Initial D Tora! Tora! Tora! Volume 2.

Disclaimer; I do not own Initial D, or anything related to it. I do this for the fun and sheer enjoyment of writing about cars and racing.

Attention! Warning! Achtung! This is the second part in an ongoing series, and continuous plot line. If you haven't read Volume 1, please do before reading this, as it might be difficult to fully understand what it going on.

Thank you; Margrave-of-the-stars.

Chapter 1 Northbound

Project D was well ahead of her, and she knew it, but that was alright, it wasn't a race, Molly recalled as she blasted down the left lane of the Maine Turnpike, headed for Auburn Maine. She had been sent by Mike to keep a sort of tabs on the foreign team as they continued touring the United States, and with the 302 tucked underneath the hood of her beloved car, cruising at a comfortable speed of 95 miles an hour, she really couldn't complain. Apart from being told she had to try and learn how to drift, for Mike's benefit or her own she didn't know, and not to provide their opponents with information, she basically had a free rein, and with the perfect summers days she had experienced so far, she was sure she would find plenty of time to roam the streets in her convertible. Not to mention staying with Mike's uncle, who had handed the shop over to Mike a year or so earlier, would mean she had great access to everything she needed to tune her car, and to all the inside gossip of the racing scene in these parts.

Mike's uncle lived in Auburn Maine, he had moved there after handing the shop over to Mike a year or so earlier. It didn't take to long to get to Maine at 95 miles per hour, she would be there soon.

•••

Ryosuke pulled out of the parking lot onto Route 4 to do some exploring, the rotary engine in front of him growling quietly. Being late on a Sunday afternoon most businesses were shut down, but the roads were still relatively busy. He headed north in the white FC, and after only a few miles, he could tell he was already going to like the area. Unlike Massachusetts the main roads were two lanes, and had higher speed limits, as they weren't as congested. They didn't seem to be built up as much either in some places, meaning that the team wouldn't have to worry about getting sideswiped by someone coming out of a side street as much. But as he approached the twin cities of Auburn and Lewiston (or what they called cities at least), along the Androscoggin River, the wishful thinking on his part quickly faded.
Analyzing every part of the road along the way Ryosuke continued his way along Route 4 as it went through the city and then back out the other side, past some parts, and tire stores, gas stations, a small shopping mall, and almost every type of chain restaurant that they had encountered in Massachusetts, then past a row of car dealers before almost everything just disappeared as the road led him along past

•••

"Well it doesn't sound like everything went the way Mike had wanted." Stevie said, leaning back in his chair as he took a long drink from a can of Coke.
"Yeah," Molly responded, hitting the channel button on the TV remote. "If he hadn't given them the use of the bay we probably would have swept them." She said still agitated that they had lost.
"But would it have really been a sweep had they tuning their cars in a hotel parking lot?" Stevie asked.
"No I guess not." Molly said, fake pouting a little bit, "But I hate losing."
"But you didn't."

"The team did, and that's just as good." Molly protested.
"Yeah, I know." Stevie responded. "So why did Mike send you up here?"

"He wants me to watch Project D, and to try and see if can't learn how to drift, but I don't know. . ." Molly shrugged, "I'm not supposed to help whoever they're racing against. So I'm not really sure of what I'm supposed to do."

"Well, you don't have to stay completely uninvolved. You could help them, or we could help them. We could invite them to stay here, and if they don't want to do that, we can offer them the use of the garage. We could also help them with the cars they run up against." Stevie offered.

"Then where would you put the Pantera?"
"I'll just park it outside while their working, and back inside at night." Stevie said.
"I guess that makes sense." Molly shrugged. She thought about how she was going to talk to them. She never really talked much, at least with people she didn't really know well. She looked at the small TV sitting next to the microwave on the stand. She had almost entirely stopped paying attention as she thought about how to go about getting in contact with Project D. She'd never been able to randomly walk up to someone and start talking to them, and either of the Takahashi brothers would be near impossible for her, with their stoic attitudes. But Mike was counting on her.
"Hey, go back a couple of channels." Stevie said, snapping Molly out of her trance, "I saw something with cars a couple of channels back."
Molly changed down a couple of channels to find some NASCAR coverage on an upcoming race. Stevie, as well as owning a 1972 Pantera was also a huge fan of American Muscle cars, they were all over the place when he was growing up, in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Growing up in NASCARS heyday had helped fuel his passion for American motoring. Even his daily driver was no normal car, a 1983 Buick Electra Station Wagon, but Stevie had swapped in an Oldsmobile 350 V8, with a slightly warmed up cam, and a four barrel carburetor. It surprised its fair share of Fast and The Furious wannabes.
"You been to a cruise night lately?" Molly asked, forgetting Project D for the time being.
"Not lately." He admitted. Molly remembered that some of her and Mike's earliest dates had been to Riley's with Stevie on a Saturday night. She had thought that Mike knew a lot about cars, but Stevie knew far and away more. It was something in their genes, it had to be.
"Good then, we should go to Roy's on Friday." Molly smiled, it would give her a chance to show off her Tiger to a whole new audience, even though half the people there wouldn't know what they were looking at until they saw the 302 lurking beneath the fiberglass hood.
Later that night Molly sat out on the front porch staring at the sky above her, a dark blue blanket, pinpricked randomly with stars, the crescent moon suspended against the inky backdrop. As Molly contemplated how much quieter it was, and how the stars seemed much brighter, all of a sudden, somewhere off in the distance she could hear the sound of at least one high performance motor tearing away at the night, no, more likely three of four. It was almost impossible to tell exactly where it was coming from, but she knew it was close by, and it sure as hell wasn't Project D.
Stevie walked out on the porch sipping a can of Coke. "They're early tonight." He said. "There's a local team that races around here. I don't know how they do it in Japan, but it seems like that almost every town has at least one, but once you get a little further north, there aren't enough kids around to really make teams."
"From what I understand they do it about the same in Japan." Molly said, not knowing exactly what to say. "I think it also depends on whether there's a mountain nearby. But Project D. . ." Molly paused. "They might as well be all stars, I mean that's essentially what they are."
"Sounds good." Stevie offered. "That should make for a good race with the Bow Tie Boys."

•••

Four sets of headlights came along the road, ducking into the last parking area before Lake Shore Drive intersected Route 4. The road was exactly what it claimed to be, a strip of two lane black top that followed the shore of Lake Auburn for the most part.

Four V8s rumbled in the night, each one of them with its own almost distinct sound, but to the unfamiliar they were just big V8s. The four cars rolled into parking spots, all in a row, all Chevrolet products, and each car wore a sticker on the rear quarter and trunk lid that was the blue Chevrolet bow tie, inside which was printed Bow Tie Boys.
After shutting down their cars the drivers stepped out and headed for one of the picnic tables down by the lake. It wasn't more than twenty feet from the small parking lot. The three guys led the way, their sister following close behind. It was clear to anybody who saw them that they were family.
Bill was the oldest, and the defacto team leader, the rest of his siblings looked up to him; whether it was figuring out how to get out of trouble as kids, or how to attack the turns on Lake Shore Drive, it was clear that he was in charge. He was well built, just under six feet tall, with short cropped dark hair. His younger brother Andy was similarly built, a little shorter and a little wider though. Brian was tall and skinny with longer hair that tended to hang over his left eye. When he wasn't driving of course. Tagging along behind was their sister, Amanda, the youngest of the group. She was shorter than her brothers, with glasses, long dark curly hair which she usually held up with clips. They all had the same pale blue eyes, which their mother had taken to calling the Morrissey eyes.
"Good practice tonight guys." Bill said, sitting down on the top of the picnic table. Amanda glared at him, but he didn't notice. She'd been driving with them for almost two years now, and he still treated her just as another one of the guys. She'd always had to work harder to impress her brothers, ever since she was a little girl, she always had to work harder just to get her brothers to let her play, and now that they were driving as a team, it was no different.
Of course it had been a good practice, especially from Bill, as he'd been driving Lake Shore for almost six years, and been the man to beat for the past two at least. There practices usually consisted of a couple of solo runs per person, and then they would end up playing four rounds of keep up, where each member took a turn at the front of the line, and would try to outrun each other. Either Bill or Andy usually won, they had the best suited cars for the road. Bill drove a 1967 Corvette convertible, it was well balanced, and the independent rear suspension provided good handling. Andy on the other hand had the best car to attack the course, a 1966 Corvair, but he never seemed to be able to keep up with his older brother, even though his Corvair was a long way from how it actually left the factory. It had been a long project , but the finished result was something to behold. For starters the old rear mounted flat six cylinder was removed, along with the rear suspension, this made way for a mid mounted Chevrolet 350 V8, which hooked up to a regular four speed transmission, and a Corvette rear suspension to replace the old swing axle version. It wasn't the only Corvair to be modified like that, but it was the only one in the area. Almost nothing could keep up with it on Lake Shore, with the motor in the middle there was almost nothing to compete with it
"Alright, it's time we head out of here and get some sleep." Bill said, as he headed back towards his car.

"We have to be ready to race at any time." They all followed him back to their cars and headed for home
Lately there were fewer and fewer real challengers. It didn't seem like any of their opponents even practiced on Lake Shore. It showed in everything they did, whoever they had raced lately just got smoked. But the Bow Tie Boys kept practicing, honing their skills and waiting for the next opponent to come along.

•••

Takumi sat quietly in his car, thinking. It was dark and quiet out, allowing him to feel alone, even though the rest of Project D was just inside the hotel not far from where he sat.. He needed to be alone right now. He didn't really mind sharing a hotel room with Fumihiro, Kenta and Nakazato, but since he'd raced Mike he kept thinking of how he could have won, but with Nakazato and the others always in the room it was difficult for Takumi to concentrate. In the 86 it was much easier, he was alone.
As soon as Takumi closed his eyes the race would start to replay itself over and over again in his mind, every turn, every pass, every maneuver. He scrutinized everything, all the possibilities flew through his head, if he'd kept a tighter drift in one place, if he had straightened the line in another, could he have won? Would it have gained him that extra couple of seconds to stay ahead of Mike? The last drift; had he carried that a little to far. . .
No! He had done it exactly like he had done in practice, exactly what he was supposed to, it had been a perfect drift. There was nothing he could have done to win that race, accept drive faster, go faster; he needed to be faster he knew that, the outcome had proved it. Even though Ryosuke had told him that he turned in the fastest time from Project D that night, that there was really nothing he could have done differently to win that race.
As he sat there in his trusty 86 he thought back to some of the things his father had said, skill could only take you so far in an underpowered car, if you wanted to get faster he had to get a faster car. Takumi knew that a new car wasn't an option at that point, they didn't have the money, not to mention the fact that he didn't want to give up the 86. It had essentially been the only car he'd driven for more than six years, it was almost a part of him, replacing it would be like amputating an arm, or a leg. The car was as much a part of him as any one of his fingers or toes.
That meant, for the time being, the only way to win was to go faster in practice, to go faster in the race. His dad was wrong, the 86 was fast enough, and always would be, he had the skill to make up the difference. If he went faster in practice he would be able to push the limit when it came time to race. He had to win to prove that he belonged with Project D!
Without even realizing what he was doing, Takumi fired up the 86, and headed out of the parking lot. He didn't really know where he was going, but he just wanted to drive, to get his mind sorted out. There was something about the sound of the motor that always seemed to calm him down, to clear his mind. After the years of racing and driving, it had become something very familiar to him.

As he sat at a stop light on Route 4 a purple Honda Civic coupe rolled to a stop next to him. Takumi remained completely oblivious until the other driver revved the motor, causing the turbo blow off to snap. Takumi looked over to see a girl in her early twenties sitting in the car next to him. She had long light brown hair, and stared at him from the driver's seat. She revved the motor again, making a face as she tried to goad Takumi into a race.
Takumi turned forward looking at the stretch of road ahead of him. Even though it was night there were still far to many places for cars to just pop out of on both sides of the road. He didn't rev his motor in response. Again the other driver revved her motor, trying in vain to goad Takumi into a race. Again he looked over at the other driver, who gestured with her hands. Takumi looked back up in time to see the light turn green, there was a sudden roar and the sound of a turbo spooling up as the car next to him launched hard. Takumi knew better than to race that way, it proved nothing really, only that you could go fast in a straight line, it took no skill, required no real technique, it was really just a way for someone else to feel like they had won without really being a driver.
Takumi found the next parking lot before turning around, and heading back to the hotel before his team noticed he was missing, not wanting to be involved with anymore posers.

•••

"What?" Keisuke interrupted his older brother who was still in the process of explaining his plan. "It won't work Aniki." He said, knowing full well that it probably would work; Ryosuke's plans had a knack for working out.
"It will work." Ryosuke said assuredly, continuing in his cool modulated voice. "There's a burger stand on the other side of the city that has a Cruise Night on Friday. If any of the competition around here drives American performance cars the way Mike's team does they will most likely be there on a Friday night."
"Alright, I got that part." Keisuke said, getting a little impatient.
"You remember the other night, how we walked around Riley's with cameras, and nobody really paid us any special attention." Keisuke nodded, of course he remembered, it was just the other night. "That gives us the perfect opportunity, we can show up there in one of the vans, or on Takumi's 86, and nobody will really notice. Allowing us to walk around and take pictures of the cars, and talk with the drivers about what they've done. And I'm sure you can see the advantage in that Aniki."
"But Mike said that they don't setup races at these Cruise nights, that its just an excuse to show off their cars." Keisuke responded.
"Right, which is why we go. The people who race won't be looking for people to race, so their guard will be down, the pictures will at least help us study the cars somewhat before we have to face them."
Of course. Keisuke thought, Study, practice, analyze, all the problems of the world could be solved by those three things according to his older brother. But it usually paid off in the end. Keisuke lay back against the pillow on the bed, Ryosuke was right, it would be very easy for them to collect data on possible opponents.

Then there was the matter of Takumi, he had lost to Mike, and regardless of how much Keisuke had come to respect the kid, the old rivalry still burned deep inside him, making it impossible to not take at least some joy out of the kid's loss. It didn't help that Ryosuke, his own brother seemed to pay more attention to the kid. But the competition had really stopped between them long ago as they were both working towards the same goal, and that was the domination of Japan's street racers with the ultimate goal of becoming professional street racers. The old rivalry had faded into the background as they had become teammates, but still it was nice to know the kid was human.

•••

Amanda crept out the back door of the house and headed for her silver Nova. The sun was just about ready to come up. Some people, actually a lot of people had criticized her for turning a Nova into a road machine, it seemed like every punk kid with a Honda Civic thought there was nothing that could be done to make an American car to perform. Boy did she like seeing their faces at the end of the race.
She nestled into the Recaro bucket seat, the door shutting behind her with a sort of tin can rattle, because, to be honest, the Nova wasn't the best piece of machinery to ever wear the Bow Tie. But it got the job done, and she wasn't the only person to turn heads with a modified Nova, they were light and could take almost any of the motors offered from Chevrolet, they just really needed good suspensions.
The bucket seat held her close and firmly in position. She fastened the four point harness before inserting the key, and turning it to the "ON" position. She didn't start it. The rest of the family was still asleep, and the motor firing was liable to wake them up. Applying pressure to the brakes she released the parking brake. When she put the clutch in the car started to roll back down the drive way to Route 4. Near the bottom of the hill she slowly released the clutch until the motion from the driveline forced the engine to kick over and fire. The mighty 350 rumbled to life as Amanda sat at the end of the driveway, allowing the oil to move through the galleys as the motor warmed up.
Once warmed she flicked on the lights, and with the roar of the motor, and the scream of tires Amanda launched hard down Route 4, laying down twin strips of rubber. So much for not waking her brother. She'd been doing this for the entire spring and summer, as she continued to try and prove herself to her brothers. It was looking good, no one had been able to beat her since the last fall, and her times were getting quicker and quicker on Lake Shore Drive. It would only really be a matter of time before her brothers would see it.
Lake Shore Drive wasn't far from their house. Decelerating slightly Amanda threw the Nova onto the side street, tires squealing at the limits of their adhesion. She planted her foot on the gas pedal, stepping out the rear end slightly as she took the turn, beginning another of her practice sessions. She was determined to be one of the best racers in the area, to make her brother see how good she had