OK Number 26 - From The Stormy Centuries
The scene of hurried tyre changes and prolonged waiting was repeated, as the stadiums lulled, impatiently looking to the clouds, as if urging them to pass. With cameras pointing to the sky, and sweepers mounted to the fronts of golf carts furiously shuffling water off the surface of the circuit, everyone was twitching and eager to go. Even before they left the pit lane, Kallen felt the rear slip slightly as she teased the throttle, more as a function of impatience than track inadequacy. In any case, it was almost four o'clock by the time they were underway, beginning their rotation under safety car about the ring, and it was not a moment too soon; any longer, and they would run out of light by the time the race ended, which would place the continuation of the race to completion into question.
And so, when the safety car peeled off, Kallen didn't waste a moment, tackling the throttle, managing the snap, and firing down after Suzaku. She had faffed around behind him for long enough; it was time to attack, now that conditions had largely abated.
Suzaku covered the outside, likely planning to sweep across the inside line, and Kallen stuck to his gearbox, sitting in the spray for as long as she dared. Spits of oil and rubber flew into the front of her car and splattered her visor, and if Suzaku braked she would be unable to stop, however the clean air, carved out by Suzaku's aerodynamic monster of a profile, meant that Kallen had far less drag while in his wake and could close up to him as they shot towards the first corner, almost as one unit by the end.
It was only at the last moment that she suddenly jerked the wheel right, shifting lanes to point towards the apex from a shallower angle, diving up inside of Suzaku with a surprise challenge under braking. Suzaku broke much earlier, allowing her to skate towards the narrowest point of the corners, slowing down as she turned into it.
She fought to keep the vehicle from skidding off the road completely, managing to halt the seven hundred kilogram hulk of carbon a few feet past the apex, and scurried to rotate the thing, stabbing the throttle to force the car to rotate. Countersteering, she controlled the oversteer, and was round.
However, she was only ahead for now. Having traversed the corner in the smooth, clean fashion, Suzaku had retained speed through the transition from one direction to the other, and had the momentum advantage in the dash to the next corner. Kallen tried to block off the outside of the track with her rear end as she willed her car up to speed, but the speed deficit to Suzaku was too great, as he shifted to the far side of her as the outside kerb turned to the inside of the next corner. Now, with Kallen on the inside as they moved towards the off camber sweeper, Suzaku amazed Kallen by swooping fully around her outside, using his excess speed to complete the move in one stroke, from behind to outside and then around in a single smooth motion.
However, Kallen was not finished with him, as she trailed him through the blind turn that followed, with the car suffering with the dirty air robbing her off downforce, making the car feel light, and lacking in any feel in its grip. It took all the squirrelling with the wheel she could undertake to keep the car from spinning away from her, however she succeeded in gliding the boat through the eye of the needle, before trying again around the outside turn five.
What followed was a long awaited duel. They had not partaken in a one-on-one battle since they both obtained front running, competitive cars, and now the battle was joined. On this lonely, soaked Central European strip of tarmac, it was just Kōzuki, Kururugi, and a grudge to settle.
Through the chicane of six seven, through the high speed kinks of ten eleven, and on approach to thirteen, Kallen was there, pushing, pushing, not allowing the red light at the base of Suzaku's chassis to get an inch further away from her eyeline. Suzaku was at his best, Kallen could tell; his exit of corners was otherworldly, wheelspin was nowhere to be found, and the car looking rock solid. However, Kallen felt, inside her, that she was at her best.
The red light ahead grew hypnotic. She would keep with it. She would not let it go. The car was already at the limits of its grip, squirming and sliding at the entry, apex, and exit, however Kallen pushed beyond, and as if by autopilot just handled the cars motions and sniffs. Gliding over the segments of track Suzaku avoided and forcing the car through the difficulty, Kallen felt as if she was pushing towards some limit, as the front tyres began to scrub up and swash, finding themselves simply unable to rotate her any faster. She could almost reach out and touch the light, pushing with all her might to keep close, before making a move again to the inside of the second to last corner.
Instead of turning in, Kallen held the wheel straight, boxing off Suzaku, only turning into the corner as she approached the outside boundaries of the circuit. With Suzaku trapped between this boundary and Kallen's sidepod, he could only begin to turn once Kallen had left the space, by which time she had already turned by some measure. As she rushed to the last corner, she was ahead.
However, she could not rest easily, as Suzaku was methodical in bringing the gap back down. Not two corners later, and he was filling up her mirrors, and with Suzaku, she knew he would not make a mistake; he would hang back, consistent and unflappable until he decided to make a move.
He finally struck into the chicane, sliding in a controlled manner up her inside and hogging the apex, trundling through the narrowest slice of track and undramatically returning to his position ahead of Kallen. The red light now returned to view, and like a bull, Kallen chased the matador.
And so they rotated, fighting for the lonely position about the anonymous circuit. The rain continued, and vision was abysmal, but neither driver cracked. They could not see their surroundings, and over the course of the fight did not encounter any other drivers. It may well have been just the two of them in the whole world. In fact, it was quite comforting to think about it in that way.
Suzaku would swing around the outside, holding on against all odds to the long way around to swoop past Kallen with a firm, stoic grasp of the wheel. Kallen would in turn give chase, provoking all four tyres and destabilising the car to push it beyond its designed capacity before slipping it into the narrowest gaps, pushing beyond all efforts to thread past. Suzaku would swing a clean left hook in the Queensbury tradition, to which Kallen would respond with a series of quick jabs, as they grappled for a corner, for a kerb, for an inch.
Positions were traded by the corner, as they struck, and swooped, in and out, back and forth, with each driver momentarily gaining an advantage. Kallen could feel the beginnings of a nosebleed as she physically forced the car, shuffling it along with a literal exertion to get just a few more kilometres per hour. She was as integral to the cars onward thrust as its engine or its tyres.
The laps ticked along, counting down into the crunch zone, however the two Japanese racers were inseparable, with Suzaku and Kallen both leaving nothing on the table. Neither could build a gap or disentangle themselves from the other by their own powers.
So, when they eventually did, it surprised them both. Out of nowhere, Suzaku's rear right tyre rapidly delaminated, breaking apart down its long central axis and breaching, forcing him to pit for new tyres, while Kallen, whose wet tyres were still manageable, could in theory reach the end of the race, whenever that was. It was a surprise splitting that clearly ruffled Suzaku, sending him swaying as he trundled back. Kallen, now alone, drove on.
While it was not quite as apocalyptically wet as it had been, there was even now, with Suzaku now a long ways back, a new threat; fog. The earlier moisture had now settled in the air, creating an impermeable mist that obscured almost everything but the small patch of track ahead.
More alone than ever, she could find nothing more proper than to go on, plunging deep into the grey. The corners lost context and meaning, creating an increasing worry as the race ticked along. Without any capacity to sight the road ahead, Kallen laterally grew concerned that someone could get into a really serious accident.
Indeed, it appeared this was a prescient concern. As she returned to the main straight, she observed in the white a man standing on the race track waving a red flag furiously, stepped out just off the racing line so that Kallen could see. With his vigor, Kallen was not wont to defy him, as she returned to the pits for the third time.
It was a long trip back to the pit lane, as Kallen tried to find the entryway, and let the car roll to a stop. Clambering out, Kallen ripped off her helmet and urgently panted across the pitlane, as the other drivers who had survived this long sporadically drove in. Spotting Ohgi stood out beside Lelouch's car, watching the Frenchman's engineers lift it, Kallen made for him and asked breathlessly from across the pits "Who was it?"
Ohgi confusedly replied "Eh?"
Taking a moment to catch her breath, Kallen elaborated, pointing to the circuit before asking "The red flag, who crashed? Are they alright?"
Ohgi's eyes narrowed in brief thought, before lightening up and answering "Ah, it was Dorothea Ernst. The Vanwall driver. She got beached at the chicane, according to what I've heard."
"Has anyone heard anything more substantive?"
With a shake of his head, Ohgi replied "We lost ground electricity a while ago, the tower and video feeds are dead. The cables probably got wet. We were able to carry on with timing boards, but the only people who saw were the marshals down at that bit of the track."
Kallen's eyes were cast down, before Ohgi noted "She's being brought back in the medical car, so you can ask her yourself."
Ohgi then nodded behind Kallen, who turned and saw the saloon pull in, and the dark skinned Briton stepped out, shaking her head. Eager to make sure she was alright, Kallen made her way across and waved to get her attention. In spite of not having finished, Dorothea was surprisingly amicable, and nodded to acknowledge the shorter woman, who was prompt in asking "Are you alright?"
"Yeah." Dorothea affirmed. "Just skidded onto the apex and the wheels lost contact with the road after the chassis mounted onto the highest point. No bother, I just got out. Was mighty pissed at the time mind you, but with a red flag I may be able to rejoin at the back. They had to get a tractor to retrieve the car, so they stopped the race."
She sniffed suddenly, before commenting "This is all assuming they decide to restart the race. It's going to be dark soon."
Taking a moment to join Dorothea in looking into the sky, Kallen, head leaned as far back as she could tilt it, mused "You know, given that you were within a few percentage of the end of the race, you'd still be classified in the finishers. Could be worth a few points."
Pausing, the Vanwall driver furrowed her brows, before asking "How many people finished?"
Kallen frowned, and realised "I don't… know…", turning as she finished the reply to look at the cars in the paddock, counting them aloud.
"Your car isn't here… I finished… Lelouch finished, Suzaku finished, who else… Tamaki, somehow… Zhou Xianglin… and that's it I think…"
Six people finished the race of twenty-odd starters. If you trundled to the finish dozens of laps behind, you were nonetheless guaranteed points if you simply kept it on track. That casualty rate was anomalous in modern open wheel racing, and both women stood amazed at the barren holdings. Curious, Kallen asked "So where were you when you went out? Would you have even dropped that many places?"
Dorothea was silent for a moment, before responding "You know, I'm not sure. I wasn't near anyone who I could reference, it could have been anywhere. I think I was ahead of you on the restart, but I spun at the back hairpin on the second lap, and a few cars went by. That could well have included you."
"Perhaps…" Kallen considered, uncertain as she tried to work out what may have happened, before a shout of "Choto!" came up behind her.
Turning, Kallen saw Suzaku waving at them, walking up to join their motley crew. As he arrived, without an ounce of sweat in stark comparison to Kallen, who was still catching her breath, he took a moment before moving to shake her hand, congratulating her with a nod of "Good fight. Couldn't shake you for love nor money. Damn tyre."
The three shared a laugh, before Suzaku asked "So where did you finish in the end?"
Kallen scratched her head, before shrugging, and answering "We held each other up a lot fighting wheel to wheel. There were a good few cars ahead of both of us at the restart, like Dorothea, that might have slipped through the tough conditions."
With the tower out of action, they were completely in the dark as to who was in what position. Kallen was ahead of Suzaku, and that was the sum of their knowledge. Dorothea could, in theory, have built out such a lead in front of Kallen that even after spinning she could have been in a net lead on countback.
In conjunction with the fate of the race itself, the drivers sat in quiet murmuring, trying to play Cluedo with the race results for just under an hour, before they were approached by a steward, who handed them two sheets of paper, before nodding and leaving. Curious, they all listened to Dorothea, who read out what the documents said.
"In light of conditions including but not limited to immense surface moisture and lack of sufficient track visibility, the 2018 Hungarian Grand Prix will not be resumed, and the provisional results will stand. Given that only fifty two laps were completed, half points will be rewarded for each points position. Results are enclosed."
Realising she had the results in her hands, a sly smile came to her face, as she paced the information in self-indulgent entertainment. After a moment spent licking her lips, she began.
"In sixth place, finishing four laps behind the leader, scoring their first points of the season… Shinichiro Tamaki!"
The group chuckled, though quietly acknowledging that it had indeed taken some atypical skill from the Japanese man to hold his car in control. After it subsided, Dorothea continued.
"In fifth place, finishing twenty six seconds behind the leader, the man who could have done so much more- Suzaku Kururugi!"
Nodding curtly, Suzaku recognised his mention, and did little else. He was visibly neutral, but Kallen expected that he was internally livid. In any case, the listing continued.
"Just missing the podium, is Zhou Xianglin, in fourth place! Just nineteen seconds behind, and yet completely out of view, for the top three."
A quiet race for a quiet driver. After allowing the brief murmuring to settle, Dorothea began to build up hype for the top three finishers, slowly doing a drum roll before quietly announcing "In third, we have the one, the only, the future world champion, Dorothea Ernst! Truly, a legendary drive, hampered by a momentary stroke of bad luck, it is undoubtedly-"
"Just get to the top two!" Kallen urged, shaking with eagerness. She couldn't contain her enthusiasm. The only other driver who it could be was Lelouch. If he was in second, that meant-
"And, in second place, in an excellent recovery…"
-that she would actually-
"Lelouch Lamperouge!"
-have won the goddamn Grand Prix!
She rushed forward and hugged Dorothea, shoving the paper out of the way in glee, before suddenly realising that she wanted to see it to prove her words true. As it flew through the air, she seized it before scanning it to confirm her hopes. They were confirmed, and Kallen resumed her embrace of Dorothea, as she jumped up and down in ecstasy.
There were many words that came to mind to shout out in that present moment. Some were swears, others were celebrations, a few would rub it into Suzaku's face, but she decided to save her shouting for someone who would appreciate it. Thanking Dorothea, Kallen ran, and ran, and ran into the depths of the paddock.
Naoto Kōzuki was now off crutches, and was well into his therapy. He would most often be found doing walking training on treadmills to build his legs back up these days, his enthusiasm for sport never having abated. He was similarly still as enthusiastic in supporting his sister as ever, even as he tooled up to potentially return to racing. Today was a rest day after he had gone to extremely tough therapy the day before, and what with the frequent red flags, he had elected to get some rest. Kallen knew he did not yet know the results, and she wanted to be the first to tell him. When she burst into the room, spotting the half awake idiot laid on his bed and grinning the biggest grin she could muster, she finally let out the buried holler heard around central Europe.
"FINALLLY!"
Hope ye had a good year. We're halfway through the story now, so that's good. Please be so kind as to leave a review. Cheers mates.
~Eth0