Sasaki Jotaro grimaced. Eighteen years old today, he thought as he stared at the ceiling from his bed. (Note: Surnames come first in Japanese culture)
Jotaro was getting his first car today, but he was worried about what it was going to be. He stepped out of his tiny bed and tiptoed past his sleeping brother, Keitaro. Keitaro was born on exactly the same date three years after Jotaro. He was going to be fifteen, when the lazy arse woke up. He checked his cell phone. It was already creeping past 10:00. Ah, he loved summer vacation!
After changing into some jeans and a T-shirt he wandered out into the main chamber of his family's tiny Tokyo apartment. His parents were lounging in their chairs, his father reading a newspaper and his mother solving a Su Doku puzzle.
"Good morning, sunshine," his mother didn't even look up from her Su Doku. "Who's my eighteen-year old baby boy??"
Jotaro was hardly a baby. He was about 6 feet tall, a giant in Japan.
"I think it's about time you stop with that," his father grunted, looking at her over the top of his reading glasses. He looked up at his son with a smile. "Is Keitaro still sleeping?"
Jotaro nodded.
"Lazy," his father sighed. "Are you still going out to the movies with Ichiro and Shinya?"
Jotaro shrugged. "Shinya's old Toyota Crown is falling apart. I don't think it's safe for human usage."
"Doesn't Ichiro have a car?" his mother asked.
"Yeah, an Efini RX-7 in the garage."
"Well, I guess we'll have to unveil our present a little early," his father said. "I have a feeling you're going to like this one a lot…"
"Is it a GT-R?" Keitaro was right behind him.
"I told you, we can't afford one of those," his father said. "…even still, I think this car will surprise you."
"It had better not be a front-wheel drive." Jotaro grunted before walking to the bathroom to put his contacts in and to comb his long black hair.
Inoue Shinya and Nakamura Ichiro were not your run-of-the-mill friends. At nine, the pair had been sent to the headmistress's office for exploding a 2-liter soda bottle in the boys' room. Now that they were eighteen like Jotaro, they were just getting more insane.
Shinya's family didn't have much money, so Shinya could only afford an aging green 1978 Toyota Crown sedan. It was comfy, but was falling apart after 300,000 kilometers of driving. Of course, the fact that Shinya had basically abused the car (his favorite stunt was the time he'd jumped over two keicars) made it worse. He was short but built, with brown, almost blonde hair.
Ichiro was almost the complete opposite. His father had bought him a red Efini RX-7 and Ichiro was in the process of tuning it for Wangan abuse. He'd spent almost 3,000,000 yen on it and was sponsored by HKS. But of course, it wasn't running yet. He towered above Shinya, but was only inches above Jotaro. His hair was black, but he wore it shorter than the other two.
"Man, this movie had better not suck," Shinya grumbled behind the wheel of his Crown. "Ichiro, you have no clue how hard I have to work to make a few lousy yen."
"Is the Efini running yet?" Jotaro ignored Shinya.
"No," Ichiro said flatly. "I ordered an engine management system but it hasn't come in yet. But I know that if I do it right, I could take down anyone on the Wangan."
"Even the Matchless Crowd Racing R34?" Shinya taunted.
"Alright, maybe not that. That car is a beast," Ichiro turned a little pale.
"Then again, I probably won't be racing on the C1," he said. "I'm heading straight for top speed territory. 'Smokey' Nagata, eat your heart out!!"
"Smokey Nagata's Supras would ice your whiny rotary anyday," Shinya said. "Anyway, we're here."
After the movie was over (Shinya complained, like always), they took the Crown back towards home. Shinya took a long detour out onto the Wangan highway.
"Jotaro, if you're lucky, this is where you'll be in a few hours," Shinya said. "You won't win any races running dead stock, but it'll be fun for me and Ichiro."
"Well, considering your Crown is lucky to break 120 kilos," Ichiro said, "it'll be heaven to you."
"Shit…I don't think my Crown can hit any kilos," Shinya murmured. There was a brief silence as the car sputtered, wheezed, coughed, and died, in the middle of the Wangan highway, miles from their home.
Shinya pulled the car off to the side of the bridge they were on, cursing his luck.
"You had your choice of 318,763 kilometers to break down," Shinya said quietly. "…and you choose now."
He sighed and popped the hood open and thick black smoke clouded the air in front of him. Shinya let it cool for a few minutes and then tried every technique he knew to try and revive his dead vehicle. Ichiro had called for a tow truck, but it was miles away and they themselves needed a lift.
Then, as if by from heaven, a heavily-tuned Nissan R34 GT-R pulled over to the side of the highway and stopped dead behind of the dead Crown.
"You guys need a lift?" a blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreigner rolled down the tinted window. "Looks like your Crown wasn't made for Wangan running."
Ichiro and Jotaro chuckled but Shinya just sulked.
Well, it's certainly a sweet ride, Jotaro thought. The Skyline was equipped with a Do-Luck body kit he recognized from a Hyper Rev magazine, even the low spoiler. The rims were Yokohama Super Advan Ver. IIs, black with a polished lip. It had a carbon hood and trunk and its idle was lumpier than the seats in Shinya's P.O.S. Crown. Jotaro spotted a sticker on the rear window which read Wangan Emperor.
An Isuzu tow truck blinked its hazards and pulled over in front of the two cars.
"Well, Shinya, we'll see you back at my house," Jotaro chuckled.
Ichiro beat Jotaro to the other side of the R34, but Jotaro took the front seat first. Ichiro reluctantly climbed into the back seat.
The interior of the R34 was bare. There was no radio, and most of the trim, including carpets, were gone. Ichiro nearly hit his head on a low-hanging section of a rollcage.
"Hardcore," he murmured.
The driver shifted into first and pulled off onto the highway, leaning back into his racing seat as he finessed another shift into second.
"Man, how old are you kids?" he asked as he passed by a string of taxi cabs. "Riding around in a pile of crap like that…"
"Seventeen," said Ichiro. "But I've got an Efini RX-7 at home."
"Another rotary freak in the making…" the driver said.
He chuckled. "I'm just messing with you guys. I'm Jeremy Westfield, captain of Wangan Emperor. So what do they call you guys when you're around?"
"Nakamura Ichiro."
"Sasaki Jotaro."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Jeremy said flatly. "Where do you guys live?"
"Well, it's his eighteenth birthday today," Ichiro said. "We were taking a detour in Shinya's Crown and it died."
"Eighteen?" Jeremy cracked a wide grin as a white C5 Corvette blew past on the left side. "Well, I guess I forgot to get a present. Can I make it up to you?"
Jotaro was about to say that it wasn't necessary when he felt himself being thrown back in his racing seat. The RB26DETT engine screamed and as the third gear ended, the blow-off valve shrieked and Jotaro was flung forward as Jeremy shifted into fourth and 250 kilos found its way into history.
The R34 was almost even with the Corvette now. Jotaro could feel his heart pounding through his chest as the 300 kilometer mark crept by.
We're doing 310 kilos!!! Jotaro thought, utterly amazed as the Corvette drew even, then slowly fell back until it was just a speck in the rearview mirror. This is the fastest I've ever gone in my life!
Finally, Jeremy throttled back and the speedometer crept back down to around 120 kilometers.
"So…where do you guys live?" Jeremy asked, as if nothing had happened
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The R34 GT-R eased its way into the narrow road. Almost hitting an older man on a tiny moped, Jeremy stopped the shining car in front of Jotaro's awed parents. In front of the house was another GT-R, this one a stock black R32 model.
Ichiro gasped. "You got an R32?!! Shinya's going to shit!"
As the two squeezed out of the low car, Jeremy called Jotaro over.
"Not a bad ride, kid. Well, I'll probably see you again on the highway soon, so keep in touch."
He handed Jeremy a slip of paper with a phone number and an e-mail address. "E-mail me all you want, but call me only when you think you're ready for Wangan Emperor."
With that, Jeremy gunned the RB26 turbo motor and drove off into the night.
"Shinya's still at the garage," Jotaro's dad said, watching the R34 go. He nodded to the R32. "Happy birthday, Jotaro."
Jotaro was speechless. "You…you said I wasn't getting a GT-R!"
His dad shrugged. "I lied. Besides, we all know how much you like the Wangan."
He nodded to the R32 again. "Go ahead. Take a drive."
"Not without Shinya," Jotaro said loyally.
His dad chuckled. "Well, here's the man himself."
The Crown, still coughing smoke, clattered noisily down the alley. Shinya hit the brakes and it wheezed to a grinding halt.
"How d'ya like my new ride, then, Shinya?" Jotaro leaned on his R32 GT-R. "Hurry up, I haven't got all night."
Shinya muttered something about luck, but climbed into the back seat and buckled himself in. Ichiro snuggled into the comfy seat, as did Jotaro.
"Won't go very far without the keys," Jotaro's father leaned in and jangled a keychain in front of the young man. Jotaro, with a smile, took them and inserted them in the ignition. "Don't go too fast now."
Jotaro fired up the RB26DETT engine, pressed in the clutch, and was off into the night.
"I still think we should've bought him the Suzuki Cappucino," his mother said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.