Part II

"Shit! What is this?" grunted Seiji as he slowed to read the road sign. "Mt. Myougi? What the fuck?" He growled several more obscenities before pulling over to the side of the road. Toggling his hazards, he flipped on the interior cabin lights and yanked out his map book.

He had stormed out on Kyouichi and the rest of the team, literally. Not bothering to check a map before tearing off in his Evo IV, he had been too angry (was still too angry) to really care where he was going. And now, he was lost.

If he subscribed to theories on the subconscious, he might have made the argument that he wanted to be in the place of his most recent victory, in the hopes that reliving that moment would make him feel better. But Seiji wasn't much of a philosopher, and he pretty much thought that was just so much bullshit. If someone were to ask him why of all the places near Maebashi he had driven to Myougi, his answer would probably have been "Mind your own fucking business," accompanied by a string of expletives, in order to avoid having to admit that he'd just plain gotten lost. Well, that, and because he truly enjoyed pissing people off.

He paged through several maps of the Gunma area, and snorted in disgust. He wasn't much on map reading…that was Kyouichi's field of expertise; all he did was drive. He frowned. After some deliberation, he decided that it would be a waste to have driven all the way out here and then gone home without getting a couple runs in on the course. Besides, as angry as he was, he could use some stress relief. With newfound determination, he eased back onto the road and started up the mountain.


The EG6 driver briefly considered timing himself as he rocketed from their usual starting place at the top of the mountain, but decided against it when he couldn't find his stopwatch. Besides, tonight wasn't about serious practice…it was about blowing off some steam. Driving always made him feel better, no matter how awful he felt.

He tapped the steering wheel pensively as he accelerated out of the corner. Rather than dwelling on his horrible workday, his mind kept returning to Takeshi. Keichi was right...something should be done. He had never seen Takeshi so depressed and he wanted to help, but had no idea what to say or do.

"People respond to compassion. A kind act is worth a thousand words," He recited, frowning with concentration as he tried to remember the next part. For some mysterious reason, Takeshi thought he needed to work on his people skills, and so had given him a series of lectures on audio tape. Although Shingo thought the tapes were the most nauseating garbage he had ever heard, he listened to them anyway…but only when Takeshi was around to hear him listening to them. Despite all attempts to block out the insidiously catchy phrases, however, a few of them had stuck.

"Now what the fuck was that next part? Stupid goddamn shit," he cursed under his breath. "Oh yeah! Good communication is the foundation of a healthy relationship. A relationship is a two-way street. Now what in the hell does that mean?" he growled. "A two-way street…hmm…well, I guess it means I can't cross the center line. But what's the line supposed to symbolize? Trust? Love?"

Thankfully, before he could travel any further down the path of lunacy known as self-help, he was blinded by a bright light flashing in his rear view mirror. Deep in thought, he had missed the approach of the oncoming car. Growling in the back of his throat, he increased his speed.

"Want to play, huh?"

The vehicle behind him matched pace with him and flashed its lights in his eyes. He snorted – there was no way he was going to yield to that asshole. To his utter surprise, at the next corner, the other car shot around him, overtaking him on the right. He saw a flash of white, and then it was in front of him, the gap between them widening by the second.

"What the hell?" he yelled, stomping on the accelerator. Despite accelerating at max speed on the straightaway, however, the other vehicle gradually pulled away.

He had only gotten a glimpse of it, and hadn't been able to discern the make or model. But it was white, and very fast. He conducted a mental search of every Myougi racer with a white car that he knew could pull off a stunt like that, and came up blank. It was inevitable, since the only Myougi racer who could have passed him like that was Takeshi.

"Whoever the hell you are, you're a long way from home," he muttered as he tried in vain to keep up with the fast receding taillights.


Seiji cackled as he left the pathetic Civic eating his dust.

"You should get a better car, Honda boy. But then, you'd still lose," he declared.

He suddenly realized that for the first time since he lost the race, he was smiling. Maybe he shouldn't have passed that guy so hastily. He had glimpsed a Night Kids sticker in the window of the rear hatch, and he wondered if it might prove interesting. The Night Kids had a colorful reputation, after all, and the fact that the other driver had refused to yield to him meant that, if nothing else, he was an arrogant prick. In Seiji's experience, those sorts of people were always more fun to piss off. Besides, whom else was he going to ask for directions?

Smirking in anticipation of a little fun, he slowed his speed and waited.


After several minutes of manic driving, Shingo simply gave up. The way the white car had flown by, there was no way he could catch him. He sighed and eased up so his tires wouldn't be completely trashed by the end of the night. If there was one thing he didn't need, it was more things to pay for.

Consequently, he wasn't aware that he was gaining on the other car till he was almost on top of it.

"Now what's this?" he asked aloud. He figured the car would have been long gone by now, and at the speed it was moving, it should have been. Puzzled, he drove a little closer. Suddenly, recognition dawned on him like a lightning bolt from the sky.

"LanEvo!" he shouted in his excitement. A white Lancer Evolution! There was only one person he could think of who drove a vehicle like that, and he definitely didn't live in the area. He edged closer to the Mitsubishi, until they were only centimeters apart. It was then that he saw the team sticker in the rear windshield. "Emperor," he spat with obvious disgust.

He didn't know what Iwaki Seiji was doing there, but he knew one thing: Seiji had been waiting for him. How else could he have caught him so easily?

"You wanna screw with me? You picked the wrong guy, Iwaki."

He drew closer and closer to the white Evo IV until…


THUMP.

"What the fuck?" Seiji howled in shock. "You stupid son of a bitch! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Surprisingly enough, Seiji happened to believe in a rather old-school code of conduct, a set of limits and boundaries that one did not cross. Granted it was a flexible code, but on some things he stood firm and one of those rules that he truly believed in happened to be respect thy neighbor's paintjob.

Seiji increased the distance between them, but the red hatchback quickly closed the gap and nudged his car again. He knew full well that at any moment, he could simply speed off into the night, leaving that idiotic driver choking on exhaust. But considering Seiji had invited this encounter by purposefully waiting for him, to drive off now would be akin to running away when the going got tough.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he asked the paintjob-disrespecting car dancing in his rear view mirror, so close he could almost see the blasphemous driver in the backwash of his own headlights. Again, he was thrown slightly into his seatbelt as the other car tapped his bumper with a loud whump. Just as their cars recoiled slightly from the impact, he felt his tires lose their previously solid grip on the road.