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> [FANFIC] Boxer Battle!, Initial Wangan!
thx712517
  Posted: Nov 20 2007, 07:54 PM


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Joined: Apr 3rd 2007
Location: Georgia





Keisuke drove down Mt. Akagi in the Starlet, one hand on the wheel and the other on the shifter as he made his descent. The g-forces that pulled against his body, weak as they were, reminded him of the many descents he had made, the ever-increasing speeds he had made them at.
“Too much emotional crap,” he said again, feeling slightly jealous over Ryosuke's concern for Yoshiro. With his foot to the floor, Keisuke drifted the Starlet around another corner, sitting up in his seat and beginning to feel his blood rise. Sliding sideways through the turn, Keisuke's eyebrows shot up as the front end lightened and the steering wheel lost all of its weight. The front tires were screaming sideways. Desperately pumping the throttle he managed to transfer enough weight to hook the front tires again, tapping the brakes to finish the slide.

“Amateur,” Asakura said, holding back on the throttle. Tired with Hakone's curves, Akio had made the trek to Gunma prefecture and was slowly learning the various mountains as best he could, hoping to improve his control of the powerful Devil Z. With a slow red Toyota in his way, there would be no record downhill run this time. Akio took his foot completely off the throttle and let the Z's monster motor wind down, giving the Starlet more space. The red hatchback rushed down the mountain as quickly as it could, its faded paint shining in the light of the moon overhead. Akio kept himself just far enough behind to watch without pressuring the driver, then, at the bottom of the mountain, he turned left as the Starlet turned right.

Keisuke looked over his shoulder for a moment, wondering at the old blue Datsun that took off at an incredible pace before bringing his mind back to the present.
“Slow progress with Kyoko, brother's back with his buddy Yoshiro. My FD is waiting for me to drive it, but I don't want to.” He shook his head, driving past the deserted garage. The yellow FD could be seen through the clean windows, waiting. With another heavy sigh Keisuke pushed the Starlet into first and made his gradual way home, turning things over in his mind. Parking out front, he patted the Starlet on the hood before walking inside and climbing the stairs to his room. Passing by his brother's room, Keisuke felt a twinge of annoyance that the room was dark and empty. His brother was probably still out celebrating. When Fumihiro, Yoshiro, and his brother had gotten together in the early days they had stayed out at all hours of the night.

Keisuke opened the door to his room, cleaned his teeth, washed his face, and then flopped down on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
“Why don't I like driving my FD more? I used to drool over the idea of getting behind the wheel. Now I hate it. Well,” he said, turning on his side, “I don't hate it. I'm just tired of driving it. It used to be fun when it was by myself, but now that I'm racing all the time, it's a job. The Starlet's fun because it's so easy to overwhelm, but I can't stand driving just that car, it's too damn slow.” With a sulk, he closed his eyes. With thoughts of the Starlet, FD, and Kyoko floating in his mind, he drifted off to sleep.

A sudden bang from the other room snapped him awake. Keisuke sat up in the bed and stared at his clock. An hour's sleep, and the bang had come from his brother's room. Padding over quietly in his bare feet, he looked in the open door at his brother sitting cross-legged on the floor, laptop balanced on his knees.
“Bro? Everything cool?” he asked. Ryosuke looked up and smiled.
“Fine. Going racing with Yoshiro next week after we fix his car. No challenges on the website, so consider it a sabbatical. I know you're sick of driving. Give yourself a rest.” Keisuke watched with narrowed eyes as his brother weaved slightly, walking with a small amount of difficulty over to his bed. If not drunk, he was at least mildly inebriated. For such an uptight person like Ryosuke, it was a shock to see him so jubilant.
“Isn't it nice to have a huge weight lifted off your shoulders?” Ryosuke asked before flopping down on his bed and passing out. Keisuke shut the door and returned to his room, shaking his head.

*

Fujiwara smiled to himself, supremely happy he was once more installed in the AE86's seat. His father had relented to his endless pestering, and was once more allowing him to cycle between the 86 and the Impreza for his deliveries. Diving toward the corner, Takumi felt his internal clock clicking. In perfect harmony he hit the brakes, downshifting into third and second while blipping the throttle to rev-match, letting the clutch out again and going full throttle as he turned the steering wheel into the corner. The car's balance changed, the body rotating farther than the wheels had pointed it. The rear wheels were slipping, and with practiced smoothness he countersteered just enough into the turn to stabilize the car, balancing the steering with infinite care of the throttle. The hachi-roku followed his line perfectly, the perfect expression of his driving talent.

The short straight gave him a chance to wind out the motor up into fourth gear, bouncing off the 12,000 RPM limit, its full 270 HP thrusting the car forward with the unmistakable sound of individual throttle bodies and high compression pistons. Each gear was its own unique rush, accompanied by the perfect soundtrack of the motor. The tofu sloshed a bit in the back, reminding him to slow down. At the hotel he unloaded quickly and returned to the hachi-roku, taking off with his usual eagerness. The Corolla wagged its tail side to side as the tires fought for traction, the limited slip differential channeling torque to whatever wheel could hold it.

“Time to have fun,” Takumi said, pushing his foot to the floor and ripping through the gears, and, freed from having to hold back, he rushed headlong into the downhill, the warning chime's voice drowned out by the roar of the engine and the scream of the tires. A pair of headlights appeared in his rearview mirror, suddenly popping into sight with a violence and speed that reminded him of the Impreza, or Keisuke's FD.
“See if you can keep up,” Takumi growled, pushing harder. The hachi-roku flew through the corner, a four wheel drift with minimal countersteer that he held through a short straight before sliding through another corner. The headlights in the rearview mirror grew smaller and smaller until the next short straight, when they grew large in the blink of an eye. Takumi spared a glance to look at his opponent.

“Huh?” he said, shaking off the urge to scratch his head. A long blue hood framed by two yellowed headlights that cast off their dim beams, the gleam of mirrors mounted on fenders, and a form behind the wheel.
“I don't recognize it,” Takumi said, “but he's good, whoever he is. Let's see if he can keep up with my hachi-roku.” Diving into another turn, Takumi used his father's line, picking up a staggering amount of speed and running out of sight of the blue mystery car. The next straight revealed it again, brake rotors glowing red.
“Massive power on the straight, slower in the corners,” he said, making a snap analysis of the situation. The long easy portion of Akina was gone now, and the tight corners with the infrequent straights made it hard to catch a glimpse of his opponent, if that's what he was. Takumi blushed, remembering the innocent bystanders he had mistaken for opponents in the past.

Takumi drove home and put the car away, wiping down the back from where the tofu's water had slopped out. Bunta watched him through the window and chuckled.
“He's gotten used to the Impreza now. Driving the hachi-roku takes effort. Good.”
Takumi came inside and was halfway up the stairs before he stopped and came back down.
“Hey dad,” he asked.
“Eh?” Bunta replied, letting his paper flop over far enough for him to make eye contact with his son standing on the edge of the stairs, a nervous look on his face.
“I saw a new car tonight, on Mt. Akina. I don't know what kind it was. It had a long hood, and mirrors on the fenders,” Takumi said.
“That could be any old car,” Bunta replied, snapping his paper to make it stand up and returning to his reading. Without letting the paper drop, he asked one question.
“Did it have an open mouth with a wide steel bar across it?” he asked.
“I think so,” Takumi replied.
“That would probably be a Fairlady Z. I used to race against those when I was younger,” Bunta said, setting down his cigarette and picking up his cup.

“Are they good?”
“They're not bad. Some can be quite powerful. There was one I used to know that was very impressive in a straight line, but its cornering needed improving. Kind of the opposite of the hachi-roku. Go to sleep, you've got work in a few hours,” Bunta grunted, returning his full concentration to the paper. Takumi trudged upstairs and fell into his bed with a grateful sigh. Sleep was so rare to come by when Project D was out on the road, it was nice to have a brief rest and soak up all the sleep he could. The soft bed was a welcome change from the firm bucket seat of the hachi-roku, his usual place of rest when out on a challenge. Snuggling under the covers against the cold autumn air, Takumi sighed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

*

Keisuke woke up with a start, his perfect sleep shattered by the roar of his brother's Spirit R.
“Damn idiot,” he grumbled, grabbing his pillow and jamming it over his ears as the rotary engine bellowed and snorted, warming up in the driveway. With a final deliberate scream of power, the Spirit R shot out of the driveway and down the street, its exhaust rattling the windshield as it left. Keisuke stared at the clock, felt a wave of desperation wash over him at the early hour, then grudgingly got up. An hour later, washed and fed, he was in the same position as his brother, key in the ignition, deliberating whether or not to start his engine.

He started up the massive one liter engine, shaking with fury, and drove off toward the garage. Today was going to be a good day.
“It's going to be a good day,” he yawned. “Woken up by my brother twice, my peace shattered, breakfast stolen out from under me. I'll fix this day,” he said, stopping outside the garage. Fumihiro glanced up from his work, eyes red from lack of sleep, and opened the door.
“What's up, Keisuke?” he asked softly.
“How big was your party last night?” Keisuke asked curiously before turning to his primary objective, the gleaming yellow FD. Sliding behind the seat and firing it up, he noticed Fumihiro wince slightly before walking off.

“If my tea-sipping brother and stick in the mud Fumihiro are this bad off, I wonder how this Yoshiro fellow is,” Keisuke said to himself, letting the FD idle until it was warm enough to be driven hard. Tearing out of the shop he blasted along the surface streets until he hit the highway, hoping to make it in time. Glancing at his watch he pushed his foot down harder, privately cursing himself for taking so long in waking up and making his mind. With a breath of relief, he pulled into the lot, parked his car, and made a mad dash for the race track. A large banner proclaimed the special attraction, a small gathering of American performance cars. After the last serious race was finished, the Americans were rolled out onto the track and fired up.

“Oh wow,” Keisuke murmured as the sound hit him. Deep gut-thumping bass from massive piston engines filled the air as the small field of roughly ten cars took off for a quick series of laps. Nimble coupes fought it out with larger fastbacks, slicing and dicing on the field in an absurdly cautious yet brutal manner. Bulls in ballerina shoes, it seemed like. At least Yoshiro had been good for something. If it wasn't for Daichi's presence, he wouldn't have made an effort to come check out the show.

Walking back to his FD, Keisuke noticed one of the cars being loaded up into a trailer and walked by to take a closer look. The fellow loading the car was American as well, so he stopped to speak, hoping the man would understand Japanese.
“What kind of car is this?” he asked, pointing a finger at the coupe.
“1967 Chevy Camaro Z28,” came the reply.
“May I look under the hood?” he asked. The man leaned inside the car and popped the hood, then walked in front to open it. Keisuke looked down at a bizarre tangle of wiring and a dual carburetor setup. The man walked around and looked down at the engine with him, then his eye caught Keisuke's car key and the sight of the yellow FD not too far away.

“Racer?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Keisuke replied. “Sort of. On the street.”
“You like this car, powerful. Not precise,” came the answer. The man slid inside and put the key in the ignition, firing up the 302 cubic inch V8.
“Three inch stroke, four inch bore, V8. Five liters, designed for racing class. Bigger engines available, but this is nice. Rated for two hundred ninety horsepower, makes four hundred. Seven thousand revolution per minute redline,” the man said helpfully, hopping out of the car and ushering Keisuke inside. The young man sat down in the low-back bucket seat, mildly uncomfortable, but his distress melted away at the sound and feel of the big V8's idle. It was a deep throaty creamy woofle type of noise, a lub lub lub with what sounded like an occasional skip, no doubt caused by a massive camshaft.
“You drive?” the man asked.
“No, I couldn't drive this car,” Keisuke replied.
“I sit passenger, you drive, go around block. Needs gas,” he added as an excuse for the errand. Aware that the car was rare, Keisuke buckled up and took the four speed stick's shifter in his hand. The heavy clutch and left hand drive were unusual to say the least, but fun in their difference from the norm.

“Only 602 made this year. Very rare, very choice. You like?” he asked. Keisuke frowned, unable to discern what it was he was feeling. The steering was heavy and slow at low speeds, light and quick at higher speeds. The car tracked well enough but rolled heavily in the corners, its tires squealing and screeching.
“Go ahead, open up throttle. Big power,” the man said in broken Japanese. It was obvious the conversation was straining his speaking abilities, and from his dress and general appearance he hadn't been in the country for very long at all. Keisuke, worried about the damage he might do to such a rare car, bit the tip of his tongue and forced his foot down. The massive engine bellowed with power, thrusting the car forward in an insane rush of torque that pinned him back in the seat.
“Don't be chicken, push harder,” the man said, laughing. Keisuke looked down at his foot, shocked that he hadn't come close to opening the throttle one hundred percent. As another straight opened up, after a quick glance for the police, Keisuke gulped and pushed his foot completely to the floor. The five liter V8 under the hood exploded with sound and fury, sending the rear tires up in smoke and waggling the car's butt side to side as they scrabbled for traction. Keisuke felt his heart stop when the tires got their grip and rocketed the car forward, crushing the air out of his lungs. At the end of the acceleration run he pushed down on the brakes, his eyebrows shooting upwards at the slow response.

“Disc front, drum rear,” the man replied as the Camaro slowed down gradually. Keisuke stopped the car at the gas station and sat behind the wheel, his hands shaking as the man filled it up.
“Brute power, but no brakes. Acceleration, but no handling. Front heavy torque monster,” he murmured, looking at the guages as he sat there. For an old car, it was definitely impressive.
“I can see what the fuss is about. With a little more attention, I'm sure this would be a formidable machine. Even my FD doesn't make this much torque,” he said, running a hand over the dash. His fingers caught against a small plate and he brushed it off, looking at it curiously.
“Kitami Jun,” he read, frowning. Was it the car's name? The black Camaro with its broad silver stripes was imposing, but it didn't look like a Jun. The man hopped back inside and pointed toward the direction of the trailer.
“Go back now,” he said, then saw where Keisuke had been looking.
“Is man who made engine,” he said reverently. Keisuke felt confused. Who was Kitami Jun and why had he tuned an American car from the late 60s? They drove back into the paddock and Keisuke helped the man pull the car up onto its trailer. After a final wave, he headed back to his FD, hands in pockets.

American cars were interesting.

*

Ryosuke rubbed his eyes, clipboard in hand, as the doctor was speaking.
“The patient complained of pain centralized in the abdomen, which then shifted over time to focus on the right iliac fossa. At this point the patient suffered a loss in appetite and a low fever, with occasional vomiting. Would anyone care to diagnose this patient's issue?” Ryosuke held up his hand, and the doctor, a young man roughly his own age, nodded to him.
“I would palpate the abdomen to see if there was any sign of tenderness, with particular attention to the McBurney's Point. If there was any tenderness or rigidity of the abdomen I would suspect appendicitis, with immediate surgery required if there was any rigidity, which would suggest the appendix has already ruptured and there's a risk for peritonitis,” Ryosuke answered. The doctor nodded with a faint smile before continuing with the other interns.

Eight hours later, Ryosuke was resting outside, leaning against the Spirit R with his hands jammed in his pockets. The sound of an opening door made him look up, catching sight of the young doctor leaving the building, making a slow path toward a black Porsche resting not too far away. The man stopped in his tracks and made his way over.
“Takahashi, right?” he asked.
“Yes, doctor...”
“Shima. Shima Tatsuya.”
“Is that your car?” Ryosuke asked, pointing at the black Porsche.
“Yes. Is this yours?” he replied, looking at the white Spirit R.
“Yes,” Ryosuke answered. The two looked at each other for a moment, sizing each other up, silently noting the appearance of their respective cars. Tatsuya was the first to move, nodding his head quickly and walking off to his Porsche. Ryosuke opened his door, slid inside, and fired up the 20B-REW. After it had warmed up and was idling smoothly he pulled out of the lot, headed for the expressway to take him home. Once on the Shuto line, Ryosuke tuned his mind out and began to relax, feeling the anxiety of the day melt away. It wasn't the fastest way to go home, but it did give him a chance to blow off steam from the day.

A set of headlights grew large in his rearview mirror. With a quick glance, Ryosuke pushed his foot down farther, but was surprised when the lights grew larger. The Spirit R was hurtling along at incredible speed, but the headlights kept growing until they were large in the rearview mirror, the pressure pounding against the back of his neck.
“What?” It was the Porsche!
“Tatsuya,” he said in shock, shifting into fifth gear. The two shot along, speedometers creeping steadily toward three hundred kilometers per hour. The Spirit R finally stopped accelerating, stuck at 285 KPH thanks to its rear gear ratio.
“The price of good acceleration on the downhill,” Ryosuke said philosophically, watching as the black Porsche swept past him effortlessly.

Pulling into the driveway at home, Ryosuke let the engine idle for a few minutes to cool down and for his mind to finish composing itself. The rush of speed on the Shuto line and the g-forces of Akagi had done its job to wipe away the worries of the day. Sighing happily, he walked inside and sat down in front of his laptop, firing it up. After filing away the notes he had taken during the day in his newly-created medical file, he minimized his work programs and opened up his simulator. Tapping in the information he had observed from the Porsche, he began to work backwards, trying to recreate the car and discover its abilities through the simulator.

“What are you working on?” Keisuke asked, leaning in the open door.
“Something strange I saw this afternoon. It turns out that one of the doctors I'll be working with has a Porsche 930 or 964, and he runs it on the Shuto line. It was fast, too. Passed me by at 285 KPH like it was nothing, headed for 300 KPH or better.”
“Black, right?” Keisuke asked. Ryosuke pushed away from his laptop and swiveled his chair to look at his younger brother, leaning nonchalantly in the doorway.
“How do you know that?” Ryosuke asked slowly.
“When I was in my gang we spent a lot of time in Tokyo. When you talk about a Porsche on the Shuto line, you're talking about only one person. I never found out a lot about him, but they call the car Blackbird. He was fast three years ago, and it sounds like he's faster now if he can beat that monster of yours,” Keisuke said.
“It wasn't his power that beat me,” Ryosuke replied. “I tuned my car for running the mountain passes, not top speed runs. If I spent some time tuning it for top speed, I'm sure I could manage my own. Do you know anything else?”
“Not much. They call it the Wangan. Just like us here, they'll race from midnight to four in the morning before going home. Usually a long distance high speed run, without a lot of turning. Power makes you the winner. Your friend Yoshiro would do well there, I think,” Keisuke replied with a slightly sour tone in his voice.

“Thank you, Keisuke. I'll have to do some more research on this. It may sound odd coming from me, but there are times when I'm tired of the mountain passes. I'd like the chance to race on a new battlefield, against fresh opponents. Wouldn't you?” he asked, directing his piercing eyes at his brother. Keisuke flinched slightly, realizing that his unspoken thoughts were completely understood. As he walked to his room, Keisuke stopped, turned around, and stuck his head in his brother's room.
“Do you know anyone named Kitami Jun?” he asked. Ryosuke flinched like he'd been shot, his back frozen completely. Keisuke stepped into the room and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.
“Aniki?” he said, shaking him slightly. Ryosuke was staring at his computer screen, his eyes unfocused as his mind flashed back to the moment in Hayato's workshop and the AE86's piston. Inscribed on the inside of the piston was a tiny logo, a logo that was also on the connecting rods. It had taken him quite some time to hunt it down, and when he had, the results had startled him.

“No,” he said quietly. “I need some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow,” Ryosuke said. Keisuke left the room, shutting the door behind him, and wondered.

*

Takumi flopped down in the Impreza, tired and sore. It had been a long night practicing, a short nap, and then the delivery had been twice as large as usual because of the coming holidays. Driving back down Mt. Akina he wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. Yawning, he slowed down for the coming turn, too tired to drift through. Putting his eyes back on the road he caught the yellowed gleam of headlights in his rearview mirror, the same headlights of the blue coupe that had chased him in the hachi-roku.
“I don't want to play,” Takumi said, letting his foot off the throttle. The headlights slowed down as well, unwilling to pass. Grumbling, he shook his head.
“Fine, if you want it that way, let's make it that way,” he growled, shaking his head again to wake up. Feeling sufficiently alert, he downshifted and floored the throttle, the Impreza lunging ahead with a vengeance. The headlights in the mirror waggled sideways then shot forward until the blue coupe was on the Impreza's bumper.

“Big opening in the front, steel bar across the middle, mirrors on the fenders. I guess that's it,” Takumi said, remembering his father's words. To confirm, he swung the car wide and slammed on the brakes, the mystery coupe shooting ahead. Takumi got a solid look at the car, almost all hood with a small cabin, dark wheels and a big exhaust before it hit its brakes, falling behind again. Whoever it was, they didn't want to lead. Takumi launched the car into the gutter, effortlessly putting more distance on the blue coupe. Within three corners it was lagging far behind, but with the straight it caught up once more.
“Who is that guy?” he asked, shaking his head. No matter what trick he tried to get the other to pass, he stayed behind.
“You're observing me,” Takumi said, “and I don't like it. You can't keep up in the corners, but you can overtake me on the straights. If you want to observe me, you're going to have to work for it,” he said with a tired grin.

*

Ryosuke looked at the black Porsche, paying particular attention to the tires. Special compound for high speeds, wide, and expensive. They cost as much as the 20B-REW had, and were the mark of a serious top speed racer. Tatsuya stopped and looked at the young man kneeling by his car.
“Can I help you?” he asked quickly. Ryosuke jumped up with a start.
“My apologies, Dr. Shima. I was just observing your car. I'm interested in automobiles myself, and I was admiring your vehicle. You've done quite a few modifications. I expected something a bit more staid for a doctor,” Ryosuke said smoothly.

“Should I be driving a Mercedes Benz?” Tatsuya asked flatly, arching an eyebrow at Takahashi. Ryosuke felt himself blush. It wasn't usually his place to be caught out, but he was speaking with a superior and he had been caught red-handed examining the man's car.
“No. What I meant was I'm surprised that I would meet an enthusiast in Tokyo in such a profession. I admire it. I was not relishing having to let go of my habit.”
“Ah, your RX-7. I saw it last night, on the Wangan. It has a decent turn of speed, but you stopped accelerating. Were you nearing your exit? There aren't usually police in that section, you know,” Tatsuya said easily.
“No, I ran out of gearing. I usually race on mountain passes, so my car is tuned for that. Top speed runs would require a lower rear gear, but that would hurt my acceleration on Mt. Akagi.”
“Mt. Akagi? Isn't that a bit of a drive?”
“Yes, it is. It's okay, I like driving,” Ryosuke said honestly. Tatsuya smirked.
“Come with me to lunch,” he said, getting into his Porsche. Ryosuke opened the passenger door and sat down inside, carefully moving his head so as to avoid the rollcage.

“You're very serious about this, aren't you?” Ryosuke asked, examining the cage and the various modifications inside the cabin, as well as the stiff ride and the slightly muffled growl of the boxer engine.
“As serious as I am about medicine. You may not understand it yet, but when you're responsible for whether someone lives or dies, you treat your own life differently. Some doctors retreat into golf or other sports, some play with the stock market, all to seek a way to burn off their frustrations and their stress. I have Blackbird. I race on the Wangan line, and it feels good to me. But every hobby has a price,” he added.
“A price?” Ryosuke asked, fully aware of the cost but curious as to Tatsuya's burden.
“They call it the Devil Z. It's an old Datsun Fairlady Z, blue, with around 620 HP. The car is cursed, Takahashi. You may well laugh at the thought, but you should understand that there are certain things in our world beyond our control. That car has claimed many lives, always being rebuilt and driven again. I was racing one night when the car went out of control and crashed. I stopped to help, but I was too late. I don't stop anymore. The last person that it killed was... close to me. After the accident I took care of his sister, but that family has been destroyed by that car. Now it's being driven again. I have a fascination with it, Takahashi.”

They stepped inside a small coffee shop close to the hospital for lunch. After a few minutes of silent eating, Tatsuya spoke up again.
“I'm sure you think I need care,” he said with a small chuckle, tapping his forehead. “I may. I keep running the Wangan, looking for him. He challenges my superiority. He is an admirable target,” Shima said, the last words of their conversation for that day.

*

Keisuke topped off the FD, watching as an old blue coupe pulled into the gas station at the pump next to him. A young man roughly Fujiwara's age stepped out, clad in red jacket and blue jeans.
“Interesting car,” Keisuke said.
“Thanks,” the young man replied, wiping off the windshield.
“What is it?”
“A Fairlady Z,” the young man replied.
“Interesting. I haven't seen you before. Where do you drive?” Keisuke asked, leaning against the fender of his FD, arms crossed over his chest.
“Usually the Wangan, but I go to Hakone sometimes. It's kind of boring, all those corners. I came here to see if the corners were more interesting, but I haven't seen anything worth my time yet,” he replied.
“Then you haven't raced on Akagi or Akina,” Keisuke said confidently.
“I have,” came the unenthusiastic reply.
“You have? Against who?” he asked in a shocked voice.
“No one, really. Just a lot of practice. There was an old Corolla that was pretty fast, and an Impreza, but they didn't have any power on the straight. If I had pushed the car in the corners I could have overtaken them, but there wasn't any challenge. I don't think they knew I was racing,” he said with another yawn.
“What's your name?” Keisuke asked.
“Asakura Akio,” he said.
“Akio, my name is Takahashi Keisuke. I'll challenge you to a race on Mt. Akagi or Mt. Akina, your choice. Pick the day and pick the time.”

“Nah,” Akio said, getting back in his car, “I don't think it would be any fun.”
“You race with me on my course, I'll race with you on yours,” Keisuke growled, feeling the anger rising in him. He had never been idly dismissed before and it stung. His words froze the young man.
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking at the FD with a skeptical expression on his face.
“I'm sure,” Keisuke replied. Akio thought it over for a moment before nodding his head.
“Alright, we can race. Saturday, 10 PM, at Mt. Akagi. Uphill and down, right?” he asked.
“Uphill and down,” Keisuke replied. Akio climbed into the blue Z and started up the engine, shifting into gear and driving off. Keisuke listened to the sound of turbochargers and saw the incredible acceleration.
“This is going to be fun,” he said with a predatory grin.

*

“You're racing what?” Ryosuke asked, his exhaustion dulling his shocked response.
“A blue Z, an old one. Uphill and downhill on Mt. Akagi, and then I'm going to race him wherever his home course is. Do you know this person? Another buddy from years ago?” Keisuke asked with a hint of bitterness that soared straight past the tired Ryosuke.
“No. The doctor I'm under at the hospital mentioned a blue Datsun Fairlady Z that he's obsessed with. Turbocharged, right?”
“Yeah,” Keisuke said uneasily.
“It's making 620 HP, Keisuke. Twin turbochargers. I wasn't able to get much more out of him, but it's definitely a mean machine with a skilled driver. I don't know what his abilities are on a mountain pass like Akagi, but on the Shuto line, he's the top racer.”
“Well, I'll have to do my best. I'd like to do this on my own, bro,” he added. Ryosuke looked up in surprise, then shrugged his shoulders and fell into his bed.
“If you say so. Have fun with it, Keisuke. Now let me get to sleep. You can borrow my laptop for the simulator program if you want.”

Keisuke picked up the laptop and left the room. Sitting down in his own room he opened up the laptop and looked at the simulator program. Poking along through the program's options, he was surprised to see that Ryosuke had already created a profile for the Fairlady Z. With a few more clicks he had his own FD loaded, the course selected, and everything ready to go. All he had to do was press the button. With a nervous breath, he pushed. The screen exploded into a flurry of calculations before fading into an animation of the two cars. Keisuke watched with his mouth hanging open, then shut the lid on the laptop and promptly went to sleep.

*

“My brother is intent on racing against the Devil Z,” Ryosuke said to Tatsuya as they took their usual lunch break. Tatsuya set down his utensils, wiped his mouth, and looked at him silently for quite some time, his mind obviously seeking the appropriate words.
“You have read Herman Melville?” he asked, a question that completely threw Ryosuke.
“The author? Only what was required in English. Why do you ask?”
“Herman Melville wrote a book about whaling, called Moby Dick. In it one of the characters had an obsession with killing a specific whale. At one point he even wished that his chest was a cannon so he could shoot his heart at it. If you have such a relationship with your brother, let him know this, because once he sinks his teeth into this challenge, he may never wish to let go.”

“Can you let go?” Ryosuke asked carefully.
“I don't know,” Tatsuya said, rising to leave. Outside, getting into the Porsche, he looked at Ryosuke carefully.
“You speak eloquently about the touge. I'd like to try it. Where is it that you run?”
“Mt. Akagi, it's near my home. Would you like to go this evening?” Ryosuke asked, feeling oddly hopeful.
“Yes, I think I would. If you'd ride with me, I would appreciate your comments,” Tatsuya said, parking his car outside the hospital. Watching the doctor walk in, Ryosuke lingered outside for a few moments, wondering at his behavior.
“I haven't been like this since I was a child,” he said, looking at the black Porsche. “What is it about Tatsuya that makes me feel like this? I feel like I'm looking at a twisted mirror image of myself.” He glanced at his shining white Spirit R, then looked at the ominous black Porsche.
DrIfTeRX305
Posted: Nov 20 2007, 08:20 PM


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OMG FIRST POST!!'2/!@12?!

If Akio crashes almost daily on the Wangan, imagine on a mountain pass? You really twisted the stories with each other, its pretty incredible.
207
Posted: Nov 20 2007, 08:43 PM


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nice! i like how you integrated tatsuya, akio and kitami into the story. nice twist with the 86 pistons. i look forward to seeing keisuke racing the s30 and any other subsequent battles. laugh.gif akio's impression of the 86 and impreza when he was observing.

This post has been edited by 207 on Nov 20 2007, 08:45 PM
crash
Posted: Nov 20 2007, 09:02 PM


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Excellent! Excellent!! Excellent!!!

I love how you integrated the characters. I hope Akio gets crushed by Takumi or Keisuke in the mountain passes. Maybe Takumi will drop a Hemi in his 86 for the Wangan runs lol.
DK_2
Posted: Nov 20 2007, 09:13 PM


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OMG such a huge update! w00t2.gif shock.gif Saaaaaank-Yuuuuuu!!!!! biggrin.gif happy.gif
tofujay
Posted: Nov 20 2007, 09:50 PM


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wow nice chapter cant wait for the succeeding ones as always, good job man!
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Posted: Nov 20 2007, 11:36 PM


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Awesome, a Camaro.

BTW, Akio's Z wouldnt be a Datsun, I'm pretty sure. Datsun was only used for american imports of nissan's cars, so it'd just be a Nissan S30 Fairlady Z.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Datsun

Seems like a cool fanfiction though, post more. Does Akio ever stop crashing, because now I'm into like episode 6 of wangan midnight, and he crashes or loses control pretty frequently.
Meteor
Posted: Nov 21 2007, 01:16 AM


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Another great start to another great fic. Looking forward to the next chapter.
QUOTE
Does Akio ever stop crashing, because now I'm into like episode 6 of wangan midnight, and he crashes or loses control pretty frequently.

The Wangan Midnight manga has far more volumes than the anime currently has episodes. And Akio stopped crashing long ago.
VTiRoj
Posted: Nov 21 2007, 02:21 AM


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Wow, this is one hell of a Initial D/Wangan Midnight crossover, not only is Project.D going to the Wangan, but the Blackbird and Devil Z are going to the mountains? Wow, this'll be fun.

Nice way of using Tatsuya and Ryousuke's doctoring intrests to good use wink2.gif

Oh, and the broken Japanese sounded so funny laugh.gif like it came straight from google, except, its being spoken laugh.gif
red comet 7
Posted: Nov 21 2007, 05:32 PM


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man i was skeptical at first about a cross over but dude your nailing it perfect. even the intricate little details. amazing

oh and another thing ive noticed...

the title "boxer battle" implies impreza...

either takumi brings the impreza to wangan or something like this goes down...

Keisuke VS Akio

Ryousuke VS Tatsuya

Takumi (in HIS OWN IMPREZA) VS Bunta (in HIS IMPREZA)

this will show the ultimate showdown between the two cuz they are both driving the same car....

This post has been edited by red comet 7 on Nov 21 2007, 05:36 PM
thx712517
  Posted: Nov 21 2007, 06:18 PM


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Don't forget that the 911 is a boxer motor as well.

******************

The yellow FD shot down Akagi, engine screaming at redline as the twin turbochargers jammed it full of air, boosting its power to stratospheric limits. The tires screamed for traction as the nimble coupe rocketed around the corner, rear end sliding under near-perfect control. Correcting his countersteer, Keisuke shifted up and buried the throttle, the engine's power rolling in smoothly and thrusting the car forward. Tapping the brakes, he cut the wheel across and hit the throttle for the next corner, initiating his drift and holding it with countersteer and gentle manipulation of the throttle. Barreling down the straight, he put his foot to the floor and groaned.
“Not quite the same,” Keisuke said to himself, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was afraid the FD would hear him complaining. His mind flashed back to the brutality of the Camaro, the gut-thumping roar of the engine, the torque shaking the body of the car as it sat still.

Diving into the next corner he pushed harder and harder, the simulation clear in his mind. It would be a close race. The simulation had been unable to provide a clear picture of the battle, lacking the necessary information on the driver. Keisuke still remembered his shock at finding out his brother didn't know everything. At the base of Mt. Akagi he pulled the emergency brake, let go, and hit the throttle, spinning the FD around to point upward. Another hillclimb, another downhill. It would take a lot of practice to be truly lethal.

“I've been coasting,” Keisuke said. “I'm fast during battles, but driving here on my home course, I don't push as hard as I can. I leave too much space between my car and the guardrails, and I don't use as much throttle as I could. Complacency dulls me. I need to sharpen my reflexes here.” A small fireball belched out of the FD's exhaust as he jammed on the brakes, the engine running rich to protect its apex seals, the unburned fuel igniting in the exhaust. Drifting around another corner he tapped the throttle, pushing harder and harder until he could feel the rear of the car begin to slide past the optimal drift angle. It was a familiar sensation in the Starlet, but in the FD it was new and alien. Keisuke countersteered deeper and pushed down on the throttle harder, trying to coerce the car to stabilize, but it was no good. The yellow FD spun out, sliding across the road and slithering off into a small grassy spot.

Keisuke relaxed his white-knuckled grip on the wheel and leaned back in his seat, breathing a deep sigh of relief and frustration.
“It's been two years since I've spun out in practice,” he said, starting the engine again. The rotary took a few extra spins before it caught, but it hummed with power as if nothing had happened. With gentle use of the clutch and throttle, Keisuke bumped the FD back onto the road and continued toward the top, his record run worthless. At the top he looked at his timer, jotted down the times, then rested his head in his hands.
“I don't know if I can do this, but I'm going to try,” he said in a determined voice.
“Do you need some help?” a voice asked. Keisuke jumped out in surprise, whirling around to find the speaker. When he saw the black FD lurking in the shadows he relaxed.
“Are you stalking me?” he asked. Kyoko chuckled and walked up to him, bowing her head slightly in greeting.

“No, just concerned. You were being so friendly before, so I thought I would give you another chance to treat me nicely. And I thought I could help you, too,” she added.
“How could you help me?” Keisuke asked.
“Practice partner, I guess,” she answered.
“That's a nice offer, but...”
“Listen, darling,” she began, but caught herself and continued in a more business-like tone, “Keisuke. I care for you, but I'm not sure you're ready to return those feelings. So I won't ask you to. I just want to help you and be near you. That's all. You're up here with a stopwatch going up and down Mt. Akagi, so I know you're practicing. You might do better if you run against me. That's all I'm offering,” she said bravely.
“Even if you say so,” he muttered, looking at the girl as she stood there. It was plainly obvious she was still interested in him, even after the incident at the diner and at the course the year before. Cars he could understand, but this woman standing before him, still affectionate after he had told her in no uncertain terms he wasn't interested at all, was more difficult to fathom.

“Alright,” he said. “Practice. Have you done anything to your FD?” he asked as a pleasantry.
“I'm still using a single turbo setup, but I'm using a ball-bearing turbo with a faster spool-up time. I've lost a little bit of ultimate horsepower but I've gained a lot of response and eliminated a lot of lag. I also lightened the flywheel and switched to a carbon fiber driveshaft and lightweight wheels to decrease reaction time. You won't be able to bump and pass me this time,” she said, flashing a brilliant smile.
“Sounds like a challenge,” Keisuke said with a flash of a smile. The two FDs lined up and took off, hurtling downhill.

*

Tatsuya stood in the parking lot, hands in pockets, waiting for Ryosuke to appear.
“I'm sorry I took so long,” Ryosuke said apologetically as he hurried out of the building, “but I was bogged down with paperwork. Have you been waiting long?”
“No,” Tatsuya replied coolly.
“Would you like to follow me there, or would you just like directions?” Ryosuke asked, somewhat afraid he had insulted his mentor.
“I'll follow you. Is there a place you can store your car while you ride along?”
“Yes, at the peak. You can get a feel for it as we climb up, and then I'll ride with you on the way down and see how you do. I'm kind of curious how you'll do,” Ryosuke said honestly. Without another word Shima left for his Porsche and Ryosuke hopped into his Spirit R. The two were quickly on their way, passing slower traffic with ease.

Traveling up Mt. Akagi, Ryosuke felt nervous. He was pushing the Spirit R slightly, just enough to give Tatsuya an idea for the pace, constantly checking his rearview mirror to make sure he was close behind. Sure enough, the black Porsche never wavered, but it never pushed either. At the top, Ryosuke parked the Spirit R and walked over.
“This is it?” Tatsuya asked.
“Yes,” Ryosuke replied.
“Hmm. Well, get in. I'd appreciate your comments.” Ryosuke entered the car silently, buckling up the harness and preparing himself. Tatsuya seemed like a coiled snake, ready to strike. The engine revved up and Tatsuya popped the clutch, the car shooting forward like a jet.

Ryosuke felt a small amount of concern rising inside him, a feeling that rapidly mutated into fear as the first truly tight corner appeared. Tatsuya was a grip driver, and he was doing his best, but the Blackbird was tuned for the Wangan, not tight winding mountain roads, and it showed in the exertion required from Tatsuya behind the wheel as he fought the powerful black coupe.
“With the rear engine placement and weight balance of the car I can't be too aggressive in attacking the corners or else I risk losing control,” he said almost in apology, gasping slightly as he dove into another tight right-hander.
“Understandable. It took me quite some time to learn how to properly drive my car in the mountains. It's very different from high speed travel,” Ryosuke said politely, his knuckles turning white and his muscles straining to brace his body.

As the Porsche battled its way down the mountain, Ryosuke began to sense the rhythm of the car slowly beginning to emerge. It was tail heavy, unbalanced, and built totally for high speed runs, but it had incredible grip and massive power. Used properly, it could be a potent weapon on the touge. Ryosuke felt his mind beginning to race over the possibilities, ignoring the fact that he usually looked down on imports. At the base of the mountain, he looked at his mentor and carefully judged the situation.
“Let me drive us back up,” Ryosuke said, less of a question and more of an order. Tatsuya arched an eyebrow but unbuckled just the same, leaving the key in the ignition and the Blackbird's powerful boxer motor burbling away. Ryosuke settled behind the wheel, buckled in, and familiarized himself with the controls.

“With the heavy rear and light front, handling is tricky. You risk loss of control when you push it on the uphill, but on the downhill more weight is put on the front of the car and it's possible that with tuning you could neutralize the weight bias. I'm not saying you will have perfect static balance, but you could reach a manageable dynamic balance. As long as you kept moving above a certain speed the car would be more neutral rather than tail happy. The massive horsepower of this engine is a great asset for the uphill, although the turbo lag hurts you. High speed tuning doesn't fall easily into uphill or downhill categories. You would need to alter a number of settings in order to be truly fast,” Ryosuke said, “but I can show you how fast you can be right now.”
Without another word Ryosuke floored the engine and shot upward, screaming up Mt. Akagi at lethal speeds, pushing the Porsche harder and harder in every turn. At the top he deliberately spun the car, caught it, and rocketed downward, each dip of the throttle resulting in a short lag followed by an almost painful surge of power from the engine that blurred his vision.
“If you tuned down the engine, using a more responsive turbine, and used some ballast to alleviate the car's poor static balance, you would have a devastating machine for the mountain passes,” Ryosuke said as they idled next to the Spirit R. Tatsuya slowly relaxed his grip and carefully extricated his legs from their bracing positions as he listened to his student.

“I'm not sure I wish to make so many compromises,” he said carefully, “but I will think it over. This is a new style of driving for me, but it interests me deeply. Would you drive this course in your car now?” Tatsuya asked. Ryosuke nodded and walked over to the Spirit R. Strapping in, he looked at Tatsuya.
“This isn't going to be gentle. This isn't going to be nice. My Spirit R is built for the touge, and I've raced like this all my life. Are you ready?” he asked. The doctor nodded, wrapping his hands tightly around whatever grips he could find, pushing his legs against the center console and the door.
“Ready.”
207
Posted: Nov 21 2007, 07:15 PM


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laugh.gif fear the blackbird and ryosuke. w00t2.gif its been a while since 2 FD raced against each other.
Meteor
Posted: Nov 22 2007, 01:11 AM


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Nice to see an RR car on the mountain passes.

Ah, the 911 (930) A.K.A Blackbird. Even with its RR layout, full throttle doesn't straighten out the car as quickly as in the other Porsches during a slide.

Should be awesome to see the mountain tuned version of the Blackbird. In the meantime we get to see Ryousuke drive! happy.gif

And it's nice to see a Rotary Battle part II in the same fic.

This post has been edited by Meteor on Nov 22 2007, 01:12 AM
Panda_86
Posted: Nov 22 2007, 01:53 AM


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A cameo, balanced to mix... Let's see how the "straight-line-racer" doctor reacts with a "touge-racing" doctor... Scalpels please!!! grin2.gif
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Posted: Nov 22 2007, 02:57 PM


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This is just as wonderful as your previous one! Though, I kept hearing WM themes while reading, instead of ID-themes.. whistling.gif
xmark
Posted: Nov 22 2007, 08:21 PM


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Just like Ryosuke's Theory.

Those who can drive fast only on straightaways are amateurs. Those who've mastered the corners are middle rank. An advanced driver makes the difference not in the straightaways or corners but in the third point.

IMHO straights are for faster cars, corners are for faster drivers.

Every update makes a the story thrilling... Am so excited for the next one.
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  Posted: Nov 23 2007, 07:23 PM


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A little bit more for now, but since I'm working tomorrow I won't be able to update more this week. Maybe a bit on Sunday? At least the semester's coming to a close, so I'll have my nights to myself again.
******************

Keisuke floored the throttle, relishing his twin turbo FD and its immediate response. Even with Kyoko's modifications, her single turbo took time to spool up. In most corners she was able to simply keep her foot to the floor, ignoring any subtleties of throttle manipulation and putting a significant gap on him, but as the turns got tighter, the yellow FD was gaining once more. Kyoko glanced in her rearview mirror at the approaching rotary monster and tapped her brakes slightly, just enough to check her FD's speed and make the corner. Keisuke tapped his own brakes for a fraction of a second less time, gaining a meter and a half on her.

The two FDs screamed through a wide turn, attempting a parallel drift with the black FD in the lead. Midway through the turn, slightly after the apex, they switched positions and barreled down a short straight, Keisuke's FD finally edging even with Kyoko's.
“You're not fast enough,” Keisuke said, smiling as he creeped past Kyoko. Looking ahead his eyes widened. The approaching turn was tighter than he remembered, with debris on the inside. If he had been in the Starlet he would have been driving much slower and would have made the corner, but in the powerful FD, it would be close. Kyoko's FD had long disappeared as the yellow FD plunged deeper and deeper into the danger zone, brakes almost locked up as Keisuke fought desperately to scrub off as much speed as he could.

“Darling!” Kyoko cried, watching in horror as the FD understeered, headed straight for the guardrail. Keisuke kept his foot down, trusting in the FD's powerful ABS system, massive rotors and six piston calipers to slow him down. The tires screamed a tortured wail as clouds of rubber smoke billowed around the car, obscuring his tail lights from view. Kyoko slowed her car and jumped out, running toward the FD.
“Darling! Darling! Are you okay?” she shouted, throwing open the FD's door and looking down at a shaken but laughing Keisuke.
“I'm fine,” he said, still chuckling. “I'm fine. Just forgot what car I was in for a second there. I'll be fine,” he said again, holding her hand as he shakily exited the car, looking at the FD stopped a half meter from the guardrail.
“Lesson learned for the evening,” Keisuke said as he shivered in the cold air of the approaching winter.
“How about we go get something to eat?” he suggested, getting back into the FD resting his arm on the door. Kyoko nodded, still a little pale.
“I don't know how you can be hungry after almost crashing your car, but okay. Let's go eat. Will you lead the way?” she asked. He nodded in reply and took off, his pace as unrelenting as it had been moments before sliding toward the rail. Kyoko pushed the FD harder and harder, desperately trying to keep up with Keisuke. It was a difficult quarter of an hour, but they were soon outside the restaurant, engines idling smoothly in unison to allow their turbochargers to cool down.

“I didn't know they had an Anna Miller's here,” Kyoko said.
“It's new. Do you like it? I'm not really hungry, I just want some pie. If you don't have a sweet tooth, we can find somewhere else,” Keisuke offered.
“No, that's okay,” Kyoko answered, shutting off her FD and walking inside. The two sat down and were soon served, sipping at coffee and uneasily pecking at a few sugar-laden confections.
“Have you ever gone flower viewing?” Kyoko asked, stirring her coffee with her spoon and gazing deep into the milky swirl.
“No,” Keisuke said with a laugh. “I would rather drive my car. Why? Have you gone?”
“I'd like to, but it's kind of silly to sit on a blanket and look at a tree by myself. Would you like to go tomorrow?” she asked, raising her soulful brown eyes and smiling at him. Keisuke felt his heart skip a beat, his mind racing a mile a minute as he stuttered.
“Sure,” he choked out, surprised at his eager reaction.

“Sweet,” she said, licking her spoon and setting it down on her napkin. “I like this pie.”
tiQlado
  Posted: Nov 23 2007, 08:09 PM


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Heheh. The FD prince out on a date. You're doing a good job writing Kyoko thus far. Let us know if you need some help tackling with the female mind (not that I'd be much help laugh.gif)
Meteor
Posted: Nov 23 2007, 08:29 PM


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Cute. Those two are out on a date.

Looking forward to the next chapter.

In the meantime. . MUST! HAVE! PIE!
207
Posted: Nov 23 2007, 09:02 PM


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my prayers are answered for the time being, i found it sucked that those 2 couldnt get far in the actual anime due to project d.
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  Posted: Nov 24 2007, 01:44 PM


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Slow days at work are a blessing and a curse. A curse because there's nothing to do, and if the boss is there this is a bad thing. A blessing in that when I'm working on my own, as I usually do on Saturdays, I can make a lot of progress. Beware of Itsuki!

******

A few tables away, Akio looked up and grinned slightly, catching Reina's attention and pointing over her shoulder to the spiky blonde sitting a few booths down, talking quietly with a pleasant brunette girl.
"Who's that?" Reina asked.
"My next target, Akio replied. "I was filling up at one of the gas stations around here and he challenged me to a race. One of the local hotshots, I think. He drives a yellow RX-7."
"Oh. Are you racing on the highway here?" she asked.
"No, I'm racing on his mountain. Lots of boring curves," he said, taking another sip from his cup. Reina frowned. For boring curves, Akio usually drove with total concentration and monumental intensity, trying to keep the Devil Z under control. Its speed through the corners of Hakone was unreal, like watching a movie unfold, with no sensation of speed except for the tremendous g-forces and the ever-present rush of wind.

"How do you think you'll do?" she asked pleasantly, casting an eye toward the racer's companion with a smile. Almost like a mirror.
"Too good. My Z won't be defeated, especially by a rotary. They can't handle boost pressure at all. They like blowing apex seals. He's probably lucky to have four hundred horsepower, if that much." Reina's mind refocused on the conversation at that.
"Eh? Only four hundred?" she said, very surprised.
"Yeah. I don't know, the more I drive around here, the more strange things I see. I was overtaken last night on Mt. Akina by a little white Corolla. I've been following him for the past few nights, but tonight's the first time he was able to pass me. I wonder what they've done to that car."
"It's only a Corolla, I wouldn't worry about it," she replied, her eyes watching the traffic outside. Suddenly she stiffened in her seat and pointed.
"Blackbird!" she cried. Akio looked out the window and, sure enough, the dangerous black Porsche was idling in the street, a stranger in the passenger seat.
"Where's he going?" Akio asked, looking at the blonde racer and his girl get up and walk outside.

"Bro, what are you doing in that?" Keisuke asked with a smile, taking in the impressive machine, its engine burbling with the typical boxer idle.
"Showing a friend how we race in Gunma," Ryosuke replied. "This is Shima Tatsuya. Let me introduce you to my brother, Takahashi Keisuke."
"Hello," Tatsuya said politely, leaning low to see out the passenger window and make eye contact with Keisuke.
"Hello," he replied. "How do you like the touge?"
"It's interesting," Tatsuya said. "In some ways it isn't nearly as demanding as the Wangan, but in others it is all-involving. Is this a popular style of racing?"

"I think so," Keisuke answered. "I don't know if my brother told you or not, but we're members of Project D, and we travel all across the country to set the fastest course times on our challengers' courses, defeating them and leaving them with a record time they can't surpass."
"No, I don't believe that was mentioned," Tatsuya said, glancing at Ryosuke. "At any rate, your brother Ryosuke has been kind enough to offer his services in tuning my car for the mountain passes, with as little damage as possible to my Wangan abilities. I would enjoy the pleasure of your competition, Keisuke. I believe you still owe me," he added before letting his foot off the clutch and driving away.

Kyoko turned to Keisuke and looked at him curiously.
"I may have stolen a set of his wheels at one point in the past," Keisuke admitted sheepishly.

*

Inside the diner, Akio was fixated. The racer had gone and spoken with Blackbird for a number of minutes, acting as if they knew each other, and then they had parted company, smiling. It was bizarre enough for the Blackbird to be so far from the Wangan, but to be linked with the mystery racer and his yellow FD?
“I don't understand what's going on," he confessed. "I didn't know that he was friends with Blackbird. This might be harder than I thought," he sighed, draining his cup. Reina shrugged her shoulders and offered a helpful smile.
"You've defeated Blackbird before. The Canary shouldn't be as hard as that," she chuckled.
"The Canary?" Akio asked.
"Yellow car, right?" Reina replied with a smile. Akio let himself laugh, then shook his head and stood up.
"I'm going to go practice. Do you want to come?"
"Of course!"

Standing outside in the cold, Akio rested a hand on the long blue hood of the Devil Z and stood still for a few moments. The warmth of the metal was in strong contrast to the bitter cold that swirled around him. With the cold air, the turbochargers would be more responsive and more powerful, and he wouldn't have to worry as much about overheating the L28 motor. Bored and stroked to 3.1 liters, it was a big engine making a lot of heat, and the turbochargers added even more. The radiator and cooling setup was fine for the 280+ kilometers per hour of the Wangan, but at low speeds in the mountains, there was always a tiny amount of concern for the car in the back of his mind. Akio sighed and climbed in, starting up the inline six and letting it come up to operating temperature.

"It's not late enough for the Corolla to be out," Akio said, "but we might see some of the other local cars. There's a small racing group that practices around this time. Do you want to go play with them?" he asked, smiling devilishly.
"I didn't think you played well with others," Reina responded. With a slight grin, Akio put the Z into gear and feathered the throttle, taking off into the night with the powerful thrust 620 HP to the rear wheels could provide.

*

"Itsuki you jerk, who said you could pass me?" Kenji said, smiling as he punched him. Itsuki rubbed his shoulder and shrugged.
"Sorry Kenji, but I took the inside line faster than you did. I guess I'm getting better," he said with a broad grin. One by one he was getting faster than the other Speedstars and truly earning his membership, rather than being tolerated because he knew Takumi. It was an addictive feeling, and the turbocharged AE85 sitting behind him was responsible for his giddy rush of happiness.
"I liked it better when it was naturally aspirated," Kenji grumbled, walking back to his car, hands jammed deep in his pockets. Iketani watched him, then chuckled and turned to Itsuki.

"Feel like your luck will hold out for another run?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at his S13. Mako had spent considerable time with him tuning the car and practicing until he was good enough to challenge her. Itsuki was nervous, but a glance at his AE85 gave him confidence.
"I don't know if I'll win, but I'd like to battle."
"Good enough for me. Down and back up again as fast as we can, right?" Iketani said, walking toward his car. Itsuki nodded but stopped when a set of headlights appeared at the far end of the road, coming closer rapidly.

"I don't recognize that car..." he muttered, walking to the side of the road before focusing further. It was a small blue coupe with a long hood, and a man and woman were inside. The driver side window rolled down and the man, a little bit older than Itsuki, stuck his head out.
"Do you know anyone that would like to race down the mountain?" he asked.
"We were just about to have a battle," Itsuki replied, crossing his arms. He didn't like this man's attitude.
"Good. Let me race the winner. My name's Akio, by the way," he added, pulling his car to the side of the road and shutting off the engine. Itsuki shook his head and walked to the 85, got in, and pulled up to the starting line.

"Who's that?" Iketani asked through his open window.
"Says his name is Akio. He wants to race the winner. I don't like it, Iketani-senpai."
"Don't worry about it, Itsuki. Let's just have fun," he said, blipping his throttle. Kenji walked up and took his place.
"San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" he shouted, standing clear as the two turbocharged cars lunged forward.

Itsuki kept his foot down, cringing at the slow takeoff of the AE85, but his eyes were fixed on the tachometer, and as the needle swept higher he braced himself for the impact. The turbocharger finally spooled up, kicking in with enough power to waggle the rear of the car and jet the hachi-go forward with demon speed. Iektani's S13 was in sight but barely, his more responsive engine getting the best of the hachi-go off the line. The first corner appeared and Itsuki kept his foot to the floor, trusting in the grip of his tires to make it through.
Although Takumi would always be known for his flashy drift style of driving, Itsuki had practiced grip driving night after night until it was second nature to him, and it was how he drove. The AE85 shot through the turn, helped by the traction of its wide tires, and staggered forward after the rapidly-fleeing S13. The short straight was devoured quickly, the single cam motor's great torque pushing the 85 forward faster and faster. Itsuki downshifted using the heel-toe technique he had perfected a few days earlier, using engine braking and a light tap on the brake pedal to help his car make the corner, rolling into the gas a little bit before the apex to take advantage of the turbocharger's slow response. As he clipped the apex of the turn the turbo kicked in, thrusting him forward again, barely in control but making up some of his lost ground against the S13.

Iketani glanced in his mirrors and felt his happy attitude slip a little bit.
"If I'm overtaken by Itsuki, I'll never be able to show my face at work," he said, despairing his situation. Shaking his head to clear his mind he pushed the S13 harder, reminding himself that he was the limit, not the car.
"My S13 can corner faster than this. My tires are better. I'm just afraid to trust the car," he murmured, pushing harder and harder to get past his reluctance. Itsuki was still gaining, throwing his car into the turns and accelerating down the straights, using his laggy turbo to the best of its abilities.

As the two cars flashed past the midpoint of Akina, they were dead even, racing nose to tail, Iketani's S13 just barely hanging onto the lead.
"I don't understand," Iketani said, downshifting to take the next corner. "How can Itsuki be faster than me?" He let the rear begin to slide, countersteering to keep the car stable. To his great horror, the turbo Levin passed on the inside.
"Iketani-senpai is getting much better at drifting," Itsuki said, "but he uses drift in corners where he should use grip. He can clear some corners faster than I can, but the fastest line for someone of our skill level is to use grip." With a final prod of the pedal, the AE85 was firmly in the lead as the two cars approached the five hairpins.

Itsuki looked over at the gutters on either side of the road but felt his heart weaken a little bit. "Those are for Takumi, not me," he said finally, deciding to continue using grip. As they streaked over the finish line, Itsuki smiled. The S13 was a car length behind.
"Well Itsuki," Iketani said as he pulled his car up next to the 85, "I never thought you'd beat me. I guess I need to practice more. Ready for the run to the top?" Itsuki nodded, revved his engine, and took off with the S13 chasing close behind.
207
Posted: Nov 24 2007, 02:37 PM


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nice, looks like itsuki has some hope of becoming a fast racer.
red comet 7
Posted: Nov 24 2007, 03:12 PM


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haha hachi-go!! ready for some more depth...
thx712517
  Posted: Nov 24 2007, 07:23 PM


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Depth? Depth requires me to get some sleep, so maybe tomorrow. You get AE85 versus Devil Z instead.

************

Reina sat down on the guardrail, hugging her jacket close against the bitter wind and grimacing at Akio. He was enjoying the cold, letting the Z warm up for the battle.
“I think I'll enjoy this. It's not the Corolla that I see in the mornings, but it seems decent. I'm surprised how hard some of these battles can be,” he admitted.
“Hard? For the Z?”
“On the uphill I can't be stopped, but on the downhill, I can't use all of the Z's power. It wants to run, but it feels like I'm trapped in a cage. I say that it's boring, but it feels dangerous,” Akio confessed, shooting a fearful glance at the Z.
“Dangerous?”


“There's more to that car than I can explain. You know that. This Devil Z was born out of anguish and shame as a monument to someone's skill, one last shining example of his abilities, the perfection of his craft. This car is better than I am, and I know that. I can only hope to control it, hang on for the ride,” Akio said, standing up and walking toward the Z as he saw the AE85 returning, the S13 slightly behind.

“Am I racing you then?” he asked.
“I guess so,” Itsuki replied, feeling unsure of himself. Iketani nodded.
“Don't worry Itsuki, you'll do well. You're a member of the Speedstars, after all.” The two cars lined up and Iketani stood between them to count off. On one side there was Itsuki's little AE85, its turbo spinning happily, while on the other side was the dark blue evil-looking Fairlady Z, oozing power.
“San! Ni! Ichi! GO!” Iketani roared over the sound of the Z's engine. The two cars revved up and shot off, the Z's rear tires vomiting smoke as it accelerated, rapidly outstripping the AE85.

Itsuki felt his jaw drop as he saw the blue coupe rocket forward, devouring the short straight with sickening ease.
“I won't give up. Power isn't important on the downhill, it's skill!” He pushed harder, ignoring the fact that he couldn't even see the blue Z's tail lamps anymore. The AE85 shot through the corner, leaning heavily thanks to the many still-stock suspension pieces. It was the first time Itsuki felt bad that he had spent the money on the turbo kit rather than springs and swaybars. With all the skills he possessed he kept trying, pushing as hard as he could, driving the car as hard as was possible, until the sweat poured from his forehead and his shirt clung to his back.

Entering the five hairpins, Itsuki was shocked to catch a tiny glimpse of the Z's tail lamps, glowing brightly in the night as the blue coupe hauled down from speed to make the corner. Itsuki dove through the corner as fast as he could, gaining on the Z. The Z was a little clumsy as it fought its way through the turns, tuned as it was for high speed handling.
“This sucks,” Akio said honestly, turning the wheel as rapidly as he could. There was no denying the fact that the Z was tuned for high speed, and in the tight corners of Akina the car was simply too unwieldy. The slower steering rack that was perfect for high speed stability hurt the Z's steering response, taking too many turns to bring the front wheels from one direction to another. The suspension setup was more for high speed stability than low speed maneuverability, costing Akio the quick responses needed to handle the course.

Itsuki managed to draw up to the rear bumper of the Z, his lights shining in the Z's rearview mirrors. He tried to dodge inside, but the Z blocked. At the third hairpin Itsuki went wide, letting the rear slide a bit as he tried to angle his car better for the next turn. On the fourth hairpin Itsuki's 85 was positioned on the inside, and he was able to take the lead. Akio cursed, forced to keep the Z slow in order to clear the fifth hairpin.
“Time to shine,” he murmured as the tight hairpin ended, dumping them on a nice straightaway. With his foot to the floor, the Devil Z's 3.1 liter twin turbo motor screamed with power, thrusting the car forward so quickly that Itsuki felt its airstream rock the AE85.

At the finish line Itsuki hung his head, ashamed to have come in last. The blue Z was already disappearing up the hill again, in search of fresh blood. Kenji was at the finish line, his eyes wide in shock.
“Itsuki, how were you able to keep so close?” he asked, running up to him.
“What do you mean? I lost,” Itsuki replied, getting out of the 85.
“Sure you lost. That car had over six hundred horsepower, Itsuki. You were only five seconds behind it! You're incredible! Only Takumi could do better.” Kenji looked at him with newfound admiration, patting his hand on the AE85's hood. Itsuki felt pride swelling inside him, and respect for his hachi-go.
207
Posted: Nov 24 2007, 09:50 PM


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nice, itsuki had a decent chance. looks like the 85 is indeed pretty good at times. now the question is wat will akio do to the car when he wants to battle the fd.

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