White Comet Downfall

by Kevin Griffis

With Ryosuke's FC trashed he steps up to a new potent machine, but as he recovers from his crash, an ancient rival surfaces demanding blood.

"Hey, are you Takahashi Keisuke?" the man asked. Kenta turned around and shook his head, pointing to the tall blond-headed racer leaning on a brilliant yellow FD.

"Takahashi Keisuke?" he tried again.

"Yes?"

"Are you the brother of Takahashi Ryosuke?"

"Yes, he's my older brother. Who are you?" Keisuke asked suspiciously.

"My name is Daichi Yoshiro. Your brother and I had history together a long time ago. I had to leave this country on family business a number of years ago, but I'm back now, and I want my chance at revenge."

"Revenge?" Keisuke asked, completely confused. Ryosuke had never mentioned anyone named Yoshiro, but then again, it might have happened when he was running with his gang and completely cut off from the rest of his family.

"Tell him my name and he will know who I am. It is not important for you to be mixed up in this. Do not protect him, Keisuke. Tell him that the Grim Reaper is coming for him." With that, Yoshiro walked away, opening the gleaming yellow door of his 1992 Honda NSX Type-R and getting inside. Keisuke watched with an astonished look on his face as the potent midship monster started up, its V6 roaring with power. As it accelerated off, Keisuke heard the distinctive sound of two blowoff valves. The NSX was turbocharged!

"Who was that?" Kenta asked.

"Someone for my brother," he replied.

"What did he want?"

"A challenge. Kenta, did you hear the turbochargers on that car?" Keisuke asked, unwilling to believe his ears.

"Yeah, I did. It was a Type-R, wasn't it? They came from the factory lightened, with a blueprinted engine and a more aggressive transmission. With twin turbos, it must be making an unholy amount of horsepower," Kenta said, watching the red tail lights finally disappear around one of Akagi's numerous corners. Keisuke walked over to Fumihiro's MR2 and got inside.

"Where are you going?" Kenta asked.

"Hospital, to tell my brother. Keep the team cleaning up, Kenta," Keisuke said, starting his engine and driving off quickly.

"Daichi Yoshiro, eh?" his brother asked weakly, his eyes closed as he laid quietly on the bed.

"Do you know him?" Keisuke asked.

"I knew him before the Red Suns, when I was racing by myself, while you were in your gang. We had a number of battles, but the one that counted, I won. He had to leave the country shortly after, and didn't get the chance to challenge me. He swore he would though. I guess he's come back and making good on the promise."

"He called himself the Grim Reaper." Ryosuke sighed, closing his eyes.

"Before he left he went by the name Grim Reaper, and I was the White Comet of Akagi. They were our stage names, what we told the reporters so the police wouldn't track us down. He loved Honda, and I loved Mazda. He and I would race constantly, gymkhana, street, togue, anything we could find. It was his sister that drove us apart," Ryosuke admitted in a surprisingly shy voice for such a charismatic man.

"As famous street racers, you and I have been drowned in adoring girls. They know little or nothing about drift and, when confronted with it, become scared and angry, as you experienced first hand," Ryosuke said. Keisuke blushed slightly at the mention of his ex.

"She was different. She drifted herself, in a Mazda, which broke poor Yoshiro's heart. He wanted her to drive a Honda so badly."

"What happened to her?" Keisuke asked. Ryosuke sighed again and closed his eyes, listening to the hum of the hospital before responding, his eyes still closed.

"She died."

"How?"

"While drifting. Akiko loved to practice in the rain. It saved her money on tires, and it enabled her to get the car sliding even though it was low on power."

"What did she drive?" Keisuke asked, even though it had no bearing on it.

"An FB. The first generation RX-7, with the 12A rotary. With all the tuning we did to it, her brother and I, it still barely pushed one fifty at the crank. She was out one night, pushed it too hard to beat my time, and lost it. At that time the guard rails on Akagi weren't as strong as they are now. She broke through and the car fell into the valley. The old car crumbled on impact. He blamed me."

"But it wasn't your fault!"

"Of course it wasn't. He didn't believe that, nor did I. But it gave him a way of coping with the grief, and since it was my time she was trying to beat, I felt responsible. After that, there was no other girl for me. I took to the road, solitary. He did the same, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Dressing in black, driving a black car. We battled fiercely, over and over again for three years. He left Japan to go to America on some family business of some kind, but he promised me that when he returned, he would have his final revenge. I can only hope," Ryosuke said with some effort, "that he has regained his sanity."

"Regained, brother?"

"He became deranged for some time, racing on an entirely different level. Rather than smooth purity, his line was chaotic. It was impossible to predict his movements because he himself didn't know what move he would make. Defeating him became almost impossible, which is why my FC ended up with over 350 HP. I beat him when it counted, but he wanted a rematch. I guess this is it," Ryosuke said, falling asleep.

Keisuke stood up and closed the curtains around his brother's bed before leaving. The crash had not only hurt him, but the exertions of the evening, the unending battles, had eradicated any remaining strength. His words were troubling. With such a dangerous sport as drifting, an uncontrolled driver could mean death.

"Dad, I'm going home," Keisuke said as he passed by his father.

"Alright. Has his car been taken care of?"

"Fumihiro is taking care of it. I'll go back to make sure it's done," Keisuke said before leaving. Sitting inside Fumihiro's MR2, he let his head rest against the steering wheel. The FD was almost certainly trashed, with its engine guzzling oil and coolant at the rate it had been. Fumihiro was kind enough to let him borrow his car while he took care of the tow truck.

Back at the base of Mt. Akina, Fumihiro and the Red Suns had just finished winching the mangled remains of the FC onto the back of the truck, leaving behind a small field of shattered glass and debris on the road. As Kenta led a group of sweepers, Keisuke walked up to Fumihiro.

"Any trouble?"

"The police came by but thought we were the cleanup crew, so they left without any issue," Fumihiro said.

"Good. Fumihiro, my brother was challenged."

"Challenged? But he's been in the hospital for three hours."

"Apparently the challenger has been out of town for a while," Keisuke said with a smile as twisted as the FC's remains. Keisuke looked at the car and sighed sadly, shaking his head.

"My brother loved this car. He's had it forever. His blood is in this car," he said, "literally," he added with a frown as he saw a thin trickle that had dripped down the driver side door.

"Does he know that it's beyond repair?" Fumihiro asked.

"Probably so, but I won't be the one to tell him. I want to find out what he's getting next," Keisuke said with a smile.

"Ryosuke's new car, that would be impressive to see. What do you think he would get?" Kenta asked.

"I don't know, I think it would be something magnificent though," Keisuke replied.

"Only a rotary engine would do for Takahashi Ryosuke," Fumihiro concluded, getting into the truck and driving off.

"How are you doing?" Keisuke asked.

"Better. It's been a few days now, I feel better. I need you to do something for me though," Ryosuke said, sitting up in bed and wincing as his foot moved.

"What's that, bro?"

"I need you to go and purchase a car for me." Keisuke smiled, filled with happy anticipation.

"What'll it be? Another FC?"

"No. At this address, you'll find a white FD. It's a Spirit R Type A. Purchase it for me and bring it around to Fumihiro, with this list of modifications he is to perform. This check is for the agreed-upon price. If he has any issues, use this second check. The third check is for Fumihiro, so he can get his job done. Tell him he has two months. My injuries will be healed by then, and I'll be willing to accept Yoshiro's challenge."

"Spirit R?" Keisuke said, taking the checks in his hand, his eyes rising at the numbers written on them.

"There were only five hundred made. Special runout edition. Worth it," Ryosuke said, flopping back down on the bed. Keisuke glanced at the list, most of it in the bizarre shorthand Ryosuke and Fumihiro used for Project D's secret settings.

"You and your scribble," Keisuke said, folding the list and putting it into his pocket.

"Hurry. I told him you would be there in half an hour. Have they repaired your FD yet?"

"Not yet, the apex seals were trashed. Too much boost. He wanted to wait on your decision before doing anything to the car."

"It's your car, Keisuke. Do with it as you will. The only caveat is that your money must finance the alterations. Remember what I've taught you."

"Alright. Is this the address?"

"Yes. Don't fail. Call me when you have it in Fumihiro's hands."

Keisuke looked at the white FD with skepticism in his eyes.

"This is worth all this money?" he asked, peering through the window at the red interior.

"To this man, it is," the seller replied.

"Well, if he says so," Keisuke said, handing over the first check.

"Your brother is honorable. My pleasure dealing with him. Here are all the keys I have. There's a container of oil in the back. Good day to you," he said, walking away calmly, his hands shaking slightly with the incredible check they held.

Keisuke slipped into the red Recaro driver seat and put the key in the ignition, cranking up the 13B-REW. It caught quickly, idling happily. With the temperature and pressure gauges in their proper positions, he pushed the shifter into first gear with a precise snick and let out the clutch. The car jumped forward, considerably more powerful than a normal stock FD. After the first few corners, Keisuke knew why his brother had chosen the car.

"How did you find this gem?" he asked the silence. Pushing on the brakes Keisuke was surprised at the firmness of the pedal, more like the brakes in his highly modified FD than a stock car.

"With such a base to build from, what kind of car will my brother build?"

In a much shorter time than usual, Keisuke was idling the new FD into the garage under Fumihiro's careful directions.

"A little bit more, a bit more, a bit more. Good, leave it. How do you like it, Keisuke?" he asked, as Matsumoto arrived outside.

"It's impressive," he answered. "My brother has always had good taste in cars. I was wondering when he would step up and get himself an FD," Keisuke said with a smile. The white coupe was incredibly potent as it sat. Remembering, Keisuke handed over the list and check to Fumihiro, who glanced at both and whistled.

"It will be more than impressive in a short while. Keisuke, borrow one of the cars around back. We won't be able to fix your FD for a while. Forgive me, but your brother's directions are very specific and will require a great amount of effort to finish in the time allotted."

"I figured as much," Keisuke said, walking around back.

Glancing at the cars, he sighed in disgust. A Honda Beat was sitting in a corner looking like an abandoned puppy, while a Suzuki Cappuccino and an Autozam AZ-1 huddled together for warmth. He glanced for a moment at a Starlet, then shook his head sadly. Sighing, it looked like the best choice of the lot was a battered Supra.

"Fumihiro! Where's the Supra key?" Keisuke shouted.

"Blown headgasket. Try the Starlet," Fumihiro shouted, tossing a set of keys over to him. Keisuke caught the key and looked at it sadly, almost about to cry.

"It's just transportation, Keisuke," Fumihiro said gently. Keisuke closed his fist on the key until his knuckles turned white, then turned around and out to the back. Matsumoto began laughing when he heard the Starlet's 1000cc motor turn over.

"You're cruel. Why didn't you let him drive the Soarer we had? Or the S15?" Matsumoto asked.

"I didn't think he'd actually drive it," Fumihiro admitted between laughs.

"Shh, here he comes," Matsumoto said, pointing to the dirty red hatchback as it pulled around front, Keisuke looking comically out of place as he put the car into neutral and waited for traffic to clear. As a break in traffic appeared, he put the car into gear and revved up the massive 1.0 liter engine, slipping the clutch. Keisuke slammed his head against the steering wheel, shook it to clear his vision, and then puttered off into traffic.

"What was that all about?" Matsumoto asked.

"When a driver launches the car, he expects it to push him back in the seat. Some people counteract this by leaning forward, using their abdominal muscles to hold them steady under the force of acceleration. It looks like our FD-driving ace failed to realize the massive differences in acceleration between his FD, Ryosuke's new Spirit R, and that Starlet."

"Hmm. What's on the list?"

"See for yourself," Fumihiro said, handing it over.

"That poor car," Matsumoto eventually mumbled. "Everything is being modified. What's the point in getting such an incredible car if all the parts that make it incredible are going to be changed?"

"Ryosuke's money, his choice. Let's get to work."

Keisuke walked slowly out of the hospital with his brother alongside, crutch under his good arm, favoring his injured ankle, his other arm bound firmly in a sling.

"Are you sure you should be walking?" he asked, watching as Ryosuke winced along.

"Yes. Where's your car?" Ryosuke asked testily.

"Fumihiro has been too busy with yours, he hasn't fixed mine yet. He let me borrow a car though. It took a few weeks, but it's starting to grow on me," Keisuke admitted as he opened the passenger door of the Starlet. Ryosuke looked from the car to his brother and back again, silently contemplating the strength of his painkillers and if there were any hallucinogenic effects.

"Alright, where to?" Keisuke asked, starting up the 1000cc motor with a wheezing cough.

"Fumihiro. I want to see my new car," Ryosuke said, closing his eyes and resting in the thinly-padded seat. Keisuke put the car into gear and drove, secretly enjoying the tiny little car and its weak motor. With the Starlet he could put his foot all the way to the floor without worrying about torque overwhelming the available traction of the tires. He weaved the little car through the corners, enjoying its rear wheel drive and being able to easily overwhelm the car's capabilities at less than legal speeds. Ryosuke opened an eye and focused it on Keisuke's face, his eyebrow arching slightly before resting once more.

At the shop, Fumihiro helped a mildly protesting Ryosuke out of the Starlet. The elder Takahashi clomped into the garage and rested a hand that shivered with delight on the gleaming white fender of the Spirit R. The hood was off, the wheels were gone and the suspension scattered throughout the shop, but the body was there and shining.

"I seem to have arrived at an opportune moment," Ryosuke said with a smile. Matsumoto was wheeling over an engine hoist at that moment, and with Fumihiro's help, the 13B-REW was soon being gently removed from the engine bay.

"Why are you taking out the engine?" Keisuke asked. "Putting in stronger apex seals?"

"No," Ryosuke said, "putting in a new engine. If you want this one, Keisuke, you can have it. It makes about three hundred horsepower as it stands, with better engine management than the 13B-REW in your FD. You should be able to top 400 HP with proper tuning."

"What are you putting in?" Keisuke asked, stunned as Matsumoto wheeled the engine over to the yellow FD.

"That," Ryosuke replied, pointing to another rotary engine. Something about it was different. It looked longer, and the intake manifold was different.

"What is it?" Keisuke asked.

"Count the runners, aniki," Ryosuke replied. Keisuke leaned over and touched the runners, counting them off.

"One, two, three, four, five, six," he said in shock. "This is a 20B-REW!"

"You would be correct. Plenty of power stock, with even more potential than the 13B-REW I've just given you for free. Torque and horsepower is what I need to defeat the Grim Reaper," Ryosuke said, sitting down on a work bench while Matsumoto wrenched away.

"If he's calling himself the Grim Reaper, why does he drive a yellow car?" Keisuke asked.

"Yellow?" Ryosuke asked sharply.

"Yeah, yellow. A yellow NSX Type-R. I told you all about it," Keisuke said defensively. Ryosuke looked deeply troubled, staring at his RX-7 with unfocused eyes.

"He drove black cars when his line was chaotic and out of control, but he threatened of a time when he would be able to control the chaotic line, and he would drive a car that was Akiko's favorite color. The NSX Type-R will definitely be a challenge, but this FD should be able to keep up with him. It's been so long since I've raced against him, I can barely remember what his style was like. He's one of the few people at my skill level," Ryosuke said calmly, his face still troubled.

"Better than myself or Fujiwara?" Keisuke asked.

"On the same level as God Arm and God Foot."

"And you think you can beat him all banged up like that?"

"I aim to try," Ryosuke replied. "I've defeated God Sight, haven't I? The Grim Reaper will be another step. It won't be easy, but I will defeat him," Ryosuke said strongly, putting a hand on the Spirit R.

Fumihiro leaned back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, glancing over at Matsumoto and Ryosuke still poking around with another component of the Spirit R. It had been some time since the engine had gone in, and Ryosuke's arm was almost fully healed, but there was still much more to go to finish the car.

"Ryosuke, don't you ever rest?" he asked.

"Can't afford to," came the stoic reply.

"But think of all you've done. Light weight rotors for the 20B-REW. New turbochargers. Better fuel system, more open air induction setup. It's making over four hundred horsepower, well over. Light weight chromoly flywheel, heavy duty clutch, even a carbon fiber driveshaft. Ryosuke-san, you've left nothing untouched on this car. What was the point in purchasing such an incredible vehicle if you were going to alter every single thing on it?"

"The better a base you start from, the higher you can reach. Besides, the engine that came out of this car will go into Keisuke's and replace his burnt-up motor. Have you been able to make any progress with his FD?" he asked.

"We've got the engine in and hooked up, but he hasn't been around to help with the small stuff and the tuning," Matsumoto replied, setting down an incredibly large intercooler.

"Where has he been?"

"Running around in that Starlet. I don't know why, Ryosuke, but he's in love with that little car. There's something about it that just captivates him. He's come in more than a few times to borrow the tire machine to put on some tires, he's balanced the wheels, and we saw him in here one time doing an oil change. You'd be surprised at how nice it looks. He shined it up well," Fumihiro said, shaking his head. What had he done to Keisuke?

"Hmm," was all Ryosuke would say before turning back to the task at hand. They were in the middle of installing a set of blueprinted factory turbochargers, with the goal of keeping their low-rev and high-rev actuation, but enabling more boost to be created. If successful, the monstrous 20B-REW would be even more potent. As it sat, the shining white Spirit R was a lethal rear wheel drive weapon, fully capable of killing anyone that made the slightest mistake. It was beginning to exude the same aura that the FC did in its prime, an aura visible on any car tuned by Takahashi Ryosuke. Even Nakazato's old R32 had a spark of that aura. It was the manifestation of the incredible care, precision, and love that Ryosuke poured into all of his projects.

"With all this power, won't you have to worry about tire wear?" Fumihiro asked. Ryosuke nodded, giving the turbochargers one last pat with his good arm.

"Unfortunately, yes. It's a necessary evil to be able to defeat him. I don't know if we'll be racing uphill or downhill, so I need the power. But there's a certain point where more power is wasted. You know what I'm talking about, Fumihiro."

"I do," he replied. "I think the upper limit for power on the downhill is around three hundred or so. You yourself lowered the power of your FC when you first fought Fujiwara. More power can be deadly on the downhill. On the uphill, however, you can deal with substantially more power because you have to overcome the mountain."

"It is my belief that on the downhill, an average FR can run 250 HP without becoming deadly. Upgrading the suspension and equipping stickier tires allows another fifty. Using that logic, Fujiwara's AE86 could handle roughly three hundred horsepower before becoming wasteful and inefficient. On the uphill, the more power you have the better. The Suzuki Pikes Peak racers have had close to one thousand horsepower numerous times, if that's an indication."

"But Ryosuke-san, with all these modifications, you'll be well over four hundred horsepower. Will you be able to control it on the downhill?" Matsumoto asked.

"Just barely. Racing against Fujiwara's father showed me a new technique. I'm not sure he was even aware that I was learning from him, but he showed me a new technique and I aim to make use of it. Much like Keisuke is doing right now," he added, as the red Starlet pulled into the garage.

"What new technique?" Keisuke asked as he walked in.

"You drive that KP60 all day, don't you?" Ryosuke asked.

"Yeah, I do. I like it," he admitted with a grin.

"Do you know why you like it?" Ryosuke pressed, analyzing his brother as he stood there.

"Not really. It's quieter than the FD, it doesn't guzzle gas, and it's fun to drive like a maniac. I can have fun at one quarter the speed of the FD. The car's limits are so low that I can get enormous enjoyment out of it, when with the FD I have to be traveling many times the speed limit to get the same rush," Keisuke admitted, mildly surprised that he knew the answer.

"There we go," Ryosuke said. "With its small motor and low power, as well as the rear wheel drive, you're learning things about your driving style that you didn't know before, aren't you?"

"Kind of," Keisuke replied slowly. "With the FD I don't have to think as much about cornering and braking, because I can make up for it with the throttle and with the car's monster grip. This car forces me to keep my momentum going, to rush into corners as fast as I can. I think if I got in the FD now, I would be much faster."

"And you would. You used to think I was jealous of your FD while I drove the FC. I wasn't. You went from stealing cars to owning the best handling car made in Japan. I felt for you because you never had that intermediate step to learn what it meant to drive while conserving momentum, to push the car to its absolute limit. That's one of the reasons Fujiwara is so potent, all he's had to drive has been that hachi-roku. His driving style was formed by the car's abilities and became greater than the sum of its parts. Your driving style was shaped by different means. Keep the Starlet, Keisuke, and save your FD for races. You'll learn more in the next month then you would if you practiced in the FD every night."

Takumi yawned desperately, rolling out of bed and stumbling downstairs step by step, his mind unwilling to completely wake up. The smooth burble from outside announced the Impreza's presence, marking yet another delivery without the hachi-roku.

"I thought the Trueno was my car," he grumbled as he flopped into the Impreza's seat.

"It was, and then it was destroyed and I rebuilt it with my money. When you work off your debt to me, you can have it back for good, but right now it's mine again. You should be happy I let you race with it, and the Impreza. Ungrateful child," Bunta added, loading up the tofu and shutting the trunk. Takumi rolled his eyes, yawned again, and then shook his head to wake up. Taking the cup of water from his father, he put the Impreza in gear and took off.

Bunta watched him go and smiled. The wear on the Impreza's tires was showing the beginning of a new driving style for Takumi, one that would treat him well. He was accepting the all wheel drive and quickly reaching a masterful level. The hachi-roku sat nearby, under a new cover, its tires just barely peeking out. Putting out his cigarette, he whisked the cover off the Trueno and climbed inside, starting up the engine with a devilish smile. He was going hunting.

Takumi had finished his delivery and was headed downhill, puttering along for the moment and idly daydreaming. Ryosuke and Keisuke had been unavailable for quite some time, and the last he had seen of Keisuke was the younger Takahashi screaming sideways through a corner in a diminutive red car of some sort on one of Akagi's tighter corners. Shaking his head, he noticed a set of yellowed headlights in the mirror rapidly growing larger.

"Fast," he said to himself, noticing with a sickening feeling that the headlights were achingly familiar, framing a black carbon fiber hood and a glistening clean windshield.

"Shitty old man," he grumbled, downshifting and flooring the Impreza, diving ahead and grinning to himself as the turbo spooled up, the engine's massive power shoving him deeply into his seat. The 86's headlights shrank quickly, but to his shock, they began to grow again.

The two cars dove into the corner, equal at the entrance, but when the apex came, the two drivetrains made their unique differences known. Takumi in the Impreza felt the powerful car forging ahead, its front wheels gripping and pulling the coupe through. With a shock, he saw the AE86 drifting on the outside, dead even with him and overtaking at the end of the curve. Down the straightaway the Impreza leapt ahead as its massive torque surged through the powertrain, but the AE86 caught up at the end of the straight and once again overtook in the middle of the turn. Down the mountain the two fought, the Impreza passing the 86 over and over again in the first few seconds of any straight, but being overtaken by the end of any corner. Through the five hairpins the two cars dove for the gutters, the hachi-roku popping out of the last hairpin with particular violence before rocketing off, establishing a lead that it kept for the rest of Mt. Akina's downhill, no matter how hard Takumi pushed the Impreza.

"What's wrong with the Impreza?" Bunta asked outside the tofu shop, an eyebrow arched in concern.

"Nothing's wrong with it. You just drive like an idiot," Takumi replied, reaching out to touch the hood of his car. Bunta arched his eyebrow again and Takumi withdrew his hand.

"When can I drive my car again?" he begged.

"Not right now. You haven't paid off your debt to me," Bunta replied, turning on his heel and walking into the shop. Takumi sighed and followed him inside, dejected and beaten.

Keisuke screamed through another corner, the pathetic tires rolling over on themselves and giving the car a sudden wild fit of understeer at the worst moment possible. The Starlet shuddered along, its tires making horrific scrubbing noises as it slid off the road and into a ditch, coming to a sudden stop with a gentle bump against the guardrail. Keisuke let go of the thin steering wheel and sat back in the complaining seat with its tattered cover and thought.

"If I hadn't pushed so damn hard into the corner and had gotten on the brakes sooner, I could have made that turn," he said. His mind visualized it well enough. The car had been at an angle, but the tread of the tires were still going straight, with the sidewall twisting to compensate between the two. When the car had attained too great of an angle for the sidewall to flex, the tire had snapped back into shape, spiking the load on the suspension and sending the car out of control. It was fun.

"Once more," he said, starting up the 1.0 liter engine with a grin. Going up Mt. Akagi was pure torture, but coming back down was fun to the point of hilarity as he tried to make the little car drift along, using every skill he possessed to coax the last ounce of performance out of the tired little Toyota.

"Fujiwara is a lucky one," he said as he nailed the apex of the next turn, the front wheels lightening slightly as he used weight shifting to get the car to turn faster. Sawing the wheel side to side to try and regain grip he continued to slide, the old tires, though perfectly balanced, lacking any semblance of tread or traction. This time a spin was imminent, but through quick use of all three pedals and a judicious application of the emergency brake, the car remained barely under control. Keisuke pumped his fist out the window as he streaked past an open-mouthed Kenta who was driving his own S14 downhill.

"If it's a battle you want," Kenta said grimly, "it's a battle you'll get!" He downshifted immediately, spinning up his SR20 and taking off after the rapidly disappearing Starlet. The two cars hurtled downhill, the S14 easily catching up to the Starlet as the two flew down a long straight, but a series of moderate s-curves were approaching and Kenta watched in shock as the Starlet three-legged its way through the first two, its body rolling so far that it pulled the inside rear wheel up off the ground, losing speed as its open differential sent power to the lifted wheel. The Starlet slammed back down and lurched off into the next corner, Keisuke grinning like mad as the S14 began to fall behind. Kenta shook his head and pushed harder.

"In the FD you are my superior, but in that car I would be dishonored if I couldn't pass you," Kenta said, forcing himself to drive faster.

The two cars kept at it, the S14's massive horsepower advantage beginning to take its toll. Coming into a tight right hander, Keisuke entered far too hot, spinning the car violently, hitting the rail with his front left fender in mid-spin, using the impact to send him pointing back toward the downhill. Kenta watched as his mentor's car spun, checked itself against the rail, pointed itself downhill and kept going as if nothing had happened.

"Like a dog cocking its leg to pee," he said, watching the Starlet lift an inside rear tire again as he finally forced his way past. Looking over at his mentor, Kenta was surprised to see Keisuke's face set in a demonic grin.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Kenta shouted from his open window.

"I'm playing," Keisuke roared back. "Catch me if you can!" he added, squirting forward with minimal violence from the 1000cc motor. Kenta followed him down Mt. Akagi and stopped at the base, getting out of his car and looking at the clean but diminutive little Toyota.

"Where did you dig this up?" he asked with curiosity in his voice.

"Fumihiro found it," Keisuke replied. "I needed a car while the FD is being repaired, and even though this wasn't my first choice, it's definitely grown on me. I think I'll keep it after the FD is fixed," he added, hopping back in the little Toyota that rocked and squeaked with his weight.

"How much longer until your FD is fixed?" Kenta asked hopefully.

"Well, I need to set aside some time to help them tune it. Ryosuke's new rule, I have to learn how to help tune the engine. Truth be told I'm having too much fun with this car to bother with it right now," Keisuke added before driving off. Kenta shook his head, feeling a headache coming on.

"This is bad. The Takahashi Brothers of the Rotary Engine aren't driving rotaries. Ryosuke has no car, and Keisuke is obsessed with a shitty Toyota. I need help," Kenta admitted, getting back into the S14 and driving up Mt. Akagi in pursuit of his mentor.

A long two months had passed, and with them many strange sights and sounds. The Starlet became a regular appearance on Akagi, its downhill speed increasing with every descent while its uphill climbs still pushed Keisuke's patience to the breaking point. The Grim Reaper swung his scythe, claiming the unfortunate souls that crossed his path. In his room, Ryosuke flexed his arm gently, rotating it through its full range of movement, wincing as it popped a few times, the joint slowly regaining its flexibility.

"It isn't fully healed," he said, looking at the pale and atrophied arm, "but the bone has knit." With a sigh he picked up his new set of keys, looking at them intently. The key to the Spirit R was both appealing to him and disgusting, lust and loathing combined.

"I don't know how I feel about this," he said minutes later, standing next to the potent machine. "On the one hand I know that I need the abilities of this car in order to have any success against Yoshiro, especially with my arm like this. But I miss my FC. I miss the challenge. This car the challenge isn't to go fast, but to go slow. To control it when it calls out for ultimate release. Using the full throttle of this car on the downhill, any downhill, would be suicidal. I've already broken one bone, I don't feel like breaking more." Ryosuke shook his head and climbed stiffly into the car. Slowly, carefully, he put the key in the ignition with his weak arm, biting his lip at the pain of fine control over his unwieldy limb, finally turning the key..

Electricity coursed from the battery through the necessary wiring to the starter, energizing the motor that spun the flywheel of the potent 20B-REW. The lightened rotors spun three times as the ECU injected fuel and fired the spark plugs until the combustion cycle began. With an uneasy high idle the engine warmed up before settling down to a stable 900 RPMs, the result of masterful and extraordinarily precise tuning. Ryosuke leaned back in the bucket seat and fastened his harness, noting with a grim smile the airbag in front of him. No more bashing his head on the windshield. Adjusting the rear view mirror he caught sight of the cage Fumihiro and Matsumoto had spent so much time installing, strengthening the already-stiff body of the FD. Ryosuke glanced around him at the plentiful carbon fiber and the evidence of the rampant weight reduction that had been undertaken at his request and he smiled.

Manipulating the short shifter into gear, he feathered the throttle and clutch and backed the Spirit R out of his parents driveway and out onto the public roads. The car's potent engine accelerated the FD violently even at half-throttle, inducing a state of incredible pleasure in Ryosuke's mind.

"My body might be weak, but my Spirit is strong," he said with a smile.

Fujiwara walked out to the alley and sat down with a discontented sigh as close to the Trueno as he could get without incurring his father's wrath. He was, in fact, sitting with his back against the Impreza's left rear wheel, arms folded over his knees, chin resting on his forearms, moping with all his might.

"It's not fair," he grumbled. "I don't care how fast the Impreza is, I want to drive my hachi-roku." Bunta slowed down for a moment and looked through the shop window at his son and smiled.

"Weaning is never easy," he muttered, remembering his own difficulties in adapting to a new car. It had made him better in the end though, and it was that thought that helped him be so heartless.

In the middle of his sulk, Takumi's ears perked up as a new strange sound tingled at the limit of his hearing. It had the familiar whir of a rotary engine, but it sounded deeper, bigger, more raw. The sound grew louder and angrier, until Fujiwara gaped at his mentor, Takahashi Ryosuke, sitting in the driver seat of a blindingly white new FD, its engine idling angrily and spitting occasional flames from the exhaust.

"Ryosuke-san?" Takumi asked in shock, getting up and walking over to the FD.

"Fujiwara, would you like to go for a drive?" he asked calmly, his pale face framed perfectly in the open window.

"Are you alright?" Takumi asked.

"My arm still hurts, but I need to begin practicing. I've been challenged, Fujiwara, and I need to win. Keisuke is too busy working on something else to help, but if you'd like to assist me, I need someone to chase down Akagi."

"I've only got the Impreza," Takumi said sadly. Ryosuke leaned back in his seat and Fujiwara, watching his lips, made out a few passionate silent curses. With a groan, Ryosuke got out of the FD and walked into the tofu shop, leaving Takumi sitting outside staring at the FD.

It was a monster. The low-slung car rested on gleaming lightweight alloy wheels, massive brake rotors and red calipers peeking through the spokes. Takumi could see part of the brand new coilovers as well, which were no doubt perfectly tuned. The flawless white body was actually a mixture of steel and carbon fiber, the two materials blended so perfectly it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. The hood was obviously not stock, with its deep vents cut into the center to keep the monstrous engine cool, but it looked the part. Ryosuke was above wasteful modifications and it showed. Sneaking a peek into the shop where the elder Takahashi was speaking with his father, Takumi leaned through the open window and popped the hood.

The carbon fiber hood weighed nothing in his hands as he lifted it, and he looked down at the engine and sucked in his breath in astonishment. What little he knew of rotary engines confirmed the fact that the FD wasn't supposed to have that under the hood. Gleaming pipes, a massive v-mount intercooler, and twin turbochargers were prominent in the spotless engine bay. Closing the hood again, Takumi turned around just in time to see Ryosuke throwing a set of keys at him.

"What are these?" Takumi asked, opening his hand and looking at the achingly familiar metal.

"Hachi-roku. I spoke with your father. You're allowed to use it only to race against me and must return it immediately afterward," Ryosuke said, favoring his weakened arm as he returned to the FD's supportive bucket seat. Takumi ran to the Trueno, whisked off the cover, and was soon trailing after the powerful FD.

Screaming through the corner with the steering wheel at full opposite lock, Takumi felt his heart singing and blood boiling as the tires screamed underneath him. The AE86 was an extension of his body as he flung it madly into the corner, engine at redline and tires begging for rest as he drifted down Akagin in hot pursuit of Ryosuke's FD. The monstrous car was almost impossible to catch, but he was doing his best. Every other round they would switch places, Ryosuke hunting after him in the FD while he attempted to escape in the 86. Even though it was pointless to chase the FD, Takumi felt his eyes burning with energy as he focused on the gleaming white coupe's movements, forcing the hachi-roku to go farther and faster than it had before in a desperate attempt to overtake.

The FD was slowing down, its incredible power a burden in some of the tighter corners where the slightest mistake would send its rear tires churning into smoke.

"Because of your greater power, you have to fight constantly not to use full throttle, while I can simply put my foot to the floor and overtake," Takumi said, coming within a few meters of his mentor's car. Ryosuke glanced in his rear view mirror and scowled.

"With this arm I can't drift like I normally do," he said, cursing his weak body and ignoring the dull agony of his ankle, "and all this damn power!" he cursed, suddenly feeling very angry. The FD's rear end came loose and the incredibly potent machine slid sideways and spun out, coming to a sudden stop facing uphill.

"Are you okay?" Takumi asked from his open window as he idled next to his mentor's car.

"Yes, fine," Ryosuke replied mechanically, rolling up his window, reorienting the car, and continuing downhill. It was too frustrating. The crash, the inactivity in the hospital, the return of the Grim Reaper and the death of his FC. Tears of frustration streaked his cheeks as he pushed the FD harder and harder, the emotions inside him threatening to take control.

"This won't do," he said quietly. "I've been the logical driver, free from emotion. Why am I so upset?" His mind flashed back to Akiko and he knew in a heartbeat why he was so frustrated. He had loved her deeply, even if it was just a crush like his parents had said. The emotions were real at the time, and they stood out over the passage of years. He felt responsible for her death, and yet the conflict was raging inside him.

"If I defeat Yoshiro, I continue to rebuild my racing legacy. If I lose, he gains closure." The ethics instilled in Ryosuke's mind by his countless medical courses waged war with his pride, with his ego, with his future. The Spirit R had been a massive expenditure and almost completely unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. Another FC would have been far more logical. Most of the modifications would have been the same, and he could have used less power. There was no need for such raw power. It made it difficult to drive the downhill without reserve. Always in the back of his mind was the reminder that if he used too much throttle, he would spin. There was no carefree plunge down the mountain like it used to be.

Keisuke's incredible fascination with the Starlet made sense. There was no fear of throttle-induced spins or having to hold back. He could rush downhill with everything he had, pouring forth all of his energy without reserve, without holding back. It was addictive, but damaging in its own way. Transitioning back into the yellow FD would take some readjustment.

"Everything will work out for the best," Ryosuke said out loud as the next downhill run began. It was his turn to chase the hachi-roku and, although he could keep up well enough, he still couldn't overtake.

Screaming through one of Akagi's wide s-curves, Ryosuke felt things beginning to fall into place. His weakened arm was able to hold the wheel while his strong left hand shifted, his bad ankle feathering the throttle as his good foot manipulated the clutch. The FD was beginning to behave. Pushing harder, Ryosuke's eyes slowly widened as he realized the car was still far from its ultimate limit. He pushed more, bringing the gleaming white bumper with its gaping mouth closer and closer to the fleeing hachi-roku until the reflection from his headlights disappeared.

"Alright!" Ryosuke shouted, ignoring the pain that coursed through his body as he threw the car into the next corner aggressively, pushing harder and harder until the Spirit R behaved exactly how he wanted it to.

"I was the limit," he said in shock, upshifting as the 20B-REW thrust the car forward with an intoxicating rush of torque and horsepower, "I was the limit. I drove this car like my FC. I didn't push hard enough." With an evil grin, he focused on the hachi-roku and began analyzing it for a chance to overtake.

Takumi glanced in his rearview mirror quickly, feeling the heavy probing gaze of his mentor burning the back of his neck. The FD had changed its driving style and was surrounded with a blazing aura as it pushed harder and harder, pressuring him more and more.

"Gutter," he said, diving for the inside gutter and hooking his tires, feeding the car full throttle as he screamed around the corner. The FD, without using the gutter, effortlessly overtook him in the corner and blitzed ahead before slamming on the brakes and letting the hachi-roku pass.

"What is he doing?" Takumi asked before shaking his head and making a desperate run for the finish line. The FD was toying with him, passing in the corners and then dropping back in the straights. Ryosuke was beginning to control the car as he wanted to.

Sweeping over the finish line in a dead heat, Takumi pulled the hachi-roku over to the side of the road and took a long pull from his water bottle.

"Tired?" Ryosuke asked, rubbing his weak arm and trying to hide the winces.

"Yeah," Fujiwara replied. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd be able to drive longer since I have the Trueno, but I just can't keep my eyes open."

"Understandable, we've been at this for a few hours," Ryosuke replied.

"Thank you."

"It's alright. Bring the car back to your father without delay and you can use it tomorrow. I'm going to need a lot of practice before I can defeat Yoshiro," Ryosuke said.

"What makes him so good?" Takumi asked.

"You remember Joushima's line, don't you?" Ryosuke responded.

"Of course."

"It's like that, except five times worse because Yoshiro himself can't control it. It's the chaotic line, and it is a devastating method of attack. The only weakness is that he can't control it himself. Any technique that can't be controlled, no matter how powerful it is, is inherently dangerous. He doesn't value his life though, which is why he uses it. He values nothing," Ryosuke said, suddenly realizing how true that statement was.

"It sounds like an impossible battle," Takumi said, breaking the silence.

"Almost. If he wins because of his skill, he can have closure and regain some semblance of mental control. If he loses, he will undoubtedly suffer a psychotic break. If he wins from some fluke chance, or if I let him win, he'll still have a breakdown. I have to battle with everything I have," Ryosuke said softly.

"Go home and rest," he finally said, walking back to his FD.

"What are you going to do?" Takumi asked.

"Practice."

Keisuke parked the Starlet and walked into the garage, a mixture of emotions heavy in his chest. On the one hand, he enjoyed the little Toyota and it was a thrill to drive it, but on the other, the lack of power and the soft, yielding suspension were becoming frustrating. At first the challenge had been enjoyable, but now it was annoying. Not enough power down the straights, no acceleration to speak of, not even enough to hang the rear end out during tight corners. Keisuke was busily thinking of installing a 4A-GE or something similar when Fumihiro's voice broke into his thoughts.

"So you've finally showed up to tune your engine, hmm?"

"Tune my engine?" Keisuke replied, blinking his eyes in surprise.

"The 13B-REW that came out of Ryosuke's Spirit R was placed in your FD at his request. We've got a base tune on it, but Ryosuke wanted you to assist during final tuning so it would fit your driving style. Your car is on the dyno."

In a dream, Keisuke walked over and saw his FD as if for the first time. Muscular fenders housed massive wheels and grippy tires, coilovers and brakes plainly visible. The engine was already running, thumping out a powerful exhaust note.

"Get inside, run it up to 2500 RPMs in first through third, then go to redline in fourth gear," Matsumoto ordered. Keisuke climbed into the car, strapped down on the dyno like an errant missile, and felt the steering wheel and seat that he had missed for so long.

Revving up the engine, he followed orders obediently, flooring the car in fourth and listening as the howl of the engine competed with the whine of the dyno until the shop echoed with the FD's wail. Letting his foot off the throttle, Keisuke felt his hands shaking.

"This is what I've been missing," he said. "Power!"

The tuning process took some time, but at the end of it Keisuke had a finely-honed machine in perfect running condition, a far cry from the ragged and beat vehicle he had limped onto the tow truck months ago. Backing the FD off of the dyno, he caught a glance of the Starlet, once more looking neglected. Torn between the power that throbbed through the FD and the simple pleasure of the KP60, he shook his head and parked the yellow rotary rocket, gently placed a cover over it, and returned to the Starlet.

"If I don't see him first, let my brother know I'm going to be out practicing," Keisuke said, getting into the little Starlet and driving off. After the massive strength of his FD, the Starlet was disappointingly slow, almost painfully so. It chugged horribly as it slowly managed to drag itself up Akagi, the 1000cc engine doing its best and failing miserably. Even though he hadn't driven the FD more than a few meters, it was enough to remind him of the incredible power he used to deal with on a daily basis.

At the peak of Mt. Akagi Keisuke got out of the Starlet and sat on the hood, hands in his pockets as he looked down at the winding road spread out before him. A car was approaching quickly, making the most of the medium s-curves as it climbed up the mountain. The black coupe stopped alongside the little red Starlet and idled quietly for a modified machine.

"You wanted to see me?" Kyoko asked. Keisuke nodded and stepped forward.

"I was very harsh with you before," he admitted slowly, blushing as he spoke. "I'd like to apologize. I've had... bad experiences in the past."

"I understand," she replied softly, her voice almost lost in the murmur of her single turbo rotary. "Why are you driving that little car?" she asked suddenly.

"Oh," Keisuke said, laughing self-consciously, "that's my daily driver. The FD is in the shop."

"In the shop? Is something wrong with it?" Kyoko asked, concern painfully evident on her face. She truly cared for the FD3S, and its absence was disturbing her.

"Come here," Keisuke said. "I'll drive you down the hill and show you why I like this little car." Carefully, Kyoko parked her FD, shut off the engine, locked it, and walked over, looking at the tiny Starlet with wonder in her eyes.

"Toyota Starlet?" she asked.

"Mmm hmm. Come on, get in. I'll take you down Akagi and back up, then you can drive us to a nice diner, my treat," he said with a warm smile. Grudgingly she got inside the car, sitting in the flat and lifeless passenger seat. Keisuke settled into the driver's seat, what remained of the cushion groaning as he sat.

"It has its charm," she said graciously, but he shook his head and turned the key, firing up the one liter motor with a hacking wheeze. Glancing out the clean windshield at the autumn scene before them, Keisuke revved the engine, dropped the clutch, and rolled forward with very little power-induced tire spin. The little car rattled downhill, picking up speed and noise as it went. The first true corner appeared and with practiced ease he hauled the manual steering around and floored the throttle. He was rewarded with the scream of tires and the field of vision up front slewing dramatically to the side as the little car drifted through the corner. Kyoko's lips formed an 'O' as she suddenly realized the reason for Keisuke's smile.

It was like that for every turn, although sometimes the emergency brake was needed to get the car to rotate, or a quick tap on the brake pedal with the left foot. At the bottom of the mountain, engine pinging from the heat, Keisuke looked over at Kyoko and smiled. The awkward conversation was pushed from his mind as well as hers. They climbed back upward in silence, a long silence that lasted for quite some time due to the underpowered Starlet. Finally returned to the top, they left the Starlet and went to Kyoko's FD. Driving downhill, she smiled privately to herself, then laughed.

"It seems so ridiculous to see you in that little car, driving with such an earnest expression on your face," she admitted between chuckles. Keisuke shook his head and caught, out of the corner of his eye, a blinding flash of white rocket down Akagi. There was a deep bellowing roar from an unrestricted exhaust, the scream of tires pushed to their limits, a flash of brake lights and then the shattered silence.

"What was that?" Kyoko asked, her heart racing from the surprise.

"I think," Keisuke said slowly, "that was my brother."

Takahashi Ryosuke looked with pride upon his creation.

"Truly a magnificent animal," he said, relishing the words. The Spirit R was just that, a wild and dangerous animal, alive with its creator's aura, bursting with power. Ryosuke flexed his arm, comparing the muscles to those in his healthy arm, noting the small differences, and rolled his sleeves back down. Fujiwara had made an excellent whipping boy, fleeing at top speed while being chased and fighting desperately pursuing.

"Now I need to find Yoshiro," Ryosuke said, climbing back into the white FD and pointing it back toward Mt. Akagi. Blasting up the hill at half-intensity, his eyes flickered along the road, analyzing it idly for better attack points. If Akagi was going to be the battleground, it would pay to familiarize himself with the course once more.

At the peak he turned the car around and prepared to descend when a gleam of yellow appeared next to him. A man his age, dressed in black and wearing glasses, exited from the NSX Type-R and stood next to the FD.

"I didn't think you would ever give up that FC," Yoshiro said without emotion.

"I thought you would be in the grave before you would give up your Civic," Ryosuke replied, getting out of the Spirit R and shutting the carbon fiber door carefully.

"Almost there. One foot in, one foot out," Yoshiro answered.

"Which foot is dead?"

"The one that uses the brakes."

Ryosuke broke off from the meaningless conversation and circled the Type-R. It was a potent display of engineering straight from the factory, liberally laced with aluminum, but this was something else. There was no lacing of carbon fiber, it was made of it. The brilliant yellow paint hid just how extensive the carbon fiber work was, but Ryosuke could tell. The car would no doubt be a few hundred kilograms lighter than stock. Fine. He would play dirty too.

"What kind of FD is that?" Yoshiro asked.

"A Spirit R," Ryosuke replied. "Special runoff edition. I've done some tuning to it, of course. Nothing major, just enough to give me a good experience for the FD's capabilities. Far greater than my old FC, you know."

"Are you here to talk or here to race?" Yoshiro asked suddenly.

"Talk. We'll have our race, but I wanted to see my opponent first. Still using that chaotic line?" he asked. Yoshiro blushed slightly but nodded.

"When my blood boils, it comes out of me without my asking it to. It can be hard to control that way, but I like it. And how are you, Ryosuke? Are you still the cold-blooded murdering thinker you were before?" Daichi asked, smiling at the memories.

"You make me sound sadistic," Ryosuke said in response.

"You are sadistic," came the quick reply.

"Dare I take a look at your engine?" Ryosuke asked.

"You don't need to, you heard everything you needed to know. If you're looking at mine, I'm looking at yours," Yoshiro responded. With a casual shrug Ryosuke tossed him the keys at the same time Yoshiro tossed his own. Ryosuke looked down on the NSX Type-R's engine and whistled just as Yoshiro did the same with the Spirit R.

"Twin turbo? Necessary?" Ryosuke asked.

"20B-REW?" came the reply from Yoshiro.

"You know I wasn't responsible for Akiko's death," Ryosuke said abruptly. "She was behind the wheel, driving like she always did. I let you be angry at me because it helped me hurt myself, but it's not healthy."

"I know," Yoshiro replied. "Akiko died doing what she loved, although she could have done it better in that particular corner. I hated you for it, Ryosuke. I hated you for being faster, for having more money, and for her loving you. She drove a Mazda because of you. If she were in a front wheel drive car like a Civic, she wouldn't have spun and she wouldn't have been killed. But no amount of argument will change the past," he said wearily, rubbing a hand over his bloodshot eyes.

"Then why race?" Ryosuke asked calmly.

"To prove a point."

"What point?"

"The point that Honda is superior to Mazda," Yoshiro said.

"I don't think it would prove anything. It's a driver's race, Yoshiro. There are too many variables here. Different engine placements, different construction types, different weights. These cars aren't similar at all. A better comparison would be an AP1." Ryosuke leaned against his Spirit R and folded his arms, looking at Yoshiro carefully for any signs of mental instability.

"Fine. If not cars, drivers. When I got back to Japan I was quite surprised to hear about you and your brother being featured in a magazine, running a racing team, setting records. Don't smile at me, Ryosuke. I'll end your unbeaten streak."

"It's already been ended," Ryosuke laughed, beginning to remember the great friendship he had shared with the passionate man in front of him.

"Damnit. Fine then. We raced when we were younger and you kept beating me. I want a chance to defeat you. You have your techniques, Ryosuke, and I have mine, and some I picked up while I was in America. I might surprise you."

"America?"

"I thought that would get your attention. That's right, Ryosuke. I've seen techniques never used in this country. Interesting techniques, too. I bet you would love a chance to analyze them, wouldn't you?" Yoshiro asked, leering happily at his old friend and nemesis.

"Uphill or downhill?" Ryosuke asked, fighting to keep calm.

"Both."

"How many rounds?"

"Until one of us passes out."

"Why should I race?"

"The Grim Reaper against Akagi's White Comet. Come now, Ryosuke, I think there might be more than a few people interested in it," Yoshiro said.

"Who would want to see us race?" Ryosuke asked.

"I would," Keisuke said, his Starlet parked a few meters away and a young woman standing with him.

"When did you get here?" Ryosuke asked quietly.

"About uphill or downhill," Keisuke replied.

"Stay away, Keisuke. Like I said to you before, this is between me and your brother. Don't protect him and don't fight his battles for him," Yoshiro rumbled, his voice growing suddenly deep and menacing.

"Is he nuts?" Keisuke asked in a hushed voice.

"Maybe," Ryosuke replied. "But mostly harmless."

"Yoshiro, when do we race?" he asked.

"Tonight?" Daichi asked hopefully, ignoring the sound of rain starting to fall gently on the pavement.

"No. I don't have enough gas for a real battle. Make it tomorrow night," Ryosuke said. The man seemed to ponder it for a few seconds, then nodded his agreement. The two drivers retired to their cars and left. Keisuke trailed after Ryosuke's FD, watching with greedy eyes the rapid and graceful movements the car was capable of, driving home even harder the fact that the Starlet was not a suitable racing machine.

At the bottom of Akagi, Ryosuke's white Spirit R disappeared in the traffic, heading home, while Keisuke remained behind with Kyoko for a few moments. She looked at him and gave a tired smile.

"Long night?" he asked with a touch of concern.

"Mm," she replied, looking pensive and avoiding her eyes. Keisuke, looking at her, knew something was wrong.

"What's going on?" he asked. Kyoko focused her warm and tender eyes on him and smiled a slow smile.

"Next time we go out, Keisuke, make sure you bring the FD," she said with something approaching a giggle before returning to her potent black coupe and leaving him standing in the rain, a hand resting on the Starlet's mostly-painted roof. He sighed, looked at the little Toyota, and shook his head.

"I really don't understand women."

"Hey Bro," Keisuke asked as he walked back into the house, "what's this American driving style that Yoshiro mentioned? Don't they just multitask a million things at once behind the wheel? I don't see how eating a double bacon cheeseburger would help him win a race," he said with a self-satisfied smirk. Seeing his brother massaging his aching foot made him lose the smile.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Ryosuke said, leaning back with a sigh. "And don't underestimate Americans," he added.

"Why not? I've never heard anything good about them. A license for them costs two thousand two hundred yen, while for us it takes two hundred eighty two thousand, five hundred and eighty five yen. I think we're more attached to our licenses and learn a lot more."

"And for the most part we do," Ryosuke said. "However, there are always exceptions to the rule. Since many start driving at a young age, they have more seat time. Because the country is so large, they travel farther distances than we do, and spend more time in their cars. While the normal style of racing would be an acceleration run, many enjoy true driving challenges. The cars that they use are normally more powerful, but heavier as well. It would do you well to experience an American car at some point, Keisuke. You might find the enjoyment of your Starlet with performance nearing your FD. But I digress. Yoshiro's driving technique is probably endurance-based, which is good for him but bad for me. My injuries are still bothering me and I'm not as strong as I used to be before the crash. I'll have to do my best to defeat him quickly, and he will be doing his best to draw it out."

"You seem to get along well with him," Keisuke said, surprised at the twinge of jealousy he had felt from seeing the two conversing.

"We should, considering the times we spent together. It's refreshing to find someone who drives against me for the fun of it, rather than someone in awe of my legacy. If I race someone, Keisuke, it isn't for fun anymore. It's for the legacy. The legend of Takahashi Ryosuke, undefeatable rotary driver. I want to have fun, just like anyone else, and I think I'll be able to enjoy myself against Yoshiro."

"So what will your tactic be?"

"Strike as quickly as possible. The only problem is that if I lead, he can pressure me, while if I chase, he'll use the chaotic line and I may very well lose. I think I'll have to flip a coin to decide," Ryosuke said, his eyes glowing with energy at the thought of his upcoming battle.

"What did Ryosuke-san say to you?" Takumi asked point blank, watching as his father froze in his movements before answering.

"A number of things," was the mumbled reply.

"Why did you let me drive the hachi-roku against him, but not by myself?" he pressed.

"Because I was teaching you something," came the reply. Bunta shut the Impreza's trunk and lit a cigarette, the end glowing a brilliant red before he spoke again, the smoke trickling out of his nose and mouth as he talked.

"When you were young you drove the hachi-roku every day and became intimately familiar with it, its abilities, and its characteristics. This was reflected in your mastery over the vehicle. You controlled it like it was part of your body. With the Impreza, I had you drive both at first to show you the abilities of a newer car. I tuned it to my liking, and you drove faster. Looking at the tires and the gas you used, I'm sure you enjoyed having over three hundred horsepower. But you still drove the Impreza like the hachi-roku, and you weren't as fast as you could have been. By forcing you to drive only the Impreza, I built up your familiarity with the vehicle. You must have noticed how easier it was to drive," Bunta said, tapping the ash from his cigarette and walking inside.

Takumi stood in the dark, surprised and confused. The words were completely true. The Impreza was obeying his commands perfectly, pushing to the very limit and balancing on the ragged edge without fear of falling off. His downhill times had shortened as a result of being concentrated on one car. Shaking his head at his father's stubbornness, Takumi got into the Impreza and began his delivery.

"Did you hear?" Itsuki screamed happily, grabbing Takumi by the collar.

"What?"

"The White Comet of Akagi is going to race the Grim Reaper!" he chuckled, dancing happily and pumping his arms in the air out of sheer joy.

"Who are they?" Takumi asked, filling up the Impreza and washing down the windows.

"You know who the White Comet is," Itsuki said angrily. "That's Takahashi Ryosuke. The Grim Reaper is his ancient rival! They're having an ultimate battle tonight on Mt. Akagi. Are you going?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I was planning on staying in tonight," Takumi said slowly.

"Please! Please go, and we can take your hachi-roku!"

"Sorry Itsuki, but my dad won't let me drive it anymore. I'm only allowed to drive the Impreza." Crestfallen, Itsuki sighed and began to walk away.

"Will you go if I drive?" he asked hopefully.

"Fine," Takumi said with a deep sigh.

"You don't look so enthusiastic," Iketani said, walking over after Itsuki had left to go polish his hachi-go. Takumi looked at him with hunted eyes and shook his head.

"I don't feel enthusiastic, either. I've spent the past few weeks being chased up and down Mt. Akagi by Takahashi Ryosuke in his new Spirit R. I think I'm sick of driving for a while."

"Spirit R?" Iketani asked in confusion.

"It's his new car. It's an FD, like Keisuke's, only it's more rare. He's done a lot of work to it. When I opened the hood, I noticed that the intake manifold had six runners instead of four."

"A 20B-REW?!"

"Yes."

"And you were able to stay close to him?" Iketani asked intently.

"Somewhat. Mostly in the tight sections when the horsepower difference wasn't so great. But anywhere there was a bit of a straight, he forged ahead and I lost all the lead I had built up. What hurt me most, Iketani, was that I began to think that if I were in the Impreza, I could keep up," Takumi admitted, blushing deeply in shame.

"Takumi, you have done incredible things with your hachi-roku, but maybe it is time to think about a new car. Or at least another car that you could use against higher-powered opponents. Have you ever thought about an arrangement like that?" Iketani asked.

"I have. The AP1 I borrowed for a race was impressive, but it wasn't perfect. There are a lot of cars out there, Iketani. I don't know how long it would take to find the right one. Is it hard to buy a car?" Takumi asked.

"It can be, but I know a few people that would be helpful to you. What you'll want to do," Iketani said, his mind warming to the task, "is you'll want to borrow it for a test drive and try taking it up and down Mt. Akina. Do you have a lot of money?"

"Not a whole lot," Takumi said.

"You could always get a loan, and make payments. That way you could afford a nice car by spreading the costs out over time, instead of having to pay for it all at once. How did your father buy his Impreza?"

"I don't know. He borrowed it to test it out, then bought it. He doesn't tell me much about it, other than I need to drive it more."

"Well Takumi, I think you need to talk to your father about it. If you're interested in purchasing a car with a loan, you'll need his assistance anyway."

Ryosuke sat in the FD, letting it idle smoothly as he waited. Despite the late hour, a small crowd had shown up, mostly consisting of the Grim Reaper's previous kills. Most of the Night Kids were there, including Nakazato and Sayuki in their formidable R34. A string of potent automobiles were sitting in the parking lots, and the galleries were slowly filling up. They would be disappointed. Ryosuke shook his head and leaned back in the bucket.

"This is just for fun, not a serious race," he said through his open window to Fumihiro. The older man shrugged his shoulders.

"Even if you say so," he said with a laugh. The chatter of the galleries increased fivefold and Ryosuke turned his head in time to catch the low, eye-blindingly yellow Honda NSX Type-R make its final approach, pulling up alongside the white Spirit R.

"Grim Reaper."

"White Comet."

The two engines, one a V6 and the other a rotary, screamed up instantly, transmitting their power to the wheels. The two cars lunged forward without warning, blowing past a shocked Fumihiro and rocketing down the mountain with incredible violence. Upshifting into second gear the Spirit R almost lost control, its massive horsepower sending the rear wheels into massive balls of smoke. The NSX Type-R lagged behind until its massive turbochargers spooled up, hitting with brutal strength. The two drove side by side through the first corner, fighting for supremacy. The mid-engine monster had turned in faster, but the FD with its perfectly-tuned suspension fell behind and cut inside, using its incredible thrust to urge forwards and take the inside on the next corner.

Ryosuke watched the NSX fall into his rearview mirror for a second, then, as its turbochargers spooled up, saw it shoot forward until its headlights disappeared. The next corner appeared, a mild left-hander, and the Type-R took advantage of its long body to block the Spirit R from overtaking, drifting through the corner at an impossibly deep angle and blocking every single possible line of attack. Ryosuke focused his eyes, noticing the sparks coming off the wheels of the NSX.

"You've stretched your tires over wider wheels in an effort to stiffen your sidewalls and reduce tire flex. Unfortunately you aren't running enough tire pressure, so the rims project past the rubber. When you push the car too hard, the rim hits the pavement and changes the coefficient of friction. Why did you do this?" Ryosuke asked, turning the wheel quickly as the Spirit R went from the left-hander to a right-hander. With enough pressure he could force Yoshiro into screwing up. That had always happened when they were younger, enough pressure and he would crack. How would it happen now?

The FD's headlights disappeared from Yoshiro's rearview, and he cursed.

"Sadistic," was the only word he spat out, lifting off the throttle long enough to use the weight shift to change the car's heading. Because of the mid-engine placement and the extensive suspension tuning, the car was lethal and perfectly at home with his no-brake style of drift. No other car had the ability to handle his style, and no other driver had the ability to drive his car. Ryosuke's pressure would force him to do something rash.

"Ease off, Ryosuke," he muttered, pushing the throttle deeper on a short straight. The turbochargers took a moment to spool, sounding like twin jet engines as they screamed with incredible fury, the engine's massive power thrusting the car forward violently into the night.

The NSX drifted through the turn beautifully, its angle steady throughout, while the Spirit R dove in deeper and faster, Ryosuke using a mixture of drift and grip to attempt an overtake. No situations presented themselves for the rest of the course, and although he fought brilliantly, it ended in a draw. The uphill race was the same, although the Spirit R led for most of the way with its horsepower advantage. As the two cars screamed toward the goal line at the peak, Fumihiro and Keisuke ran for cover. Red brake lights shone bright as the two cars came to a grinding halt, swinging around in perfect unison to be pointed back down hill. Ryosuke got out of the Spirit R to massage his ankle and ice his arm, while Yoshiro rummaged around in his boot for a moment, pulling out a shining silver canister.

"This is why I haven't beaten you yet," he said with a strange glint in his eye as he uncapped the cylinder. It was spray paint. Shaking up the can, he bent over the hood of his car and, with as much precision as he could master, he painted a massive ominous skull, the car's yellow paint giving it hellish eyes that burned with unquenching hatred. The Grim Reaper was staring at Ryosuke, an indescribable look in his eyes as he stood there, can in one hand while his keys hung in the other.

"You shouldn't race right now," Ryosuke said carefully. "Yoshiro-"

"I AM NOT YOSHIRO! I am the Grim Reaper, and I am here to collect the soul of the White Comet of Akagi!" he roared, pointing a shaking arm at Ryosuke.

"Don't do this! You're having a psychotic break! Get help!" Ryosuke shouted, lunging forward and wrestling the man to the ground. With his weakened arm Yoshiro managed to overpower him quickly. Keisuke and Fumihiro rushed forward, pulling the two men apart.

"You killed her! You killed her with your fucking rear wheel drive Mazda!" Yoshiro bellowed, straining against Fumihiro's iron grasp.

"She killed herself! If you had helped her, if you had driven with her you could have helped!" Ryosuke screamed back, almost breaking Keisuke's hands as he struggled.

"You should have been with her!"

"I was studying!"

"She was your girlfriend!"

"She was your sister!"

"STOP IT!" Fujiwara shouted, stepping between the two. "I don't know what's going on, but stop it!" Swinging on Ryosuke, Takumi pointed his finger at his mentor's face.

"I look up to you for your calm and for your logic. You can be in the most desperate situation and your face will never show it. Now you're standing here screaming at this man who just spray-painted a skull on his car. Where is my mentor?"

"Your mentor isn't here right now, Fujiwara," Ryosuke growled. "You know NOTHING of what has happened here. I appreciate your efforts, but you are in over your head. Go sit down with Keisuke. This is between me and Yoshiro." Ryosuke twisted out of Keisuke's grip and stalked over to Yoshiro.

"You and me, one run. Downhill. First over wins. After this race, whenever we speak of Akiko it will be in memory, not blame. Agreed?" Ryosuke said, holding out his hand. Yoshiro held out his own, his forearm muscles flexing as he did his best to crush Takahashi's hand. The two stood there, snarling, until they suddenly parted and returned to their cars. Ryosuke slammed the FD's door shut, belted up his harness and fired up the 20B-REW with a roar, flooring the throttle in neutral over and over again until the engine reflected the screaming tortured pain that had been locked inside Ryosuke for years. The NSX Type-R revved over and over again, blowoff valves shrieking into the night with the Death's Head prominent on the hood. Fumihiro stood between the two, his body visibly shaking as he held up two arms that vibrated with fear.

"San! Ni! Ichi! Go!" he shouted over the bellowing engines, the screaming tires, the skin-roasting exhaust as the two cars hurtled past, on their way to the final battle that would decide who truly was superior. Ryosuke knew as the Spirit R gobbled up the straight that if he won, Yoshiro would finally admit that he wasn't responsible for Akiko's demise. If Yoshiro won, he would view it as fate siding with him. Whether it was desperation or fear or anger or skill, Ryosuke pushed the throttle all the way to the floor, opening up all five hundred horsepower of the 20B-REW, almost twice the limit that could be safely used on the downhill. With narrowed eyes focusing on the blur of scenery in front of him, Ryosuke had only one thought pounding in his mind.

"I will win."

"What's wrong with Ryosuke?" Takumi asked. Keisuke walked over and looked at Fumihiro as well, waiting on the answer.

"Why don't you know?" Takumi asked him.

"I was in my gang. I missed out on a lot. Fumihiro, why is Ryosuke so wound up about this Akiko girl? What happened?" Fumihiro looked at the two of them, at the crowd, and then motioned them over to the Project D van. Seated inside, he sighed and began to speak.

"Daichi Akiko was a rare girl. She was in the galleries when Ryosuke first started racing, and since she was Yoshiro's sister, the three of them got along together pretty well. They'd race, but it was always more like playing. Yoshiro drove a Civic in those days, and was a diehard Honda fan. Ryosuke loved the rotary just as much. Akiko would ride with Yoshiro, but she spent more and more time with Ryosuke, and for once, he didn't mind. He didn't like the fangirls because when he wanted to talk cars, they didn't know enough to respond. But she was different. She learned, and discussed things with him. For a while when he raced, she would be his passenger."

"That doesn't sound like my brother at all," Keisuke said, crossing his arms and frowning.

"He used to be a lot happier, a lot more outgoing. But the accident changed him," Fumihiro said.

"What accident?" Takumi asked.

"After a while of being Ryosuke's passenger, Akiko wanted her own car. She got her license, and Yoshiro and Ryosuke pooled their money together to buy her a car of her choice. When she chose a Mazda, it strained her relationship with her brother and strengthened it with Ryosuke. Usually when she practiced drifting she would do it with Yoshiro or Ryosuke, but she loved to practice in the rain. It saved her money on tires, and it helped her learn car control faster. She was almost as fast as Yoshiro, who was almost as fast as Ryosuke. And then there was that one night."

"When she had her accident?" Takumi asked.

"Yes. Yoshiro was out on a date and Ryosuke was studying for a test. She was bored and wanted to practice, but Ryosuke was a good student and he had asked her to put it off until the next day. She didn't listen to him and went to practice in the rain on Mt. Akagi. Sometime around 2AM she had lost control of the car, oversteered. It crashed through the guardrail and fell into the valley below. The RX-7 she had crumpled up on impact, it was old and weak. When they found her body she was long dead, and it wasn't a painful death. No one drove those roads like they do now, so it wasn't until Ryosuke and Yoshiro went out looking that they found her." Fumihiro opened a bottle of water to refresh his dry throat.

"After that the two fell out. Yoshiro left the country, Ryosuke was inconsolable. He became the White Comet of Akagi, racing on his own, building an undefeated legacy. I don't know a lot about those days because I didn't get involved until his legend was already established, but when he used to talk about it I got the feeling that he pushed himself so hard because of her. He was punishing himself. Keisuke, you know that he never dated after that. He withdrew inside himself, building up a shell around himself. I guess this has been fermenting and festering under the surface for years, and Yoshiro coming back has brought it back to the surface. I wouldn't go near him."

"Is that why he started the Redsuns?"

"Sort of," Fumihiro replied.

"I hope he wins," Keisuke said, looking down Akagi's winding roads, trying to think where the two would be battling.

The NSX Type-R was beginning to change, its line losing its purity. Ryosuke narrowed his eyes, watching the rear end of the car moving in a strange manner. It was the first warning that the chaotic line was about to appear.

"If I back off the pressure, I can hold him from cracking and using the chaotic line. If I don't ppressure him, I may not be able to pass him at the end. Can I handle him?" Ryosuke asked, his mind making the snap decision, his foot depressing the accelerator. The 20B-REW wound up, its enormous power thrusting the Spirit R forward. Ryosuke slammed the inside wheels against the rounded curb, lifting the car up on two wheels long enough to tighten the line and allow him to cut inside the NSX and make a frantic rush forward.

Yoshiro watched him pass with hatred in his eyes and desperation rising inside him.

"How can I stop him?" The NSX lagged behind then shot forward as the turbochargers spooled up, pushing the car forward and shortening the distance between the two. Ryosuke glanced in his rearview mirror and cursed, his gap destroyed. The NSX was beginning its hypnotic sway again, and it would be mere minutes before he would be passed. Yoshiro smiled with an evil glint in his eye and toggled the rocker switch on his center console, arming the nitrous oxide system of his car.

"Alright Ryosuke, have a taste of American tuning," he said, depressing the throttle all the way and activating the nitrous oxide system.

From the large tank mounted in the front of the vehicle, nitrous oxide flowed through stainless steel lines to the intake manifold, changing from liquid to gas and rapidly cooling down the intake charge, filling the cylinders with dense, fuel-laden air. The massive turbochargers of the NSX spun up rapidly, the nitrous oxide increasing the engine's power by another hundred horsepower and rocketing the mid-engine supercar past the Spirit R. Ryosuke felt his eyes widen in shock as the yellow monster streaked past.

"So that's your American technique," he said bitterly. It was all there, the massive power, the hypnotic sway of the NSX's rear end, the emerging chaotic line. Ryosuke, in desperation, pushed the throttle down all the way and shifted up, fighting with tooth and claw to stay close to the unstoppable NSX.

"If I defeat you, I'll be vindicated. If you win, I'll have to deal with your attitude forever after. I know I can beat you, Yoshiro, but should I?" Ryosuke asked himself, turning it over in his mind. His legend and his ethics began to fight, and it showed on the sweat on his brow and the violence of his shifting.

The cold and bitter wind blew through the trees, sending a swirling cloud of dead leaves in motion, twirling and fluttering through the dark sky. Keisuke looked at the crunchy dead brown pile at his feet and shook his head.

"I don't like this," he said. "This cold air is good for the turbo engines, but with all this junk lying around on the road, it's setting them up for a fall."

"Do you think he'll win?" Takumi asked. Fumihiro shrugged his shoulders.

"Keisuke has a good point. Unless there's something we don't know about, he should win. I just wonder at the repercussions if he does."

"What do you mean, repercussions?" Takumi asked.

"Yoshiro isn't stable. You obviously saw that. His mind has been damaged ever since the accident, and Ryosuke knows that. This race is more than just a battle for him. It's a chance to prove he was right, and that Ryosuke was wrong. The only way he can do that is if he beats Ryosuke on the downhill. The issue here is that if he's defeated, he may lose his grip on reality and become dangerous to himself and others. Ryosuke has to balance the desire to win against the health of what used to be his friend. Yoshiro would be furious though, if he thought Ryosuke lost on purpose. So it's a difficult line to walk for him."

"This is corner twenty! The NSX has taken the lead!" the radio screamed. Keisuke looked at it in his hand, shocked.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

"I don't know," came the response. "The turbo lag is gone, and it out-accelerates Ryosuke's car on the straights. I'm not sure how it's possible, but he's putting a greater and greater distance on the Spirit R."

"I thought as much," Fumihiro said darkly.

"What do you mean? Do you know what he's doing?" Keisuke asked, Fujiwara looking on.

"Yoshiro mentioned spending time in America, and some technique he had picked up there. I assumed that it was a driving style, but it's tuning. He's using nitrous oxide."

"What's nitrous oxide?" Takumi asked.

"It's a gas that's compressed into a liquid, you store it in a big tank in your car. When the car is at wide open throttle, the liquid goes through a number of lines and into the intake manifold, where it turns into a gas. When it changes from liquid to gas, it cools down the air in the intake manifold tremendously, and introduces more oxygen, which lets the computer inject more fuel. It's like increasing the size of your engine. It's violent and hard to control, but it's possible to add another hundred horsepower with the proper tuning."

"Why use something like that?" Keisuke asked.

"You've seen it to some extent. Yoshiro's turbochargers are very large, which gives him the potential to make enormous horsepower, but they're difficult to spool up. Using nitrous oxide, he's increasing the flow of exhaust coming from his engine, tricking the turbochargers into thinking they're on a much bigger engine. They spool faster as a result, and make power sooner. He could be making fifty or a hundred horsepower from the nitrous oxide, and with the turbochargers spooled up properly, who knows how much more on top of that. Depending on tuning, he could have increased his power by forty percent." Fumihiro shook his head gravely.

"What's the danger?" Takumi asked, knowing full well there was a potent catch to such incredible power.

"The catch is that it's close to uncontrollable. With a proper setup, it will engage only at full throttle once the system is armed, so he knows when it's going to kick in. That doesn't soften the blow. Nitrous oxide is very sudden, painfully so, and it stresses the engine greatly. He could run the risk of blowing the engine or losing control of the car if he goes full throttle in a corner. Because of the nature of it, he might run out of nitrous oxide before they reach the base, and he would be stuck with the laggy turbos again with no hope of spooling them up all the way. It's a suicidal tactic."

Ryosuke watched with dismay as the chaotic line emerged. It wasn't that it was an incredibly fast line. It wasn't. It was completely random, apexing at bizarre angles, with no predictability of motion. It was impossible to pass once it had begun. The lower tire pressures were a major contributor, giving the rear tires more flex and allowing the back of the NSX to waggle back and forth without losing traction, but because of the low pressures, the edges of the rims projected outward slightly beyond the safety of the rubber. Ryosuke had noticed it early on in the race, but it was getting more noticeable now.

"What are you doing, Yoshiro?" he asked, pushing harder and harder to try and make his pass. With the chaotic line in effect, there was no time to plan an overtake. The only possible way to succeed was to try again and again and again.

"Your tire pressures are too low!" Ryosuke shouted as the NSX drifted through a tight left hander. The edge of the outside wheel was projecting past the rubber, and with the nitrous oxide activated the NSX was under tremendous cornering forces. The wheel made contact with the pavement, sending up a shower of sparks, sparks that ignited the unburned fuel belching out of the drainpipe exhaust pipes.

Ryosuke flinched, hitting the brakes and swerving to avoid the trail of flame ripping behind the NSX like a fiery cape.

"The NSX is on fire!" the radios screamed.

"On fire?" Keisuke roared. "How is that possible?"

"I'm sorry Keisuke, it's not really on fire. The wheels made contact with the pavement and threw up a bunch of sparks. It caught the exhaust fumes on fire for a second. The NSX is running very rich with no converters," came the explanation.

"How's my brother?"

"He hit the brakes when the flames shot out, but he's recovered his lost ground. He's trying to pass, but the Grim Reaper's movements are bizarre. There's no reason to them, so a passing point can't be predicted." Keisuke clicked off the radio and crossed his arms over his chest, thinking glumly to himself.

"An awesome race and I don't get to see it."

Yoshiro glanced in the rearview mirror and chuckled, arming another rocker switch on the console, glancing at the row of guages on his dash.

"I'm running low on nitrous oxide. Too much in the corners. I might not have enough left for the final straight if I don't ease off now. I can't let him pass. If he passes, I won't be able to overtake him. I need to use my second trick, sadly," he said with the tinest hint of remorse. Downshifting to make the next corner, his second system took effect. The engine control unit forced extra fuel into the system, making it run overly rich. The unburned fumes traveled through the hot exhaust until a spark plug built into the exhaust tips ignited it, belching out dramatic but harmless flames. Combined with the sparks thrown from the rims as he rounded the hairpin corners, it was a fearsome appearance.

Ryosuke scowled, gripping the wheel tighter as he forced his agile mind to think up a solution. The flames and sparks were show, but did nothing to help Yoshiro. In fact the wheels dragging on the ground were hurting his time and slowing him down. If he continued to let the rims grind, it was possible the bead of the tire would be broken and he would lose all pressure in the tire.

"I don't think I'm imagining it. He's grinding more often. Is he already losing tire pressure?" Yoshiro's randomness was beginning to fade as well, perhaps forced by the increased difficulty of managing the NSX.

"I'll overtake you again," Ryosuke said. He wedged the nose of the Spirit R between the NSX's rear bumper and the guardrail, wincing as the flames scorched his front bumper, but pushing ahead desperately, trying his best to succeed.

"Where can I overtake?" he asked. There was no room, with the NSX hugging close enough to the guardrail to keep him from passing. The body of the FD was too wide to pass through, even if he sacrificed his mirrors. They flew down Mt. Akagi, the NSX in the lead, Ryosuke's Spirit R slightly to the left, his front bumper even with the rear wheels of Yoshiro's monster.

"You'll never pass, Ryosuke. The road isn't wide enough for you!" Yoshiro cackled. Suddenly the Spirit R surged past, losing its mirrors and grinding a long crease in the NSX's body.

"HOW?!" Yoshiro roared.

As he forced the FD ahead, relying on the powerful 20B-REW to pull him ahead, Ryosuke felt a twinge of emotions.

"Thank you, Akiko. Your accident pushed the guardrail out in that section just enough for me to pass," he said, his mind lingering on her laughing face for a moment before it clouded over with the image of her broken and shattered body being dragged from the twisted remains of her FB. Yoshiro howled in pain, throttle wide open and flames billowing from the NSX as he thundered down the final straight, a monstrous six hundred horsepower churning the rear wheels. Ryosuke's four hundred horse rotary had just enough of a lead to propel him over the finish line first, half a meter ahead of the NSX.

Keisuke, Fujiwara and Fumihiro ran toward the two cars, arms raised and victory cries on their lips as they swarmed around the damaged FD. Ryosuke opened his door, cradled the mirror hanging from a single cable in his hands, and gently pulled it free before turning to the others.

"Did I win?" he asked softly, holding the mirror in one hand and quickly downing a bottle of water with the other. Keisuke nodded, holding out the stopwatch a member of Project D had handed him. Ryosuke glanced at it carelessly, finished his bottle of water, and placed the mirror on his driver seat before walking over to the scorched yellow NSX.

"Yoshiro, are you alright?" Ryosuke asked quietly, tapping on the window. The window slowly ground down until he could look inside and see a pale and shaken face inside, covered in sweat, lit by the dim glow of the overhead lamp.

"Maybe. How's the car?" he asked in a faraway voice.

"Wheels are trashed, you burned some of your rear bumper cover. I hope you didn't run your engine too lean with that nitrous oxide. It's a good way to ruin your piston rings, Yoshiro. When did you become so careless?" Ryosuke asked, gently scolding his friend.

"After Akiko died. No little sister to watch out for, parents in their own world, me with money and nothing to do. I work during the day, do destruction-testing for Honda, but nothing to occupy my nights. I really don't value my life anymore, Ryosuke. Makes it easier to drive like an idiot."

"I noticed," Ryosuke replied, resting his hands on the door, opening it up and helping a stiff and sore Yoshiro out of the car.

"Do me a favor," Ryosuke said, holding the man by his shoulders.

"What?"

"Get help. I know a number of people that can provide assistance for you. Akiko would want it that way, and I want it that way. You've been a good friend in the past, you can be a good friend in the future, but you need to be alive to do so."

Keisuke made a face, turning away and walking back to his Starlet.

"Too much emotional sugar-laden crap," he said to Takumi in passing. Fujiwara shrugged his shoulders and turned away as well, leaving the two drivers to their slow reunion.

"How'd you pass me?" Yoshiro asked. "I made sure there wasn't enough room for you to get by, but you still squeezed past."

"When they repaired the guardrail where Akiko went through, they didn't straighten the supports again. For a short section, there was more space because the rail leaned out. I sacrificed my mirrors and made it through. When did you install those flamethrowers?"

"Where do you think?" Yoshiro chuckled.

"I'm tempted. Seems like a lot of interesting things over there," Ryosuke said. "Different from here. Not better or worse, but different. Do you think it's worth visiting?"

"Not really," Yoshiro said as he traced his fingers over the melted plastic of his rear bumper. "If you want to see American-style tuning, just go run the Wangan line. It's all about big power and big displacement engines. You remember geography, America is a big flat wide open road. They love cornering, and European cars, and a lot of Japanese cars too, but the true American tune is an FR coupe with an engine of at least 5700cc displacement and over three hundred horsepower."

"Sounds brutal," Ryosuke said, standing there awkwardly for a few moments.

"I'm glad you're back," he said, shaking Yoshiro's hand.

"Thanks for caring about me. I know you loved my sister, and it was stupid of me to blame you for it. I know you took care of her when you could, but you weren't her keeper. You weren't supposed to keep her under lock and key. You did as good as you could. Thanks for the race, Ryosuke," he said, getting back in the NSX and driving off. Ryosuke looked at his FD, sighed as he ran his hand over the broken stump of the passenger mirror, and got inside.

"Fumihiro, I'm going home. Don't get into too much trouble," he said with an attempt at a smile. As the FD rolled forward, he stopped next to Takumi, who was walking back to his car.

"Fujiwara," Ryosuke said slowly, "I'm sorry for the outburst. Those things have been lingering for quite some time. No excuse to take it out on you though."

"I forgive you, but I want to know one thing," Takumi said, resting his hand on the roof of the Impreza.

"What's that?"

"What did you talk about with my father?" Takumi asked. The Spirit R's engine roared suddenly, and Ryosuke mouthed a few words before rocketing off.