Initial D: Front Runners
A/N: Yay, I'm updating at a reasonable pace now! And here's the first epic race in...what feels like quite a while. ^_^ Hope you all enjoy!
ACT TWO
April 20, 1999:
Kenji tightened the final bolt holding the seat slider in place then set the ratchet down in the footwell near the clutch pedal. He stood up from his crouch, settled himself into the snug Bride seat, and tentatively slid it back and forth a few times, wiggling the seat base around at each extreme to test the solidity of the frame. Satisfied, he leaned out of the car and picked up the four verdant red straps of the Sabelt harness. Pulling aside the small flap of carpet he'd cut away, he threaded the two bolts he'd picked up through the holes in the harness and then through the matching two in the floor panel of the car. He reached around the underside and secured each bolt with a small nut before returning to the interior of the car and fitting the shoulder straps through the spaces in the top of the seat, finishing by clipping them into the factory seatbelt clips in the rear seat. He gave each strap a sharp tug and exited the car. Darren grinned behind him.
"How's it coming?"
Kenji spun and returned the smile, "Pretty well, I think. The interior's done, now all that's left to do is replace the front bumper, rebuild the engine and suspension, get some new rubber on it, get it repainted, and get it broken in.
Darren shook his head, "You really sure you haven't bitten off more than you can chew with this project?"
"Maybe I did, Darren. But I just wouldn't feel right racing something I didn't built and tune with my own hands."
"I can understand that, but I do hope you know you can't pull it all off on your own."
"Obviously; especially given how little experience I have touge racing, which is why I got in touch with your gaijin friend who lent you the truck we picked up the car with. Y'know he has really good Japanese, for a foreigner."
"Glad to know you feel that way. Speaking of him, he called and said that your next parts will be in soon and he'll have them sent here; should be about a week."
Kenji nodded in affirmation; things were progressing slowly, but they were still progressing.
June 30, 1999:
Kenji lifted the breather off of his face and gave his work a final check. Reasonably satisfied, he set down the paint sprayer and exited his makeshift paint booth, lifting the large plastic sheet aside. Before setting the sheet aside, he looked back in at the gleaming new aero front bumper. Not that the stock aero kit wasn't enough - it most certainly was - but the new front bumper was significantly less broken.
Bodywork - check, he thought with satisfaction, One more issue down...
He shrugged out of the plastic overalls that were now stained deep green from overspray and gave another adoring look back at his work in progress.
August 22, 1999:
Four polished high compression pistons - check. Four strengthened con-rods - check. Two high-lift cams - check. Turbine and blow-off valve - check. One polished OEM head - also check. One reworked engine - ready to be assembled.
Kenji cracked his knuckles and smiled down at the assortment of parts on the table before him.
Hours later, and the basic engine was back in one piece - still lacking any exhaust components, wiring, or any driveline beyond the flywheel and clutch, but recognizable as a complete unit once again. Kenji waved behind him, motioning Darren forward with a massive engine hoist. The two men looped a long section of chain around the engine, securing each end to a metal hook on the side of the engine block.
"Alright, let's take it up."
Darren nodded and began working the manual hydraulics of the hoist, lifting the bare engine several feet off the shop floor. The two maneuvered the heavy setup around to the front of Kenji's car, rotated the engine into the proper orientation, and began to slowly lower it into position, with Kenji guiding it onto the proper mounts and into alignment with the already-installed transmission bellhousing.
"Ok, Darren, hold it there," he looked back down at several of the attachment points for the engine, "and toss me a 10mm socket."
Kenji stepped back from the engine bay long enough to snatch the small piece of metal from the air and attach it to the wrench he had picked from its position on top of the fender. He pulled a series of small bolts from a plastic bag also sitting on the fender and began an initial hand tightening of them into the spaces that would eventually hold the engine and transmission together.
September 18, 1999:
This was it. Very nearly half a year's worth of work and today would be the culmination of all of it. Hopefully. Kenji took and deep breath and let it out. He leaned around the edge of the dash, poking his head through the open driver's door window.
"Well, here we go," he said, and Darren gave him a hopeful thumbs-up in return. Kenji depressed the clutch and turned the key. The engine coughed several times and whined as the starter motor turned over but nothing happened. Kenji let the key go slack in the ignition then tried again. Nothing. He again returned the key to the "off" position. A third try: this time the engine whined, coughed, then finally sputtered into life. Kenji watched as the idle rose toward 1,500RPM.
"Any leaks?" he called over the ragged sound of the engine.
Darren shook his head, "None yet, but there's a fair amount of air in the coolant lines - it'll take a few minutes for it all to bubble out."
Kenji nodded - that explained the high and slightly rough idle. However despite the amount of coolant splashed out from the top of the radiator by escaping air, the engine temperature remained safely in the middle of the gauge.
After a few minutes, coolant ceased splattering from the radiator and the idle dropped back to its normal settings. Kenji killed the engine and stepped out of the car as Darren shut the hood.
"Gotta say, Kenji, not bad. Not bad at all."
"Thanks; I really appreciate your help on this whole thing. Doubt I could have finished it on my own, in all honesty."
"Don't mention it. Just don't ask me to race you now that it's done."
Kenji laughed, "Fair enough."
December 02, 1999:
As Kenji pulled into the parking lot for the small shop in the mountains near Nikko, he was fairly certain that the past three weeks had been the longest of his life. But as of yesterday, his car had hit the mileage he had selected as sufficiently broken in for the engine, therefore it was time to head up here and get her dialed in. He soon found the shop's American owner in one of the maintenance bays, welding reinforcing brackets into the interior of an ECR32 Skyline. Kenji stopped his car, walked over, and rapped a knuckle against the wall. The man looked up from his sparking torch then flipped up his blacked-out face mask and smiled.
"Hi there. Can I he-" he paused when he saw the car parked outside, "Ohh, that's right, Darren's team leader. Tanaka-san, correct?"
Kenji nodded, "That's right, but please just call me Kenji."
"Alright then, Kenji. I'm Grant. The car looks great, by the way. Darren said you just finished a full frame-up rebuild."
"That's right."
"Not bad, not bad at all. So what is it I can do for you; you seem to have things pretty well handled by the looks of it."
"I'm not particularly experienced at touge racing yet. I'm here to find a setup I can work with."
"Now that I can help you with."
Three days later:
Kenji slowly edged his car onto the dynamometer, killed the engine, and flipped the headlight switch to the "off" position.
"How was that run?" Grant asked, looking at him over the screen of a laptop computer.
"The best yet; what did you change?"
"I lowered the rebound rate on the shocks a bit and stiffened up the rear sway bar. I also reset the torque split a little more rearward. Does it rotate too much in the corners?"
"It starts to slip a bit, but give it some gas and the front wheels catch it at just about the perfect time."
"That's what I like to hear," the American said, shutting the laptop and walking over to a peg board on the far wall of the garage.
"Tell you what," he said, "If you think you've got it set about how you want, how about a little shake-down run?"
Kenji smiled, "A race?"
"If you wanna call it that. Just a casual run - you, me, downhill on Iro. What do you say?"
"Why not. A little practice race will probably do me some good."
"That's the spirit! You go on ahead and wait for me at the gas station at the top of the mountain. I've got to re-adjust my tire pressure really quick, but I'll be along within a few minutes."
Kenji nodded and headed back to his car, then left the garage and turned course toward the downhill. Mere moments later he pulled into the parking lot of the small gas station. The station was small enough that it wasn't even open 24 hours. As such, it now sat empty and dark, the only illumination coming from the parking lot flood lights and the brilliant moon in the cloudless sky. Kenji stepped back for a moment to admire his finished work in the deep shadows behind his headlights. He had debated long and hard about what car to replace his beloved R32 with and time and again, this was what kept coming to the top. He had to admit, he hadn't been a big Mitsubishi fan, but this Lancer Evolution V had just been too good a deal to pass up on. And now he had absolutely no reason to regret his decision.
Or at least he hoped not. This race might change things.
Probably not, though, he thought. His Supra is the same model as Hajime's and should have the same problems on the touge that my Skyline would have. My Lancer was built for roads like this...I can take him.
At that moment a pair of headlights reflected off the glass of the gas station's windows, then off the paint of Kenji's EVO. A white JZX90 Chaser pulled in next to Kenji's Lancer, and in the street beyond, facing downhill, sat not the white Supra Kenji had been expecting, but rather his EVO's classic arch-rival, the Group A monster - a deep blue Ford Escort RS Cosworth.
Kenji shook his head and chuckled softly, "I should've guessed you wouldn't be bringing the Supra, but I never expected this."
"Yeah, it's not often I get to give this the type of drive it deserves. You ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
"Then line 'em up," Grant gestured to the Chaser, "Yumi-chan, count us off."
The slender woman nodded and ran out to stand beside the guard rail as Kenji lined up parallel to the Euro-Ford. Yumiko raised her left hand, holding up five fingers.
"Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"
"GO!"
She dropped her hand and Kenji dumped the clutch, launching the Mitsubishi forward with little drama but considerable force. He grabbed second gear, then third, then fourth as the two cars barreled down the first straight and through the quick right-left kink, noting the Lancer's shorter gearing compared to his old Nissan as he did so. Thus far, the two rival rally machines remained fairly even, however Kenji assumed the American was holding back slightly, since he estimated there was a power discrepancy of about 30 horsepower between his EVO and the Ford.
Fine, if he wants a cornering battle, I'll give it to him.
The pair approached the first corner, which was also one of, if not the most, difficult of the course. Kenji bounced the gear lever down through third into second as the engine screamed in protest, bouncing off the rev-limiter. He kept the clutch held in and grabbed the handbrake which threw the car violently sideways and scrubbed off signifcantly more speed, but also served to block nearly 90% of the narrow road, denying the blue Cosworth any chance to pass. Kenji floored the gas and resisted his instinct to countersteer, instead letting the EVO's computer do all the work of stabilizing the car.
He powered out of the turn, straightened the wheel slightly, and took off down the ensuing straight with the Ford still in hot pursuit. Kenji had just made it back up to fourth gear when he dropped back down to third and dove hard on the brakes. The slight rear bias on the braking force allowed the rear of the car to rotate a few degrees before the downforce from the massive rear wing planted it again. Those few instants of slip, though, were all Kenji needed to get the Mitsubishi's nose pointed squarely at the corner exit and get him in a position where he could fiercely reapply the power and rocket out of the corner.
It really is amazing, he thought as he wove the car through a series of shallow bends, this car almost feels like it could drive itself...
He checked his mirrors and saw that the Ford had not yet lost any ground to him. The American was a good driver - if nothing else, Kenji had to give him that. Coming into the next corner, the first of a series of descending switchback hairpins, Kenji again braked hard and lined up alongside the mountain itself, setting up for the sharp right. To his surprise the Ford flashed past him on the right in the short kink before the actual hairpin right. Coming out of the kink, Grant let the car begin to rotate left, then the brake lights flashed and the blue Escort snapped back to the right, smoke billowing from all four wheels as he drifted through the bend, a display of precision and power rather than grace and elegance.
Coming out of the bend himself, Kenji now found himself trailing the Ford by a good twenty meters or so. Seeing that they were coming onto one of the relatively long straights on the Irohazaka downhill, Kenji hit a small toggle switch mounted next to the air-conditioning panel. This was something he had kept a secret from everyone as he built the engine - his secret weapon. At the flick of the switch, a surge of new programming flooded through his turbo's electronic boost controller and a series of secondary settings activated, spiking the boost PSi provided by the engine's turbine. Kenji shifted back up to fourth gear and found himself riding a bow wave of torque as his boost scramble kicked in. This move brought him back up on the Ford's rear bumper and he de-activated the scrambler as the two entered the next hairpin, a slightly gentler left this time.
Grant drifted the Ford yet again, using the same tactic Kenji had applied in the first corner to block off most of the road, leaving Kenji forced to slam on the brakes to keep from hitting an opponent who was cornering somewhat slower yet leaving no opportunity to slip past. The same sequence was repeated through the next succession of five turns; right-left-right-left-right. The green road sign before the next left was one of Kenji's landmarks, it signaled that this lext corner was one of the gentler in the course - more specifically, it was an increasing radius corner; it started sharp, then gradually lessened out as it progressed. Grant again used the handbrake to break traction in the rear and slide the Cosworth along the standard outside-inside-outside racing line. Kenji meanwhile braked early then stuck his front bumper very nearly to the inner guard rail, moving forward while the Escort slid a few meters farther to the right. This left Kenji with both the inside line exiting the corner and a slightly higher exit speed. He flipped the scramble boost switch yet again, just for some extra insurance, but it was almost unnecessary as he pulled back in front of the EVO's old nemesis.
Kenji managed to hold onto his lead, despite struggling through a few tense sections, for the remaining entirety of the course. Shortly thereafter, the two drivers regrouped at the summit gas station. Grant got out of the Ford and raked a hand through sweat-slicked hair.
"Well, that was sure fun."
Kenji smiled, also glad to be out in the chilly night air, "Yes it was. Iro is quite a course."
"Tell me about it. Hey, nice trick there with the boost scramble. I thought I might have had you on that first straight there."
Laughing, Kenji replied, "I may not have too much power, but I've planned for eventualities where I may need a little extra 'boost.'"
The brown-haired American rolled his eyes at Kenji's pun, "The car notwithstanding, you've got some pretty good skills and instincts for someone new to the touge."
"New to the touge," Kenji pointed out, "Not new to racing."
"Ah, fair enough. Hey, listen, you think you'll still be around tomorrow?"
Kenji arched an eyebrow, "Well the be honest, I had kind of figured on going back to Tokyo. Darren and a few others are expecting me back."
"I imagine they'll be here."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said. You remember that all-AE86 team?"
Kenji thought back to the race versus the S15-faced 180SX months ago at the Tokyo seaside, "Yeah, but I haven't really been in touch with recent street standings since I started this project."
"That's certainly understandable. Let me get you caught up: a few weeks after they finish off the Tokyo teams, they move north into Saitama, clean up the teams there, and then head into Gunma. First race in Gunma they blitz the course record on Mt. Myogi, but before they even have a chance to set up a second challenge, out comes Ryosuke Takahashi -"
"The White Comet?" Despite being from a slightly earlier era of racers than the famous son of Gunma, Kenji was all too familiar with the legend of the white FC3S.
"The same. Anyway, he comes out and says that he'll take the 86's challenge, but asks for three weeks to prepare. They agree and decide to move on for the time being."
"All well and good," Kenji said, "but what does that have to do with my group from Tokyo being in Nikko tomorrow?"
"The 86s are moving due north, I've heard they want to hit Hokkaido then come back to finish off Takahashi in Gunma. On their way to up to Aomori, they'll be stopping here. We've got a little coalition of teams getting set up here to try and stop them."
"Really?"
"That's right. Four of us, including yours truly, versus four of them. We may lose, but hopefully we won't lose all of them."
"Interesting...so I assume word of this showdown has gotten around and the galleries will be pretty full."
"Exactly, and knowing Darren, I can't believe he would miss seeing something like this."
In the cockpit of his NSX, Darren Rochteaux suddenly sneezed rather violently. He shook his head to try and clear it. Maybe all this time overseas was finally starting to get to him. Oh well, soon he would be at the onsen where he and Gotou would be spending the night before heading to the race at Irohazaka tomorrow. It was sure convenient to have a massive race meet so close to one of Japan's best hot-spring areas, especially with regard to people coming from different prefectures.
As Darren pulled into the ryokan's parking lot with Gotou's rolling wreck close behind him, it seemed from the makeup of the cars parked there that many other racers felt the same way. He laughed at seeing a pair of cars with matching team stickers parked next to each other. They had matching vanity plates, with the car from Kagoshima Prefecture bearing the English characters "SAT" and the one from Yamaguchi Prefecture reading "CHO."
Never thought I'd see a joke about Japanese history on a vanity plate...Darren thought. Then he saw something he recognized - the dark red SW20 MR2 that seemed to follow him, Gotou, and Kenji everywhere they went.
Or maybe we're following it, he thought with another laugh to himself. Oh well, at least there would be someone here he would know. Someone not Gotou. Darren pulled in and parked next to the mid-engined Toyota just in time to see its owner exit the front doors to the ryokan with a short young man in tow. Where he was almost bubbling over with exuberance, she looked none too happy with the arrangement.
Darren exited the Honda and locked the door behind him, watching from the corner of his eye as Gotou attempted to use zip ties to re-affix his loose radiator. Given that the engine was still hot, and the sound of his cursing, it wasn't going well. Trying to ignore the angry man and his dying S14, Darren walked over to the Asian woman's car, waiting for her and her clinging follower. He saw the girl visibly brighten when she saw him.
"Darren-san!" Oh thank you God I'm saved, Akima thought. She turned to look at Yoh apologetically, "I'm really sorry, but I need to catch up to him real quick, excuse me."
She came toward Darren at something slightly less than a sprint, leaving her rather bewildered charge wandering off toward Gotou and his rather loud issues. As she approached Darren she looped an arm conspiratorially around his shoulder and her voice dropped into both a low whisper and into English.
"Hi, um... just walk along and talk with me for a few minutes... I'll owe you one, just please help me out here."
Darren recovered quickly from his initial shock of hearing her speak his native tongue, "Help you out? With what exactly?"
Akima gave a small, nearly imperceptible flick of her head toward her follower who was now rather engrossed with Gotou's "work."
"That would be my neighbor, Yoh. I made the mistake of showing him my car one day and now he insists on following me to any sort of automotive event - and I mean anything from an actual race to going to Autobacs to buy a new oil filter."
"Ouch..."
"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, he's very nice, but..."
"No, no, I get it. But what do you want me to do?"
"I just need to get away for a little while. There's got to be something you can do to help me. Tell him we're going to a love hotel or something - anything!"
Darren stifled a laugh, "Well I'd be glad to help you, but it looks like we're both off the hook tonight," he pointed over to where Gotou was now instructing the young man in the proper technique of using zip ties. Darren was not particularly surprised, actually. Yoh seemed to be someone who'd believe almost anything he was told, especially from a racer, and Gotou was all too happy to talk. They were a match made in Heaven.
Or Hell, from the view of us two, Darren thought, looking over his shoulder at Akima.
Oh well, at least there's racing tomorrow.
END
The players are now all in position for an epic showdown on Irohazaka! Will the driver's coalition be able to defeat Hachi Shokku? Will Akima successfully ditch Yoh? Will Gotou ever get his car working correctly? Some of these answers and more next time! Don't Miss It!