400KpH

Even when I was small, I knew that was my goal.

Oops, sorry, where's my manners? I think they're around here somewhere… Ah! Found them! Anyway, to get introductions out the way, my name is Raiden.

What? Why are you looking at me so expectantly?

Oh, wait. That's why.

Well, I'm a pure white Nissan GT-R. I have blue eyes, and my wheels are the standard wheels that come with my model. At least, at the start of the story anyway.

We're done here, right?

Okay, good

Back to the story

I was born in Japan in 1995, my mother a Toyota and my father, like me, a Nissan. They say my white colour came from my mother, and the blue eyes from my dad. Although, my passion for speed came from both of them. My mother was always involved in drifting competitions, while my father seemed to only compete in street races. It was when my Dad's friend convinced him to come along to a drift competition that my parents met, and even though they say it was love at first sight, anyone who was there at the time would tell you they straight up hated each other. But my father must've done something right, otherwise I wouldn't be speaking to you know, would I?

In 1997 we moved from Japan to Ireland. Everything was colder there, but it was fun, nonetheless. I met Sean there, a cerulean blue Aston Martin Vanquish. He had green eyes, and, although his parents weren't really involved in racing, he also seemed to love speed and everything related. We became really good friends over the 6 years that I stayed there. Even afterwards, when we moved to London in 2003 because my Dad had been promoted at work, we stayed in touch, and our future seemed far away. But, in 2010, when I started racing, well...certain faecal matter hit the fan.

"Hey you, dontcha think you're a little small to race?" A fiery red Mustang said, pulling up to the line next to me.

"Aren't you a little old to be trash talking a young child like me?" I shot back, giving him a cold look.

"What'd you say!?" he shouted angrily

"See? You can't even hear what I'm saying, definitely old age."

"Leave him," a silver Honda NSX said, pulling up on my right, "He's just a child Brett, he's naive and overconfident."

"Hey!"

"Alright," Brett said, obviously ticked off, "But I'm still going to beat you so hard you'll think you've stalled at the line," he looked to me with an extremely angry look on his face. I bit my tongue so that I wouldn't give some witty and intelligent comeback to that.

Two other cars had pulled up, one green the other with a bunch of stickers, but I couldn't make out what kind of cars they were. Brett and the NSX were blocking my view.

"Are you ready?" a small female red car asked. In response we all revved our engines.

"Ready," she switched on her neon and rode off the street in front of us, revealing a similar yellow car behind her.

"Set," the yellow car mimicked the first girl's actions, while I narrowed my eyes as I revved my engine.

"Go!" the last green car said excitedly, and we were off. I had the advantage off the line, with my four-wheel drive, while the others seemed to take just an extra second as their wheels spun in an attempt to find some grip on the tarmac.

The track was along the streets of London, a simple circuit with a few tricky turns, not very long either. Our race was 3 laps of the street circuit, with traffic.

Well, it is called "Street" racing.

With my short lead I rounded the first corner, sliding slightly. Thankfully there wasn't much other cars along this road, but I couldn't take an arrow-straight line down it either. 3 corners later, Brett had somehow found his way beside me, in terms of position. Most other times there was another car between us but they weren't part of the race so it was fine. My lead had been at least a metre from my rear bumper at the start of the race, now it was none but a bumper. Or, maybe slightly more. I was kind of just trying to win at the time. Anyway! My point was that I didn't have much of a lead at the moment, if any.

A lap later and my lead hadn't changed much. Although, there was one sharp corner that the other cars seemed to find extremely difficult. Going down the back straight I thought about it and then I realized I could take advantage of some talent which had been acquired through my parents. I smirked, and after getting past a very surprised truck, I rode as fast as I could to the turn.

"Handbrake, then throttle control. That's how you drift." I heard my mother's voice in my mind. I followed mind mom's instuctions, and sure enough, I took the sharp right-hander quicker than my brain could realise. By the time I exited the turn, I thought I was still in the middle of it. That in turn increased my lead by about 3 metres, which may not be that long, but trust me, 3 metres is win or lose in some races. With that being said, I managed to hold the other cars off long enough for me to win my race. I rode over to my dad, who looked extremely happy.

"Congrats Raiden! Not many can say they won their first ever race, not even me!" my dad said, lightly nudging my bumper with his tyre.

"What? You didn't win your first race?" I asked, raising my eyebrow lid thing.

"Nope. Came third. Out of two cars racing" Dad said, with a serious face.

"Lies." I said, almost reflexively

"It's true! In my first race my left rear tyre burst so I couldn't even finish" Dad said, smiling awkwardly at me. I think he wasn't too happy about it.

Now, dear reader, you may be confused as to how a little 15 year old Nissan GT-R managed to beat a Mustang and an NSX, both of which were experienced street racers, without NO2 or rockets instead of exhausts.

Well, I'll tell you.

When I was 13 my father took me to a workshop, where they fitted bigger turbos to my engine, and then a year later he took me back there and they fitted a titanium semi-racing exhaust instead of my old one. Finally, 2 weeks before the race we went back for some adjustments to my suspension, where they fitted adjustable suspension instead of my usual one, and they set my ride height a bit lower than usual. Strangely it didn't feel any less comfortable.

All that gave me just enough to win the race by 0.78 seconds, and yes, we did time it.All was well, my racing career was starting, (although it only consisted of street races) I was being trained by my mother on how to drift, everything was lovely, until one day...