The Apex Predator
Synopsis: Rin sacrificed you for the sake of soccer, and now he’s back after two years. But you were no longer the girl he’s known his entire life. While he’s too busy chasing goals, you’ve been busy chasing finishing lines.
TW: Rin Itoshi X F! Reader (Blue Lock) A bit of angst, happy ending, conflict, baddie (Y/n), racer (Y/n), yes racer like as in driving cars and stuff, this was very impulsive after watching the latest F1 races
Parts:
1 (When Goals Meets Finish Lines)
2 (Ego And Asphalt)
3 (No Brakes Past This Point)
4 (Parked Between Us)
5 (Crossing The Line Together)
6 (Built For Speed)
7 (The Apex Predator) You are here
By the time you had gotten back from changing, Hayashi had already directed Rin toward the viewing area overlooking the pit lane while one of the engineers guided you deeper into the pit garage itself. The atmosphere changed the moment the doors slid open behind you. It became colder somehow, quieter too despite the constant activity around you.
Mechanics moved around with frightening precision while engineers monitored glowing telemetry screens, conversations staying low and professional underneath the occasional sound of power tools and roaring engines from neighboring garages. There were many people gathered around, busying themselves with their jobs. Which confused you, weren’t you the only one supposed to take the test today?
But no matter, the only thing you needed to wrap your head around was the incoming race. And you did that, relaxing your muscles with the same breathing exercises that Rin taught you and used himself whenever he needed to calm down before a big game. It was going all well, all the training you had since childhood were coming back to you and you were feeling more pumped, until the moment your eyes caught sight of it, causing your breath to hitch in surprise. Your steps slowed to a stop immediately as you took a double look. Nope, actually you need to blink once again and rub your eyes in surprise.
Only then after that long ass sequence did you physically gasp. Parked beneath the bright fluorescent lights was the F2 car they had prepared for you, the black paint practically swallowing the light around it. The machine looked less like a car and more like some predatory animal crouched low against the asphalt waiting to lunge forward at any second. It made your old formula car look like a joke in comparison, to be completely honest.
The aura alone that the car gave off made you want to genuflect on your knees before it, and keep in mind, this was before they even turned on the engine. Yes, I know I was being very dramatic. But this engine wasn’t like any God you worshipped, this was a beast. A king more ferocious than any lion. It was more rabid and feral than anything on the top of the food chain, and a machine like that took guts to control.
The car represented the team it belonged to, very well. It was an Apex Predator. Its sleek curves wrapped around the carbon fiber bodywork while sharp aerodynamic edges cut through the air even while standing still. It looked dangerous in the most beautiful way possible. Honestly, it might’ve been more breathtaking than Mount Fuji itself, though maybe you were a little biased considering your unhealthy obsession with cars.
The formula car matched your track suit perfectly, almost like the entire thing had been designed together as one complete image. Matte black carbon fiber stretched across the body with silver linings accenting the sharp contours of the chassis, giving it an aggressive but refined appearance.And painted boldly along the sides was the Apex emblem, the scarlet red “A” standing out sharply against the dark bodywork.
It was stunning, the logo itself looked intimidating up close. The shape of the “A” resembled both a star and the silhouette of a speeding car at the same time, sharp and angular while the surrounding circular ring wrapped around it like motion frozen mid-turn. The red they used wasn’t bright or flashy either. It was deep and rich, almost the exact same shade as the red from Japan’s flag.
You could even smell it from way over here, that new car scent was driving you crazy. It smelled so heavenly that it scratched that specific itch in your brain at just the right angle. It made you practically drool, albeit at least not as bad as Rin does in his flow state. The numbering on the car had the same striking red shade with a 6 on the front hood and surprisingly it even had a couple of sponsor decals that almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets. They had many different brands backing them up, those specifically based in Japan, most notably Toyota, Mitsubishi, Nissan, and Honda. You had to physically remind yourself to breathe.
“… No way.” You spoke, but at the moment with how you were acting, you probably looked like a weirdo to everyone else.
The companies sponsoring Apex were monsters inside the automotive world. Giants. Rivals even! So why the Hell were these guys, who constantly competed against each other in different corners of motorsport and the automobile industry, come together to sponsor this academy?! This alone said more about Apex than any speech Hayashi gave earlier. It proved even more that this wasn’t some underground development program, they were the next coming Blue Lock Program.
This place was serious and they were just getting fired up. They had companies all over Japan pooling all of their resources, putting behind their pride and coming together to create the most perfect Academy to rival those World-class Europeans. Your heart started pounding harder in your chest from pure excitement alone as you forced yourself to move. You approached the car quickly, again forgetting that there were still engineers and mechanics around watching you. Though, you bet they wouldn’t really care as to what you did, because one thing for sure, you wouldn’t be in this paddock unless you loved cars. Surely they had the same reaction as you.
So you, treating this car like it was your first time ever seeing or driving such a magnificent beast, may actually not be the weirdest thing your team of mechanics and engineers have witnessed in their lifetime. The closer you got to the vehicle, the more details you noticed. The exposed carbon weave beneath certain sections of the matte paint, the silver aerodynamic fins, the impossibly low ride height, the slick racing tires were still spotless from preparation.
Even the smell hit differently in comparison to your old car. The fresh rubber, machine oil, and new carbon fiber smelled once again divine. It smelled like money, danger, and speed all mixed together into one intoxicating scent. You moved toward the cockpit almost instinctively, crouching slightly to look inside while your fingers lightly brushed against the halo structure.
It had admittedly been a while since you last drove a formula car and something with this much pressure— both literally and figuratively, on your shoulders, but your body still recognized it immediately. Years of drilling it into your brain and muscle memory was awakening. The shape of the steering wheel, the tight cockpit opening, the seating position, the countless switches and controls staring back at you. It was starting to feel like yesterday was when you first got in your first formula car.
You knew formula cars. You knew how sensitive they were, how violently they reacted to mistakes, how every tiny movement mattered once you were going at those kinds of speeds. You knew how hard it was to turn the steering wheel, how hard it was to press down on the brakes, and how hard the strain was on your neck when you’re going at speeds of around 335 km/h.
You remembered the pressure of sitting inches above the asphalt while the entire car practically became an extension of your body. But you weren't afraid or nervous, (you lied a bit on the nervous portion) you've been driving for as long as you could remember, you could probably even do it blind folded.
Ever since you gave up being in your old racing academy, you've been completely focused on dominating the underground racing scene. And though you don’t regret it, the moment’s come to back you back in the ass. You've haven’t been able to touch a formula car in so long that you’re not sure if you could produce the same results as you were before when you still hadn’t left the academy. But you had to try your damn hardest for this.
And God, you missed this more than you realized. A quiet laugh escaped from you before you could stop it, disbelief and excitement mixing together while you circled the car again like you were scared it would disappear if you looked away for too long. Somewhere behind you, one of the mechanics chuckled softly at your reaction while another continued adjusting something near the rear suspension.
You barely noticed them. Because standing in front of this machine, staring at the black carbon fiber body gleaming beneath the garage lights, something inside you settled with complete certainty. You belonged here. And though you were too distracted to notice a lot of things going on at the moment, your mind was still able to think critically. You were well aware of why they made you drive an F2 car, not a F1 or even a F3.
Driving a standard Formula 2 car was different from F1 in a lot of ways, and not just because of speed alone. An F2 was designed to be far more standardized compared to F1, but also because most of the cars used nearly identical chassis, engines, aerodynamic packages, and technical setups, which meant there was far less room for teams to rely on superior machinery to gain an advantage over others.
In F1, engineering played a massive role, the smallest technological advantage could completely change the outcome of a race. Teams spent millions constantly developing their cars, refining aerodynamics, improving downforce, adjusting suspension geometry, and finding microscopic performance gains that normal people wouldn’t even notice.
Formula 2 stripped most of that away. The cars were intentionally kept more equal so that the focus shifted heavily toward the driver themselves. Their racecraft, adaptability, consistency, braking control, throttle management, and mental composure became far more exposed once everyone was given machinery that performed similarly.
There was nowhere to hide in Formula 2. No massively superior car to carry sloppy technique. No absurd engineering advantage to compensate for hesitation. Mistakes became obvious almost immediately, especially because F2 cars were less refined and more unforgiving than F1 machinery. They lacked the overwhelming aerodynamic grip and technological sophistication that made Formula 1 cars feel almost inhuman at times.
F2 demanded that the driver wrestle control out of the car themselves instead of letting the machine smooth everything over for them. Which was probably exactly why Kurogane started you here. Because if F1 was the polished final stage of racing evolution, then Formula 2 was where drivers got stripped down to their fundamentals and exposed for what they truly were behind the wheel.
“So, if you're done aweing at the car, do you have any questions or want any small adjustments before you start?” A man wearing a standard mechanic suit with the Apex logo tapped on your shoulder from behind.
You finally tore your eyes away from the car and looked back at him. He looked around his late twenties, maybe early thirties, grease stains faintly visible along his gloves despite how clean the rest of the garage was. Compared to Hayashi’s sharp professionalism, the mechanic carried himself more casually, though the way he observed both you and the car made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing. Your gaze shifted back toward the F2.
You crouched lower near the side of the chassis again, eyes narrowing slightly as you studied the setup more carefully now that the initial excitement had worn off a little. The suspension geometry looked aggressive. Low ride height. Tight setup. Built for maximum grip and precision. Too precise. You reached out, lightly pressing against part of the front suspension while mentally piecing things together from the setup sheet resting nearby.
“… So this is Kurogane’s setup preference.” You muttered mostly to yourself.
The mechanic raised a brow slightly. “You can tell already?”
“It’s stiff…” Your voice was also stiff
“In Formula racing that’s usually the point.”
“Yeah, but this feels like it wants to kill me the second I touch a curb wrong.” That earned an amused snort from one of the nearby engineers.
You stood back up fully now, crossing your arms as you stared at the car again, mentally imagining how it would behave once pushed near the limit. Fast corner entry. Extremely responsive. Sharp weight transfer. But unforgiving. Very unforgiving. That sounded exactly like something Kurogane Renji would prefer.
You’ve heard of Kurogane Renji’s name before this, anyone who was a part of underground racing would know if only they ask around. He was a myth in the community, the King of racing. Some people still talk about him, but no one really knows the whole truth of his story. It was said that people called him the Black Comet because whenever he appears in a race, he only shows up for a moment, destroys the competition, and leaves without a trace.
You weren’t sure how it happened but there were multiple rumors as to why he stopped racing. Some say he died in a car crash, others say he was scouted to go racing more professionally which obviously was fake. So no one really knows for certain what exactly went down except for the fact that in his most critical and important race, he lost. Resulting in it being his last ever race to be seen in.
“Can you soften the rear anti-roll bar slightly?” you suddenly asked, which made the mechanic blinked once, “And loosen the rear suspension compression just a bit.” You continued while walking toward the nose of the chassis, “Not too much. I still want responsiveness, just enough so the rear doesn’t snap violently during exit recovery.”
The mechanic stared at you for a few seconds longer now, clearly reevaluating you internally, “You haven’t even driven the car yet.” He pointed out slightly offended
You shrugged lightly, “Will it be done quickly?"
One of the engineers immediately began adjusting notes on the setup tablet while another moved toward the rear of the car, “And remove some steering resistance if possible.” You added, “Not completely. Just enough that I’m not fighting the wheel through every high-speed correction.”
“Do you prefer lighter steering?” The mechanic asked curiously.
“No...” Your eyes remained fixed on the car, “It just suits my driving style better..”
The atmosphere around you shifted slightly after that. The mechanics who initially looked at you with mild curiosity earlier now seemed far more attentive. Not impressed exactly, Apex didn’t seem like the kind of place that praised people openly, but interested. Because most drivers didn’t immediately request setup changes like that before even entering the cockpit.
After that, it was a blur, the team introduced themselves to you as they fixed up the last modifications to the car before pushing it out to the grid and strapping you in it. Giving you one last check up before giving the okay signal to start the race which will be timed based. Now this was it, the final minute before you make a big decision, do well and change your life or fail and stick to underground racing for the rest of your life. One thing was for damn sure, whatever happens, you’ll be giving it your all to fight for a future you could be proud of.
Your helmet felt stuffy against your skin, the tight confines of the cockpit pressing around your body while the heavy harness locked you firmly into place. The engine beneath you vibrated violently through the carbon fiber chassis, every pulse of the machine traveling directly into your chest. It was loud enough that you could barely hear your own breathing underneath the roar. But you ignored all of it. Instead, you focused on your heartbeat. Slow. Steady. Calm down.
You tightened your grip around the steering wheel slightly, your gloved fingers flexing once as your eyes remained locked onto the starting lights ahead. Beyond the halo, the entire world seemed strangely distant now. The pit crew. The engineers. The observation deck where Rin was watching from somewhere above. Even Mount Fuji itself faded into the background. Everything disappeared. There was no (Y/n). No Rin. No Takeshi. No Apex. Just a driver and the machine beneath her. Then above you, 5 red lights illuminate one by one at one second intervals, until the very last one lights up…
And then suddenly, all 5 red lights go out.
Your foot slammed down on the throttle almost instantly. The rear tires screamed against the asphalt for a split second before violently gripping the track, the entire car launching forward so aggressively that your body was shoved hard against the seat despite the harness locking you down. The engine roared behind your head like an animal unleashed from its cage while the scenery ahead immediately blurred into streaks of color and motion.
The acceleration was brutal. Formula cars didn’t ease you into speed gently, they forced it onto your body all at once. Your vision tightened slightly from the sudden surge of G-force pressing against your chest while your hands instinctively tightened around the steering wheel. The car shot forward down the straight at terrifying speed, vibrations traveling violently through the carbon fiber chassis and directly into your bones.
But you didn’t hesitate. You couldn’t. The first corner approached impossibly fast, faster than normal road cars ever could. Your brain barely had enough time to register the braking marker before instinct took over completely. Your foot slammed onto the brakes with enough force to make your entire body jolt forward against the harness while the car screamed beneath you in protest.
Downshift.
Downshift again. The steering wheel fought heavily against your grip as you threw the car into the corner, the tires biting hard into the asphalt while the sheer lateral force tried to drag your head sideways. Your neck immediately strained from the pressure but you ignored it completely, eyes locked onto the racing line ahead while your body moved almost entirely on muscle memory alone.
The car was sensitive. Violently sensitive. Every tiny input mattered. A little too much steering and the rear threatened to step out. A little too much throttle and the tires protested immediately beneath you. There was no room for hesitation at these speeds, no time to second guess yourself once the car committed to a corner.
But somehow… God, it felt good. The moment you exited the first corner and slammed down onto the throttle again, something inside your chest ignited violently. The engine screamed louder as the speed climbed higher and higher, 180… 220… 260 kilometers per hour. The track stretched endlessly ahead while the world around you blurred into meaningless shapes.
And somewhere along the way, the pain stopped mattering. The pressure crushing against your body. The strain in your arms. The burning sensation slowly building in your neck from fighting the G-forces. You stopped noticing all of it. Because right now, the only thing that mattered was the next corner. The next braking point. Becoming the next apex predator was your goal. You pushed harder. Later braking. More throttle on corner exit.
The rear tires twitched dangerously beneath you as the car aggressively rotated through a high-speed section, but instead of panicking, your hands corrected instinctively. Small and precise. The exact kind of movement someone only developed after years of driving unstable machines at illegal speeds through mountain roads at 2 in the morning.
The F2 responded beautifully. Not perfectly, but oh so beautifully. Above the pit lane at the viewing deck, Rin stared through the observation glass almost speechless. The speed itself was terrifying enough already, but what unsettled him more was the way you drove. There was no fear in your movements anymore. No uncertainty. You looked completely different inside that cockpit, like the moment the race started, something else entirely took over your body.
He could feel his heart racing in fear for your safety, every time the black Formula 2 car disappeared into another corner at impossible speeds, his chest tightened so hard it almost hurt. Rin had watched countless intense matches before, had stood on fields where one mistake could cost everything, had experienced pressure so overwhelming that it usually made people crumble beneath it. But somehow, this felt different. Worse.
Because unlike soccer, there was no safe distance between you and danger here. One wrong movement. One late reaction. One tire losing grip at over 300 kilometers per hour. That was all it would take. Rin’s hands unconsciously curled tighter against the railing in front of him as his eyes stayed glued to the circuit below. That was his girl risking her life for a future she wished to see. And he was borderline losing it between deciding if he should be proud or fear for her life.
The black Apex car flew through another section of the track so fast it almost didn’t look real, the engine screaming violently as it cut across the asphalt like some kind of weapon barely being contained. Every corner looked dangerous to him. Every aggressive overtake of the racing line made his stomach twist harder.
And the worst part? You looked alive. You looked alive out there. More alive than he had seen you in years. Who knew you had this entirely new persona underneath, he was sure your ego was in action. You looked completely fearless. No hesitation or second thoughts as you drove like someone who trusted the machine beneath them with their life entirely and that realization terrified him more than he wanted to admit.
Because Rin knew you. He knew how reckless you could become whenever something truly mattered to you. The more pressure placed on your shoulders, the more stubborn you became about proving yourself, even if it destroyed you in the process. His jaw tightened slightly as the car disappeared briefly behind another sector before reappearing moments later down the straight, moving so fast it almost blurred together with the track itself.
And somehow that only made the fear inside his chest worse despite how proud and slightly excited he was for you. It made Rin feel unhinged. Because Rin finally understood something clearly now. This wasn’t some phase. This wasn’t some hobby you’d eventually grow out of. And he knew that, even before, sometimes he’d just hope it wasn’t real. Racing was stitched into your existence so deeply that taking it away from you would probably feel the same as ripping soccer away from him. It was the place where you felt the most complete, the place where all your thoughts sharpened into instinct and movement until nothing else in the world mattered anymore.
Just like him during a match. The realization settled heavily in his chest while his eyes followed your car entering another corner aggressively enough that even some of the engineers below shifted slightly in reaction. And despite how scared he was for you, despite how badly he wanted to tell you to slow down, to stop pushing yourself so recklessly, another part of him couldn’t look away.
Because you were beautiful like this. So terrifyingly beautiful. The same way lightning storms were beautiful right before they destroyed something. And so when the black F2 sliced through the circuit violently, attacking corners with an aggression that made even some of the engineers below pause from their telemetry screens briefly, it made Rin’s breath be caught in his throat. The rear of the car occasionally stepped just slightly on corner exits before immediately getting corrected again, not sloppily, but intentionally. Controlled instability.
This was Rin’s first time watching a formula race and he’d never had expected to be watching it in real life nor that you’d be driving it. He didn’t even know what to expect from this race or how the rules worked, usually he’d just ignore you when you have races playing in the background while you both studied in his room before, so Rin had been searching on google like crazy earlier trying to figure out the basics of Formula racing and how to tell if someone is going to crash or not.
And he didn’t fully understand racing even after that short research session he had earlier. But this was definitely going at faster speeds than he’d expected it to have gone, it seemed slower in the videos he watched somehow. But he was glad he brought the omamori that you gave him, those 2 years ago, not like he ever left it, it was always with him one way or another. He needed something in this moment to keep him grounded while you threw yourself at speeds he’d probably pass out on if he were the one driving. Rin actually carried the omamori in his bag wherever he went, especially when he had a match.
At first, he just kept it around as a goodluck charm. And though he views luck not as random magic, but as an active, mechanical element on the soccer field that rewards those with relentless resolve. It does help to ease his mind with having the omamori around, not because he believes in the luck it gives but because you gave it. It was like he was carrying a part of you with him through his hardships and yes, if you were wondering, it did help him feel a little less lonely in Blue Lock.
It was especially helpful when he first started out there, back when the scent of your perfume lingering on it was still strong, until it eventually faded out, Rin got grumpy and mourned for a few days because of that, which made the other boys wonder what got Rin so worked up. He treasured that small item secretly, making sure not to get it dirty or accidentally damaged it. And no one else knew it existed except for him and you, though he doubts you’d still remember giving him this. Your memory was really ass.
But going back, in this moment looking at you speeding away, even Rin could tell you were driving like someone trying to devour the track whole and he wondered if you were in a flow state right now just like he’d be in soccer. Meanwhile, down below near the pit wall, several engineers exchanged quick glances while telemetry data rapidly updated across their monitors.
“She’s overdriving the rear.”
“But she’s maintaining control.”
“Brake input’s aggressive.”
“… Her recovery timing is insane.”
And standing slightly behind them all with his arms crossed was Kurogane Renji himself. Silent and watching. Rin spotted him from the corner of his eyes, taking off his eyes on you for a second to see what he assumed to be your coach since the man’s vibes practically screamed that he runs Apex. Kurogane’s sharp eyes, which Rin noted were even sharper and more intense than Ego's, followed the black F2 as it flew across the circuit at nearly 300 kilometers per hour before diving violently into another corner with barely controlled aggression.
Most drivers approached Formula cars carefully during evaluations. You attacked it again and again relentlessly. And somehow, against all logic, the machine seemed to respond to you better the harder you pushed it. Your body screamed at you by the second lap. The G-forces grew more brutal the faster you drove, your neck straining painfully every time the car changed direction at high speed while your forearms slowly burned from wrestling the steering wheel through corners.
Sweat gathered beneath your fireproof suit despite the cold weather outside, your breathing growing sharper inside the helmet while your heartbeat hammered violently in your ears. But you ignored all of it. Because slowing down wasn’t an option. Not here. Not now. You had sacrificed too much already to hesitate.
The car launched out of another corner as you shifted upward again, your vision narrowing entirely onto the straight ahead while the engine screamed loud enough to drown out almost every coherent thought left inside your head. Faster.
You needed to go faster. Even if your body broke down trying. Even if you’d feel like blood was going to run down your nose soon. Even if your lungs were screaming at you. Push yourself beyond your limits, you’d only receive this kind of opportunity once in your life, so don’t waste it. Eventually the 5 laps were up and the first race with the formula car ended, you exited the vehicle full of sweat in your hair and took off the head mask.
1:27.843
The numbers flashed across the telemetry monitor brightly enough that even through the exhaustion clouding your brain, you immediately understood one thing. That was fast. Very fast. The reactions around the garage alone confirmed it. Conversations between engineers suddenly quieted while one of the mechanics actually leaned closer toward the monitor like he expected the timing system to suddenly correct itself. Another engineer quickly rechecked the sector times while muttering something underneath his breath, his brows furrowing deeper the longer he stared at the data in front of him.
Meanwhile you were over here trying not to collapse. The moment the adrenaline began fading, your body punished you for every reckless decision you made during those five laps. Your neck burned horribly from fighting the G-forces while your forearms felt painfully heavy every time you flexed your fingers around the water bottle one of the mechanics shoved into your hands. Sweat clung against your skin underneath the fireproof suit despite the cold weather outside while your breathing still came out uneven beneath the aftermath of everything you just forced yourself through.
And somehow… Even through all that pain, all you could think about was wanting to drive again. Which probably meant there was genuinely something mentally wrong with you. A shaky laugh escaped your lips while you pushed damp strands of hair away from your face, your eyes briefly flickering back toward the Formula car still sitting beneath the fluorescent garage lights. The black carbon bodywork gleamed beneath the overhead lighting while mechanics already swarmed around it gathering telemetry and preparing post-run diagnostics.
There wasn’t even enough time for the adrenaline from the Formula 2 run to fully leave your body before Apex immediately pushed you toward the next evaluation. The moment you stepped out of the F2 car, the mechanics already practically swarmed around it with frightening efficiency while engineers rapidly exchanged telemetry data across glowing monitors. It almost felt like the garage itself never stopped moving. Nobody lingered around celebrating your lap time and nobody praised you openly either. Apex didn’t seem like the kind of place that cared about impressive moments unless you could repeatedly prove them.
No long break. No proper recovery. Not even enough time for your heartbeat to settle completely. One of the engineers approached carrying another setup tablet while Hayashi calmly informed you that the GT division had already finished preparing your next vehicle based on your Formula telemetry earlier. Apparently Apex believed in throwing people directly into suffering before their bodies fully recovered.
Honestly, at this point you were beginning to suspect this academy existed purely to psychologically and physically destroy young racers. The moment you entered the neighboring garage, the atmosphere shifted entirely from the clinical precision of the Formula division. The GT side felt heavier somehow. Louder. More aggressive. The smell of heated rubber and gasoline hung thicker in the air while mechanics moved around the vehicle with quick practiced movements beneath the fluorescent lighting.
And sitting in the center of it all was the GT car. Black carbon bodywork stretched low against the ground while silver aerodynamic detailing cut sharply across the frame. The Apex insignia rested boldly against the doors while several sponsor decals reflected faintly against the growing rain outside the paddock. Compared to the Formula car earlier, this machine looked less refined and more violent. Like it wanted to fishtail through corners out of pure aggression alone.
But what immediately caught your attention wasn’t the car. It was the weather. That atmosphere outside only made your heart race harder. And unlike earlier, the weather had started turning against you. Well, this would be a little bit more than just being a slight problem.
Rain tapped steadily against the garage roof now, soft at first but gradually growing heavier with every passing minute. Beyond the paddock, dark clouds swallowed most of the sky surrounding Mount Fuji while the once dry circuit now reflected streaks of light across the wet asphalt. The colder air brushed sharply against your damp skin, making the exhaustion sitting inside your muscles feel even heavier than before.
Honestly, the conditions were terrible. The kind of weather that made grip inconsistent and braking distances unpredictable. The kind that punished hesitation immediately while rewarding reckless confidence just enough to trick drivers into making dangerous mistakes. Yeah, if you were a noob or hadn’t had much experience in these conditions, then you’d pretty much be screwed. But at the same time, even if you were used to it, it didn’t mean you’d be good at driving with these conditions. It was far too unpredictable and dangerous.
The reduced grip and longer braking distances sure made the situation difficult. Standing water beginning to gather near certain sections of the track. This was the kind of weather that punished overconfidence immediately. Which probably explained why your smile widened slightly the moment you noticed the rain worsening. It was a very unhinged smile if you couldn’t tell. Think positive you kept telling yourself, yes, gaslighting yourself was the best decision you could do at the moment.
One of the engineers handed you the setup tablet while explaining the modifications they already made to the GT car based on your Formula telemetry earlier. They changed it up to have a more looser rear setup. More aggressive throttle response. They also slightly altered the weight distribution to make the chassis rotate easier through corners. Apex had practically tailored the car around the exact way you drove and honestly, that realization alone almost made your chest tighten from excitement. They were already adapting to you.
You weren't given much time to ponder though, just like earlier they quickly strapped you in and began the second race. And the GT race itself blurred together violently after that. The moment the tires touched the rain-soaked asphalt, the car fought you constantly beneath the steering wheel. Unlike the Formula car earlier, the GT machine carried heavier weight transfer through corners while the rear threatened to break loose every time you accelerated too aggressively exiting turns. Water sprayed violently behind the tires while the engine roared through the wet circuit loud enough to vibrate directly through your chest.
But instead of hesitating, your instincts sharpened. Years of underground racing through mountain roads during storms had permanently carved themselves into your body. Despite the disadvantages the rain brought, you refused to let that push you down. You’d use it to your advantage as much as you could if possible. The moment traction disappeared, your hands corrected automatically before your brain fully processed it. You performed some tiny steering adjustments and controlled the throttle feathering. Deliberate oversteer through corners while the chassis danced dangerously close to spinning beneath you.
And while you were having the time of your life, somewhere above the pit lane, Rin genuinely thought he was going to lose his mind. By now he wasn’t even pretending to relax or be nonchalant anymore. His one hand remained tightly wrapped around the railing while the other stayed shoved deep inside his jacket pocket, fingers gripping the omamori you gave him years ago so tightly the fabric pressed painfully against his palm. Every time the rear of your GT car slid slightly through another rain-soaked corner, his chest physically tightened hard enough to make breathing uncomfortable.
He hated how he loved how fearless you looked. Not because it annoyed him. But because it terrified him. Yes, again and again, we keep talking about how Rin’s terrified of losing you but at the same time he loves you too much to stop you from chasing after your dream. But Rin simply can’t help how he feels, he’s just a guy in love, so who were you to blame him? He literally just got you back just this morning and now you’re acting like you’re trying to send yourself 6 feet under. Who wouldn’t have a heart attack from that?
The GT evaluation ended almost as brutally as it began. By the time the car rolled back into pit lane, rainwater clung heavily across the black bodywork while steam faintly rose from the overheated tires. The moment you climbed out, your legs nearly buckled underneath you from exhaustion before one of the mechanics quickly steadied your shoulder.
Your body hurt. Actually hurt. Your arms trembled slightly while your breathing came out ragged against the cold air, damp hair sticking against your forehead while exhaustion settled heavily into your muscles. But before you could even properly recover, Apex immediately pushed you toward the final evaluation.
The motorcycle division. At that point, even you started questioning whether these people were actually human. Maybe if you still continued your harsh training from back then, you wouldn’t be as fatigued as you are right now, but no matter, what’s done is done. The only thing you could focus on was the present, the superbike waiting beneath the garage lights looked just as aggressive as everything else Apex owned. Black carbon fairings reflected the fluorescent lighting sharply while rainwater slid slowly across the bodywork in thin streams. The Apex insignia stretched boldly across the sides while mechanics performed final checks around the tires and suspension.
By now your body was beyond exhausted. Your arms trembled slightly every time you moved them while your neck still burned from the earlier Formula evaluation. But the moment your hands wrapped around the handlebars, something inside you sharpened again. Because slowing down now wasn’t an option anymore. Not when you’d already made it this far.
Meanwhile above the pit lane, Rin genuinely felt like he was losing years off his life every single lap. When you came out with the motorcycle without taking any breaks in between. At that point, Rin genuinely considered going downstairs and physically dragging you out of the garage himself and booking a taxi or something to get home because like Hell would he let you drive right after looking like you’re on the brink of death.
His eyes remained glued to the track below while one hand gripped tightly against the railing and the other stayed buried deep inside his jacket pocket, fingers wrapped firmly around the omamori you gave him years ago. The familiar fabric pressed tightly against his mouth now, half tempted to start chewing on it to keep him grounded against the anxiety twisting violently inside his chest every time your car slipped through another rain-soaked corner.
Rin held the omamori tighter and tighter until his palms started turning white, every single time the motorcycle leaned lower against another rain-soaked corner. His heartbeat hammered violently against his ribs while the engine echoed throughout Fuji Speedway underneath the pouring rain. Watching you drive the Formula car earlier already terrified him enough. The GT race nearly killed him from stress alone.
Because unlike cars, motorcycles gave you absolutely nothing. No cockpit surrounding your body. No harness keeping you secured. No carbon fiber shell protecting you from the asphalt if something went wrong. Just you, the machine beneath you, and the rain-covered circuit waiting to tear you apart if you made one mistake.
And somehow… You still looked excited despite everything. Despite that terrifying reality, despite the worsening weather conditions and the exhaustion slowly tearing your body apart, you still pushed harder every lap like you physically refused to let yourself fail.
But because watching you throw yourself toward danger so fearlessly made him realize just how little control he actually had over protecting you here. On a football field, Rin trusted himself completely. He trusted his body, his instincts, his ability to adapt faster than everyone around him. But standing here watching you race at horrifying speeds while rain poured harder across the circuit, he couldn’t do anything except watch helplessly and pray you didn’t crash.
The motorcycle evaluation ended up being the shortest out of all three divisions, but somehow it felt the most brutal physically. Every turn forced your body to move alongside the machine while rain sprayed violently behind the rear tire at terrifying speeds. Leaning into wet corners demanded complete trust between you and the bike beneath you because hesitation at those speeds didn’t simply cost lap time, it could completely destroy you. At those speeds there was no room for fear. Only instinct and movement.
The moment you got out though, you refused to collapse. You took off your helmet and the rain began to wet it thoroughly, and your already damp track suit began to cling onto your skin in an uncomfortable way. It’s been a while since you’ve experienced pushing yourself this hard, the G force put a strain on your body that even you didn’t expect to be affected by that much. Rin stood up from the viewing deck and made his way to you, preparing himself for what's to come when you looked like you were on the verge of collapsing at any moment.
A/n: NGL guys this chapter took so long because of the technicalities and I’m just an automatic girly so I had to raw dog and bullshit my way through this. But I’m finally done, so hopefully you enjoy this and pls ignore any inaccuracies
Taglist (Open): @x3nafix @p4rufeit
