FOREWORD: I, HashiriyaGDB, am submitting this Initial D facfic on behalf of Midnight Dorifuta, the author of this fanfic and a fellow user on the Initial D World Forums. The only things I've done to this is correct some (if not all) the typos.

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Chapter 19: The Angel in Disguise

A lonesome Ryousuke Takahashi sat on the roadside, leaning against his car. Eyes drifting off to the distance, he calmly exhaled, it being so cold outside that his breath was like steam. His back was rested against the pearl-white skin of his newly-acquired car, Ryousuke in no rush to go anywhere or do anything. A few cars passed by at a mild speed over the crest of the hill and down the steep-ish slope, tire tracks appearing near the bottom, and shards of broken glass, but nobody seemed to care, as they ran over the pieces and crushed them into finer and finer particles. Occasionally, a car would slow to check on what appeared to be the victim car, but just ended up driving on when the man acknowledged his condition with a subtle nod.

"It was a pretty bad miscalculation. No... not a miscalculation, a lack of information." The Roadster RS' tachometer needle lay dormant at but not a single revolution per minute to read, and the car seemed quiet... calm... perhaps, even injured. Placing one hand on the fender to ease himself up, Ryousuke slowly rose to a stand before walking muselessly to the front of his car.

"I still should have known better than this. Then again, it's suprising that this much damage occured and I was only going about 70."

The nose of the car was crumpled in, and the intercooler was also smashed completely off, the car's mild bodykit on the nose devoured by the carnage his reckless move delivered to the front end, and his nose was broken by the car's airbag deploying. The engine computer safety devices locked up the fuel pump and ignition and he couldn't reset it without a tool, so he was stranded there until help arrived. "In my FC, I would have been able to make it home already. This ECU annoys me. Maybe I'll switch to a standalone incase something like this happens by suprise again."

The blinding sunset was the culprit here. This course had sections and tree covers that blocked out daylight, causing him to have his headlights on during the run, but on top of that, there were uphill angles that put the sun directly in his eyes, forcing him to resort to gut feeling and his memory of the course map to make accurate judgements. But the one thing this road map didn't mention was how on the next-to-last corner, the uphill turned to downhill so fast that it could send a car sailing into the air if not accounted for via the use of brakes.

But then, just as he was about to find a short pier and take a long walk back into Tokyo, since his cell phone picked one of the most awesomest of times author's note: That's an intentional misspell, ladies and gents. to not be in service, another red Roadster RS stopped just behind Takahashi's, Ryousuke blinking to the agressively-tuned exhaust note, and more notably, its pizza logo. Another delivery kid, eh? This will help a lot., he sarcastically thought to himself as the driver climbed out, and then his eyes really widened a bit. It was a girl. A charming little girl, too, who seemed to be the perfect size for the Eunos Roadster RS, as opposed to the lanky Ryousuke who seemed out of place in such a compact car.

"Something wrong, sir?", she asked, looking a little bit on the nervous side. Ryousuke nodded a little. "Yeah, I kind of busted my car a little on that hill there. The sun blinded me and it was my first time up, and the hillcrest came before I could slow down. The nose is a little crumpled, and the ECU killed the engine. The frame looks okay, though."

"Gee there, a lot of techno-whiz stuff- but yeah, that is pretty nasty. I almost made the same mistake", the girl replied, sounding a little sarcastic but it was clear that it was an attempt to cover up how oblivious she was to all the car-talk Ryousuke was babbling on about. "Well, anyway, I stopped because you drive a car just like mine, and seeing this is a rarity, since they're brand new cars. The old Roadster died. Can I call somebody for you? I have a phone, and it works..."

Ryousuke paused, his mind still stuck on the part where she said that she almost screwed up the first time here. She sure didn't look, nor act or sound like a street racer, however, pause and rewind to a year and five months back, and Ryousuke saw the same situation with someone equally oblivious to their car and driving ability; Takumi Fujiwara. Needless to say, he had his doubts, but at the moment, his interest was slightly sparked. "Uh, sure", he replied.

"One of my friends is good at healing cars", she said with a bit of a smile. "I think he knows something about that... that UCE thing, you said?" Ryousuke tried desperately to not smack his forehead with his palm. He restrained it to a simple emotionless response. "ECU, you mean." "Right", she nodded, "The ECU. What's your name, by the way? I take it you're one of those guys who race."

Ryousuke again, calmly replied, "I race sometimes. The name's Ryousuke Takahashi." The girl canted her head to the side for a second, beginning to speak, then unconsciously starting to babble about her friends - a rare thing for her to do, but when she does it, she can't stop rambling. "I think I've heard your name before. Me and my friend go to the Shibuya 109 a lot. Her name's Kurumi, and her boyfriend - the same mechanic guy - knows a lot about cars, and he talks about these mountain guy racers. I think he's talked about you before. He showed me this place, too. It's a fun little ro-"

An old egg-shaped car screeched to a halt, startling the lady and slightly setting off Ryousuke. He was usually reserved, but that was a pretty reckless move that he pulled. The driver got out, already laughing, sneering at Ryousuke Takahashi, the man just bringing bad news with him. "Wow, talk about pathetic. So -you- were the annoying little well-heeled flea that was bogging my Europa going uphill, eh? I can't believe the famous Akagi White Comet gave up all his mojo. For shame. You're making your community look bad."

Ryousuke seemed slightly irritated at that gesture, looking again at the driver's car, inside, crossing that name off in his head. That's not a Europa he's driving right now, though... but it's good I know that car's name. "Hey", Ryousuke said, in just a slightly sharper normal tone, "What are you talking about, me giving up my so-called 'mojo'?" The second track his mind was on was still trying to decypher the car before him now. It looks kind of like a cross between those European Porsche 911 cars, but it's too old and small-looking, I think...

"You know what I mean. Your FC. How in God's name could you give up a fine new sports car for this piece of shit?"

The girl's face was red. And not from embarassment, either.

The man went on. "Well, I can understand, though. Although your girlfriend's car is equally gay, at least you've finally found one. Eliminates all doubt in my head about your sexuality, although you shouldn't let yourself get so pussy-whipped... you pushover." Smirking, he pointed his index finger at Takahashi. "The name's Hiroki Tagawa, and I'll be seeing you around near Myogi." Brushing off all sense of hatred torwards him, he casually climbed into the cockpit of his classic-looking car and drived off. Ryousuke shook his head and sighed, knowing that trying to debate with an egotistical idiot like that would be like talking about the JGTC season with this airhead within ten feet of him. Speaking of her...

Ryousuke heard the sound of something plastic shattering. Looking around, he saw black liquid-crystal dripping from what was the display of her phone, now the phone effectively crushed. Her eyes were on fire, and her fists tight and trembling. "...that about ME and MY car...", she muttered, before her piercing glare set itself on the elder Takahashi brother.

"Get in, Ryousuke!" Ryousuke, a little bit stunned by the girl's torrent of emotion that flared up into an aura perhaps stronger than Takumi's, took a half step forward, before she persisted. "Hurry up already and get in! And buckle up." She was already in the car, the engine revving as Ryousuke hurried the hell up and stumbled in, the door almost not shut before the car took off in burning rubber, spinning into a 180 before beginning to charge down Hakone's downhill.

"Understand two things", the girl said to Ryousuke, "One, I've driven here enough. And two, I'd never do this normally, but nobody will insult me or my car like that. That's obscene ignorance."

Ryousuke, holding on to his seatbelt and not having a clue just what was in store for him. "Un", he said, in a bit of a nervous nod, watching the girl assault the first corner of Hakone with a nervous depth to his eyes.

-

Speaking of the Sibuya 109, that was exactly where Takumi Fujiwara and Natsuki Mogi were heading off to. It wasn't the most pleasant of trips, though, for some reason or another. Neither of the two spoke much torwards another, and the ride there just seemed, pretty... dull. The couple didn't seem interested in sparking conversation from either side, and the fact the car's radio was off only made it worse. But at the 109, at least, they could try to get along. There were people about, left and right, all shopping for one thing or another. The crowd was composed mostly of younger kids, not quite preteen, but maybe 15, 16, 17 years of age, a lot of them girls, some with boyfriends, all giggling and laughing and being wonderfully indulged in their Mommy's-credit-card-sponsored shopping sprees.

Fujiwara and Mogi seemed to be an odd couple in this crowd of "scene" kids, both dressed in rather dull apparel.

"Hey, Takumi, what exactly got you into so cars, anyway?", she asked, as they approached a food court, trying to stay optimistic.

"Not much. I just... I felt the urge to race. You remember how I used to be before my senior year.", he replied, dullly.

"Yeah, I do. Girls looked at you odd."

"Did they... do you?"

"I kind of did, but I thought you were cute in a way. That's why... you know... I stopped going out with other guys."

"I don't see what you liked in me so much, though. I'm a pretty dullard person, aside from wanting to be worthy to Ryousuke."

"Yeah... he's a pretty good driver..."

The date was beginning to go sour. Both Natsuki and Takumi looked off in different directions, not really paying much attention to each other. Takumi's eyes veered off at a water fountain in the center of the mall, and Natsuki was watching a pair of girls parapara to a video, a small crowd gathering around them.

"Oh, look!", Natsuki suddenly said, getting out of her seat as she identified the dancer. "It's Megami-san from Tokyo U! I'm going to go see her, alright? Catch you some other time!"

"Uhm... right...", Takumi muttered, watching his ex sprint off, before sighing a little.

"She says she's changed, but she's the same old Mogi underneath..."

-

Our young silver-haired warrior stood before a dimly-lit garage in a rural section of Japan. He thought he saw a car driving here, but maybe he was wrong. He tried racing up this mountain in his wife's subtle little Toyota Sera but it didn't turn out to be much of a competitor, needless to say. He saw this car pass him on the way there, and... no matter how hard he tried to make it out, he couldn't. It wasn't like the car was a blur to him, no, it was just... it couldn't stay in his memory. He couldn't pick up on its shape or anything, which was odd, given Kealan Sandars had a sniper-accurate eye for just about all cars out there.

"Didn't I see it pulling into this driveway?", the elven boy muttered. His ears twitched as he heard someone - no, two people, walking up the driveway. Arguing. His eyes seemed to decieve him... or was it really suddenly daylight out again, a warm, summertime sunset? The figures were blurry, and Kealan's mind was set in a blur, his body seemingly frozen as all he could do was witness the two faceless beings arguing.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GO OUT DRIVING AGAIN! I'VE HAD IT WITH THAT CAR OF YOURS!"

"Naki, please..."

"NO! JIRO... Oh my god, Jiro... you pour so much time and effort into that car. It's like it's got posession of you. God damn it, Jiro, there's something wrong with that car! It's fast and dangerous, it 'wants' to be that way, and you just keep feeding it more horsepower! You're going to kill yourself!"

He couldn't make out facial expressions, but he could sure hear them in the girl's tone of voice. And he noticed the pause, remaining still.

"...The car's just fun to drive. Ever since I put the wrench down and began working on her, she's satisfied me."

"Jiro, you're talking to the car like it's a fking living being! I didn't get engaged with you to have a machine take up more of your time than me! God... It's been five years already, and we're still living in an apartment! You keep this car here because we don't even have our own driveway and the landlord only lets you drive one car... God, you've wasted so much money... at this rate... we'll... we'll..."

Kealan watched wordlessly as the woman fell on her knees, and began to sob, although it seemed to echo. The people seemed to be moving shadows before him as the fiancee got down before her, holding a hand on her shoulder. Stephen King might disapprove of what happened next;

"Alright... I'm going to take her out for one last drive then, and then I'll park her here forever. I promise. I'll leave his car alone, and focus on you, Funaki."

Another long paused, as the woman regained her composure, and he could almost feel her beaming at her fiancee. "Alright. But, Jiro... if you touch this car again, we're through. I can't go on like this any more."

"No, tonight will be the last night, I promise. I don't benefit from racing with this car, anyways. It's not even legal on the circuits, and is only good for street racing."

"I'll let you do your drive, then... just... for this one last trip, be careful."

"I will. I promise."

He watched as the two appeared to kiss, before they both started walking off in seperate directions. The woman walked torwards the shadowy figure of an old sedan, and he was walking straight torwards Kealan. Sandars thought that the man was going to run him right over, but just as he could make out his face, and almost got walked into, he felt a cold shiver, and was able to move. Although in disbelief, it wouldn't be the first time that kind of thing was used on him, but as he glanced behind him, the figure was gone.

Although what he spoke next was in Japanese, it would be 6 years later before what Kealan said next would become a pop culture mini-icon in America. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Cocaine is one hell of a drug."

Ignoring his gut feeling, he felt pulled to the garage, and for a minute or two, observed its rusty old door, and the latch handle that looked like it wasn't touched for 10 years or more. Maybe it hadn't been, for all he knew. He seemed to not have any additional strength over his once-human state, and struggled to get the latch open.

The next task was opening the garage door, and the door felt like the springs holding it shut were long removed. When he actually got the piece of shit lifted up, lo and behold, they were removed. And the garage reeked of mold and mildew. It was dark... dank... glum. There was moisture everywhere. It seemed to be like walking into a small compartment of one of the more forgiving layers of Hell. And the garage's centerpiece didn't look like much, anyways. It was covered in a drab, rotted old car cover, that was coated with a thick layer of dust. He already pictured the car's rotting shell underneath, knowing that something that was old enough to be sitting here this long, also added to that mid 1980's undercoating technology, surely meant a somewhat messed up body and underbody.

Regardless, he bit his lip, tugging lightly at the cover, then saying screw it and yanking the bish completely off. And that... is when he began to think he was seeing things. For one, a florescent light that illuminated the garage and looked like its service life was well overdue, flickered on, brightening (and exposing the awful condition of) the whole place up. The car, for one, wasn't the prettiest thing, no, but it came that way - a boring brown exterior with two-tone tan and black interior. It was a... a...

"I've heard of these, but... I don't get it. What's with this car? I can't place it in my head, and there's no badging!"

The shocker was the car both looked stock from the body and was pristine. It practically smelled new, although Kealan faintly also picked up a whiff of the essence of un-catalyzed exhaust from race gas. But he took that as just dreaming things. The car in no way, shape, or form looked anything remotely agressive. Its oddball rear hatchback and dual rectangular headlamps suggested just slight vigor, but nothing else. The wheels looked a bit wide for their age, but appeared stock. And the paint just gleamed in all of its late 1970's glory. The only thing that seemed out of place were the four hoodpins holding the hood - whose cowl induction was so subtle he mistook it as stock - on. Kealan looked at the car from head-on, kneeling before it, staring its headlights down.

"Aside from being in showroom condition, I don't get it at all. Are you really the car Jiro was talking about?"