Ricky flexed his fingers, encased in red and black leather. He felt the wheel through the thin areas near his palm, using his whole body to feel his car. He flung the car around the corners, with a subtle motion that showed experience gained only from hundreds of passes of this corner. The RX-7 barely avoided scraping the inside of the corner, and he slammed on the accelerator on the way out. This was his home turf, and this was the same as any routine. The only difference was this was where he felt alive, on the edge, where a single mistake could mean the end.
Keith found that Japan didn't have a drop of good whiskey in the entire country. He sat behind the wheel of his mustang as his vision blurred slightly. He was supposed to meet Ricky at the bottom of the hill, something about project B or some sushi shit. The Irishman behind the wheel had ten shots of liquor in him as he took a curve at three times the posted limit. He kicked the clutch and threw the car into a drift while reaching into his sport coat for his flask to make the count eleven. Why did he even have a job as an accountant? They weren't even really people working in that building. Even though the girl at the front desk had an abnormally large breast. He noticed he was looking at his own feet and not the road and looked up to see a to see a sharp turn coming very fast. "Shit."

Ricky found himself waiting. He'd been there about ten minutes until he heard tires squealing very loudly and the sound of Keith's five liter V-8 "Finally." He said.

Kagami leaned against his S-15. "My question. How the hell hasn't he crashed yet?"

"What does that mean?" Kageyama moved closer. "How many tonight?"

"Ten." Shouichi stated simply. "Daniels."

"Oh, fuck..." Ricky shook his head.

A black mustang squealed around a corner and straightened before driving right past the group waiting there for him. "Yup, he's drunk as a skunk." The Car screeched to a halt and started to reverse back and Keith again missed his part and drove past the other way.

"This is starting to seem like tennis" Kagami commented. The car stopped and crawled for two minutes until he was finally level with his racing team.

"Why am I not surprised that the passenger rear view is gone?" Shouichi whispered loud enough for Ricky to hear.

"I'm more surprised the entire door isn't gone." Ricky said as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

The large mustang engine sputtered to a halt and suit clad Keith attempted to get out of his car. He did so, but stumbled on his way to Ricky. "I want to sing right now but I don't want to make your ears crack." he took another swig off of his flask and looked at Ricky. "Can I borrow one of those?" he said as he motioned toward the cigarette.

Ricky held out his pack of lucky strikes. "Dozo."

Kageyama laughed, almost backing up into his Impreza. "Oh, shit, here we go."

As if coming up just in time for the moment, a turbo spool was heard. Kengo was on his way.

Keith didn't pay any attention to that "You know that I hate it when you speak Pikachu." he said as he put the cigarette between his lips. Ricky rolled his eyes and turned away. "Don't fucking do that shit to me! You know how much I hate that language. It sounds like chickadees choking on newspaper. That's how bad it is!"

Kengo came rolling around the corner and had to swerve to avoid the mustang that Keith had left in the middle of the road.

"Perfect timing!" Ricky shouted in Japanese. Kengo was their tech support. His T-100 certainly wouldn't win any races, but it was good for hauling, and Kengo had a talent for getting parts for cheap. "Dumbass over here knocked off his passenger side mirror..."
"Yeah, I'll get another on." He pulled into the parking area. "But first, tell that Gaijin to get his car in the damn lot!"

"What did he do this time?" Keith asked, thinking that Kengo was talking about Ricky. "No worse than anything you do." Kengo snapped. He had fixed enough of Keith's car to hate him. But everyone knew that Keith couldn't drive unless he was filled with alcohol, so the put up with it.

"A rearview?" Kengo asked exasperated. He turned to Ricky and pointed to the drunken Irishman. "Why?" he asked in Japanese. Ricky laughed. "Because he can kick your ass in an uphill."

This was the image that people found coming up the Hakone pass in this particular lot- Four locals and two white foreigners, working on cars. SpeedEnd, as they were known, didn't seem like much until one found out that the two Gaijin were actually the best drivers.

As Rick popped the hood of his FD, he took a minute to look back at his past. Born and raised in California, he'd loved fast cars his whole life- the very day he got his license, he got his first speeding ticket. A week later, he won his first race. It was by happenstance that his parents moved him here when he was 17, and now, three years later, he had adapted. He spoke Japanese as well as any local, read it, and knew these roads the way only the best did. Of course, his FD, Modified with a twin turbo system and an RE Amemiya body kit helped, but he won races on skill. This road, this team- they were his pride and joy.

"What is this Project B crap you were going on when you interrupted my drinking session today?" Keith asked Ricky. Keith was born in Ireland of two farmers. Growing up he had always been a shy boy. He never drove very well and got into an accident a month after he got a permit. When he went to college, however, he first tried Whiskey. His father raised him on beer but that never did anything to him. After his first shot of whiskey he remembered looking at his friends and smiling before blacking out. When he awoke, he was in bed with a woman in British territories. When he asked his friends, they told him that he drank more than anyone at the party and could drive better than any of them. He had to leave Ireland because his last relationship "Ended in a broken collar bone and a dead meek rat." He moved to America, where he tried to join AA, but found "All of the fuckers sucking on coffee more Depressing than the thought of being an alcoholic. He had to flee the country for fifty-three unpaid parking and traffic tickets. Ironically, he never got a single DUI. "They can't catch me when Jack Daniels is my co-pilot." He moved to Japan for no real reason and got a job as an accountant.

He met Ricky when he thought Ricky had given him the bird one night on the way to the hills (When in reality, he was just waving to a friend) and almost won against him in an uphill run. Ever since then he had been a part of SpeedEnd. He lost fifteen percent of his races, but rarely to lack of skill. Once he didn't show up because the whiskey he was drinking made him focus more on the three women at the bar and how to get all of them in to bed at once than on the race he was supposed to attend. Another was that he had double vision so bad that he started before the race initiator dropped his arm. But Ricky thinks the funniest one was where Keith was so drunk that he forgot he was racing and drove home.

"Project D." Ricky corrected. "They've been racking up wins all over Kanto with only one night of practice in unfamiliar territory." He paused. "They're coming here."

Kengo dropped the spanner he was holding. "Oh, FUCK."

"Oh? Why are they coming here?" Keith asked.

"To play cards." Ricky said while looking over the different specs.

"I didn't bring a deck of cards" Keith replied.

"To race Dumbass!" Kengo spat.

"I know that! Don't doubt the master of sarcasm!" Keith tried to swivel around by lost his balance in the process. "Why are we so worried about these pieces of crap anyway? Lets bury these fuckers."

Ricky shook his head. "You wouldn't be worried, you drunken prick. I'm the one who should be worried." He looked over the record for his opponent. "The guy I'm up against has NEVER lost. Not to a GTR, not to an FD, Not even to an S2000;" He grinned. "Can't wait to see what he drives."

"He's never lost because no one has seen him lose..." he said mystically as he wobbled back to his car.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kengo asked.

"If I knew... I would ignore you." Keith replied. He got into his car and started the engine and rolled back to get out of the road and left Kengo standing with the rearview that he was about to replace in the middle of the street staring at open air

Ricky knocked on the Chevrons posted on his driver's side door. They all had these, in varying amounts, based upon their skill. Ricky's and Keith's had the full four. The quarter panel also bore a card suit and number, their title, if they would. Ricky looked at his- The Ace of Spades. Keith had the King of Clubs, Kagami, the Queen of Diamonds, Shouichi, the Jack of Hearts, and Kageyama, the white Joker. Kengo got the black joker, simply because he was "A sneaky son of a Japanese bitch, " as Keith once put it, which, besides the single black Chevron, was the only mark on Kengo's truck

"I'm amazed we even gave him the third Chevron." Kagami shook his head from his point, sitting on his Silvia's hood, pointing at keith's car.

"I have the full four cause I kicked your ass!" Keith shouted from his car.

"Well, he got it, so he deserved it." Shouichi looked over Keith's mustang. "He may be fast, but let's see..." He leaned against his EVO, thinking. "He's gone through four doors, fifteen mirrors and at least ten bumpers in the past month."

Ricky grinned, pulling one last drag off his cig. "That's just the way our crazy Irishman here drives.

"You're damn right that's how I drive." Keith answered getting out of his car, and then he turned to Shouichi. "Oh and you forget the... Is that the engine of a... Eight-six that I hear?"

Ricky strained his ears. He also heard a Rotary and the rumble of Diesel engines. Suddenly, a Panda Trueno, followed by a bright yellow FD and three support vans pulled into the lot. He read the sticker on the vans clearly- PROJECT. D. "They're here." He said to his team.

"Interesting" Keith muttered and took out his flask again.

"So these are the fuckers that-" Keith stopped and looked at the side of the Eight Six "Ricky, What does that say in the strange language on the side of that car driven by the infant?"

"You really don't have anything nice to say about anyone, do you?" Ricky commented.

"I thought you knew that by now." Keith Replied.

Ricky read the sign. "Fujiwara Tofu shop?" He translated, just as the door opened, revealing a young man wearing a green hoodie. He got out and started walking toward the FD. "I mean, it's not any worse than what you have on the side of yours." Ricky mentioned as he walked up to the young man. Keith looked after Ricky and looked over to his car. On the side of his mustang, it read, I'm a fucked up Irish fucker, you fucking fuck. DEAL WITH IT! "What's wrong with that?" Keith asked innocently as he took another swig

The vans opened up, and the members of Project D piled out. Keisuke got out of his FD and stretched. "Feels good to stretch after that long of a drive." He said to no one. He grouped up with the others. Ryosuke finally got out and, after taking a drink of water, walked over to the members of SpeedEnd with Keisuke and Takumi. At this point, Ryosuke began talking to Ricky in Japanese, so Keith, shit-faced already, couldn't understand a word.

"We're Project D." He said simply. "I assume that you know what we're doing here."

"We're SpeedEnd." Ricky replied. "We got the message. You want to race us, right?" Ryosuke nodded. "I've already spoken to my teammates..." Ricky said. He motioned over to Keith. "Except him. He's drunk at the moment."

"Excuse Me!" Keith Interrupted.

Keisuke stared. "He's my opponent?"

"OI! EXCUSE ME!"

Ricky sighed. "WHAT?" He shouted at Keith

Keith stumbled over. "I was going to say something indignant, but I forgot. I remembered.... and I just forgot again." he turned back to his car and got in, getting his tie caught in the door in the process.

Kengo snorted. "Tie!" he shouted.

"I wondered why my head wouldn't go any farther," Keith said as he roughly took his tie off instead of opening the door.

Ricky turned back to Ryosuke. "I apologize for him, he tends to be that way"

Ryosuke chuckled. "In any case, I request that we have the course to ourselves for the next day. Is that fine with you?"

"Of Course it's not fucking fine!" Keith shouted.

"Say that when you're sober!" Rickey shouted over his shoulder. Ricky shook his head. "Never mind him. Fourteen shots of Jack Daniels do that to a person."

"Fifteen!"

"In any case, I'll make sure you'll be free to practice."

Ryosuke nodded. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." They walked back to their cars and got to work.

Shouichi walked over to Ricky. "Y'know, I'm surprised. They're a lot more polite than I thought they'd be."

"No joke." Kagami piped in. "From their homepage, I thought we'd be dealing with arrogant pricks, but they put out reasonable conditions and did so politely. Now I REALY can't wait to see this race."

Keith got back out of his car.

"Do you want to stay in the car or out of it?" Kagami asked.

"Hey," Keith replied. "I have Indecisive compulsive disorder. I don't know what I want, but I want it and I want IT now." he walked over to Takumi. "Oi! Toddler!" he slurred. "Am I going up against you uphill?"

Takumi, who didn't speak a word of English looked confused.

Keith started to make sweeping hand gestures to try to communicate but successfully made himself look foolish when trying to say, "Are.... You...." he prodded the kid in the chest. "Driving..." made large circular motions with his hands as if he was holding a steering wheel. "Uphill?" He swooshed his hand upward at an angle that almost smacked Takumi in the nose.

Takumi regained his balance and shook his head.

"Oh, well, drink this." he said as he held out his flask. "It's magic juice and will make you go faster."

Ricky grabbed the flask. "Don't worry about that." He told Takumi in Japanese. "I'm your opponent. Name's Ricky McMurray. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand.

"I'm Takumi Fujiwara. Also pleased to meet you."

Keisuke looked over to Keith. "Then I assume this guy's my uphill competition." he looked over the Mustang. "I've never seen this car before." He said.

"It's American." Ricky replied. "A 1969 Ford Mustang."

"And my baby" Keith replied while he swiped at his flask which Ricky kept away from him.

"I see..." Keisuke looked it over. It seemed really bulky- Not really the monster his brother had told him it would be. But, looks were deceiving- Fujiwara's battle against the cappuchino had shown that fact loud and clear.

As if reading Kiesuke's mind, Keith gave up on his alcohol and walked over to his car. "I love this thing." I could tell you all the specifications but I would have to be sober for that and I never liked that feeling so I just chose to forget useless pieces of informational crap. You know, I used to not want a car," he said as he turned to his opponent. "I would think that 'I can't drive and I can't swim. What if I crash into a lake? I am fucked. But then I met my good friend, Jack, and he showed me that its much better in real life and being intelligent isn't all it's cracked up to be." he paused as he looked over to his Japanese opponent and smiled. He pulled out another cigarette and said. "Of course you can't understand a word I said, but that's ok, because I never liked talking anyway because-"

"OKAY!" Ricky interrupted, not wanting to hear Keith's rant that he had already hear a hundred times already. "Let's leave these nice people to practice and sat out of their way, hmm?"

Keith forgot the fact that he was interrupted and said, "And what the fuck am I supposed to do for the rest of the night, hmm? Go home and have a whank?"

"I'm glad the other team doesn't know much English." Shouichi said to Ricky.

"Yeah, no shit." He turned to Keith. "Yeah, have fun waxing your carrot, then."

"If you don't want to do it for me, I'll go find a crack whore in a bar somewhere." Keith said as he got into his car and started it up. "I still don't know why the fuck I even had to come up tonight. This is ridiculous," his muttering continued as he drove of down the hill.

Kengo looked over at Ricky. "He still forgot his side view mirror."

Ricky grinned and pulled out another Lucky Strike. "He'll be back."

"Why do you say that so surely?"

Ricky held up the flask. "Because Keith has to drink his way home."

As he said it, the black mustang Started coming up reverse back up the hill, nearly crashing into Takumi's car in the process. The window rolled down and Keith's hand shot out. "Now!"

***