I remember vividly the day I met with Natsuki for the last time. My face was red with realisation that we wouldn't be together for a very long time after, and my eyes moist with silent tears. Reassuring and ambient, my car's engine rumbled whilst we waited at the red lights. Tired and full of melancholy, I glanced furtively to my left. Half of her face was covered by soft, deep black hair, which wavered gently in the seaside breeze. Perfectly framed in the sunrise of the coast and the lighthouse, she sighed quietly and rubbed her hazel eyes.

The lights turned green. I shifted into gear. Down memory lane we drove, through the familiar line of cherry blossoms and the little shops that buzzed as the morning went on; we passed the street sign and the streetlights, still on, flashed past. So familiar. Stopping the car, I parked outside the train station, but we did not get out yet.

From the side of my vision, I pictured her lifting her head slowly and her hair sliding back to reveal her full beauty. I heard her shaky chuckle and the reluctant unfastening of her seatbelt. At last, I screwed up the courage to look her in the eyes and found her eyes full of sadness. Smiling less now and speechless, she leaned cautiously towards me. It must have been minutes, hours. I stared longingly at her, but a face that had seen horrors and pain gazed back. I slid my eyelids shut. I felt her breath near to mine, faltering and weak. I felt her lips on mine, trembling, warm and holding on for support. One last time.

Next thing I recall was her walking towards the entrance. She spun around. Behind her, the train station's walls were modern and a clean white, but they blocked the light from the sun, as if swallowing her up and taking her away. I nodded gently at her, and gradually, salty water started to roll down my face, unstoppable, overwhelming. More and more arrived and I wept, crying in pain and anguish. She ran into the station, with a slight pause, and I watched her hair swing and disappear from my view. Dejected, I stumbled back to my car, drunk with emotions.

(***)

My mind forced me back to the present. Panting heavily from the stuffiness, I gripped my steering wheel with sweaty gloves and leaned forwards to peer at the race lights hanging above. Muffled, the crowd shouted on and cheered on, either side of me, and the other cars throttled their engines aggressively; the commentators announced our names, one by one. The blood in my veins rushed and I felt a powerful gratitude and confidence. Beeping, the red lights flashed on one by one.

Three.

Two.

One.

The lights turned green. I shifted into gear, slamming on the pedals. Abruptly, I was pressed back into my seat from the G forces, but I knew for certain that I was accelerating down the start line. Feeling dust and debris clattering and smelling rubber, my determination tightened. I passed two cars, though I still had four ahead to defeat. Closer and nearer, I edged towards the white Nissan in front of me. The first corner was up ahead, and it sped up, supposedly from panic, widening the gap between us – it was going too fast. Screeching and clanging echoed as it oversteered and ended up crumpled on the guardrails. It was my turn; I eased my foot off the gas and rapidly transferred down to second gear. I activated my brakes and swivelled my wheels to the left, entering the drift, and rotated them towards the right to correct myself.

I exited the corner and blasted on the gas once again, passing another car: a Lancer Evo that had trouble with its counter steer. Unfazed, I moved my car away from its unsteady path and rocketed towards the next bend. My 1.3 litre engine whirred and as if coordinated with my body, my adrenaline shot throughout my figure, filled with gusto, and I entered the second bend. I wasn't as familiar with this track as my home turf, Akina Mountain, but I managed to pull myself, with some effort, out of the narrow path. A crash boomed inches behind my Toyota…the sound of the Lancer Evo's downfall. Four-wheel drives do not fare well on these roads.

In third position, I tensed my jaw. The Benz on my side was parallel to me and he found an opportunity. My car rattled as he rammed up against me and for a second my line quavered. However, it would take more than this to put me off. I gritted my jaw in anger and braked; the dirty player was not anticipating this and continued to swerve towards where I was a moment earlier. With a poker face, I watched, like in slow motion, the wheels wobble and the left side of his car deform. Hot metal shards and a smell of burning whizzed past.

Now it was me against the Mazda. She was fast but cleared corners inefficiently. Due to this, I was able to gradually close the gap between us, until the grille of my car and the bumper on the back of No. 1 were almost brushing together. The last turn arrived. To stop my overtaking, her drift barricaded the outside line, where I tried to go one moment earlier. Little did she know that I had a classic trick up my sleeve. To defeat centrifugal force, I swiftly latched my tires into the ditch on the side of the track. It seemed for a moment that she was still ahead.

Now, I thought.

This corner decided the race. I floored the gas pedal and my car skimmed past, barely touching the Mazda's headlights. I lead, as first place, through the finish line.

Roaring with joy, the crowd waved manically, and I allowed myself a little smile. I stopped the car and kissed the steering wheel, before throwing the door open and running out, gulping in the fresh evening air. The thunderously bright stadium lights poured over me, welcoming my return; the spectators were thunderous in volume too. Music resounded from the speakers whilst the commentary announced the rankings. I gladly embraced my car and suddenly I was sobbing from my all the thoughts going through my head. It was almost dark, but there were certainly lights. However, one light shone the brightest. Her!

I recall the moment I caught her in my arms. A flurry of joy and butterflies in my stomach, laughing and jumping about and cheering.

My heart leapt and her forest of hair flew around as I spun her. In all the excitement, the most memorable thing about that day was a lot of good racing, celebrating and her face. Her beautiful, beautiful face.

I felt alive again.