Race 6 – Lonely Winner
Kaiyo turned his head slowly. Smoke poured from his vehicle. Something hissed, something sparked.
He unbuckled his harness, ready to jump—
BOOM!
The explosion tore across the track.
Flames. Thunder. Shards flying through the air.
Everything vanished in the smoke.
The stands froze.
Commentator: "MEDICS ON THE TRACK! I REPEAT — MEDICS ON THE TRACK!"
The wreckage burned.
Darkness. Silence.
Screams erupted in the crowd as rescuers stormed the track, weaving through fire.
One reached the wreck and, with great effort, dragged Kaiyo out, wiping soot from his face and checking his breath.
Kaiyo coughed violently, lungs clawing for air.
The medic — a gorilla with calm, sharp eyes — gripped his shoulder, shaking firmly yet carefully.
Medic: "Macaque! Macaque! Stay with me!"
Kaiyo's eyes flickered open. His whole back burned with pain, but worse was the right side of his neck — from just above the chest to beneath the jaw. His fingers brushed something hard and cold. He jerked his hand back— pain seared him.
A shard of metal. Lodged deep in his neck. A jagged piece of his own machine.
Every breath, every twitch of his neck screamed how close he was to death.
Medic (low voice): "That's a piece of your car. We'll have to take it out carefully— before it kills you."
Kaiyo clenched his teeth, forcing his breath steady.
The gorilla medic secured the wound around the shard, eyes steady.
Medic: "Hold on, Macaque. I need to pull this free. It's going to hurt like hell."
Kaiyo shut his eyes tight. The shard slid. The pain roared. He screamed — a raw, animal cry, ripping from his throat and jaw.
Tsuki, standing nearby, clutched his head, horrified and helpless, forced to watch.
The shard came free at last. The medic pressed gauze to the wound, stanching the blood.
Medic: "Good. You're still here. We'll get you to Apepolis hospital now. The scar will stay forever… but you're alive."
The stands were silent. Only scattered coughs, whispered prayers.
What was meant to be a spectacle of speed had twisted into tragedy.
Commentator (voice trembling): "That wasn't just a malfunction… Something was done to Kaiyo's machine. Sabotage? It doesn't happen by chance…"
Ayatsuri crossed the line first, raising his hand in triumph.
But no one cheered.
All eyes followed the ambulance carrying Kaiyo and Tsuki.
Victory meant nothing.
Ayatsuri's throat tightened. His smile faltered.
He stood motionless, staring at the smoke still hanging over the track.
Sorrow boiled into anger. Not at himself.
At Kaiyo.
Jesutā (under his breath): "Why… why did you have to ruin everything…?"
He stood alone, trapped in emptiness no victory could fill.
His shoulders shook. He inhaled, held— and laughed.
Not the laugh of a champion.
A hoarse, hollow, broken laugh.
He bent forward, clutching his mouth with trembling fingers, but the sound tore through anyway.
Jesutā (muttering): "Kaiyo… Kaiyo… you really had to do this, didn't you?"
He straightened slowly. Spread his arms.
Palms up, fingers wide, arms thrown back, chest lifted, head tilted.
A pose as if embracing the whole world — yet filled only with rage and grief.
Jesutā:
"I WON… I WON!" he roared, arms stretched toward the empty crowd. "So why isn't anyone watching!?"
His voice faded. His arms lowered.
And he turned away.
The lonely winner, unseen by the world that had never looked his way.
Hospital
Kaiyo lay on the bed. Fur and skin burned along his right neck — where the shard had pierced him — across his chest, shoulder, and left hand. His fur was charred, his skin red, swollen, blistered.
Tsuki sat at his side, restless, scratching at his head, eyes fixed on his friend.
Kaiyo stirred, eyes heavy. His voice was weak:
Kaiyo: "…What happened…?"
Tsuki: "You're safe, Kaiyo. It's over now."
The doctor — an orangutan — approached, checking vitals, voice calm.
Doctor: "The wound was deep and dangerous. That shard could've destroyed everything inside. But we managed to remove it carefully."
He nodded, explaining further:
"The burns cover about forty percent of your body — mostly the arms, chest, and back. Serious, but not hopeless. Recovery will take weeks. Full healing, months. We'll have to guard against infection."
Kaiyo's eyes shone. Not with relief. With fire. With frustration.
Kaiyo's thoughts: "Months? I can't stay here for months. Racing is all I am. Waiting is prison. I have to get back to the track, the speed, the fight… It's in my blood. My nature."
His jaw clenched. Muscles taut. His body begged for rest, but his spirit howled for the wind.
Tsuki whispered, almost in disbelief:
Tsuki: "…Months without racing…?
For a macaque whose soul burned for the fight — it was worse than punishment.
Workshop – Late Night
Tsuki sat alone on a metal stool. Around him — scattered tools, broken parts, blueprints. The smell of oil and burnt rubber lingered in the air.
In his hand — a twisted fragment of Kaiyo's engine.
He whispered to himself: "I won't quit."
Memories flashed — Kaiyo bent over the engine, confident:
Kaiyo (memory): "We mount this module here. Better grip. Faster response."
Tsuki's lips curled in a faint smile.
Tsuki (memory): "Exactly what we need to win."
Kaiyo grinned, holding a wrench.
Kaiyo (memory): "Together, we can do anything."
—A knock at the workshop door broke the silence.