Chapter 7: Last Days of Glory

The ride home was both uneventful and quiet, with Mike doing the driving and Eric looking out of the window most of the time. The sun was just starting to set as they crossed the Throggs Neck Bridge, crossing over into Long Island. It wasn't until then that the silence was broken by Mike.

"You knew, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You knew that 86 was gonna smoke me, didn't you?"

"Had no clue."

"Bullshit Eric. We've been friends for years, at least play it straight with me."

Eric sighed, "Yeah, I knew. I said it then, and I'll say it now; he's got this aura about him, this air of……it's hard to explain. Keisuke has one, but it's really weak. Ryosuke had the strongest aura I'd even sensed, until that 86 pulled in. His aura was just flowing off of him, and I don't think he even realized."

"And you think that by that alone; you knew he would beat me?"

"Was I wrong?"

Mike and Eric sat in silence for the rest of the drive, Mike dropping Eric off at his house just as the sun sank beneath the horizon.

"Look Mike, for what it's worth, I'm sorry you didn't win. I was pulling for you, but that 86, man. I don't think anyone there coulda stopped him, not even Ryosuke."

Mike nodded, "I know, man, I know. I'll seeya in a few weeks when I call the guys together; right now I need to think about my way of driving."

"Your way of driving is fine, it's just on togue racing-"

"Yeah, I know, we saw what happened. I used to think all racing was is slamming quarters and how many horses you can pack under the hood. Now I know better."

"Welcome to the world of real street racing, enjoy your stay."

Mike smirked, "Yeah, rude welcome though. Anyways, I'll catch ya later."

"Yup."

Mike sped off as Eric walked back towards his house, entering through the front.

"I'm home!"

Eric's mother poked her head out from the kitchen; the smell tipping him off that dinner was cooking.

"Hi hun! How was the race?"

"It was alright, a few surprises."

"Oh? Did anyone get hurt?"

"Nope, not that I saw, maybe a bruised ego here and there, but nothing serious."

"Well that's good, how did Mike do?"

"Lost first race in."

"That's rough, to whom?"

"An import, something from Japan."

"Oh."

Eric went up to his room for the moment, sprawling out on the bed and looking up at the ceiling, exhausted from the tournament.

"Man, I wish that 86 had been around when I was racing. Woulda been a hell of a challenge, probably moreso than Ryosuke."

He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until his mother called him down for dinner. He groggily got off his bed and made his way downstairs for dinner. He ate slowly, not really waking up until about halfway through. After dinner he put his plate in the sink and grabbed his car key, heading out to the driveway.

"Going somewhere?"

"No, just checking on my car."

"Well, it's still there."

Eric walked out the door and over to his car, "That's not what I'm checking."

He stood in front and to the side of it, staring at it, thinking to himself all the while.

"How? How can a simple 86 beat an RX-7 FC? I know that a downhill run can severely limit the horsepower advantage of any car, even an FC has, but can it really negate it to the point where an 86 can beat it? I knew the 86 could dog an RX on the downhill, but to beat it? Could I get MY 86 to do that?"

He stared at the panda 86 long and hard before he answered himself.

"No, I couldn't. Takumi has that 86 tuned to him like it's a part of his body. I'd need years to get to that level of comfort. Besides….I still miss my RX. It felt like I lost a friend, and I guess I'm still grieving."

Eric placed a hand on the hood before he walked back in, heading upstairs to boot up his computer. He chucked the keys onto his bed and sat down, reading through e-mail and going through his usual web sites that he checked daily. Of course the internet street racing groups were abuzz with the news about this busted 86 coming in and winning the first SRT to even be held on American soil. As he was going through all of the reports and such, his friend Amber IMed him.

"Finally got back, huh? Good, you can give me the details from your point of view and kill these bullshit rumors that some lame-ass 86 hatchback won the tournament."

"No rumors, dear. I saw it with my own damn eyes; a lame-ass 86 hatchback beat Keisuke Takahashi and won the whole damn thing."

"I'll be damned; you're serious, aren't you?"

"You had to have been there to really understand it. You know how when a lion shows up, even before any of the other animals see it, they know it's there?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what this 86 was like. It had that kind of aura about it. It showed up, cleaned house and left like it did that sort of thing every day."

"Y'know, I bet you coulda beaten it."

"Guess we'll never know."

"Oh come on, you see something like that, a challenge like that, and it doesn't even spark anything in you?"

"Not anymore, but even if it did, it probably woulda smoked me anyway."

"You think?"

"I know."

"Wow, that good, huh?"

"Better."

"Damn."

The conversation slowly drifted towards her recent boy trouble. It seemed as though her newest boyfriend had finally hit all the wrong buttons when he insulted her friends. A slap and a curse later she was single, but frustrated nonetheless. Eric sat back and listened, or read, however you want to term it, playing the big brother and letting her vent about how she got stuck with all the weird ones.

After she'd thoroughly vented, they both logged off with Eric heading to his room at around three in the morning. He took his keys off the bed and placed them on his dresser, then got into his boxers and a t-shirt and fell asleep on top of the covers, a panda 86 and a black RX-7 running neck and neck in his dreams.

It had been about a month since the tournament and Mike's encounter with the 86. Life had returned to normal, Mike calling meetings every other week to get the New York Nitro together (Eric had repeatedly tried to talk him out of this name, claiming that it sounded like they were some sort of arena football team, but to no avail) and tackle new strips of asphalt.

"Yo Eric, seriously, was the 86 that amazing to watch," one of the guys, Rick, had asked him one night as Jake and Matt peeled off down the road.

"Yeah, it was poetry in motion, no joke."

"Damn, I wish I'd been there to see that."

"It was something special, I'll tell ya that."

They'd all been questioning him about the 86 and its capabilities, seeing as he how he drove one himself. He couldn't for the life of him give them a straight answer, it was that unique.

Now he was home, in front of the kitchen sink, washing the dishes for his mother, his mind trailing off as it often did when he was doing such menial tasks.

"This'd be so much easier if we just had a dishwasher."

He stared out the window at the darkening sky and the rain that was starting to come down. A sharp crack of thunder announced the coming of a downpour and caused Eric to drop the dish he was washing, breaking as it hit the floor.

"Something's not right. Something's definitely not right."

Eric cleaned up the broken dish and tossed it in the garbage, then finished up the rest of the plates. He put the towel back on the hook and headed upstairs. He hadn't even gotten halfway up when the house phone rang, his sister picking it up.

He never got calls on the house phone, so he continued upstairs until his sister called out.

"Eric! Phone call!"

Eric stood at the top of the stairs for a moment. No one he knew called him on the regular phone, they all used his cell…..unless…..

Eric bounded down the stairs and quickly grabbed the phone from his sister.

"This is Eric."

The voice on the other end spoke to him in perfect Japanese, its tone not as flat as the first time he'd heard it, but perhaps…..upset? Maybe even sad?

"Eric? It's Takumi, from the tournament?"

"Right, what's up? You need that mechanic?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

Eric was pleasantly surprised, he hadn't expected to be going back to Japan, but he didn't mind at all, it was such a beautiful country.

"I thought your dad did all the work on the 86?"

"He used to, now it's mine and he won't work on it anymore. He told me I had to learn on my own."

"Don't you have friends there who could work on it?"

Takumi sighed, "Not on the 86, they're used to tuning their own, more modern cars, not an 86."

"Well sure Takumi, I can be there in a couple of days. What's wrong with the 86?"

"Well, it's partially the 86 and partially me."

"Takumi, I don't understand, what do you mean partially you and partially the 86?"

The next sentence that came out of Takumi's mouth was clear, crisp and unbelievable.

"The 86's engine finally blew. I lost."