Initial Wangan

by Kevin Griffis

Crossover fic featuring Initial D and Wangan Midnight. Blackbird versus the White Comet, Devil Z against the yellow FD, and Takumi caught in the middle.

Keisuke drove down Mt. Akagi in the Starlet, one hand on the wheel and the other on the shifter as he made his descent. The g-forces that pulled against his body, weak as they were, reminded him of the many descents he had made, the ever-increasing speeds he had made them at.

"Too much emotional crap," he said again, feeling slightly jealous over Ryosuke's concern for Yoshiro. With his foot to the floor, Keisuke drifted the Starlet around another corner, sitting up in his seat and beginning to feel his blood rise. Sliding sideways through the turn, Keisuke's eyebrows shot up as the front end lightened and the steering wheel lost all of its weight. The front tires were screaming sideways. Desperately pumping the throttle he managed to transfer enough weight to hook the front tires again, tapping the brakes to finish the slide.

"Amateur," Asakura said, holding back on the throttle. Tired with Hakone's curves, Akio had made the trek to Gunma prefecture and was slowly learning the various mountains as best he could, hoping to improve his control of the powerful Devil Z. With a slow red Toyota in his way, there would be no record downhill run this time. Akio took his foot completely off the throttle and let the Z's monster motor wind down, giving the Starlet more space. The red hatchback rushed down the mountain as quickly as it could, its faded paint shining in the light of the moon overhead. Akio kept himself just far enough behind to watch without pressuring the driver, then, at the bottom of the mountain, he turned left as the Starlet turned right.

Keisuke looked over his shoulder for a moment, wondering at the old blue Datsun that took off at an incredible pace before bringing his mind back to the present.

"Slow progress with Kyoko, brother's back with his buddy Yoshiro. My FD is waiting for me to drive it, but I don't want to." He shook his head, driving past the deserted garage. The yellow FD could be seen through the clean windows, waiting. With another heavy sigh Keisuke pushed the Starlet into first and made his gradual way home, turning things over in his mind. Parking out front, he patted the Starlet on the hood before walking inside and climbing the stairs to his room. Passing by his brother's room, Keisuke felt a twinge of annoyance that the room was dark and empty. His brother was probably still out celebrating. When Fumihiro, Yoshiro, and his brother had gotten together in the early days they had stayed out at all hours of the night.

Keisuke opened the door to his room, cleaned his teeth, washed his face, and then flopped down on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Why don't I like driving my FD more? I used to drool over the idea of getting behind the wheel. Now I hate it. Well," he said, turning on his side, "I don't hate it. I'm just tired of driving it. It used to be fun when it was by myself, but now that I'm racing all the time, it's a job. The Starlet's fun because it's so easy to overwhelm, but I can't stand driving just that car, it's too damn slow." With a sulk, he closed his eyes. With thoughts of the Starlet, FD, and Kyoko floating in his mind, he drifted off to sleep.

A sudden bang from the other room snapped him awake. Keisuke sat up in the bed and stared at his clock. An hour's sleep, and the bang had come from his brother's room. Padding over quietly in his bare feet, he looked in the open door at his brother sitting cross-legged on the floor, laptop balanced on his knees.

"Bro? Everything cool?" he asked. Ryosuke looked up and smiled.

"Fine. Going racing with Yoshiro next week after we fix his car. No challenges on the website, so consider it a sabbatical. I know you're sick of driving. Give yourself a rest." Keisuke watched with narrowed eyes as his brother weaved slightly, walking with a small amount of difficulty over to his bed. If not drunk, he was at least mildly inebriated. For such an uptight person like Ryosuke, it was a shock to see him so jubilant.

"Isn't it nice to have a huge weight lifted off your shoulders?" Ryosuke asked before flopping down on his bed and passing out. Keisuke shut the door and returned to his room, shaking his head.

Fujiwara smiled to himself, supremely happy he was once more installed in the AE86's seat. His father had relented to his endless pestering, and was once more allowing him to cycle between the 86 and the Impreza for his deliveries. Diving toward the corner, Takumi felt his internal clock clicking. In perfect harmony he hit the brakes, downshifting into third and second while blipping the throttle to rev-match, letting the clutch out again and going full throttle as he turned the steering wheel into the corner. The car's balance changed, the body rotating farther than the wheels had pointed it. The rear wheels were slipping, and with practiced smoothness he countersteered just enough into the turn to stabilize the car, balancing the steering with infinite care of the throttle. The hachi-roku followed his line perfectly, the perfect expression of his driving talent.

The short straight gave him a chance to wind out the motor up into fourth gear, bouncing off the 12,000 RPM limit, its full 270 HP thrusting the car forward with the unmistakable sound of individual throttle bodies and high compression pistons. Each gear was its own unique rush, accompanied by the perfect soundtrack of the motor. The tofu sloshed a bit in the back, reminding him to slow down. At the hotel he unloaded quickly and returned to the hachi-roku, taking off with his usual eagerness. The Corolla wagged its tail side to side as the tires fought for traction, the limited slip differential channeling torque to whatever wheel could hold it.

"Time to have fun," Takumi said, pushing his foot to the floor and ripping through the gears, and, freed from having to hold back, he rushed headlong into the downhill, the warning chime's voice drowned out by the roar of the engine and the scream of the tires. A pair of headlights appeared in his rearview mirror, suddenly popping into sight with a violence and speed that reminded him of the Impreza, or Keisuke's FD.

"See if you can keep up," Takumi growled, pushing harder. The hachi-roku flew through the corner, a four wheel drift with minimal countersteer that he held through a short straight before sliding through another corner. The headlights in the rearview mirror grew smaller and smaller until the next short straight, when they grew large in the blink of an eye. Takumi spared a glance to look at his opponent.

"Huh?" he said, shaking off the urge to scratch his head. A long blue hood framed by two yellowed headlights that cast off their dim beams, the gleam of mirrors mounted on fenders, and a form behind the wheel.

"I don't recognize it," Takumi said, "but he's good, whoever he is. Let's see if he can keep up with my hachi-roku." Diving into another turn, Takumi used his father's line, picking up a staggering amount of speed and running out of sight of the blue mystery car. The next straight revealed it again, brake rotors glowing red.

"Massive power on the straight, slower in the corners," he said, making a snap analysis of the situation. The long easy portion of Akina was gone now, and the tight corners with the infrequent straights made it hard to catch a glimpse of his opponent, if that's what he was. Takumi blushed, remembering the innocent bystanders he had mistaken for opponents in the past.

Takumi drove home and put the car away, wiping down the back from where the tofu's water had slopped out. Bunta watched him through the window and chuckled.

"He's gotten used to the Impreza now. Driving the hachi-roku takes effort. Good."

Takumi came inside and was halfway up the stairs before he stopped and came back down.

"Hey dad," he asked.

"Eh?" Bunta replied, letting his paper flop over far enough for him to make eye contact with his son standing on the edge of the stairs, a nervous look on his face.

"I saw a new car tonight, on Mt. Akina. I don't know what kind it was. It had a long hood, and mirrors on the fenders," Takumi said.

"That could be any old car," Bunta replied, snapping his paper to make it stand up and returning to his reading. Without letting the paper drop, he asked one question.

"Did it have an open mouth with a wide steel bar across it?" he asked.

"I think so," Takumi replied.

"That would probably be a Fairlady Z. I used to race against those when I was younger," Bunta said, setting down his cigarette and picking up his cup.

"Are they good?"

"They're not bad. Some can be quite powerful. There was one I used to know that was very impressive in a straight line, but its cornering needed improving. Kind of the opposite of the hachi-roku. Go to sleep, you've got work in a few hours," Bunta grunted, returning his full concentration to the paper. Takumi trudged upstairs and fell into his bed with a grateful sigh. Sleep was so rare to come by when Project D was out on the road, it was nice to have a brief rest and soak up all the sleep he could. The soft bed was a welcome change from the firm bucket seat of the hachi-roku, his usual place of rest when out on a challenge. Snuggling under the covers against the cold autumn air, Takumi sighed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

Keisuke woke up with a start, his perfect sleep shattered by the roar of his brother's Spirit R.

"Damn idiot," he grumbled, grabbing his pillow and jamming it over his ears as the rotary engine bellowed and snorted, warming up in the driveway. With a final deliberate scream of power, the Spirit R shot out of the driveway and down the street, its exhaust rattling the windshield as it left. Keisuke stared at the clock, felt a wave of desperation wash over him at the early hour, then grudgingly got up. An hour later, washed and fed, he was in the same position as his brother, key in the ignition, deliberating whether or not to start his engine.

He started up the massive one liter engine, shaking with fury, and drove off toward the garage. Today was going to be a good day.

"It's going to be a good day," he yawned. "Woken up by my brother twice, my peace shattered, breakfast stolen out from under me. I'll fix this day," he said, stopping outside the garage. Fumihiro glanced up from his work, eyes red from lack of sleep, and opened the door.

"What's up, Keisuke?" he asked softly.

"How big was your party last night?" Keisuke asked curiously before turning to his primary objective, the gleaming yellow FD. Sliding behind the seat and firing it up, he noticed Fumihiro wince slightly before walking off.

"If my tea-sipping brother and stick in the mud Fumihiro are this bad off, I wonder how this Yoshiro fellow is," Keisuke said to himself, letting the FD idle until it was warm enough to be driven hard. Tearing out of the shop he blasted along the surface streets until he hit the highway, hoping to make it in time. Glancing at his watch he pushed his foot down harder, privately cursing himself for taking so long in waking up and making his mind. With a breath of relief, he pulled into the lot, parked his car, and made a mad dash for the race track. A large banner proclaimed the special attraction, a small gathering of American performance cars. After the last serious race was finished, the Americans were rolled out onto the track and fired up.

"Oh wow," Keisuke murmured as the sound hit him. Deep gut-thumping bass from massive piston engines filled the air as the small field of roughly ten cars took off for a quick series of laps. Nimble coupes fought it out with larger fastbacks, slicing and dicing on the field in an absurdly cautious yet brutal manner. Bulls in ballerina shoes, it seemed like. At least Yoshiro had been good for something. If it wasn't for Daichi's presence, he wouldn't have made an effort to come check out the show.

Walking back to his FD, Keisuke noticed one of the cars being loaded up into a trailer and walked by to take a closer look. The fellow loading the car was American as well, so he stopped to speak, hoping the man would understand Japanese.

"What kind of car is this?" he asked, pointing a finger at the coupe.

"1967 Chevy Camaro Z28," came the reply.

"May I look under the hood?" he asked. The man leaned inside the car and popped the hood, then walked in front to open it. Keisuke looked down at a bizarre tangle of wiring and a dual carburetor setup. The man walked around and looked down at the engine with him, then his eye caught Keisuke's car key and the sight of the yellow FD not too far away.

"Racer?" he asked.

"Yeah," Keisuke replied. "Sort of. On the street."

"You like this car, powerful. Not precise," came the answer. The man slid inside and put the key in the ignition, firing up the 302 cubic inch V8.

"Three inch stroke, four inch bore, V8. Five liters, designed for racing class. Bigger engines available, but this is nice. Rated for two hundred ninety horsepower, makes four hundred. Seven thousand revolution per minute redline," the man said helpfully, hopping out of the car and ushering Keisuke inside. The young man sat down in the low-back bucket seat, mildly uncomfortable, but his distress melted away at the sound and feel of the big V8's idle. It was a deep throaty creamy woofle type of noise, a lub lub lub with what sounded like an occasional skip, no doubt caused by a massive camshaft.

"You drive?" the man asked.

"No, I couldn't drive this car," Keisuke replied.

"I sit passenger, you drive, go around block. Needs gas," he added as an excuse for the errand. Aware that the car was rare, Keisuke buckled up and took the four speed stick's shifter in his hand. The heavy clutch and left hand drive were unusual to say the least, but fun in their difference from the norm.

"Only 602 made this year. Very rare, very choice. You like?" he asked. Keisuke frowned, unable to discern what it was he was feeling. The steering was heavy and slow at low speeds, light and quick at higher speeds. The car tracked well enough but rolled heavily in the corners, its tires squealing and screeching.

"Go ahead, open up throttle. Big power," the man said in broken Japanese. It was obvious the conversation was straining his speaking abilities, and from his dress and general appearance he hadn't been in the country for very long at all. Keisuke, worried about the damage he might do to such a rare car, bit the tip of his tongue and forced his foot down. The massive engine bellowed with power, thrusting the car forward in an insane rush of torque that pinned him back in the seat.

"Don't be chicken, push harder," the man said, laughing. Keisuke looked down at his foot, shocked that he hadn't come close to opening the throttle one hundred percent. As another straight opened up, after a quick glance for the police, Keisuke gulped and pushed his foot completely to the floor. The five liter V8 under the hood exploded with sound and fury, sending the rear tires up in smoke and waggling the car's butt side to side as they scrabbled for traction. Keisuke felt his heart stop when the tires got their grip and rocketed the car forward, crushing the air out of his lungs. At the end of the acceleration run he pushed down on the brakes, his eyebrows shooting upwards at the slow response.

"Disc front, drum rear," the man replied as the Camaro slowed down gradually. Keisuke stopped the car at the gas station and sat behind the wheel, his hands shaking as the man filled it up.

"Brute power, but no brakes. Acceleration, but no handling. Front heavy torque monster," he murmured, looking at the guages as he sat there. For an old car, it was definitely impressive.

"I can see what the fuss is about. With a little more attention, I'm sure this would be a formidable machine. Even my FD doesn't make this much torque," he said, running a hand over the dash. His fingers caught against a small plate and he brushed it off, looking at it curiously.

"Kitami Jun," he read, frowning. Was it the car's name? The black Camaro with its broad silver stripes was imposing, but it didn't look like a Jun. The man hopped back inside and pointed toward the direction of the trailer.

"Go back now," he said, then saw where Keisuke had been looking.

"Is man who made engine," he said reverently. Keisuke felt confused. Who was Kitami Jun and why had he tuned an American car from the late 60s? They drove back into the paddock and Keisuke helped the man pull the car up onto its trailer. After a final wave, he headed back to his FD, hands in pockets.

American cars were interesting.

Ryosuke rubbed his eyes, clipboard in hand, as the doctor was speaking.

"The patient complained of pain centralized in the abdomen, which then shifted over time to focus on the right iliac fossa. At this point the patient suffered a loss in appetite and a low fever, with occasional vomiting. Would anyone care to diagnose this patient's issue?" Ryosuke held up his hand, and the doctor, a young man roughly his own age, nodded to him.

"I would palpate the abdomen to see if there was any sign of tenderness, with particular attention to the McBurney's Point. If there was any tenderness or rigidity of the abdomen I would suspect appendicitis, with immediate surgery required if there was any rigidity, which would suggest the appendix has already ruptured and there's a risk for peritonitis," Ryosuke answered. The doctor nodded with a faint smile before continuing with the other interns.

Eight hours later, Ryosuke was resting outside, leaning against the Spirit R with his hands jammed in his pockets. The sound of an opening door made him look up, catching sight of the young doctor leaving the building, making a slow path toward a black Porsche resting not too far away. The man stopped in his tracks and made his way over.

"Takahashi, right?" he asked.

"Yes, doctor..."

"Shima. Shima Tatsuya."

"Is that your car?" Ryosuke asked, pointing at the black Porsche.

"Yes. Is this yours?" he replied, looking at the white Spirit R.

"Yes," Ryosuke answered. The two looked at each other for a moment, sizing each other up, silently noting the appearance of their respective cars. Tatsuya was the first to move, nodding his head quickly and walking off to his Porsche. Ryosuke opened his door, slid inside, and fired up the 20B-REW. After it had warmed up and was idling smoothly he pulled out of the lot, headed for the expressway to take him home. Once on the Shuto line, Ryosuke tuned his mind out and began to relax, feeling the anxiety of the day melt away. It wasn't the fastest way to go home, but it did give him a chance to blow off steam from the day.

A set of headlights grew large in his rearview mirror. With a quick glance, Ryosuke pushed his foot down farther, but was surprised when the lights grew larger. The Spirit R was hurtling along at incredible speed, but the headlights kept growing until they were large in the rearview mirror, the pressure pounding against the back of his neck.

"What?" It was the Porsche!

"Tatsuya," he said in shock, shifting into fifth gear. The two shot along, speedometers creeping steadily toward three hundred kilometers per hour. The Spirit R finally stopped accelerating, stuck at 285 KPH thanks to its rear gear ratio.

"The price of good acceleration on the downhill," Ryosuke said philosophically, watching as the black Porsche swept past him effortlessly.

Pulling into the driveway at home, Ryosuke let the engine idle for a few minutes to cool down and for his mind to finish composing itself. The rush of speed on the Shuto line and the g-forces of Akagi had done its job to wipe away the worries of the day. Sighing happily, he walked inside and sat down in front of his laptop, firing it up. After filing away the notes he had taken during the day in his newly-created medical file, he minimized his work programs and opened up his simulator. Tapping in the information he had observed from the Porsche, he began to work backwards, trying to recreate the car and discover its abilities through the simulator.

"What are you working on?" Keisuke asked, leaning in the open door.

"Something strange I saw this afternoon. It turns out that one of the doctors I'll be working with has a Porsche 930 or 964, and he runs it on the Shuto line. It was fast, too. Passed me by at 285 KPH like it was nothing, headed for 300 KPH or better."

"Black, right?" Keisuke asked. Ryosuke pushed away from his laptop and swiveled his chair to look at his younger brother, leaning nonchalantly in the doorway.

"How do you know that?" Ryosuke asked slowly.

"When I was in my gang we spent a lot of time in Tokyo. When you talk about a Porsche on the Shuto line, you're talking about only one person. I never found out a lot about him, but they call the car Blackbird. He was fast three years ago, and it sounds like he's faster now if he can beat that monster of yours," Keisuke said.

"It wasn't his power that beat me," Ryosuke replied. "I tuned my car for running the mountain passes, not top speed runs. If I spent some time tuning it for top speed, I'm sure I could manage my own. Do you know anything else?"

"Not much. They call it the Wangan. Just like us here, they'll race from midnight to four in the morning before going home. Usually a long distance high speed run, without a lot of turning. Power makes you the winner. Your friend Yoshiro would do well there, I think," Keisuke replied with a slightly sour tone in his voice.

"Thank you, Keisuke. I'll have to do some more research on this. It may sound odd coming from me, but there are times when I'm tired of the mountain passes. I'd like the chance to race on a new battlefield, against fresh opponents. Wouldn't you?" he asked, directing his piercing eyes at his brother. Keisuke flinched slightly, realizing that his unspoken thoughts were completely understood. As he walked to his room, Keisuke stopped, turned around, and stuck his head in his brother's room.

"Do you know anyone named Kitami Jun?" he asked. Ryosuke flinched like he'd been shot, his back frozen completely. Keisuke stepped into the room and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Aniki?" he said, shaking him slightly. Ryosuke was staring at his computer screen, his eyes unfocused as his mind flashed back to the moment in Hayato's workshop and the AE86's piston. Inscribed on the inside of the piston was a tiny logo, a logo that was also on the connecting rods. It had taken him quite some time to hunt it down, and when he had, the results had startled him.

"No," he said quietly. "I need some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow," Ryosuke said. Keisuke left the room, shutting the door behind him, and wondered.

Takumi flopped down in the Impreza, tired and sore. It had been a long night practicing, a short nap, and then the delivery had been twice as large as usual because of the coming holidays. Driving back down Mt. Akina he wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. Yawning, he slowed down for the coming turn, too tired to drift through. Putting his eyes back on the road he caught the yellowed gleam of headlights in his rearview mirror, the same headlights of the blue coupe that had chased him in the hachi-roku.

"I don't want to play," Takumi said, letting his foot off the throttle. The headlights slowed down as well, unwilling to pass. Grumbling, he shook his head.

"Fine, if you want it that way, let's make it that way," he growled, shaking his head again to wake up. Feeling sufficiently alert, he downshifted and floored the throttle, the Impreza lunging ahead with a vengeance. The headlights in the mirror waggled sideways then shot forward until the blue coupe was on the Impreza's bumper.

"Big opening in the front, steel bar across the middle, mirrors on the fenders. I guess that's it," Takumi said, remembering his father's words. To confirm, he swung the car wide and slammed on the brakes, the mystery coupe shooting ahead. Takumi got a solid look at the car, almost all hood with a small cabin, dark wheels and a big exhaust before it hit its brakes, falling behind again. Whoever it was, they didn't want to lead. Takumi launched the car into the gutter, effortlessly putting more distance on the blue coupe. Within three corners it was lagging far behind, but with the straight it caught up once more.

"Who is that guy?" he asked, shaking his head. No matter what trick he tried to get the other to pass, he stayed behind.

"You're observing me," Takumi said, "and I don't like it. You can't keep up in the corners, but you can overtake me on the straights. If you want to observe me, you're going to have to work for it," he said with a tired grin.

Ryosuke looked at the black Porsche, paying particular attention to the tires. Special compound for high speeds, wide, and expensive. They cost as much as the 20B-REW had, and were the mark of a serious top speed racer. Tatsuya stopped and looked at the young man kneeling by his car.

"Can I help you?" he asked quickly. Ryosuke jumped up with a start.

"My apologies, Dr. Shima. I was just observing your car. I'm interested in automobiles myself, and I was admiring your vehicle. You've done quite a few modifications. I expected something a bit more staid for a doctor," Ryosuke said smoothly.

"Should I be driving a Mercedes Benz?" Tatsuya asked flatly, arching an eyebrow at Takahashi. Ryosuke felt himself blush. It wasn't usually his place to be caught out, but he was speaking with a superior and he had been caught red-handed examining the man's car.

"No. What I meant was I'm surprised that I would meet an enthusiast in Tokyo in such a profession. I admire it. I was not relishing having to let go of my habit."

"Ah, your RX-7. I saw it last night, on the Wangan. It has a decent turn of speed, but you stopped accelerating. Were you nearing your exit? There aren't usually police in that section, you know," Tatsuya said easily.

"No, I ran out of gearing. I usually race on mountain passes, so my car is tuned for that. Top speed runs would require a lower rear gear, but that would hurt my acceleration on Mt. Akagi."

"Mt. Akagi? Isn't that a bit of a drive?"

"Yes, it is. It's okay, I like driving," Ryosuke said honestly. Tatsuya smirked.

"Come with me to lunch," he said, getting into his Porsche. Ryosuke opened the passenger door and sat down inside, carefully moving his head so as to avoid the rollcage.

"You're very serious about this, aren't you?" Ryosuke asked, examining the cage and the various modifications inside the cabin, as well as the stiff ride and the slightly muffled growl of the boxer engine.

"As serious as I am about medicine. You may not understand it yet, but when you're responsible for whether someone lives or dies, you treat your own life differently. Some doctors retreat into golf or other sports, some play with the stock market, all to seek a way to burn off their frustrations and their stress. I have Blackbird. I race on the Wangan line, and it feels good to me. But every hobby has a price," he added.

"A price?" Ryosuke asked, fully aware of the cost but curious as to Tatsuya's burden.

"They call it the Devil Z. It's an old Datsun Fairlady Z, blue, with around 620 HP. The car is cursed, Takahashi. You may well laugh at the thought, but you should understand that there are certain things in our world beyond our control. That car has claimed many lives, always being rebuilt and driven again. I was racing one night when the car went out of control and crashed. I stopped to help, but I was too late. I don't stop anymore. The last person that it killed was... close to me. After the accident I took care of his sister, but that family has been destroyed by that car. Now it's being driven again. I have a fascination with it, Takahashi."

They stepped inside a small coffee shop close to the hospital for lunch. After a few minutes of silent eating, Tatsuya spoke up again.

"I'm sure you think I need care," he said with a small chuckle, tapping his forehead. "I may. I keep running the Wangan, looking for him. He challenges my superiority. He is an admirable target," Shima said, the last words of their conversation for that day.

Keisuke topped off the FD, watching as an old blue coupe pulled into the gas station at the pump next to him. A young man roughly Fujiwara's age stepped out, clad in red jacket and blue jeans.

"Interesting car," Keisuke said.

"Thanks," the young man replied, wiping off the windshield.

"What is it?"

"A Fairlady Z," the young man replied.

"Interesting. I haven't seen you before. Where do you drive?" Keisuke asked, leaning against the fender of his FD, arms crossed over his chest.

"Usually the Wangan, but I go to Hakone sometimes. It's kind of boring, all those corners. I came here to see if the corners were more interesting, but I haven't seen anything worth my time yet," he replied.

"Then you haven't raced on Akagi or Akina," Keisuke said confidently.

"I have," came the unenthusiastic reply.

"You have? Against who?" he asked in a shocked voice.

"No one, really. Just a lot of practice. There was an old Corolla that was pretty fast, and an Impreza, but they didn't have any power on the straight. If I had pushed the car in the corners I could have overtaken them, but there wasn't any challenge. I don't think they knew I was racing," he said with another yawn.

"What's your name?" Keisuke asked.

"Asakura Akio," he said.

"Akio, my name is Takahashi Keisuke. I'll challenge you to a race on Mt. Akagi or Mt. Akina, your choice. Pick the day and pick the time."

"Nah," Akio said, getting back in his car, "I don't think it would be any fun."

"You race with me on my course, I'll race with you on yours," Keisuke growled, feeling the anger rising in him. He had never been idly dismissed before and it stung. His words froze the young man.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking at the FD with a skeptical expression on his face.

"I'm sure," Keisuke replied. Akio thought it over for a moment before nodding his head.

"Alright, we can race. Saturday, 10 PM, at Mt. Akagi. Uphill and down, right?" he asked.

"Uphill and down," Keisuke replied. Akio climbed into the blue Z and started up the engine, shifting into gear and driving off. Keisuke listened to the sound of turbochargers and saw the incredible acceleration.

"This is going to be fun," he said with a predatory grin.

"You're racing what?" Ryosuke asked, his exhaustion dulling his shocked response.

"A blue Z, an old one. Uphill and downhill on Mt. Akagi, and then I'm going to race him wherever his home course is. Do you know this person? Another buddy from years ago?" Keisuke asked with a hint of bitterness that soared straight past the tired Ryosuke.

"No. The doctor I'm under at the hospital mentioned a blue Datsun Fairlady Z that he's obsessed with. Turbocharged, right?"

"Yeah," Keisuke said uneasily.

"It's making 620 HP, Keisuke. Twin turbochargers. I wasn't able to get much more out of him, but it's definitely a mean machine with a skilled driver. I don't know what his abilities are on a mountain pass like Akagi, but on the Shuto line, he's the top racer."

"Well, I'll have to do my best. I'd like to do this on my own, bro," he added. Ryosuke looked up in surprise, then shrugged his shoulders and fell into his bed.

"If you say so. Have fun with it, Keisuke. Now let me get to sleep. You can borrow my laptop for the simulator program if you want."

Keisuke picked up the laptop and left the room. Sitting down in his own room he opened up the laptop and looked at the simulator program. Poking along through the program's options, he was surprised to see that Ryosuke had already created a profile for the Fairlady Z. With a few more clicks he had his own FD loaded, the course selected, and everything ready to go. All he had to do was press the button. With a nervous breath, he pushed. The screen exploded into a flurry of calculations before fading into an animation of the two cars. Keisuke watched with his mouth hanging open, then shut the lid on the laptop and promptly went to sleep.

"My brother is intent on racing against the Devil Z," Ryosuke said to Tatsuya as they took their usual lunch break. Tatsuya set down his utensils, wiped his mouth, and looked at him silently for quite some time, his mind obviously seeking the appropriate words.

"You have read Herman Melville?" he asked, a question that completely threw Ryosuke.

"The author? Only what was required in English. Why do you ask?"

"Herman Melville wrote a book about whaling, called Moby Dick. In it one of the characters had an obsession with killing a specific whale. At one point he even wished that his chest was a cannon so he could shoot his heart at it. If you have such a relationship with your brother, let him know this, because once he sinks his teeth into this challenge, he may never wish to let go."

"Can you let go?" Ryosuke asked carefully.

"I don't know," Tatsuya said, rising to leave. Outside, getting into the Porsche, he looked at Ryosuke carefully.

"You speak eloquently about the touge. I'd like to try it. Where is it that you run?"

"Mt. Akagi, it's near my home. Would you like to go this evening?" Ryosuke asked, feeling oddly hopeful.

"Yes, I think I would. If you'd ride with me, I would appreciate your comments," Tatsuya said, parking his car outside the hospital. Watching the doctor walk in, Ryosuke lingered outside for a few moments, wondering at his behavior.

"I haven't been like this since I was a child," he said, looking at the black Porsche. "What is it about Tatsuya that makes me feel like this? I feel like I'm looking at a twisted mirror image of myself." He glanced at his shining white Spirit R, then looked at the ominous black Porsche.

The yellow FD shot down Akagi, engine screaming at redline as the twin turbochargers jammed it full of air, boosting its power to stratospheric limits. The tires screamed for traction as the nimble coupe rocketed around the corner, rear end sliding under near-perfect control. Correcting his countersteer, Keisuke shifted up and buried the throttle, the engine's power rolling in smoothly and thrusting the car forward. Tapping the brakes, he cut the wheel across and hit the throttle for the next corner, initiating his drift and holding it with countersteer and gentle manipulation of the throttle. Barreling down the straight, he put his foot to the floor and groaned.

"Not quite the same," Keisuke said to himself, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was afraid the FD would hear him complaining. His mind flashed back to the brutality of the Camaro, the gut-thumping roar of the engine, the torque shaking the body of the car as it sat still.

Diving into the next corner he pushed harder and harder, the simulation clear in his mind. It would be a close race. The simulation had been unable to provide a clear picture of the battle, lacking the necessary information on the driver. Keisuke still remembered his shock at finding out his brother didn't know everything. At the base of Mt. Akagi he pulled the emergency brake, let go, and hit the throttle, spinning the FD around to point upward. Another hillclimb, another downhill. It would take a lot of practice to be truly lethal.

"I've been coasting," Keisuke said. "I'm fast during battles, but driving here on my home course, I don't push as hard as I can. I leave too much space between my car and the guardrails, and I don't use as much throttle as I could. Complacency dulls me. I need to sharpen my reflexes here." A small fireball belched out of the FD's exhaust as he jammed on the brakes, the engine running rich to protect its apex seals, the unburned fuel igniting in the exhaust. Drifting around another corner he tapped the throttle, pushing harder and harder until he could feel the rear of the car begin to slide past the optimal drift angle. It was a familiar sensation in the Starlet, but in the FD it was new and alien. Keisuke countersteered deeper and pushed down on the throttle harder, trying to coerce the car to stabilize, but it was no good. The yellow FD spun out, sliding across the road and slithering off into a small grassy spot.

Keisuke relaxed his white-knuckled grip on the wheel and leaned back in his seat, breathing a deep sigh of relief and frustration.

"It's been two years since I've spun out in practice," he said, starting the engine again. The rotary took a few extra spins before it caught, but it hummed with power as if nothing had happened. With gentle use of the clutch and throttle, Keisuke bumped the FD back onto the road and continued toward the top, his record run worthless. At the top he looked at his timer, jotted down the times, then rested his head in his hands.

"I don't know if I can do this, but I'm going to try," he said in a determined voice.

"Do you need some help?" a voice asked. Keisuke jumped out in surprise, whirling around to find the speaker. When he saw the black FD lurking in the shadows he relaxed.

"Are you stalking me?" he asked. Kyoko chuckled and walked up to him, bowing her head slightly in greeting.

"No, just concerned. You were being so friendly before, so I thought I would give you another chance to treat me nicely. And I thought I could help you, too," she added.

"How could you help me?" Keisuke asked.

"Practice partner, I guess," she answered.

"That's a nice offer, but..."

"Listen, darling," she began, but caught herself and continued in a more business-like tone, "Keisuke. I care for you, but I'm not sure you're ready to return those feelings. So I won't ask you to. I just want to help you and be near you. That's all. You're up here with a stopwatch going up and down Mt. Akagi, so I know you're practicing. You might do better if you run against me. That's all I'm offering," she said bravely.

"Even if you say so," he muttered, looking at the girl as she stood there. It was plainly obvious she was still interested in him, even after the incident at the diner and at the course the year before. Cars he could understand, but this woman standing before him, still affectionate after he had told her in no uncertain terms he wasn't interested at all, was more difficult to fathom.

"Alright," he said. "Practice. Have you done anything to your FD?" he asked as a pleasantry.

"I'm still using a single turbo setup, but I'm using a ball-bearing turbo with a faster spool-up time. I've lost a little bit of ultimate horsepower but I've gained a lot of response and eliminated a lot of lag. I also lightened the flywheel and switched to a carbon fiber driveshaft and lightweight wheels to decrease reaction time. You won't be able to bump and pass me this time," she said, flashing a brilliant smile.

"Sounds like a challenge," Keisuke said with a flash of a smile. The two FDs lined up and took off, hurtling downhill.

Tatsuya stood in the parking lot, hands in pockets, waiting for Ryosuke to appear.

"I'm sorry I took so long," Ryosuke said apologetically as he hurried out of the building, "but I was bogged down with paperwork. Have you been waiting long?"

"No," Tatsuya replied coolly.

"Would you like to follow me there, or would you just like directions?" Ryosuke asked, somewhat afraid he had insulted his mentor.

"I'll follow you. Is there a place you can store your car while you ride along?"

"Yes, at the peak. You can get a feel for it as we climb up, and then I'll ride with you on the way down and see how you do. I'm kind of curious how you'll do," Ryosuke said honestly. Without another word Shima left for his Porsche and Ryosuke hopped into his Spirit R. The two were quickly on their way, passing slower traffic with ease.

Traveling up Mt. Akagi, Ryosuke felt nervous. He was pushing the Spirit R slightly, just enough to give Tatsuya an idea for the pace, constantly checking his rearview mirror to make sure he was close behind. Sure enough, the black Porsche never wavered, but it never pushed either. At the top, Ryosuke parked the Spirit R and walked over.

"This is it?" Tatsuya asked.

"Yes," Ryosuke replied.

"Hmm. Well, get in. I'd appreciate your comments." Ryosuke entered the car silently, buckling up the harness and preparing himself. Tatsuya seemed like a coiled snake, ready to strike. The engine revved up and Tatsuya popped the clutch, the car shooting forward like a jet.

Ryosuke felt a small amount of concern rising inside him, a feeling that rapidly mutated into fear as the first truly tight corner appeared. Tatsuya was a grip driver, and he was doing his best, but the Blackbird was tuned for the Wangan, not tight winding mountain roads, and it showed in the exertion required from Tatsuya behind the wheel as he fought the powerful black coupe.

"With the rear engine placement and weight balance of the car I can't be too aggressive in attacking the corners or else I risk losing control," he said almost in apology, gasping slightly as he dove into another tight right-hander.

"Understandable. It took me quite some time to learn how to properly drive my car in the mountains. It's very different from high speed travel," Ryosuke said politely, his knuckles turning white and his muscles straining to brace his body.

As the Porsche battled its way down the mountain, Ryosuke began to sense the rhythm of the car slowly beginning to emerge. It was tail heavy, unbalanced, and built totally for high speed runs, but it had incredible grip and massive power. Used properly, it could be a potent weapon on the touge. Ryosuke felt his mind beginning to race over the possibilities, ignoring the fact that he usually looked down on imports. At the base of the mountain, he looked at his mentor and carefully judged the situation.

"Let me drive us back up," Ryosuke said, less of a question and more of an order. Tatsuya arched an eyebrow but unbuckled just the same, leaving the key in the ignition and the Blackbird's powerful boxer motor burbling away. Ryosuke settled behind the wheel, buckled in, and familiarized himself with the controls.

"With the heavy rear and light front, handling is tricky. You risk loss of control when you push it on the uphill, but on the downhill more weight is put on the front of the car and it's possible that with tuning you could neutralize the weight bias. I'm not saying you will have perfect static balance, but you could reach a manageable dynamic balance. As long as you kept moving above a certain speed the car would be more neutral rather than tail happy. The massive horsepower of this engine is a great asset for the uphill, although the turbo lag hurts you. High speed tuning doesn't fall easily into uphill or downhill categories. You would need to alter a number of settings in order to be truly fast," Ryosuke said, "but I can show you how fast you can be right now."

Without another word Ryosuke floored the engine and shot upward, screaming up Mt. Akagi at lethal speeds, pushing the Porsche harder and harder in every turn. At the top he deliberately spun the car, caught it, and rocketed downward, each dip of the throttle resulting in a short lag followed by an almost painful surge of power from the engine that blurred his vision.

"If you tuned down the engine, using a more responsive turbine, and used some ballast to alleviate the car's poor static balance, you would have a devastating machine for the mountain passes," Ryosuke said as they idled next to the Spirit R. Tatsuya slowly relaxed his grip and carefully extricated his legs from their bracing positions as he listened to his student.

"I'm not sure I wish to make so many compromises," he said carefully, "but I will think it over. This is a new style of driving for me, but it interests me deeply. Would you drive this course in your car now?" Tatsuya asked. Ryosuke nodded and walked over to the Spirit R. Strapping in, he looked at Tatsuya.

"This isn't going to be gentle. This isn't going to be nice. My Spirit R is built for the touge, and I've raced like this all my life. Are you ready?" he asked. The doctor nodded, wrapping his hands tightly around whatever grips he could find, pushing his legs against the center console and the door.

"Ready."

Keisuke floored the throttle, relishing his twin turbo FD and its immediate response. Even with Kyoko's modifications, her single turbo took time to spool up. In most corners she was able to simply keep her foot to the floor, ignoring any subtleties of throttle manipulation and putting a significant gap on him, but as the turns got tighter, the yellow FD was gaining once more. Kyoko glanced in her rearview mirror at the approaching rotary monster and tapped her brakes slightly, just enough to check her FD's speed and make the corner. Keisuke tapped his own brakes for a fraction of a second less time, gaining a meter and a half on her.

The two FDs screamed through a wide turn, attempting a parallel drift with the black FD in the lead. Midway through the turn, slightly after the apex, they switched positions and barreled down a short straight, Keisuke's FD finally edging even with Kyoko's.

"You're not fast enough," Keisuke said, smiling as he creeped past Kyoko. Looking ahead his eyes widened. The approaching turn was tighter than he remembered, with debris on the inside. If he had been in the Starlet he would have been driving much slower and would have made the corner, but in the powerful FD, it would be close. Kyoko's FD had long disappeared as the yellow FD plunged deeper and deeper into the danger zone, brakes almost locked up as Keisuke fought desperately to scrub off as much speed as he could.

"Darling!" Kyoko cried, watching in horror as the FD understeered, headed straight for the guardrail. Keisuke kept his foot down, trusting in the FD's powerful ABS system, massive rotors and six piston calipers to slow him down. The tires screamed a tortured wail as clouds of rubber smoke billowed around the car, obscuring his tail lights from view. Kyoko slowed her car and jumped out, running toward the FD.

"Darling! Darling! Are you okay?" she shouted, throwing open the FD's door and looking down at a shaken but laughing Keisuke.

"I'm fine," he said, still chuckling. "I'm fine. Just forgot what car I was in for a second there. I'll be fine," he said again, holding her hand as he shakily exited the car, looking at the FD stopped a half meter from the guardrail.

"Lesson learned for the evening," Keisuke said as he shivered in the cold air of the approaching winter.

"How about we go get something to eat?" he suggested, getting back into the FD resting his arm on the door. Kyoko nodded, still a little pale.

"I don't know how you can be hungry after almost crashing your car, but okay. Let's go eat. Will you lead the way?" she asked. He nodded in reply and took off, his pace as unrelenting as it had been moments before sliding toward the rail. Kyoko pushed the FD harder and harder, desperately trying to keep up with Keisuke. It was a difficult quarter of an hour, but they were soon outside the restaurant, engines idling smoothly in unison to allow their turbochargers to cool down.

"I didn't know they had an Anna Miller's here," Kyoko said.

"It's new. Do you like it? I'm not really hungry, I just want some pie. If you don't have a sweet tooth, we can find somewhere else," Keisuke offered.

"No, that's okay," Kyoko answered, shutting off her FD and walking inside. The two sat down and were soon served, sipping at coffee and uneasily pecking at a few sugar-laden confections.

"Have you ever gone flower viewing?" Kyoko asked, stirring her coffee with her spoon and gazing deep into the milky swirl.

"No," Keisuke said with a laugh. "I would rather drive my car. Why? Have you gone?"

"I'd like to, but it's kind of silly to sit on a blanket and look at a tree by myself. Would you like to go tomorrow?" she asked, raising her soulful brown eyes and smiling at him. Keisuke felt his heart skip a beat, his mind racing a mile a minute as he stuttered.

"Sure," he choked out, surprised at his eager reaction.

"Sweet," she said, licking her spoon and setting it down on her napkin. "I like this pie."

A few tables away, Akio looked up and grinned slightly, catching Reina's attention and pointing over her shoulder to the spiky blonde sitting a few booths down, talking quietly with a pleasant brunette girl.

"Who's that?" Reina asked.

"My next target, Akio replied. "I was filling up at one of the gas stations around here and he challenged me to a race. One of the local hotshots, I think. He drives a yellow RX-7."

"Oh. Are you racing on the highway here?" she asked.

"No, I'm racing on his mountain. Lots of boring curves," he said, taking another sip from his cup. Reina frowned. For boring curves, Akio usually drove with total concentration and monumental intensity, trying to keep the Devil Z under control. Its speed through the corners of Hakone was unreal, like watching a movie unfold, with no sensation of speed except for the tremendous g-forces and the ever-present rush of wind.

"How do you think you'll do?" she asked pleasantly, casting an eye toward the racer's companion with a smile. Almost like a mirror.

"Too good. My Z won't be defeated, especially by a rotary. They can't handle boost pressure at all. They like blowing apex seals. He's probably lucky to have four hundred horsepower, if that much." Reina's mind refocused on the conversation at that.

"Eh? Only four hundred?" she said, very surprised.

"Yeah. I don't know, the more I drive around here, the more strange things I see. I was overtaken last night on Mt. Akina by a little white Corolla. I've been following him for the past few nights, but tonight's the first time he was able to pass me. I wonder what they've done to that car."

"It's only a Corolla, I wouldn't worry about it," she replied, her eyes watching the traffic outside. Suddenly she stiffened in her seat and pointed.

"Blackbird!" she cried. Akio looked out the window and, sure enough, the dangerous black Porsche was idling in the street, a stranger in the passenger seat.

"Where's he going?" Akio asked, looking at the blonde racer and his girl get up and walk outside.

"Bro, what are you doing in that?" Keisuke asked with a smile, taking in the impressive machine, its engine burbling with the typical boxer idle.

"Showing a friend how we race in Gunma," Ryosuke replied. "This is Shima Tatsuya. Let me introduce you to my brother, Takahashi Keisuke."

"Hello," Tatsuya said politely, leaning low to see out the passenger window and make eye contact with Keisuke.

"Hello," he replied. "How do you like the touge?"

"It's interesting," Tatsuya said. "In some ways it isn't nearly as demanding as the Wangan, but in others it is all-involving. Is this a popular style of racing?"

"I think so," Keisuke answered. "I don't know if my brother told you or not, but we're members of Project D, and we travel all across the country to set the fastest course times on our challengers' courses, defeating them and leaving them with a record time they can't surpass."

"No, I don't believe that was mentioned," Tatsuya said, glancing at Ryosuke. "At any rate, your brother Ryosuke has been kind enough to offer his services in tuning my car for the mountain passes, with as little damage as possible to my Wangan abilities. I would enjoy the pleasure of your competition, Keisuke. I believe you still owe me," he added before letting his foot off the clutch and driving away.

Kyoko turned to Keisuke and looked at him curiously.

"I may have stolen a set of his wheels at one point in the past," Keisuke admitted sheepishly.

Inside the diner, Akio was fixated. The racer had gone and spoken with Blackbird for a number of minutes, acting as if they knew each other, and then they had parted company, smiling. It was bizarre enough for the Blackbird to be so far from the Wangan, but to be linked with the mystery racer and his yellow FD?

"I don't understand what's going on," he confessed. "I didn't know that he was friends with Blackbird. This might be harder than I thought," he sighed, draining his cup. Reina shrugged her shoulders and offered a helpful smile.

"You've defeated Blackbird before. The Canary shouldn't be as hard as that," she chuckled.

"The Canary?" Akio asked.

"Yellow car, right?" Reina replied with a smile. Akio let himself laugh, then shook his head and stood up.

"I'm going to go practice. Do you want to come?"

"Of course!"

Standing outside in the cold, Akio rested a hand on the long blue hood of the Devil Z and stood still for a few moments. The warmth of the metal was in strong contrast to the bitter cold that swirled around him. With the cold air, the turbochargers would be more responsive and more powerful, and he wouldn't have to worry as much about overheating the L28 motor. Bored and stroked to 3.1 liters, it was a big engine making a lot of heat, and the turbochargers added even more. The radiator and cooling setup was fine for the 280 kilometers per hour of the Wangan, but at low speeds in the mountains, there was always a tiny amount of concern for the car in the back of his mind. Akio sighed and climbed in, starting up the inline six and letting it come up to operating temperature.

"It's not late enough for the Corolla to be out," Akio said, "but we might see some of the other local cars. There's a small racing group that practices around this time. Do you want to go play with them?" he asked, smiling devilishly.

"I didn't think you played well with others," Reina responded. With a slight grin, Akio put the Z into gear and feathered the throttle, taking off into the night with the powerful thrust 620 HP to the rear wheels could provide.

"Itsuki you jerk, who said you could pass me?" Kenji said, smiling as he punched him. Itsuki rubbed his shoulder and shrugged.

"Sorry Kenji, but I took the inside line faster than you did. I guess I'm getting better," he said with a broad grin. One by one he was getting faster than the other Speedstars and truly earning his membership, rather than being tolerated because he knew Takumi. It was an addictive feeling, and the turbocharged AE85 sitting behind him was responsible for his giddy rush of happiness.

"I liked it better when it was naturally aspirated," Kenji grumbled, walking back to his car, hands jammed deep in his pockets. Iketani watched him, then chuckled and turned to Itsuki.

"Feel like your luck will hold out for another run?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at his S13. Mako had spent considerable time with him tuning the car and practicing until he was good enough to challenge her. Itsuki was nervous, but a glance at his AE85 gave him confidence.

"I don't know if I'll win, but I'd like to battle."

"Good enough for me. Down and back up again as fast as we can, right?" Iketani said, walking toward his car. Itsuki nodded but stopped when a set of headlights appeared at the far end of the road, coming closer rapidly.

"I don't recognize that car..." he muttered, walking to the side of the road before focusing further. It was a small blue coupe with a long hood, and a man and woman were inside. The driver side window rolled down and the man, a little bit older than Itsuki, stuck his head out.

"Do you know anyone that would like to race down the mountain?" he asked.

"We were just about to have a battle," Itsuki replied, crossing his arms. He didn't like this man's attitude.

"Good. Let me race the winner. My name's Akio, by the way," he added, pulling his car to the side of the road and shutting off the engine. Itsuki shook his head and walked to the 85, got in, and pulled up to the starting line.

"Who's that?" Iketani asked through his open window.

"Says his name is Akio. He wants to race the winner. I don't like it, Iketani-senpai."

"Don't worry about it, Itsuki. Let's just have fun," he said, blipping his throttle. Kenji walked up and took his place.

"San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" he shouted, standing clear as the two turbocharged cars lunged forward.

Itsuki kept his foot down, cringing at the slow takeoff of the AE85, but his eyes were fixed on the tachometer, and as the needle swept higher he braced himself for the impact. The turbocharger finally spooled up, kicking in with enough power to waggle the rear of the car and jet the hachi-go forward with demon speed. Iektani's S13 was in sight but barely, his more responsive engine getting the best of the hachi-go off the line. The first corner appeared and Itsuki kept his foot to the floor, trusting in the grip of his tires to make it through.

Although Takumi would always be known for his flashy drift style of driving, Itsuki had practiced grip driving night after night until it was second nature to him, and it was how he drove. The AE85 shot through the turn, helped by the traction of its wide tires, and staggered forward after the rapidly-fleeing S13. The short straight was devoured quickly, the single cam motor's great torque pushing the 85 forward faster and faster. Itsuki downshifted using the heel-toe technique he had perfected a few days earlier, using engine braking and a light tap on the brake pedal to help his car make the corner, rolling into the gas a little bit before the apex to take advantage of the turbocharger's slow response. As he clipped the apex of the turn the turbo kicked in, thrusting him forward again, barely in control but making up some of his lost ground against the S13.

Iketani glanced in his mirrors and felt his happy attitude slip a little bit.

"If I'm overtaken by Itsuki, I'll never be able to show my face at work," he said, despairing his situation. Shaking his head to clear his mind he pushed the S13 harder, reminding himself that he was the limit, not the car.

"My S13 can corner faster than this. My tires are better. I'm just afraid to trust the car," he murmured, pushing harder and harder to get past his reluctance. Itsuki was still gaining, throwing his car into the turns and accelerating down the straights, using his laggy turbo to the best of its abilities.

As the two cars flashed past the midpoint of Akina, they were dead even, racing nose to tail, Iketani's S13 just barely hanging onto the lead.

"I don't understand," Iketani said, downshifting to take the next corner. "How can Itsuki be faster than me?" He let the rear begin to slide, countersteering to keep the car stable. To his great horror, the turbo Levin passed on the inside.

"Iketani-senpai is getting much better at drifting," Itsuki said, "but he uses drift in corners where he should use grip. He can clear some corners faster than I can, but the fastest line for someone of our skill level is to use grip." With a final prod of the pedal, the AE85 was firmly in the lead as the two cars approached the five hairpins.

Itsuki looked over at the gutters on either side of the road but felt his heart weaken a little bit. "Those are for Takumi, not me," he said finally, deciding to continue using grip. As they streaked over the finish line, Itsuki smiled. The S13 was a car length behind.

"Well Itsuki," Iketani said as he pulled his car up next to the 85, "I never thought you'd beat me. I guess I need to practice more. Ready for the run to the top?" Itsuki nodded, revved his engine, and took off with the S13 chasing close behind.

Reina sat down on the guardrail, hugging her jacket close against the bitter wind and grimacing at Akio. He was enjoying the cold, letting the Z warm up for the battle.

"I think I'll enjoy this. It's not the Corolla that I see in the mornings, but it seems decent. I'm surprised how hard some of these battles can be," he admitted.

"Hard? For the Z?"

"On the uphill I can't be stopped, but on the downhill, I can't use all of the Z's power. It wants to run, but it feels like I'm trapped in a cage. I say that it's boring, but it feels dangerous," Akio confessed, shooting a fearful glance at the Z.

"Dangerous?"

"There's more to that car than I can explain. You know that. This Devil Z was born out of anguish and shame as a monument to someone's skill, one last shining example of his abilities, the perfection of his craft. This car is better than I am, and I know that. I can only hope to control it, hang on for the ride," Akio said, standing up and walking toward the Z as he saw the AE85 returning, the S13 slightly behind.

"Am I racing you then?" he asked.

"I guess so," Itsuki replied, feeling unsure of himself. Iketani nodded.

"Don't worry Itsuki, you'll do well. You're a member of the Speedstars, after all." The two cars lined up and Iketani stood between them to count off. On one side there was Itsuki's little AE85, its turbo spinning happily, while on the other side was the dark blue evil-looking Fairlady Z, oozing power.

"San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" Iketani roared over the sound of the Z's engine. The two cars revved up and shot off, the Z's rear tires vomiting smoke as it accelerated, rapidly outstripping the AE85.

Itsuki felt his jaw drop as he saw the blue coupe rocket forward, devouring the short straight with sickening ease.

"I won't give up. Power isn't important on the downhill, it's skill!" He pushed harder, ignoring the fact that he couldn't even see the blue Z's tail lamps anymore. The AE85 shot through the corner, leaning heavily thanks to the many still-stock suspension pieces. It was the first time Itsuki felt bad that he had spent the money on the turbo kit rather than springs and swaybars. With all the skills he possessed he kept trying, pushing as hard as he could, driving the car as hard as was possible, until the sweat poured from his forehead and his shirt clung to his back.

Entering the five hairpins, Itsuki was shocked to catch a tiny glimpse of the Z's tail lamps, glowing brightly in the night as the blue coupe hauled down from speed to make the corner. Itsuki dove through the corner as fast as he could, gaining on the Z. The Z was a little clumsy as it fought its way through the turns, tuned as it was for high speed handling.

"This sucks," Akio said honestly, turning the wheel as rapidly as he could. There was no denying the fact that the Z was tuned for high speed, and in the tight corners of Akina the car was simply too unwieldy. The slower steering rack that was perfect for high speed stability hurt the Z's steering response, taking too many turns to bring the front wheels from one direction to another. The suspension setup was more for high speed stability than low speed maneuverability, costing Akio the quick responses needed to handle the course.

Itsuki managed to draw up to the rear bumper of the Z, his lights shining in the Z's rearview mirrors. He tried to dodge inside, but the Z blocked. At the third hairpin Itsuki went wide, letting the rear slide a bit as he tried to angle his car better for the next turn. On the fourth hairpin Itsuki's 85 was positioned on the inside, and he was able to take the lead. Akio cursed, forced to keep the Z slow in order to clear the fifth hairpin.

"Time to shine," he murmured as the tight hairpin ended, dumping them on a nice straightaway. With his foot to the floor, the Devil Z's 3.1 liter twin turbo motor screamed with power, thrusting the car forward so quickly that Itsuki felt its airstream rock the AE85.

At the finish line Itsuki hung his head, ashamed to have come in last. The blue Z was already disappearing up the hill again, in search of fresh blood. Kenji was at the finish line, his eyes wide in shock.

"Itsuki, how were you able to keep so close?" he asked, running up to him.

"What do you mean? I lost," Itsuki replied, getting out of the 85.

"Sure you lost. That car had over six hundred horsepower, Itsuki. You were only five seconds behind it! You're incredible! Only Takumi could do better." Kenji looked at him with newfound admiration, patting his hand on the AE85's hood. Itsuki felt pride swelling inside him, and respect for his hachi-go.

Ryosuke wiped the sweat from his forehead and set down his wrench, looking at the Porsche with no small amount of awe as it rested on the lift, wheels stacked carefully to the side. Tatsuya was looking on curiously, keeping track of every alteration that had been made.

"How long will this take to return to my Wangan tuning?" he asked, making notes on a small pad of paper.

"Now that we know what settings to shoot for, it'll be pretty simple. Just adjust your coilovers, brake bias, downforce settings, and alignment. I can't do much about the turbo lag or the gearing of your transmission, so you'll have to be satisfied with running these passes in second gear. I've got a set of wheels that'll fit your hubs and clear your coilovers. They're a smaller diameter, with smaller tires on them. That'll change your effective gear ratio because of the different diameters, but your speedometer and odometer will be off. It'll help you a little bit without having to open up your transaxle and change gearing." Ryosuke sat back and took a drink from his bottle of water.

"I'd like to try this out on Akagi. Have you been able to help with the balance?" he asked, remembering the disconcerting feeling of the front end lightening dramatically, the tires losing their bite on the road.

"Still a little tail heavy, but I think you should be able to manage it. The alignment is the big thing, that's what will sharpen up the car's low speed response. I've changed toe, caster, and camber angles to benefit handling. If you try and run above 225 KPH, I won't be held responsible," Ryosuke said, letting the car down off the lift, new wheels installed and ready to go.

"Why did you get involved in racing like this?" Tatsuya asked, running his hands over the gleaming Blackbird.

"For a number of reasons," Ryosuke replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well for me it was to relieve stress, at first. Then as I got faster and faster, it was to be recognized as the king of the Wangan line. I was alone at the top for a number of years until that Z appeared. Now my dominance is no longer complete. I've lost to him, a number of times. And yet when I had the chance to eliminate him completely, I sacrificed my own car to save him."

"What do you mean?" Ryosuke asked.

"A few months ago the Z was stolen by the sister of the previous owner. She took off and made a run for the harbor, with the intent of ditching the car in the ocean and ending its life. Moments before falling in, she bailed out of the car, a few scratches and bruises but nothing serious. The Z rocketed onward, and at the last possible second I collided into it with my car, knocking the Z to safety, but damaging it and my own car in the process. That's why my body panels are made of aluminum and carbon fiber, because I damaged them. I could have let that car hit the water, and that would have been the end of it. The end of its winning streak, the end of its killing spree, the end of my challenger. And the end of my fun."

"Fun?"

"You must have felt it too, at some point in your racing career. Don't lie, Takahashi. It gets lonely at the top, and you stagnate there, getting stale and feeling old. People like us need challengers that are wild and undisciplined, fresh and deadly. Dealing with Akio I learned more about my own abilities than I did before. I improved more in a few months of chasing him than I did in the years before. People like us, the master strategists, need emotional drivers to shake us up. Don't you agree?" Tatsuya asked, looking at him intensely.

"I do. I have my own Akio here in Gunma. He would be an admirable opponent for you now that your Porsche has been retuned for the mountain pass."

"I'll race him if you want, Ryosuke, but my target is you."

"Awfully trusting of you to let me work on your car then," he said with a smile.

"You and I are men of honor. You take pleasure in making your opponent as difficult as possible, don't you? I've seen your RX-7. There's nothing like that here to challenge you. Not your brother, not this challenger of yours. I think the reason you spent so much time working on my car is because you knew you had a chance to create something that could beat you, and you're looking forward to the battle."

"I am," he said quietly, setting down his tools. "How much practice time would you like?"

"A week. Let me race this challenger of yours, and after I'm through with him, we'll battle."

"And if you lose?"

"If I lose to your challenger, I will know more about you than if I've won. I'll still challenge you, Ryosuke, win or lose. Do you accept?"

"I do."

Takumi looked at Itsuki with arched eyebrows.

"Five seconds?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at his friend and make sure he wasn't exaggerating like he usually did.

"And what kind of car was it again?"

"Iketani said that it was a Fairlady Z. It was blue, and turbocharged. It made over six hundred horsepower, Takumi, and I was able to catch up and pass him in the corners. He blew past me on the straight, but I was able to pass him in my hachi-go!" Itsuki wiggled in his seat, a huge grin on his face.

"Kyooooo!" he shouted happily, stopping suddenly as if he had been switched off.

"What's wrong?" Takumi asked, downshifting to manage the next corner.

"A Porsche 930 turbo!" Itsuki cried excitedly, bracing himself as the Porsche shot past, its speed so insane that it rocked the Corolla as it passed. A white Spirit R RX-7 soon followed, a small flame bursting out of its tailpipe as it downshifted to make the turn. A yellow NSX Type-R brought up the rear of the procession, aggressively attempting to pass the Spirit R as it went.

"Oh my gosh!" Itsuki shouted, happy out of his mind. "Who were those drivers? They're incredible! Such insane speed! Perfect control!"

"The Spirit R was Ryosuke's, the NSX was Yoshiro's, but I don't know who's driving the Porsche. He must be good to be in the lead with those two chasing him. That's a lot of pressure to deal with," Takumi said, remembering the intense pounding pressure he had felt whenever Ryosuke chased him.

"I've never seen a Porsche on these roads. They're not very good for it," Itsuki set, settling back into his seat.

"Why do you say that? It's a foreign sports car, isn't it? It must be very good," Takumi responded, not even attempting to catch up to the three supercars as they rocketed downward.

"It has its engine in the rear, which makes it handle weird. The rear of the car attempts to come around and the front end is light, so it can be dangerous. They can be grip-driven very well, but they can't drift. They're very good for high speed runs though."

"Hmm," Takumi said, burning the image of the Porsche into his mind. "What would it take to make them run well?"

"Challenge on the downhill. The weight shifts to the front and helps keep the front tires planted so you don't have to worry about oversteer as much. The uphill would be kind of scary in a car like that. They've got a lot of power, Takumi. Naturally aspirated boxer engine, a high rev big displacement version of the Impreza's engine."

"How big?"

"A six cylinder engine of three liters or more," Itsuki said, blushing. "I wish I knew more, but it's a foreign car. There was one in the professional drift circuit, it can't drift without special tires for the rear. Once the rear end gets out of control on normal tires, it can't be controlled again. The car spins out. The special tires help it drift, but no one else can buy them."

"Sounds like a real challenge. I'd kind of like to race something like that," Takumi said, his pace quickening slightly as his blood pressure rose, his racer's blood beginning to boil.

"Why?" Itsuki asked.

"Every car I've challenged has been made here, in Japan. If different people have different driving styles, different countries must have different kinds of cars. Daichi Yoshiro, the man in the yellow NSX, he tuned his car like Americans do and he almost defeated Ryosuke. There was a margin of half a second or less. No offense, Itsuki, but I think I'm running out of challenges," Takumi sighed as he upshifted, sending the AE86 screaming downhill faster and faster until Itsuki began to grow nervous. With the tachometer buried Takumi tapped the brakes hard and swung the car through the corner, drifting at an incredibly deep angle, more for show than speed. Catching the car Takumi let it come out the other way, pushing the car wider and wider until it was almost sliding completely sideways down the street.

"You've got great car control," Itsuki said, forcing himself to relax.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry Itsuki, I was just playing," Takumi responded, waking up from his daydream. That Porsche had been chased by Ryosuke. Maybe he knew who it was, and if he could be challenged.

At the base of Mt. Akina Takumi caught another glimpse of the Porsche, this time trailing the RX-7 as the three cars made their way off to a local diner. Takumi dropped Itsuki off at his house and then went home, his mind ticking over as he went. Parking the AE86, he looked at the Impreza and sighed. Kneeling down, Takumi reached out and felt the width of the tire with his hand, then compared it to the hachi-roku's.

"I use a 195-width tire, but the Impreza has a 225. That's an extra thirty millimeters of contact patch," he said. The light flicked on and Bunta appeared on the step.

"What are you doing to my car?" he asked.

"Can those tires go on my hachi-roku?" Takumi asked.

"No," Bunta replied, turning around and going back inside. Takumi rose and followed him into the living room.

"What do you mean? Why not?" Takumi pressed.

"Because they're mine and I don't want you ruining them," came the grumpy reply.

"But is it possible to put them on the hachi-roku?"

"Not with your wheels. You need a wider wheel with a different offset in order to run wheels those wide without damaging your suspension. If you used those tires on your current wheels, they would deform too much and you would have difficulty controlling the car," Bunta explained simply.

"Oh. Do you know anything about Porsche?"

"They're good cars, for the most part. German. Designed for fast roads and grip driving. They have their engine all the way in the back, which makes them handle strangely. Properly tuned they can be vicious, and a lot of people that can afford to spend that much have great success racing them. If the driver doesn't know what he's doing, they're deadly. Because they have so much weight in the back, if the rear end loses grip and starts to oversteer, it's very easy to lose control of the car and spin out."

"Can the hachi-roku, well... never mind," Takumi said, walking up the stairs. Bunta's eyebrows arched slightly, but then in a moment of kindness, he got up with the Impreza's key and threw it up the stairs.

"You may not like it, but it might be the only way to win."

"What if I don't want to win?" Takumi responded, throwing the keys back to his astonished father. "I'm tired of people forcing me into the Impreza any time some unstoppable opponent appears on Akina or Akagi or anywhere else. The hachi-roku is my car, isn't it? If it's my car, truly my car, then it's my decision to race it, isn't it? Win or lose I feel the best behind the wheel of the hachi-roku." Bunta looked at his son, squinted slightly, then shrugged his shoulders.

"It's your choice," he said over his shoulder, disappearing into the other room. Takumi trudged up the steps and fell down on his bed.

"I don't know why I feel like this, but I feel like my loyalty is torn. I owe the hachi-roku for what its taught me, but everyone else keeps pushing me to drive a new car. With the new cage the car is so much stronger, I feel like it has more left in it. I don't think the hachi-roku has been maxed out yet, but the Impreza is faster. I can't lie," he said, his mind running over his last attack on Akina, the Impreza reaching the bottom eight seconds sooner than the 86. He turned over in his bed and huffed.

"I can make the hachi-roku faster. I need to practice more."

Keisuke smiled slightly, his blindingly yellow FD resting at the top of Mt. Akagi, engine idling with the normal rotary whir slightly louder with its less-restrictive exhaust. The blue S30Z was a few meters away, its own twin turbo inline six ticking quietly, idling smoothly.

"When do you want to start?" Akio asked, covering a yawn.

"Might as well start now. You have someone down at the finish?" Keisuke asked into the radio, waiting for the reply.

"Ready down here," came the answer. "Clear of traffic, no issues." Keisuke handed the radio to Kenta and stepped into his car. The two powerful coupes revved, their engines roaring with power and blowoff valves screaming into the cold autumn air. Kenta slid between the two and raised his arm.

"San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" he shouted, flinching as the two cars accelerated with incredible violence, rear ends wagging as their tires fought for traction. At the end of the short straight the blue Z had catapulted into the lead, leaving Keisuke's FD trailing far behind.

"I won't let you win this easily!" Keisuke shouted, diving deep into the curve and pushing the FD for all it was worth, twin turbos forcing it forward as quickly as possible, his shortened gearing helping to reduce the time he spent out of boost. At the apex of the corner the Z's unstoppable lead began to slow, until at the exit of the corner Keisuke's FD had gained a few precious meters. At the next straight the Z gained again, its incredible power pushing the car forward with unreal speed. Keisuke felt his eyebrows shoot upward and his mouth hang open in shock as the ancient blue Z quickly disappeared around the next corner.

"What kind of devil is this?" he asked, pushing harder. The FD was screaming toward redline when the Z's dim tail lamps appeared diving into the next corner. It had incredible power, and traction to match.

"This car's speed is unreal," Keisuke muttered, aching to get close enough to analyze its actions. On the straights it shot into the lead, propelled forward with enough thrust to make a rocket feel inadequate. In the corners it used grip driving with no attempt at drift, in fact the car's whole method of driving was extremely conservative.

"Probably necessary with all that power," Keisuke said, remembering Ryosuke's comments and the simulation. The laptop's prediction made him growl and push the FD harder, feeling his anger rising. There was no reason that ancient piece of steel should be ahead of him on the touge.

Akio hit the brakes to bleed off speed before turning the wheel and feathering into the throttle to clear the corner. The Devil Z was an incredible machine, but until last night it had been tuned for the Wangan. After narrowly defeating the AE85, he had spent hours retuning the coilovers, brake bias, and the carburetors to optimize the Z for mountain passes. There were still some issues, and it hurt not to be able to reach 300 KPH, but it would only be for a short time.

"The midpoint is approaching. I can enjoy myself there," he said, hitting the brakes again and feeling the powerful four wheel disc brakes hauling the Z down from speed in order to make the next corner. Just a few more corners and then he could unleash the power of the Devil.

Keisuke could feel the FD gaining on his opponent, slowly at first and then hand over fist. Something was changing that was letting him make up ground. Was the Z driving slower on purpose? Shaking his head he charged forward, diving recklessly into the attack in an all-out chance at passing. At first he was two corners back, then one, and now they were charging down the straight side to side, the FD edging slowly past.

"Something isn't right," Keisuke said, "it's a trap. He's fastest on the straights. Something's wrong here. What's he making me do?" He glanced over at Akio, who was focused entirely forward, every fiber of his body straining to control the Z. Keisuke kept his foot down, slowly passing the Devil Z and taking the lead. Drifting through the corner he suddenly saw why the Z had been holding back. There was a pile of leaves on the inside and outside of the corner, swept there by the wind. With the FD in full drift, the rear wheels would hit the leaves and lose traction. It would be all over.

Keisuke's brain shut down as his body and instinct took over, manipulating the throttle, brakes, and emergency brake while steering as quickly and with as much precision as possible, fighting to narrow the FD's drift angle and keep the tires out of the leaves. His efforts were almost successful, but the rear wheels caught one last patch of leaves and suddenly jerked the FD around, letting the Z pass and forge ahead with its incredible speed. If anything, it was driving faster now while the FD screamed sideways down the straight. Keisuke recovered his coupe and pointed it after the Z, forcing his foot to the floor in a desperate attempt to catch up.

"Fujiwara, would you come and meet me?" Ryosuke asked. After a few moments he nodded and shut the phone, putting it away and turning to Tatsuya.

"He's going to come. You'll have a chance to speak with him and, if you choose, challenge him to a race. I'm going to warn you, your car still has a dangerous amount of lift-throttle oversteer. If you take your foot off the throttle your rear end will slide out, and I don't know if you'll be able to react fast enough to get it back under control with the weight of the engine affecting your balance."

"Let me worry about that, Takahashi," Tatsuya said as he walked back to the Blackbird. Within half an hour the panda Trueno arrived, its high compression engine and open exhaust noticeable from kilometers off. Tatsuya listened to the car's bizarre idle, a mixture of the individual throttle bodies, the high compression pistons, the header and exhaust, and shook his head.

"I'm used to turbo cars," he admitted to Ryosuke, "these all-engine cars sound unrefined. Is he truly your opponent, or are you doing this to make me feel better before bringing out your challenger?"

"Sounds like you have a bit of an ego," Ryosuke replied. "This is one of two people that I know of that can defeat me. One is my brother, and the other is this man here, Fujiwara Takumi. We've raced before, and he has defeated me with that very AE86. I know on the Wangan line they're little more than rolling road blocks, but here, on the curves of Mt. Akagi and Mt. Akina, he is the top dog."

"If you say so, I'll respect your wisdom," Tatsuya said, stepping forward to greet the approaching Fujiwara.

"My name is Shima Tatsuya," he said, bowing slightly.

"Fujiwara Takumi," came the response. He glanced over behind Tatsuya and saw the Porsche.

"So you're the one that owns that car?" Takumi asked, looking with intense interest at it. When Shima nodded he walked closer, running his hands over the fenders, looking at the tires, and gravitating toward the rear of the vehicle to admire the large spoiler.

"Is it true that the engine is in the back?" he asked.

"Yes," Tatsuya replied, opening the rear of the car to show him. Nestled under the black curved bonnet was a large and powerful-looking fuel-injected flat six.

"How much power does it make?"

"Anywhere from 300 HP to 600 HP, depending on the tune. Takahashi Ryosuke has helped me repurpose the car's tuning for mountain passes. I usually do top speed runs on the Wangan line, approaching 300 KPH. For that I use all the power I can, but for here, I haven't decided yet. I wanted to challenge you to a battle, Fujiwara Takumi. Do you accept?"

Takumi looked at the stranger. He was dressed in black, somewhat pale as if he spent a lot of time indoors, thin, and had the casual attitude of someone with a large amount of money. He gave off almost the same aura as Ryosuke, but different, as if his was of the same intensity but a different color. The Porsche was monstrous. Takumi remembered seeing it lead the Spirit R and the NSX Type-R downhill, so not only did it have tremendous power and grip but its driver had skill. It would be an incredible challenge.

"When and where?" he asked.

"I was hoping tonight, right now, on this mountain," Tatsuya responded, waving a hand toward Mt. Akina. Takumi's eyebrows arched upward slightly in surprise.

"Is this not acceptable?" Tatsuya asked calmly. He was polite but purposeful, and he wouldn't give up until he had his answer. Takumi got the uncomfortable feeling that just under his polite exterior there was a razor-sharp blade that would not be deflected from its target.

"I'm low on fuel. If I can have a few moments to fill up, then yes, I'll race," Takumi said, unable to believe his words. It was almost unbelievable to be pitched into a battle against the very car he was admiring earlier. Fumihiro handed over a can of fuel, and Yoshiro left in his NSX with radio in hand to cover the finish line, while Ryosuke and Tatsuya made their way to the peak. Takumi finished filling upthe hachi-roku and looked at Fumihiro.

"I don't think this is real," Takumi admitted.

"Oh?"

"I wanted to race against that Porsche when I first saw it. My dad offered me his own car to battle with because it had more power, but I turned it down to race the hachi-roku. Now that I'm here and I've seen the car up close," he admitted, "I think I may have made a mistake."

"There are no mistakes, Fujiwara, just choices we make below the conscious level," Fumihiro said pointedly before taking the empty can from him and offering a small smile.

"What's the point in racing if you're always winning?" he said before walking away. Takumi checked the oil level on the hachi-roku, then shut the hood and got inside. Starting up the engine he let his forehead rest on the wheel for a moment as he collected his thoughts.

"Fumihiro is right." He started up the engine and climbed to the peak, his racing blood beginning to boil.

Keisuke downshifted, his clutch foot moving with the speed and precision that had come with over a year of practice in the FD, the tachometer needle swinging upward and the twin turbochargers cramming air into the rotary engine. The Z was three corners ahead, its incredible power giving it the edge on every straight, just as the simulation had predicted.

"He drives so smoothly," Keisuke said, shocked at the blue Z's incredible movements, a constant fluid overpowering motion as the two cars screamed downhill. The course began to tighten up, only a few corners before the goal.

"Time to attack. If I can close the gap and force it into the uphill, I might have a chance to win. I never liked his laptop anyway," Keisuke chuckled, driving harder than he had before. Sweat coursed down his face, landing in thick droplets on his sleeves and chest.

"I feel like I've been driving at one hundred twenty percent this whole race. I just need to manage one hundred fifty to the goal and I'll have my chance. I don't know if I can keep this up," Keisuke admitted, upshifting and burying his foot to the floor down the straight, his efforts rewarded with a glimpse of the blue Z only two corners ahead.

"San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" Fumihiro shouted, throwing his arm down and jumping out of the way as the two cars shot forward, accelerating down the short straight before the road began to grow steeper, the Porsche holding back behind the AE86 as the two plunged downward at faster and faster speeds. Takumi glanced in his mirror and felt his forehead furrow as he tried to analyze the Porsche's decision. Suddenly the answer came clear.

"He wants to study me," Takumi said, diving into the familiar corner at eighty percent of his full speed. The Porsche drew back at the start of the turn, but by the midpoint it came close and by the end of the turn it was on his rear bumper. Rocketing down the straight Takumi noticed that the Porsche, initially at full throttle, suddenly let off the gas to stay behind the Corolla.

"You want me to show you the entry speeds for Akina, huh? Alright, I will. Wouldn't be fair if you didn't know, would it?" Takumi said, pushing the 86 harder into the next corner, watching with one eye as the Porsche fell back at the beginning of the turn before becoming glued to his bumper by the apex.

"Slow in and fast out, every corner. I guess that's the limitation of the rear engine Porsche," Takumi said. "I should be able to exploit that quickly. He has great power though, so I can't let him overtake me on the straights or I may not be able to recover in time. I would be able to pass him in the corners though if I had to. I think it's time to have fun." Takumi downshifted into second and floored it, the four cylinder monster under his hood revving up to its redline, tires screaming for traction as he shot forward, diving into the tight right hand corner at the very limit of his tires. The Porsche quickly fell behind, shocked at first, but then it began to charge, making up for lost time in the corners by thundering down the short straights with monstrous power, accelerating quicker than Takumi had ever seen before.

"So, this is how you drive?" Tatsuya said softly, downshifting and hitting the brakes hard in order to make the corner. Even with Ryosuke's extensive tuning, those who drove any generation of the Porsche 911 knew it was Slow In, Fast Out unless they wanted to risk losing control.

"Impressive. I didn't think such an antiquated car could battle so valiantly," he remarked, burying the throttle and grinning slightly as the boxer motor's incredible power surged Blackbird forward with unstoppable force.

"He can pass me in the corners, but I can overtake on the straights. From the drive up, I'm running out of chances to pass. If I can get ahead of him here, I may be able to hold him off. But if I win this battle, I won't know anything about Ryosuke's greatest rival, which will hinder me in my battle with him. I hate to do this to you," he said as he caressed the shifter, "but we need to lose."

Keisuke hit the emergency brake and spun the FD around the goal marker, an orange cone standing large in the center of the road. The Z had already made its way around, its rear end whipping out with a gentle jab of the throttle, and was already passing him by. The FD screamed around the cone and shot upward, the rotary engine roaring with power as it forced the lightweight coupe up the steep incline.

Akio shifted into second and pushed his foot to the floor, the Devil Z's engine shrieking with animal fury as the Z lunged forward with a burst of explosive acceleration, the rear tires threatening to disappear into a cloud of smoke at 62 KPH. Second gear was gone in a rush, followed by third, the engine throbbing with power. Keisuke watched as the FD drew close enough for him to read the plate before the Z pulled effortlessly away, charging uphill without slowing down at all.

"What kind of monster is this?" Keisuke asked, snarling in frustration. The FD was operating at maximum capacity and his own physical strength was beginning to fade from the demands placed upon it, and still the Z was gaining.

Akio glanced in his rearview mirror for a moment before focusing once more on the road ahead.

"It feels like Hakone, but it looks different. I don't know, I don't like all these curves. You can't run free like you can on the Wangan. I know you want to run at full throttle, Z, but I can't let you. I won't let you. Whether we win or lose, he will battle us on the Wangan, and we can show him then how we race," he said, gripping the wheel tighter in his hands, feeling the coilovers working away as the Z scrabbled for grip as it shot uphill, powered by its twin turbo inline six.

Tatsuya downshifted again, his foot stepping heavily on the brake pedal as he forced Blackbird to slow down for the corner. There was a long straight ahead, enough for him to make his move. Lifting off the brake slightly ahead of schedule he felt the rear of the car slide, catching it with a prod of the throttle and a touch of countersteer. With the Porsche pointed in the right direction again he buried the throttle and began to shift upward, rushing forward until he was just behind the AE86, then passing, then ahead. Streaking past the Corolla he smiled, putting as much distance as he dared before pushing heavily on the brakes again to make the next corner.

"I don't want to pass you, but from Ryosuke's mentions of you, you seem to reach a higher driving level once you've been passed. I want to see your attack. I have a feeling that when you pass me, as I know you will, I'll learn more about Ryosuke and how to defeat him. Teach me, 86," he said, doing his best to remain ahead.

Takumi watched the black Porsche shoot past and for a moment he felt a new fear grip his heart, squeezing it so tightly in its cold fingers that he forgot to breathe. Forcing his lungs to move again Fujiwara downshifted for the next corner, his mind racing.

"Maybe I miscalculated," he said. "I wanted to prove to everyone else what I feel, that the hachi-roku has more potential left in it, but I think I'm going to lose this race. I should have used the Impreza," he said, his resolve wavering.

"I don't know if I'm good enough. The hachi-roku has the potential, but do I?"

Tatsuya, glancing in his mirror, was surprised to see the AE86 shrink even faster.

"What's wrong?" he asked, for a moment thinking of letting his foot off the throttle, but another thought hit Tatsuya.

"If I can defeat this man so easily, someone who has truly challenged Ryosuke time after time, perhaps Ryosuke isn't as skilled as he appears. It felt impressive when he took me for a ride in his Spirit R, but now that I'm actually racing here..." The black Porsche rushed forward, roaring downhill as fast as it could go.

"Slow in, fast out," Tatsuya repeated to himself, controlling his urge to fly through the corners by reminding himself of the danger that awaited him. It was a shame, since it was the only weakness of the high-powered Porsche on the mountain passes. A sudden flash in the mirror made him look back, and his heart thrilled at the sight. The hachi-roku had recovered the lost distance and was now desperately attempting to overtake.

"Time to have some fun. How are you going to pass me?"

Keisuke smiled, his reckless attempt almost about to succeed. The blue Z was close ahead, its lead almost completely destroyed. The long downhill had worn on the other driver, and his speed had diminished as he fought to keep his powerful car under control.

"If I can force this into an endurance match, I'll have the advantage," Keisuke said, pushing the FD past its safety envelope in order to completely close the gap. The two cars flashed over the line and came to a stop side by side. Akio rolled down his window and spoke over the roar of his engine.

"We tied. What now?"

"We do it again," Keisuke replied. "In this kind of race we go until someone wins or someone gives up. That's the rule. How do you race?"

"Not like this," Akio admitted with a sheepish grin. "I don't know if I can go again, but we can try. Downhill again, right?"

"Yes."

"Let's make this sudden death. Whoever gets down first wins. Sound good?" Akio asked. Keisuke nodded and pulled his FD around, analyzing the blue Z as best he could. The car looked like it had been restrained, its power held back. Some of the corners had been evidence of that, a kind of easy wide stagger around the apex rather than a surgical slash through.

The two cars revved, one the powerful L28-mod twin turbo inline six, the other the 13B-REW rotary. In unison they revved up to their respective launching speeds, clutches were slipped, and they were off. The FD shot ahead, its greater grip and more aggressive gearing giving it an advantage over the taller-geared, but more powerful, Devil Z. They barreled down the short straight, the Z's incredible power quickly accelerating it past the FD and giving it the lead as the two cars dove into the first corner. Pushing his foot heavily on the brakes, Akio slowed down the Z and hauled the wheel over before pushing back into the throttle, sending the car through the corner at the highest speed its overheated tires could manage. Keisuke watched intently, keeping his FD so close to the Z's tail that the lead car's brake lights lit up his hood in an eery red glow. The next corner rapidly appeared and the Z slowed down to make it, while Keisuke took his chances and swung wide, initiating a drift in a desperate attempt to pass.

The two cars screamed through the corner, the Z hugging the inside while Keisuke's FD took the outside, drawing even by the apex of the corner.

"Please, FD, make it!" Keisuke heard himself saying as he worked the pedals and the wheel as best he could, watching as he gained millimeter by aching millimeter on the Z, until at the end of the corner he was ahead by half a car length. Rushing down the short straight the Z took the lead again thanks to its incredible power, but in the corner Keisuke again made his desperate attack, this time putting a full car length on Akio. The two cars battled furiously down the mountain, the Z gaining in the straights while the FD took the lead in the corners, neither one putting enough distance on the other to declare a clean victory.

With only a few curves left to go before the goal line, Keisuke knew he had to do something drastic in order to win. The FD's tires were hot and loose, forcing him to modify his driving style to take into account the dramatic sliding due to his lowered amount of traction. He had switched to drifting almost immediately to minimize the effect of the reduced traction and it had helped him stay close to the Z, but it hadn't let him push out in front. The Z was doing just as poorly, its rear tires almost destroyed from the continual push of the engine, while the front tires were flat-spotted due to Akio locking up the tires for a corner he had entered too fast. Damaged though they were, the tires on both cars had enough grip left to allow them one frantic attack. They just had to decide. Keisuke searched through his brain to come up with the solution. If he made his attack now and got into the lead, would he be able to to maintain it down the short straight before the goal? If Akio passed now, wouldn't that ruin the FD's chances at success?

Keisuke shook his head to clear his mind. The decision was clear. Dangerous as it was, it had to be done.

Takumi shifted up, rocketing downhill as fast as he dared in a desperate bid to pass the flying Porsche. On the straights he had no chance of success, the lead car's incredible power shooting it forward so fast that the outlines of the car seemed to blur in the night. It was in the curves where his chance lay. Blackbird slowed down tremendously at the corner entry, then accelerated like mad once it had reached the apex of the turn.

"If I can pass him at the start of the turn and then block him for the rest of it, I might be able to get past him," Takumi said, putting his plan into action. Riding into the next corner he kept to the outside, and when Blackbird inevitably slowed down, Takumi went wide and kept his speed up, drifting through the outside of the corner and passing the black Porsche with shocking ease. At the apex of the turn Blackbird lunged forward, devouring the hachi-roku and disappearing down the straight.

Tatsuya glanced in his mirror, his eyes wide with shock. The old hachi-roku had come close, very close, with seemingly little effort. It was a pity to send it back with the rush of power, but it had to be done. If he was to truly test his opponent's challenger, it would have to be done with every last ounce of skill he possessed. Blackbird screamed forward piling on the distance between the two cars until the next corner arrived, one of the last corners before the five consecutive hairpin turns that formed the last portion of the mountain course. A heavy application of the brakes on the final portion of the straight brought the car's speed down safely, and Tatsuya turned the wheel quickly to dive into the turn. The hachi-roku, as predicted, was immediately at his mirror, struggling with all its power and grip to overtake from the outside of the turn. It was an incredible display of skill that chilled Tatsuya. To be so reckless with your life was utterly alien to him. At the end of the corner the hachi-roku had managed to just barely forge ahead, relying on its faster corner entry speed, but the short straight pushed it back again. The five hairpin turns approached, a difficult obstacle for the 911. Thankfully the short straight had given Tatsuya enough of a lead that he could afford to tread carefully through the vicious turns.

Entering into the first turn Tatsuya used his brakes as little as possible to keep his speed up, but it wasn't enough as the hachi-roku soon loomed abnormally large in his rearview mirror, under some incredible acceleration that couldn't be explained. The second turn was the same, with the Porsche's lead being eaten by the panda Trueno. Tatsuya entered the third hairpin faster than he would have cared for, and although the rear end began to slide outward he was able to keep it under control. The hachi-roku whizzed past on the inside at an abnormal angle, making a strange sound as it went. Tatsuya's eyebrows shot up and he watched with great care as the hachi-roku entered the fourth hairpin.

"He's dropping his inside tires into the gutter to hook the car in and use all the throttle he wants," he said, watching enviously. The fifth hairpin passed in the same way, the hachi-roku far enough ahead at the corner exit that no show of power would reel him back in. The two cars flashed over the goal, the Trueno ahead by just half a car length thanks to the Porsche's incredible burst of acceleration.

"I can't believe you beat me," Tatsuya said, shaking Takumi's hand.

"Only because it's Akina," Fujiwara responded. "You would have won if we'd raced anywhere else. I've raced and driven here for more years than anyone else here. I know it by heart."

"Knowledge or not, you've triumphed over a far superior car. You'll have to teach me a few things," he added softly before turning to nod to the approaching Ryosuke.

"It seemed like an intense battle," Ryosuke said, nodding to Shima.

"It was. I know what you mean now," Tatsuya said before walking back to his Porsche. "I'm starved. Shall we go eat?"

Keisuke charged toward the final corner, burying his foot to the floor and shifting gears as he hit the redline. Second, third, and then fourth as he rocketed downward, approaching the corner at suicidal speed. The Z was beginning to slow down to make the corner. Now was the chance, but he had only attempted the technique in practice, with perfect tires and at lower speeds.

"Fortune favors the bold!" he shouted, initiating the drift and keeping the throttle to the floor as the FD drifted through the corner at top speed and continued sliding down the straightaway almost completely sideways, blocking the Z from passing on the short straight that remained. It was suicidal in the extreme as the slightest flaw in technique would either spin the FD out or crash it into the retaining wall or guardrail.

Sliding over the finish line Keisuke breathed a deep sigh of relief, forcing his white-knuckled hands to release the steering wheel and look over at the blue Z idliing a few meters away, its driver resting his forehead on the wheel.

"Good job," Keisuke said as he walked over to the Z. Akio looked up with tired eyes, then unbuckled his harness and got out of the car.

"Fun race. A little more interesting than what I've been used to," he admitted in a shaky voice.

"I thought you'd say that. I don't usually pull off a stunt like that to win, but since you said that you haven't seen anything really interesting on the mountain passes I thought I would spice it up for you," Keisuke replied.

"I enjoyed it. When are you going to come race on my course?" Akio asked.

"Where is your course?"

"The Wangan Line. If your FD can't top 320 KPH, don't bother racing."

"It may not be able to top 320 right now, but give me two weeks and I'll give you a run for your money. You don't mind me tuning my car for your course, do you?" Keisuke asked.

"Of course not. I did the same for my Z here. In two weeks then. Bye!"

Keisuke watched as the blue Z disappeared down the street, then patted the hood of his FD.

"Good car."

"So when did you first discover this method of driving?" Tatsuya asked, wrapping his hand around the door handle and bracing himself with his knees.

"A long time ago. I used it when I drove in the snow, it helped me keep the car from going out of control. After a while I figured out I could use it when it was dry out, in order to go through the corners faster. My dad told me about different ways to use it. I only use it in extreme situations, when there's no way to win. I don't think it's a fair way of winning," Takumi said in something of a gloomy voice.

"Fair or not it's an admirable and difficult technique to have mastered. It requires a great number of things from your abilities, as well as your vehicle. It must place enormous stress on your suspension, Fujiwara."

"It does. I've broken coilovers and swaybars, as well as end links. I feel like the front suspension on this car has been rebuilt ten times already. You're not thinking of using it yourself, are you?" Takumi asked suspiciously.

"Of course, Fujiwara. It's the one technique I need in order to defeat Ryosuke. Or at least have a suitable chance at doing so. Why do you think I asked you to give me a ride?"

"You wanted to experience the ride quality of a Toyota Corolla?" Takumi asked with a slight smile. Tatsuya chuckled dryly and shook his head.

"Come now, Fujiwara. Show me the technique in your car, allow me to make some measurements, and then we can try it in my Blackbird. I might even let you drive."

"Drive? I don't think I could drive your car. I'd be too scared to destroy it," Takumi admitted, his hands shaking slightly. Tatsuya shrugged his shoulders, bracing for the first hairpin. Fujiwara hooked the gutter perfectly and accelerated, the g-forces becoming intense to the point of discomfort.

"Teach me how to do that, and I'll offer you a reward. What do you want, Fujiwara?"

The two remained silent as the hachi-roku coasted to a stop. Tatsuya opened his eyes and got out of the car, walking over quickly to Blackbird. Opening the door he got inside, sat down, and buckled his harness, firing up the engine and letting it warm up as Fujiwara slowly made his way to the passenger seat. Climbing inside and sitting down, he buckled up and oriented his body as best he could for optimal bracing. Takumi felt nervous, his pulse racing and his hands slick with sweat.

"I'm not going to push too hard, but I do want to make sure I do it right. I have enough ground clearance, and plenty of power. If this goes wrong we'll spin out and crash through the guardrail tail-first, but if I succeed then we'll probably break your downhill record."

"Don't ruin such a nice car," Takumi begged. Tatsuya shrugged and revved up the flat six, dropping the clutch and shooting forward with minimal wheelspin due to the great weight pressing down on the rear tires.

Blackbird thundered down Mt. Akina, Tatsuya taking the curves carefully as he drew closer and closer to the five hairpins.

"It took me a lot of tries before I could do it successfully," Takumi warned, hoping that Tatsuya would slow his incredible pace. The driver remained quiet, focused completely on the road. As the first hairpin appeared, Tatsuya dropped the inside tires into the gutter and began to feed in the throttle. The Porsche swerved in, the rest of the car trying to fall into the gutter.

"More throttle!" Takumi cried, watching as the retaining wall loomed incredibly large. Tatsuya fed the engine more gas and it responded with a gut-wrenching explosion of power that kicked the car out of the gutter and forced it into a long, tail-first slide down the road before coming to a halt. Tatsuya peeled his fingers off the wheel, restarted the engine, and attacked the second hairpin. The Porsche fell into the gutter again, balanced with the throttle, and popped out almost exactly on time.

"You're a quick learner," Takumi said.

"Have to be," Tatsuya replied, attacking the third hairpin with gusto, the 911 screaming into the corner hot, hooking the gutter, and accelerating out so ferociously that Takumi felt as if his head would come off his neck from the g-forces.

The fourth and fifth passed by in a blur, and in a few moments the 911 was resting at the base of Mt. Akina, its engine ticking over quietly as it idled while Takumi changed seats with Tatsuya.

"Don't be afraid. Don't take it past 7,000 RPMs and you should be fine. I won't say anything, so don't worry about me. Just take her up the mountain and down again. When we reach the base, we can talk about your reward." Takumi glanced at him for a moment through narrowed eyes, then shook his head and put the car in gear.

"That's actually reverse," Tatsuya said softly. Takumi blushed and tried again, looking at the doctor for approval. With a nod from Shima, he revved up and dropped the clutch, lunging forward explosively. Blackbird screamed up the mountain, its engine wailing as the turbocharger sang its full-throated song, the tachometer never very far from the redline. At the peak of the mountain he let off the gas, sliding the car in a perfect circle before balancing the throttle and spinning the car over and over again.

"What are you doing?" Tatsuya shouted over the roar of the engine.

"Finding my balance," Takumi replied as Blackbird's engine bounced off the rev limiter, the rear wheels disappearing into white smoke.

"I hope you find it soon, those are expensive tires you're mutilating," Tatsuya grumbled. The Porsche stopped with its lazy loops and rocketed downhill.

Blackbird shrieked down Mt. Akina, its boxer motor winding out over and over again, the brake rotors glowing red at the entrance of every corner. Takumi kept lifting his foot and initiating a brief slide, enough to almost point the car in the right direction but before it spun out of control. Down it flew, screaming through the corners leading up to the five hairpins. With practiced ease Takumi dropped the wheels into the gutter and opened the throttle wide, the five hairpins gone and in the rearview mirror before Tatsuya could blink an eye. As Blackbird came to a gentle stop alongside the hachi-roku, Tatsuya relaxed his grip and looked over at Takumi. The young man's eyes were wide and unfocused as if he were staring through the dashboard, his hands shaking slightly as he breathed rapidly.

"Who tuned this car?" Takumi asked quietly.

"The Tuner from Hell, Kitami Jun."

"I want to meet him."

"Why?" Tatsuya asked. Takumi looked out Blackbird's window at the hachi-roku and his eyes snapped into focus.

"I want him to work on my car."

"The patient is presenting abnormal bibasilar breathing sounds and is listless, with pleuritic pain as well as headaches, cough with sputum, and dusky skin. Analysis?" Dr. Shima asked, looking at the heads of his students as they frantically scrambled to assemble the symptoms into a coherent diagnosis. Takahashi, as usual, was the first to reach the logical conclusion.

"The cyanosis of the skin combined with the respiratory distress would seem to indicate pneumonia, Dr. Shima," Ryosuke said confidently. Tatsuya nodded and continued walking, the other students shaking their heads, jealous of Takahashi's quick thinking. The morning rounds passed quickly, and when it came time for lunch, Tatsuya found himself waiting impatiently for Ryosuke to appear. Walking out of the building at a hurried pace, Takahashi jogged across the parking lot and stopped in front of Shima, panting slightly from the exertion.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you, but I had paperwork to catch up on," Takahashi said breathlessly, placing a hand on the fender of his Spirit R to steady himself.

"You do too much paperwork, Takahashi, but I assume that's why you always seem to have the answers to my questions. At any rate, I'd like to stump you. What does an S30Z, my Porsche, a white Ferrari Testarossa and your friend's AE86 have in common?"

"They were tuned by Kitami Jun," Ryosuke replied. Tatsuya's face fell instantly, and he got into Blackbird quietly, shutting the door with unusual quickness. Ryosuke shut his door with less vehemence and buckled as quickly as he could before the Porsche shot off down the street, headed for Kitami's warehouse.

Itsuki writhed in the seat, mad with anticipation.

"Whoa! A Ferrari Testarossa! GT-R! What's that?" he cried, his nose pressed to the window as he stared at the collection of cars parked outside the warehouse, vying for position with a number of scooters and motorcycles. Takumi merely parked the hachi-roku, ignoring his excitable friend and walking inside, Itsuki following close on his heels. When knocking on the door brought no answer, Takumi pushed open the door and walked inside. Under the dim overhead lighting he could see a number of shrouded forms parked against the far wall, while a small coupe was sitting in the center of the floor with spotlights on its engine bay, a form bent under the hood and adjusting something with a wrench.

"Excuse me, are you Kitami Jun?" Takumi asked. The wrench stopped turning, and a tall older man with a large scar over one eye turned around and looked down on him. He laughed through clenched teeth, then nodded.

"Yes, I am. Who are you?" he asked, taking in the two with a curious expression on his face, as if he was biting back another laugh.

"Fujiwara-" he began, but the man's expression changed instantly. He grabbed Takumi by the shoulder and propelled him toward an oddly familiar shape in the back lurking under a cover. The rear of the canvas was perked up considerably by a large spoiler. With a flourish of his wrist, Jun whipped the cover off of the car, revealing the unmistakable blue form of Bunta's Impreza.

"I was surprised at the request, since I rarely handle this style of tuning, but I like it. A fun challenge," he said, chuckling through his teeth again as he handed over the keys.

"This is my father's car," Takumi said. "I actually came to see if you would look at my own car and tune it."

"What is it?"

"An AE86 with a 4A-GE Group A motor. It's making 270 HP, but I need more. I know the car is good and it's capable of more, but it's getting harder and harder to win my battles. I've tried to get better, but..." Takumi trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets and hanging his head. Kitami chuckled through his teeth again, then took the key from Takumi's hand.

"You go and run the Impreza around the block, see if your father will approve. I'll give your hachi a look over and see what I can do. You'll need to bring me about a million yen if I find anything, though. I don't do this for free," Kitami said, disappearing outside. Takumi heard the sound of his engine firing up and the screaming of tires, then all was silent as he stood there, shocked, holding the key to the Subaru in his hand while Itsuki caressed the Impreza.

"Takumi, come on! Let's go!" he cried, opening the door and jumping inside. With a heavy sigh Takumi sat behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition, turning over the engine and letting it idle.

"Do it!" Itsuki shouted. Feeling angry at Itsuki's constant goading, Takumi revved up the boxer motor to its redline and dropped the clutch, sending up clouds of smoke from every tire and launching the Impreza forward with demonic power.

"Tatsuya, do you ever feel regret for modifying your car?" Ryosuke asked as he looked out the window, his mind churning over the actions of the morning.

"Sometimes. Usually when I go to fuel up my car. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking it over these past few days, comparing Fujiwara's attitude toward his hachi-roku and my casual abandonment of my old FC," he said, rubbing the arm that had been injured in the crash.

"From what you've told me, it wasn't casual abandonment. It was damaged beyond all repair. Is that not true?" Tatsuya asked, downshifting for the stoplight.

"It was heavily damaged. I could have fixed it if I had the time and the money, but I was worried about the car ever returning to its full strength."

"You should have spoken with Akio. He's rebuilt his Z so many times that I've lost count. Each accident has been worse than the last. It caught fire once and burned down, and yet it still runs. The car refuses to die," Tatsuya said with a smile. Ryosuke chuckled, then felt his mouth drop open.

"Whoa!" Tatsuya shouted, twisting Blackbird's wheel to avoid a collision with a blue coupe that was leaving Kitami's warehouse in a cloud of its own tire smoke. Ryosuke watched in awe, his head rotating as far as his neck would let it as his eyes took in the incredible sight. With all four wheels belching smoke and the coupe veering side to side he had only a few moments to recognize it as Fujiwara Bunta's Impreza, with Fujiwara Takumi behind the wheel. The Impreza disappeared around the corner at high speed just as an eerily familiar hachi-roku pulled around the other corner.

"Kitami," Tatsuya said as he approached the man. Jun laughed through clenched teeth as he surveyed the black stripes that trailed from inside the warehouse to the corner.

"He takes my word very seriously," he said, popping open the hood of the hachi-roku and peering inside, poking around and fiddling with the throttle body linkage.

"Why is this vehicle here?" Ryosuke asked, resting his hand on the fender.

"The driver wanted it tuned. Why else would it be here?" Kitami replied, chuckling to himself as he said it.

"It's already been tuned. I don't know what else can be done," Ryosuke replied. Jun cocked an eyebrow at him, and then glanced at Tatsuya.

"Although there has been a great deal of work done on the suspension and to some areas of the body, the engine is undertuned and pretty pathetic. I must have been sleeping when I did it the first time," Kitami remarked, adjusting the engine's idle speed until it began to scream, blipping the throttles over and over again, listening to the sound of the motor.

"The electronic tuning leaves a flat spot that hurts motor response right here," Kitami said over the roar of the engine. Ryosuke blushed slightly.

"What is he wanting done?" Tatsuya asked, looking at the little hatchback. It seemed mean enough, with various lightweight body panels, a full cage, bucket seats, and coilovers peeking through the wheel spokes. The engine was the triumph of the car, a fully built racing motor with absolutely no concern for fuel efficiency. Its individual throttle bodies and the intricately curved header were evidence enough of the quest for ultimate power, even without the knowledge of the high compression pistons that lurked inside.

"He wasn't specific. He mentioned that he feels like he's holding the car back, but at the same time he wants more from the car. Sounds like he's reached the limits of the car but won't accept it. I get a few like that. I have him trying out his father's car at the moment. He may sing a new song when he returns. People often do. If he does, I have something here for him," Kitami said with another evil chuckle, the muscles in his jaw flexing

"What is it?" Ryosuke asked, stepping forward once more.

"I felt the need for a change, so when this car came to my attention I felt it was worthy of my time, although it was damaged beyond all recognition. It's a nice light chassis from the mid-80s, so its more current than my most successful project. I've replaced just about everything so I can't really say it's anything like stock, but it was a good starting point. Turbocharged, of course."

"What is it?" Ryosuke pressed, following the man until they stopped by a covered object in the center of the room.

"The only car capable of keeping up with my Z, at least on mountain roads," Jun said, patting the shape.

"When I came across it in the wrecking yard, I was intrigued. Someone had put a great deal of time and effort into it, modifying almost every component in the car. Almost all of the parts were new, or almost new. It was a labor of love for someone, but I suppose whoever it was that owned it didn't know how to drive. It was damaged badly on the right side, with substantial body damage, a blown engine, a trashed suspension and ruined brakes, but it called to me." Ryosuke stared at the man, almost frothing at the mouth to find out what was under the sheet. Tatsuya stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, making eye contact with Kitami Jun. Unspoken words flew between them, and then with another smile and a vicious laugh, Kitami bent down and snatched the sheet off.

Ryosuke fell to his knees, his eyes wide in shock and his mouth moving silently as his brain tried desperately to process what he saw. It stood there, mocking him, its pure white lines and gentle curves achingly familiar, the closed headlights looking like they were avoiding his stare. The wheels were perfect, the rubber of the brand new tires a deep black. The scoop on the hood had been subtly enlarged to feed the bigger intercooler perched on top of the new motor.

"How..." Ryosuke stammered, reaching out with a madly shaking hand to caress the gleaming, immaculate fender.

"As I said, I found it trashed in a junk yard, in very bad condition. As a challenge I put it back together, adding my own twist to it. It's been quite some time since I've touched a rotary engine though. Tatsuya has told me that you are something of an expert on them. I doubt it, but you can have a look and tell me how it measures. I don't have a key though," Jun said, watching the young doctor in training as he rose from the floor and extraced a shining piece of metal from around his neck.

"I kept it as a memento," Ryosuke confessed, opening the door and settling inside. He put the key in the ignition and twisted it. The engine came alive, its turbochargers singing happily as it idled.

"I've missed you, my FC."

The Devil Z thundered down the Wangan Line, driving flat out, as fast as it could go, the tachometer pegged deep into the red and still Keisuke's FD managed to hang on, tenaciously, furiously, its bumper level with the Z's mirror.

"We'll leave the Wangan towards Haneda, take the Yokohane route, and finish at Bay Bridge. It's a flashy finish, but if you can keep up until then, you'll deserve it," Akio had said, laughing as he traced the route on the map. They had started strong, the FD taking an early lead as the two cars raced toward 300 KPH, but the distance was taking its toll on the 13B-REW. Always vulnerable to cooling issues, the temperature gauge slowly climbing upward. The Bay Bridge was approaching rapidly, and the only question that remained was whether or not the engine would hold together long enough to make the final chance at passing.

Keisuke looked to his left, his eyes taking in the sight of the Devil Z effortlessly running alongside, in its element. There was no hurried tuning, no drastic alterations made to accommodate the course. The Z was born for the Wangan, and it showed in Akio's effortless lead. Keisuke looked down again at his gauges, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. There was nothing else that could be done, as ridiculous as it seemed.

"Help me nitrous oxide, you're my only hope," he said, flipping the switch to arm the system. Rather than the system on the Grim Reaper's NSX that pumped the nitrous oxide into the engine directly for combustion, nozzles sprayed over the FD's massive intercooler with a little seeping past and hitting the radiator, helping to control the skyrocketing heat issues. Keisuke watched intensely as the needle began to drop into more normal ranges, letting him push the throttle to the floor once more. With the incredible speed came the relief of cold rushing air, flowing through his radiator and assisting the nitrous oxide. The RX-7, far more aerodynamic than the Devil Z, began to pull ahead.

Akio felt his smile begin to fade.

"Z, why?" he asked, gripping the steering wheel tighter. His horsepower advantage should have overcome his aerodynamic disability, but for some reason it hadn't, and the FD was pulling ahead. No rotary engine car was strong enough for the high speed run, and yet one was passing him and pulling away.

"Go Z!" he shouted, willing the car on with every fiber of his being. The blue monster unwillingly accelerated past 300 KPH, its engine beginning to breathe hard and gasp for breath. The two cars streaked along, dodging traffic in their deadly high-speed game, the Bay Bridge looming large in the not-too-distant future.

"Just a little bit longer, FD," Keisuke pleaded, cringing as he kept his foot glued to the floor, ignoring the pained howl of his engine. He felt the sudden painful thump of the tires hitting the expansion joint marking their arrival on the bridge and glanced across to see the Z slowly forging ahead. Keisuke's foot was already all the way to the floor but the FD was beginning to slow, its deceleration obviously linked to the pegged temperature needle and the steam beginning to obscure his vision outwards.

When the final thump of the last expansion joint had rattled his teeth almost out of his head, Keisuke looked up to see the blue Devil Z three car lengths ahead and splatters of oil smearing across his windshield. In frustration he thumped the steering wheel with his hand, then coasted over to the side of the road and pulled over with his flashers on.

"Damnit!" he cursed, hot tears of frustration welling up behind his eyes. Two motors blown up in under six months. The Z curved around and pulled up alongside the yellow FD and Akio stepped out, leaning low to look into the RX-7's window.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Keisuke nodded, unwilling to trust his voice at the moment. After a few seconds he cleared his throat, opened the door, and put his hand on the burning-hot hood of the FD.

"Fine. Motor's blown though. I can't tell you how many 13B-REWs I've gone through recently. I think I'm doomed when it comes to the rotary engine, but I love it too much to give it up."

"I understand," Akio said, and indeed he did, having rebuilt his entire car numerous times, fixing the effects of crashes, fender benders, and a fire.

"So what else is there to do on the Wangan when you have a blown engine?" Keisuke asked, trying to smile.

"Ride in my car, I'll show you the Wangan how it's supposed to be seen. Besides, I heard there's a big race coming up between Blackbird and someone called the White Comet."

"Are you ready?" Tatsuya asked, running his hand over the smooth fender of his Blackbird, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Yes, I am," Ryosuke replied, his emotions still tumbling inside him. The FC, as tuned by Kitami Jun, had been eery in its familiarity and its traces of alien response. Tucked away in Jun's warehouse, it was still cooling off from its quick run around the block. Tatsuya could tell from his facial expression on getting out of the white coupe that it was an earth-shaking experience for him. Ryosuke still seemed shaky, but he had driven the FD onto the Wangan line with remarkable composure.

"Ryosuke, if I might make a suggestion?" Tatsuya offered.

"Hmm?"

"I feel that racing you on the Wangan line would be counterproductive."

"How do you mean?" Ryosuke asked, somewhat confused.

"The Wangan requires a different level of skills to race. Most of it is in the car, to be honest with you, although the driver's ability to react to developing situations is important, don't get me wrong. I feel that your style of racing, the touge, places more demands on the driver and less on the car, and is a more fitting scenario for proving who is the better driver. If it's permissible, I would like to relinquish my claim for a Wangan top speed run in exchange for an extended battle on Mt. Akina," Tatsuya said, his emotionless eyes observing Ryosuke for any reaction.

"If you feel that this is the best challenge, then I acquiesce," Ryosuke said graciously, his mind running quickly to deduce why Tatsuya would relinquish the battle most favorable to him.

"Two nights then, and we'll race on Akina. Uphill and downhill. I'll see you then," Tatsuya said, getting back into his car and driving off into the night. Ryosuke leaned against his fender and shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought as his incredible analytical mind began sifting through the data available to him. For one thing, Tatsuya hadn't reconfigured his car for the Wangan run, so he had no intention of racing tonight. It was a premeditated choice, one that relied on some new information that had changed Blackbird from a mediocre touge runner into one that Tatsuya felt would challenge the Spirit R for supremacy.

With a deep sigh, Ryosuke opened the door and got inside, buckling up and starting the 13B-REW. When the temperature gauge had reached its optimal level, he put the FD into gear and drove back to Kitami Jun's warehouse.

"Takumi, isn't your dad's car incredible?" Itsuki cried, still amazed from his experience earlier. Fujiwara merely grunted, his eyes staring out the window, a grim scowl on his face. Jun had refused to tune the AE86, claiming it didn't need anything else done to it. His father had raised an eyebrow at his Impreza showing up with his son behind the wheel, but other than that, very little had been said. Itsuki was driving him back to pick up the AE86, pushing his own hachi-go as hard as he could, trying to mimic the Impreza as best he could.

Stopping outside the warehouse, Takumi opened the door and looked back at Itsuki.

"I'll be back in just a second. Follow me when I get out, okay?" he said, closing the door behind him and walking inside. With a slight shock he noticed his AE86 in the middle of the floor, hood open and Jun fiddling with something under the hood.

"I thought you weren't going to touch it?" Takumi asked quietly.

"So did I, but I had to do something about your flat spot in the engine management system. It would have bothered me otherwise. Your father liked his car?" he asked, setting down his tools and closing the hachi-roku's hood.

"Yes, in his fashion."

"Good. Here's the key, you don't owe me anything. Don't ask me to tune this car, Fujiwara, I won't. I'm too busy working on other cars," he said, moving toward a shrouded object off in one corner.

"What is it?" Takumi asked, curiosity overcoming his desire to go home and sleep. Jun whipped off the cover, revealing a familiar white FC.

"But this is Ryosuke's old car," Takumi said, confused. "I saw it destroyed. How is it here?"

"I put it back together again, as a challenge. He saw it earlier, and I think it shook him. In fact, I think that's him now," he said, looking up at Ryosuke walking in through the door. He hesitated on seeing Takumi standing there, then stepped forward with a laugh.

"So you know my weakness," he said softly, then fell silent until he was standing at the side of his FC, stroking its fender lovingly.

"How much?" he asked. Jun chuckled, his teeth gritted close together.

"Money cannot purchase this car," Kitami replied.

"How about a Spirit R?" he answered, throwing a set of glittering keys through the air that Jun caught with surprising ease. He turned over the gleaming keys in his hand, examining them.

"The one you have now? I'd have to have a look at it, but if this car is an example of your tuning prowess I don't think I would be trading fairly. I would feel taken advantage of," Jun said, stepping outside with Ryosuke to look at the Spirit R.

Takumi watched them go, shrugged, and opened the bay door. Hopping into his Corolla he started the engine, felt his eyebrows raise up slightly as some new vibration shivered through the body of his car and into his own, shrugged, and put the car into gear. Rolling out of the warehouse and out onto the street, he saw Ryosuke and Jun poking and prodding under the hood of the Spirit R, and the last sight before he was around the corner was of the two of them pushing the car into the warehouse for further examination.

After devouring the kilometers between Jun's warehouse and his own driving grounds, Takumi knew something had been done to the AE86, something far more than a simple retune of the engine management. To test it out he traveled up Mt. Akina and down again, pushing the car harder and harder, reaching if not a new level, at least a new level of perfection in his current abilities. Racing down Mt. Akina at reckless speeds, he saw a black flash streak past him, overtaking on the outside and diving into the corner without touching its brakes. Blackbird.

Ryosuke looked at Kitami Jun with pleading eyes. They had been bartering, compromising, and even flat out arguing for two hours, weighing up the two cars, their abilities, their values, and their different natures.

"I'm telling you for the twentieth time," Kitami said with barely-controlled exasperation, "I admire your FD and its power, but my car..."

"As we've gone over before, my FC has less power, while the FD has much more. It's more suited for Wangan driving, better for you and your clients. There's a bigger base to build from," Ryosuke reiterated, feeling impatient.

"So why do you want an inferior car?" Jun said. "Your insistence in getting this car is making me think there's more to it than meets the eye."

"It has sentimental value," Ryosuke said with a sigh. "This is the car that helped me build my legend, a car that is as much of me as I am of it. When I crashed it I thought that was my chance to upgrade to a stronger car, which was necessary in taking down some of my more difficult opponents. Now I've been driving this FD, I haven't been able to connect with it like I've connected with my FC. I would rather drive my FC, even if it means I'll lose some of my races."

"Noble. You won't be able to defeat Blackbird with this car though. You've spent far more money on the FD than this FC though. I'd hate you to realize what a mistake you've made a week or so down the line, especially since I won't give the FD back to you."

"You have my word, I won't trade back."

"Just one thing, Takahashi. This car truly is no match for Blackbird. Tatsuya visited me earlier, and I know some things you don't."

"I'd rather not know. I'd like it to be a surprise. With this car, I can conquer any surprise," Ryosuke said, opening the familiar door and sitting in the driver seat, a smile gracing his face.

Takumi sat down on the step outside his house and rested his head in his hands, staring at the two cars sitting a few meters away from him, the blue Subaru and the panda Trueno, both ticking from the heat as they cooled down in the cool night air.

"What do you think?" Bunta asked, sitting down next to him and offering a can of coffee.

"I like it, but it's not for me," Takumi said, glancing at the Subaru with jealousy clearly evident in his eyes. Kitami's tuning had turned the already lethal Impreza into a deadly weapon, one that was almost too powerful for the mountain passes, a far cry from the AE86's much more modest power output.

"What do you think of it?" Takumi asked, watching his father out of the corner of his eye. Bunta sighed and leaned back, emptied his can, and stood up. Ruffling Takumi's hair as he walked inside, he remarked in a casual voice,

"It'll do."

Takumi shook his head and got up, walking over to his hachi-roku. Resting his hand on the fender he stood there, thinking, digesting the events of the night. He had driven both cars to the best of his abilities, and even though the Impreza was infinitely more powerful it was only slightly faster than the hachi-roku with its new engine tune.

"Something's not right," he said, glancing at the Subaru as he slid behind the seat of his Trueno and fired up the engine.

"Even with my abilities, I should be able to drive faster than that. My hachi-roku isn't that good, no matter what tires I use. What's holding me back from going faster with all wheel drive?" he asked, starting the engine and noticing that it cranked quickly and ran without hesitation, a change from its usual angry lumpish idle in anything less than perfect weather. With a shake of his head he put the car into gear and headed off toward Mt. Akina to practice.

Nakazato thumped his head against the window of his R34 and sighed deeply, looking over at the empty passenger seat. He and Sayuki had been fighting for a week now, an argument that had started with new suspension settings that had quickly blossomed to cover not only the R34 but their budding relationship that now seemed doomed to failure.

"I should have just agreed," he said to himself, his voice sounding hollow and empty inside the GT-R's cabin. He was cruising at 250 KPH on the Wangan as a change of pace from his usual racing grounds, trying to clear his mind. It seemed to suit the R34 more, for some reason. The high speed runs on an open highway meshed well with the engine's tremendous power and the car's great stability, and passing lesser cars left and right did wonders to improve Nakazato's attitude. A white R32 was coming up with him, trying its best to draw level. Nakazato let the car come alongisde long enough for him to take a look at the driver. To his surprise, it was a female.

"Woman or no, I could do with another win. Try and keep up," Nakazato said, pushing his foot to the floor and reveling in the sound of his turbochargers spooling up, the force of acceleration pushing him back into his seat until it became hard to breathe. To his great surprise, the white R32 was keeping up. Nakazato kept his foot to the floor, watching as the speedometer needle swept past 300 KPH and approached 315, with the R32 still clinging on desperately, although it was beginning to fade. Overheating issues, possibly.

"I respect you for being willing to destroy your car in order to keep up with me," he said, "but I won't let you destroy something I'm so fond of." He hit his turn signal and let his foot off the throttle, slowing down and pulling off the main line, stopping at a coffee shop. He waited with the engine running and soon saw the white R32 approaching, pulling to a stop next to him

"Wow!" she cried, hopping out of her own car and rushing over to his, "what do you have under the hood? I couldn't keep up!" Nakazato smiled and popped the hood, displaying the engine in all its glory.

"My name is Reina," she said, "and that's my R32. I've never seen you on the Wangan before. Are you new?"

"Not really. I don't race here, but I've driven here before for work. My name is Takeshi Nakazato. Nice to meet you. It's rare to find women racers," he said.

"I know. I just like the speed rush. I've never seen an R34 up close before. I'm surprised that you've done so much to it. This must have cost a fortune," she said, running her hands over the gleaming valvecover and caressing the intercooler piping.

"It did, I'm still paying for it. But it does what it was designed to do. I don't really do high speed runs though, I usually race on the touge."

"The touge? What's that?" Reina asked, shutting the hood of the R34 and perching lightly on the front fender, looking at Nakazato with a simple confident smile.

"It's a different style of racing. Where I'm from there are lots of mountain roads that we race on, seeing who can win in hill climb and downhill runs. This is more of a hill climb car because of all the power. It weighs a little bit more than it should, even though I've gutted the interior and went on an aggressive lightening plan."

"It does well enough on the Wangan. You should race more often. You'd be a good challenge for Akio," Reina said with a smile.

"What does he drive?"

"An S30Z," she said with a satisfied smile.

"That's it?" Nakazato asked, confused.

"Six hundred and twenty horsepower from a 3.2 liter twin turbo inline six through a five speed transmission to the rear wheels, Nakazato. And that's just scratching the surface. You should race him sometime. I don't know where he's been lately. He was gone for the longest time, but I did see him last night for a second, racing with a yellow FD."

"A yellow FD?" Nakazato said out loud, then checked himself. "Would you like a ride?" he offered with a gracious smile. Reina blushed slightly, then nodded.

"Just a quick one."

"Tatsuya."

"Takahashi."

The two men stared at each other, sizing each other up. Their cars were almost as different as their driving styles. Tatsuya's Blackbird was typical of the solid German sportscar, tail-heavy, powerful. Its Wangan tuning had given the boxer engine over six hundred horsepower, while Ryosuke's labors had wrought a suspension capable of handling the power and giving the 911 a fighting chance on the difficult mountain roads. Ryosuke's diminutive FC seemed far outmatched in comparison. With the front engine rear drive layout it was more balanced, and it was lighter, but the turbocharged rotary engine made far less power, somewhere around 280 HP at the crank. The little white coupe looked hopelessly outmatched by the hulking Teutonic monster.

"Are the rules clearly understood?" Fumihiro asked, looking at the two closely.

"We race uphill, turn around, and come downhill. The first to reach the bottom again wins the race. No crashing into each other and no outside interference," Tatsuya said.

"Understood," Ryosuke said calmly, quietly. Fumihiro looked at the two and felt his mind begin to wonder how they could both appear so collected and cool, almost cold, when they were about to launch upon an epic battle. They both showed the faintest flicker of emotion at Takumi's arrival, but no more.

"Are they about to race?" Takumi asked. Keisuke nodded and pointed at the Porsche.

"He has a three hundred horsepower advantage over my brother."

"Does Ryosuke want to lose?" Takumi asked.

"No. I think he's..." Keisuke trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"He's what?"

"I think he's making it a challenge for him."

"What do you mean?" Takumi asked, thoroughly confused. From his race against Blackbird he knew the car was potent, strong, and fast. Tatsuya had also figured out the gutter hook technique, eliminating his car's biggest weakness. Takahashi's Spirit R would have been an even competitor, but with the less powerful FC it was suicidal.

"You've seen how he's been racing lately. I think he's reached another level, higher than he's ever been before. I think this race is proof. If he can defeat Tatsuya with the FC then he can justify racing whenever he wants. It'll clear his conscience as far as our parents are concerned," Keisuke added with a faint grin.

"This should be interesting to see then. I wonder if he knows about Tatsuya's new technique," Takumi said. The two cars revved up and launched, tires screaming for traction. Keisuke turned and looked at Takumi intently.

"What new technique?" he asked carefully.

"The gutter hook. He's able to use the gutter hook to keep his corner entry speed up," Takumi said. Keisuke's eyes widened in surprise. His brother's point of attack was gone.

"This race... should be interesting."

Immediately from the start Blackbird took the lead, its massive horsepower advantage violently thrusting it up the hill without any sign of slowing down. Tatsuya's skill allowed him to keep the throttle wide open, letting the rear end of his Porsche slide just a little bit around some of the corners as he balanced the available traction with the speed necessary to keep ahead of Ryosuke. The white FC was fading fast, although Takahashi tried everything he could to keep Blackbird within eyesight. By the fifth corner on the uphill, Tatsuya was three seconds ahead and gaining.

"This is turn ten! Ryosuke is eight seconds behind!" the radios screamed, and Keisuke felt sick to his stomach. It had been bad enough watching the ghostlike FC lining up against the Porsche rather than the far more powerful Spirit R, but this wholesale slaughter of his brother's once-great racing legend was painful to witness. Takumi walked away and sat down by the wheel of his hachi-roku, arms crossed over his knees, burying his chin and closing his eyes.

"Why would Ryosuke do this?" he asked himself, mumbling softly so that no one else would hear him. He forced his brain to think, to try and figure out why his mentor would pull such a stunt. The only thing he could think of was Ryosuke's frequent preaching on the importance of balance, but even then the FC's low horsepower could put it so far behind at the turnaround point that no matter how incredible it was on the downhill, it wouldn't be able to catch up. Neither did it take into account the fact that Tatsuya had learned the gutter hook technique, and had eliminated his greatest weakness. Where could Ryosuke exploit Blackbird?

Takahashi Ryosuke felt the edge of his calm beginning to fail as the black Porsche drew further and further away from him at every straight. Even in the corners he wasn't gaining as much as he should have with his superior balance, possibly indicating the surprise mentioned by Kitami. For a moment he thought of beginning his attack, but relaxed in his seat and smiled.

"A premature attack is worse than pulling over and parking the car," Ryosuke said, allowing himself to be content with a slightly increased pace. It was important to give Tatsuya as much of a lead as possible before the turnaround, but there were limits to how far ahead he could get. The key was to give him confidence in success.

"This is the turnaround! Blackbird is already headed downhill! Ryosuke is nowhere in sight!" the radios shouted, and Keisuke handed his radio over to Fumihiro and walked away, unwilling to hear any more. His brother's ego had tripped him up again. No one was good enough to come back from such a disastrous race. Even racing against Godfoot, he had only been seven seconds behind and his win had been extremely close.

"Ryosuke has passed the turnaround point, he's twenty seconds behind!"

"So this is the new S5 Savanna?" the young man asked, running his hand down the gleaming black fender.

"Yes, we just got this one in today. This is the Turbo model, with a top-mounted intercooler. This model even features an Auto Adjusting Suspension. It changes damping characteristics based on the road and driving conditions, compensates for camber changes, and provides anti-dive and anti-squat as well," the salesman said, handing over a small sheaf of papers.

"It's heavier than the SA22C," he replied, walking around the front of the car and opening the driver's door.

"Only by eighty pounds. It's a much nicer car, tighter suspension, softer ride, less oversteer. It even has rack and pinion steering, instead of the old recirculating ball. This is better than the Porsche 944."

"What about a 911?"

"Oh, I don't know about a 911. Those are in a different class. You might have to shop with Nissan, try their new Skyline GT-R. We've got one in the back that we took in on trade, but I'm not sure if you'd like it. It's not an RX-7, by any stretch of the imagination," the salesman said, settling in the passenger seat of the car in order to speak face to face with his young potential sale.

"I'd like to look at the engine. Is that acceptable?" he asked. The salesman nodded.

"It's that catch right there," the salesman replied, and the two were soon standing in front of the car, looking down on the twin-rotor turbocharged engine.

"Because this is a turbocharged engine, it comes with an intercooler that helps cool the incoming air and fight detonation. By being mounted on top of the engine it helps to reduce the length of the intake plumbing, but it does limit the size of the intercooler. I know a few people here who have switched to a front-mounted intercooler and have made some decent gains."

Takahashi Ryosuke stared down at the engine and felt his mind stirring. Compact, powerful, efficient and light. It was an ideal powerplant for his purposes, and it would definitely feel stronger than the somewhat primitive 12A he had experienced before.

"So this is a 13BT?" he asked, reaching out to touch the turbocharger and the intercooler.

"Yes, and a great motor. Responsive to tuning, high-revving, and incredibly smooth. I could set you up with a few people I know in the area if you wanted, they could help you bring this up to 911-killing levels in a short amount of time," the salesman said with a smile. Ryosuke let himself smile as well, for half a moment.

"Can I drive it?" he asked. The key was in his palm in less than a minute, still warm from the salesman's touch.

"Is it proper to drive the showroom model?"

"No, this is for one of the cars outside. You see that white one?" he asked, pointing it out. Ryosuke glanced at the car through the front window of the dealership's office and felt a smile spreading across his lips.

"Who put the wheels on it?" he asked.

"Oh those? Someone came to buy the car and had put the wheels on, but he had to return it because he couldn't make the payments. Very low kilometers, maybe 100 kilometers at most. He had taken it from here to a shop, had them do some work to it, and that's where we took it back from," the salesman said.

"It won't be the exact same as this black model here, because of the wheels and a few other things, but it will give you the basic idea. Perfect for a young man such as yourself."

Once outside, Ryosuke knelt down and ran his hands over the five-spoke wheels.

"Rota? Work? Volk? Mazdaspeed? Watanabe?" he wondered, but any labels there had been were missing. They looked light enough and, curling his fingers around the spokes, they were hollow.

"Ready to drive?"

"I guess so. You don't mind if I try it out on a favorite road of mine, do you?" Ryosuke asked innocently enough, as innocently as he could manage.

"Sure, that's fine. As long as we're back in thirty minutes."

Fifteen minutes later the man was an unhealthy pale white, his skin glistening with sweat and his eyes screwed tight.

"Please sir!" he cried out again, for what felt like the fifteenth time. Ryosuke smiled again, mentally taking notes of the car's abilities and shortcomings.

"Alright, we're back," Ryosuke said, letting the engine idle for a few moments before shutting it off, giving the turbocharger a chance to cool down its bearings.

"And were you interested in purchasing the showroom model?"

"No," Ryosuke said, running his hand over the steering wheel, "I like this one."

"This is corner two from the top! Blackbird passed by ten seconds ago and we still haven't seen Ryosuke. Wait! He's eighteen seconds behind!" The white FC screamed downhill, its engine at the redline and tires frantically scrabbling for grip. Fumihiro looked at his radio and shook his head, making eye contact with Keisuke for a moment.

"Ego," was all the younger Takahashi could say, and Fumihiro began to agree with him.

"Is he drifting or gripping?" he asked.

Blackbird dove into the next corner, the rear tires threatening to break loose at any second. Without the gutters it would be dangerous to push the car any harder, and Tatsuya backed off the throttle just a bit, just enough for the car to stabilize.

"I'm far ahead of him," Tatsuya said, "so I can afford to be a little cautious. Even if he catches up to me by the hairpins, he doesn't think I can use the gutters. I'll be able to surprise him and win before he can react."

Fifteen seconds later the white FC appeared at the entry of the corner, charging through at maximum speed and shaving the apex so close that the spectators jumped away from the rail. Clicking his stopwatch, Kenta felt a smile grow on his face as he picked up the radio.

"This is corner three, Ryosuke has picked up three seconds. He's only fifteen seconds behind now!" he shouted excitedly.

"That's good," Fumihiro said to Keisuke.

"It's only good if he can keep it up. It might just be a fluke. I want my brother to win, Fumihiro, but after racing for Project D for so long I'm not the optimist I used to be. I don't have that absolute faith in my brother anymore, not since he's been defeated by Fujiwara, or this whole FC and FD mess."

"I still believe he can do it," Takumi said, stepping up behind them.

"It figures you would," Keisuke snorted.

"You did very well out there for a beginner. I've never seen someone take to the course like that, with such skill. How many times have you raced before?"

"A few, five I think. Haven't lost yet," Ryosuke replied with pride. The white FC was instrumental in his success, its power and handling giving him the mechanical advantage over a number of his competitors. It had also made him somewhat notorious on the mountain roads he took on his way home from the races, roads where he drove without restraint, aggravating the racers that congregated there when he beat them down the mountain.

It was when he heard what they were calling him that he began to drift away from the legal world of autocross, gymkhana, and circuit racing and took to the illegal world of drift. The White Comet of Akagi. His illegal turbocharger upgrade had sealed the deal, prompting his permanent exit from the rule-driven world of circuit racing and into the arms of the touge racers. It was as the White Comet that he battled and defeated opponents that were the long-standing gods of street racing, earning their scorn and respect, and it was all behind the wheel of his faithful FC.

Tatsuya glanced in his mirror and felt surprise when he noticed that there was still no sign of headlights.

"I expected more from such a legend," he said, truly disappointed. He kept driving to the utmost of his abilities, however, curious to see if he would set a new course record with Blackbird, and hoping that Ryosuke would somehow catch up.

"Pass or fail, student Takahashi," he said, mashing the gas on the short straightaway.

Ryosuke ran his analysis again, counting the corners and the timing and hoping he would get it right. There was only one chance, and if the timing was off by even the slightest amount, the whole attack would be worthless. It would be difficult to pull off, but strange if he couldn't manage it. His medical career would hang in the balance.

"This is corner twelve! Blackbird is on course to break the record time by three seconds!"

"How far behind is my brother?" Keisuke asked, taking the radio from Fumihiro's hand.

"Ten seconds."

"He's picking up the pace. Do you think he'll be able to pass Tatsuya?" Fumihiro asked. Keisuke shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Takumi, a ghost of his former hope showing in his eyes.

"Who knows. He's my brother after all."

"I can't believe you beat me," he said, shutting the door of his white R32 in disbelief, staring at the FC with shocked eyes.

"You can believe it if you want, or you can deny it, but what you can't deny is that I was over the line first, which means I beat you, which you have already admitted, Daichi," Ryosuke said, relishing his victory.

"To think people go insane over these damn cars," Daichi said, shaking his head and staring at the GT-R with contempt.

"What's your name?" Ryosuke asked.

"Daichi Yoshiro. I usually race Honda stuff, but a friend of mine was out of town and let me borrow his GT-R for the week. I thought I'd show my sister how the touge should be run in a proper car, but you seem to have bested me."

"Who's this?" a slender young girl asked, hopping lightly out of the passenger seat and walking up to join the two young men talking in the glow of the headlights.

"Akiko, this is Takahashi Ryosuke, he's the driver of the FC we just battled. Ryosuke, my younger sister, Daichi Akiko." Ryosuke looked at the young woman and smiled, a happy feeling flooding through him as she returned the grin.

"Nice car," she said with another warm smile. "What is it?"

"It's an FC. My FC."

"Ryosuke is eight seconds behind! Something's wrong, his lights stopped working!" Takumi felt a smile breaking out on his face when he heard that, and Keisuke saw it.

"Something the two of you have been working on?" he asked. Takumi shook his head.

"No, it's not something we've been working on. He wouldn't be your brother if he couldn't learn from everyone around him. He's got the memory and the analytical abilities to do it, and with the FC, he's got a chance at succeeding."

"That's an unusually intelligent response from you, Fujiwara. I guess my brother's abilities have been rubbing off on everyone these days," Keisuke grumbled.

Tatsuya glanced in his rear view mirror, something red flashing in his peripheral vision. With a shake of his head he focused on the road ahead, pushing the 911 harder now that the curves were getting tighter. Downshifting to make the next corner, Tatsuya narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering what it was he had heard. Somewhere on the very edge of his hearing ability, something that wasn't his car. It was an engine revving up, but a half second behind his own. An echo?

Ryosuke felt a predatory smile spread slowly across his face as he nudged the front bumper of the FC closer and closer to Blackbird's fire-breathing exhaust tips. It would take every last ounce of his skill to maintain the deadly gap without destroying both cars. Tatsuya revved up again, and Ryosuke followed suit as quickly as he could, keeping up the illusion that there was just an echo following the Porsche downhill.

"This is the final turn before the hairpins! We've lost sight of the FC. Wait!"

"So, five wins in a row, huh?" he asked, looking at the white FC, its headlights still taped and the racing numbers plastered on the sides. Ryosuke nodded.

"I heard you do some racing on the streets. Is that true?" It was a dangerous question. Those who raced on the streets were looked down upon for being without discipline, without the ability to analyze their actions and reactions.

"I have," Ryosuke replied, giving little away. The other man narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the fender of his Evo III.

"Takahashi, let's race."

"Sorry Kyouichi, I'm afraid if I raced you on the street, I'd push you to your death."

"What makes you think you're so good?" Sudo replied angrily. "We may race in different classes, but our circuit times are almost identical. You can't deny that. Unless you're afraid I'd win on the street, Ryosuke."

"Someday, Kyouichi, you'll learn the difference between racing on the circuit versus racing on the street. I can't show you now, but I will soon enough. Have patience, you'll lose to me before the year is out."

Tatsuya caught something in the corner of his eye. His brake lights were reflecting off of something white, something very close behind. Ryosuke's FC was on his tail, driving with his lights off.

"Can he really do that?" Tatsuya asked in wonder, before shaking his head and beginning his attack. The first gutter was rapidly approaching. If he began now, it would still give Ryosuke four chances to recover. It would have to be halfway through. Any earlier and he would fail in his attack.

"It's risky to slow down with him on my tail so closely, but I need to make him stumble," Tatsuya said, hitting the brakes hard to make the first turn. For whatever reason, Ryosuke held behind him.

The second hairpin corner flew past, and again Ryosuke held back, for reasons unknown. Tatsuya smiled.

"You're mistaken, Ryosuke. Bad student." At the third hairpin turn Tatsuya dropped his wheels into the gutter, using the entry-oriented technique Takumi had shown him. Ryosuke felt his eyes widen slightly in surprise as the Porsche rapidly accelerated away, disappearing from his vision. Without another thought he dropped his own wheels into the gutter, using the exit-oriented technique and catching up, switching his headlights back on as he caught up with the Porsche.

"Damn," Tatsuya said, frustrated that his maneuver hadn't affected Ryosuke in the slightest. At the fourth hairpin he dropped the Porsche back in and opened the throttle wider until he could hear the rear suspension's control arms creaking from the strain, but still the FC hung on, desperately fighting for every millimeter. It was at the fifth hairpin that the race would be won, and both understood it. Tatsuya dropped Blackbird in and opened the throttle all the way, the engine bellowing and the suspension screaming in pain as the g-forces overwhelmed the Porsche. With a horrific metallic screech the Porsche's trailing arm bent outward, exaggerating its toe-out and sending the car flying out of the gutter. As Ryosuke darted past, still secure in the gutter, Tatsuya's feet danced and his hands flew as he forced Blackbird into a spin, correcting the car's heading and immediately chasing after the FC, having lost only three car lengths.

The two thundered down the final straights, Blackbird edging up closer and closer until the two entered the final corner side by side. Ryosuke felt his mind flashing back to the last time he had dove through the corner, pursued by Fujiwara Bunta. For a moment he felt the deepest urge to hit the brakes, but with a shaking heart he kept his foot to the floor and shot through the corner, two seconds over the line before Tatsuya. Ryosuke slammed on the brakes and brought the FC to a halt, Blackbird grinding to a stop next to him.

"Good race?"

"Good race."

"I'm impressed with your abilities, Ryosuke. I thought that you were going to lose and save your place as a medical student under my tutelage," Tatsuya said, resting in the passenger seat of the white FC as Ryosuke drove down Akina once more, showing Tatsuya his driving line.

"Does this mean I need to move on?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yes, it does. I can't have one of my students capable of driving better than me. I'm recommending that you be moved to another department, to work with Dr. Toshiya. Have you ever met Joushima? He seems more like your kind of driver." Ryosuke chuckled to himself. It would take a miracle to make him forget God Hand.

"Once I get Blackbird repaired, you should come to the Wangan, I'd like you to ride with me one night while I go hunting for the Devil Z. It's not quite your style, but I think you would appreciate it," Tatsuya said, suddenly stiffening in his seat.

"What's that?" he asked. Ryosuke glanced in his mirror and felt his eyebrows furrow.

"It doesn't look like Takumi, but whoever it is, they certainly drive like him," Tatsuya said, swiveling around in his seat to get a better look.

"That's Fujiwara up there," Ryosuke said, catching up to the hachi-roku on a short straight section of Akina. The white blur from behind shot past the FC, tapped its brakes, and dove to the inside of the corner, screaming past the hachi-roku.

"What was that?" Tatsuya asked.

"I don't know."