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Breaking News: Oikawa Tooru signs a lucrative deal with Toro Rosso.
The Japanese-born driver was scouted by Alfa Romeo-Sauber at the age of 18, acting as Jose Blanco’s reserve driver in 2017, and replacing him for the rest of the season after the Argentinie driver sprained his ankle during the Hungarian Grand Prix. Oikawa then earned a permanent spot on the team in the following season. Having been mentored by Blanco himself, Oikawa has proven to be a highly skilled driver, having won the F2 championship in his rookie year.
After only 2 seasons with Alfa Romeo, Oikawa has decided to move to Scuderia Toro Rosso for the 2019 season. He is joined by 17 year old Kageyama Tobio, grandson of ex-Williams Racing driver Kageyama Kazuyo and Prince of the Paddock”, making them the youngest driver pairing on the circuit.
“We’re lucky to have them,” says Toro Rosso Team Vice Principal Oliver Duncan. “They’re obviously such young and talented drivers and we look forward to seeing how they can perform in this coming season.”
Kageyama, who was a crucial part of Williams’ growth, retired when…
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Abu Dhabi, December 2018
Oikawa frowns between sips of his drink. “Tobio? As in F4 prodigy Tobio?”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi skims through the article. “Golden child of the Honda Formula Dream Project. F4 prodigy, F3 Champion in his rookie year and now he’s here.”
The brunette clicks his teeth. He jumped from F3 to F1? What a troublesome teammate to have. “Doesn’t matter. Golden child or not, he’s about to eat dust because that Redbull seat is mine.”
Iwaizumi snorts. “Counting your eggs before they hatch, Shittykawa? I knew you were arrogant but bragging about beating a barely legal kid that you’ve never met? That takes the cake.”
“Hey!”
The spiky haired man tilts his head slightly as he looks at the screen. “He looks… really familiar, though.”
“Really?”
Ok, now he’s curious.
But before he gets a look at the article, the engineers call out to him.
“Tooru, we’re ready for you.”
The brunette sighs. “That’s my cue.”
He pulls his helmet on and slips into the car, strapped in and ready to go. They hand him his steering wheel, remove all the wires and wait for the signal. The car purrs beneath him and as he waits for traffic to clear, he can hear the other cars begin to head out as they get ready for the formation lap.
He relishes the adrenaline slowly flooding in his veins and takes a deep breath.
Someone knocks on the top of his helmet and Oikawa looks up at the offender in annoyance.
Iwaizumi gives him a nod, offering his fist. He can’t hear what the other is saying with the earplugs in but he knows exactly what his childhood best friend slash trainer slash manager is saying. “Let’s win this thing.”
The brunette nods and bumps his fist. “Let’s do this.”
And with that, the final race of the 2018 Grand Prix begins.
Barcelona, February 2019: Pre-Season Testing
Oikawa didn't meet his new teammate until it was time for pre-season testing. It wasn’t really a conscious decision. Despite taking some only courses on it, he doesn’t know enough engineering to contribute anything constructive to the conversation so there wasn’t much point in dropping in for the design sessions. Red Bull doesn’t even produce its own engines.
He doesn’t live with the other drivers in Monaco either, choosing to spend the off season in Spain with Blanco’s family and pouring over old data with Iwaizumi.
He tries to provide as much constructive criticism as he can during his sessions on the simulator, but until he is sitting in the actual car, there’s no way for him to confidently see how it performs. He doesn’t even stick around the factory in Milton Keynes longer than necessary. The Greater Manchester rain never did his mood any good.
So no. He doesn’t know what his teammate looks like. In his defense, the team didn’t really offer to introduce them either.
Instead he meets the younger driver as he walks towards the testing area and it’s easy to see why the media calls him the Prince of the Paddock. He’s a pretty young thing, almost regal in his posture and he walks with a certain air of cool superiority and Oikawa doesn’t really know what to make of it.
The younger stiffens as he meets Oikawa’s gaze before nodding in greeting.
“Good morning, Tooru, how was your break,” the staff member accompanying him asks.
“Break? What break?” Oikawa laughs. “We’ve been so busy with the move we barely had time to rest.”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Says the guy who spent most of his time at the beach.”
“Iwa-chan, how could you? It was a part of my winter training.”
“If you say so.”
The brunette then turns his attention to the ravenette who has been quiet until now.
“And you?”
The younger looks up, surprised he has been addressed and the first thought Oikawa had was how blue his eyes are, a dark blue that reminds him of the clear waters in the caves he dove in. Not as cold as he previously thought.
The second thought was that Iwaizumi was right. He did look familiar.
The staff member snaps her fingers as she remembers. “Right! You haven’t been formally introduced. Tooru, this is Tobio. He will be your teammate for the season.”
“Nice to meet you,” the ravenette switches to Japanese and gives him a nod in lieu of a handshake.
Oikawa tilts his head and doesn’t return the greeting, narrowing his eyes instead. “Have we met?”
The younger nods slowly. “Sportsland Sugo circuit in Miyagi. I used to train there as a kid.”
“Ahhh.”
So they used to train at the same track back when they were in go-karts. It’s not often he meets drivers from a small town like his, especially considering how expensive the sport is.
“Small world,” he says to the confused staff member who simply laughs out of politeness.
He takes a peak at the younger driver from the corner of his eye as the communication staff begins debriefing them about the pre-season testing schedule. In a sport where 10 teams get 2 drivers, this is the only person he will truly be measured up against. His only teammate and his greatest rival on the grid. And despite the two of them being close in age, Oikawa is under no illusion they will be friends.
Pre-season testing lasts a grueling 8 days and every single second counts. During that time, Oikawa has learned a few things about his teammate.
1. He is quite reserved, giving very minimal feedback to the engineers and threadbare answers to the media.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
Considering how little time he spent under the public eye, being stingy with your words might actually benefit him. It gives him an air of mystery and stops the media from coming up with any outrageous headlines. For now. At least until he has had some PR training.
2. He has very expressive eyes.
Big almond eyes, framed by long dark lashes.
When he’s not glaring at the data or scowling at the milk options at the hospitality suite, his eyes do the talking for him, widening when he is surprised, narrowing when he is skeptical, or blinking rapidly when he is confused.
He also seems a bit child-like, following Oikawa around the paddocks and asking him a slew of questions. He doesn’t answer honestly, of course. Nothing that would give the younger a winning advantage. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention, but a rival is still a rival. It usually goes something like…
“Oikawa-san. Can you help me look over my data? I’m not sure-”
“No~ no way! Go do it yourself.”
He blows a raspberry at the younger driver for added effect.
It was the kind of thing that made Iwaizumi click his teeth and slap the brunette on the back of the head.
“Shittykawa,” his trainer would grumble as he ruffles his Kageyama’s hair and helps him with the data himself. Because genius or not, the kid had never driven an F1 car and he needs all the help he could get.
3. The boy is a really skilled driver.
That much was to be expected. They didn’t call him the F4 Prodigy for nothing. That boy can drive pretty much any motorised vehicle as long as it has enough wheels on, which is probably why he provides so little feedback to begin with. Until he sees how the car performs against other cars, he is perfectly content driving a tractor with its front wing missing.
Great for the strategists, not great for the engineers. The only thing team management complains about, is that semi-permanent frown on his face. It scares the press a little and intimidates the sponsors even more.
Oikawa snorts as he watches the ravenette give the reporters one word answers and the occasional shrug. It is a sharp contrast to the media darling persona Oikawa had cultivated himself to be but Toro Rosso didn’t bring them on to be marketable, they brought them on because they were fast.
Melbourne, March 2019 : Race 1 of 21
The first race of the season starts in Australia, in a hemisphere that celebrates Christmas in the summer. It’s quite different from the weather in Japan or Spain but it’s a blessing to get away from the European weather and it gets Oikawa into a good mood.
He walks up to the barriers to mingle around the press and gauges what the media is interested in at the moment. What contracts are being negotiated? Who is beefing with who? Which team principal is under fire? What is the FIA up to? You’d be surprised how much you can learn from hearing the questions they ask.
“Oikawa! As someone who came from a humble background, how does it feel to have someone like Kageyama on your team who had all the resources and training facilities at his disposal?”
Case and point.
The brunette holds back a scoff. “Was that a real question?”
He knew he wasn’t as rich as the other kids on the track but he wasn’t exactly poor. Especially considering how expensive the sport was. He doesn’t know why the media insists on portraying him as some underprivileged underdog when he lived in a perfectly good home and went to a private school back when he lived in Japan. And he knew the media liked to stir trouble between drivers but this one is a bit too on the nose.
“As much as I’d like to give you a good headline and a scandalous soundbite, the reality is, most drivers are less than 3 degrees of separation from someone in the sport. Whether it’s their parent, godparent, uncle, cousin. It’s a small circle. I, myself, am grateful Jose decided to train me since I was a kid. It doesn't erase the fact that we’ve all worked our entire lives for this moment and the results speak will for themselves. If Tobio is fast, great. If he’s not, he’s out. Simple as that.”
“What about Ushijima? Do you think you have a chance at beating him this season?”
“There’s always a chance,” he says confidently. “There’s 20 of us on that track and having a fast car doesn’t guarantee you a win so yes. There is a chance. Everyone has a chance.”
The driver plays a large role in the team’s performance, yes, but so does the car. That’s why a constructor’s championship exists alongside the driver championship. To award the best drivers and the best teams at the end of the 20 plus races.
And while Toro Rosso have consistently placed higher than Alfa Romeo in the Constructor’s Championships, he doesn’t know how he will perform in the car.
Before he knows it, it is time to get onto the grid. He takes his position and looks at the drivers around him.
The first set of lights come on and he takes a deep breath.
The second set of lights and he flexes his fingers around the steering wheel.
The third set of lights appear and he feels himself being in tune with the car.
He lets out a long exhale on the fourth set of lights.
The final set of lights appear and he keeps his eyes on the road.
Lights are out and off they go. The G force of the car pushes him against his seat and exhilaration fills his veins.
Immediately he sees the 3 championship favourites in his line of sight, leading the first turn in a blur of colour. The teal, red and navy of Mercedes, Ferrari and RedBull respectively slowly closing the gap between themselves.
He sees his teammate ahead of him and clicks his teeth. He didn’t watch the ravenette’s practice sessions but Iwaizumi seemed impressed. Now he knows why.
Despite his lack of experience, Kageyama Tobio is well known for being one of the most technical and adaptable drivers on the grid. The younger driver glides through chicanes like water, weaving into tight corners and braking so late that even Oikawa wince. On top of all that, he seems to have an above average ability to manage his tires, especially for a rookie.
That technical prowess makes him an unstoppable force on the track.
Infuriating.
Kageyama’s car tries to overtake the Haas up ahead, taking the inside line and pushing the car off the track but it doesn’t work. Instead, the Haas spins onto the gravel as the ravenette’s wheels brush up against it.
Bold, but reckless.
“Arrogant,” his own race engineers tell him during the cooldown lap. “He is lucky he didn’t end up with a punctured tire.”
Oikawa frowns under his helmet. It never does any good for team members to speak badly about one another, especially on the team radio where the whole world can listen in.
They finish the race in the same position they started. Not bad for their first race but definitely not where Oikawa expected them to be.
He isn’t worried, though. The team that succeeds at the start of the season doesn’t necessarily finish that way. It’s all about how you evolve, how you compete.
So he keeps his head down and focuses on his own schedule.
Press work on Wednesdays.
Team strategy meeting on Thursdays.
Practice on the track Friday.
Qualifiers on Saturday.
Race day on Sunday.
Fly out to the next location on Monday.
21 races in 21 different tracks around the globe.
After the first few races, he starts to understand Kageyama’s driving style better and begins strategising alongside him during their long haul flights. He wouldn’t call them friends, per se, but at least the strange tension between them had begun to ease and he was comfortable regarding Kageyama as his teammate. After a few more, he starts to get used to seeing Iwaizumi loop his arm around the ravenette’s shoulders and ruffle his hair as they arrive onto the track.
The spiky haired manager has always had a soft spot for rookies. Nevermind that Oikawa himself has only had 2 years in the sport.
But the difference between the two has never been clearer than during their home race, the Austrian Grand Prix.
Held at the Redbull Ring in Spielberg, it is to be expected that all eyes will be on RedBull Racing and their sister team, Toro Rosso. So it comes to no surprise that all the staff will be running around making sure that everything is perfect for their home grand prix.
Oikawa watches from afar as Kageyama stands in the middle of the garage, clueless as to what he needs to do or where he needs to be. It was almost comical, watching him stand stiffly as his crew bump shoulders against him trying to get past or ignore him completely as they make a dozen calls to their colleagues across the paddock.
Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on who you ask), the ravenette spots Oikawa and Iwaizumi walking past his garage, eyes lighting up, and runs up to them for him.
“Hey, Kageyama! What’s going on?” Iwaizumi asks.
The younger driver pouts, not really meeting their gaze. “I wanted to look at some of our data before qualifying but… I couldn’t find Kunimi or Kindaichi.”
The spiky haired manager hums. “Have you tried calling them?”
“Yeah. They’re not picking up my calls though.”
That makes Oikawa frowns. Their teams are really busy at the moment, yes. But they are by no means unreachable.
“They must have their hands full with the race prep,” Iwaizumi muses. “Well, you could always join us. I’ve got the data on my laptop.”
Kageyama’s eyes widened, eager to accept the invitation.
“Iwa-chan! It’s my data! You can’t-”
Blue eyes turned towards him and the excitement started to wane at Oikawa’s protest. It was at that moment that the brunette realised just how young he was.
For all the praise he gets for being the prodigy, a monstrous talent, the Prince of the Paddock, his quick rise through single-seater motorsport meant he didn’t get to stay in the categories for very long. He didn’t get the luxury of stability, nor did he maintain any of the relationships he built during the season. Not to mention, the ravenette doesn't seem to have a trainer, manager or performance coach with him.
It was that realisation that made Oikawa’s petty pride waver. He tried not to let it get to him but in the end, he relented.
“Fine. Just this once! And we’re looking through your data first.”
Kageyama nods eagerly. “Ok, Oikawa-san.”
There is this strange wobbly smile that spreads across the ravenette’s face. It’s awkward and reserved, just like its owner, but it makes Oikawa’s own lips tilt up just the same.
Monaco, June 2019: Race 11 of 21
Before he knows it, they find themselves in Monaco with 10 races behind them.
“Another week, another chance to crush Tobio-chan,” the brunette hums to himself.
It’s a street race, with many tight corners and a tunnel of all things. Still, Oikawa loves Monaco’s track. It makes him think more, strategizing and putting his driving to the test.
He arrives onto the paddock for the free practice session and there’s… an odd buzz surrounding the paddocks. There is also an odd flock of press hovering specifically around their motorhomes and Oikawa frowns.
“Did something happen?” He asks his best friend.
“Not really,” Iwaizumi shrugs. “Not anything important at least.”
He finds out as he nears his trailer and one of the press comes up to him to ask him what he thinks about what Kageyama said about him.
Oikawa blinks. “What did he say about me?”
Iwaizumi bites his lower lip as he thinks about how to word it carefully. “He…may or may not have said he had a little bit of a crush on you since your carting days.”
That jolts the brunette out of his usual calm demeanor. “He what?!”
“So, Tobio, it’s no secret you’re the youngest driver on the paddock and now you’re surrounded by a lot of amazing drivers. Is there anyone you were star-struck by when you first came to the paddocks?” the press asks.
Kageyama’s eyes sparkle. “Of course. I think everyone in the paddocks are amazing but for me, I think the one that has left me truly star-struck has been Oikawa-san. We used to train on the same track when we were younger and even then, he was a very good driver so I really look up to him.”
“Better than Ushijima?”
“Better,” he insists.
Oikawa blinks up at the TV replaying the interview with disbelief. It’s hard not to, seeing the younger’s insistence on his supposed greatness when he has yet to win more than a couple races per season. The clip then goes on to show a picture of the three of them, Oikawa, Kageyama and Iwaizumi on the podium at ages 9, 7 and 9 respectively, a few years before Oikawa moved to Spain to train with Blanco.
They then follow it up with a picture of Oikawa helping the younger with his helmet a couple races later. Where did they even get that picture?
“Damn. Good times,” Iwaizumi sighs nostalgically.
“Iwa-chan! You’re supposed to be my manager! What are we going to do about this?”
“What is there to do about this?” the dark-haired shrugs. “The kid looks up to you. So what?”
“So, we’re supposed to be rivals! Fighting for our seat at RedBull. This just makes it look like we’re a bunch of highschoolers talking about crushes.”
“Then ignore it. You’re the only one who insists on this whole rival thing. Which is worse than a high school crush, by the way. If anything, your reaction earlier probably gave the press what they wanted.”
Oikawa groans. He’s right. He has never had a problem with turning down a fan’s confession. Why should this be any different?
Also, why is he so riled up about this to begin with?
“Left tire puncture,” the engineer says later mid race.
Right. This is why it’s different.
“No! No fuck! That brat! What was he thinking?!” Oikawa screams into the mic.
In the 10ish races they have been in together, Kageyama has proven to be quite an aggressive driver, pushing other cars off the tracks and making risky overtakes to avoid losing his position. This time around, Kageyama had tried to overtake him during the first 5 laps, emphasis on tried. He saw an opening as they entered the chicane and tried to overtake Oikawa as they exited. The brunette grits his teeth as he feels more than sees Kageyama’s car brushing against his left side. The brunette’s car ended up losing a wing, puncturing his tires and he lost his pace, going down from P5 to P15 as he made a stop at the pitlane.
The engineer tries to encourage him, telling him he did a good job despite the circumstances but Oikawa is far from happy with the results.
“Where did Tobio finish?” He asks his engineer as he finishes through his cooldown lap.
“P10. He fell behind to P12 after he made contact with you then passed the others after his pitstop.”
Oikawa curses.
“We told him to stay low but he decided to attempt an overtake anyway. It cost us a few good points there.”
“You’re telling me he tried to overtake me against team orders?”
“He doesn’t listen to anything we say!” the engineer complains. “His team tried to tell him to maintain his position but he’s been very minimal with his communication. Maybe you could tell him to listen to us more, since he looks up to you and all that.”
Oikawa groans in annoyance. He helped Kageyama look through his data once. Once! And this is the thanks he gets.
Logically, he knew the media was to blame for making a big deal out of a seemingly harmless statement, but still!
“Negative. Have someone higher up talk to him. I don’t really feel like talking to him at the moment.”
“Copy that. We’ll see what we can do. In the meantime, enjoy your day, Tooru. You did well.”
“Thanks guys. We’ll get the next one.”
Let’s get one thing straight. Oikawa is not the cleanest driver. He tries to but he never claimed to be, neither can he afford to, if he wants to make his mark in the sport.
He doesn’t mind if Kageyama plays a bit rough on the track, as long as it doesn’t cost them points.
Bumping into other cars and getting your tires punctured? Costs them points.
He could blame it on inexperience but they both know Kageyama can drive better than that.
So, bumping into your teammate and damaging both cars? Unacceptable.
And now that he has crossed the line, the gloves are off.
Hungary, July 2019: Race 12 of 21
This time, Oikawa manages to qualify 3 positions ahead of Kageyama. Within the first 10 laps, a red flag was flown, signalling a car forced to retire. It comes to no surprise that Kageyama was behind it.
Thankfully, Oikawa’s car wasn’t the victim this time. A poor unsuspecting Renault was.
The car was pushed off the track by the ravenette’s attempt to overtake and ended up in the barriers.
“Gap to Tobio behind you, 0.9. DRS enabled.”
True to his word, he sees the tail wings of the younger’s white and blue car flatten in his rear view, reducing his car’s drag. Oikawa grits his teeth.
He’s pumped filled with adrenaline to the gills, determined not to let the younger pass. They are in the same car, developed by the same team. The only thing separating them now is their talent, and Oikawa will be damned if he will let Kageyama pass him.
He doesn’t manage to overtake the older on the straight and there is an even smaller chance at the hairpin. He concedes, moving out of DRS range and falling back behind Oikawa. But they both know it is far from over.
“I cannot believe this kid,” Oikawa grumbles.
“Don’t mind him, Tooru. Just focus on the race and keep pushing. We are P7, gap to Sokolov, 3.2 seconds.”
“Copy.”
He should be focusing on Sokolov’s car ahead of him. This could be his once chance to place in the top 5. But having Kageyama within shadow’s reach is not an easy sensation to ignore. It is a presence that demands attention, a threat nipping at your heels, waiting to devour you.
A startling contrast to the shy puppy eyes he shoots at Oikawa when he wants something.
Thankfully, the bumpy and dusty track keeps Kageyama in place, and it placates the ugly creature in Oikawa that threatens to break out and spill onto the track. He worked his whole life to be here, sacrificed a life of normalcy, school and friends for the smell of burning rubber, exhaust and high speed chases across the globe.
And if he wants to make it in this world, he has to move up. Earn himself that Redbull seat, get scouted by one of the top teams, push him further up the midfield until he is sitting at the front of the grid with only clean air in front of him.
He holds his breath through most of the final lap, the anxiety eating at him until his race engineer tells him he has passed the checkered flag. Only then is he able to exhale, breathing out a sigh of relief as he succeeds in keeping the monstrous prodigy behind him.
“Good race,” his engineer congratulates him.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Thank you.”
He was so focused on keeping Kageyama that they missed out on the podium by a 1/10th of a second, putting Oikawa and Kageyama in 4th and 5th place. It is by far the best result they have ever had but it is the least satisfied Oikawa has ever felt following a race.
As expected, the press swarm the younger driver the moment he exits the garage and heads towards the team building.
“Kageyama. Do you think Oikawa would approve of your tactics?”
The ravenette’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, his signature scowl on his face. “Why would I need Oikawa-san to approve of my tactics?”
“You said you look up to him. And-”
“Yes, I look up to him,” Kageyama interrupts. “But that doesn’t mean I’d change my tactics to please him. He is still my rival on the track. Just like the other drivers.”
Obviously not the answer they were looking for but Kageyama is tired of them pestering him about something seemingly innocuous. If they didn’t come to the track to see them race then why are they here?
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a post-race debrief to attend, and I need a shower.”
Singapore, September 2019: Race 18 of 21
The Marina Bay circuit is one of the hardest races in the F1 calendar. On top of the highly technical street race, the humidity of the tropical island can leave you sweating buckets.
The heat gets worse the longer the race goes, with the engines heating up far more quickly and his own sweat seeping into his suit, helmet and gloves. The race leaves him feeling dizzy, his thoughts pounding in his skull as he struggles to not to feel sick.
“Kageyama, 0.5 seconds behind you. His DRS has been enabled.”
“Shit,” he grits.
Kageyama takes the inside line of the chicane and exits ahead of him. Oikawa takes back the spot on the straight, making use of the younger’s car ahead of him to deter most of the air resistance then swerves and passes him in an instant.
It’s nail biting, both for the engineers and the drivers as they swap places at least 3 times in the last couple laps. With 5 laps left to go, and Oikawa in the lead, the brunette is confident the tides will turn in his favour.
The end is so close, he can almost taste it.
There is a turn ahead of them and he hopes that the sharp corner is enough to deter the ravenette’s attempt to overtake him. No such luck because as he makes the turn, he can see the front wings of the younger’s car peek into the corner of his vision and he knows they're not going to make it.
He feels the cars make contact and grits his teeth as carbon fibre and metal parts graze against each other, pushing the two cars into the barriers until they both hit the walls. It’s hot, unbearably so, the smell of brake dust and burnt rubber filling his senses and Oikawa struggles to get his breath under control.
“Tooru, are you ok?” he hears through his helmet.
He takes a long breath, blinking out the white flashes in his vision to try and bring the adrenaline back down before he answers. “Yeah, I’m ok.”
“Copy. Get out of the car as soon as you can, we are seeing a concerning level of smoke from your car.”
Oikawa groans, bumping his head against the steering wheel before removing it and climbing out of the car. The medics on site took a good look at him before they even allowed him to head back to the garage. He takes a seat next to Kageyama in the safety car, hitching a ride back to the pitboxes and the air is charged with tension.
It is mortifying, having both cars retire from the race. He can already hear Oliver telling the media that their performance today was an embarrassment. And trust me, Oikawa knows better than anyone how embarrassing it is.
Oikawa’s team knows better than to talk to him when he is like this. They know that talking to him after an elimination is rather pointless, leading to more arguments than discussions. It seems Kageyama’s team is doing the same, seeing how the engineers avoid the ravenette walking across the garage.
They get back to the pitboxes and once all the gear is returned, he closes the door and turns to Kageyama.
“What the fuck happened out there?”
Predictably, there is a stubborn scowl on the younger’s face. But at least he isn’t pretending to be innocent.
“I had the inside line,” is all he says.
“No, you don’t get to play that card. I don’t care if the inside line was wide open or if we were in the middle of a straight. Your team told you to keep your head down and instead, you made contact with me! And now both of us are out of the race and none of us are getting any points!”
“Because you didn’t give me any room.”
“God, you’re such a brat,” Oikawa spits.
Is it true that he could have slowed down to give the ravenette some space and kept both of them in the race? Yes. But he did not come to Formula 1 to sit back as his teammate brute forced his way up the grid.
“Why can’t you get it into your thick skull that this isn’t a solo sport?”
“But it is! It’s my number on the car. My name in the driver entries. I don’t need anyone else’s help. I just need me and the car-”
“-and the engineers. And the mechanics. And the sponsors. And a teammate. All this to win the Constructors Championship,” Oikawa adds.
Kageyama remains stubborn as he glares at the brunette.
“Look. I know you want to win. So do I. But bumping into others isn’t going to get us any points. No points, no trophy. I’m not telling you to stand down. I’m telling you to pick your fights.”
There’s tension between them, blue locked on brown, but they both want that podium. So on that front, they are united. And Oikawa can see when Kageyama acquiesced.
Toro Rosso ended up in 5rd place overall in the Constructors Championship that year with Kageyama and Oikawa in 10th and 9th respectively. Not a bad position to be in but both of them are far from satisfied.
“Oliver! It seems like there is some friction between your drivers. Are you worried about the lead up to the next season?” someone asks their Team Principal during post-season testing.
“Uhm, not really. You know, only a diamond can polish a diamond and both our drivers are immensely talented and super super fast. I have no doubt they will push each other to be even better than they already are.”
If Tobio doesn’t push me off the track first , Oikawa thinks. He holds his tongue as they continue to ask questions. Because at the end of the day, all Toro Rosso drivers are RedBull drivers and opportunities can come knocking at any moment.
His time will come. He just has to be ready for it.