The sun had barely risen over Suginami City when Haruka's workshop rolled open with a heavy metallic rattle. The air still held that faint early-morning chill, mixed with the dusty smell of a garage that had been left untouched for the entire weekend. Izamuri, hoodie sleeves already rolled up, flicked on the main lights. One by one the fluorescent panels hummed awake, revealing a familiar landscape of tools, jack stands, empty coffee cans, and small debris left from the frantic days before the race.
"Alright," Haruka clapped his hands once, loud enough to echo across the concrete, "no time to waste. We're restoring this place to civilization."
Everyone groaned at the same time, a chorus that Haruka pretended not to hear.
Izamuri grabbed the long-handled mop leaning against the wall. "Rin, bucket," he ordered with mock authority. Rin saluted sarcastically, filled the bucket with steaming water and detergent, and together they started pushing their way down the center aisle of the workshop.
The grime peeled up instantly. Black streaks of tire dust, dried mud, and the faint red-brown tint of brake dust from the EK9.
"Dude, how did it get this bad in just three days?" Rin muttered.
"Race weekend," Izamuri said simply. "It's like a natural disaster but with more screaming."
Across the shop, the Kaira twins were locked in a battle of their own. With rubber gloves up to their elbows, they scrubbed the bathroom tiles aggressively, Hojo spraying disinfectant like he was baptizing the place while Tojo brushed at the sink with enough force to exorcise demons.
"This bathroom smells like someone boiled old socks in here," Hojo gagged.
"That was probably you," Tojo answered.
"Shut up."
They kept scrubbing.
Takamori, meanwhile, stood over the main tool chest like a man performing an autopsy.
He clicked each drawer open, checking torque wrenches, calipers, sockets, counting every piece with the precision of someone who had rebuilt an engine in the dark more than once.
"Who used my 10mm?" he murmured dramatically.
Rin, from across the room, called out without looking up, "Ghosts."
Takamori closed the drawer slowly, eyes narrowing. "If the ghosts used it, they're paying for it."
Out in the side lot, the morning sun reflected off soap bubbles as Ayaka and Hana washed down the EK9. The car still wore the subtle scars of Izamuri's debut. Streaks of mud along the side skirts, grime trapped around the door hinges, rubber marks near the rear bumper from the slipstream battles.
Ayaka dragged a sponge over the roof. "Hard to believe this thing survived all that chaos yesterday."
Hana nodded. "Considering Mike rammed him twice? Honestly, I'm impressed this car isn't in two pieces."
"It's a Honda," Ayaka shrugged. "It'll only die if you try to kill it on purpose."
Inside the office upstairs, a different kind of battle was taking place.
Haruka held the instruction sheet of the new trophy cabinet like he was decoding ancient hieroglyphics.
Nikolai leaned over his shoulder, frowning. "This is not English. This is pain."
"It's easy," Simon said confidently, holding a wooden panel. "You just fit this into that, and then attach… that other piece."
Walter crossed his arms. "Simon, that is literally the least helpful explanation I have ever heard."
Simon ignored him.
On the floor beside them, Daichi rummaged through a cardboard box, tossing aside foam packaging with increasing frustration.
"Where are the screws?!" he muttered. "They didn't ship them? How do you expect us to assemble anything without—"
Walter, who earlier had quietly taped the missing screw packet on Daichi's back as a joke, was now trying so hard not to laugh that his shoulders were shaking.
Nikolai noticed first. His eyes widened. "Daichi… don't move."
Daichi froze. "What? Did a spider crawl on me? Tell me it's not a spider."
"No, no," Nikolai said, trying not to grin. "Just turn around."
Daichi rotated stiffly. The screw packet, clearly labeled Assembly Hardware, dangled from the tape stuck right between his shoulder blades.
Walter gave up and burst into laughter.
Haruka put a hand over his face. "Walter… seriously?"
"It was funny!" Walter gasped. "And educational! He now knows screws can be found… in unexpected places."
Daichi peeled the packet off and sighed. "I'm surrounded by grown up children."
"Yet you still choose to stay," Simon replied while fitting two wooden pieces together — upside down.
"Simon," Haruka said, peering at the cabinet frame, "that panel is backward."
"...No it's not."
"It very much is."
"...I meant to do that."
Haruka exhaled deeply.
Back downstairs, Izamuri and Rin had finished their first pass with the mop. Izamuri wrung out the mop head and dipped it again.
"Rin," he asked, "what do you think they're doing upstairs?"
Rin listened for a moment. From above came the unmistakable sounds of arguing, wood dropping, Walter laughing, and someone, probably Simon, swearing in English with a thick british accent.
Rin shrugged. "Either assembling furniture or summoning a demon."
Izamuri nodded. "Sounds about right."
The workshop slowly began looking like an actual functioning garage again. Floor drying in streaks. Tools aligned. The air smelling more of lemon detergent than burnt rubber. The twins finally staggered out of the bathroom like war survivors.
"Bathroom is clean," Hojo declared.
"Bathroom is holy," Tojo corrected, wiping sweat off his brow. "I think I saw god halfway through scrubbing that sink."
Takamori clapped them on the shoulders. "Good. That bathroom was a biohazard."
Ayaka and Hana returned inside, hands still damp, reporting, "Car's washed."
Rin raised a brow. "Is it alive?"
Ayaka deadpanned, "Barely."
Finally, after nearly two hours, Haruka descended from the office with the other adults trailing behind him. They carried the partly assembled trophy cabinet, victorious but visibly traumatized.
"We did it," Haruka announced, setting it down carefully.
"Barely," Walter replied.
Simon dusted off his hands. "That's a whole lot for Ikea furniture."
Daichi held up the packet of screws. "And next time, someone else keeps track of these."
Izamuri grinned. "Good morning workout though."
Haruka stretched his arms, surveying the sparkling-clean workshop with satisfaction. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
Everyone looked tired, sweaty, and mildly irritated, but the workshop was spotless, the EK9 gleaming, the tools organized, and the new trophy cabinet ready for a future they were suddenly eager for.
"Alright," Haruka said finally, checking the time, "break time before the customers came in."
The crew nodded and fanned out, each taking a breath of the clean air, each feeling something familiar and comforting settle over them, the feeling of a team getting ready for whatever came next.
With the workshop now spotless and smelling faintly of detergent and fresh metal, the team rolled the EK9 back inside. Its white paint shimmered from the wash Ayaka and Hana had given it, though traces of rubber marks still clung to the lower rear quarters like battle scars. The crew guided it carefully toward the back storage area. The small section Haruka called the "race bay," reserved for track cars and long-term projects.
"Alright. Let's bring the EK9 back inside."
Ayaka and Hana guided the car gently as Izamuri pushed from behind, the tires squeaking softly on the clean concrete. The race-worn EK9 had been washed, but the subtle evidence of battle still clung to it. Faint scratches, tiny bits of peeled rubber, and the smell of cooked brakes lingering like a badge of honor.
When the EK9 finally settled into its spot, they draped a soft cotton cover over it. The Honda disappeared beneath the fabric, leaving the faint outline of a hatchback. Resting, waiting for the next time it would be unleashed.
And for the first time since yesterday's chaos, the workshop felt… normal again.
Moments later, the doorbell chimed. A soft electronic ding ding.
Haruka, halfway up the stairs to the office, called down, "First customer of the day! Rin, Takamori. handle it!"
"Got it!" Rin jogged toward the front while Takamori adjusted his gloves and followed behind.
The customer, a middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap, greeted them with a slight bow before explaining his issue. Something about a strange rattle from the rear brakes. Rin ushered him to the waiting area while Takamori popped the trunk and began the familiar inspection process.
While they worked, the rest of the younger crew… absolutely did not.
Izamuri plopped onto the old, battered couch and stretched out until he occupied half of it. "We deserve a break," he said, eyes already closing.
Hojo sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling on his phone. "I'm still tired from cleaning the bathroom."
Tojo shuddered. "Same. I can still smell the bleach in my brain."
Ayaka sat on a stool polishing her nails while Hana leaned against the wall beside her, sipping canned iced coffee she stole from the fridge.
They looked like a pack of stray cats basking in the sun, except they were indoors, and instead of sun, it was fluorescent lighting that buzzed slightly.
Upstairs, the atmosphere was completely different.
The second-floor office, with its large windows overlooking the workshop, felt somehow quieter despite the occasional impact wrench from below. Haruka, Simon, Walter, and Nikolai sat around their improvised meeting table, a large wooden desk stacked with folders, a laptop, and an unopened pack of instant ramen someone had forgotten.
Daichi stood near the cabinet they built earlier, leaning against it casually, though his expression was more serious than usual.
Haruka sensed the change immediately. "You look like you've got something on your mind, old man."
Daichi chuckled softly. "It's not… bad, exactly. But it's something important. Something I should've told you all earlier."
Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "You're not quitting, are you?"
"Please don't," Simon said.
Walter leaned forward, lifting his glasses slightly. "If this is about the screws, I promise I won't tape anything to your back again."
Daichi smirked. "No, it's not about the screws. Though I'm still getting you back for that."
Everyone relaxed a bit, until Daichi's tone shifted.
"It's about Hugo."
Haruka sat up straight instantly. "Hugo… as in "Hugo Speed" Hugo?"
Daichi nodded.
Simon frowned. "What about him?"
"He made me an offer," Daichi began. "Back on Friday. During free practice."
Haruka blinked, confused. "An offer? What kind of offer?"
Daichi inhaled slowly, then dropped the sentence that made the room freeze.
"He wants to merge his team with ours."
Silence. Total, stunned silence. Even the faint sound of drilling downstairs seemed to pause.
Walter's mouth fell open. "Wait… merge? As in—?"
"Combine G-Force with Hugo Speed?" Nikolai finished, voice cracking slightly.
Simon stared at Daichi like the man had just spoken in ancient Latin. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
Haruka, meanwhile, had gone entirely still. His expression froze between shock, confusion, and the faint spark of something unreadable.
Daichi continued, "He wants us to join forces. Share resources, infrastructure… maybe even race under a unified banner."
Haruka leaned back in his chair, eyes widening slightly as the weight of the revelation settled in.
"What," he said softly, "the hell…"
Daichi nodded once.
"That," he confirmed, "is the offer Hugo gave me."
Haruka didn't blink for a long moment. His mind was moving, gears spinning faster than any engine in his garage. When he finally found his voice, it came out quieter than usual. Controlled, serious.
"…Why?" he asked. "Why would he want to do that? Why merge his team with ours?"
Daichi lowered himself into the old office chair opposite them, elbows resting on his knees. He wasn't smiling anymore. This wasn't a joke, and the weight of Hugo's offer finally settled over the room like a heavy fog.
"That," Daichi said, "was the first thing I asked him."
Nikolai crossed his arms. "So? What was his answer?"
Daichi exhaled, leaning back slightly. "He told me he's retiring at the end of this season."
Everyone froze again.
"Retiring?" Simon echoed. "As in… really retiring? No more races?"
"Yep," Daichi replied, voice steady. "Fully stepping away. By December, Hugo's done."
Walter frowned. "But he's still young… I mean if you ask me, 38 is still young for a racer. But why now?"
Daichi shook his head. "It's not about age. It's about necessity. His company's expanding… Fast. He said his business is demanding more and more of his time. Meetings, international branches, investors, logistics… the whole thing's growing like wildfire, and he can't divide himself between corporate operations and running a racing team anymore."
Haruka leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Makes sense. Being a team owner is already hard. Being a racing driver on top of that? Impossible."
"Exactly," Daichi said. "And before you ask, no, he's not quitting because he's lost interest. Hugo's a builder. Always has been. He loves racing, but he loves building teams even more. Structuring them. Designing them. Helping them grow."
Walter nodded slowly. "He's always been more of a strategist than a hotshot racer."
"Right," Daichi continued. "He's good at racing, sure. But he's not like Izamuri… or Hugo's younger drivers. Not like the new generation. His passion isn't driving the car, it's helping build the one that wins."
Simon sat forward. "So what does that have to do with us?"
Daichi's eyes lowered to the workshop window, where Izamuri was now poking a broom at Tojo for absolutely no reason.
"Hugo said he didn't just see talent in the car yesterday," Daichi said. "He saw something else. Something he's only seen a few times in his whole career."
Haruka raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"
"A spark," Daichi said quietly. "The same spark you told me about when you first brought Izamuri to the workshop. The spark I saw yesterday when he fought through the pack like he'd been doing it his whole life. The spark I saw in Karting kids that became champions. The spark he used to see in himself, before business swallowed his time."
The room stayed silent.
Daichi added, "And Hugo told me… he hasn't seen that spark in a long time. Not since the days his team ran in Super Formula and BTCC."
Simon looked out the window too, his eyes softening. "So he sees potential in Izamuri."
"Potential," Daichi said, "and future."
Haruka tilted his head. "And the merge is… for that future?"
"Partly," Daichi nodded. "But there's another reason."
They all leaned in.
"Hugo doesn't want his team to die when he retires."
Nikolai's expression darkened in understanding. "Ah… corporate takeover."
Daichi nodded. "Exactly. If Hugo steps down, the team falls into the hands of his board and businessmen who don't know the soul of racing. Hugo built his racing division with his own hands. But the moment he leaves? They'll strip it for assets, swallow it into corporate structure, maybe even sell off everything he built."
Walter clenched his jaw. "That's… harsh."
Daichi continued. "Hugo said that's the same as killing his dreams. He refuses to let his team be eaten alive by people who see racing as profit margins instead of passion."
Haruka's voice grew quieter. "So… he's looking for someone to inherit what he built."
"Yes," Daichi confirmed. "And not just anyone. Someone with experience. Someone who's been through everything. The highs, the lows, the disasters, the politics. Someone who can guide a team not just as a manager, but as a racer."
Haruka stared at him. "And he chose you."
Daichi nodded.
"Why?" Walter asked gently.
Daichi didn't smile. Instead, he spoke with the calm certainty of someone who had lived through decades of battles.
"He said… I'm the only one he knows who's seen it all."
Simon blinked. "Meaning?"
"I've raced in Japan, Europe, Indonesia, Germany. I've been a factory driver, a privateer, a champion, and a nobody. I've been in Group N, Formula Nippon, Super GT, DTM. I've won, I've lost. I've been praised and I've been nearly killed."
The room listened in complete silence.
"And more importantly," Daichi said softly, "I've seen teams rise and fall. I know how to keep them alive. I know how to take care of drivers. I know how to spot talent. I know when a young driver has something real… something worth protecting."
He glanced out the window again, at Izamuri, now laughing with Ayaka over some dumb argument involving a mop, a bucket, and Tojo yelling in the background.
"And Hugo knows I would never let a team built on passion die. Not ever."
Haruka slowly exhaled. "So that's why he chose you…"
Daichi nodded.
"It's not just about racing. It's about preserving something meaningful. Something he spent half his life building."
Simon whispered, "And he trusts you to carry that flame."
Daichi looked at each of them. Walter, Nikolai, Simon, Haruka.
"Yes," he said. "He trusts me. And he trusts us."
Haruka stood up fully, placing his hands on the desk. "Well…" he breathed. "That's one hell of an offer."
Daichi nodded once. "And now," he said, "we all need to decide what to do about it."
Haruka stood there for a moment, absorbing everything. His fingers drummed lightly on the wooden desk, his eyes focused but calm. The look he wore only when he was planning something big.
"…We're not deciding this in a rush," he finally said.
Daichi nodded. "Didn't expect you to."
Haruka exhaled through his nose. "I want to talk with him. All of us should, but I want a one-on-one with him too. If we're even thinking of merging teams, I want to look him in the eye and hear it straight from him. No secrets. No hidden clauses. No surprises."
Nikolai smirked. "Good. Better to negotiate when you know the other person's heartbeat."
Simon raised a brow. "That sounded like something from a Russian corporate drama."
"It's true," Nikolai shrugged.
Daichi took out his phone. "Alright. I'll call Hugo now."
They all watched as Daichi stepped to the far corner of the office. He dialed quickly and Hugo picked up almost immediately.
"Yo, Dragon," Hugo's voice echoed faintly. Even from this distance they could hear the bright tone. "What's up?"
"Haruka wants a direct meeting," Daichi said. "With you. One-on-one, but the team will be present too."
There was a short pause, then Hugo laughed. "Finally! I was wondering when you guys were gonna call back. Name the time."
"Wednesday afternoon," Daichi replied. "3 PM."
"Done," Hugo said without hesitation. "I'll bring the documents, the team structure drafts, the financial sheets, everything. And I'll clear the whole day if we need it. Tell Haruka I'm looking forward to it."
"I will," Daichi replied. "See you Wednesday."
"See you, old man."
The call ended.
Daichi walked back toward the others, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket. "He agreed," Daichi said. "Wednesday. 3 in the afternoon."
Haruka nodded slowly, his mind already moving several steps ahead. "Good. That gives us time to prepare."
Walter let out a low whistle. "You know… Wednesday's going to be a big day."
Nikolai leaned back in his chair. "Life-changing, maybe."
Haruka ignored the exaggeration, though deep down he suspected it might be true. A merger with Hugo wasn't some small partnership or sponsorship. Hugo Speed was a multi-national outfit with decades of legacy, cutting-edge equipment, and global-level connections. If they agreed to it, G-Force wouldn't just be a small garage team anymore.
They would become something bigger. Something with real weight.
Haruka looked toward the small window overlooking the workshop. Izamuri and Rin were now racing to see who could mop the fastest while Hojo and Tojo yelled at them to stop making more work. Ayaka was filming the chaos. Hana was shouting at all of them. It looked like a circus.
His circus.
His people.
"Alright," Haruka said. "Next question."
He turned back to Daichi, arms crossed.
"If we do merge… what about the name?"
The question immediately drew all eyes to Daichi.
Simon leaned forward. "Yeah, that's an important one. Do we stay G-Force? Change to Hugo Speed? Or… combine?"
Walter rubbed the back of his neck. "Hugo Speed G-Force… G-Force Hugo… hmm… sounds weird."
Nikolai snorted. "Please not Hugo Force… sounds like a children's cartoon."
Haruka sighed. "We're not naming anything yet. I'm asking because… identity matters."
Daichi nodded, fully agreeing. "Hugo actually mentioned that," Daichi said. "He said the name is up to us. Completely."
Haruka blinked. "He said that?"
"Yes," Daichi replied. "He told me he doesn't want us to lose what makes this team our team. If he merges with us, he doesn't expect us to throw away our identity. Whether we keep the name, change it, or merge it… it's our decision."
Simon raised a brow. "That's surprisingly humble."
Daichi shrugged. "That's Hugo. He cares about legacy, not labels."
Haruka sank into his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So," he said, "in the end… the name will be decided by all of us?"
Daichi nodded. "Every single person in this garage."
Nikolai whistled. "Democratic racing team. Interesting."
Walter chuckled. "Well, better than being forced under some corporation's brand."
Haruka didn't smile, but there was relief in his eyes.
"Good," he said. "That's how it should be."
Daichi leaned on the desk, his tone softer. "Haruka… he respects you. That's why he's giving you a vote. A real vote."
Haruka blinked at that, genuinely surprised.
"He… respects me?"
Daichi smirked. "Of course. He sees what you built here. A family. A place where talent grows. He sees how you took in kids who had no direction and gave them purpose."
Haruka looked down, quietly humbled.
"Truth is," Daichi added, "Hugo doesn't want to erase G-Force. He wants to protect it. Merge with it. Strengthen it. He wants two legacies to survive, not one to replace the other."
Nikolai leaned back with a grin. "That actually sounds… noble."
Walter nodded. "It's rare in motorsports."
Simon's tone softened as well. "Maybe Hugo's the real deal."
Haruka let out a long breath, part relief, part anticipation.
"Good," Haruka finally said. "Then Wednesday we'll talk to him properly. Ask everything. Clarify everything."
He stood up fully, determination in his posture.
"And whatever happens… it'll be a decision we make together."
Everyone nodded.
Daichi looked around the small office, at the old mismatched desks, the half-assembled trophy cabinet, the dusty windows, and the floorboards that creaked with every step.
This place wasn't perfect. But it was theirs. And Hugo wanted to help them keep it alive.
"Alright," Daichi said. "Let's clean up and get back to work."
Haruka gave a final nod and headed downstairs.
Their future was still uncertain. But for the first time… it felt like they had real control over it.