#taktober

[melon-bunbuns]

30

[guruneko]

Taktober week 1

I had something else planned for this week but i couldn't stop thinking about old man Takumi

I might post another thing for this week because i can't with this show.

can you imagine being Takumi and having to see this from time to time

[marferino-fd]

The them <3

[thefujiwarazone]

Taktober 3: Memory

Prompt: Memories

"Snow is great to practice drifting on."

Takumi's heard enough. He tears his gaze away from his friends and focuses on something unimportant in the middle distance, like a sign half-obscured by the buildings across the street. Cold wind slices through his work uniform and chills his skin. He rubs his hands together, wishing he had brought gloves.

When he was little-- or well, younger-- he wore gloves in the early hours, tasked as he was with driving at -4 Celsius with no sun. The mittens had been thick and wooly and served their purpose up until the cabin heated up, and even then, he shivered in his seat all the way up to the hotel at the top of the mountain. Old snow still crusted corners of the parking lot, but not enough to disturb.

At times, he'd helped unload the tofu, if only to stretch his legs and to check his handiwork. Occasionally, the heavy clouds above would start to spit snow, frosting the tip of his nose and dusting his hair. Those were the days he didn't help. The sooner he got home the better, in those cases.

The car already slipped naturally. He felt as if he was walking a tightrope, wrenching back on muscle memory to make sure he didn't overcorrect, to make sure that he didn't forget that the mountain wasn't high and dry. He felt simultaneously alert and unfocused, eyes wide shut to a windshield whited out with fat snowflakes. Stopping never occurred to him-- why would he?

Still, it was as close to running a mountain pass downhill with no brakes as one could get. Is that what people wanted? Control of the car could be lost so easily. He blows his own hot breath into his cupped palms. His friends are still talking, but the conversation's changed.

(But he was still seeing that windshield, wipers furiously batting at the snowfall while he worked the clutch and coaxed the engine into carrying the car on and nudged the whole body into behaving as it needed to. It felt like a fight, it felt like he was losing control, and maybe he was, but if he could just get the car to skip as opposed to skid--)

"Takumi! What are you thinking about over there?"

(The car spun out in a spray of snow and headlight flashes.)

(His arms shook and his core ached and he definitely did not cry between the folds of roaring wind and growling engine.)

"Huh?" Takumi grunts, blinking slowly. "What do you need, Itsuki?"

He levels his gaze back onto his friends, who are looking at him with that familiar mixture of fond-exasperation-confusion-concern.

"I was wanting to ask-- do you like driving in bad weather?"

Ah.

(His father hadn't said anything when he got home that morning.)

"Not really. Rain is alright, but I prefer dry ground," Takumi says quietly.

That seems to satisfy them until Itsuki erupts with something else, five minutes later.

[melon-bunbuns]

Day 26

[melon-bunbuns]

Day 16!💤

[melon-bunbuns]

Day 19! 💙❗️

[melon-bunbuns]

Day 8!🚗💨