Well…
Don't do it Dysuke!
Well…
I'm warning you!
WELL…!
thump, crash, bang
Um, Kai-kun, do you think we should try to stop them?
Who would've thought that a fistfight could start over who wanted to sing karaoke first! Probably best just to leave them, let's go get a coffee. Hey the owner doesn't look too pleased…
RUN!
Oh I'm sorry, the members of Five Fire Flame are currently busy escaping incarceration, you'll have to wait for their antics a little while, so I threw something together on Usui. Be careful, this one is a bit of a tear-jerker.
Painful Memories.
Nakamura Kenta had gotten to Usui as quickly as his FD would carry him after hearing from Fumihiro. If Ryousuke asked anything of the active RedSuns leader, he hastened to obey… there were certain familial responsibilities to that. As of yet neither Kenta nor Fumihiro had spotted the ST185 Celica, they had inspected the spot where Sodou Kyouichi and Iwaki Seiji had crashed, but after nearly an hour of waiting at C-121 they had yet to see a single car. It was one of the downsides to the touge lifestyle, the sometimes wasted hours on the side of mountains waiting for people that never ended up showing. Things were so much more interesting when Project D had been around…
As the two RedSuns veterans waited patiently at C-121 a much more experienced driver inspected the site of the LanEvo/truck crash site. He had been there only ten minutes, remembering the exact roads to take to find the Usui touge had been difficult and Nicolas Sainz had not been in the mood to stop and ask for directions. By the look of the tire marks and the scraps and impact marks on the guardrail everything had happened as Sodou had said. There was clear evidence of one car cutting quickly in front of the other, before being struck by the truck and pushed backwards into the guardrail. What stood as testament to the skill of all drivers concerned however was the short distance that the two tangled Evo's had been pushed and the fact that the guardrail was still intact. There was no hard evidence of the broken cars remaining; touge racers were quite industrious when it came to clearing away dangers on their favourite passes. Crouching on the road the European driver ran his fingertips over the tire mark almost as one would caress a lover; gently and with supreme knowledge. In that instant Nicolas Sainz remembered.
It was a clear mourning, perfect for testing the limitations of the Toyota Team Racing Corolla. They had entered Rally Spain, masked as a privateer team, with high spirits. The testing of the new Corolla had been going exceedingly well during the early stages of the WRC season and, in his privateer division, Nicolas Sainz had never dropped from the hunt for first place. That gave the team cause for celebration, the rally was a homecoming for their young and vaunted tarmac specialist, and he was expected to sweep the competition away on the high-speed mountain stages that had been set out.
Owing to his second placing on the championship he would be the second out of the day, not so bad a placing, as the leader had the problem of brushing the film of dust, leaves and stones from the road. Although the team leader had issued orders to safeguard the title contention and the valuable prototype car the atmosphere when the young half-Spaniard had launched reached a fever. As the boost instantly responded, the spectators blurred together and team orders collided with hard-won instincts from the Tochigi mountains that had made him such a beast on tarmac. Without realising it himself, his pace had increased immensely when compared to the notes that his co-driver Christopher Ruddock had been calling; he was forcing the braking points much later and testing the full grip of his tires, meaning his cornering speeds were averaging ten kilometres faster than on paper. Never before had the Corolla felt so natural an extension of Nicolas's movements before, never had the newly developed Active Yaw Control and Active Central Diff worked better for the team.
Though he trusted his partner's skills Christopher was beginning to feel nervous, one mistake now, perched on the side of a narrow mountain road could spell disaster; and Nicolas seemed to be increasing his pace every step of the way, completely oblivious to the wearing down of the tires and brakes. Making a mental note to remind the young driver of his team orders when they reached the upcoming straight, Christopher called the necessary coding for the uphill right-hand hairpin they were approaching and turned the page for the following left-hand sweeper. He was startled when the in-cabin phone rang, though Nicolas had blocked it out to set up for the straight that would lead to the high-speed entry.
"Ruddock, dangerous hazard on section 147, Kurosawa clipped a deadfall in his Subaru and pierced the sump, they've broken down and there's oil covering the entire track."
In complete shock Ruddock slammed the phone down and turned to his driver as they shrieked into the entrance for the left-hand sweeping corner.
Section 147.
Very few people really knew the particulars of the following, critical, moments, both Subaru team members were well to the side of the road, awaiting their team to collect the damaged vehicle and the crowd had such a small timeframe to witness the Corolla that most of them couldn't recount it's actions. Only the Toyota driver, reacting as his navigator spat the counselling words, could ever hope to intimately recall those terrible seconds.
In a blur, the warning of Kurosawa's crash reaching his ears, Nicolas's left-foot began the hard braking needed to pull the Corolla up and his left hand repeatedly tapped the sequential gearbox's gearstick forward to downshift. There was one moment, as the brakes and tires refused to bite into the road-surface as they should, where Nicolas and Christopher both knew they had reason to panic.
Then they were out of control.
By braking Nicolas had loaded the weight of the car towards the front and so, when they hit the oil patch, the rear of the Corolla naturally spun around. Travelling sideways the right front quarter-panel struck the marooned Imprezza and spun the Toyota even further. Even as Nicolas reached for the handbrake, the rear end of the Corolla broke through the antique stone wall on the side of the road, and the Toyota Team Racing pair were pitched from the Spanish mountainside.
It had all happened in less than four seconds.
Nicolas Sainz had woken up a week later in a hospital bed.
Christopher Ruddock had not.
As he crouched there, on the side of a mountain where a brave, stupid man had saved Sodou Kyouichi from a very similar fate, Sainz thought the falling rain was very fitting. Then he realised, it wasn't raining at all, he was crying, the tears streaming down his face as they had not before. He had killed the only friend who had ever treated him as an equal, the only real friend he had ever had. In the wake of that nothing mattered, not Tochigi, not Sodou Kyouichi or Takahashi Ryousuke, not his unambitious, uninterested attempt at education, not the sounds of an engine rushing towards him.
He had lost.
Nicolas Sainz, the young man that had prided himself on his heritage and his skill, the young man considered to be the next unbeatable rally driver in the making, had lost.
As he looked at the oncoming headlights he thought to himself that he might as well retire now.
"What the hell are you trying to do!? Get yourself killed if you want, but leave us the hell out of it!"
Nicolas Sainz ignored the outrage in the voice and just stared, stared at that point in the ground where the tire tracks came together. Stared at that reflection of selfless action as though it were the answer to something.
He thought back to Rally Spain, to the celebration, the day before the initial competition. Standing shoulder to shoulder with his grandfather, a man that he had seen very little of since he was a child. The immortal, legendary Carlos Sainz had, in a crowd of their countrymen, proclaimed the future of rally to be on his grandson's shoulders. In a sudden flash of insight he remember that neither his grandfather's nor his own co-driver had a placing on the podium. It really had been a selfish moment of glory, all things considered. There was an old saying that a co-driver could only lose a stage for the driver and thinking back, Nicolas Sainz admitted the absurdity of the quote. Having driven alone for years Nicolas Sainz knew the danger of the unexpected, the danger of miscalculation. A co-driver was the anchor to which a driver's often explosive technique hitched itself. The co-driver was the true hero of rally, not the driver. If Nicolas Sainz had learnt that two years ago, he could have avoided so much pain…
So much pain.
"Are you alright sir?" The voice was different, not the angry, aggrieved voice of before. Someone different, but still Nicolas Sainz ignored it. What did it matter?
"Please sir, you have to get off the road, it's not safe." Nicolas felt a pair of smooth skinned arms struggle vainly below his chest to lift him. He would have ignored it, save that he thought the poor person might tip over with the difference in their weight. Half dragged, Nicolas Sainz made his way to a standing position. As predicted his would-be helper overbalanced and he had to spin and throw his arms around the small of the person's back and hold them closely to his chest. The action provoked a blush in both parties.
"I'… I'm sorry. You shouldn't worry about me." Nicolas reflexively tucked a stray strand of his hair behind his ears.
Standing opposite, the polite young lady gave an enchanting smile.
"You shouldn't say such things. Are you… Nicolas Sainz?" Slightly suspicious, Nicolas nodded the affirmative. "Oh, I thought so, Takahashi Ryousuke sent us to look for you. Would you like to get some coffee?"
At the mention of the White Comet, Nicolas felt oddly dead, as though the good dead the young woman had shown him was nothing more than a mechanical response to the orders of the Akagi driver. Suddenly aware of his puffy eyes and the streaks of moisture on his cheeks he turned from her and made for the sanctuary of his GT4.
"Thank you but I'm going for a drive along the Usui pass."
Knowing that the reasoning for Dr Takahashi's phone call to them might very well be the chance of the young man doing himself an injury, the woman, no stranger to attacking the corners on the winding mountain roads, thought it best to dissuade him of his chosen course, or at the very least accompany him for his own safety.
"We could come with you…"
The young man stopped from his retreat, but did not turn around.
"You wouldn't keep up."
A shocked gasp passed through both of the assembled racers. The young woman looked insulted.
"Is it because I am a woman?"
Once again making for his driver's seat the young man responded.
"No."
The other racer, the passenger by the looks, did not make her rebuttal so meek. Face going red in fury they made quite clear what they thought of Nicolas Sainz.
"Can't keep up!? Even with that out of date 4WD piece of rust you couldn't keep up with us through one corner, let alone the entire course you fetid arrogant amateur. They were pathetic in the WRC and they're pathetic on the mountains!"
Pathetic in the WRC?
Nicolas Sainz's hands clenched immediately and the sound of grating teeth permeated the humid air. With a savage twist his door came open, almost off at the hinges. He remember his friend, he remembered his grandfather, he remembered the empty feeling when he awoke in hospital, when he confronted Christopher's sister. With everything he had seen, with everything he had done, Nicolas Sainz had nothing left to fear, nothing from life, nothing from death. With a snarl he leapt into his bucket seat.
"Then prove me wrong!"
Gee I wonder who Sainz is so angry with Evo Prime? Night Kids? Emperor? Hell could it be Kyoko of the NW All Stars.
Guess you'll just have to wait and see now won't you.
So I finally revealed the heritage of Nicolas Sainz, the observant probably guessed his grandfather was the Matador Carlos Sainz, but now you know for sure and you see why it is that young Nicolas Sainz fled to Tochigi.
Please read and review.