Into the Apex

Belgiums Darkest Day

It was the morning of the Belgian Grand Prix, a day that had started with such excitement. Alya was sitting in the Williams paddock, feeling the buzz of the weekend in the air. It was a moment she'd been waiting for, a moment that had arrived far too fast. Masachika, her boyfriend, was starting in P8, a position that felt like a dream come true for the Williams team. It was the highest they had started in years. Everyone in the garage was hopeful, and she could feel it.

The sun hung high over the circuit, casting a warm glow on the teams as the first cars began to roll out for the formation laps. Alya had already seen Masachika off as he made his way to the car. She had wished him luck, but the words felt insignificant compared to what she was really feeling. She was nervous—more than usual. It had been a while since she'd watched him race at this level. She knew how important this race was for him and for Williams.

Just before the race began, Masachika had pulled her aside, his usual playful smile on his face.

"Don't worry, Alya," he said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I've got this. Today could be the day we finally get something big. And I'm going to do it for us."

She had looked into his eyes, and for a moment, all the noise of the track and the chaos of the race weekend faded. He always made her feel like everything would be okay, even when she knew it wouldn't be easy.

"You're always so sure of yourself," Alya teased, trying to mask the anxiety bubbling up inside her. She smiled, but her heart was heavy. "Just... please, be careful, okay?"

"I'll be fine. I've got this." He grinned before pulling her into a quick hug, his arms strong around her. "See you at the finish line, okay?"

Alya watched as he walked toward his car, her breath caught in her throat, her heart thumping loudly. She knew that racing was dangerous, and part of her still couldn't shake the fear that one day it would be too much.

The race had been intense from the start, a battle between the grid's heavyweights and the underdogs. Masachika's determination was palpable, and he drove with precision, keeping his position and gaining ground at every corner. As they passed the halfway point of the race, he was in P8, holding strong. The Williams team had been quietly optimistic—this was the best performance they had seen in years. For Masachika, this race felt like it could be the turning point of his season.

Alya was on the edge of her seat, her fingers clutched tightly around the armrest of the garage's viewing area. She could see his progress on the monitors, could hear the cheering of the crowd as the race unfolded. It was a symphony of excitement, and she was right there with it.

But then, something changed.

On lap 37, the unexpected happened.

Masachika was coming through Eau Rouge, a high-speed corner that was already infamous for its dangers. The track had been wet, and the grip on the tires had been challenging. In a split second, Masachika's car lost traction, the rear end stepping out as he tried to push through the corner. His Williams slid sideways, slamming hard into the barriers at high speed.

Alya's stomach dropped. Time seemed to slow as she watched the car crash into the barriers, metal crumpling on impact. She held her breath as his car bounced off the wall, sending him careening back onto the track at an angle. And then, as though it were some terrible twist of fate, Pierre Gasly's Toro Rosso came barreling into the side of him at an unfathomable speed—nearly 200mph.

The crash was brutal.

Gasly's car hit Masachika's at full force, sending both cars into a terrifying spin. Masachika's car was thrown through the air, flipping over before sliding on its roof. It skidded across the track for a moment before finally flipping back onto its one remaining wheel and coming to a complete stop. A deafening silence followed.

The crowd, which had been roaring with excitement just moments before, fell eerily quiet. The sudden, catastrophic crash had silenced everyone in the stands, as if they, too, knew something was terribly wrong. A ripple of concern spread like wildfire across the circuit as spectators, drivers, and teams alike waited for some sign that Masachika was okay.

Alya's heart raced in her chest. She stared at the screen, her hands trembling. Every second felt like an eternity. Masachika's car was wrecked, motionless. There was no sign of him moving, not even the faintest movement to indicate he was okay. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her mind screamed at her, but her body was frozen.

The radio chatter buzzed around her, but it all felt distant. Alya could barely focus on the words. The scene on the screen consumed her thoughts. The impact had been violent, the crash had been brutal, and Masachika hadn't even budged. There was no sign of him getting out of the car, no hint of him trying to move. The car remained still, silent.

The minutes stretched on, stretching into what felt like an unbearable eternity.

After around ten minutes of sitting in shock, Alya's mind snapped back to reality. Her thoughts were scattered, but the one thing she needed to know was clear: Was Masachika okay?

She shot up from her seat, her voice sharp, barely controlled. "Any updates? Is there any information about Masachika? Please, someone, tell me something!"

Her father, Agaki, who had appeared in the garage, came to her side, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a visible concern. "We don't know anything yet," he said softly, trying to keep his composure, but Alya could see the worry in his eyes. "The medical teams are working on him. They're doing everything they can."

Alya nodded, though her throat felt tight, and her chest was on the verge of caving in. Her eyes didn't leave the screen, even as the noise of the garage faded into the background. The minutes continued to crawl by, each one dragging the hope out of her, piece by piece.

Finally, the announcement came over the loudspeakers, breaking the silence in the paddock.

"Masachika Kuze is being airlifted to the hospital. The medical team is working on him. More information will be given soon."

Alya sank into a chair, her body shaking. Her phone felt like it weighed a ton in her hands, but still, she clung to it, unable to tear her eyes away from the track. The world felt like it was crumbling beneath her, and there was nothing she could do.

She thought of Masachika—his smile, his warmth, his confidence. The person who had always been there for her, who had carried her through so many of life's ups and downs. Now, all she could do was pray that he would pull through this.

The crowd outside had gone silent too, the excitement of the race now forgotten. The mood in the grandstands had shifted, their collective energy replaced with the same fear that was gripping Alya's heart. People had begun holding up signs, their messages of support for Masachika now echoing in the heavy atmosphere.

But Alya wasn't focused on the crowd. Her thoughts were on him, on the man who had become her everything. And she refused to believe that this was the end.