
Smiling, Itsuki simply raised a hand, “I don’t mind, whatever you’ve got.” Turning back to the older man, he nodded his head in greeting. “I haven’t seen you in a while, either, Fujiwara-san. How have you been? Enjoying having Takumi back?”
This, Itsuki thought, was familiar ground. Nothing was weird about talking to Takumi and his family for a visit. Maybe Keisuke being here was just a hallucination, nothing more.
Bunta blew out the smoke from his cigarette, reaching across the table to pull an ashtray closer. “It’s been a pain,” he started, “the brat is one thing, but he had to go and bring along that punk o’ his.” Ituski frowned, punk o’ whose? Takumi’s? But then who would he be talking about as the punk?
“A pain? You enjoy having someone else to help you tease Tak’, don’t you lie you old man,” Keisuke said, slipping off the shoes at the doorway.
Ah, so it wasn’t a hallucination. Keisuke Takahashi really was standing in the middle of the Fujiwara residence… Well actually, could this be a super elaborate dream? The blond came over to sit down beside Bunta huffily. Takumi came out from the kitchen before Itsuki could try and pinch himself, moving to sit down by Ituski across from Keisuke to wait for the kettle.
“Takumi, I’ll say it again, I swear if you’ve brought a yakuza member into this house,” Bunta started, giving Keisuke a dirty side glare. The blond reacted immediately, scowling and lifting up both of his hands, palms facing himself, and held them up before Bunta. Itsuki distantly noticed that he had a ring on.
“Hah? Yakuza?? How many times I gotta tell ya, I got all my fingers! I ain’t no yakuza you old-”
Takumi reached across the table, grabbing ahold of one of Keisuke’s wrists and actually laughing, “He’s just teasing you, god calm down.” Bunta seemed to be indeed teasing, as he was smirking as he took another drag from his cigarette.
Itsuki stayed silent the whole while, watching as Keisuke flushed and his scowl deepened before turning away from the older man. Takumi smiled warmly at the blond, and Bunta moved to grab a newspaper from off the table, flicking his ashes. Ituski blinked at the atmosphere the three had, as if this was a common occurrence. Takumi reached across the table again and took the messy hair net from off of Keisuke, and Keisuke actually let him. Itsuki didn’t know what was going on.
LIfting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly, he glanced between the three others. “Uh,” he started, watching Takumi continue to smile and laugh at a grumbling Keisuke, “excuse me, did I miss something?” Takumi and Keisuke paused to look at him, and the kettle began to whistle. Bunta put down the newspaper and his cigarette into the ashtray, standing with a huff, excusing himself with an “I’ll get it.”
“What do you mean?” Takumi had the audacity to ask while holding a hand out mid-ruffle of Keisuke’s hair. Itsuki only blinked, looking wide-eyed between the two of them before raising an eyebrow. “Since when has the Takahashi Keisuke been a friend who visits your house so much?”
“Oh my god,” Keisuke broke in before Takumi could reply, looking over to the brunette. “You’ve seriously never said anything to him? I thought this kid was like your high school best friend?”
“Kid-?” Itsuki started, taken aback by Keisuke’s insult, but before he could tell the blond he was older than Takumi , the one in question raised a hand to lightly scratch at his cheek.
“Ah… I guess I forgot.” He looked sheepish, avoiding both of their gazes. Keisuke choked a bit on air, hand coming down onto the table, “Forgot - How much did you forget?” The brunette shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Itsuki before turning his head to look at the wall, and he hummed. “Well… a-all of it?”
Keisuke nearly lunged over the table, eyes wide, “Tak’ it’s been almost five years!”
Itsuki felt nauseous, “Five years since what…?”
Takumi turned back towards Itsuki, honest to god blushing , and put a hand on his neck nervously, “Ah, well, I may have forgotten to tell you that I’d been dating Keisuke since the end of Project D…”
He’d left for Europe two years ago, after two years of national professional racing, and a summer of Project D. Itsuki felt lightheaded, “D-dating?” Takumi had the audacity to chuckle, and before Itsuki could start shouting, Bunta suddenly appeared and set down a tray with tea mugs with a clack.
The oldest Fujiwara simply sat down with a huff, and grabbed a mug. “Don’t feel too put out, he only told me outright about it when I heard about them wanting to get engaged.”
“Engaged?!”
Takumi quickly held up his hands, able to tell that Itsuki was just about to lose it, “O-Of course not officially, y’know, because the laws and stuff!”
Itsuki simply watched the matching silver ring on the brunette’s hand, eyes wide, “This has got to be a fever dream…”
Keisuke cackled, holding a cup of tea close to his face. “‘Fraid not, shortstack.”
Silence soon filled the room. Takumi threw a worried glance toward Keisuke as Itsuki simply sat. Bunta lit a cigarette, feigning reading the newspaper as he watched the three curiously. The brunette began to worry, shifting in place with his hands now folded in his lap. Before he could say anything, however, Itsuki abruptly stood and turned towards the door, swaying like he’d just walked out of a bar.
“This has to be a dream,” he said, moving to sit down to pull on his shoes at the doorway, eyes wide still. “Of course it’s a dream, no way my best friend could be dating his arch-nemesis for five years and just… forget to tell me… no way.”
Distantly, Itsuki could hear Keisuke choke out an ' arch-what?! ’, but Takumi was suddenly rushing to grab onto his shoulder worriedly, spewing apologies and kneeling down beside him.
“Itsuki, wait, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it! I-I just didn’t know how you’d react and I was worried you’d be upset, and then going pro and everything started rolling and I just figured it’d be easier not to tell you guys so shit like this wouldn’t happen because Keisuke is a guy and y’know-”
He jerked his head up, blinking, wait a minute - “A guy?” Itsuki asked, looking to an outstandingly worried Takumi, who actually looked close to tearing up. “You’re worried I would be upset because Keisuke’s a guy? Takumi, he's a Takahashi, like, have you seen his brother? Christ, I wouldn’t mind marrying him myself!” Someone in the back of the room barked out a laugh, he wasn’t sure who.
“I don’t care what gender you fall in love with, I’m just upset you didn’t trust me enough to tell me at all! You’re engaged, Takumi! You didn’t wanna invite me to like the party or anything?!” Itsuki could tell he was beginning to cry, but looking at his best friend he wasn’t fairing too much better. A weak laugh escaped him, and he glanced over to Keisuke and Bunta. They were both watching and sipping their tea, Bunta trying to look less interested than he was by holding up the paper higher.
Takumi simply rubbed his face, sitting back a bit with a shaky sigh. “You’re the first person I’ve told from Shibukawa, besides my dad… Most people outside of Project D don’t really know, I don’t think… well, except whoever Kenta convinced.”
He chuckled weakly, remembering how many rumors he heard come from Keisuke’s apprentice. Itsuki rubbed his own face, moving to take off his messily put on shoes once again, “I’ll forgive you if we go to a barbecue to celebrate you two bein’ together, we can invite Iketani-senpai, too.”
Nodding, Takumi shifted his weight slightly, and held out a hand to shake. “Deal,” he said when Itsuki grabbed onto it.
Keisuke got up, and walked over to the two, crouching down beside Takumi. Reaching out, the blond put a hand on Takumi’s head and ruffled his hair slightly, huffing. “You two done being crybabies yet? C’mon, tea’s gettin’ cold. Christ.” Despite his harsh tone, Takumi still weakly smiled and took the hand offered to him to get up, Itsuki standing soon afterwards.
He hovered in the doorway a moment longer, watching the two go back over to the table and undergo Bunta’s harassing. This was certainly not what he expected coming to see his high school best friend, but honestly he couldn’t have felt any happier for Takumi.