Chapter Eight: Beat of the Rising Sun
Eric hung up with Takumi and picked his cell phone up, dialing out to St. Karina Air Force Base in Japan.
"St. Karina Air Force Base, this is Colonel Brachett."
"Hey Colonel, its Eric."
The gruff senior on the other end gave a chuckle.
"Ah, Nick's kid! How the hell are ya?"
"M'alright, my old man around?"
"Yeah, might take me a few minutes, I think he's in the middle of a meeting."
"Not like I got anyplace important to go."
The sound of the phone being put down could be heard, along with footsteps getting fainter. Eric sat down, reading the newspaper until, after a few minutes, his father picked up the line.
"Hey son, how are ya?"
"I'm pretty good dad, how's things over in the west?"
"Boring as shit, you know how it is."
"Bet you'd give your left arm for a decent car and a quarter-mile strip of tarmac right now, huh?"
"You know that's what landed me here in the first place, although it's a hell of a lot better than jail."
"You never answered my question old man," Eric smirked as he spoke, knowing what his father would say.
Nick Shields sighed and Eric could almost picture his dad grinning on the other end.
"You bet your ass I would."
"Somehow I figured as much."
"So, I assume this isn't a social call."
"Wish it were. I got a favor to ask."
"What's that?"
"I need you to hook me up with a cargo plane that can carry a Toyota AE86 Sprinter Trueno GT-Apex model out to Gunma Prefecture in Japan."
"Sprinter Trueno, huh? Whose car?"
"Mine."
"Finally driving again?"
"Yup."
"You're not racing again, are you?"
Eric sighed, "No dad, I'm not racing again."
"Look, it's not that I don't want you to, but after what happened to me, and then you with your accident-"
"Its ok dad, I'm not racing. A friend of mine needs some work done on his own 86, this friend just happens to live out in Japan and I need something to drive. Figured since the 86 is already a Japanese car, I wouldn't have to deal with inspections and paperwork and shit."
There was silence for a moment before Nick spoke, "Yeah, I can get you a cargo plane. Tomorrow morning, be at MacArthur Airport, it'll be waiting for ya."
"Thanks."
"Eric?"
"Yeah."
"Stay away from Takahashi. Last thing I need to hear is that you went down in a blaze of glory, literally."
"I told you, I don't race anymore; I've nearly forgotten how to drift anyways."
"A street racer never forgets, just loses his edge."
"I know."
"Talk to ya later."
"Yup."
Eric closed his cell phone and pulled a suitcase out of his closet, setting it on his bed and flipping it open.
"Guess I should pack for warm weather."
He started going through his clothes, taking out what he thought he'd need for the trip, however long it might be. He'd begun to close the suitcase when he looked over and noticed a little bit of black leather sticking out from underneath a pile of papers and magazines.
"Hey, my racing gloves."
Eric regarded the small, leather, fingerless gloves for a few moments before he absently tossed them in with the rest of the clothes he'd already packed.
Six in the morning rolled around and Eric was slowly backing his 86 into the belly of a huge C-2 military cargo transporter. Once it was parked, he got out and helped to secure it down with the straps that were now underneath the car. He jumped out of the back as the ramp was rising up, walking around front and climbing into the co-pilot seat of the cockpit.
After a half-hour layover in California to refuel, they reached Happogahara Airport at around six in the evening. Eric climbed out of the cockpit and walked around back as the ramp was lowering. He jumped in as it hit the ground and started un-fastening the straps, then climbed into the car and drove out of the cargo bay, stopping to thank the pilot and have him give his regards to his old man. Once he got to the parking lot of the airport, he pulled out a small road map of Gunma Prefecture.
"Well, I'm here now," he pointed to a small dot on the map not too far outside Tokyo, "and I need to get here," he traced a line up past Tokyo, Saitama and Chiba, finally stopping on another small dot which read 'Mount Akina', "so if I take this up for a ways, I should hit Takumi's town mere minutes before I hit Akina Mountain. First I should hit a bank and exchange my cash."
Eric drove a little ways before coming across a bank that dealt in currency conversions. He exchanged a good amount of money over to Yen and began his long drive north, windows down to let the warm, summer breeze in. On the drive up, his thoughts kept drifting to the tournament, the 86, the final race and finally, Takumi's sudden phone call.
"I knew it, I knew that engine was gonna blow."
Eric couldn't help but feel sorry for Takumi. Here he was, building up this massive amount of street cred by driving, and winning, in a beat-up hatchback, and now it was severely damaged all because his engine decided to give out at the worst possible time.
"Lady Luck sure can deal a shit hand sometimes."
He passed the time just admiring the surroundings as he continued north, the sky darkening as he went. He was always amazed at how much cleaner; more pure Japan looked than the States. Damn shame he didn't live out here, or at least have the scenery in the States that they had here.
After hours of driving, he finally reached Takumi's town, a nice little place with a great view of Mount Akina. He looked down at his gas gauge and noticed it was nearly empty.
"Damn, need to gas up before I go motel hunting."
He drove down the road a little ways before he reached an Esso Station that looked as if it were still open. He pulled in and drove up to the pump as an attendant came out.
"Welcome!"
Eric spoke, this time in Japanese.
"High Octane, fill it up."
"Sure."
The attendant, he looked no older than seventeen, began to pump the gas into his tank as he looked over the 86.
"You don't look Japanese."
Eric smiled and shrugged, "Hard to look Japanese when you're American."
"What?! You're American, but you drive a Japanese car, and an 86 nonetheless! "
"Just 'cuz I'm from the States doesn't mean I don't know cars."
"Hmph. You couldn't possibly appreciate this classic. The fine tuning, the skill it takes just to use everything this car has. I'm sure an outsider like you wouldn't understand."
"I understand that on the downhill, nothing, and I mean nothing can beat this car…..or so I thought."
The attendant stopped the pump and turned to Eric, tilting his head.
"A friend of mine drives, well, races an 86 around here. I heard his engine blew during the race and he lost. He called me so I could take a look at the car and new engine his dad put in."
"NEW ENGINE?! Takumi never told us he was getting a new engine! I swear, next time I…..hey wait a second, how do you know Takumi?"
"Met him at a tournament in the States, never expected him to call me and tell me he lost."
Eric climbed out of the car as a second, older attendee stepped out of the station.
"Problem here, Itsuki?"
"Uh, no. Turns out this guy is a friend of Takumi's; he's here to help him with the 86."
Eric leaned against his 86, nodding slowly.
"So it's true then, he did lose."
The older attendee nodded gravely.
"Yeah, he lost. God, what was he thinking?! He told us he was gonna go nowhere near Akagi! What made him change his mind?"
Eric perked up at this.
"Akagi? Don't tell me the RedSuns took him down."
"You know about the Akagi RedSuns?"
"If you're a street racer, you HAVE to know the Akagi RedSuns."
"You race?"
"Used to, wrecked a few years ago. I just work on cars now."
"That's understandable, at least you weren't here when that one guy wrecked over at Akagi. Some American almost took down Ryosuke Takahashi, but he hit a patch of oil and wrecked hard, never heard from him again."
Eric froze for a moment, the older attendee's words reverberating through his skull.
"A patch of oil? No, I would've noticed it after three days on the course."
"Hey," the younger attendee spoke, "you ok?"
Eric started back to reality, shaking his head slowly.
"You couldn't know it was a patch of oil."
The older attendee nodded.
"No, it was definitely oil, I was on the corner he wiped out on, saw it with my own eyes."
Eric was thunderstruck. Could it really be, that after all these years, that it really wasn't his fault? He put the thought to the back of his mind for now, clearing his head before attempting to speak again.
"By the way, since you guys know Takumi; why not give me your names? I'm Eric Shields."
The older attendee stepped forward, extending his hand.
"Kouichirou Iketani, leader of the Akina SpeedStars."
Eric took his hand and shook it, "nice to meet ya. Akina SpeedStars, huh? The local street racing team?"
"Yup, and like the name says, we're pretty damn fast. Well, Takumi's pretty damn fast; we're all trying to learn from him."
"Seems reasonable enough, but he's got five years experience, and the way he was taught…I don't think he could teach you to where you'd be at his level."
"You know how he was taught?!"
Eric looked over at the younger attendee.
"Oh! Sorry! I'm Itsuki Takeuchi. Pleasure to meet you! So, how was he taught?"
"I really don't think I should be giving away Takumi's secrets, he might not like it."
"Awwwww man! We've been trying forever to get him to tell us!"
"Sorry guys, you'll just have to wait, not my place to tell."
Eric looked at his watch and cringed.
"Any of you guys know of a decent motel around here where a guy can get some sleep? I'm a day early and Takumi's not expecting me."
"Well, not really, all we really have is love motels down by Lake Akina."
"Wonderful. I wouldn't get much sleep done there, but I guess one will have to do. Where do I go?"
Kouichirou gave Eric the directions, jotting them down as best he could on a map of Akina.
"That's about as good as I can do."
"That should be all I need, thanks."
"No problem, just watch out for the Emperors."
Eric was reaching for the door handle of his car when he turned around.
"The who?"
"There this street racing team from the Nikko Irohazaka. They're all armed with Lancer Evolutions."
Eric's eyes widened visibly at that remark.
"ALL of them are driving LanEvos?"
"Yup, the second best is driving a Lancer Evolution IV, and the leader, Kyoichi Sudoh drives a Lancer Evolution III with a misfiring system. He's the one who beat Takumi."
"Well damn, I'm not surprised. LanEvos are already meant to be rally cars, equip one of those bad boys with a misfiring system and it's one of the best street rides out there."
"One of? Not the best?"
"Yup, the Evo III has to be the second best car out here in Gunma."
Kouichirou looked slightly confused, arms slack at his side.
"Then what's the best car out here?"
"The RX-7 FC."
"You think Ryosuke Takahashi's FC could beat an Evo III?"
"As long as Ryosuke is behind the wheel of it, yeah."
"You might want to head out to Akagi in a few days then."
"Why?"
"Kyoichi laid down a challenge to Ryosuke; I heard he's coming out of retirement to race the Emperors."
"Really now?" Eric smiled at that; the thought of seeing Gunma's best shooting it out was definitely cool.
"I just might. But anyways, I should get going. Thanks for the directions."
"Sure thing, could you just do us one favor?"
"What?"
"Tell Takumi that it's cool that he lost; it's no big deal, really."
"Sure."
Eric got back into his 86 and started down the road towards Lake Akina and the motel Kouichirou had given him direction to. He pulled into the parking lot not a half hour after leaving the Esso station. He locked the car up, took his suitcase out of the back and headed to the doors, taking one last look up at Mount Akina before heading inside.
"Hi, I'd like a room for the night," Eric said, taking out his wallet and opening it up.
"You're alone?"
Eric shrugged and nodded, "Yeah, I'm alone, couldn't find any hotels around because I came in so late."
"Don't get too many single people around here. It'll be 5,000 Yen for the night."
Eric nodded, producing the bills from his wallet and handing them to the man behind the desk as the man handed Eric his key.
"Enjoy your stay."
Eric took his key and went to the elevators, taking one up to the 12th floor.
"Well, at least this place isn't a dive."
It was actually pretty nice by American motel standards, almost like a Ramada or Howard Johnson's. He slid the key into the slot and opened the door after the lock beeped, letting him know the key was accepted. He shut the door behind him, putting his suitcase next to the bed before taking his shoes off and laying down, dead tired from the plane ride and subsequent jet lag. In only minutes, he was almost asleep when he heard what sounded like loud sobbing from next door.
"Great," Eric muttered sleepily, "I'm next to someone in the middle of histrionics."
The sobbing stopped right before a pained voice spoke.
"How did he find out I was a call girl? How could Takumi have found out? He couldn't have been all the way out by Akagi, so how did he find out?"
Eric sat up at the mentioning of Takumi, crawling up the bed and placing his ear on the wall.
"I never wanted him to find out! I stopped seeing Papa because I loved Takumi so much, and now he won't even speak to me!"
The girl who was speaking sniffled a bit before she continued.
"If there is a God, he must be the cruelest God ever."
The girl then broke back down into tears when another voice, another girl, from what it sounded like, spoke.
"It's ok Natsuki. He'll come to his senses."
The other girl, Natsuki, sniffed again.
"I hope so. We we're getting so close, almost as close as…"
Natsuki sighed, taking a moment to blow her nose.
"Thanks for coming to get me, after my parents found out they completely freaked. I need to stay clear of them for a bit."
"Hey, that's what friends are for, right?"
Eric sat back, his mind going over the pieces of the puzzle.
"Takumi finds out this girl he was apparently interested in is, or was, a call girl. Takumi gets angry. Takumi drives around Akagi to blow off some steam….oh no."
Eric lay back on the bed as he fit the rest of the pieces together.
"He got pissed, so he drove around Akagi to blow off some steam. He was probably itching for a fight, so he found Kyoichi. He was probably racing Kyoichi angry, not thinking clearly. Hmph. Maybe the 86 was punishing him for such a foolish move, and Takumi's head is probably still messed up over this, that's why he said it was partially him."
Eric rolled over and closed his eyes, slowly drifting back to sleep.
"Looks like I got more than the 86 to work on."
