Really liking this one! Cant wait for the next chapter! Great job you two.
Get well soon Takumi.
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| Initial D World - Discussion Board / Forums > Initial D Fanfiction > [FANFIC] Battle of the Masterminds |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 21 2008, 04:56 PM |
| It was past ten and Team Emperor was gathered at the top of Irohazaka. Kyoichi Sudo was about to try for a new personal best on the downhill record. The gallery was packed with fans and rivals all waiting to witness the amazing speed of the Emperor and His Evo III roar down the winding road ahead of him. The Evo III sat menacingly at the starting line, the exhaust note filling the night air along with the clamor and stirrings of the excited spectators that crushed against the guardrails to get closer to the incredible machinery on display. Seiji stood next to Kyoichi, who was himself meditating by his Evo III, composing his mind for the record run attempt. The wait was stressful making sure everyone was set up with stop watches and in sync with each other at the checkpoints, but it was necessary to eliminate having to redo a run. Sudo was not one to get worked up before a race, using the time instead to run over the course in his mind, his hands making small movements as he turned his imaginay steering wheel. He needed all his focus for this one. Suddenly the radio in Seiji’s hand sprang to life, announcing for everyone to hear that the road was all clear and ready to go, timers were positioned and spectators had moved clear. Kyoichi opened his eyes and without saying a word opened the door to his Evo III and climbed in. “Understood,” Seiji replied. The gallery, picking up on the situation, moved closer to the starting line. There was a collective moment as more than one person stopped to take in the beauty of the Evo as it revved and backfired, the banging of its exhaust like a gun firing in the night. “San! Ni! Ichi! GO!” Sudo took a breath, floored the throttle, popped the clutch and launched with astounding precision into the long straightaway that led to the dangerous hairpins that had built Irohazaka's fearsome legend. The Evo had been tuned specifically for his needs for the record attempt. He could no longer afford to lose time in the straights, resulting in another powerup of the iron-block 4G63 engine. This wasn’t a battle where honor polluted the issue, this was for time, and the clock felt no remorse, no twinge of honor. A record to prove once and for all why he was the Emperor of Irohazaka, a record that would establish him once and for all as the dominant driver of Irohazaka, as great as Ryosuke on Akagi. With adjustable cam gears, turbo cams, a full catback exhaust and a highly tuned ECU the horsepower had been upped to 385 and the coilover suspension retuned to his preferences based on data from countless runs. With this setup no one would ever beat his record, not even Ryosuke and his unbelievable ancient RX-7. The first corner came on much faster than usual. Sudo slammed the brakes, enjoying the incredible response as the slots in the rotors wiped the incandescent pad material off, the drilled holes bleeding off the gases before they could dull the response of the brakes. Without a touch of the handbrake he rotated the Evo III around the hairpin, buried his throttle pedal, and rocketed out of the corner into the night. This was his home course and no one could touch him here. His time would be remembered for generations to come. * Back at the peak of Irohazaka the Emperors were celebrating their leader's new incredible record. The new time was an astounding nine and half seconds faster than the previous best of Sudo or any other racer that had ever turned a wheel in anger on Irohazaka. It was a total and complete victory. The Emperors and gallery continued to talk and converse on the amazing feat they had just witnessed. Through the crowd and the showers of praise and congratulations Sudo noticed a strange man crouched next to his parked Evo III, clearly examining it and its setup. “Hey! What are you doing?” Sudo barked as he parted the crowd and strode quickly towards the man examining his car. “I... I was just admiring it,” the stranger replied. “I think you’ve done enough admiring for one night,”Kyouichi said sourly, unwilling to let others benefit from his hard work. The stranger stood up slowly but his gaze never left the rear of the car. He was tall and dark, older than Kyoichi, taller than him as well, and somewhat shaggy. His appearance and attitude put Sudo on edge. “I'll finish my admiration, but it was long enough to notice the incorrect suspension setup too. It isn't much, but you could pick up your speed a bit quicker if you softened it in the rear some. It's a common mistake to set the shocks too stiffly in the rear of an all-wheel-drive vehicle, don't feel bad about it. If you kept them a bit softer and altered the toe settings you could accelerate harder coming out of the corners and push harder out of the apex. Your setup right now is good, don't get me wrong, but it’s not perfect. But I guess it depends on what you prefer and what works for you, really.” “I don’t know who you think you are, but this Evo is specifically tuned for this mountain and there’s no way it will ever be defeated. I know this Evo better than the back of my hand, and if you think you’re going to step in here and school me on how to tune my car then you’re sadly mistaken,” Sudo growled. The stranger smiled slightly and shook his head. “You’re all the same…all I did was offer you advice. I didn’t say you had to take it. But if you’re too proud to listen to a kindly pointer then I can accept that. But remember, even Emperors have advisors.” Kyoichi turned and followed the stranger to his car, one that Kyoichi wasn’t expecting. A gleaming red FC3S stood before him, dominating the pavement it sat upon. It had an aggressive stance and black five spoke wheels were shadowed underneath the body of the immaculate car. Kyouichi watched in hostility as this newcomer climbed into the RX-7 car and started it up. The stranger was eerily similar to Ryosuke and his overbearing manner, and the man's voice rankled in Sudo's mind. Kyouichi couldn’t take it any longer. “Perhaps you’d like me to prove to you in person why I’m Emperor here. My suspension setup is more than good enough to erase an old FC from my rearview mirror!” The stranger looked back at Kyoichi with piercing eyes and a serious expression, one of a teacher about to scold a student for overstepping his boundaries. “You’d be a waste of my time.” And in no particular hurry the FC cruised off at a normal pace down Irohazaka. Sudo turned to watch the red FC and this disrespectful driver begin his deccent. It was then that he realized the gallery had been watching the issue for quite sometime and expected something to happen. There was no way he was about to let this outsider insult him and the Emperor’s legacy. Especially in front of all these people. A thousand eyes were focused on Sudo, expecting him to do something. If he didn't, his image would be tarnished, blemished by a stranger who had done nothing other than toss a few meaningless words around. “Screw this!” Sudo jumped into the Evo III and rocketed off after the FC as the crowd watched in shock and delight.The Evo was a monster on the downhill, devouring the distance between the two cars quickly and easily. The gap narrowed instantly as Kyoichi caught the slowly moving FC in a short straight before a hairpin. “Alright, stranger. Time for some Kyoichi Sudo instruction. Witness what my Evo III is made of!” The FC driver glanced in his mirror at the pair of flashing headlights breathing down his neck centimeters away from his bumper. He shook his head with a frown on his face. “Alright. I'll play your game. I don't want to, and I don't think you want me to either,” he chuckled. Kyoichi watched with satisfaction as the FC slowly crept away from his bumper. “Ha! I knew it, another torqueless rotary with a cocky driver!” Kyoichi depressed the throttle and was immediately back on the FC’s bumper with ease. He followed the FC into the corner and drifted parallel with the FC around the corner. “Not only are you slow in the straights, but you’re slow in the corners too! An outdated FC cant compete with my perfectly tuned Evo. Its YOU who’s the waste of my time. Time for me to end this and earn my glory,” Kyouichi said. Sudo buried the throttle as they entered the straightaway. He swung around the FC and began to rocket past, his 4G63 motor bellowing with raw power. the pass never came. Kyoichi looked over at the driver of the FC who was dead even with his Evo, staring him dead in the eye. To know exactly when to look over was a feat of timing, and being able to take his eyes off the intense winding road was the mark of a genius or a madman. It sent shivers down Kyoichi’s spine. Even at full throttle with all the immense horsepower and torque of his engine he could not pass the FC. Kyoichi’s blood was ice but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next as his entire night was shattered. The FC shot past with a burst of acceleration that put a three car length gap between the Evo and the FC. The acceleration was effortless and unstoppable. The FC had been holding back all along. Kyoichi watched in horror as a blue flame erupted from the FC’s exhaust as it downshifted and swayed into a drift in the opposite direction of the turn before whipping into an inertial drift through the hairpin, disappearing into the night by the next hairpin. Kyoichi slowed to a stop. He had been beaten on his home course by an FC driven by an outsider he had never seen before, moments after his record breaking run. It was too much. “Who the hell was that?” * “Hey Takumi! I’m not going to say it again! Get your butt down here, don’t make me come drag you out of bed!” There was no answer to his cry, and Bunta grumbled to himself as he trudged upstairs to wake Takumi. “That brat gets lazier every day,” Bunta muttered. He rounded the stairs just in time to see Takumi bolt from his room to the bathroom and immediately throw up in the sink. “Well that’s a good way to start the morning,” Bunta said dryly. Takumi glared at him as a trail of spit dangled from his lip before vomiting again. “Never mind. I’ll do the deliveries today,” Bunta said, watching as Takumi crawled thankfully back to bed. Bunta padded down the stairs with the paper cup in his hand, grabbed the keys for the loaded Trueno and walked outside. “It's been awhile since I’ve done the delivery. I wonder...” He settled into the Trueno’s highly-bolstered bucket seat and started the engine. He placed the paper cup full of water in the dashboard cup holder, even though it wouldn't be needed. Once the engine was warm he took off towards Mt. Akina, keeping the engine below eight thousand revolutions per minute as he made his way to the base of the mountain. Shifting into third, Bunta smiled and realized he was actually enjoying the change of pace. He missed doing the deliveries every now and then. Takumi needed the practice as much as possible, but it still felt good to shake off the rust. A hard uphill hairpin was coming up fast. He flew in and braked at the last possible second while heel-toe downshifting as fast as the water would allow and smoothly letting the rear of the Trueno hang out wide through the drift before pumping the throttle and rocketing into the next corner. As he began to floor the throttle for the short straight, he saw a pair of headlights whip around the hairpin behind him and rocket towards his front bumper as if there was a magnet drawing it closer. “Hmm...fast car,” Bunta observed. He upshifted and floored the gas pedal. It had been forever since he had raced someone uphill with the cup of water. It would be just the thing to stretch his muscles for the downhill. “This should be a challenge,” he said before glancing down at the water and smiling. A true challenge. The headlights eventually reached the bumper of the Trueno and closed in tight. This driver was different. He didn’t flash his lights. No incessant honking on the horn as a signal, nor was he swerving or attempting to whip around. It was the mark of a mature racer. Bunta and the mystery car charged full speed into an uphill tight left hairpin. Bunta checked the water in the cup with an automatic glance before abrubtly letting off the throttle, turning the wheel, and rolling back into the throttle again to sling the car into a graceful but high speed drift upward around the corner. An amazing sight to behold, and fun to perform. Bunta checked his rearview mirror again and, to his surprise, the headlights were still there. “Fast driver.” A few lazy sweepers passed by with the trailing car still glued to his bumper but not attempting to pass. It was almost as if he understood Bunta’s handicap and was deliberating whether or not to exploit it. The next hairpin was rapidly approaching. Bunta set up for the corner and heel-toed into a precision drift, again rotating the water in the cup carefully, but he saw a glimpse in his rearview mirror of his follower’s headlights shooting further to the outside. Bunta began to steepen his drift angle to block the pass, but ran out of room. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the pop-up headlights of a red vehicle staring at him through his driver side windows. Bunta knew he wasn’t trying to pass. There could be no mistaking it. Instead, it was almost as if the driver was trying to see inside the car, trying to see who he was driving against. “What are you after?” Bunta wondered. The chase continued in a controlled manner with the car glued to the Trueno’s bumper until Bunta reached the hotel at Lake Akina. As he was slowing down and signaling his turn his opponent finally came around at full throttle. Bunta listened to the sound of the rotary engine and the loud hiss of the blowoff valve as he caught sight of the red FC that had tailed him up the mountain. For the first time in a while Bunta smiled and felt genuine happiness as he watched a ghost from his past round a corner and disappear out of sight. “Well I’ll be damned.” After unloading the Trueno, Bunta cruised to Lake Akina’s shoreline and sat on the hood of the hachi-roku and lit up a cigarette. It had been awhile since he had taken in the night and the beauty of Akina. Usually he was driving too fast to appreciate how beautiful it truly was, and the encounter of this morning had put him in a reflective mood. Bunta heard a car pull up behind him and didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Rotary.” “Hey,” a deep voice from behind said. Not the voice Bunta remembered. It was a man’s voice now, no longer that of a young teenager’s. “You got any extra tofu? I’m in need of an early breakfast.” “Sorry, I'm fresh out. Just dropped off the deliveries at the hotel. You’ll have to come by the shop later this morning if you still want some. You should remember where it is.” Bunta still hadn’t turned around to face who he was talking to, but he didn't need to. “Damn, just my luck,” the voice said while walking towards Bunta until finally the man stood beside him, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the same stars Bunta was observing. “Oh well. I never was a big fan of your tofu anyway.” Fujiwara turned to look at the man who was now smirking so much he could hardly keep from laughing. “What kind of greeting is that?” Bunta chuckled as he stood up and faced him. The man beside him smiled as he reached out and hugged Bunta. In the privacy of the night, Bunta returned the affectionate embrace before stepping back to look at him. “How have you been, Kichirou?” Bunta chuckled as he ruffled the man’s hair. “I’m doing great actually. I figured it was about time to stop by and pay a visit to my old friend Fujiwara Bunta.” “It took you seventeen years to finally decide to pay me a visit?” “Well you sort of dropped off the face of the earth for awhile Bunta, and after that I was busy with life. I have a wife and a kid now.” “Is that so? So who’s the lucky lady?” Bunta asked politely. “Who do you think?” Kichirou asked sarcastically, smiling even as he said it. “That redhead always did have you whipped!” Bunta chuckled. The two laughed together before Bunta took another long drag from his cigarette. “You know the last time I saw you, Kichirou, you were eighteen and you only had your license a few months, but you were dead set on giving me hell and riding my bumper no matter how fast I drove.” “I was still nowhere as good as you Bunta,” Kichirou said truthfully. “I don’t know about that. You were good. Real good. I’m sorry I couldn’t have helped you out more than I did.” “Hey you’re responsible for who I am today. You taught me so much.” “I only helped you build on what you naturally had. You can’t teach natural talent. You were one of the few that had what it takes to make it as a racer. I was proud to have you under my wing, even if it was just for a short while.” “I still can’t believe you gave up your sponsorship to me. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know what I’d be doing with my life now. I can’t picture my life any other way than me racing cars,” Kichirou said. “You deserved it. Besides, it was time for me to settle down. I had a wife that needed me, and a son on the way. I couldn’t be running around risking my life in car races with a pregnant wife. Besides, it all worked out in the end.” “I guess you could say that it did. Still, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me, Fujiwara. I'm coming through the area and I'll be here for a few nights. Say, where's your son?” he asked. “Sick. He's been running a fever for a while now, and I was waiting to see when he would finally admit he was too sick to drive. He's a lot like you were, stubborn and fast.” “Good to see I'm not the only one. There seem to be a lot of hot-headed jerks out there, Bunta. I had a scrape with one of them on Irohazaka, driving an Evo III. Poor guy, he couldn't understand how I blew past him,” Kichirou chuckled. “I'm surprised to see you still driving the FC, although it's good to see you finally got it repainted. Have you done much to it since we last met?” Bunta asked. “You should know that better than me, old man. It's been roughly the same. I've changed out a few things over the years whenever something wears out, buying the latest and greatest gear as it hits the market, but I haven't gone crazy with it. You and I both know it's easier to destroy a car's balance than it is to improve it. I've done my best to keep reducing weight, increasing suspension travel, maximizing the contact patches. All the usual stuff. I can't believe this little hachi-roku is still alive!” he exclaimed, rapping on the roof with his knuckles. “It's seen a lot of damage,” Bunta replied. “I've replaced every body panel with carbon fiber over the past two years, lightened it as much as I could, stiffened it, and of course I put in the 4A-GE race motor. It's done well. It fell into the hands of a racing group for a while and they did a lot to it, but I fixed what they screwed up.” “That sounds familiar. You're so particular about your tuning setup, Bunta, I think you'd blame Toyota for doing a bad job building the car.” “Hmm. Maybe. Anyway, time for me to get back to the shop. Are you going to come and get some breakfast?” Bunta asked. “No, I hate tofu. Especially yours. I'll be around though, for at least a few days. I'd like to see how your son handles this hachi-roku. Well, ja na!” Bunta watched him go and privately hoped that Takumi would feel better soon. A run-in with his former pupil would do his son well. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 21 2008, 06:20 PM |
| A former pupil of Bunta? No wonder he spotted Kyouichi's suspension flaw and blew him away on the downhill! Really liking this one! Cant wait for the next chapter! Great job you two. Get well soon Takumi. |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 21 2008, 07:04 PM |
| This is freaking epicness! Just the first chapter, and I'm already blown away. Great work you two! Oh, and get better soon Takumi. The fic needs you |
| Posted by: s13_slider Mar 21 2008, 07:16 PM |
| Beautiful work so far!!!!!! |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Mar 21 2008, 07:49 PM |
| awesome!... hope there are alot of updates in this coming week since im finally on break. btw, does this continue from the end of your last fic, or is this a completely separate fic? |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 21 2008, 07:59 PM |
| This is intended as a separate fiction from everything else I've written, but red comet 7 had made a few references to some of my previous fics, so I guess it's somewhere in between. Updates will come as they can while still maintaining the current quality level. |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 21 2008, 08:36 PM |
sweet another fan fic. i like how it started off, it should be a good race  . |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Mar 21 2008, 08:40 PM |
| good to know... im sure anything you put out will be awesome, thx. |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 21 2008, 08:45 PM |
| thx: am i correct in guessing this is the fanfic that you're making along with red comet's help? |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 21 2008, 11:06 PM |
| yes this is my original idea, that THX is helping me bring to life, and it is supposed to be a continuation from THX's so far. im glad you like it... .....i think you're going to be a little surprised at who this MAJOR battle is actually between...  |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 22 2008, 04:42 AM | ||
well you also hav a great idea for a fanfic. i'll be pleasantly surprised to see who the battle is in between as i hav no clue who the red fc will be targeting. |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Mar 22 2008, 10:45 AM |
| ok, so the original idea for this fic was supposed to continue from THX's work... im just trying to get the facts straight, not to be all picky n shit. im certain thisll be great no matter what the original intentions were, i just like to keep a timeline of previous events in mind... my guess for the major battle is Kichirou vs Ryosuke... takumi isnt really a mastermind yet, and since Kichirou is one of Buntas former pupils and not some old rival, there really isnt anyone to match up against Bunta... yet? |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 22 2008, 11:07 AM |
| After announcing Downhill Specialists as my last fic, red comet 7 approached me with an idea of his own for a fic, asking me to bring it to life in my style. He provided a large amount of the material, most of which only needed very minor tweaking. It exists in the same universe as my other fics, but stays closer to Initial D canon than some of my own stuff. Should be an update tonight for those eager for it. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 22 2008, 11:24 AM |
| just a little forshadowing of Kichirou's character, think of him as a god like Toshia and God Foot, except in the prime of his life...not that old man stage yet... |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 22 2008, 02:54 PM |
| “Hey aniki, did you hear the news?” Keisuke asked as he flopped down on his brother's bed, leaning back with his hands behind his head in the confident and somewhat arrogant manner that he always projected. “I've heard a lot of news. What are you talking about?” Ryosuke replied, turning around in his chair and clasping his hands over one knee as he observed his brother. Keisuke squirmed under his older brother's analytical stare for a moment, a relic of his time racing under his brother's tutelage. It was the look of a teacher dealing with a recalcitrant student. “There's a red FC on Irohazaka that destroyed Kyouichi Sudo shortly after he set a new record on the course. I thought you might want to meet him,” Keisuke said. “It is rare to see someone using an FC. It would be nice to pick his brain over suspension settings. My fight with Sudo was difficult, it would be nice to make it a little easier. Not that the FC is my weak point,” Ryosuke added, blushing slightly. Keisuke noticed it even though the blush was gone in an instant, and smiled at his brother. Always defending the FC. “It is rare, you're right. He was last seen on Mt. Akina at four in the morning, and a red FC was spotted outside the Fujiwara Tofu Shop this afternoon, about half an hour ago. It appears that the driver is a former student of Fujiwara Bunta, if my intelligence is correct,” Keisuke said. Ryosuke arched an eyebrow at his brother. “Since when do you take such astute notes?” Ryosuke asked. “Since you chided me for not being able to analyze my opponents. Ever since I was first defeated by Fujiwara I've tried to emulate my big brother, even if I'm better looking,” Keisuke added with a laugh, walking out of the room and down to his FD. Ryosuke heard the car pull out of the driveway and leave before he decided on a course of action. * “Yo, Takumi, are you still sick?” Bunta asked as he walked upstairs, entering his son's room to find him awake and pulling on a clean shirt. “I'm better. I just needed to rest,” Takumi said, poking his head through the shirt collar and sniffling a bit. “Good. Go do the delivery, and take the Trueno.” “But today is the Impreza,” Takumi replied. “I know, but I loaded up the hachi-roku. Hurry up or I'll do the delivery myself.” Takumi grumbled to himself but trudged downstairs and out to the loaded Trueno, remarking that the car sounded a little bit different than normal. “Did you do something to the car?” he asked. “Just tightened your accelerator cable. It was a little loose. Now stop stalling and go drive,” Bunta chided, taking a quick glance at his watch. It would be a near thing if Takumi didn't leave within the next five minutes. Takumi grumbled some more and got in the car, chirping the rear wheels as he shot off down the street. Driving up Mt. Akina with the cup of water almost full to the brim Takumi slowly began to wake up. It was unusual to drive the Trueno out of rotation, considering how determined his father had been that he would change back and forth throughout the week. Playing favorites with a car was against his nature. Then again, so much was against his nature. That wicked fast Impreza was frightening for all its abilities and untapped potential. After unloading his precious cargo at the hotel, Takumi emptied out the car and looked at it for a few moments, his mind still a fuzzy blur from being sick. “Almost time to come pick up the empties,” he said. There was a stack of empty containers waiting somewhere in the hotel's kitchen, cleaned and drying out in anticipation for being picked up on Friday to start the cycle over again. He took a half-hearted step toward where they might be, thought better of it, and shut the hatch on the Trueno. Getting inside he started the engine, wished there were a radio, and put the car into gear, the heavy shifter snicking into first with rifle-like precision. “I wish I was driving the Impreza,” he grumped to himself, hitting the throttle with his heel and jamming his toes on the brakes to swing the car around a tight left turn, jamming down into second and revving the engine toward its eleven thousand revolution per minute redline. His surly mood evaporated as the engine sang, its power vibrating through the car and shaking the air inside his lungs. It was an impressive motor, responsive and quick to the touch, monstrously powerful but lacking in torque. For a one point six liter four cylinder engine though, it was a real masterpiece, even if it hated the cold and needed frequent oil changes to keep it in prime condition. Drifting through another corner, experimenting with the one-handed steering Joushima had shown him, Takumi noticed a set of eerily familiar headlights in his rearview mirror. “Ryosuke?” he wondered, keeping his pace. If it was Ryosuke, he could catch up whenever he pleased. The car drew up closer and closer, silently hovering behind his bumper so close that the Trueno's brake lights lit up the face of the driver behind him. It wasn't Ryosuke, and it wasn't the white FC. The stranger was driving a red FC of the same year as his mentor's and driving it in a similar manner, explaining the moment of mistaken identity but not revealing who he truly was. “Let's see if you can keep up,” Takumi said, downshifting to bring the tachometer needle screaming up into the engine's powerband, a burst of flame belching from the hachi-roku's tailpipe. The driver of the FC smiled slightly and rolled into his throttle, the FC steamrolling forward thanks to its massive quantities of turbocharged torque. The two cars barreled down the mountain, Takumi fighting harder and harder to gain a lead on the unshakable pursuer seemingly glued to his tail. The two cars screamed through a tight right-hand hairpin, the hachi-roku screaming sideways in a perfect zero-counter drift, the hallmark of Fujiwara's skill. The panda Trueno kept up the drift through a short straight and powered through the next corner, a feat Takumi could achieve only through intense concentration and effort. Kichirou's eyes widened a bit as he witnessed the incredible skill shown to him and pulled off the same drift as effortlessly as someone would pull on their coat. Takumi began to sweat, his heart racing and pounding so hard in his chest that he could feel it thump against his ribs over and over again, threatening to hammer out of his body as it pumped his body full of adrenaline. This was driving! Takumi floored the engine, winding it up to 11,000 RPMs before upshifting, slamming into the next gear without taking his foot off the throttle, relying on the heavy duty clutch to absorb the horrific shock without breaking. The rear tires barked as power was forced upon them, but they didn't slip, instead pushing the AE86 downward faster than Takumi had ever attempted before. Takumi felt the rush of adrenaline soaking through every muscle in his body, his knuckles turning white and fear screaming at him to let off the throttle, to slow down and let the incredibly fast FC pass him by. It was unbelievable. He was rushing down Mt. Akina faster than he had ever dared before, the gentle familiar corners looming large and hideously dangerous, threatening to tear the fragile hachi-roku apart if he missed his line by a fraction of a millimeter. With all the precision years of driving the same path had given him Takumi kept his foot to the floor even though every fiber in his being was crying out, was screaming and begging and pleading with him to slow down. Hitting the brakes hard the Trueno's rotors glowed brilliant cherry red as they shed the car's massive speed, letting Fujiwara kick the clutch and drift through the next corner with his rear bumper millimeters away from the guardrail. Kichirou let out a silent whistle in admiration, realizing that he was watching something truly amazing unfold before his eyes. Takumi was running scared, unable to believe his chaser was still able to keep up. The man had to have incredible skill to drive so quickly and stay so close on a mountain that Takumi had made his own, a road where he knew every bump, dip, scrape, gouge, and oil stain like his own body. The two cars, locked in mortal combat, streaked down Mt. Akina, rapidly approaching the five hairpins that had made the course a legend and Fujiwara Takumi the target for anyone who wanted to be known as a real driver. Approaching the first he hooked the AE86's tires into the gutter and swung through with the throttle almost completely open, popping out just in time to run for the next. The red FC followed suit, remaining glued to his rear bumper. Sweating, Fujiwara attempted the exit-oriented gutter technique, and to his shock, the red FC copied it perfectly, popping out of the gutter a little bit sooner than the hachi-roku in order to accelerate to an even faster speed, the car's low red nose creeping past Takumi's rear wheel. Throwing it through the remaining gutters it seemed useless. No matter what he did, the stranger in the red FC copied it perfectly, doing it better than he did, but holding back. “You've proven you're a faster driver. Why won't you pass me?” Takumi wondered, shifting into third and barreling down the short straight. They were coming up on the final few turns, the next one rapidly approaching with the FC still behind him, centimeters from his bumper if not less. They screamed through the turn where three lanes converged into one, the hachi-roku on the inside and the FC drifting toward the outside. With a short burst of acceleration the red FC finally made his move, effortlessly sweeping past Takumi on the outside, gaining a tremendous amount of distance down the short straight, and rounding the final corner five car lengths ahead of the panda Trueno. Takumi, completely shattered at having been beaten so soundly, could only limp home, his eyes wide open in shock, his body trembling from the adrenaline that was now draining from his system, leaving his hands and feet achingly cold and stiff. Parking the AE86 in the alley next to the tofu shop Takumi remained inside the car, letting it idle as he thumped his head against the steering wheel, trying to calm his body's screaming nerves enough for him to get out of the car. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, settling on his stomach. Opening the door frantically he stumbled out of the car, fell to his knees as the seatbelt caught around his arm, and vomited on the ground, his overstressed body unable to contain itself anymore. “I see you met Kichirou Tsubasa,” Bunta said as he brought his son a cup of cold water and a piece of bread. Takumi rinsed out his mouth with the water, then took a bite of the bread to settle his stomach. “Who is he?” Takumi asked, completely unsurprised that his father knew who the driver was. “Before your time. He was a pupil, a son before I had my own. A great driver with natural talent who I coached, and eventually he became a pro driver. He's been racing professionally for many years now, has a family of his own. He's visiting the area, and I wanted him to meet you. Come inside, he'll be here in a few minutes.” Takumi was sitting on the couch slowly feeling like himself again when there was a knock at the door. “So you're Fujiwara Takumi, eh?” Kichirou asked as soon as he was inside the door. Takumi rose to his feet and nodded. “You drove well, I was impressed. I thought it was your old man for a while there. No one corners like he does, but you're almost there.” Takumi felt a smile spread across his face at the sincere praise, a smile that was magnified when he saw his father's put-out expression. “You were incredible,” Takumi said honestly. “I've never been pushed like that on Mt. Akina before. How long have you been driving?” “Oh, years,” Kichirou replied casually. “It's all been in that FC. I think I've spent more of my life inside that car behind the wheel then I have doing anything else. It's a fact my wife resents sometimes, sweet though she is.” “You sound like Ryosuke,” Takumi said, laughing to himself. Kichirou, as calm as he appeared, stiffened slightly in his seat. “Who's he?” Kichirou asked casually. “He runs Project D, it's the racing team I'm a part of. I take care of the downhill while his brother handles the uphill. We're undefeated at the moment,” Takumi said, somewhat proud to tell this stranger of his achievements. Kichirou nodded, thinking to himself. “What kind of car does he drive?” he asked. “A white FC.” Kichirou stood up quickly and headed for the door, his hand reaching out for the knob before Bunta cleared his throat. “Going somewhere?” “Yeah. Remember when I said I was going to be here for a few days? There's a reason. Bunta, watch out for that son of yours. He's going to kick your butt one of these days, and it's going to be sooner rather than later.” With that he quickly passed through the door, shutting it behind him, and disappeared. Takumi heard the sound of a rotary engine start up and drive off, tires chirping at every shift. Turning to his father, Takumi was about to ask a question when Bunta spoke for him. “If I had to guess, he's here to sign your friend up to a racing contract.” |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 22 2008, 06:53 PM |
| And another attempt at getting Ryousuke to sign a racing contract. Or is it? Another well done chapter. I'm kooking forward to the next. |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 22 2008, 07:45 PM |
nice race between the fc and the 86 . lol everytime that i click on this thread i analyse the size of the scroll bar on the right side of the screen to see if there are any updates. looks like ryosuke will hav a good battle though the winner is ambigious atm  . |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Mar 22 2008, 07:56 PM |
| awesome update, cant wait for the next one... |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 23 2008, 07:12 AM |
| the next chapter's are where it starts to really get interesting... |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 23 2008, 07:37 AM | ||
All the more to look forward to  |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 23 2008, 07:57 AM |
| Sweet battle between the FC and 86! I wonder if there will be a FC vs FC battle?  |
| Posted by: Rudy Mar 23 2008, 08:03 AM |
| Wow, this fic is so good that I had to crawl out of my timid little Carbon Expressway foxhole and peer into this one. Those driving scenes are inspirational; I intend to at least match if not exceed on their stressed detail. Keep it up! And don't forget about mine, Seven. (Kinda funny... grinning about the AE86 being written as the fine tuned race machine it eventually became while actually writing it myself as a rusty 23-year old piece... ) |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 23 2008, 12:43 PM |
| Ryosuke stared at his FC, his eyes focused intently on the hood, pondering the state of his car. It was a difficult question to ask, and painful to probe. The FC, like all FC3S RX-7s, had started out in life designed to be a grand touring car, capable of decent handling and a good turn of acceleration, but not the bare-bones sportscar that the SA22 had been, or the FD had proven to be. It was a paradox, the middle model that was more powerful than the old one but heavier than the new one. The suspension was originally designed for relaxed cruising, and it had taken some serious and expensive work to convert it from its casual stance to the aggressive one necessary for tackling the touge. The expensive coilovers had been one of the biggest changes, allowing Ryosuke to endlessly tune the damping and rebound as well as switching from the softer stock springs to far more aggressive ones that had changed the FC's ride and handling immensely. After that it had snowballed, with adjustable swaybars front and rear, engine work, transmission work, until everything that could possibly be refined, strengthened, or lightened had been. The white FC sitting there in the driveway of his parents' home was completely different from what it had been on the showroom floor years before. Thinking back, Ryosuke realized he was completely different too. He chuckled and reached out a hand to touch the FC's gleaming white hood before walking around, trailing his finger along the fender, opening the door, and sitting inside. Resting in the supportive bucket seat he started the engine and listened to the sound of the rotary engine spinning and humming to itself. The porting job had set him back a decent amount, but that was three years ago and it had helped him tackle the next level of drivers out there. His triumphant ascent to the peak of the street racing world had left a number of previously-revered drivers tossed to the wayside and forgotten. It was a fate to be avoided at all costs, and it was one of the driving forces behind Project D. Even when his personal records were blasted into the dust by newer drivers with better machines and more skill, the legacy of Project D's year of domination wouldn't be easily forgotten. It was the first attempt by anyone in Japan to create such a small team with such concentrated power, and even when other teams had bested their records, they would be forever noted in street racing history as the first to pave the way and race across all of Japan. Sighing, he shifted the FC into gear, backed out of the driveway, and made for Mt. Akagi. * Bunta stood outside the tofu shop in the early morning, smoking a cigarette when a familiar red FC pulled back up to the shop, arriving shortly after the 86 had left. Walking over as the driver's window rolled down, Bunta leaned down and smiled at Kichirou's grim face. “So, did you find him?” he asked, knowing the answer before his friend answered. “No, I went to Akagi last night but no luck. I found an interesting yellow FD though, and had fun with him for about fifteen minutes. He's got spunk too, I like him. I'm guessing that was his brother, but I'm looking for Ryosuke himself.” Bunta let out a long trail of smoke, grasping through his memory for an answer. “I think that's Takahashi Keisuke, he's sort of Takumi's friend. He was the uphill specialist from what I gathered from Takumi, like his older brother but more aggressive.” “Hmm. I bet they were a lethal combination. No wonder they were able to succeed in their efforts with so few setbacks,” Kichirou said. “Yeah, he's definitely got talent. Of course not quite as talented as Ryosuke though,” Bunta said, smiling at the memory. Kichirou looked at him carefully, examining his mentor. “And how would you know that?” he asked curiously. Bunta finished another long drag from his cigarette before responding. “Because I lost to the brat on Mt. Akina's downhill.” “Are you telling me THE Fujiwara Bunta in the legendary hachi-roku lost to Takahashi Ryosuke?” Kichirou asked, completely shocked at the surprising development. “Calm down, Tsubasa. He didn't beat me in the 86. I was driving my Impreza. He barely crossed the line before I did, and completely totaled his car in the process. He was pried out of his car and carried to the hospital. I wouldn't exactly call it a solid victory. Besides, if I had been driving the hachi-roku I would have beat the pants off of the kid. You know that.” “Okay, well that's not too bad. But still, the fact that he gave you a decent run for your money is quite impressive. Even if it wasn't the hachi-roku, you still raced on Akina,” Kichirou said, his mind turning over this new information and trying to process what it meant for his mission to find and sign the young man. To be willing to destroy his car and hospitalize himself in order to win was a frightening sign of devotion. “He's a talented young man. He has a lot of guts," Bunta said before taking one last drag from the cigarette, throwing it to the ground and grinding it out under his foot. “But...he's still missing something..." Bunta added, almost under his breath. Kichirou looked down from the stars to give a slight smirk of acknowledgement to Bunta. His friend, unable to see the smirk, continued. “The thing is that even though he's fast, there are points in his technique where you can see and feel that he knows the line that he should take, but doesn't fully know how to go about taking it. He still hasn't bonded with the car on a physical level to the point he can make the car do anything he wants. There are certain techniques that fall into your arsenal once your car becomes a part of you like a part of your own body. That's one of the reasons Takumi has progressed as far as he has. That car is a part of him. That's also why I would have blown away Ryosuke in the 86. Experience and the bond you have with your car are just as important as the money and labor you put into it. Until you're one with your machine, there's a limit to how fast you can drive. I'm sure you know that, Kichirou.” “Hmm,” was all Kichirou could say. Both knew what Bunta had said was the truth. It was one of the reasons his red FC was so fatal to those who battled against it. “Ryosuke is talented and has helped Takumi greatly. I think that if Ryosuke can finally bond with his vehicle the way Takumi has, he will find new information and techniques and his speed will increase again. I'm hoping he can pass down some of what he learns to Takumi. It will significantly speed up his learning process. If he wants to go pro one day he's going to need all the help he can get.” “Well, how are you expecting Ryosuke to learn that type of control and those techniques?” Kichirou asked his mentor. “I was hoping you could do me a favor and give him a crash course by beating the hell out of him for me. I would do it myself in the hachi-roku, but I'm getting a bit old for this kind of thing. I think it would mean more if his defeat came at the hands of someone driving the exact same car,” Bunta said. Kichirou's smile disappeared quickly at the suggestion. “I'd love to oblige, but I came here to recruit a racing driver, not get into a kid fight. Besides, I don't want there to be any hard feelings between Ryosuke and myself if he's going to race with my team. Come on, Bunta. Beating him might actually send him further away from the idea of pro racing. He might not think he's ready and just run away.” “Or it may give him a stronger reason to pursue it, once he sees what's become of you after going pro.” As Bunta finished the sentence he began to hack and cought violently, finally unable to hide it from his young friend. It was uncontrollable, and it was painful for Kichirou to watch his friend double over from the force and pain of the cough. All he could do was place a hand on Bunta's heaving back and wait for it to stop. Slowly Bunta stood up and tried to regain composure. “How long has this been going on?” Kichirou asked intensely, concern mingled with anger on his expressive face. Bunta feigned a sheepish expression and held out his hands in a gesture of forgetfulness. “A while now, it isn't an issue.” “Have you been to a doctor about this?” Kichirou asked. “Of course not,” Bunta laughed. “You know I hate those places. Hospitals are for the dying.” “Bunta, you need to get that cough of yours checked out. With as many cigarettes as you smoke, your health could be in serious danger.” “I'll be alright. You sound like an old woman, worrying like that over nothing.” “I lost my father to cancer. I don't want to lose my mentor and friend, too.” “I said I'm fine!” Bunta growled. There was an awkward silence. The tension was thick in the air as the two stood there, minds whirling with the words that had just passed between them. Finally Kichirou broke the silence. “Fine. You want me to race Ryosuke, I'll do it. But only under the condition that when I win, you go see a doctor and get checked out. I think that's fair enough, don't you?” Bunta stared at the concrete of the sidewalk, then at the red FC in front of him. Finally his eyes turned back to Kichirou's stubborn stare. “If not for yourself Bunta, do it for Takumi. You know what I went through. Save him from that. Please.” Bunta turned his gaze toward the stars for a few moments before finally turning back to Kichirou, shaking his head as he did so. “Fine. It's a deal.” * Ryosuke started up his engine after letting it cool down, tired of the mountain breeze messing with his hair as he sat brooding on the peak of Mt. Akagi. Shrugging his shoulders he fastened his harness, glanced over the information pouring in from his guages, and shifted into first. Letting out the heavy clutch he felt the responsive rotary engine's revs dip as the friction point was met, and then began feeding in more throttle as he let the clutch out, pointing the car downhill and traveling as fast as he dared during daylight hours. The FC was battered and sore, it was true, but it had done well, and after being repaired it was impossible to detect any weakness in the frame. The car was, to all his senses, in perfect condition. So why did it feel like it was lacking something? At the bottom of the mountain he paused for a moment to let the engine cool, idly wondering if he needed to upgrade the radiator yet again, before tackling the uphill. It was a way of attacking a problem, he realized. Unable to bring the issue directly to his mind, Ryosuke dove deeply into the art of driving, his body and mind focusing so intently on manipulating the car that all his troubles melted away, their chains slipping from his soul and casting him free, free to race with every ounce of his being. Diving into one particular corner, a favorite of his, Ryosuke pushed the clutch in, slapped the shifter into second, popped the clutch out again and buried the throttle to the floor, smiling broadly at the sound of the screaming rotary engine and the whoosh of the turbo. It was on the fifth pass down the mountain that he realized someone was attempting to tail him. “Fast car on the straights, good handling, familiar,” Ryosuke said, analyzing it intently through his rearview mirror. He let off the throttle, hearing his blowoff valve vent to the atmosphere, letting the mystery car catch up. Kichirou felt somewhat nervous. It had been difficult to catch up to the white FC on the previous two passes, and now there was his prey, slowing down for him to close the distance. Tucking in close behind in his standard attack position, Kichirou braced himself. Akagi was different from Akina, and it had been quite some time since he had raced there, putting him at a slight disadvantage. The driver's style was unique, Kichirou noticed, different from Bunta or Takumi and far more restrained now that he was conscious of being tailed. “So, are you really him?” Kichirou asked, noting the license plate and the modifications of the car. Delving deeper into the tuning of the vehicle from the way it reacted to the road and the driver's inputs, Kichirou whistled privately to himself. The white FC was a mirror image of his own red RX-7, right down to the camber of the rear tires and the response of the turbo. It had to be Takahashi Ryosuke, no one else could tune a car like that and drive it with such incredible skill, not even his younger brother or Fujiwara Takumi, although the young son of Bunta was incredibly close. The two FC3S RX-7s screamed through the sweeper in a tight parallel drift, their mirrors almost rubbing as the two cars countersteered and shot down the straight, revs rising in sync and gears changing within milliseconds of each other. Kichirou felt as if he was racing against a mirror image, a feeling enhanced when both cars hit the brakes and slowed down at the exact same rate for the next corner. Taking his eyes off the street for a moment Kichirou thought he could recognize the tire tread as the same kind as his own, his smile growing larger as he freely laughed, plummeting down the mountain in an increasingly desperate battle. Glancing over, he saw the slim young man behind the wheel of the RX-7 and remembered the photograph he had been given of Takahashi. His identity now fully confirmed, Kichirou strove to keep close to Ryosuke as the two sliced and diced down the mountain, each one driving their car to the limit of their abilities. It was a close battle, and when the two reached the bottom of the mountain Kichirou had made no advance but had lost no ground to the street king. Unable to pass him, Kichirou watched in vain as Ryosuke drove off, his white FC quickly disappearing at one of the many intersections. Frustrated, he slammed his hand against the steering wheel, hung his head, and then swung his own car, hot and in need of a cool-down, toward the Fujiwara Tofu Shop. Pulling in front of the store just in time to see Bunta walking out, Kichirou parked the FC but left it running, getting out of the car to speak with his mentor. "You look a little hot under the collar," Bunta said. "I was just about to do the delivery. Want to come?" |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 23 2008, 03:10 PM |
| Schweeeeeeeet! Ryousuke and Kichirou are evenly matched at Akagi it seems. Cant wait for the next chapter! |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 23 2008, 04:38 PM |
| ooooooooo. the smoking is finally taking place here interesting. |
| Posted by: Drew Mar 23 2008, 08:14 PM |
| Very well written, you two! As said before by Reiji, the detail is immaculate! Keep it up! |
| Posted by: tiQlado Mar 23 2008, 08:42 PM |
| WOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I don't know why, but for some twisted reason, I'm rooting for Kichirou.  For both Bunta and Ryousuke's sakes, I guess.Great story, dude! |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 23 2008, 09:33 PM |
at this point i dont know who to root for either, both have impressive backgrounds  . |
| Posted by: xmark Mar 23 2008, 10:53 PM |
| Damn! I wish your fics can be animated... Can somebody translates this to Japanese and submit it to Shuichi Shigeno, this will be a great story line in next stage of Initial D... Keep up the good work, God of Fics  |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 24 2008, 01:14 AM |
| And all that smoking finally takes effect. I hope Bunta doesn't die too early. I wonder why he's such a compulsive smoker in the first place. None of the other characters in Initial D smoke as much as he does. For Takumi and Bunta's sake, I hope Kichirou wins. And I hope Bunta keeps his promise if Kichirou does win. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Mar 24 2008, 08:31 AM |
wow this is a amazing fan fic, let Bunta just have a cold, he cant go  keep up the great work  |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 24 2008, 08:32 AM |
| Well I'm really glad you all like it so far! It's great that I can finally see this come to life. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Mar 24 2008, 10:06 AM |
| Great fanfic so far you two!!! Surprisingly quick on how you two can collaborate and updates! |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Mar 25 2008, 11:50 AM |
| any updates? |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 25 2008, 12:53 PM |
| Well I just wrote half of a long chapter that THX has read over. He's going to tweak it, and I still have to finish the other half. As I continue with the story I begin to realize that this will become a LONG fic because there are so many things to cover and tell. Expect the first half of the next chapter by tomorrow. THX is a busy guy lol |
| Posted by: Flex. Mar 25 2008, 12:54 PM |
| Let em work at their own pace Rick, relax, here, take this *injects you with heroine* Feelin any better now? THX, Cometman, how about a big fricken SWEEEEETT from me |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 25 2008, 01:08 PM |
| Thanks a lot for the support it means a lot. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 25 2008, 02:36 PM |
| Here's an update! So I kind of skipped class and my hands are sore from data entry all day at work (whine whine whine) but red comet 7 provided me with a huge amount of material, so here's the next chapter. Enjoy! ********************** “What's that?” he asked, walking toward the outlandish shape hunkered down in the driveway, running his hand over the bulging fender and admiring the gargantuan scoop mounted on the blue hood, balanced by the massive spoiler out back. “This is my car. I got it when Takumi was using the 86 too much. It's all wheel drive, easy to handle.” “Can I follow in the FC?” Kichirou asked hopefully. “Suit yourself” Bunta replied, grunting as he slid into the heavily-bolstered driver seat of his blue Impreza coupe. Bunta and Kichirou rocketed off towards Mt. Akina at the same pace they did the first time they had reunited, a speed rarely seen exhibited by any single driver, much less two driving in tandem with no visible space between their cars during some of the corners. The mountain became ablaze as once again two of the greatest drivers to ever turn a wheel in anger upon a mountain pass took to the road in their incredible machines, so different and yet so similar. Two gods of slightly different eras, separated by a little under two decades, drifting in harmony and defying the odds of physics, logic, and sanity. The road was their playground, their kingdom alone. One was an aging man with a crippling cough whipping through the corners in a three hundred horse Impreza, shifting gears as if it was an afterthought as he lit up another cigarette, while the other was a man on the verge of having a complete family and the responsibilities that came with it, a man who had to race in order to feel truly alive, continually putting his life on the line in order to truly feel what it meant to live. They were born to run free in the night, free of the chains of responsibility and normalcy. Arriving at the hotel, Kichirou helped Bunta unload the tofu and carry it inside the hotel, admiring the building as they silently worked. “Did they remodel?” he asked as they stood quietly in the silent kitchen, waiting for the chef's stamp of approval on the tofu. “They had a fire a few years ago, and they took the chance to improve it,” Bunta replied, silently admiring the vast expanse of stainless steel cookware and the spotless kitchen, so very much bigger than his own. With their task complete, they cruised to Lake Akina for a much needed rest and for some crucial engine cool down time before attacking the downhill. Bunta once again lit a cigarette, while Kichirou glared at him angrily. Bunta cocked an eyebrow. “What? You haven’t won yet,” he replied dryly. Kichirou only shook his head at the trademark bull-headed stubborn attidude of Fujiwara. “So this is your new ride, huh?” Kichirou asked as he walked close to the Impreza and began studying it, lying on the ground and wiggling underneath the car to study the prop shaft and axles, sliding around to poke at the chassis braces, squatting at bizarre angles to peek through the wheels at the suspension components. Bunta felt a slight smile cross his lips at his friend's birdlike attitude, hopping from one place to the other, almost as if he were pecking out the car's many secrets. “Yeah, it’s a nice car. It’s easy to drive. I’m too old to have to concentrate so much these days. It gets the job done,” Bunta stated as he took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from Kichirou so he wouldn't complain. The younger man caressed the ventilated hood, eyeing the massive scoop appreciatively. “So what makes this thing so special that it’s worthy of a Fujiwara’s touch?” he asked eagerly, excited by the information he had been able to see during his short examination. “Wanna find out?” Bunta asked coolly, dropping the cigarette and grinding it out underneath his foot, clapping his hands clean as he did so. “Ha! Sure, why not? It's been a long time since I've fainted in your car,” Kichirou said, rubbing the spot on his head where he had received a shrewd bump, decades ago when he had first ridden with Fujiwara Bunta in his gleaming new AE86. Bunta hopped into the driver’s seat of the Impreza with a surprisingly nimble spring in his step and snatched his harness down over his chest, buckling the massive bands as Kichirou did the same. Kichirou was having a hard time not bursting into laughter from the excitement of it all. Something about his pupil made Bunta feel like a kid again and it made him smile, reflecting on the past. Remembering the past was something Bunta usually wasn’t too fond of for a number of reasons, but remembering the way he used to drive when he was young cast a happy glow on his face and a cocky grin on his lips. Fujiwara revved the engine to its redline and dropped the clutch, rocketing off at breakneck speed with the tires screaming. He shifted gears faster than usual, the tires barking as they were fed great gobs of torque. He felt young again, happy, energized. His foot work became even faster, his steering sharper and more accurate. He began to drive with all the energy he had from his early twenties, back when he was actively racing, back when he had something to prove and nothing to lose. Something to prove not only to himself but the world around him. Racing was where he belonged and he would stop at nothing until he was the very best, the undefeatable king of the streets. For the first time since Bunta could remember he drove with everything he had and nothing could make him hold back. He was racing an invisible rival, a man long since dead, picturing his first race. He felt the intensity that he cherished astThe adrenaline he was addicted to pounded through his veins. Bunta felt as though he had been dipped in sacred waters, cleansing the rust and the effects of the years off of him, leaving him the battle-hardened youth he had once been. A hard right approached with insane speed, faster than the AE86 could ever have attempted. Bunta’s grip loosened on the wheel, his left hand ready to fly, until finally he hit the brakes at the last possible second, slapping the transmission into second gear so fast that his hand became nothing more than an unfocused blur of motion across the shift knob. The rear differential locked and the car whipped violently but precisely into a drift of such incredible speed that as Bunta floored the gas pedal the two inside tires rose off the ground a few centimeters. Balancing the throttle he kept the car up on two wheels and glanced over at his friend riding in the passenger seat. Instead of the normal shock and fear that was shown by most of his passengers he was delighted to see his companion laughing hysterically. “Is that all you got old man?!” Kichirou cried, his hand wrapped tight around the door handle, his knee braced against the transmission tunnel. Bunta knew he was kidding, but to an old man who now had the teen inside of him set ablaze, this made more than enough of a worthy challenge. Bunta flew out of the hairpin corner approaching the 180 KPH mark in the straight away, shifting gears as fast as he could without overwhelming the transmission, the throttle wide open the entire time. The corner was rapidly approaching on the dark horizon with plenty of room, but for a Fujiwara normal rules did not apply. The long straight at such an insane speed now became an early corner entrance as Bunta gave a hard jab to the brake pedal and a slight tilt of the steering wheel. The car was now sliding in an apparently uncontrolled skid down the straight, all four tires churning smoke as they fought desperately for traction. Rather than try and recover Bunta kept the throttle to the floor as the car flew sideways down the straight away, the rear bumper almost brushing the guard rail, until it finally reached the true corner’s exit. “GO!” Kichirou screamed in excitement as if he could read Bunta’s mind. The straight away drift was not intended to be kept all the way through the corner. It was to set the car up with so wide of an entry angle that the car could then accelerate through the hairpin almost as if it were another straight. Bunta eased off the throttle for a split second to let the tires regain grip before flooring the pedal again and hovering the inside front tire over one of the famous gutters of the five hairpins rather than hooking it at full throttle. The lines that Bunta began to run would have blown Takumi’s mind had he been with them, and made him question everything he thought he knew. The skill and mastery over the vehicle and road that Bunta portrayed was a crystal clear picture of what Takumi would one day become, a speed demon that could mold car and road to his will. Bunta continued down the mountain at knuckle-whitening speed until he reached the bottom and snatched the hand brake, swinging the Impreza around and rocketing back up the mountain in the same manner he had descended. The two racers laughed as they enjoyed the pure and simple pleasures of driving for joy and excitement. They quickly reached Lake Akina again, the Impreza finally a clear object rather than a blurred moving figure, resting now as it cooled down. Kichirou jumped out of the car before it had come to a complete stop, pumping his fists and laughing. Bunta got out of the car and lit another cigarette, his face an immovable wall of stone as his friend jumped around excitedly, running toward the beach and whooping loudly. “Hmph…ha…haha,” Bunta chuckled as he watched his friend run, until he could no longer contain his laughter. The hearty laugh turned into a desperate cough, a violent hacking wheeze that turned his lips blue with the strain. Shaking his head, he leaned against the car, glanced at the cigarette, and let it fall. “Bunta, I’d say you still got it my friend!” Kichirou shouted as he ran back to the two cars. “I haven’t made a run like that in years. I’d forgotten what got me into this sport in the first place. Thanks for the reminder, Kichirou,” Bunta said, enjoying his pupil's unfeigned delight. “No problem at all!” Kichirou replied as he reached out and shook Bunta’s hand much in a way a high school basketball player would congratulate his team mate. The night finally became quiet save for the sound of the Impreza's engine ticking from the heat. “So I’m guessing you found Ryosuke,” Bunta said, the first to break the silence. Kichirou looked down solemnly before peering back to his stationary FC. “Yeah, I did. He’s fast Bunta, incredibly fast. I couldn’t pass him. He put up a good fight. I’m not so sure I’m cut out for this stuff anymore.” “There’s two reasons you didn’t blow past him. First, it’s Akagi. How many years has it been since you set foot on Akagi?” Bunta asked. “I’d say at least a decade and a half,” Kichirou said, suddenly feeling very old. “Exactly. That’s the brat’s home course. Akagi to Ryosuke is like Akina to Takumi. I’d say you did pretty good sticking to his bumper on a course you haven’t touched in fifteen years.” “I guess…” Kichirou finally said, still doubting himself. “And the second reason you didn’t beat him is because you’re driving wrong.” “What?” Kichirou cried. “You’ve been running those pro races for too long. You’ve been forgetting your roots. What makes you so special, Kichirou, is that you’re a born natural street specialist. That was apparent from the first time I drove with you. That’s why I took you under my wing. That’s where your speed comes from. If you chased Ryosuke using solely the techniques you’ve developed on the circuit, then you only gave Ryosuke fifty percent of your true speed.” Kichirou was now staring at the FC with burning intensity. Bunta could read it in his eyes, nodding in approval as Kichirou suddenly realized the true purpose of his machine and the perfection it had attained. “Kichirou, you know that it's true. You know you’re much better than that. I think you just need to shake the rust off in the places that really count.” Bunta began to walk towards the FC, opening the door and settling himself into the aggressive bucket seat. “Get in, it's time to get you driving fast again.” Kichirou approached the menacing red FC with trembling hands, for the first time truly afraid of his car and its enormous potential. With the incredible show from Bunta, how could he possibly stack up? How could a pro racer remember how to drive on the street, with all the madness and barely-controlled insanity that it required? Putting his key into the ignition he depressed the clutch and started the car. The engine idled quietly, murmuring to itself through the open exhaust as it warmed up and built oil pressure. “Forget everything you learned on the circuit. Remember seventeen years ago, remember our battle. You can be faster,” Bunta said, clicking his harness and falling into silence. Kichirou gulped, then revved the engine and took off into the night. Diving through the first corner Bunta shook his head. “You're using grip. Don't. Throw yourself out there, push yourself and the car,” he ordered. “But drift is slower!” Kichirou responded, shifting up as he barreled toward the next corner. It had been a long time since he had driven Akina every day, but to forget the winding torturous curves would be like forgetting his name. The course was burned into his mind, every corner bearing a special place in his memory. “Ryosuke isn't looking for speed. He's looking for control. If you can control your car better than he can control his, you'll have his interest,” Bunta replied. Kichirou kept the throttle open as he approached the next corner, a giant sweeper. His heart began to race, his brain screaming to hit the brakes and slow down. Ignoring the warnings shouted by every fiber of his being he kept his foot down, trusting in his car to pull him through. Turning the wheel he pumped the throttle and initiated his drift. Off the road, hidden halfway behind a tree, Ryosuke watched the red FC as it hurtled through the corner. He felt an eyebrow raise on its own as the sight intrigued him. The stranger was being coached by Fujiwara Bunta. "A challenge." * |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 25 2008, 03:19 PM |
| So Ryousuke was watching Kichirou eh? Its getting so mind numbing thinking about what could happen in the next chapter!!! And Bunta in the Impreza... madness.  |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 25 2008, 03:27 PM |
| that's just half of one chapter. lol the next half is gonna really have yall hooked. Kichirou's decent. shaking the rust off. |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Mar 25 2008, 03:52 PM | ||
looks like ninja Ryosuke is back. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 25 2008, 05:10 PM |
| Ninja Ryosuke can see your driving line with his eyes closed! Ninja Ryosuke knows ALL the braking zones! Ninja Ryosuke doesn't have a reflection in rearview mirrors! White FC RX-7s are the new katana! |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 25 2008, 05:22 PM |
| hey quit playin ninja and check your PM's THX! |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 25 2008, 05:48 PM | ||
sweet chapter RC7 and thx, how long will it take to remove the hook from my mouth?? i see a long line up of ppl who need to have the hooks removed also lined up in front of me . |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 25 2008, 05:54 PM |
| if yall are lucky you may get the next half of the chapter. lol we'll have to see... |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 25 2008, 06:38 PM |
| That's. . . Just one half. . . ? I honestly never noticed. Must've been the great writing blinding my eyes towards that fact. Bunta's driving is absolutely insane! The only time I ever drifted while on two wheels was in TOCA Race Driver 3, where I hit the curb while sliding the Impreza. And that game doesn't have the realistic physics it claims to have. Yay! Ninja Ryousuke's back! If his FC is his katana. What are his shuriken? I think his shuriken are his drifts. But I could be wrong. |
| Posted by: Pikachu_Fragger Mar 25 2008, 06:39 PM |
| I'm with everyone on this when I say: /R/ MOAR  |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 25 2008, 06:43 PM |
| well just keep THX icon say's ON very soon. i finished the other half for yall, but i know he's gonna add some touches to it... so keep your finger's crossed. he REALLY enjoyed the second half himself. so im pretty sure you will too. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 25 2008, 07:05 PM |
| The next half is going to be posted tomorrow night after I get back from class just because it's a great chapter and I want it to be really done well. A lot of great info from RC7, lot of great material to work with, and I want to devote some solid time to it to make sure it wows everyone here. |
| Posted by: xmark Mar 25 2008, 07:22 PM | ||
I like this The words are so deep and yet clear... You should compile all your fics and create a new manga for it... Another stage perhaps Awesome Reading material |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 25 2008, 07:24 PM |
| Can you tell I'm working on a steampunk novel as I'm co-writing this? My vocabulary from the one carries over to the other. Glad you like it, RC7 is doing a great job. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Mar 25 2008, 07:49 PM |
| You two are just awesome! Just keep the chapter coming. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Mar 26 2008, 06:30 AM | ||
"Let em work at their own pace Rick, relax, here, take this *injects you with heroine* Feelin any better now? THX, Cometman, how about a big fricken SWEEEEETT from me biggrin.gif" LOL sorry, its a great fanfic, these fanfics keep me going until (if ever) they start releasing more eps of Initial D, its been such a long wait Keep up the great work guys, |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 26 2008, 06:44 AM |
| Just hold on till tonight guys, it will be worth the wait. |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Mar 26 2008, 05:24 PM | ||
:::holds::: hopefully i'll be done with my logic hw. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 26 2008, 05:41 PM |
| it should be up before long...or at least that was the plan. lol |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 26 2008, 06:30 PM |
| “Come on, quit driving so slow!” Bunta taunted. Kichirou felt his heartbeat speed up. His eyes narrowed. It was happening… Kichirou felt time slow down and stop as he recalled the first time he went for ride with Fujiwara Bunta. It was an experience that had changed him forever. “I’m not sure I’m any good at drifting Bunta. Not as good as you anyway,” an 18 year old Kichirou said to 29 year old Bunta, while he kept his gaze fixed on the road in front of him. “You know you’re good at it, you can keep up with me pretty good,” Bunta offered encouragingly. “Yeah, but I don’t feel like I’m achieving anything when I do it! When you do it I can feel the reason behind it, and more importantly, the result. You actually turn drifting into a useful technique instead of just a show.” “Kichirou, have you ever wondered why drifting began in the mountains?” Bunta asked. Kichirou remained silent, realizing with a sudden shock that he had never stopped to think of why it began in the mountains, only that it just was. Although Keiichi Tsuchiya had begun drifting on racing circuits to keep his opponents from becoming too discourage, it had forever been a known fact that drifting in the mountains was a special way to go faster. “There’s lots of roads out there that have corners worthy of drifting on. So why here? What makes the mountains so special that the drifting pioneers brought the sport to life in these hills?” Bunta asked while looking over at Kichirou, who was focused intently on what Bunta was trying to imply. Frustrated when he didn't answer, Bunta continued with his lesson. “It’s because these hills are the only places where rules don’t apply. On the track grip will always be faster. On the track, it loses its magic. But here on the touge, it’s the only place where drifting can be used to achieve true speed. Touge is a place that requires more than a conventional racing line and good theory to be fast. It takes something special, a unique line that only the truly great can comprehend. It’s because here in the mountains there are certain lines that open the door to true speed that can only be achieved by allowing the car to drift. That’s what the first drifters were searching for when they began to drift. They were searching for that next level of speed. Like I said, only the truly great can find those doors. And remember, it takes an even more incredible driver to walk through them.” Kichirou engraved those words into his mind, words that would later mold him to into the incredible driver he would soon become. “The only way I can help it make sense to you is to show you,” Bunta sighed. Kichirou braced himself by holding the hachi-roku’s gleaming door handle and stiffening his legs against the transmission tunnel as Bunta floored the throttle and let the engine scream wide open down the short straight. Bunta jabbed the brakes and slung the shifter into second gear in a blur of human motion. Kichirou felt his body jolt forward then sideways as the g-forces pinned him into the seat and smacked his head against the window. It was too much for Kichirou. “How could a car move this fast while sliding and still be in control? What kind of driving is this?” Bunta upshifted back into third and charged into the next hairpin of Akina. “Bunta, slow down!” Kichirou yelped. But compliance was not an option for Fujiwara, especially if Kichirou was to truly grasp the concept of drifting. The AE86 charged into the corner and swung wide into a drift, again on the verge of insane intensity. Kichirou couldn’t believe his eyes. They wouldn’t let him. He felt his eyes begin to close unwillingly as his world became black and the g-forces began to feel as though they were pulling him away from reality. His body was calling him away from the unreal. The only thing he could do to keep himself sane was slip into a state of sleep. He caught one last glimpse of Bunta’s burning gaze on the road before he finally passed out. But when he awoke, he would awake a totally different driver. The once innocent eighteen year old Kichirou died that day as he fainted in Bunta’s seat. The driver that awoke from his forced slumber would be feared by all those who raced on the mountains for years to come. Kichirou’s eyes opened as he came back to his senses and the world around him came back up to speed, his eyes beginning to see the road in a different way. It had been a long time since his eyes took in the road this way. He was finally back. Kichirou felt his spirit ignite with the fuel inside the rotary engine as he was reunited with his true spirit and began to drive the way he was born to. “You have to let go Kichirou, remember your speed. Remember our runs. Forget the professional world and theories. Out here you make the rules. Drive!” Bunta shouted. As soon as he yelled those words he almost regretted it. Kichirou accelerated in a way that forced Bunta’s head deeply into the headrest. “This kid has flipped!” Bunta said to himself. Kichirou was too focused on the road to hear anything. He thought nothing. He just drove. He let go of all the techniques he had learned in the pro races. He let go of all self-control. No longer was he worried about tire conservation or mind games, fuel management or controlling stress to the suspension. His mind was empty and free to focus on what really mattered, the road itself. The engine seemed to rev forever as the rotary continued to hold Bunta’s head to the seat. The corner was coming up fast. Much too fast. Faster than Bunta had ever attempted to enter. For the first time in decades, Bunta felt his foot reach for the imaginary brake pedal. “Kichirou! Don’t over do it!” Kichirou’s foot remained firmly to the floor, the speed continuing to increase as the guardrail came hurtling closer and closer. “Kichirou, you're coming in too fast! Lay off!” His words fell on deaf ears. Kichirou was about to show Bunta what his pupil had become, the driver he had molded him into. This would be the ultimate thanks for everything Bunta had taught him. His foot remained floored. “Kichirou!” A loud window-rattling bang was heard as the 13BT backfired a gargantuan blue flame. Kichirou braked with the precision only found in a veteran pro’s technique, using the most perfect form of cadence braking ever seen on the street. The lightning-fast downshift was not felt, and there was no lock of the transmission as Bunta watched the unfocused image of the shift knob move into gear. There was only motion, perfect fluid motion. The car began to slide. Bunta knew it was the end. The guardrail was coming on much too fast and they were too close to it to recover. He had finally pushed a driver too far. Now he would regret it. To his surprise, the crash never came. Bunta felt genuine fear as he watched the guardrail run parallel with his door half a centimeter away. He kept listening for the sound of metal colliding with metal but it never came. But from where he was sitting another sound could be heard, a high-pitched whistling sound that pierced through the roar of the engine. A metallic whistling sound. Was it the turbo? No. What was it? Suddenly it clicked in Bunta’s head in amazement as he realized where it was coming from. It was the sound of air being forced into the metallic guardrail from the FC’s rear bumper as it slung past closer than he or Takumi had ever been before. The sound was beautiful music to Bunta’s ears. He had never heard or experienced anything like that before. Bunta’s attention turned back to the road as Kichirou held the throttle to the floor, the engine bouncing off the rev limiter. A full throttle drift with no remorse. The tires were sceaming at a volume so loud that no one would believe their ears. But someone did hear it. And they believed it, even if it was hard not to. An awestruck Ryosuke remained in the trees as he could only imagine what the monster drift he was hearing looked like. “Oh my God…” was all that Ryousuke could whisper as he tried to comprehend the speed and the line the vehicle had to be running in order to produce sounds of that magnitude. Who was capable of something like that? Kichirou held the drift all the way through the corner until the straightaway. “Okay Kichirou, now…” But Bunta never got to finish the sentence. The FC was not regaining traction, and its driver did not intend to correct the situation. Bunta was now leaning at an insane angle as the FC held its incredible slide down the straightaway. “Surely he isn’t going to try and drift all the way to the next corner?” Bunta wondered. “There isn't enough room to pull that off!” From the angle Bunta was now leaning he could clearly see Kichirou’s speedometer, and he didn't want to face the reality of what the speedometer was reading. The RX-7’s gleaming red gauge read an unbelievable 170 KPH. This was insanity to accelerate so fast down a straightaway in a straight line, but Kichirou was maintaining a slide at this speed. The FC continued to rocket sideways down the straight as Bunta caught a glimpse of the huge cloud of smoke that filled the entire width of the road behind them. “There’s no use trying to coach him anymore,” Bunta thought as he felt immense pride and sadness at the same time. “He’s surpassed me.” The FC finally reached the next corner and continued the impossible drift as he slid through the apex, catching traction for a brief second before feinting hard into the next hairpin. The whistling sound was heard yet again as this time the front bumper adhered almost perfectly to the groove of the guardrail, the sound echoing down the road. “He’s finally made it,” Bunta thought. All his hard work had paid off. Now Bunta knew it was possible for a driver to transcend to a much higher level. He had succeeded in perfecting his first pupil, and now he had to focus on one much more important. His son. Takumi was more than well on his way, Bunta already knew. Takumi would probably reach this level before his twenty-first birthday if he continued at the rate he was going. Finally relaxing into the FC’s seat, Bunta finally began to trust his student’s amazing technique. It was simply perfect, complete. There was nowhere for him to climb higher. Kichirou had made it. He was complete. Bunta smiled as the FC finally reached the straightaway and Kichirou slammed the gear shifter into third as he went full throttle into the next straight. Bunta glanced over at Kichirou as they sped into the night at death-defying speeds. As he took in the sight of Kichirou’s burning intensity and focused expression, Bunta knew once and for all that giving up his sponsorship to him had been worth it. Now Bunta was one step closer to feeling whole again. He was now much closer to being truly happy, and his eyes began to water as he thought of the incredible journey that still lay ahead of Takumi. “It's a great adventure. Ryosuke is in for quite a shock,” Bunta said happily as the FC roared with complete dominance down the straight into the night. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 26 2008, 06:57 PM |
| ha thanks THX you hardly changed a thing from my original writing, like one or two words. I'll take it it earned your approval? |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Mar 26 2008, 07:12 PM |
| And I thought Bunta is the only nut case in Initial D! |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 26 2008, 07:13 PM | ||
damn thx really didnt change much of the words??? that was an insane chapter rc7 . its good to see that the 2 of you make a insane co-op fanfic.hehe a certain white fc now feels intense pressure to maintain a precise and fast race. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 26 2008, 07:23 PM |
| well the first half of it was mostly my writing too, and from the Whole EVO thing at the beginning through the first conversation of Bunta and Kichirou was mine too. the Kichirou Takumi race was all THX and the Keisuke and Ryousuke conversation was his too. He's been gettin really swamped so ive had to step up to the plate and do some writing. Im actually enjoying it. Uur writing styles are VERY similar, so you cant really tell who's writing what. the stuff i write THX just goes and tweaks and adds that extra special something too, like the icing on the cake. he's a pleasure to work with. it helps that both of us actually know what its like driving cars. THX is great. |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Mar 26 2008, 08:08 PM |
| shoulda made bunta's eyes crack open during that crazy downhill(or does that only happen when he's out drinking?). Great chapter, that straightline drift is crazy. What's next, drifting in reverse? |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Mar 26 2008, 08:28 PM |
| awesome updates guys. really intense scenes... |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 26 2008, 10:51 PM |
| this fanfic is just way too epic. T_T |
| Posted by: ?wha? Mar 26 2008, 11:48 PM |
| The Mighty Bunta Fujiwara scared of crashing?? *Deep MC voice* EPIIIIIC WIN! */Deep MC voice* Can't wait for the FC vs FC race! |
| Posted by: xmark Mar 26 2008, 11:58 PM |
| Im having goosebumps reading this update Damn that Crazy Bunta creates a crazy pupil of his... Tears of joy to Bunta for accomplishing a complete driver apprentice Kichirou is the first succesor of Bunta... Takumi is next... Now what will Ryosuke think for his next simulation to Kichirou?  Don't miss it! |
| Posted by: Pikachu_Fragger Mar 27 2008, 12:17 AM |
| /r/ moar. Now we get to see who is the greatest driver on the street; Ryosuke or Bunta's pupil! |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 27 2008, 12:43 AM | ||
Relax. This isn't Akina's Black Demon you're reading. No car is going to pull a 180 and reverse its way around corners. Another sweet chapter you two. Keep it up!It'll be amazing just reading the battle between Ryousuke and Kichirou. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 27 2008, 01:44 AM |
| “Hmm, I wonder what's going on?” Keisuke asked, peering through the blinds of his room at the driveway below where Ryosuke was standing staring at his FC, a common pose for him these past few days. Shutting down his laptop he walked downstairs, grabbing a sandwich from the kitchen as he went, and was soon outside in the drive, leaning against his FD's rear quarter panel and looking at his brother. “Aniki, are you alright?” Keisuke asked, concerned. For the past few days his older brother had withdrawn inside himself, clamming up and becoming completely silent as if under a massive strain. Keisuke felt concerned, wondering if it was the medical studies or maybe trouble at the hospital that was getting him down, when his brother suddenly started as if woken from a dream. “Keisuke, have you ever been so intimidated by an opponent that the only logical choice open to you would be to run away?” Ryosuke asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the FC. Keisuke almost dropped his sandwich, unable or unwilling to believe his brother, who had always fought against incredible odds, should feel like running away. “Every time I went up against an Evo, bro,” he replied, taking a massive bite of the sandwich in a crafty attempt to get his brother to speak. Ryosuke remained quiet and extremely pale, lost in thought with a look of mingled dread and desire on his face. “I witnessed an FC driver tonight attain the state of utter perfection on Mt. Akina. Decades of training driving the same car on the same mountain, and he was able to take lines I didn't even know existed. I thought I've always been close to the top, especially with Project D's incredible successes, but now I feel like Kenta. I heard an FC, just like my own here, do things I could never attempt to do. Keisuke, I feel scared. I've been the invincible White Comet for so long, unchallenged for years, that now I have a true challenge I don't think I have what it takes to bring him down. If I race against him it will be a losing battle, and I feel that the only reason this FC driver is here is because of me,” Ryosuke said, shaking his head slowly and walking inside. Keisuke followed, unable to believe the words he had just heard come from his legendary brother's mouth. “He's that good?” Keisuke asked, incredulous. “He is. I heard him drift his FC down Akina's longest straight, holding the perfect angle the entire way, clouds of smoke billowing off the back. He has my car and Fujiwara's car control, and is a pupil of Fujiwara Bunta. The only way I was able to beat Bunta last time was by destroying this car. I don't think I can go through that again. I know I'm doomed to lose. The question, Keisuke, is whether or not I try.” Ryosuke trudged upstairs, each footfall heavy. Entering his room he locked the door, fell on his bed, and stared at the ceiling, turning it over and over in his mind until he felt sick. Looking out the window at his car he stood there and sighed, feeling the conflicting feelings squirm and wriggle inside him like so many worms. It was nauseous, this uncertainty. This fear. Something inside him snapped, solidifying and collapsing all the other worries into nothingness. “Win or lose, I am Takahashi Ryosuke, the White Comet of Akagi. I do not run from anyone,” he ground out through gritted teeth, anger beginning to flow through him, anger at his weakness and fear, anger at his cowardice. Keisuke finished his sandwich just as he heard a series of light thumps, the sound of his brother running down the stairs two at a time, dashing through the kitchen and out to the driveway. Dropping his glass Keisuke tore after him, afraid his elder brother would do something rash. “Aniki! Bro! What are you doing?” he called, sprinting out to the driveway just as Ryosuke fired up his engine. His elder brother's pale and furious eyes made brief contact with his own, just long enough for Keisuke to understand what was about to happen. Don't wait for me, the eyes said. Don't worry for me. The FC's engine revved up, screaming towards redline, and with a quick manipulation of the clutch the white car was billowing smoke from its rear tires as it ripped out of the driveway in reverse, sliding around at the end of the drive and, as Ryosuke slammed into first, rocketing down the street toward Akina. “Win or lose, I won't run away!” Ryosuke cried, determined to fight. |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 27 2008, 02:01 AM |
| That's right Ryousuke! The White Comet does not run away from a battle! Still rooting for Kichirou. But still. Fight Ryousuke! Fight! |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 27 2008, 05:09 AM | ||
*reality implodes* THIS CANNOT HAPPEN!!  Ryousuke needs a miracle to beat Kichirou now. Good luck to him though, he'll need it. Go Ninja Ryousuke! |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Mar 27 2008, 07:04 AM |
| good stuff, dunno bout the surpassing of bunta part, that was takumi job but hey its great im just a reader lol, keep it up |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Mar 27 2008, 08:03 AM |
| Thx, were you waking up or going to sleep when you posted this last update? Either way, 5:44 a.m. our time is pretty early. Good update, im rooting for Ryosuke. |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 27 2008, 11:15 AM |
| f**kING SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is too much the match is gonna be.... ZOMFG! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 27 2008, 05:38 PM |
| Takumi woke up suddenly, aware that something wasn't right. Rolling over in his bed he saw the clock, its alarm long since rang. Sitting up in bed, surprised that he hadn't been chided for oversleeping, he rubbed his eyes and stood up with a yawn, stretching until his joints popped. Thumping heavily down the stairs, still clumsy from the sleep, he strolled into the dark living room and stumbled, falling onto the floor, his hands hitting something wet in the dark. Cursing his old man for being a drunk, he got up and flipped the switch. Bunta was lying on the floor, his eyes half open and his lips a frightening blue. “Dad?” Takumi said, shaking his shoulder. “Dad?!” “DAD?!” |
| Posted by: xmark Mar 27 2008, 05:59 PM |
| This is an important battle for Ryosuke which FC driver is better... I think he will let Kichirou take the lead just like he did to Takumi... Everybody has its weakness and this will be the key point to calculate Ryosuke's simulation. He must bond with the car on a physical level to the point he can make the car do anything he wants and be able to pass Kichirou's insane cornering line... Its getting better and better... Keep it up guys. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 27 2008, 06:07 PM |
| “Are you alright?” Kichirou asked, his knuckles white as he gripped the railing of the bed, looking down at the surprisingly frail-looking form of his mentor. “I think so,” Bunta said, wheezing with the effort. The doctor walked into the room, case file in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Setting the cup down by the bed, he took out his stethoscope and placed it on Bunta's chest. “I was wondering when you would show up,” the doctor said, “although I thought it would be from a wreck rather than this. I should have known, though. How many packs do you smoke a day?” Dr. Shima asked, motioning for Kichirou to leave. Kichirou put his hand on Takumi's shoulder and guided him into the hall, closing the door behind them. “Four.” “You're not an idiot. You know what happens when you smoke this much. Why do you do it, Fujiwara?” Tatsuya asked, shaking his head. “Because,” Bunta replied grumpily. “Smoking is slow suicide. You know that. Why do it?” Tatsuya pressed. “Because I wanted to die,” Bunta said, his eyes rolling open to focus lazily on Shima. Tatsuya remained silent, folding his hands behind his back and walking over to the window to peer down on his Porsche before responding. “Your lifetime of destructive behavior won't be easily reversed. If you survive the aggressive chemotherapy I have planned for you, you'll still be weakened,” Shima said. “I know. How many years can you give me?” Bunta asked. “Years? Fujiwara, one of your lungs is completely cancerous tissue. Even if it's still contained, and there are no relapses, you'll have maybe nine or ten months. Best case scenario, you'll live to see your son's 21st birthday, but not much beyond that.” Bunta clenched his fists, unable to voice the emotions running through his mind. Finally, he forced his mouth to speak. “Let's get started. Don't hold back.” “I'm not going to lie to you. This is going to hurt, but it'll buy you more time,” Tatsuya said. “Find someone to run your shop for you. Take up a hobby to keep your mind active. Have your son bring you some things from home. You're going to be here for a long time.” |
| Posted by: xmark Mar 27 2008, 06:26 PM |
| Wow nice update i never knew that coming... Some familiar Wangan guest came for Bunta... I hope this will be a happy ending and not a tragedy |
| Posted by: 207 Mar 27 2008, 07:06 PM |
| noooo! why does bunta hav such a limited time left?? cancer sucks and he smoked several too many in his lifetime . he must atleast survive to see takumi surpass him |
| Posted by: ?wha? Mar 27 2008, 07:17 PM |
| OMFG NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is sacreligious!! Then again, MOAR! MOAR PLZ!!!! We want to know what happens! |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 27 2008, 08:32 PM | ||||
Well. . Atleast Bunta gets 2 more years to live.
I think it's going to be bittersweet ending. BTW:
|
| Posted by: Pikachu_Fragger Mar 27 2008, 10:51 PM |
| Moral of the story: Don't smoke cigars while smoking cars. I'm not sure if we'll get to see Bunta die in this one; if we do, I'm interested to see how he goes. Also, MOAR |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 28 2008, 01:21 AM |
| OMG. T_T why Bunta!!! So much emotions. T_T |
| Posted by: Flex. Mar 28 2008, 05:51 AM |
| It's not like you didn't see that coming, judging from the Kichirou and Bunta conversation in the early chapters about the smoking and coughing.. Nice going guys |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Mar 28 2008, 06:33 AM |
| my heart keep up the good work |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 28 2008, 08:05 AM | ||
| Not Bunta! Nooooooo! He must live! Liiiiiiiiiiive! Forever!
+1 |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 28 2008, 09:23 AM |
| There will be more, just not right now. I've got a term paper to write tonight and Saturday, and a race on Sunday. Next big update will be during the upcoming week, but there might be a small piece if I can squeeze it in during homework. |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 28 2008, 11:55 AM |
| kk. take your time with that essay thx! bah and i thought there was an update. T_T |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 28 2008, 12:18 PM |
i may give yall a little teaser...  |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 28 2008, 05:11 PM |
| please! for the love of god i need an update on thid fic! =O T_T |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 29 2008, 03:28 PM |
| Ta da! ***************** The rain spattered down in an unending torrent, sheets of water gushing down from above and crashing on anything in its path. Takumi felt something approaching a tear run down his cheek but blamed it on water leaking through an open window as he drifted the Impreza through a tight hairpin, returning from his early morning tofu delivery. With his father in the hospital for quite some time, the tofu shop and even daily life had been thrown into disarray. Kichirou had brought his wife, a former cook at an expensive restaurant in Tokyo, to the tofu shop to keep the store running. Takumi sighed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he pulled into the alley. It was rough running the deliveries, going to work, and then coming back at night to prepare the tofu for the next day, and it was running him down. The first week had drained his batteries so badly that he no longer trusted himself to drive the hachi-roku, sticking instead to his father's Impreza. There was another reason he clung to the Impreza as well, a reason he wouldn't or couldn't admit. It smelled like his dad. It reminded him of his father, the one who could perform an insane drift with one hand on the wheel, eyes closed, casually smoking a cigarette. “Those damn cigarettes,” Takumi cursed, wishing he had flung every pack into the street and run them over. They were taking his father away, bit by bit, each breath sneaking away just that much more of his dad until he would be dead and gone. The doctor, Ryosuke's former teacher, wouldn't say exactly what the situation was, but Takumi knew it wasn't good. Kichirou's continued presence was enough of an indication to know there was something seriously wrong, and the appearance of his wife solidified the fact. He didn't like staying in the tofu shop anymore. He would wake up early and run the delivery, come home and change, and then get to work early. He'd work late, then come home only when he was about to pass out from fatigue. As pleasant as she was, Takumi had barely spoken three words to Kichirou's wife or even knew what her name was. Sighing, he walked inside, dropping off the empty container in its usual place, and quickly ran upstairs to get showered and changed. Without seeing or speaking to another person in the house he was soon back out on the street and in the Impreza, driving. There was no work today, in fact his boss had given him a month off to help with family matters, but he couldn't stay in that house and he was too scared to go to the hospital, scared of seeing his father weak and possibly dying. “No, I can't think that,” he said, turning to the left and hitting the massive Brembo brakes hard as his tired eyes recognized the slim form on the street corner, carrying an umbrella and skipping along toward the tofu shop, jumping into every puddle she could see with a satisfying splash. “Natsuki!” “Takumi-kun!” she cried, waving a hand at him as she came running over, a smile on her face. She stopped at the car door, bending low to peer through the open window at him. “Nice car, is this yours?” she asked, admiring it. The blue was pretty, and the actual shape of the car seemed strong and powerful. Takumi shook his head, and she caught his expression. Unlocking the door she slid into the seat, bringing with her the soft smell of perfume and something sweet, something like flowers. “What's wrong?” she asked, placing a tender hand on his forearm. Takumi gulped. “Do you have some time?” he asked. She nodded, her warm eyes examining him, wondering why he looked so incredibly tired and miserable. She felt as if he was in worse shape than she had been at Tokyo University. “Dad's in the hospital, he has cancer. Lung cancer. They won't tell me how serious it is, but he's living at the hospital now and some of his friends came to run the tofu shop. I have to make the deliveries in the morning, go to work, and then come back and help at the shop. My boss gave me some time off because of everything, but it's still crazy. Now that dad's friend's wife is making the tofu, the shop is really busy and I have to work like crazy.” Takumi sighed, shifting into second, his foot slipping off the clutch too soon and jerking the car. Natsuki wasn't sure what scared her more, the story Takumi had told or the shift he had just messed up. “Well that's good,” Natsuki said slowly, “because I was hoping I could find someplace to keep busy while I was here.” “What do you mean?” Takumi asked. “I've got a break from the university, so I wanted to come back here and hang out with my friends. If you could find someplace for me to stay at your house, I'd work the front counter for you. How does that sound?” she asked. “It sounds good,” Takumi said, surprised. Natsuki wasn't the airhead she used to be. She was smarter now, more mature. “Can I buy you lunch?” she asked, trying to cheer him up. He gave her a faint smile and turned the steering wheel, pointing the Impreza toward the local diner. * Ryosuke pulled to a stop and parked his FC outside the Fujiwara Tofu Shop. The place looked almost like a car lot, with all the vehicles parked outside. The panda Trueno was tucked away in the back of the alley, next to a small green kei car, and both looked like they hadn't been moved in a week.The red FC of his opponent was parked at the front of the alley, next to the blue Impreza of the greatest opponent he had ever encountered on the street. Shutting off the FC's engine he got out and stepped across the sidewalk into the tofu shop, the door jingling his entry in a cheery voice. A woman he didn't recognize smiled at him from the back and welcomed him in a cheerful tone, while a younger woman, a college student, smiled at him from the front counter. “Irrasshaimase!” the young woman cried, looking at him pleasantly. Ryosuke felt himself falter, and he hung in the door for a few moments. “Is... is Kichirou Tsubasa here?” he asked. “I saw his car outside.” The girl nodded and flitted to the back, almost running but not quite. Kichirou came to the counter soon after, and when he recognized his visitor his gloomy face brightened slightly. “What's going on?” Ryosuke asked, feeling overwhelmed. Kichirou walked outside and Takahashi followed. “Fujiwara Bunta has lung cancer, and although it's operable, the odds are decidedly not in his favor. As a kindness to an old friend and mentor, I've come with my wife to help run his shop. It's the least I could do after everything Bunta has done for me. The girl at the counter is a friend of Takumi's, here on break from university. Why have you come?” Kichirou asked, kneeling down and running his hand over the white FC's front tire. “I... I...” Ryosuke stammered, his brain overwhelmed with all the news. Finally, he was able to shake his head clear and continue. “I'm here to challenge you. That's why you came here in the first place, isn't it?” he asked. Kichirou nodded, tracing his finger down the FC's body until he came to the rear wheel, where he felt the spokes, judging their heat. “But I don't want to have just one battle,” Ryosuke said. Kichirou stood up stiffly, rubbing his knees and patting the brake dust from his hands. “No?” he asked. “No. I want to challenge you in a way no one has ever raced before,” Ryosuke said, his spirits rising. “Try me,” Kichirou responded. “I want to race you on the downhill of every major course in Japan. Ibaraki, Saitama, Tochigi, Irohazaka, Akagi, and Akina,” Ryosuke said, falling silent with his challenge now delivered. Kichirou's eyes opened wide as he realized the implications of such an incredible battle. “I will race you in Ibaraki, Saitama, Irohazak, Akagi, and Akina. I don't have the time for Tochigi, not while helping out at the tofu shop. But there needs to be some form of wager for this battle. What is your intent, Takahashi Ryosuke?” Kichirou asked. “You're here in an effort to sign me up for your racing team, because you're going to have a child soon and want to move out of the car and into team management, isn't that correct?” Ryosuke asked, hoping the information his friends and spies had accumulated was accurate. “I see I can't keep anything secret from you,” Kichirou responded drily. “If you defeat me, I'll race for you. If I defeat you, you leave me alone,” Ryosuke said. “If I defeat you, what's the point in signing you up to race for me? You'll have to do better than that, Takahashi. Not every race is on your terms, not every battle is stacked in your favor.” “Fine. The winner of the final battle on Mt. Akina decides the matter,” Ryosuke said, watching his opponent's face. “Alright, fine. Give me a few days to get things in order here, and then we can start. And Ryosuke,” he added as he began to walk back inside, “try running some more camber in the rear. It'll help you keep that oversteer from getting ugly.” |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 29 2008, 04:13 PM |
| Oh my. Do I need new glasses or did I actually read what I think I just read? A battle over more than 1 course?! Kichirou is giving Ryousuke set up advice? Wow. The next update, or updates, will be epic, no doubt. Wanted: MOAR. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 29 2008, 05:16 PM | ||
1 - Yes, there may well indeed be battles across multiple courses. With a co-writer, I'm able to do things that would be impossible to do in a decent amount of time by myself. 2 - Yes, Kichirou is telling Ryosuke the white FC isn't dialed-in all the way. 3 - Major updates will resume during the week. There might be a small one Sunday, depending on how quickly RC7 can write his portion. 4 - MOAR EPICNESS SOON! |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Mar 29 2008, 05:25 PM |
| hes laid down the gauntlet... cant wait for the next updates! awesome job thx/rc7 |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 29 2008, 05:28 PM | ||
| I honestly never expected Ryousuke to forget to give the rear wheels some negative camber. Anyway. I'm happy to know that:
|
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 29 2008, 05:41 PM | ||
I might have to get into more detail on it later, but look at it this way. Kichirou has been driving his FC for a very long time now, longer than Ryosuke has been driving his. I'm kind of implying that Kichirou here knows more about what the car wants and what makes it perform, better than Ryosuke does. On the other hand, could it be a hint to Ryosuke on the only way to defeat Kichirou? Will the winner of the ultimate Five Circuit Attack be chosen by a crucial moment when oversteer results in the win? STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT MORE! |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 29 2008, 11:53 PM |
| OMFG. So emotional. T_T. Takumi isn;t really taking this situation easy I feel bad for him. And Ryosuke... OMG. Just a quick question. Where was Tochigi again? Whhat was Pro. D against there? |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Mar 30 2008, 01:17 AM |
| How convenient that there are five courses, which will obviously result in a 2 wins for each, and a final showdown on AKINA. I predict Ryosuke will win on Akagi & Saitama. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 30 2008, 02:25 PM |
 There's the racecar! Did great on course today, tangled with a mis-classed Pontiac Solstice GXP (the turbo version) and whooped his ass bad even though I had a 120 HP disadvantage. Anyway, since I'm back from the races, once I collect my thoughts, you'll see RC7's portion up here. Good bit of writing from him. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 30 2008, 04:18 PM | ||
Go thx! Well done on beating a car with 120 more bhp! Your MX-5 looks sweet in that pic. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 30 2008, 05:31 PM |
| Ryosuke was beginning to get goosebumps. He had only been in the presence of someone who so effortlessly made him feel inferior like this once before in his life, and that was the ailing legend that lay in the hospital, Fujiwara Bunta. Ryosuke was taken aback by the overall demeanor of Kichirou, and realized that he couldn’t stop watching him. Once Kichirou reached the front door and placed a hand on the door knob he turned back and made eye contact with him, giving a slight grin, as though he could hear Ryosuke’s internal dilemna being spoken out loud. Ryosuke took a slight step backward as he began to feel the immense aura that radiated so vibrantly from Kichirou, the intensity of it burning him from the inside out. Ryosuke finally turned away from the awe-inspiring driver and clumsily entered his white FC and tried to crank it, but it wouldn't start on the first few tries, and he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment. He had parked next to Kichirou’s own gleaming red metallic FC, the old car sporting paint from the newer FE3S. It was almost as if car and driver alike were both afraid and understood the magnitude of their next opponent. Ryosuke felt so many emotions all he could do was sloppily engage reverse and clumsily shift gears with his trembling hand, forcing his shaking legs to work the pedals. “I can’t do this,” Ryosuke thought hopelessly as he drove towards his home that now seemed a lot further away than usual. Kichirou finally entered the tofu shop after watching the effect he had on his challenger. He kicked his shoes off at the door and proceeded into the living room of the shop, where his wife was sitting at the table taking a lunch break. “Was that him?” she asked. She didn’t even have to see what was going on to know what had transpired or what the situation was. After being in love with Kichirou for so long, they had a connection on a different level that normal people could not even begin to comprehend. Stronger than Kichirou's bond with his car. “Yeah that was him.” “Is he what you thought he would be?” “Everything. He wants us to compete in a series of races, to see if he truly belongs on my team or not. If I win he’ll race for me,” Kichirou said, taking a sip from her cup. “You know, normally I’d say that wouldn’t be too hard for you, but I know this guy is special. But I know you’ll do your best…you always do,” she said, smiling warmly up at him from her lunch. Kichirou stood there for a moment, taking in the beauty of the woman he so dearly loved and cherished. She had light fair skin, and long straight red hair that beautifully fell about her shoulders. She had a graceful figure. To Kichirou she was his angel and she very closely resembled one as he stared into her deep blue eyes. She was his inspiration, and the entire purpose to his life. Without her he meant nothing. Racing was where he belonged and what he was good at, but that would mean nothing without her by his side. That was why he had to quit and he knew it. Their first child was due in eight months and he could no longer afford to be as careless as he had been in the past, risking his life to run a faster time. He had a family that needed him now, and he wasn’t going to let them down or worry them with his antics. He had served more than enough track time and had left many records shattered, enough to know that his name would not be forgotten for a very long time. He was ready to retire now, and return to what truly meant the most to him. And to do that, all he had to do was defeat Takahashi Ryosuke. The only one truly capable of being a worthy successor to the legacy he had worked so hard to build, save for the son of Fujiwara Bunta. He walked around beside her and sat down close to her for a brief second before laying flat on his back with his head in his hands staring up at the ceiling fan as it whirled round and round. It reminded him of a rotary engine in a small way, the continuous revolutions that were sheer perfection every time. “Are you sure you’re okay with working here babe?” Kichirou asked from behind her as he laid there still watching the fan. “Of course, don’t forget that I’m a friend of Bunta’s too.” Kichirou smiled at the thought of his past, how simple everything was, when they were both so young and they had their entire lives ahead of them, but now Bunta’s was on the brink of being snatched away from him. It was that thought that made Kichirou even more determined to hold on to what meant the most to him. He looked down from the fan to his wife who was just finishing wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin. He just to loved to look at her and take in her effortless beauty. She turned her head to look down at Kichirou who was grinning ear to ear without even realizing he was. “I love you Sora,” was all he could manage to say. Sora smiled a big grin and laid down beside him, with her leg over one of his and her head and arm on his chest. “I love you too” she said once she was good and comfortable. “You know, I think Bunta would enjoy seeing you again. We should go see him tomorrow and close early. I think Takumi is missing him too,” Kichirou suggested. “That would be great. I haven’t seen Bunta in ages. I hate that it has to be on such bad terms…” “I think you would brighten his day up. You certainly brighten mine.” Kichirou said. Sora then sat up and gave Kichirou a deep kiss before finally settling back down to a well needed rest. After a short nap, Kichirou found himself in a mild argument with the Fujiwara prodigy. “I don't want to go,” Takumi said, unable to lift his eyes from the floor. Kichirou sighed, shaking his head. He put a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder and bent down to make eye contact. “My father died when I was your age. He died of a drawn-out disease, wasting away. I remember him being this strong man who could lift me off the ground and throw me over his shoulder like it was nothing. The last time I saw him he was a crippled, wrinkled-up frail old man that I could have tucked under my arm without any effort. What I miss most is the fact that I didn't spend as much time with him as I could have. I'm not saying your father is dying, Takumi, but I am saying he's very sick and he probably won't be the same ever again. You're old enough to know this, old enough to understand. If you want to stay here that's fine, I'm not going to push you. When it was me, all I wanted to do was run away. But think of what it would mean to him for you to come visit.” * “So you came?” Bunta said, opening his eyes slowly to look at his son. Takumi nodded, unable to speak. “Good. Now get out of here and go do something worth doing. Go charge the battery on the Impreza, or the Trueno. Kichirou told me you aren't driving it at all. Why?” “Too tired, I can't keep it on the road,” Takumi said slowly, afraid to meet his father's eyes as he laid there in the hospital bed, shorn of his hair and a sickly pale color. “Go home, get some rest, and take Kichirou for a drive in the AE86,” Bunta ordered, closing his eyes and breathing with some effort. Tatsuya placed his hand on Takumi's shoulder and propelled him from the room and into Sora's arms where he began to cry. Kichirou walked into the room and spent some time in quiet conversation, and when Takumi's eyes had dried, Sora changed places with Kichirou. Takumi heard his father laughing in the other room and wondered what had made him do so, but Kichirou took his arm and led him down the hall. “I'm going to be riding as passenger on your delivery run tomorrow morning,” he said. “Your dad wants me to. Did he tell you why?” he asked. Takumi shook his head. “He's probably up to his old tricks. He's a wily fox, your father. Did he tell you about how he brought that AE86 home from the dealership and beat the pants off of a heavily-modified 911? The ink was still drying on the contract.” Takumi chuckled. “That sounds like him. He didn't tell me though. Do you have other stories about him? He doesn't really like talking about his past,” Takumi admitted, looking back at the closed door of the room where Sora and Bunta's laughter intermingled. “I'll tell you some more once you show me that insane drift of yours,” Kichirou said, returning to the room. Takumi wandered around the hospital for a while, hands in pockets as he shuffled about. He accidentally bumped into an older man in a white coat, who dropped his clipboard on the floor. Takumi bent down and picked it up, and realized with shock he knew the man. “God Hand!” “Dr. Toshiya when I'm in here,” he replied, taking the clipboard and smiling. “What brings you here, young Fujiwara? Tonsils? Moping?” “Lung cancer,” Takumi replied, and Toshiya's smile slipped away. “So that Fujiwara is related to you. I was hoping it wasn't, which is why I haven't visited him yet. I'm sorry to hear that, Takumi. I'm busy right now, but let me know the next time you're coming by and we'll have a talk. I'm eager to see if you've tried my one-handed steer yet,” Joushima said before disappearing around the corner. “What kind of hospital is this?” Takumi asked, wondering out loud. “God Hand, Blackbird, and my shitty old man in the thick of it. I'd almost expect to meet Ryosuke here,” he said, turning around to head back to his father's room and walking square into Intern Takahashi. “I was surprised to find your father in my ward,” Ryosuke said, leading them back to the proper door. He glanced in, unsurprised to see Kichirou talking to Bunta, before focusing on Takumi once more. “I'm doing what I can to help him. Just do what he says and don't argue,” Ryosuke commented cryptically before disappearing almost into thin air. “Gee, I'd almost expect a billion yen to fall into my hands,” Takumi said hopefully, looking around from left to right, before sighing and walking into his father's room, much happier than he had been before. “Perfect timing, Takumi,” Bunta said. “Kichirou told me about your friend's challenge. I want you to keep me up to date. You can keep using the Impreza if you're feeling tired. Once you're ready, drive the Trueno.” “I will,” Takumi said, bowing his head to his father and leaving the room with Kichirou and Sora. As they headed back to the tofu shop in the Impreza, the only car the three of them could fit into, Kichirou cleared his throat and looked at Takumi. “I was telling Sora about the pretty view from Mt. Akina. Would you mind taking us up there for a few moments?” he asked. Takumi saw the gleam in Kichirou's eyes and understood what was wanted from him. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Sora though, and wondered whether a pregnant woman, even just one month pregnant, should be thrown about. “Just drop me off at the shop, I can't leave Natsuki all by herself,” Sora said, catching Kichirou's eyes. With the Impreza lightened by one body, Takumi shifted into first, blipped the throttle twice, and took off toward Mt. Akina, Kichirou in the passenger seat, ready to observe. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 30 2008, 05:36 PM |
| Ok yall ready for an update? Heh heh heh... |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 30 2008, 05:54 PM |
| ahahaha. nice one. haven't seen Takumi so emotional... AHA. Everyone is at that hospital! AHA. MOAR perhaps? Great update! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 30 2008, 06:05 PM |
| I defeated the Pontiac Solstice GXP by 6.314 seconds. How's that for a hell of a good job? We'll see how he does next time, in his proper class. |
| Posted by: DK_2 Mar 30 2008, 06:08 PM |
| HAHA. I'd say he got pwn3d? Knowing he had a 120HP advantage? |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Mar 30 2008, 06:49 PM |
| This is great keep up the good work |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Mar 30 2008, 07:53 PM |
| sometimes too much power can bite you in the ass! |
| Posted by: xmark Mar 30 2008, 08:18 PM |
| Nice update... Those are great doctors and racers in one hospital... Wangan and Touge alike... Balance is the key, sometimes you need to lower the power to gain more speed... Its nice to hear that you beat a much more power car THX... |
| Posted by: Meteor Mar 31 2008, 12:25 AM | ||||
| Another excellent update! What a coincidence. Tatsuya, Joshima and Ryousuke. All in the same hospital.
Nicely done my friend. Nicely done.
I get the feeling that this wasn't simply a matter of not having a balanced car. 5+ seconds sounds like a gap too big for something like that. I think it was just a person of lesser skills losing to a person of greater skills. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 31 2008, 02:08 AM |
| If I'm ever sick, I am going to that hospital. One handed stitching perhaps? Pretty emotional chapter, although its nice to see Bunta can still talk. Sora seems pretty nice. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Mar 31 2008, 03:52 AM | ||
That is the greatest line EVER. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Mar 31 2008, 04:18 AM | ||
Haha! Why thank you thx. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Apr 2 2008, 07:00 AM |
| any updates? oh wow new 20 character limit |
| Posted by: DK_2 Apr 6 2008, 08:13 PM |
| wth. no updates in the past week? T_T |
| Posted by: Pikachu_Fragger Apr 6 2008, 11:38 PM | ||
It was probably finals week or something. I'm sure we'll get an update soon. ... we WILL get an update soon, right guys? ... Guys?  |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 7 2008, 04:55 AM | ||
We have a winner. I'm this close to getting A's in ALL my classes, I know you guys will understand. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Apr 7 2008, 07:19 AM |
| Make all A's and then give us a A++ follow up |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 7 2008, 08:04 AM |
| Best of luck with your grades. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 8 2008, 01:41 AM |
| Just a little bit to tide you over. ******************** Ryosuke yawned loudly, stretching his arms and legs almost to the breaking point as he squirmed around in his bed, thrashing under the covers until eventually he sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes, forcing himself to wake up. He remained there in the bed for a while, yawning pleasurably and blinking his eyes, until finally he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and thrust his feet into a pair of slippers. Still yawning he stumbled downstairs, trekking across the halls to the kitchen, where he opened the fridge and stared blankly at the contents inside. When his mind finally registered what was available, he grumbled at his parents and their new obsession with Western cooking. Taking out a pair of eggs, a few slices of bacon, and a strange piece of bread called a bagel, he began to cook his breakfast. The first step was to toast the bagel, and while that was working he took down the flattened wok his parents called a frying pan and set it to the stovetop's flame. He couldn't understand the obsession his parents had developed with Western food, or why they would stock the fridge to reflect that, but he was hungry and food was all that mattered. After tossing a small pat of butter into the pan and letting it melt and coat the metal, he cracked the two eggs into the pan and whisked them around with some milk. Treading back to the fridge he pulled out a block of cheese and he got a grater from the drawer, and in a few seconds he had grated the fresh cheese into the pan. An onion was soon diced up and added, along with a few other vegetables, and as a final touch, he sliced up a piece of ham into small cubes and threw that in as well, topping the whole thing with cheese again and some black pepper. He let it bubble and chuckle to itself on the stove while he took the bagel out of the toaster and gave it a light coating of cream cheese. To complete the Western-style breakfast he retrieved some orange juice from the fridge, poured himself a glass, and then set his place at the counter, pulling up one of the stools to do so. As he munched his omelet and bagel, taking occasional drinks from the cup of orange juice at his hand, Ryosuke looked over the paper, but soon picked up a specialty magazine about the RX-7. It had been some time since he had last truly worked on the Mazda, and some new parts had hit the market as the FC3S had grown in popularity, no doubt helped by his very own car sitting outside. Indeed, there was a reprint of the article that had made him and Keisuke famous, and he read the familiar words with pride as he chewed his breakfast. After cleaning up the kitchen and cleaning up himself, Ryosuke went downstairs again in the early morning fog, feeling refreshed at the cool misty touch on his skin, and got into the FC. He started the car up and let it idle until it was warn, then he pulled out of the driveway and headed off to get some gas. Today was the first day of races, and it would be important to be at his best. “This is going to be a good day.” |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 8 2008, 04:07 AM | ||
Seems Ryousuke won his battle with morning tiredness. Looking forward to more tasty chapters! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 8 2008, 08:29 AM |
| Everyone knows that breakfast is the most important battle of the day. It looks like I'm going to make a B in one of my classes, so that takes some of the pressure off. I should have an update by tomorrow evening for the first battle between Kichirou and Ryosuke, possibly in the same place where Takumi and the Roadster battled it out. Oh, I think I'm set up on XBox Live now, and my gamertag is THX71257. |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 8 2008, 09:26 AM | ||
| It's not the main course, but a little appetizer beforehand doesn't hurt Restaurant D anyone? BTW
Forgot the "y". |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 8 2008, 02:06 PM | ||
Does that give me a little slack? |
| Posted by: Hannah Apr 8 2008, 02:38 PM | ||
You better come up with something to say and edit it in quick, man. There's a stick-ass, trigger-happy, Nazi-like moderator who I shall not name that abso-f**king-lutely loves to whip out warnings for that dumb shit like he's passing out radio station T-shirts at a Saturday night event at the local drag strip. -cough- >.> That said, this fic is pretty amazing, as I believe I've previously stated. I do wonder what you two think of mine, though. edit: God damn it, Paula, log yourself out when you use my computer! This is Dori talking on my own behalf. |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 8 2008, 05:42 PM | ||
I apologise if what I said came out wrong. I was just pointing out a small mistake. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 8 2008, 05:55 PM |
| no problem, I was just joking! ********* Ryosuke curled his knuckles on the steering wheel, feeling as angry as he ever had before. The day had been a series of escalating aggravations that had culminated in his sitting on Momiji lane, in the Tochigi prefecture, staring at Kichirou's rear bumper as his FC idled fitfully, coughing and snorting through the intake as it guzzled the high-test fuel swilling in its tank. “This day has sucked from start to finish, but I'm going to make it work for me,” Ryosuke said, blipping the throttle, listening to the 13BT rev up and down, choking as it passed 3500 RPMs before smoothing out again. Something was wrong with the tune, but it would have to wait. “Are you sure you want to race?” Kichirou asked, leaning on Ryosuke's door and looking through the window. “Yeah, I'm sure. Why?” Ryosuke responded. “Well, it looks like you were rear-ended. Your rear bumper's all mashed up and your exhaust pipe is at a funny angle. Is it safe?” “Yeah it's safe, let's race,” Ryosuke said impatiently, completely out of character for him. Something about Kichirou drove him insane, like a white-hot splinter in his brain. |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Apr 8 2008, 06:10 PM |
| wow, tough shit for ryosuke... of all days for that to happen to him... how gracious of you to put out little snippets to tide us over till the next major update. great job, lookin forward to the race (you cant avoid it any longer since theyre already at the starting line... hah) |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 8 2008, 06:12 PM |
Woah woah woah woah woah... woah! Ryousuke got rear ended? When? Have I missed a chapter somewhere?  There was no word of it in the Initial Breakfast chapter, or has this happened between now and then? If so, sucks for Ryousuke, as pnoytecknix said, of all days... Good luck to Ryousuke, he needs it. I'm cheering for Kichirou though. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 8 2008, 06:29 PM |
| Yeah, he got rear-ended between breakfast and the race. That's why he's got engine issues. His day is better than mine. I was delivering parts in the parts truck, I was on a highway and went through a corner, went to open up the throttle and heard a pop. Next thing I know tachometer is dead, no power steering, no brakes.... I have to coast it through traffic and almost flipped it into a ditch. Sat there for an hour or two before getting picked up, then as I was headed to class (late, of course) I was on the interstate, boxed in between a bunch of SUVs, when the RV in front of me decided to dump its toilet tanks. I ran through a huge pile of liquid-muddy human excrement with my windows down. So, after scraping off dried human fecal matter from my paint with a hose and brush, I still have a substantial amount caked onto the undercarriage and exhaust that I couldn't reach. When I got home I seriously wanted to kill something, but my brother stole my XBox and he'll be gone at a friend's house until Friday. I swear, if tomorrow wasn't my birthday I'd be pissed. ******** The two cars idled at the start, engines revving over and over while a member of the SSR came out to start them. “You used to drive a red Roadster, didn't you?” Ryosuke asked, recognizing the man. He nodded, suddenly realizing who was talking to him. “You're Takahashi Ryosuke of the rotary engine,” he said, “leader of Project D, street king of all Japan! What are you doing here?” “I'm racing, what does it look like?” Ryosuke responded glibly. Toru stood between the two FCs, one red and one white, and raised his arms. Then, after making eye contact, he counted. “San! Ni! Ichi! GO!” The two cars revved and took off, perfectly even at the first corner. Diving into the second, Ryosuke felt the FC's wheel tugging in his hands as the front tires darted over the loose gravel, a byproduct of the extra toe he was running up front in an effort to quicken response. The two cars screamed for the next corner, Kichirou taking the lead effortlessly in a manner so smooth that Ryosuke felt sick to his stomach. The two cars diced through the intense curves, trading places over and over again, mirrors scraping against each other at the apex of every turn. “I can't believe this,” Ryosuke said, unable to feel that it was real. The two identical cars battled violently, Kichirou crushing Ryosuke's lines at every corner entry, sliding his tail wide to block any attempt at passing. “I can do this,” Ryosuke said, pushing harder and harder until the FC's front tires began to squeal in pain. Ripping through one particular section, Ryosuke recognized his chance at overtaking. With Kichirou drifting through the corner, Ryosuke made a run at the uncovered drain, weight-shifting his car to lift the front right tire into the air and give himself just enough space to slide past. Kichirou watched in amusement then altered his drift angle, knocking Ryosuke's duct-taped bumper off the back of his car. It disappeared into the night in a quick flash of white, but Ryosuke was too involved to realize. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 8 2008, 06:35 PM |
| I see, I see. Damn, you have had a worse day than Ryousuke. Brothers... uck. Seems Kichirou is playing with Ryousuke, knocking off Ryousuke's bumper? Haha. Crushing his lines too, Bunta's teachings? It looks like Kichirou is going to win this by far, but who knows. |
| Posted by: s13_slider Apr 8 2008, 10:26 PM |
| In any case.. Happy Birthday!!! |
| Posted by: tiQlado Apr 9 2008, 06:18 AM |
| Wow. I never thought I'd see the words "Ryousuke" and "rear-ended" used in a single sentence. Who'da thunk? |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 9 2008, 09:23 AM |
| Damn. Ryousuke sure isn't having a very good day. Go go Kichirou! But I wish Ryousuke luck on the battle. He needs it. |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Apr 9 2008, 09:28 AM |
| that is really f**ked up what that rv did... shoulda ran him into the wall... anyway, nice start to the race. its not looking too god for Ryosuke, but its a good read. btw, happy birthday! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 9 2008, 07:06 PM |
| Just a little update before bed....... ***************** Takumi sighed again, resting his chin on his hand as he drifted through the corners of Mt. Akina, traveling back home after an early meeting with the Speed Stars and some fruitful lessons teaching Iketani and Itsuki some of his more advanced moves. It had been an eventful few days for him recently, and it had all started when he had taken Kichirou for a ride in the Subaru. He was now back in the AE86, much to his father's delight, and devouring the mountain with an almost insane fervor, spending every free waking moment behind the wheel. It terrified Natsuki, who thought he was running away from his sick father, but Kichirou and Bunta both understood, and the two old friends had frequent conversations about how to use Takumi's newfound obsession to the best possible advantage. As the AE86 slid through the turn through weight-shift alone, Takumi thought back on his encounter with Ryosuke earlier that day. His mentor had been in terrible shape, uncharacteristically flustered and almost confused. He had just been rear-ended at an intersection by a Skyline GTS-T, the rear bumper of his RX-7 hanging by a few fasteners. After settling the insurance and speaking with the police, Ryosuke had followed Takumi home to speak with Kichirou, who had insisted time and time again that they race on Tochigi after all, and drop one of the other courses. Ryosuke had reluctantly agreed, sensing a trap. That much was obvious from his mentor's facial expressions, and the fact was brought home when Ryosuke had asked Takumi to chase him up and down Mt. Akina as a warm-up for the night's battle, a favor that Takumi had willingly granted until Kichirou left for Tochigi, Ryosuke trailing listlessly behind. Teaching the Speed Stars had been fun and simple, and a good boost for his ego. They admired his abilities, even when he didn't think much of it himself. The simplest act of shifting the car's weight was, to them, an advanced technique to strive for, even though Iketani and Itsuki both had plenty of exposure to the technique thanks to Mako and Takumi. Still, it had been good for him, and helped bring back some of his natural happiness. Now, as he sped down the mountain, he shifted into second for the corner and drifted through, enjoying the feel of his front tires pulling the car through, the rears slipping effortlessly, letting the car slide sideways even as they thrust it forward. It was as he was transitioning through the corner that a white flash cut in between him and the inner guardrail, rapidly taking the lead. Takumi instantly switched from his showy drift to his battle style, in hot pursuit of the intruder. The two cars streaked down the mountain, the open section gone, with only the tight corners and the infamous five hairpins remaining. The two battled desperately through the highly-technical course, each one passing the other as the AE86 excelled in corner exit, while the challenger, a white NB8C, obliterated him on corner entry. As the corners became tighter and more drastic the NB8C's lead began to jump ahead, a meter or two at first, and then whole car lengths, forcing Takumi to use the one-handed steer, imperfect though it was. Surprised by the new style, Itsuto temporarily lost some of his lead, but they still battled furiously, although now with a friendly edge to their ferocity. Itsuto and his white Miata blocked the inside of the hairpin, but Takumi drifted through without hooking the gutter, effortlessly overtaking. At the end of the course, as the two cars flashed over the unofficial finish line dead even, Takumi motioned for him to pull over. “What are you doing here?” Takumi asked. Itsuto got out of his car and walked over, shrugging his shoulders. “I thought you'd be in Tochigi watching Ryosuke. Thought I'd get in some practice on your course so I could challenge you again, like I promised. You're getting better,” he said, eyeing the AE86 suspiciously to see if there were a few new tweaks. “I didn't want to,” Takumi replied honestly. Itsuto seemed shocked. “Why?” “He's not himself. Today was proof of that. His FC was damaged at an intersection, losing its bumper. He taped it back on and had me chase him up and down this mountain. I watched his bumper flap in the wind. I wouldn't be surprised if it's fallen off by now. He went to Tochigi to race with my father's friend. I'll hear about it tomorrow morning from both of them. I'll watch when they get closer.” “Lazy,” Itsuto said, shaking his head. “Tochigi isn't that far away.” “It is when you have to feed this machine,” Takumi replied, walking over to look at Itsuto's gleaming Mazda. * Ryosuke fought desperately to bring Kichirou's tail lights back into sight, but it was becoming a losing battle and his mind was now searching for a way to manage and minimize the loss, rather than forge a win. The FC's engine was upset, unable to build boost properly. Being rear-ended had impacted the exhaust system hard enough to crack a few of the studs that held the exhaust manifold to the rotor housings, letting hot exhaust gas leak out before hitting the turbine. Although he didn't know the exact reason why, Ryosuke knew something was seriously wrong with his engine. It barely made any power until 6000 RPMs, and then until redline was a short burst of weak boost. The red FC was screaming through the corners even though Kichirou was holding back, and Ryosuke knew it. “I can't lose to you,” Ryosuke muttered, gripping the wheel tightly before relaxing his grip. He was getting wound up for nothing. The FC was damaged and he was racing on a course he wasn't prepared for. Of course, there was one chance, even though he had tried and failed once already. Kichirou glanced in the mirror and smiled. The white FC had caught up, helped no doubt by the fact that he had let off the throttle a bit, and was now attempting to overtake. They were screaming past another uncovered drain, and Ryosuke bit eagerly into the corner, sending more than half his car over the drain and thumping down onto the other side. Stressing his limited slip differential to the breaking point Ryosuke kept his foot to the floor, actually passing Kichirou through the corner, although a new problem developed. How was he going to get his car off? Pumping the throttle Ryosuke jerked the wheel and popped over the open drain, grinding his frame on the gutter. Kichirou drew alongside, using the superior power of his perfectly-maintained FC to draw even and then effortlessly overtake. * “Did you just wash this?” Takumi asked, admiring the carbon fiber hood and trunk that now adorned the simple car. “I had to,” Itsuto replied, wrinkling his nose. Shaking his head to clear the unpleasant memory he popped the hood open and showed off his latest efforts. “After our race I had to put in a new transmission and an engine too. You're expensive to race against, Fujiwara. I was going to put in a built high-compression motor with individual throttle bodies, like yours, but it was too costly. So I built up an engine and supercharged it again. I like the feel, it's nice and responsive. Would you like to drive it?” “Really?” Takumi asked, looking at the little car. Itsuto tossed him the keys, and, after carefully parking the AE86 out of the way, they climbed to the top of Mt. Akina. “So who is this Kichirou guy?” Itsuto asked as the NB8C screamed through the corner at a narrow slip angle, the rear tires chirping over the asphalt as the Torsen limited slip differential fought to keep the power going down through both contact patches. Takumi liked the feel of the steering, a balance of modest weight and crisp response. The engine, too, was a smooth rush of power, more quiet than the 4A-GE. Able to push the car without focusing so hard on driving he began to talk. “Kichirou is a friend of my father's. He races on a professional team, but he's wanting to retire from racing and take over team management. Kichirou wants Ryosuke to drive for him,and Ryosuke can't decide between becoming a doctor or racing. The decision rests on who wins a monster battle over a bunch of courses. It's ridiculous,” Takumi said, shaking his head as he nailed the apex perfectly, the NB8C's powerful brakes hauling the little car down from speed and letting him flick it effortlessly into the corner. * Ryosuke watched in frustration as Kichirou's red FC crossed the finish line first, a full six seconds before his own white FC managed. Pulling over Ryosuke sighed, unable to ignore the temperature guage that accused him of abusing his car. He popped the hood, burning his hands on the hood and catching a face full of steam and cooked oil. Spluttering and wiping his face, Ryosuke stepped back and looked at the carnage. For the first time he noticed the damaged exhaust manifold, and saw the mark of the exhaust gases that had leaked through. “Hmm, I did that once,” Kichirou commented, peering over Ryosuke's shoulder before walking back to his car. Ryosuke felt like a child, an angry child that rarely lost and was now ashamed in front of a massive audience. The White Comet, the rotary engine master, the street king of Japan had been effortlessly defeated by a virtually unknown outsider in front of a massive audience. It was humiliating, and Ryosuke's face turned red. * Bunta rolled over in his bed and wheezed, feeling better than usual. “So, you beat him?” he asked. Kichirou nodded, handing over a piece of paper with the section times and the course times written down in clean neat columns. “Good, good. He was faster than you in the middle segment though,” Bunta said, looking at the paper through sleepy eyes. “You've got it wrong, Fujiwara. That's my time for the middle segment you're looking at. Even with his damaged engine, Takahashi was faster than me for two thirds of the course. I was just able to destroy him in that middle section and pull far enough ahead to win, and by a good margin too. When he realizes that he'll be even more frustrated. Of course, he won't know that I was going easy on him. As we get closer and closer to Akina I'm going to reveal more and more of my skill, really scare him. I'll attack him with full strength on Akina, and if he can even draw me into a tie, I'll hire him.” “Be careful with ties,” Bunta said, mumbling around his breathing tubes. “How so?” “He destroyed that car to beat me last time we raced. He might do it again. I wish I could race him once more,” Bunta said, sighing sadly as he ran a pale hand through the stubble that remained of his hair. “If you had taken better care of yourself,” Kichirou said, shrugging. “I hope Takumi will be as good as him,” Bunta whispered. “If it'll make you feel better, Bunta, Takumi is already as good as Ryosuke is and can look forward to being faster. Ryosuke has incredible skill, but he can only access it when he doesn't try to overthink things. He overthinks too much. When he races from his heart, he's unstoppable, and I'm trying to get him to realize that and tap into it. Takumi doesn't overthink. He instinctually knows what to do and does it. He took me for a ride in the Impreza, Bunta, and he scared the piss out of me. He's worse than you are, even if he doesn't realize it.” Bunta smiled weakly, feeling his eyes overcome by the weight of the day. Unable to keep his open any longer, Bunta closed them and fell asleep, the smile still on his face. Kichirou looked down at his old friend, tucked the blanket close, and then left the room, switching off the light as he shut the door behind him. “Bunta, I wish you learned your lesson sooner,” he sighed, walking down the hall, his shoulders bowed as he worried about his mentor. |
| Posted by: xmark Apr 9 2008, 10:28 PM |
| Four thumbs up including my foot Nice update as usual... Takumi is worse than crazy Bunta, what if Takumi gets older he will have the God Hand and God Sight's skill... |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 10 2008, 04:21 AM |
| Itsuto! Itsuto returns! Ryousuke got destroyed out there, but I think his FC took most of the pain. Nice to see the Fujiwaras feeling more happy too. Get well soon Bunta! Looking forward to the next chapter! |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Apr 10 2008, 07:07 AM |
| man that was great, keep up the good work, A++ go have your self a drink or two |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 10 2008, 07:49 AM | ||
Another great chapter.
It's good to see Takumi getting a little happier again. The true battle between Ryousuke and Kichirou has yet to begin. All the more reason to look forward to it I hope Bunta gets a little more time to live. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Apr 11 2008, 08:52 PM |
| Finally got a chance to catch up on all of the updates. Great job you two!!! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 12 2008, 04:15 AM |
| It's actually been just me for this last slew of updates as RC7 has been swamped under his own workload. ********** Keisuke looked at his brother with no small amount of wonder, and, to be perfectly honest with himself, the surprise he felt at his brother having lost was mingled with an obscure happiness to see him in such an angry, unsettled mood. “So you lost?” Keisuke asked, bracing himself for the hurricane. Ryosuke's eyes snapped open, blurry for a moment, then focused on his younger brother with a malignant stare. “My engine was damaged, it wasn't making any boost.” “So why race? I thought that happened when you got rear-ended. This isn't like you, aniki. You're always calm and levelheaded, never jumping into decisions or rushing things. What's going on?” Keisuke asked, realizing suddenly that although he was obscurely happy that his brother was so out of sorts, he was also concerned for his health. “Because I said I would, so I did,” Ryosuke replied, falling quickly into silence. Finally he spoke up again. “At the hospital there's a man there, his name is Fujiwara. I had thought nothing of it, but part of me was afraid to go and visit him even though he's in my area because I didn't want him to be related to our Fujiwara. The man was there for lung cancer, a large tumor in the upper lobe of the right lung. Dr. Shima removed it and the patient has been under intense chemotherapy to beat it back into submission, since we caught it before it metastasized. The outlook for him is actually pretty good. It still doesn't change the fact that Fujiwara Bunta, one of the few people to ever push me past my racing abilities, is in my ward and in need of care. To be honest with you, Keisuke,” Ryosuke said, rubbing his sleepy eyes before opening them and focusing once more on his brother, “it makes me uncomfortable.” “What do you mean, uncomfortable?” Keisuke asked. “It's one thing to handle sick people when you don't know them. You turn them into their disease. Cancer in bed four, tuberculosis in bed eight. When you know the man, who he is, who his family is... it puts a kind of pressure on me that I've never felt before.” “But why on you? The doctor is the one responsible, not an intern.” “Do you think I'd stand idly by while one of my best driver's father is dying? I'm there all the time, checking in on him, making sure he's got everything he needs. Tatsuya has scolded me for it, and I may lose my job there because of my behavior, but I can't rest knowing he's in my hospital, hurt and sick, needing help. I have to help him.” “I don't know what to say,” Keisuke said, and indeed he didn't. He'd never been in a situation like that before, and he had no helpful advice to offer. Instead, he turned back to what he knew. “So you lost against this Kichirou guy?” “Yeah,” Ryosuke sighed, “yeah, I did. I would have beat him if it weren't for the engine. Now I've got to fix everything I burnt up because of my irresponsible actions. Don't rush hot-headed into things, Keisuke, and you'll save yourself a lot of money.” “So what happens now?” Keisuke asked. “Now I fix the engine, exhaust, and bumper between now and the next race, which will be a week from yesterday. If I can pull everything together, I might have a decent shot at beating him. It's going to be Irohazaka this time. He raced in Tochigi but cut Ibaraki and Saitama. I'm thinking of fixing up the engine and tuning it down to around 260 HP, maximize it for response. With all those hairpins I think the two killing factors will be engine response and how quickly one can transition from full throttle to full braking to full throttle again as we go around the hairpins. Takumi's challenger in the white Roadster was incredible at that.” “Well, go talk to him,” Keisuke suggested, getting up and walking out into the driveway. Ryosuke watched him go, ate the rest of his sandwich, and then got into the FC. Cranking it up he cringed to hear the unhealthy coughing sounds the engine was making, but steeled himself to limp it over to the shop for repairs. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Apr 12 2008, 04:27 AM |
| Ryosuke finally woken up...can't wait 'til the next race! |
| Posted by: tiQlado Apr 12 2008, 04:28 AM |
| I can just hear that poor FC coughing and spluttering down the street... Great update! And even greater to see Keisuke around! |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 12 2008, 04:30 AM |
| Could Ryousuke of really beaten Kichirou if the FC wasn't damaged? I wonder. Awesome chapter, although sad to hear about RC7 being swamped. Cant wait for the next! |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 12 2008, 06:13 AM |
| Best wishes to the White Comet's FC. I hope you get better soon Another great update. Short, but sweet. Sad to hear about RC7 being swamped. I hope his workload lightens soon. |
| Posted by: twitchykun Apr 12 2008, 09:59 AM |
| well written, nice story, it's got what i like in a 'fic. Keep it up. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Apr 12 2008, 06:40 PM |
| great up date |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 13 2008, 06:49 PM |
| Just a head's up, my laptop's power cord was damaged beyond repair today. I've got a new one on order, it'll be here around Wednesday, at which point I'll be able to do another update. Plenty of other fics around here you guys can read in the meantime, right? |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Apr 13 2008, 07:36 PM |
| great updates, i don't know how you find time to write all these, i can barely visit this forum with all the last minute things i need for finals. Curse you threaded trees!  |
| Posted by: xmark Apr 13 2008, 09:03 PM |
| Its sad when Ryosuke felt the pressure on Bunta |
| Posted by: Jem Apr 14 2008, 05:05 AM |
| WOW! First Fanfic I read and its great! Great work! |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 15 2008, 05:59 AM |
| Sorry to hear about your power cord thx. Best of luck on getting a replacement. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Apr 16 2008, 07:39 AM |
| I'm back!!! And I've got some great stuff for Yall!! Still no cup of water vid but you. Will have a nice update VERY soon! |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 16 2008, 08:03 AM |
| ^To that, I have to give two letters, two numbers and one exclamation point. w00t! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 20 2008, 04:36 PM |
| While I'm waiting for his update, here's mine. ************* “Your son seems to be interested in only one thing. All he talks about, all he seems capable of thinking about, is automobile racing,” Sora said, looking at Bunta with torn feelings in her heart. Takumi could have been so many things, could have gone on to triumph in so many different careers, and yet he was firmly rooted in the world of the automobile. Tires, gasoline, crankshafts and valves were what he knew, countersteer and oversteer were his friends, and the ability to push any car past the ragged edge came from no one else than the tired old man lying on the hospital bed. “It runs in the blood,” Bunta said, looking at his wrist where a few drops had seeped past the IV drip and onto the white linen of the bed. “He scared Kichirou, Bunta. No one scares Kichirou. He came inside white as a sheet, muttering to himself, and Takumi came in after with a grin on his face big enough to pilot an airliner through. I don't deny that you've done a good job with him, but what if he had other dreams? What if he wanted to be an artist?” Bunta looked at her with a strange smile. “He is an artist. Racing is art. The new generation focuses on the science of racing, traction coefficients of pavement, tire compounds, engine efficiency. Artists of driving are a dying breed. They drive their cars by feel, losing themselves in the car, becoming part of the machine, becoming the machine. He'll never be defeated as long as he loses himself in the machine.” Bunta nodded off to sleep soon after, and Sora slipped out of the room and back to the tofu shop where Natsuki was finishing off an order. “You're getting good at this,” she said, helping Natsuki take the big tub out to the Corolla and load it into the hatch. “I'm surprised they placed such a big order in the afternoon,” Natsuki replied. “I know. It'll be dark soon. Still, they're having a convention up there and they're running short. Where's Takumi?” Sora asked, wiping her hands on her apron. “I'm here,” he replied, walking into the alley and popping the hood on the Trueno. “What are you doing?” Natsuki asked. “Adjusting the throttle linkage. It lags a little bit. Anyway, I'm ready to go,” Takumi said, shutting the hood with a thunk and smiling at Natsuki. “Finish the delivery quickly,” Sora said before walking inside, Natsuki following closely behind. Takumi smiled and slid behind the seat, put the key in the ignition and fired up the engine. The individual throttle bodies, high-compression pistons, and header combined to create the almost painful crisp burble of the engine as it warmed up. With the motor idling as smoothly as it could, Takumi shifted into first and took off. Going up the mountain was always boring, but today it was a new challenge. Drift uphill without breaking the tofu, get done as quickly as possible. Takumi had never attempted to drive very hard on the uphill, but something was boiling inside him since his drive with Kichirou and it wasn't going away. The pressure was building and building until it felt like he was going to burst. Anger and stress over his father, frustration over his home being invaded by well-meaning strangers, and at the core of it all the feeling of scaring Kichirou on the downhill in the Subaru. Now he had to attempt one better. “I'm going to defeat him on the downhill in the hachi-roku,” Takumi said, shifting up and flooring the throttle. |
| Posted by: Tofuboi Apr 20 2008, 06:12 PM | ||
Direct quote from the new Speed Racer Movie there. Awesome update as always! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 20 2008, 06:15 PM |
| YES! Someone else knows! Isn't that the coolest movie? I can't wait for it to come out. I've always thought of our dear Fujiwara Takumi as being a very slightly more realistic Speed Racer, so I thought I'd do homage to both. |
| Posted by: DK_2 Apr 20 2008, 07:42 PM |
| plagirism i tell you!! JK JK. hehehe i was like when i read it. i had to read it over like 3 times. |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 Apr 20 2008, 07:58 PM | ||
i can't wait either, it inspired my username on here(DrifterX ~ Racer X). Good update, clears my mind from all the studying. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 21 2008, 12:37 AM |
| Yahey! An update! Drift the uphill? Think about the tofu Takumi! Think about the tofu!! |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 21 2008, 01:44 AM | ||
Yay! An update! An actual update!
Yay Speed Racer! Takumi has drifted on the uphill before while carrying tofu. But as he said in First Stage: Compared to drifting uphill with the water in the cup, drifting downhill with no water in the cup is so easy it makes him sleepy. It is possible for him to pull off one drift uphill with the tofu in the back. But it's going to be quite an achievement for him if he can drift all the way uphill without spilling even a drop of water. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Apr 21 2008, 08:40 AM |
| Good little update, cant wait for more |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Apr 21 2008, 06:22 PM |
| well guys finally got the update sent to THX, gotta let him proof it, then see if he'll even post it. this little update went in a different direction than usual...so you'll have keep your fingers crossed and hope that you'll even get to see it. i think it adds to it.... |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 22 2008, 05:33 PM |
| It was finally Saturday and the galleries were packed at Irohazaka as the crowd waited in anxiety for round two of the greatest battle on the touge that the current generation would ever witness. This would be a night to remember for years to come. Ryousuke and Kichirou, followed closely behind by Takumi and Keisuke, rounded the curve to turn to the uphill junction of Irohazaka. They had a friendly climb together as the four carelessly threw their rear ends around the sharp uphill hairpins, almost like cracking a whip. It was fun for the four to just revert back to simple pleasures, to just drive. All four cars, the Two FCs, Takumi’s immaculate Trueno, and Keisuke’s mechanical masterpiece of an FD all drifting in unison. Not for a reason, not for something to prove, just for fun; just to feel alive and a part of something that was bigger than themselves. Kichirou knew it was important to have as much fun as possible on the way up because it would help Ryousuke free his mind from his troubles and inner complexes. He had to get Ryousuke to feel less worked up and to quit thinking so much. His greatest strength was now becoming his greatest weakness. If Ryousuke could learn to race, and let his speed come from his heart rather than his mind, he would be more free to formulate a strategy and launch an attack, a lesson that Kichirou had learned a very long time ago. With that combination and practical theory it could turn those truly great drivers into gods of the touge, a fact that Kichirou realized all three drivers behind him were well on the way to becoming as they rounded the last hairpin and resumed a much more conservative pace as they entered the long straight leading to Irohazaka’s parking lot. The welcome was not quite what they were expecting. The Emperors had formed a long line with their Evos, all with their brights shining into their faces as they came up the hill, forcing them to come to a stop. After Kichirou and Project D came to a stop the Evo headlights were finally turned off to reveal Kyoichi followed by Seiji walking directly toward the four drivers as they climbed out of their cars. Keisuke being the former gangster, he noticed the clenched fists that Kyoichi and Seiji were both sporting. “So what the hell makes you think can just show up on Irohazaka unannounced without my permission?!” Kyoichi growled directly at Kichirou. “Excuse me?” Kichirou responded, taken aback by the younger man's angry attitude. “You heard me! This is the Emperors turf and if you want to show up here you gotta clear it with us. As far as I’m concerned you won’t be setting foot here for a very long time!” Kichirou’s patience and composure were wearing thin. Even Ryouskue felt his hands clench into fists, undoubtedly fueled by the inner fire of frustration that raged inside him from his overwhelming responsibility of the elder Fujiwara and this extreme form of a challenge that he was now competing in. Kyoichi’s blood boiled as the three drivers to ever beat him stood before him, ready to once again erase his name from the mountain as the fastest and disgrace his legendary team yet again. He would die before letting that happen once more. “Listen, what I came here to do has nothing to do with you or your team. This is strictly between me and Ryousuke. So if you could please move aside and allow us to settle what we came here to do we can be out of your presence very shortly,” Kichirou said, trying to be respectful but in a way mocking him at the same time. “Well as leader of the Emperors I’m saying there will be no racing here tonight. Especially between two pathetic cars such as your ancient decrepit FCs!” Kyoichi growled daringly. Ryousuke felt himself make a step forward, but his composure told him to stop. “Fine. We’ll leave. Besides, I wouldn’t want two pathetic cars to shatter your speedy little record at the same time, anyway,” Kichirou retorted, growling under his breath. Kichirou was about to get what he and Ryousuke had both been dying for. “W- what did you say?!” Kyoichi stammered loudly as he watched in shock as the drivers began to walk back towards to their cars. Kichirou still wasn’t finished manipulating Kyoichi’s mind, an ability he was incredibly skilled at. He had more than one reason for it, as this would serve more than well enough as a perfect stress relief for Ryousuke. “Oh and by the way,” Kichirou continued, “I wouldn’t recommend trying to chase me down again…. unless you want to lose to four cars at once.” Kyoichi finally snapped, and he and Seiji began to rush Kichirou and Ryousuke from behind as Takumi and Keisuke watched in horror and fear at what they thought was about to happen. Kyoichi was headed straight for Kichirou and swung with all his might from behind, but Kichirou knew it was coming, an instinct developed from warding off disappearing line attacks from fellow professional racers. He swiftly side-stepped the punch and grabbed Kyoichi’s arm and, using his momentum, Kichirou brutally pulled him into his elbow. A gruesome crunch was heard as Kyoichi’s nose broke on impact with Kichirou’s leather-clad elbow, and then again as his head impacted solidly with the concrete. Kichirou had just enough time to turn around to witness Ryousuke gracefully grapple Seiji’s attempted attack and flip him over his shoulder fast enough to have Seiji smack his head on the hard concrete. A classic Judo move and appropriate for a man such as Ryousuke. Kyoichi was clutching his bleeding nose and moaning in pain, laying on the ground as Kichirou stood over him and pulled out an expensive hankerchief embroidered with the words Tsubasa Racing Corporation and the slogan Where Legends Are Born and Built underneath it. He tossed it on to Kyoichi’s face as he calmly spoke to him. “Here, plug your abnormally large nose with that, and maybe next time you’ll be more careful to keep it out of other people’s affairs. Some respect wouldn’t hurt either.” Kichirou looked at Ryousuke who, despite breathing heavily from the adrenaline, now had a look in his eye as if he had just had an immense weight lifted from him. “So you ready now?” Kichirou asked. “Yes, more than,” Ryosuke replied. Kichirou finally addressed the other members of Emperor who were standing there dumbfounded, some with their mouths actually hanging open. “Now if you all would be so kind, we’re going to need some spotters if you think you’re up to it.” “Uh- uh- uh- sure!” they replied as they scrambled into their Evo’s to see who could be the first to accommodate the racers in their needs and be of any help. “Finally! Now that’s more like it!" Keisuke exclaimed from behind as he came up and clapped both Ryousuke and Kichirou on their shoulders as he beamed back and forth from one to the other until finally the three finally burst out in laughter while Takumi still lingered behind in shock. “I will never understand racers…” he thought hopelessly as he tried to grasp what had just happened. The team finally arranged into their cars and lined Kichirou and Ryousuke’s FCs side by side as they both gleamed beautifully in the moonlight, with an almost identical idle. “Hey Takumi, you wanna do the countdown?” Keisuke asked. “Me?” “Yeah you! You’re the only other one to have ever won a race here, I think you should do it. There’s a first time for every thing,” Keisuke said. “Yeah, sure! Why not?” Takumi now replied happily. Fujiwara centered himself between the two beautiful machines, raised his arms, and began the countdown. “San! Ni! Ichi! GO!” |
| Posted by: .M. Apr 22 2008, 05:59 PM |
| MOAR PWEASE, and lol a kyoichi and sejji getting their respective asses kicked |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Apr 22 2008, 08:10 PM |
| haha! thats a good one... loved this scene, but now its time for the real action |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 23 2008, 12:34 AM |
| Ninja Ryousuke strikes! Judo flip! That was the most unexpected, but awesome thing ever. Kichirou's comments were priceless.  Can't wait for the next chapter. |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 23 2008, 01:11 AM | ||
| I would've expected Seiji to act like that. But that was rather unexpected of Kyoichi. Looks like Ryousuke's not the only ninja here.
|
| Posted by: tiQlado Apr 23 2008, 03:39 AM |
| Go NinjaRyousuke!! But damn, I have a pic for it, I just don't have it here! Ah well. For another time! YAY! |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Apr 24 2008, 08:36 PM |
| This epic is getting better with every update! |
| Posted by: Koykis Apr 25 2008, 08:11 AM | ||
Sorry for the late quote but I just caught up... Do you realize how inspiring these words can be? This is the best fanfic I've seen so far. Keep up the great work guys! Thanks! |
| Posted by: Rudy Apr 25 2008, 10:31 AM |
| That seems very Second Stage of Kyoichi to act like that, but hey, it's your fanfic, not mine. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 25 2008, 12:21 PM |
| Koykis - thanks for the kind words about my own words. That's precisely how I feel about racing, and I'm glad you were able to gain some meaning from what I wrote. Reiji - This latest update is RC7's, and he was nervous that I wouldn't even put it up. I did because I feel RC7's words show Kichirou has very little compassion for those in his way. Rather than Takumi's constant conflict with honor (his difficult decision racing the EA11R, for example), Kichirou is a person who will hurt those in his way blocking him from his goal. It's cold and almost brutal, but it's an essential part of his character and, as Ryosuke has mentioned in 4th Stage, winning is winning, even if there is no honor in it. |
| Posted by: DK_2 Apr 25 2008, 04:12 PM |
| soo when are the updates???!?!?!?!?!??!?!? |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 25 2008, 06:58 PM |
| NOW! THE UPDATE IS NOW! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! IT'S ALL ME!!!!! ACTION! RACING! ADVENTURE! A SMART TAKUMI! FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYING! ********** Kichirou slammed his foot to the floor and rocketed forward, his adrenaline still pumping from the encounter with the idiot Evo driver. Ryosuke's white FC was pulling ahead, due no doubt to its freshly-tuned motor and the younger man's faster reaction time. As they barreled along, Kichirou tried to decide if he was going to fall in behind Ryosuke and pass him at the second bridge or if he would stay in front and block. Given the white FC's slightly stronger motor, Kichirou took the inside of the first hairpin, forcing Ryosuke out of the way and definitively taking the lead. Ryosuke ground his teeth in frustration, feeling his reactions become clumsy and hesitant. “Come on Takahashi, I know you're better than this. What will it take for you to realize it?” Kichirou asked, glancing in his rearview mirror at the tense young man behind the wheel of the opposing FC. The two raced downward, Kichirou yanking on his emergency brake to spin the red FC through a few hairpins in an attempt to provoke Ryosuke. It seemed to work, as the white FC was soon hard on his tail, brights shining in his eyes, feinting to either side in an attempt to pass. “Good. I've got him in the zone. Now it's time for some serious fun,” Kichirou chuckled, shifting his feet around so he could begin using one foot for the throttle and one for the brakes. Diving hot into the tenth hairpin, he manipulated the pedals and sent the car screaming through sideways, rear tires belching smoke that blinded Ryosuke as he followed through in a faster grip style. Ryosuke switched off the high beams and hit the fog lights to penetrate the tire smoke, punching through and flooring it on the short straight before pushing down hard on the brakes, his rotors glowing bright red in the night as he swung through the hairpin, balancing the throttle as best he could to keep the rear end in check. * “This is turn twenty! Ryosuke is breathing down Kichirou's neck! It looks like he's going to try passing at any moment,” the radio screamed, the voice on the other end a Red Suns member and obviously excited. Takumi felt himself growing slightly jealous of Ryosuke. When he had raced on Irohazaka the thought of passing during a hairpin was almost unbelievable. “How do you think he's doing?” Keisuke asked, seeking Takumi's advice. The young man blushed for a second, unsure of being the center of attention. It seemed that everyone on the top of the mountain suddenly focused on him, hanging on his every word, waiting to hear his analysis of the situation unfolding as the two masterminds battled down Irohazaka's tortorous hairpin curves. “Well, the course is very tight and it's hard to pass people in the first portion of the race. The hairpins aren't very wide, and the straights are very short. Their turbochargers can't spool up fast enough to make enough power. The advantage there is given to the car that spools up faster. I think Ryosuke's FC has the lead there, since he just rebuilt the motor. He's behind though, which means Kichirou thinks Ryosuke's car spools up faster. Since he's in front, Kichirou can block Ryosuke which is a lot easier than trying to pass. This way, all he has to do is block Ryosuke through the hairpins and then use his greater control over his car to win the race. It's easier.” “Will he jump?” Keisuke asked. “Ryosuke or Kichirou?” “Either,” Keisuke replied. “It depends. Corner 33 is where it starts to become a viable option. Depending on how close or far the two cars are from each other, I could see Ryosuke using it as an option before Kichirou would. All Kichirou wants to do is break Ryosuke.” “What do you mean by break?” Fumihiro asked, concerned for his friend. “I overheard him talking to Sora, his wife one day. He thinks that Ryosuke's failing is his analytical abilities. Ryosuke thinks through the situation, running the simulation in his mind. Kichirou believes he over-analyzes it and he weakens himself, keeping him out of the race. Then they had some long talk about driving as an art over being a science, but it got boring and philosophical and I went and did something else,” Fujiwara said, blushing slightly. “I still don't understand the break comment,” Fumihiro said. “Kichirou plans on frustrating Ryosuke so much that he loses his concentration and just snaps, breaking into a new level of driving, right?” Keisuke said, beginning to understand. “Yeah! He said that Ryosuke, when he isn't aware that he's racing, has an incredible ability and control over his car. When he's racing he's under so much pressure to win that he reverts to a safer but slower style of driving. Kichirou's been working on frustrating him ever since he first met Ryosuke,” Takumi said. “Amazing. My brother used to comment that I amazed him with my ability to go fast without thinking. He used to talk about how much faster I would go if I could think of what was happening as I drove. Now he's having to give that up in order to catch Kichirou. I'm kind of scared,” Keisuke said, shuddering at the thought of his brother becoming even faster. “I am too,” Takumi said, picturing the two Mazdas racing down the hill. If they pushed too hard, someone or something was going to get hurt. * Kichirou stared at the coming hairpin with rapt attention. This was the one, the corner where everything changed, the corner where the entire race could be won or lost. This was the corner where Ryosuke would make his move if he was going to make one, and his reaction to Ryosuke's attack would dictate the winner of the race. Kichirou dove into the hairpin hot, his front rotors glowing from the heat. The brakes were beginning to get soft, even with the oversized slotted rotors he had fitted. The red FC slowed down hard, throwing his body against the wide straps of his harness. Just when the wheels were about to lock up he let off the brakes, cranked the wheel over quickly, and rolled into the throttle, the engine screaming up higher and higher as it fed thrust to the rear wheels, pushing the car through the hairpin and down the straight. Ryosuke watched as the red FC effortlessly pulled away and, without even pausing to think, he launched his FC over the edge, soaring through the air and crashing back down with a shower of sparks less than a meter behind the red FC. Kichirou looked in his mirror, recognizing the pattern of the falling headlights, and smiled. Ryosuke had broken. “Good boy. Now that you're ready to play, let's play,” he said with a devilish grin, shifting into the next gear and flooring it. |
| Posted by: Drew Apr 25 2008, 08:07 PM |
| Ninja Ryousuke's gone insaaaaaaane! Awesome update thx! |
| Posted by: Meteor Apr 25 2008, 08:13 PM |
| And the race has just intensified. Tonight, there's gonna be a new record on the Irohazaka slopes. I wouldn't be surprised if all the trees of Irohazaka suddenly burst into flames from the heat of battle. Looking forward to the next chapter. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 26 2008, 06:00 AM | ||
Uhm, okay... So now the battle shifts up a gear. I wonder if it won't just be Ryousuke who gets broken. Can't wait for the next chapter, and oh yeah... MOAR FLYING ADVENTURES WITH SMART TAKUMI PLZ |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 26 2008, 07:53 AM |
| I claim no responsibility for my posting abilities at 3:58 AM. |
| Posted by: 207 Apr 26 2008, 08:36 AM | ||
JW ,how do you go about posting the chapters? do you write it in microsoft word 1st then copy and paste into the actual post? |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 26 2008, 08:48 AM |
| I use OpenOffice, write a few pages with proper formatting (first sentence of every paragraph is indented, spaces between paragraphs, etc), and then post. I usually sit down, write for half an hour, and then post it. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Apr 26 2008, 06:41 PM |
| good stuff, I look forward to the next chapter |
| Posted by: 207 Apr 26 2008, 07:44 PM | ||
ty, just keep up the good job writing. i look forward to the next chapter. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 Apr 27 2008, 05:36 AM |
| Wow! Takumi has grown so much. |
| Posted by: tiQlado Apr 27 2008, 06:07 PM |
| Freakishly awesome! I know what he's gonna do next! |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 28 2008, 01:54 PM |
Awesome image! Sunday has given me a ton of energy for writing, and we should have a nice big fat update tomorrow since I'll be getting off of work at 4 instead of 6, and I don't have any classes. In the meantime, two photos.  That's me hauling ass through the slalom in the wet, hence the silver wheels with my wet tires. And my audience during that time?  Yes. Aside from a small cluster at the right, every single one of those people happens to be a cop. They were drooling. |
| Posted by: .M. Apr 28 2008, 03:58 PM |
| ahhaha atleast theyll know not to try to chase you in any twisty roads -.- |
| Posted by: thx712517 Apr 30 2008, 03:23 AM |
| Not as big an update as I was hoping for, but here's a bit for you guys until I can come up with more. ************ Kenta felt nervous, standing at the 35th corner with his ever-present video camera and a radio, waiting for the two masters to make their way through. There was a sudden twin rev in the distance, followed by the scream of tires and a flash of lights as the cars came flying downward. Focusing the camera, Kichirou's red FC appearaed first, drifting sideways down the straight, rear tires churning up massive amounts of smoke as he deliberately blocked Ryosuke from passing. The two cars screamed down the short straight and both lifted off their throttles, their engines suddenly dying away into silence. Kichirou's car rushed past first, suddenly going to full throttle with enough noise and fury to hurt Kenta's ears. Ryosuke saw Kenta standing off the road and grinned, feeling wicked. He kicked in the clutch, silencing the 13BT, cranked the wheel over and, with the rear end pointed straight at Kenta, he floored it. Unrestricted by any kind of exhaust the scream of the rotary engine pierced through the air and thumped Kenta in the chest, sucking the air out of his lungs. Ryosuke smiled, then returned his focus to his pursuit. “With him blocking the road like that, I'm going to have to go and do something drastic,” he said, watching Kichirou drift down the short straight, completely blocking him from passing. Coming up on the next hairpin, Ryosuke hit the brakes hard and turned the wheel over, rolling back into the gas and sending the FC over the edge, crashing down side by side next to a very surprised Kichirou. Ryosuke rubbed his mirror along Kichirou's door, smiling as he did so. The two cars revved and shot down the straight, but Kichirou was on the inside of the turn and able to force Ryosuke back once more. “This is getting interesting now,” Kichirou said. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Apr 30 2008, 03:36 AM |
| Mazda FC3S RX-7 : 2 | Kenta : 0 Poor Kenta, getting bullied by a couple of FC's. I agree with Kichirou, this is getting interesting. MOAR. |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 1 2008, 06:15 PM |
| Takumi and rotary engines..... geez dude, get a room. ******************** “Do you think my brother has a real chance at winning?” Keisuke asked, surprised to find himself looking to the younger Fujiwara for guidance and hope. “I think he does, if he can get past his brain and just drive,” Takumi said, glancing over at his hachi-roku. The little car was calling to him, asking to be driven. Tired of waiting to hear about Ryosuke's eventual hard-won success, Takumi began edging toward the 86, thinking about chasing the others. “What are you thinking of doing?” Keisuke asked suddenly, noticing that Fujiwara was running his hand up the fender of the AE86. Takumi blushed and opened the door, sliding into his seat with ease. “I was thinking of catching up and watching them cross over the finish line. Interested?” Takumi asked with a crooked smile. Keisuke felt his eyebrows raise up involuntarily. “That's not possible. They're already at the 39th hairpin turn. You couldn't catch up to them if you tried,” Keisuke said, crossing his arms and glowering at the young Fujiwara. A sudden wild thought popped into Takumi's mind, one that would never have entered his brain if it hadn't been for Keisuke's challenge. “Let me drive your FD and I'll put you at the finish line ten seconds before your brother,” Takumi said wildly, a wild glint in his eyes. Keisuke dug the keys from his pocket and threw them to Fujiwara. “If you don't, you owe me dinner.” * Ryosuke grunted to himself, trying to keep his concentration as he fought with Kichirou. The older man was in complete control of his car, using it to block any attempt at passing and forcing Ryosuke to use inferior lines. It was frustrating, but at the same time Ryosuke knew he had to remain calm in order to have a chance at winning. The hairpins were coming to an end soon, and then he would have his chance to truly battle with Kichirou and put the older man in his dust. The next hairpin approached, and with incredible ease Kichirou flew through as fast as he had at the very first corner. Apparently his tires hadn't overheated and his brake rotors hadn't baked his brake fluid, something that Ryosuke found difficult to believe. Kichirou was coping with his car's degradation incredibly well. Hitting the brakes hard, Ryosuke slowed down for the hairpin, lifting off the brake and rolling into the throttle sooner then he thought he should have, but the slight delay between pressing the pedal and the turbocharger spooling up gave him just enough breathing room before the FC lunged forward. The brakes were getting spongy and grabby, making his braking zones difficult to judge, and the intercooler had heat-soaked a long time ago, killing the turbocharger's kick. Still, Ryosuke felt his shoulders beginning to relax and his mind unwind as the stress melted away and he began to have fun. It was enjoyable, slinging the FC into the turns with wild abandon, pushing as hard as he could to overtake Kichirou. “I didn't think an FC could do that,” Ryosuke found himself saying over and over again as he watched Kichirou manipulate his red rocket down the mountain. They finally finished the hairpin section, with the white FC glued to the bumper of the red FC as they hit the open sections and acceleration became important. Cutting the corner tight Ryosuke kept his foot to the floor and let the g-forces drift his car outward, dead even with Kichirou as they barreled down the straight, shifting within fractions of a second of each other. It was going to be an incredibly close race. Unlike Ryosuke's previous races there was no weakness to exploit in his opponent's car, and his challenger was too well-developed to have a simple chink in his armor. Ryosuke realized with a shock that he was the weak one, that his car was the one being exploited and his techniques were being manipulated. Awed, Takahashi wondered what chink there was in his armor. * Keisuke supressed the urge to scream but it was taking all his effort to do so. Takumi hadn't been joking and was in the process of making his promise true. The yellow power-mongered FD was screaming down the hairpins, jumping corners and drifting with the rear tires billowing smoke, the engine bouncing off of its rev limiter. “You break it, you buy it,” Keisuke managed to say, his throat dry and threatening to close completely. “Alright,” Takumi said, focused completely on the task at hand. The FD was incredibly balanced and had far more grip than the AE86, letting Fujiwara push the car harder than he thought possible. Shrieking through the next corner, Takumi pushed harder and harder until the front end of the car began to shudder and skip. The front tires had stalled out, losing their grip completely. The FD was understeering straight toward the guardrail and Takumi was dimly aware of Keisuke screaming in horror as his precious automobile slid toward inevitable destruction. Kenta saw the yellow FD hurtling towards him, the front wheels cranked hard over but not gripping the road at all, and promptly fainted. With a vicious kick of the throttle Takumi was able to regain traction with the front tires at the last possible second, missing the rail by fractions of a millimeter and continuing downhill in quest of the battling Fcs. “I'm never letting you drive my car again after this,” Keisuke swore. Takumi smiled and turned his attention back to the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Just once is enough.” |
| Posted by: Meteor May 1 2008, 07:05 PM | ||
| This battle is getting particularly interesting. Hmm. . Is Kichirou running some hard compound tires on his wheels by any chance? And did he fill 'em up with nitrogen or something?
Poor Kenta, getting the wits scared out him like that. More Takumi-scaring-the-frak-out-of-Keisuke material yay! |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 1 2008, 09:01 PM |
| awesome update, short but sweet... i wonder what ryosuke and kichirou will think/say/do about takumi trying to beat them down the course... |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat May 2 2008, 06:39 AM |
| “I'm never letting you drive my car again after this,” Keisuke swore. Takumi smiled and turned his attention back to the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Just once is enough.” buwahaah I love it, keep up the great writing |
| Posted by: jpn6438 May 4 2008, 02:36 AM |
| Your last couple of updates is awesome! Amazing how Takumi has improve. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 4 2008, 06:09 AM | ||
Ditto x2. I can't think how fast Takumi would need to go in order to pull off finishing the course before the FCs do. I guess its RX-7 : 3 | Kenta : 0 now MOAR. |
| Posted by: Koykis May 4 2008, 09:10 AM | ||
Someone must teach Takumi the left foot braking technique More please |
| Posted by: RX7FC3S May 5 2008, 04:27 PM |
| i like i idea of 2 FCs i love it actually now alll you need is someone who is from a rival racing team following the battles who drives a 1995 Volvo 960 like thise one. http://forums.turbobricks.com/showthread.php?t=52060 lol im joking even though it would be halarious to see takumi get in this and outdrift people in a volvo 960 estate. lol |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat May 10 2008, 05:44 PM |
| any updates? |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 10 2008, 08:51 PM |
| “This is the last hairpin. Ryosuke and Kichirou passed through two minutes ago, but something just screamed through here! It was a yellow streak moving faster than I've ever seen a car go! Who was it?” the radio screamed. Fumihiro picked up the radio, nerves shaking his hands badly as he did so. “That was Takumi. He's determined to overtake Ryosuke. Tell the corner workers, every corner worker, to keep their eyes open and be ready.” Far below roaring down the straight Ryosuke and Kichirou battled it out, their mirrors rubbing together as they fought for every millimeter of the track that they could, treading over each other's lines, forcing each other to hit the brakes sooner than was perfect, turning in later than was right. The two FCs were perfectly matched, the drivers at an unparalleled level of perfection as they fought. Ryosuke tapped the brakes and turned hard, sending the white FC diving into the turn and cutting off Kichirou, keeping him at bay through the apex. The two cars evened out and rocketed away, their turbines spinning up fast, sending massive amounts of thrust to the rear wheels. Ryosuke pushed his foot to the floor and felt the engine spin up, then the kick of the turbo as the tachometer swung rapidly toward the redline. “This is the first bridge! I can see their headlights!” the radio shouted. “Where's the FD?” Fumihiro barked. “He can't be anywhere near here, Fumihiro! It's impossible.” Suddenly the radio cut out. Far below, at the first bridge, a screaming yellow rocket flew over the bridge, flames pouring from its exhaust as Takumi revved up the powerful 13B. “The odds are against him,” Fumihiro said. “It's dangerous work, but I think he'll see it through,” the radio replied. The galleries were torn, unable to decide which driver to cheer for. Ryosuke and Kichirou were battling for ultimate supremacy of Japan's streets, but Fujiwara Takumi was within a hair of overtaking them both and crossing the finish line first. Inside the FD, Keisuke felt like he was going to scream. Every corner came exploding into view, the apex passing by before he was even aware it existed. The FD's engine was continually singing at its redline, Takumi shifting through the gears with inhuman speed and precision. With his foot to the floor, Takumi began to drum his fingers on the steering wheel, bored even as the FD eclipsed 200 KPH on the straight. “It may not be ten seconds, Keisuke-san. Will you be okay with five?” he asked. “I'll be okay if we don't die,” Takahashi replied. With that as his incentive, Takumi thundered over the second bridge, catching a glimpse of tail lights in the distance. It was going to be close. |
| Posted by: DK_2 May 10 2008, 09:01 PM |
| shit! so epic. MOAR please.... |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 10 2008, 09:07 PM |
| Ryosuke caught a glimpse in his rear view mirror of a familiar set of headlights, but shook his head, thinking he was insane, and returned to the battle. “I can see the line,” he murmured as his FC roared onto the second bridge. Driving over the far end the expansion joint threw his rear tires into the air, waggling the FC's tail just enough to make him grip the wheel tightly. From behind, Kichirou breathed a sigh of relief and began to overtake. With Ryosuke's concentration shattered, the white FC was beginning to lose ground. The third bridge was in sight. They were driving down the winding two lane road when a sudden ear-piercing scream came from behind them. “I can see it,” Takumi said suddenly, the line becoming clear. In one fluid motion he whipped around Ryosuke's FC into the left lane, overtook him, dodged into the right lane, squeaked past Kichirou, and thundered over the third bridge. As the FD screamed over the finish line Takumi yanked on the emergency brake hard, forcing the worn-down brake pads to clamp down on the overheated brake rotors. The FD spun around just in time to see Kichirou flash over the finish line, Ryosuke at his door. Keisuke popped his door open, fell out onto the pavement, and staggered upright. “Give me my keys,” he growled. Takumi threw them over, the adrenaline surging through his body. He had done it. The galleries were in complete silence, unsure of what to do, if anything. Ryosuke fell out of his FC, his legs and arms sore and stiff. Kichirou climbed out of the red coupe, his shoulders aching from fighting with the steering wheel. The two drivers looked at each other, and then walked toward Takumi. Kichirou placed his hand on Fujiwara's shoulder and looked into the young man's eyes. “Go home and rest. We'll be very busy tomorrow.” Ryosuke watched the two for a moment, then turned to his incredibly pale and sick-looking brother. |
| Posted by: DK_2 May 10 2008, 10:10 PM |
| OMG. that's crazy shit!!! wtf. he did it!! he made it look easily. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 May 10 2008, 10:53 PM |
| That was an awesome race. Maybe Kichirou will consider Takumi for his team |
| Posted by: Meteor May 11 2008, 03:17 AM |
| Takumi. . Actually did it? HE REALLY IS A GHOST! All in all, it was an epic battle. And I'm definitely looking forward to the all the other battles in this fic. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 11 2008, 03:39 AM |
| Go Takumi! I wonder what he'll do next race? Overtake them in Kenta's S14? Kichirou really should reconsider asking Ryousuke to be on his team, I agree with jpn6438, Takumi is better! *screams the M word* |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 11 2008, 07:19 AM |
| awesome update... that crazy takumi, got a lil bored for a moment... too skilled |
| Posted by: 207 May 11 2008, 11:41 AM |
| omfg! that battle was epic. i wonder if Kichirou will forgo a battle BC of the battle btwn the 3 rx7. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat May 11 2008, 12:25 PM |
| Takumi has surpassed Bunta, they need to race, that was insane keep up the great work. |
| Posted by: xmark May 11 2008, 06:42 PM |
| wtf... Takumi is now a GOD! |
| Posted by: 94hondaaccord May 12 2008, 06:35 PM |
| Nice update!!!! But we need some more & WAY more often if possible |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 12 2008, 06:49 PM |
| The next bit will be done by Red Comet 7, who's working on it as we speak. |
| Posted by: Meteor May 13 2008, 12:53 AM |
| So rc7's workload has finally let up? Sweet! Looking forward to the next update, as usual. |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 14 2008, 06:21 PM |
| RC7 sent this to me a little while ago, so I stayed up later than I would have liked to format it and post. Interesting developments here, I had a difficult time reading some of it. The Akagi race should prove to be interesting when it develops. ************* Kichirou walked slowly to his FC with a quick angry pace, and with enough energy to make it seem as though he had just drove to Irohazaka on a whim and cruised down on a leisurely drive rather than an intense all-consuming battle to the finish. Ryousuke looked at Kichirou in amazement, then turned his attention back to his pale brother. “Let’s go home, I need a long rest and some time to analyze everything that’s just happened.” Kichirou overheard Ryouske’s words and clenched his fist in frustration. “Damn that Fujiwara! He’s ruining everything!” he muttered bitterly. He was going to have a long telephone conversation with Bunta once he got home. Takumi was feeling incredibly proud of himself and exuberantly told everyone goodbye and good night, as he felt he had made an amazing accomplishment; when in fact, he couldn’t be farther from the truth. * The next day, after everyone had woken up and trudged downstairs, Sora cooked everyone in the Fujiwara house a nice breakfast. For some reason Sora seemed to be the only one interested in speaking to Takumi. Kichirou ate in silence until he finished, set his utensils carefully to the side, and very coldly spoke to Takumi. “Get dressed, we’re going to see your father. I’ll be waiting in the car,” Kichirou snapped as he grabbed the FC’s keys without another word and walked outside. “Um…okay…” Takumi said, uncertain of the mood. It had been a while since he had seen his father and he would enjoy telling him the story of the previous night. He quickly put on one of his favorite O’ Neil shirts and grabbed his New Balances from beside the bed and hurried out to the idling FC, notcing that it was now idling much smoother with a different and more aggressive exhaust note coming from the titanium muffler. Takumi hopped inside and briefly glimpsed the tachometer and was shocked to see it holding a perfect, strong idle at 750 rpms without moving a millimeter. “Ryousuke’s never sounds like this…It sounds different from last night…” Takumi began to say, but Kichirou dropped the clutch and shot out of the market street and onto the main road before Fujiwara could manage to finish his thought or even fasten the Takata harness. It was a silent drive to the hospital, as Takumi was beginning to wonder more and more what could be the reason behind Kichirou’s anger this morning. They arrived at the hospital and rather than park the RX7 Kichirou just pulled up to the front door and stopped. “What are you doing?” Takumi asked, not sure about this change of pace. “I’m not doing anything. You on the other hand are going up to see your father, he has some things he needs to talk to you about. I don’t need to be here for what’s going to be said.” Takumi’s heart dropped. “No!” he cried, “It can’t end like this…” Takumi looked at Kichirou with shocked and pleading eyes. Kichirou returned the gaze with a cool glare of his own, a look that froze Takumi in his seat. “I’ll see you tonight on Akina.” Kichirou then cruised out of the parking lot and left Takumi’s mind whirling as he entered the hospital and stepped onto the elevator, dreading the news he was about to receive from his father. * Kitami Jun was just finishing the installation of a bigger turbo into an EVO VIII when a familiar white FC drove in front of the garage door and revved its motor twice, the blowoff valve hissing loudly. Kitami smiled and wiped off his hands, then set down his ratchet on the tool box and walked forward to meet Ryousuke as he stepped out of his FC. “So how is it treating you?” Kitami asked, even though he already knew it was perfect. “It runs great. It’s an amazing machine. But it seems there’s another machine out there…one much more amazing than this.” “Oh, and what would that be?” Kitami asked, looking forward to the challenge. “A red FC. Driven by a racer named Kichirou Tsubasa.” There was a long silence as Kitami stared at the concrete, then looked towards Ryousuke’s FC. The memories were swarming his head. He could hardly believe his ears. “I haven’t seen that car in along time,” Kitami finally sighed, his voice shaky. “So you do know it?” Ryousuke asked sharply. “Oh yes, I know it well. After all, I tuned it.” Ryousuke was shocked. He took a step backwards as the news he had been dreading began to seep into his head and began to prick his brain and force his imagination into overdrive. “If the Devil Z is my favorite, that car is definitely my second,” Jun said softly. “I raced him last night, down a mountain pass known as Irohazaka. He was incredibly fast in the corners, but as he entered the straights you could tell something was not quite right with his car. It was as if his engine had more response and power in corners, but once it hit the straightaway something was holding it back ,even though I could hear him going full throttle.” Kitami began to grin, and finally began to laugh hysterically, leaning against the black Porsche in the middle of the shop to keep himself from falling over. Ryousuke was taken aback by the man’s reaction. “How much do you know about Tsubasa?” Kitami asked daringly as Ryousuke’s heart began to pound. Ryousuke knew he was about get a crash course on just who and what his opponent was. * The elevator came to a stop and dinged as the doors slowly opened. Takumi hesitantly walked own the hall to the wing his father was in and found his name plate on one of the doors. He was sick to his stomach, and placed a trembling hand on the knob. He could only dread what his father must look like now, weakened from the disease. Takumi slowly entered the room and was in utter shock to see Bunta sitting perfectly upright, in his bed thumbing the bed remote to find a better TV channel. Bunta turned his head towards Takumi, and they both stared at each other for a long silent moment. Finally Bunta solemnly ushered Takumi toward to him. “Come here Takumi,” he said solemnly. Takumi closed the door carefully and walked slowly toward his father and braced himself for whatever news was coming about his father’s future coming to an even quicker end. But the message he received wasn’t what he was expecting. Once Takumi reached the side of the bed, without hesitation, Bunta hit Takumi across the face with a slap that sent him crashing to the floor with shocking force , especially considering that it came from a sick man who was sitting in bed. Takumi was in utter shock, and it took him a few seconds to regain his bearings and keep himself from blacking out as he sat holding himself up with his palms, the color draining from the rest of his face as it rushed to the red imprint of Bunta’s hand left on his face. Takumi didn’t know what to do or say. It was too much for him to comprehend, and before he realized it, he felt tears beginning to pour down his face at an uncontrollable rate. He slowly stood back up and faced Bunta’s searing angry expression. He had never seen his father this mad, not even when he dinged up the Trueno or damaged the tofu when he first started doing the deliveries. Bunta finally broke the silence with a voice that was unnaturally strong for the position he was in. “Since when the hell did you become a show boat?!?” Bunta roared. “W-W-What?” Takumi stuttered, shocked. “Kichirou called me last night and gave me a very vivid story on how your happy ass decided to enter the race yourself and then felt the need to beat both of them. All just for the point of winning a pointless argument with Keisuke. I thought I raised you better than that. Did you think about anything before you decided to go on a joy ride?” Takumi could say nothing. He could hardly comprehend what was being said. “Let me fill you in on what you managed to accomplish last night other than just crossing a damn line a few seconds ahead. Kichirou has come here to recruit Ryousuke for his racing team, and you know better than anyone that Ryousuke has always been reluctant to enter the professional racing world. Kichirou is smart, and whether you or anyone from Project D realize it he’s smarter and faster than Ryousuke is. Ever since Kichirou and Ryousuke have started battling, Kichirou has been feeding Ryousuke information. And the funny thing is, is that Ryousuke is not getting just one kind of info, he’s getting two. Half of it is to help Ryousuke realize what his technique is missing and try to get him to utilize parts of himself that he hasn’t yet tapped into. And the other half is to set Ryousuke up for the biggest loss he’s ever suffered. Kichirou and Ryousuke made a deal that if Kichirou could defeat Ryousuke then he would race for his team. Ever since the races have begun, Kichirou has put an illusion in front of Ryousuke’s face that he has yet to realize, partly because he over-analyzes things so much to the point that he can’t realize what’s happening right in front of his face. He’s too busy trying to formulate his own strategy that he’s yet to even consider the fact that his opponent may have a strategy of his own.” Takumi was now sitting on the floor taking in everything his father was saying, as he was now starting to grasp what this was all about and why everyone was so angry with him. “The only way Ryousuke has a chance in hell is if he starts racing with his heart and natural talent instead of his head all the time. Kichirou knows that this strategy will surely bring down an over-thinker such as Ryousuke, and the only thing that can stop it is if Ryousuke stops analyzing and just drives, releasing the speed he can achieve from finally letting go. It will be the only thing that can hold off Kichirou’s strategy. Then it will truly become a battle that’s on equal terms.” Takumi slowly stood up as he began to feel smaller by the second. “The point I’m trying to make Takumi is, by jumping into that race, you not only acted like an ass and proved how much of an amateur you still are, you risked everything Kichirou has worked so hard at putting into place. You almost ruined the illusion, and not only that instead of getting Ryousuke to let go, you now have him working overtime to not only find a way of his own to win, but also to figure out your speed as well. You’ve set everything back. Ryosuke was so close to finally letting go and actually driving….but instead you just gave him one more thing to keep his mind in control.” Takumi was overwhelmed that he had made a fool of himself and risked everything. Once again his father was right about everything and Takumi couldn’t stand in front of his sick father knowing that he had failed him so miserably. “I’ll come back tomorrow…” Takumi said with a lump in his throat. He began walking towards the door as the tears began to flow even faster. “Takumi.” Takumi stopped and waited for his father’s voice. “Tonight, meet Kichirou on top of Mount Akina. He’s going to give a few lessons on what it’s like to be real racer. Bring the Eight Six. Tonight, you’ll lose again, but gain so much more.” Takumi closed the door behind him and slowly entered the elevator and, as it fell, Takumi felt his confidence do the same. * Ryousuke waited in anticipation as Kitami walked over and placed a hand on his FC. “Kichirou Tsubasa is an amazingly talented driver. One of the best in all of Japan. As you know he drives an FC. Well, at a very young age he entered the professional circuit-racing world and began to race for Mazda piloting an FC. This was before the era of the track-prepped FD. He dominated the circuit for a few years, and one day, got into a wreck during one of his races. One of his opponents tapped his rear bumper and spun the car into a pole, totally destroying the rear end. It wouldn’t have been worth it to salvage the car since the season was almost over and that series was soon to be replaced with the newer FD. After the wreck, he talked his manager and team owner into letting him have the engine out of the race car. That same engine now sits under the hood of the red FC you know. After the season ended and the FCs were retired, he secured all of the race-spec 13BT motors from his team for himself, and currently owns them all to this day. I've seen his storage unit where he keeps them, rows of engines, gleaming in the dark. I know that when I last spoke to him he had four in his possession, all in mint condition. He really is dead set on doing whatever it takes to keep that FC of his running forever. And the engine he has in his car right now will probably out live him.” “So a race-spec 13BT is under the hood of Tsubasa’s FC?” Ryouske asked, his mind in awe. “As far as I know, yes. When I tuned it there wasn’t much more I could do as far as the internals went except to slightly enlarge the porting work. The motor was designed to endure long races under extreme conditions, which makes it suitable for street use. The only other changes made to it have already been made to yours as well.” Ryousuke was in awe of the resources at his opponent's disposal and the thought of what his car was capable of shook him to the core. “Rotary engines are a marvel in themselves, Takahashi. Something about them is magic, you can’t really measure horsepower the way you would a normal engine, it's almost as if their power can’t really be described in normal terms. If you look at nature, some of the most powerful forces can be found in rotation, like tornadoes and hurricanes….and something even more peculiar…the rotary engine follows the same cycle as the earth itself spinning on its axis and orbiting the sun. A path that continues perfectly forever…flawlessly… If you look at those similarities…it’s hard to imagine what kind of power the rotary engine is truly capable of. There are characteristics of those motors that surprise me to this day. And Takahashi, if there is such a thing as the perfect rotary engine, Tsubasa has one sitting under the hood of the machine he drives”. Ryousuke was soaking up every word that poured from Kitami’s lips like a sponge. “That vehicle in the hands of a good driver would be more than capable of destroying whatever competition came its way on the track, but in the hands of Tsubasa, especially on the street, it can only be described as an unstoppable force. As far as the characteristics you mentioned…If I had to guess, I’d say he has it detuned specifically to mess with your head, and make you think it has less power and capabilities that it really does. He’s a pro racer with an amazing talent and a very bright mind, driving one of the most amazing cars I’ve ever laid eyes on….I’m sorry to say Takahashi, before all this even began, you never had a chance in hell.” |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 May 14 2008, 06:46 PM |
| The first line had me scratching my head: "Kichirou walked slowly to his FC with a quick angry pace..." Also, it seems a bit unfair to get mad at Takumi. Yes, he did mess things up, but he didn't know this giant master plan. |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 14 2008, 06:48 PM |
| awesome... i had a hunch that kitami jun would be thrown into the mix somewhere... too bad for takumi tho. in any other situation, they probably would have been proud of his accomplishment, instead of what he got from kichirou and bunta... i cant wait for the next update, its getting pretty heavy. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat May 14 2008, 08:18 PM |
| poor takumi, come takumi win on the downhill |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 15 2008, 12:28 AM |
| Bunta is Bunta again, yaaaaaay! Kitami provided a bit of educational info about Kichirou. I thought after he mentioned the wreck that Kichirou would have been hospitalized or something but thinking about it more it was just a rear end smash, worse thing he could have got was whiplash (which I'm sure theres safety devices in place to prevent that anyway). M O A to the R. Edit: Typo. I wrote Bunt instead of Bunta. |
| Posted by: Meteor May 15 2008, 12:49 AM | ||||
OHHHHH YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH! Poor Takumi. He made the mistake, but I still feel sorry for him. Kichirou's past was interesting to read about. And I'm still looking forward to the all the next chapters.
Q to the F to the T. |
| Posted by: xmark May 15 2008, 07:24 PM |
| Its getting more interesting... I cant wait for the next update... It felt like a real anime with a much better story line... IMHO |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 17 2008, 06:42 PM |
| So I massively upgraded my laptop. Slapped in a gigabyte of RAM, popped in a new hard drive that brought me from 40 gigabytes to 80 GB. Fun machine, this. I enjoyed writing this update. It's funny, you can tell who wrote what simply by looking at one name. Ryosuke. I use the spelling used in the Initial D subtitles I've watched, while RC7 favors Ryousuke. ************** Sora set down another plate in front of Takumi before sitting down and glancing across the table at her husband with an affectionate smile, trying to lift the heavy mood of the dinner table. Takumi's face was still pale, and she could see faint marks left behind in the shape of an open hand. Kichirou was gloomy and scowling into his plate, his fingers clenching his chopsticks so tightly they made faint cracking sounds. “Did you have a pleasant meeting with your father?” Sora asked hopefully, trying to get Takumi to cheer up. Instead his eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, the exact opposite reaction she had wanted. Kichirou snapped one of his chopsticks, sending the other flying across the room. He sighed deeply and pushed the plate away, then looked at his wife. “Takumi and I are going to go to Mt. Akina for a training session. I think the two of us need to blow off some steam from today, and it'll be good for us. Do you mind cleaning up here?” he asked. She shook her head and smiled. “Of course not. Just let me finish eating and then I'll get everything taken care of. Takumi, which car will you be taking?” she asked. “The Subaru,” Takumi growled, glaring at Kichirou. He was going to crush the old man into the dirt, even if it took the monstrously powerful Impreza to do it. Fujiwara rose from the table and walked out, letting the door slam behind him. The two could hear the Impreza's engine roar to life and settle into a quick and steady idle. “Sora....” Kichirou sighed, looking at the table with unfocused eyes. “What dear?” she asked. “It's happening too soon.” “What is?” she replied, worrying for Bunta's health. “He's fine,” Kichirou said, sensing her thoughts, “it's Takumi. He's progressing too fast. You know Bunta, whenever he's under great stress he somehow channels it into his driving and gets faster. His son is like that too. Except for Takumi, it isn't just stress during battle. It's any stress. Last night he was able to overtake Ryosuke and I on Irohazaka after giving us a lead of more than half the course. I was angry with him, and Bunta was too, because it derails our plans with Ryosuke. We're running out of time here, I know,” he added, looking at her bulging stomach, “and I'm doing my best to hurry.” “So you're saying that Takumi is taking in all this stress from us being here, his father's sickness, his whole life, and it's making him a faster driver?” Sora asked, breaking away to wave at Natsuki who was entering the front of the shop to help with the tofu for the morning's order. “He is. Bunta knew it would happen eventually. He doesn't want it to happen now. If Fujiwara hits the next level before being prepared for it, his development will become chaotic. He could be the greatest driver Japan has ever seen, or he could be a freak, an idiot prodigy. Bunta and I want him to become incredible, and that means nursing him slowly up to this new level. I've got to calm him down tonight, and I'm not sure I can.” “How can you?” she asked. “I have to defeat him. It's the only thing I know of that will calm him down, because it will make him doubt his abilities.” * The blue Impreza growled over and over again at the base of the mountain as Takumi blipped the throttle, waiting for Kichirou to make his move. The red FC stayed in its place, engine idling quietly. “Are you going to race me or are you going to sit there acting like a hooligan?” Kichirou asked. “I'm going to race, if you're ready. Are you?” Takumi asked, feeling more aggressive than usual. The stress from his father being sick and slapping him, being abused for triumphing over Kichirou and Ryosuke rather than celebrated, it was all frustrating. The red FC suddenly exploded into motion, launching itself up the mountain with incredible ferocity. Kichirou wasn't going to hold back. He kept his foot to the floor, slamming into the next gear without lifting even though it sent terrible shocks through his drivetrain and threatened to shake the rear tires loose. Takumi was already in motion and screaming after him before his mind had a chance to comprehend what was happening. The two cars raced uphill, accelerating faster and faster as they climbed, their engines roaring with power as they climbed at full throttle. The first turn came, then the second, followed by a short straight. The Impreza kept to the inside at the entry of the corner, drifting outwards due to its massive power as Takumi kept his foot to the floor throughout the entire corner, using his other foot to balance the car with gentle pressure on the brakes. Kichirou followed the late apex line, letting the Impreza get out of his way before diving for the inside and nipping at the blue coupe's heels. The two fought bitterly for every centimeter, but Kichirou realized with increasing desperation that the Impreza was slowly, inexorably, unstoppably pulling ahead. The five hairpins passed by, the Impreza slamming into the rounded curbs to lift the inside wheels over the turns, shortening its distance traveled by meters at a time. Kichirou was in awe, but shook his head and focused. If he didn't win or at least tie, his best friend's son could be ruined for life. The red FC howled in pain as it attempted to catch up, its engine under considerable stress as the turbocharger kept pouring hot compressed air through the intercooler and into the motor, putting dangerous pressure on the apex seals of the rotors. The high-strung race spec rotary was beginning to falter as Kichirou did everything he could to reel in the rapidly disappearing Impreza. “I can't let him beat me, I can't!” Kichirou cried, his heart torn as he alternately mourned the possible destruction of Takumi's racing career and admired the young man's prowess. The blue Impreza tore through another corner, its chassis more favorably biased toward the gradual curves than the more agile FC. Even with that handicap, Takumi was able to manipulate the heavier car better than Kichirou could handle his FC. “Such car control,” Kichirou said, awestruck. It had been a long time since he had raced with someone on his level other than Bunta. Takumi was the diamond in the rough, meticulously polished over the years by Bunta, more valuable than Ryosuke, more agile, capable of better control and possessing far greater talent. But would it be fair? Would it be fair to deny a dying father his son's attentions during the last few months of his life? The circuit, or rally, would consume all of Takumi's time. The enormous stress of his father passing away would... would... Kichirou blinked, shocked as the realization hit him. They had arrived at the peak of the mountain, and the Impreza was already pointing the other way with its engine revving to antagonize him. How much faster had Takumi been? “Are you even trying?” Takumi asked, privately feeling very happy. He had dominated the uphill climb, putting a massive amount of distance between the two cars considering the skill level of the drivers involved. The downhill, however, was where battles were won and honor was earned. It would be the downhill where Kichirou would suffer his ultimate fate, Takumi decided. “Takumi, I wanted to tell you something,” Kichirou said, getting out of his car. “Then tell me at the bottom of the mountain,” Takumi snapped, anger turning his face red as he remembered his rough treatment throughout the day. After being yelled at and berated by Kichirou and abused by his father, Takumi's usually calm demeanor began to crack. “Fine,” Kichirou said, letting go of the Impreza's door, understanding the tone in Takumi's voice perfectly. He had used the same tone of voice with Bunta one stormy night on Akina many years ago under similar conditions. He just hoped Takumi wouldn't experience the same things he had, the effects of which he still felt. Kichirou flexed his right leg slowly, listening to the familiar cricketlike chirp as his foot flexed through its limited range of movement. That had been a painful night. * “Kichirou, are you alright?!” Bunta cried, racing through the heavy rain and throwing open the mangled door of the red FB, ignoring his own car for the moment out of his concern for his friend. The wrecked coupe was wrapped around a tree, the left side almost completely obliterated. The force of impact had sprung the driver side door open, warping the entire body of the car around the tree and buckling the roof. The 12A rotary, deprived of oil due to its shattered oilpan, blew its apex seals and seized up with the sound of nails shrieking over a blackboard. Kichirou looked up, blood streaming freely down his face from the slice in his forehead where his head had made friends with the steering wheel, dimly aware of his friend's face looming large over him and wearing a look of incredible concern. “I'm... fine...” * Kichirou shook himself back to the present and released his white-knuckled grip from the door, sliding inside and settling into the seat. If he pushed Takumi too hard, the young man would hurt himself and, more scarily, Bunta's precious Impreza. “Are you ready or not?” Takumi asked for the final time. Kichirou nodded and revved his engine, enjoying the smooth hum of power as the tachometer needle touched the redline and came rocketing back down again, proof positive of the incredibly light flywheel and aluminum pressure plate. “If you think you can keep up, Takumi, then I'll race you down. Don't kill yourself. Remember,” Kichirou said, sighing to himself as he said it, “I'm a professional racer and you're a hot-headed amateur.” Takumi gripped the steering wheel of the Impreza tightly, his fingers denting the soft leather of the wheel. “You keep saying you are, but I'm not so sure,” Takumi said, blipping the throttle. Kichirou smiled, feeling eerily like they were re-enacting the relationship between himself and Bunta years ago. The two cars sat there, their engines revving up and down once, twice, and then three times, with Takumi side-stepping the clutch and using the superior traction of the all wheel drive system to put two car lengths on Kichirou right from the beginning. The FC spun its rear tires for three precious seconds before the hard compound tires caught hard and propelled the coupe forward. The two ran down the straight at full throttle, slamming up the gears without lifting off their respective throttles. The Impreza, with its bigger displacement engine and capability to handle more boost than the weaker rotary, was gaining a meter a second. The torque advantage of the boxer and the stratospheric amount of boost it could hold more than made up for the Subaru's heavier curb weight compared to the more nimble FC. At the first corner Takumi rolled into the brakes hard, the Subaru's rotors glowing red as he slung the blue coupe sideways through the corner, all four wheels scrabbling violently for traction as Takumi cornered with reckless abandon, flinging the Impreza through the corner and laughing as he did so. Akina was his home, his course. He had driven up and down the mountain every day, over and over again, for years, in every kind of weather, in the AE86 and in the Impreza. There was no stopping him, especially not by an egotistical nostolgia-loving racer past his prime and searching for a successor but too cowardly to ask outright. “I'll show you the best driver,” Takumi said, pushing harder. The Impreza responded exactly how he wanted it to, offering up gargantuan amounts of torque and craving more abuse. The agile boxer motor screamed through the revs, highly responsive and strong. The whole car was solid, feeling like it had been carved from a solid block of steel rather than the light and almost rickety AE86. Still, the addition of the rollcage in the hachi-roku had tied it back together again, masking the defects of age and its extensive damage. It would need the touch of Kitami Jun before it would be back like it used to be when he had first climbed the mountain. “For a nineteen year old idiot, he can drive,” Kichirou said, keeping an eye on the all-important temperature gauge. The motor, built as it had been for racing, hadn't seen such constant abuse like this before. It took every ounce of his machine's abilities to keep up with the more powerful Impreza, even though he could handle better and delay his braking longer. Takumi, so used to winning due to having a lighter car, had adapted to the heavier coupe perfectly and was revelling in its superior thrust. “You're so used to winning through braking and handling,” Kichirou said to himself as he studied Takumi's moves, “and yet you're able to win now using power alone. Brute force. I'm impressed, young Fujiwara, very impressed.” The two cars hurtled down the mountain, fighting endlessly through every corner, struggling for the perfect line and coming dangerously close to smashing fenders and bumpers. Kichirou's left mirror was dangling from the door by a thin electrical cable, thumping against the door and undoubtedly knocking off big flakes of expensive red paint. Growling, Kichirou forced his way into the optimal line around the next corner, scraping down one side of the Impreza as Takumi muscled for the same line. Fujiwara felt the horrific grinding and felt his anger skyrocket. “How dare you!” he shouted, losing himself as he realized his father's precious car had been damaged. They were rapidly approaching the five hairpins, and Fujiwara knew exactly what he was going to do. His anger and rage and frustration was boiling over as the enormity of the day overwhelmed him. Diving into the first hairpin Takumi let his lead drop until Kichirou was right on his tail. Hopping into the second hairpin, Fujiwara hooked the Impreza deep, then kicked the clutch and throttle within fractions of a second of each other, spinning out the Impreza and smashing the front of the red FC with the rear bumper of the Impreza, sending the rotary coupe crashing into the guardrail. Both cars sat there, the Impreza's engine ticking from the heat and the FC's engine grinding to a halt, its oil pan crushed to pieces. Takumi let out a deep shaky breath and began to sob, his shoulders heaving and tears pouring from his eyes as everything came rushing out of him. His father, the only person he wanted to please, had hit him for showing how good of a driver he was. Bunta had never hit him before aside from a few bops on the head then and again, but he had never used such an angry voice with him. To hate a dying man was cruel, but Takumi couldn't deny that he had, just for one moment as he had lain on the floor with the print of his father's hand still fresh on his face, wished that Bunta would hury up and die. Suddenly he stiffened in his seat, remembering Kichirou. Takumi fought with the harness for a few moments, then fell out of the seat and scrabbled across the pavement toward the wrecked red FC. “Kichirou, are you alright?” Takumi cried, throwing open the mangled door of the red FC and ignoring his own car for the moment out of his concern for his father's friend. The wrecked coupe had struck a tree straight on after smashing through the rail, ruining the front end and killing the engine. Kichirou looked up, blood trickling slowly down his face from the small cut in his forehead where his head had made friends with the padded steering wheel, dimly aware of Takumi's face looming large over him and wearing a look of incredible concern. “I'm... fine...” “I'm taking you to the hospital. Can you move?” Takumi asked. Kichirou nodded, groaning as the pain shot through his neck. He slowly eased himself out of the FC and trudged up the steep bit of hill back onto the road, sliding into the Impreza's passenger seat carefully. The two drove in silence to the closest hospital, and Takumi didn't speak until Kichirou had been locked into an examining room with a tender and attentive nurse. “What did you do to him?” Nakazato asked, dropping into the seat next to him. “Eh?” “Your friend, the old man. Cut on his head, bruises on his arms, torn shirt. Looks like he was in an accident. Since we're so close to Akina, I figured you were racing,” Nakazato said, leaning back in the uncomfortable hospital chair to look at Takumi better. “We wrecked. I... wrecked him. I used my car to crash him into the rail. For just a second, I wanted to kill him,” Takumi said, horrified at the words coming from his mouth. Nakazato looked at the young man's red eyes, the deep shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his unusual thinness. “You've been under a lot of stress lately,” Nakazato said. “You've lost weight. You aren't sleeping. You've been crying. I was like that once,” he added. “What did you do?” Takumi asked, looking up and noticing a smear of blood on Nakazato's white shirt. “Stopped driving for a while. Put the GT-R in a garage for a few months and got around on a bicycle. One night I was unable to sleep. My foot was itching. I went to the garage and got my car. I drove Myogi like I'd never driven it before, learning every corner anew. It was necessary. Sometimes, Fujiwara, you need to take a break,” Nakazato said, returning his gaze to the floor. “Why are you here?” Takumi asked after a few minutes of silence. Nakazato sighed deeply, picking at his shirt for a few moments to focus his mind before replying. “Sayuki drove the R34 tonight in a battle against a white Toyota Supra. She almost had him. Almost. But he lost control going through a corner because all his torque had burned up his rear tires, and he hit her. Sayuki tried to catch the spin, but it didn't happen. The R34 is a twisted heap at the bottom of Myogi. She's got a broken arm and a few bruised ribs. I brought her here with help from Shingo. I think,” he said with another sigh, “that it's time for another break.” Kichirou appeared in the waiting room, swathed in bandages and limping slightly, a cell phone in his hand. “Are you okay?” Takumi asked. “I'm fine. I had a friend take care of the FC. We've got one more visit tonight, and then it'll be time for bed,” Kichirou said. “Where are we going now?” Takumi asked, nodding to Nakazato as they walked out into the parking lot. “Kitami Jun. The FC, and the Impreza, need a little attention.” * Kitami Jun looked at the red FC, his hands resting on his hips, a wrench in his back pocket. The front end had been damaged badly, and the engine had been destroyed. The roof was still in good shape though, as were the doors. He chuckled for a few moments, a chuckle that soon developed into a laugh, a laugh that became maniacal in its intensity. Kichirou looked at him with wide eyes, shocked at such a reaction. “So, you'll need this ready for Saturday I take it?” he asked, turning around sharply to look at Kichirou's shocked reaction. “How did you know?” “Let's say a little FC told me,” Jun said, pointing with the wrench at a white FC snuggled into a bay, its engine hanging from a hoist, ready to go back into the car. “Is that... Ryosuke's?” Kichirou asked breathlessly. “Yes, it is.” “What is it doing here?” Kichirou wondered. “The same thing as yours, I'm sure. He wants the chassis stiffened, and a little touch of understeer added to keep the additional power under control,” Kitami said, patting the 13BT as it hung from the hoist. “What did he do to it?” “He did nothing,” Kitami said. “He paid a substantial fee for me to do something to it, though. However, if you're afraid he's going to beat you Saturday, I could undo a few things if you'd like,” he chuckled. Kichirou looked at the engine, amazed at the attention to detail. “Just get the body back into shape. I'll provide an engine, cooked up to my own specs. Can you have it ready by Thursday?” Kitami glanced at the calendar, deciphering the unique marks he had made that told of numerous clients begging for his touch upon their machines. He cocked his eyebrow, tapped his chin, and then nodded. “Yes, Thursday. The fee will go up a bit though, my dear friend Kichirou. You're asking much of me, and my wallet. It's going to be difficult, my friend. He's cooked up the Mt. Akagi special here, a real monster. That's where you're racing next, isn't it? Mt. Akagi? Be prepared.” Kichirou handed over the keys to the FC and the Impreza as well, then walked outside to the waiting Sora, sitting there in a hastily-borrowed car. “Come on Takumi, time for some rest. It's going to be an interesting week.” |
| Posted by: Meteor May 17 2008, 07:08 PM |
| Ouch! Poor Kichirou. Good to know he's not dead yet. Great writing as usual you two. The quality of the battle sequences have improved as well. I wonder how fast the two FC's are going to get now. With each and every chapter, I. Simply. Need. MOAR! Yeah Takumi. Take a rest. You've been pushing yourself too hard. |
| Posted by: 207 May 17 2008, 08:46 PM |
| great update. damn takumi can drive like a devil when he wants to. i hope that crash puts him bacl on track for a racing career. i look forward to the race on akagi. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 May 17 2008, 10:15 PM |
| It would of been interesting to see Takumi won the race. I wonder how Bunta feel once he hear the outcome of Takumi and Kichirou's race. |
| Posted by: Ukos78 May 18 2008, 02:20 AM |
| and now i want to hear what happens with nakazato and sayuki, new story hook right there |
| Posted by: Koykis May 18 2008, 05:20 AM |
| W-O-W I couldn't ever imagine takumi so angry, and kichirou is so calm after knowing takumi ruined his car on purpose My face is almost in the monitor I want to read more! |
| Posted by: xmark May 18 2008, 06:19 PM |
| Awesome! What will Takumi may become in the future... A God or a Devilish Monster racer... Cant wait for the Mt Akagi Special Battle |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 19 2008, 12:27 AM | ||
I favour Ryousuke too, no idea why. Awesome chapter, I think Kichirou feels some deja vu. But damn, Takumi needs to cool it, although I think the crash has ended his anger streak. With so many wrecked cars, theres only one thing to say: Kitami Jun to the rescue! M. O. A. R. Please. |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat May 19 2008, 07:00 AM |
| awesome update keep up the great work |
| Posted by: Drew May 21 2008, 07:19 PM |
| I'm just waiting for Akio Asakura to come in out of nowhere. Awesome chapter, and I second VTiRoj's MOAR post. |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 23 2008, 06:40 PM |
| Well, until RC7 writes the Akagi battle, this is what we've got. Hope you like it. I'm a bit sleepy, so if I typed something wrong, that might be why. *************** Ryosuke hung his head, tapping his forehead slowly as he tried to think. “Fujiwara's speed can't be accounted for by any known technique. I know the limitations of the FD, and he was able to exceed them by a factor of ten or more. Could it be that he's just that insane? Does he have some kind of magic touch when it comes to a car?” Keisuke knocked on the door and stepped inside. “Yo, aniki. What's going on?” “I'm trying to...” Ryosuke began, but he stopped. “So, did you enjoy your ride?” he asked. Keisuke turned pale at the memory, but a smile broke out on his face. “Yeah, I did. Never seen him drive like that before, to be honest with you. It makes me want to give up on driving for a while,” Keisuke confessed, running his hand through his hair and chuckling. “I'd try and analyze it, but I just don't feel like it. I don't think computers could give me the answer I'm looking for. Feel like driving me to pick up my car?” Ryosuke asked. “Sure. The FD is sitting in the driveway, ready to go.” “Good, just let me make a call first.” As Keisuke tramped down the stairs and outside to his car, Ryosuke picked up his cell phone, took a deep breath, and dialed. * “Hello, who is this?” Kichirou asked, unable to recognize the number. His brain was too tired from the events of the night and the crash. It was all he could do to remain awake in the passenger seat of the borrowed Altezza. “This is Takahashi Ryosuke. I wanted to call about our next race on Saturday.” “Next race? I'm not interested anymore,” Kichirou said, glancing in the rearview mirror at the sleeping form in the back seat. “What do you mean you're not interested?! You've hounded me and hounded me ever since you came to Akina. You can't just quit on me,” Ryosuke shouted, turning red in the face. “I happen to know where your car is sitting, Takahashi. Right next to mine. I had a look at what you're cooking under the hood, and I'm impressed. Out of curiosity, Ryosuke, did you pay for every win in your racing career?” Kichirou asked. “What?!” Ryosuke stammered, almost dropping the phone. “I said, have you paid for every win in your racing career? I looked up your old circuit racing results, and you weren't nearly as good as I thought. I looked into your street racing career. Same thing. You've won a lot, Ryosuke, but I get the feeling you've been using that Takahashi money to bribe your opponents to lose and buying their silence. Why should I bother with all the trouble trying to get you to race for me when I have a natural genius at my beck and call?” “Because... I.... uh....” Ryosuke stuttered, before his grip tightened on the phone until it cracked and fell silent. “Bribed?!” * Kichirou shut his phone and chuckled. Ryosuke would be too angry to think now, and Saturday's race would be what it needed to be. He looked back at Fujiwara again, who was sleeping quite soundly now, emitting the occasional snore. With a wry smile, Kichirou shrugged his shoulders. The FC was trashed and the engine obliterated, but Kitami would be able to put it back together better than before. At least the crash had wiped Fujiwara's emotional slate clean. “What are you thinking?” Sora asked, noticing her husband's quiet chuckle. “I've never seen someone use a Subaru to roundhouse kick an FC into the woods before. What a stiff neck I've got now, that little twerp. That reminds me, I need to call Kitami and remind him about the suspension bushings.” He flipped open the phone, scrolled through his list of contacts, and dialed. Surprisingly, a busy signal greeted him. “Hmm, that's odd,” Kichirou said, trying once more before shutting the phone and putting it away. “What's that, dear?” Sora asked a little later, obviously more focused on driving than listening. “Kitami's line is busy. Maybe he just took the phone off the hook so he can get some work done. I'll remind him tomorrow morning.” * “You want me to do what?” Kitami asked, almost dropping the phone. “Freshen up the motor, change the fluids, get it ready to be driven.” “But it's an MF-12! There were only nine made!” “Kitami...” the voice threatened. “Fine,” he sighed, realizing the utter defeat he had suffered. There was no way to deny the man, even if he was asking for something incredibly insane. “You know, out of all the cars I've built, including the Z.... this is the only one that scares me,” Jun said, walking down a long dark hallway of his shop, approaching the large shipping container that dominated a room that was always locked. Brushing away the cobwebs, Kitami pulled a key from the chain around his neck, fitted it into the massive padlocks, and cast open the door. With the dull gleam of a single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling Kitami could see the shine reflected from the gorgeous flowing fenders. Its long beautiful hood was draped over what had originally been a 2.3 liter inline six, now bored and stroked, refined and honed over the years until it could be likened to a dedicated weapon rather than a simple motor. The gleaming chrome trim on the front bumper and the streamlined mirrors sparkled in the weak light, producing a hypnotic effect that made Kitami smile. Even the white paint was still immaculate, covered in cobwebs though it might be. “You know, I've always liked these cars. Aluminum body, inline six, five speed manual, disc brakes on all four corners... it's a nice raw car, responsive. Of course everything you've had me do over the years has made it better. I'm not joking, you know, when I say that it scares me,” Kitami said. “You always say that, you think it lets you charge the customer more,” came the sarcastic reply. “I'm serious this time, and you know it. I love my Z, and playing with rotary engines will always be a fascinating hobby for me, but this car...this car gives me the creeps. It's too powerful. It's overwhelming, and you know it.” “Just get it ready for me. Freshen it up, get it good and ready. I'll be sending the key by as soon as you're done.” “You will?” Kitami asked, more excited than he felt he had a right to be. It had been thirty years since he had heard the engine run for more than a few seconds, and the sound had made his body shake. “Yes, I will.” The phone call ended, leaving Kitami standing in the darkest corner of his warehouse under a single dim light bulb, staring at the monster he had helped to create so long ago, the machine he had strove to replicate with the Devil Z. “I can't wait.” * Bunta hung the phone up and leaned back in bed, coughing to himself. Shima shook his head, then eased the older man back and tucked his blankets back in. “Pneumonectomy is not something you should treat lightly,” Tatsuya said, leafing through Fujiwara's folder before readjusting the chest bandages. “We've got two lungs, what's one of them gone?” Bunta said, trying to chuckle. “Fujiwara, I must remind you that your chances of survival are minimal. Are your affairs in order?” Tatsuya asked, unhappy to have to speak of such things. “Yes,” he said finally, “yes, they're being put in order. That phone call will take care of the future. So you think it's not looking good, hmm?” Bunta asked, feeling a slight tingle of fear. What if he died before Takumi's next race? “No, it's not. Your body was too weak going into surgery, and now it's having difficulty recuperating from the physical shock. With only one lung you're having trouble acquiring enough oxygen for your body to function, which is why we're going to start you on oxygen breathing for two hours every day. It'll give you a little time, but not much. Do you need anything? A lawyer? A religious figure?” “No, no. How long do I have?” “A week, maybe two,” Tatsuya said, watching as the news hit the man hard. “In that case, if you could call my son for me in the morning, and have him visit me. I have something to give him. And Kichirou.” “Of course, Fujiwara-san. Now please, rest.” “Takumi...” Bunta sighed as he shut his eyes to sleep, “I hope you're ready.” |
| Posted by: Meteor May 23 2008, 07:05 PM |
| Takumi's not going to be taking the news of his father very well And I'm quite interested in this MF12. If the Devil Z itself is a monstrously fast machine, then how fast is this? I humbly request MOAR from you. EDIT: Goddamnit. Can't believe I forgot to mention how awesome Kichirou's mind games are. Even Takahashi Ryousuke himself is falling for them! |
| Posted by: 94hondaaccord May 23 2008, 07:52 PM |
| Yet another wonderful chapter!! U got me checking everyday to see if there is a new 1 up. Great job thx |
| Posted by: .M. May 23 2008, 10:04 PM |
| THIS IS MADNESS! but really really great chapt as usual, i wonder just HOW fast this MF12 is? |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 24 2008, 03:12 AM |
| If the MF12 is what I think it is, then I am now shaking in excitement to read how it performs. Takumi won't take the news of Bunta well at all, but I have a feeling Bunta will say something that will make Takumi into a better person than before. Kichirou's mind games are awesome. I would like to order some MOAR with extra MOAR sprinkled on top. |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 24 2008, 08:01 AM |
| and the mind games continue.... awesome update. cant wait to see the gt in action... sucks about bunta tho... but it does make the story interesting |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 24 2008, 04:41 PM |
| Still waiting for an update, so here's some more filler. *************** Takumi awoke in the morning to see a note pinned over his bed, written in Sora's careful hand. Plucking it up, he rubbed his sleep-bleared eyes and willed the characters on the paper into focus, his stomach turning sour as he read the note. He hurriedly got cleaned up and dressed, then ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a small roll and snatching up the keys to the AE86. He was soon out in the driveway, warming up the engine and impatiently drumming on the steering wheel with his fingertips as he waited for the temperature gauge to move. Finally the needle lifted off and began to climb toward its optimal range, and Takumi quickly put the car into gear and pulled out into the street. It was a long drive to the hospital where his father was, but it was barely long enough for him to compose his mind and he arrived in a state of agitation. It couldn't be good. It took him a long two minutes before he was ready to enter the room, and when he did Takumi thought for just a moment he had entered the wrong one. Bunta was lying back with a mask over his face, a nurse sitting with him and reading from a magazine as he breathed slowly and carefully. When his eyes caught sight of Takumi standing in the doorway as pale as a ghost, he waved his hand at the nurse who, after a disapproving glance at her wrist watch, shut off the bottle, removed the mask, and disappeared. “Takumi, come in,” Bunta croaked, reaching forward for a glass of water. Hesitantly he entered, standing uncertainly at the foot of the bed. “Don't be afraid, you can't catch it,” Bunta chuckled, the effort taking it out of him. “Are you okay?” Takumi asked finally. “No, I'm not. I'm not going to be around very much longer, Takumi. A week or two at the most, the doctor tells me. That's why I wanted to speak with you. There's a lot I have to say, but I don't think now is the time to say it. Kichirou has all of my papers, and he'll handle things after I'm gone. I'd like it if you would stay with them, at least for a little while. He'll take care of you. Nineteen is early to be on your own.” “Don't talk like that,” Takumi said, wiping a tear away before it could roll down his cheek and betray him. “Sorry, but it has to be like this. I don't have the time to sugarcoat things, and I think you're old enough to deserve the truth. They removed one of my lungs to try and slow this down, but it didn't work. I wouldn't pick up smoking if I were you,” Bunta chuckled, a weak wheezing rasp. “I won't.” “Good. Now, I don't have much, but what I have goes to you, with a little bit going to Kichirou to help take care of you if you decide to stay with him. The tofu shop... well, you can sell it if you want, or run it. I don't care, do whatever you think is best. And as for your racing,” Bunta said, looking at Takumi carefully. “What about it?” Takumi asked. “Do you think you want to race full time?” “Yeah, I think I'd like to, if I could find some kind of racing where I could use all my skills,” Takumi said slowly, almost afraid to voice his desires. “Good,” Bunta said, “good.” “Why?” “Because,” he said, leaning forward painfully, “I have something for you.” He pulled a thin silver chain from around his neck and held it out in his hand, a coil of shining metal and a single key, and placed it around Takumi's neck. Lying back with a wheeze, he remained quiet, breathing slowly and painfully. “What is it?” Takumi finally asked, holding the key in both hands and looking at it in awe. “That is the key to your future. There are two paths that you can take. The first path is to sell it. In the current condition that it is in, you could easily attain thirty or forty million yen. That would set you up well. You could get a good education and work for a powerful company and make a name for yourself outside of street racing. Now if that doesn't suit you,” Bunta said, “there is the other path.” “What's the other path?” Takumi asked excitedly, stepping closer to the bed. “The other path is to take this key and use it.” “Use it on what?” Takumi asked. Bunta smiled and began to chuckle, a sound that soon grew into a powerful booming laugh that rattled the windows. He collapsed into a coughing fit, fell silent for a few moments, and then forced himself to resume speaking. “This key operates a vehicle that has been kept under lock and key since before you were born. A white coupe, front engine and rear drive. Four wheel disc brakes. It has a few things you aren't used to though,” Bunta said with another chuckle. “Like what? I've handled Keisuke's FD, and I've driven your Impreza. What else could there be?” Takumi asked. “When you began driving the AE86, I modified it slowly, piece by piece, right before your technique would need that specific modification. The wheels, the cage, the engine, the carbon fiber roof. I added a piece at a time every time you were about to need it. This is my AE86, Takumi. This is the car I used to learn how to drive, and how to race, and how to win. This is the car I used to dominate all of Japan until I couldn't drive on a public road without being pulled over. Where your hachi-roku has limitations because of its chassis and the damage it has seen, my car has none. They've been built or modified out over the decades.” “Is that possible?” Takumi asked. “Anything is possible, with money.” “What is this car?” “It's a Toyota 2000GT MF12. There were only nine made, and I have one. It's resting with Kitami Jun right now, who's preparing it for you. He's been the only one to work on it after it left the factory. It is the fastest privately-owned car in Japan, the last time I checked,” Bunta said proudly, before closing his eyes to rest. Takumi held the key in his hand, looking at it in complete awe. The fastest car in Japan? Was that even possible? A car was just a car, bits of metal and rubber and glass. “He's in the process of bringing it back to operational status. After work today, go and visit him. Bring the key. He knows you're coming. Get the car and bring it back here tomorrow. You and I will go for a drive, and I'll show you how to use it. After that, I can rest,” Bunta said, slowly opening his eyes again. It was madness to leave the hospital in his condition, especially to be flung about in a car, but if he was going to die, it would be better to die happy and amidst his family rather than in a cold and empty room in an impersonal building. The two Fujiwaras remained talking for some time as Bunta became nostalgic and retold his racing career. Tatsuya waited outside the door for a while, intent on bringing back the oxygen mask, but as he heard the topic of conversation he stopped and leaned against the wall, listening to Fujiwara Bunta's racing history. * Takumi stood outside the dark warehouse, shivering in the cool night air, the Toyota's key warm in his hand. Finally, hesitantly, he knocked on the door and walked in. There, resting in the middle of the warehouse, was a sheet-covered car. Impossibly low-slung, its gorgeous curving fenders were obvious even underneath the white cloth. Footsteps approached from the darkness, until Kitami Jun was standing next to him, polishing a wrench clean. They stood in silence until Jun had carefully set the wrench on a table. “So, young Fujiwara, how do you come to be at my warehouse at midnight?” “I was told to come. I have the key,” Takumi said, holding it out. Without another word, Kitami grabbed the sheet and slowly pulled it off. The lines and curves of the car were so perfect and the paint so pure white that it was impossible to tell where the sheet ended and the car began. Finally the machine was revealed, resting on its wide low-profile tires, its glass crystal clear and chrome shining almost painfully bright in the modest light of the warehouse. “It's... it's incredible,” Takumi said, afraid to touch it. Kitami chuckled. “Yes, more than you know.” “How much power does it make?” Takumi asked. “No one knows. The last time we tried to dyno her, she broke the straps and leaped off the dyno. The car was halfway down the street before we could stop her. Be careful driving, Fujiwara. There isn't another car like this in the world.” The two circled around it again and again, Takumi even getting down on the floor to look up at the gleaming suspension pieces. “Is that a carbon fiber driveshaft?” he asked, breathless. “Among other things. Fujiwara, do me a favor,” Kitami asked. “What?” “Start the engine.” Sliding into the heavily-bolstered driver's seat, Takumi put the key in the ignition, pushed the clutch to the floor, shifted into neutral, and turned the key. The engine, a heavily-modified inline six cylinder, turned over three times, warming up before it caught with a triple bark and a deep sucking sound from its carburetors. The high compression motor rasped and snarled like a vicious animal until it had warmed up, then it began to wail. “Rev it, please,” Kitami asked. Takumi, hypnotized, did as he was told. The 2000GT screamed and bayed over and over, its engine racing up through the revs as if there wasn't a flywheel, the sound producing a tingling chill that shot up Takumi's spine and buzzed through his hands as he gripped the steering wheel. “Go ahead,” Kitami said, gesturing toward the now-open garage door. The bone-white 2000GT rolled forward on its incredibly wide tires, the soft compound picking up bits of gravel and trash from the shop floor and launching them against the fender liners in a continual spray. Takumi blipped the throttle once more as he rolled out of the shop, then engaged the clutch and rolled into the throttle. The white coupe howled in fury and shot down the street, instantly pegging the tachometer deep into the red. Takumi shifted up quickly and before he could realize it the engine was at the redline again, screaming for release. Shocked, he realized he had used less than a quarter of the throttle, and yet the car had left two thick black stripes from the front of Kitami's shop to where he now sat, interrupted only by a short break where he had shifted. “I like this car.” |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 24 2008, 05:18 PM |
| nice. with bunta, the older the car, the better eh? i wonder if takumi will also be getting pulled over all the time... nah he'll just leave them in the dust, hah! this keeps getting better and better, but i wonder how this will play an important role with the 'battle of the masterminds'. i guess ill have to wait for rc7 to find out... btw, this choice of car reminds of another great fic (even in its unfinished state)... |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 24 2008, 05:30 PM |
| I know I'm not the first, nor the last, to think of the perfect Toyota for Bunta to drive. When the stodgiest, most boring car company forms an alliance with Yamaha to create a sports car of such stunning proportions and abilities, everyone sits up and takes notice. Plus it makes it amusing, because Bunta's street racing career was with what was widely known as a high performance car, whereas Takumi is stuck in an economy car. Combining the two..... How awesome does this car have to be if it inspired the Devil Z of Kitami Jun, hmm? Oh, and just think of this as nothing more than a sideplot. This is just filler that fits with the rest of the universe these guys are in. We're all on hold until RC7's Akagi battle makes its debut in my inbox. |
| Posted by: 207 May 24 2008, 06:03 PM | ||
damn thats a tantalizing filler chapter
i just had to read that sentence 2-3 times. i sure hope it doesnt minic the devil z's previous owners for takumi. i loved kitami's response to the horsepower of the car. |
| Posted by: .M. May 24 2008, 06:40 PM |
| oh my gosh, that has to be over 1000 horses to get that crazy! THX = FTMFW and RC7 i hope u dont get to swamped... |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 24 2008, 08:47 PM | ||
yeah, i know, that car really does fit, huh? once again, awesome work, keep it up. this story has got on the edge of my seat, as always... |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 25 2008, 02:23 AM |
| Now I see why it scares Kitami. Takumi can't take that down Akina can he? He'll end up drawing one huge || all the way down, whilst filling the air with tyre smoke. I'm wondering if we'll see 2000GT vs Devil Z, but Akio hasn't really been mentioned enough to suddenly be put into that situation right? Hm... Blackbird? In any case, I submit my request for MOAR. |
| Posted by: jpn6438 May 25 2008, 03:00 AM |
| This is getting evilly great!!! |
| Posted by: Meteor May 25 2008, 03:21 AM | ||
| Poor Bunta. And poor Takumi too Be strong Takumi. Take those keys and make your father proud! And that 2000GT is simply freaking awesome! But the question is: Can Takumi control it? That car sounds like it's capable of winning at any powerskid competition. And with torque like that, It should be pretty scary to drive on either twisty mountain passes or the expressways.
Same here. I kindly request for MOAR. |
| Posted by: DrIfTeRX305 May 25 2008, 06:50 AM |
| Awesome updates. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the 2000GT the same car Bunta drives in Sanae's Dreaming of Akina? |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 25 2008, 08:16 AM |
| ^yes that is the story i was referring to... but that has nothing to do with THX's choice as he pointed out. that car is just that awesome to show up in so many fics, right? its probably alright if he bangs it up a little bit since kitami is around, but it would be a shame if he wrecked... |
| Posted by: DK_2 May 25 2008, 09:02 AM |
| omg. that car seems well connected to Dreaming of Akina. this fic is so good. that made it better. OMG. T_T i wonder how Bunta will be the rest of the fic? |
| Posted by: Drew May 25 2008, 01:23 PM |
| Oh shi- You're flipping mad, THX! 1000+ HP 2000GT?! It's sheer insanity! |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 25 2008, 06:44 PM |
| Still waiting on RC7, so here's the last of my filler. Hopefully. ****************** Bunta looked at the hospital rapidly receding in the rearview mirror and sighed, leaning back into the highly-bolstered passenger seat of his fabled 2000GT MF12. The white Toyota was effortlessly devouring the kilometers, making a straight line for Mt. Akina with a full tank of gas and a few hours before anyone else would be driving on the mountain. Takumi felt as if he were in a trance. His father had been released from the hospital against medical advice, carefully packed into the coupe, and now they were on their way to a physically exhausting drive on the mountain they both knew and loved. Takumi was silent, although little could be spoken over the roar of the mighty engine under the long white hood. Effortlessly they climbed up Mt. Akina, Takumi surprised at how easily the Toyota handled each curve, even the particularly difficult hairpin turns. Finally they were resting at the peak, the engine idling and the car's body vibrating with power. Bunta unfastened his harness, opened his door, and stepped out. “I'm going to drive down this mountain for you, to show you the true potential of this car and the fastest line it can take. I'll drive it back up again, to show you its hillclimb abilities. Then it will be your turn. Descend the mountain using everything I've shown you, and you earn the right to claim this machine as your own.” Bunta groaned as he sat in the driver's seat and fastened his harness tight, snugging the belts down over and over until they dug into his body and held him completely immobile. Takumi followed suit, his mind completely empty as he prepared to witness an incredible feat of driving. “Ready?” Bunta asked. Takumi nodded in response. Bunta shifted into first, revved the engine, popped the clutch, and they were off. * “What do you mean he checked out of the hospital?!” Kichirou cried into the phone, astonished, furious, and scared beyond all comprehension. Tatsuya stuttered for a moment before replying. “He checked out this evening with his son. He understands that without hospital care he has even less time to live. My apologies for causing you this consternation, but I felt it necessary to tell you, even though I was requested not to.” Kichirou clenched the phone tight until his knuckles turned white and the plastic of the phone began to squeal and crackle under the force of his grip. “Thank you for telling me,” he managed, then hung up the phone, whirled around, snatched up the keys to the Altezza and ran for the door. “Where are you going?” Sora asked as he rushed out. “Bunta checked out of the hospital with Takumi's help. There's only one place they'll be, and.... why is the Trueno here?” he asked, coming to a complete stop in the alley. Sora followed him outside just as Natsuki appeared. “Takumi had me drop him off at a warehouse,” Natsuki said. “That was last night though. Did he ever come home to do the delivery?” “No,” Sora replied, beginning to understand. “Thank you again, though, for letting us borrow your car,” she added. “My pleasure,” Natsuki replied. “I like walking anyway. I was going to help you with the delivery, but if Takumi isn't here to do it, should I go home?” “No, come with us,” Sora said, getting into the Altezza. Kichirou whirled around, pulling at his hair in frustration. “I have to get there fast, woman! I can't drive like I need to with you in the car!” “You won't make it there without someone to calm you down. Get in the passenger seat, Natsuki can drive us. Why are you so worried, anyway?” Sora asked. “With the Impreza in the shop getting repainted, and the AE86 here, that means there's only one car that they could be using. What's the one car that would get Bunta out of the hospital and off his death bed to drive?” Kichirou asked. Sora's eyes went wide as she understood, and without saying a word she bumped Natsuki out of the way and settled into the driver's seat. “Get in and hold on,” she commanded. “We don't have long.” * Takumi picked himself up off the pavement even as his stomach kept heaving. He had vomited three times so far, and Bunta had vomited once. The forces the car was capable of exerting.... it was incredible. The downhill had scared him so badly he had almost passed out, but by some miracle he had kept his eyes open, burning into his memory the line and his father, the actions taken and the car's responses. On the uphill he had been overcome again, unable to process the raw data flowing into his body. It threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought back as best he could, trying to make sense of what he had witnessed. “Your turn,” Bunta said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The exertion of driving the car downhill and back up again at full speed had taken it out of him. He was giving his life up to show his son the perfect line to take, the incredible power and staggering potential of the Toyota. He was transferring his racing knowledge to his son, ensuring his future even as it drew his own life to a close. Takumi gripped the steering wheel nervously, fear coursing through him. The car scared him, it intimidated him, and he burned with desire to be able to harness its incredible power. “You can do this,” Bunta said quietly. “You've been trained to do this.” With the support of his father Takumi felt his fears and anxiety melt away, leaving only the racer. His blood cooled, his mind cleared, and his vision sharpened. It was going to be an intense ride, a wild ride, but it was going to define his future and shape him into the man he had to become. He revved the engine once, twice, three times.... Mt. Akina echoed with the staggering roar of the inline six and the tortured scream of the Toyota's tires. * “It's too late,” Kichirou sighed, slumping back into his seat. The sound had rattled the Altezza's windows as they approached the foot of the mountain. “What should I do?” Sora asked, letting her foot off the throttle. “Park up here, by the skating rink. The finish line is right there. We don't want to be in their way when they come down. I hope Takumi isn't enough of an idiot to try and drive it himself. It'll kill him.” * “I don't know if I can do this,” Takumi said, his voice shaking. “More throttle.” The white 2000GT shrieked through the corner, clipping the apex perfectly, its monster tires gripping the road hard as its suspension worked in perfect harmony to keep the car balanced and on its path. The chassis had been tweaked and modified and even completely replaced so many times over the years that it had reached a point of perfection for touge racing. Incredible suspension travel, perfectly balanced spring and damper rates, and fine-tuned swaybars all worked in unison exactly as they were designed to, helping the massive soft tires to transmit their incredible grip properly. The steering rack, refined over and over until it had the same level of precision as a laser, poured endless amounts of data into Takumi's sensitive hands. It felt like he was learning Akina anew, reading the road for the first time, truly understanding the surface he was driving on. * “What do you mean it'll kill him?” Natsuki asked from the back seat, her voice rising in panic. “For people like Bunta and Takumi, driving a car is an art. They lose themselves in the machine, becoming a part of the car. I used to throw change down on the road in front of Bunta when we were competing, and he'd tell me how much I'd dropped. He almost always guessed it right, even in the dark. He said he could feel it in the steering wheel because the suspension told him what the tires had run over. I never really believed it myself, but from him, it sounded real. Modern cars take that feeling away from you. They isolate you with ergonomics and comfort. They say that the new cars are more refined, but all that means is that they've layered on insulation between you and the road. It takes effort to strip that away, and then you have to deal with a car that spent most of its life hiding its deficiencies,” Kichirou said. “I don't understand,” Natsuki said apologetically. “It means that new cars aren't as perfect mechanically as they could be. Inaccuracies are allowed because it will be hidden by insulation, covered up by electronics. Cars built before, old cars, they never had that insulation, so they had to be refined mechanically if they wanted to be good. Light weight, responsive steering, excellent handling. That had to be done the hard way, the expensive way. The car that Bunta and Takumi are in was famous in its day, for a number of reasons. After spending thirty plus years in Bunta's clutches, being relentlessly tuned and retuned.... I can't even begin to describe its power.” “Why would it kill him?” Natsuki asked. “Because, with a car that perfect, it's possible to get lost in the machine.” “I don't understand!” * “Yes, good!” Bunta said, smiling broadly. His son was doing it. Faster and faster they traveled, pushing harder and harder, clipping the apexes perfectly until the inside tires ran up on the curb or bounced over the grass to tighten their line through the corners. “Go to full throttle,” Bunta instructed. “I'm afraid to,” Takumi replied. “Don't be.” “Kitami said it ripped itself off of a dyno once,” Takumi said in way of an explanation. “It did. Not because of how strong the engine is, but because of the final drive ratio. This car is built for one thing, Takumi. Instant response. The drum of the dyno couldn't spin up fast enough, so the car accelerated off and broke its straps. This car isn't fast because of sheer power, it's fast because it has almost telepathic response. You've noticed it in the first few corners, how quickly it responds. Stop talking to me and lose yourself in the machine. Become a part of the car. Shut up and drive!” Takumi gripped the steering wheel, gulped deep, and did as he was told. * “It's possible to make machines that have limits above those of the human that controls it. Normally it only happens with fighter jets or spacecraft or other extreme machines. Sometimes, like in our case, that machine is a car. The acceleration, deceleration, and g-forces will do a number on your body, but the worst-worn part is your mind. It overwhelms your brain until it can't handle it anymore and it shuts down. He could literally drive himself into a coma,” Kichirou said. Sora chuckled. “You're too dramatic.” * As the five hairpins approached Takumi felt his heart racing in time with the revolutions of the all-powerful engine under the long sleek hood, his eyes wide as his brain tried desperately to cope with the sensory overload threatening to overwhelm him and shut him down. The Toyota weight-shifted as it dove into the corner, its massive brakes hauling the lithe aluminum body down from incredible speed and tucking into the corner, the tires biting deep for grip as it whipped through, the engine rising in revs again as it screamed toward the next corner. Finally, the hairpins approached. Takumi focused everything he had remaining in his body into navigating the five hairpins as fast as he possibly could. The first gutter hook was navigated faster than the AE86 could ever manage. The second hairpin went by at a speed that would put the Impreza to shame. The third hairpin would have dwarfed Kichirou's FC, and the fourth hairpin went by so fast that only the Devil Z could have come close in touching it, and even then only through sheer brute power. It was the fifth hairpin when it suddenly crystallized. The barriers of Takumi's mind disappeared until he was no longer a human in a car, but rather he became part of the car, one with the Toyota. The wheels were his feet, the suspension his legs, the engine his heart, and his entire body thrummed with unimaginable power. Everything else died away, everything else ceased to exist as he navigated the fifth hairpin at his ultimate potential. The rest of Mt. Akina disappeared in a blur, until he found himself sitting at the finish line, the engine idling to cool down. Slowly, piece by piece, he regained his human body as his mind retracted once more into its normal boundaries. He slowly became aware of his father's proud smile, then the sound of his breathing coming to a stop. Dimly he saw Kichirou and Sora racing up to him, with Natsuki close behind. Bunta was pulled from the car but it was too late for him. He had given everything to show Takumi his true potential, and he had been rewarded with the sight of his son tapping into the 2000GT MF12's almost limitless power. “Takumi!” Natsuki screamed, throwing open his door and sobbing on his chest. “What.... what's wrong?” Takumi asked slowly, too dazed for anything more complex. “You're alive!” she cried, hugging him. “Why wouldn't I be?” Takumi asked. “Natsuki, your shirt is covered in blood!” he said suddenly, noticing the massive smears all down the front of her shirt. “That's your blood,” Natsuki said with a sniffle. “Your nose is bleeding. Here,” she said, ripping away a piece of her shirt and holding it over his nose. “I did it,” Takumi said, too stunned to say much else. “Did what?” “I went to full throttle.” |
| Posted by: .M. May 25 2008, 07:12 PM |
| noooo he died but that toyota is insane.... |
| Posted by: Drew May 25 2008, 07:16 PM |
| NOOOOOOOO! NOT BUNTA! (does a 21 gun salute for such a legend.) Please, don't call it filler; it's amazing for the storyline. |
| Posted by: xmark May 25 2008, 07:36 PM |
| Awesome update as expected... With the 2000GT, Takumi's career as a real racer is just begun... A new legendary driver and a successor of "God of Sight" will be born just like his father Bunta. This filler update will soon become a new fanfic... Great storyline and it keeps on evolving. How I wish your fanfics will be made to anime. As for Ryosuke and Kichirou battle... well... Don't Miss It! |
| Posted by: jpn6438 May 25 2008, 07:50 PM |
| We need a moment of silence for the God of Sight |
| Posted by: red comet 7 May 25 2008, 07:55 PM |
| I'M SOOOOO SORRY guys for the long wait, you have no idea how much has been going on here lately.... i will have the update for you guys soon. but right now...i need some rest.... |
| Posted by: xmark May 25 2008, 08:05 PM |
| Don't jump into conclusions yet... Did he really died? or just unconscious? We need to confirm it soon... no pls not now... Bunta noooo... |
| Posted by: The Stig May 25 2008, 10:24 PM |
| *sniffle* That was effin' sweet, that was extremely emotional in that last update. Seriously, that post made this thread. |
| Posted by: DK_2 May 25 2008, 10:28 PM |
| shit man. wtfh. |
| Posted by: Meteor May 26 2008, 01:19 AM |
| FUJIWARA-SAMA! NO! NOT YET! PLEASE DON'T DIE YET! ATLEAST LIVE FOR AN EXTRA DAY OR TWO! He must've had the best time of his life, seeing his son become the car as he threw it down and up Akina. Seeing his son follow in his footsteps all the way to this point. He must've been quite happy I would like some MOAR. |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 26 2008, 05:22 AM |
| If Bunta really is dead... then at least he died knowing Takumi, and the 2000GT will continue on becoming masters of Akina, and probably any mountain in Japan. It's better than dying in a hospital bed. That said... NOOOOOO BUNTA!!!!! At least live until the end of the 'fic!! I have to agree with xmark, we need to find an animator for your fics, thx. And I also have to agree with Meteor. VTiRoj wants MOAR. |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 26 2008, 05:50 AM |
| Just a little bit moar, since we're so slow at work. Why I have to be at work on Memorial Day just boggles the mind.... You know, it's kind of interesting how this is panning out. I didn't really mean to write this stuff, it was just supposed to be some filler, but it did take on a life of its own. Funny, one of the webcomics I read all the time (Megatokyo) just had a major character die as well. Fiction world is getting hit hard, huh? *********** "Takumi-kun," Natsuki said softly, pointing to where Kichirou and Sora were holding Bunta's lifeless body. Takumi's eyes widened and tears threatened to blind him as he realized what was happening. He fought desperately at the harness, tearing at it madly until he found the catch and promptly fell out of the car. He scrabbled over, half-walking and half-clawing his way around the Toyota in his desperation. "I'm sorry, Takumi," Sora was saying as she cradled Bunta's head in her lap. Kichirou had already risen and was some distance away, covering his face with his arm in a desperate attempt to hide his gut-wracking sobs. "No, it can't end like this," Takumi said softly, shaken to his very core. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Natsuki murmured, holding him closely. Fujiwara Bunta, the fastest driver in all of Japan, the most skilled man to sit behind the wheel of a car, had passed away in the passenger seat of a vehicle as unique and powerful as himself. The little drama played out under the feeble light of a single street light, with the headlights of the Altezza highlighting Takumi and his tear-stained cheeks as he stood there, looking at his father, unable to speak. He collapsed into Natsuki's arms and cried for a solid ten minutes. "What do we do now?" Sora asked, looking up at Kichirou as he stood over her. "I guess the funeral home, or the hospital. I don't know. Let me make a call to Tatsuya, okay?" he said, stepping out of the yellow pool of light and into the darkness. Takumi wiped his eyes, looked at his father with a half-smile, and got into the Toyota. "What are you doing, Takumi?" Natsuki asked, leaning into the car on the passenger side. "I'm doing what he would have wanted," he replied. "I'm going to go away for a while. Don't worry about me, Natsuki. I'll be back in a month." The Toyota barked to life, its muted roar a funeral dirge for Bunta. Sora and Kichirou looked up at the sound, but before either could react Natsuki stepped clear and the Toyota's rear tires began to spin. With the bellow of the almighty engine and the screaming of tires the Toyota shot off into the night. "Should we catch him?" Sora asked. Kichirou shook his head. "His father's spirit is in that car. What we do with the body doesn't concern him. Takumi will come back when he's ready." Kichirou looked down at his mentor and sighed. "Out in a blaze of glory. For someone that hid himself away in a tofu shop, you never were modest about your skills. I hope you're happy with what you've done to Takumi. He's going to be a real monster, no matter what he drives." Kichirou knelt down, glanced at his wife, and then put his hand on Bunta's shoulder. "Thank you for teaching me." |
| Posted by: Meteor May 26 2008, 06:08 AM | ||
Awesome end to the chapter my friend. Awesome end to the chapter |
| Posted by: VTiRoj May 26 2008, 06:16 AM |
| He's really really dead?! I wonder where Takumi is going and what he'll do... MOAR! |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix May 26 2008, 08:00 AM |
| tragic stuff... awesome run tho. takumi is unstoppable now. great update, good to see RC7 is back too. now that one sidestory, i mean the battle between ryosuke and kichirou will continue. |
| Posted by: DK_2 May 26 2008, 09:19 AM |
| WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! *sniff sniff* WAAAA... WTFH!? this sucks. made my morning. MOAR. |
| Posted by: .M. May 26 2008, 11:03 AM |
| .... more sadness and MOARRRR. also why ARE u working? thats weird for a holiday |
| Posted by: thx712517 May 26 2008, 01:31 PM |
| I was working because it was someone's brilliant idea to have the parts department open on a day when no one is ordering parts. I spent the greater part of my day on www.tvtropes.org and goofing off. That and eating sushi.... weird combination for a car dealership, right? Anyway, now we're all waiting with bated breath for RC7's update on the Kichirou/Ryosuke battle. Should be good. |
| Posted by: .M. May 26 2008, 05:13 PM |
| lol weird. also YAAY MOARRR |
| Posted by: xmark May 26 2008, 05:56 PM |
| What a drama, bitter sweet ending on the greatest driver of all Japan... Are you planning on putting some funeral side fics on this? Let say some of his friends will attend in the funeral like dori dori and other drivers... then months later the final showdown of Ryosuke and Kichirou... A moment for Bunta presentation maybe... Tribute or something??? |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat May 26 2008, 07:00 PM |
| Great Update, so sad for Bunta, but he did all he could for Takumi R.I.P keep up the good work. |
| Posted by: tiQlado May 27 2008, 12:03 AM |
| No way! No freaking way! You killed Bunta! I thought… *sniff sniff* Aw, hell. I think I need to watch myself some Initial D episodes before I get totally convinced this happened in canon. That was just… tops. It would likely eclipse the race now… |
| Posted by: Meteor May 27 2008, 08:16 AM | ||||
Well. . The way the latest strip went, I'm not too sure about the actual outcome. And besides:
I could be quite wrong though. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 May 27 2008, 05:39 PM |
| Well I finally got some stuff for yall, I'm just putting the finishing touches on it. Not to much longer |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Jun 1 2008, 10:46 AM |
| any updates? |
| Posted by: .M. Jun 1 2008, 10:47 AM |
| be patient dude, he will post when RC7 is ready. |
| Posted by: thx712517 Jun 1 2008, 04:59 PM |
| RC7 requested a transition piece before his own. So, here it is. ************** “I can't believe he didn't show up,” Sora said, still dabbing at her eyes. Kichirou shrugged his shoulders. “I'm not surprised. Like I told you, he has what he needs. He has his memories.” The two were sitting in the kitchen of the darkened Fujiwara Tofu Shop, slowly recovering from the funeral ceremony. It was emotional, and a number of Fujiwara's friends from his racing days had appeared to mourn his loss. Kichirou smiled softly when he remembered he had been torn between greeting the guests and asking for their autographs. After emptying his glass Kichirou stared out the window, looking at the AE86 and the Impreza, its paint fresh from Kitami's. Suddenly something in his mind clicked. “Sora, would you drop me off at Jun's? I forgot something,” he said, getting up quickly. “Is it time for the FC to make a return?” she asked, picking up the keys to the Subaru. “I think so. It doesn't feel right to race so soon after the funeral, but it's not right to let all his work go for nothing either. I'll race Ryosuke if he's up to it, and we'll finish it. We've got Akagi and Akina left, and then it's decided. With young Fujiwara out of the picture at the moment, I'll have to settle for Takahashi if he can prove himself,” Kichirou said, surprised he would ever mention Takahashi Ryosuke and settling in the same sentence. The two walked out and got into the Subaru, Sora easing her pregnant belly behind the wheel carefully. The engine started up with a menacing growl, and they were soon on their way. “Do you think you'll take over the tofu shop?” Sora asked. “I'm not sure. I guess as a backup in case something happens to the team. Maybe we should keep it for Takumi, let him decide what to do with it. I think it really is his. Say, what happened to your helper?” Kichirou asked. “Natsuki? She had to go back to school. Between you and me, I think Takumi's leaving was a large part of it. We might not see her again. Still, I'm thankful for the help she gave me. Is this the place?” Sora asked, stopping outside the big gray warehouse. Kichirou looked out the window at the building, feeling something rising up inside of him that made his chest feel warm and closed his throat. His FC lay just behind those doors, waiting for him, calling to him. He could submerge himself in battle and shake off the emotions he was drowning in. “Yes, this is it.” “Well, don't hurt yourself,” Sora said, leaning over and hugging him unexpectedly. “I lost Bunta, I need you more than ever.” Kichirou returned the hug and exited the Subarub, walking toward the door. As the sound of the boxer motor could be heard roaring back toward the tofu shop, Kichirou curled his fingers around the handle of the door, took a deep breath, and walked inside. |
| Posted by: .M. Jun 1 2008, 05:03 PM |
| the suspense is kiling meh! |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Jun 1 2008, 05:27 PM |
| Short, but sweet! What awaits Kichirou in the warehouse of Kitami Jun I wonder. Requesting MOAR, over. |
| Posted by: Meteor Jun 1 2008, 10:22 PM | ||
Request for MOAR seconded, over. |
| Posted by: tiQlado Jun 2 2008, 10:17 PM |
What?? Ryousuke didn't make an appearance at the funeral? Ungrateful brat...  |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Jun 3 2008, 06:23 AM |
| ^doode... i believe it is Takumi who didnt show up... it looks like the action will continue shortly... cant wait! |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Jun 3 2008, 11:11 AM |
| tonight the battle begins! there will be two updates today if THX gets on. half soon, and then the EPIC stuff tonight, in true INITIAL D fashion all battles take place at night, so tonight the battle begins. DON'T MISS IT |
| Posted by: thx712517 Jun 3 2008, 12:49 PM |
| I've got to bleed the brakes on my Miata (race coming up soon) but I'll be home by 7:30, and you can start looking for an update soon after that. I've read the first half of the update (the non-epic part) and it's freaking awesome, so I think everyone's going to enjoy tonight. As RC7 says... DON'T MISS IT! |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Jun 3 2008, 12:56 PM |
| The non-epic part is freaking awesome? This means the epic part will be even better! I never miss a chapter unless I am forced away from my PC for a long period of time. This is the first topic I usually check when I log in when I wake up. |
| Posted by: .M. Jun 3 2008, 01:43 PM | ||
I Second that post and i cant wait for MOAAR |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Jun 3 2008, 08:52 PM |
| well i'm not sure why THX didn't post...sorry about that. but yall can't have the latter part till he posts the first.... maybe tomorrow... |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Jun 3 2008, 08:59 PM |
| its all good bro, we understand that you guys have more pressing matters to tend to. dont worry about it. just do your thing... |
| Posted by: thx712517 Jun 4 2008, 01:13 AM |
| Sorry about that guys, I got home from work last night to the wonderful news that Comcast had cut the wrong line when they were fixing some storm damage, and I spent the entire night without Internet or cable TV. We'll try again this evening after class. Or now. ************ Kichirou eased inside the door quietly only to see Kitami sitting on the front bumper of his now gleaming and mint condition FC. The coupe sparkled as the late afternoon sunlight came in through the windows and reflected off the brilliant red paint. “You, my friend, have some explaining to do!” Kitami said with a chuckle. “For what?” Kichirou retorted. “For why the engine I tuned isn’t under the hood of this car!” Kitami replied. “Oh! Well, that engine was removed a long time ago. I love my FC, it’s the only car I want to drive. I refuse to waste money on anything different or less. The engine that you and I worked on is a real diamond, something truly special. To me it felt like a waste to put such a valiant piece of machinery through the trials of daily driving and normal racing when it wasn’t necessary. If I had left it in there, I would’ve been wasting the life of the motor for no reason. I’ve been saving it for the right competitor, hoping to come across someone good enough to warrant its revival. Now I’ve found two.” Kichirou walked around to the driver’s door as Kitami tossed him the keys over the roof. He eased into the seat and started it up. Kichirou smiled with pleasure. “Just like new.” Kitami leaned down and looked at Kichirou through the passenger side window. “So, is it time for the Perfect Rotary Engine to make its debut?” he asked. Kichirou stared down at the gauges for a moment, watching everything rise to perfect operating temperature. “Yes, I believe so…it’s been long enough, and with Bunta’s 2000GT rising from the grave, I believe it's time for my car to come back to me as well.” Kichirou handed Kitami a small golden key from around his neck, with the number 7 engraved in it. “You’ll find it locked away in the same storage garage that Bunta’s car was in. It'slocked in the steel container in the far corner of the garage, this key opens it. I would appreciate it if you could get it on the engine dyno and break it in again. I’ll be back to get it in two days.” Kichirou then turned his head to look at Kitami and spoke very slowly as if to warn him and be sure to get the message across very clearly. “Kitami…it’s not the same engine you remember. Where you spent a month tuning it, I’ve spent years perfecting it…take care of it, and don't let it hurt you.” With that Kichirou drove out of the garage, leaving Kitami clutching the key in his hands wondering what else could have possibly been done to his work, and what the protégé of Bunta Fujiwara’s vehicle was capable of. * The night of the Akagi battle finally arrived, and the galleries were completely filled. There were people lining every turn, crowded up against one another shoulder to shoulder, trying to cram as closely as possible to every guardrail within reach so they could get a better look at the action. At the peak's parking area the amount of cars present surpassed the amount of any other race. Many people were double-parked, and the crowd had formed a massive and thick u-shaped ring around the two combatants that sat in their respective FCs idling until the start. Ryousuke sat inside his FC with the windows rolled up muffling the roar of the crowd outside, the radio blaring his favorite song to calm him down. His grip around the steering wheel was white-knuckled just sitting there. “How could anyone have the audacity to say I bribed my races?!” he growled angrily. “I’ve poured my heart and soul into every race, and gave it my all to win every one of them! How dare he accuse me of such unspeakable treachery! Tonight Tsubasa, I’ll show you the true speed of Ryousuke Takahashi, The White Comet of Akagi!” A few meters over, Kichirou sat coolly in his own machine, fiddling with his adjustable boost controller. “Ok, down to 12psi should be enough of a decrease to allow for decent speed, it should keep my engine's power considerably lower than Ryousuke’s.” Kichirou finished setting the two boost settings and looked over to his right, only to see an old friend staring at him from the other side of the guardrail, smiling at him. Kichirou’s face lit up as he waved to his old friend Toshia Joushima, God Hand. God Hand returned the wave as he laughed at the still child-like mannerisms of his old friend. “Kichirou Tsubasa, it’s been a long time old friend,” he said to himself. “You really haven’t changed that much as a person, but as a driver you really have earned the title they’ve all given you. Well done, God Touch. The driver known for whenever he hits the road, he can display sheer mastery of so many styles of driving. On the touge, you can effortlessly combine the motorsports technique, drift, grip, one handed steer, and many others into a style of your own that always brings you to the goal faster than your opponents could ever dream. As though the car and your technique have been blessed and perfected with the Touch of God himself. Being able to merge so many diverse techniques into one style of driving is quite impressive, Tsubasa. It truly was an honor to race with you. I know you’ll be a wonder of help for Takahashi.” With that, God Hand opened up a bottle of water, wiped his forehead, and prepared to watch the race. Keisuke walked over to Ryousuke’s window and tapped on it. Ryousuke rolled down the window but was still red in the face with anger. “So brother, what’s the strategy for tonight?” Ryousuke froze in shock, his brain wanting to shut down from the utter shock. His veins became ice, and his gaze was now that of a brain-dead hospital patient, as he realized for the first time in his long racing career that his opponent had attacked him in a way he never would have thought possible. Tonight, on the most important race of his life, Ryousuke Takahashi had failed to remember to formulate a strategy against his opponent. “Aniki, are you ok?!” For the first time in his life at the starting line of Akagi, Ryousuke Takahashi was truly scared. * In his shop Kitami stood awestruck, unable to believe his ears or his eyes as the readings were being spit out onto the screen. “Unbelieveable!” The Perfect Rotary Engine spun harmoniously, effortlessly, perfectly. The sound was sheer music to Kitami’s ears as the power flowed smoothly with every rotation of the rotors and every combustion cycle it completed, the turbo spooling in sync with the engine's natural power curve, providing the optimal amount of boost at every RPM. “It’s just like Bunta’s!” Kitami yelled to himself over the roar of the engine. The rotary that sat on the dyno was designed for perfection; just as responsive as the motor in Bunta’s 2000GT, but lighter and more compact. In the FC it would provide perfect agility and power. It would be the ultimate weapon and definitely the only rival to the MF12. With this engine, Kichirou’s FC would be the only thing that would have a chance against the menacing MF12. “Amazing!” Kitami said. “It really is perfect, Kichirou.” 540hp at 11,500 rpms could clearly and unmistakably be seen on the readouts. Kitami read them over and over again as the engine revved with a beautiful sound, and he felt that even if he let the motor run forever that it would easily do just that, without any stress or strain. “Kichirou…I hope you know what you’re doing…” * Ryousuke slowly realized what had been done. Kichirou was trying to get him to drive without thinking. Now he had no choice. It was do or die, and he was not going to lose on Akagi. Not to an outsider, no matter how well he drove. With fire inside him, Ryousuke looked at his brother. “Keisuke, tonight the strategy is simply drive as fast as possible. I’m not holding back. Nothing’s going to stop me. Tonight, I’m the White Comet again. I’m going to give Akagi the greatest performance it’s ever seen.” Keisuke smiled, at his brother's determination. “Alright, you ready?” he asked. “Yes.” The two FC drivers revved their engines in unison as Keisuke walked in front of the two cars and raised his hands. “Drivers ready!” he called, making eye contact with both. The crowd was silent. Ryousuke's grip on the steering wheel was tight as he readied himself. Both transmissions were put in gear, the engines were revved, and night stood still. “GO!” |
| Posted by: Meteor Jun 4 2008, 01:37 AM |
| Ryousuke has finally realised his opponent's plan, but is it too late? Find out next time! DON'T MISS IT! |
| Posted by: VTiRoj Jun 4 2008, 02:09 AM |
| 540HP at 11,500RPM? Insanity. A perfect match for Kichirou's FC then. Lets see how Ryousuke does when he has no strategy. MOAR!! |
| Posted by: tiQlado Jun 4 2008, 05:44 AM | ||
Oh, I know that. I was just wondering that, knowing the fact that Ryousuke virtually hounded Bunta's progress at the hospital, I'm just curious as to how he got unsettled with his death. He totaled his FC to beat the man, after all...This chapter... I don't recognize Ryousuke anymore, for some reason. I get the impression that as the story progresses, he became the "antagonist", and not Kichirou. And what with the epic shakedown of the MF12 and Bunta's... passing ... well, I just get the feeling that this race became an afterthought after something major like that. I mean no offense, don't get me wrong. I'm still all for Ryousuke, so I hope this would go down as his most challenging race ever.Ganbatte yo, THX & RC7! |
| Posted by: Meteor Jun 4 2008, 06:49 AM |
| ^My theory is that Kichirou's little mind game on Ryousuke had kept him distracted. So Ryousuke, not checking up on the then-still-alive Bunta's condition, did not know about what happened recently. And I don't think Takumi wanted to inform him about Bunta passing away for obvious reasons. Same for Kichirou. Speaking of which -somewhere in an alternate universe, the same battle is about to begin- Kichirou: Ryousuke. Just wanted to let you know. . . Fujiwara-san. . . Ryousuke: (Fujiwara Bunta?) What is it? Kichirou: He's. . . He's. . Ryousuke: WHAT IS IT?! TELL ME?! Kichirou: He's. . . . . Dead. . . . Ryousuke: . . . . . . . Kichirou: Ryousuke: YOU LIAR! *punches Kichirou* How could you stoop so low!? You already accused me of bribing my wins so that I'd be distracted from the race! But now you try to make me lose the battle by saying that Fujiwara-san is dead?! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A MONSTER! |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Jun 4 2008, 06:56 AM |
| Awesome update, cant wait for the rest keep up the good work, i guess the ultimate showdown with Takumi will be coming up soon, wonder what he is off doing? |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Jun 4 2008, 08:17 AM |
| @TiQlado/Meteor: again, i dont see any indications that Ryosuke does NOT know of Buntas passing. i dont know where u guys got that idea... also, it looks like Kichirous plan worked, Ryosuke is now forced to revert to his White Comet form. i cant wait to see this battle go down.... another also, im definitely anxious to see the imminent battle between the Perfect Rotary Engine and the menacing MF12 take place as well. @THX:sucks when that stuff happens, huh? trapped with nothing to do... well, keep up the good work, both you and RC7 as well. |
| Posted by: tiQlado Jun 7 2008, 11:57 PM | ||
^ No, actually what I said was "... I'm just curious as to how he got unsettled with his death." Being the angst & drama monger that I am, I wished to see a bit of the human side of the characters, try to see how they find closure, and how they'd move on and get going with the race. Emotions are funny things... |
| Posted by: RickyDGreat Jun 9 2008, 12:10 PM |
| cant wait for the next up date, keep up the good work |
| Posted by: thx712517 Jun 9 2008, 12:53 PM |
| Just waiting on RC7, he was supposed to send me the second half a week ago. I PMed him and haven't gotten a response. I hope the guy's doing alright, he's got a lot going on in his life right now and I can tell he's stressed about it. I hope he's feeling good. I'm sure that the next update he sends me will be awesome. |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Jun 12 2008, 11:45 AM |
| sorry guys about the long wait, between the red comet, an amateur drifting league starting in my town and having to represent our town against some upper state drifters, and my girl friend leaving for a dance competition in disney world i've been tied up pretty good. expect an update in the next few days. i promise it will be worth it. |
| Posted by: Meteor Jun 12 2008, 08:09 PM |
| We'll be waiting patiently for it |
| Posted by: pnoytecknix Jun 12 2008, 08:22 PM |
| this is actually good for me.... i should be studying for my last final... shhh |
| Posted by: red comet 7 Jun 15 2008, 01:28 PM |
| this is a short piece, sorry for the wait... this is just to see if you guys are still interested... if so i'll give you the rest...again i apologize.. *** Ryousuke launched from the starting line, with tremendous force intoxicating the night air with smoke as he flew from the starting line sideways, spinning through first and second gear, and finally finding traction after barking third, while Kichirou followed suit a car length behind. “Perfect!” Kichirou thought. Ryousuke charged into the first corner heel and toe downshifting from fourth to third, and finally into second maintaining full grip of all the tires as he moved fluidly from the outside guard rail to the inside one, sending the ivy covering it scattering into oblivion behind him. Kichirou smiled as he watched the white FC’s mirror run parallel with the top of the guardrail that seemed close enough to sheer the molding from the FC’s door. “Good Ryousuke, but the battle has just begun.” Ryousuke was totally focused, as he floored the gas pedal from the apex and shifted into third. He quickly braked with his left foot upon a slow right to send the back a little outwards then as the slow right merged into a hard left, he shifted into second locking the differential then floored the gas to send the car into a drift millimeters away from the inside guardrail. Inside the White Comet, Ryousuke was now thoroughly enjoying this new driving style, now with no strategy to plague his mind, he could focus 100 percent on his car’s movements, something he had long since forgotten how to do. Now he could feel the tires slip, and the engine revs course through his blood as he accelerated. He could feel the differential accepting each gear as shifted. Now he felt like he was one with his car rather than using it as a weapon. Now it was part of him. Kichirou was smiling proudly as he navigated the technical S-turn leaving one hand firmly on the wheel and the other on the shifter ready for quick shifts upon exit. “The boost setting being lowered is perfect to give Takahashi that sense of security. Soon his tires will be worn from his heavy acceleration and immense power. Once his tires have fatigued he will lose grip and speed, that’s when I’ll spring my trap…and also awaken the real racer inside you Takahashi!” Ryousuke was now a good 5 car lengths ahead as they charged into the next hairpin. Ryousuke again using the heel toe downshift using all his grip to try and pull even farther ahead of Kichirou. Behind him Kichirou simply left the gear in third and jabbed the brakes hard sending his FC into simple drift around the corner, while simultaneously reaching for a water bottle he kept in the passenger seat and taking sip. Upon exit he screwed the cap back on and floored the throttle. As he simply maintained the current pace, and let Ryousuke have his glory. “This is corner 24, Ryousuke and Kichirou just blasted through here, Ryousuke is beating his old record by two seconds but Kichirou is about 2 and half seconds behind, just behind Ryousuke’s old record. That’s the report I’m out!” The report was heard by all as it was blasted through the walkie-talkie in Keisuke’s hand. The Red Suns cheered wildly. Kenta still giddy with delight ran over to Keisuke, “See Keisuke-San, No one can touch The White Comet on his come ground, Ryousuke-San is going to do it!” Keisuke gazed down the straight away. The Younger Takahashi had progressed immensely in his time with project. D, and now he was verging on the level of his brother. “I’m not so sure about that Kenta…” “What are you talking about Keisuke?!? Ryousuke-San will win for sure, he’s leaving that guy in the dust, no one drives the FC better than Ryousuke- San!” “Don’t you get it Kenta?! At the start Aniki jumped out in front with ease. While Tsubasa trailed behind. But when you listened to both of their throttles they were both running wide open. That means theoretically Ryousuke is only winning because of the power, and while he’s in the lead, Kichirou is practically running at the same pace as Ryousuke’s old record but with less power. There’s something bigger in the works here….I only hope Ryousuke can hold him off…” “Don’t worry Keisuke-San! I’m sure the strategy Ryousuke-San is running will result in victory for sure!” Keisuke maintained his composure as he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds far off in the night, before finally returning to Kenta’s statement. “That’s the thing Kenta, he didn’t come up with one..” “What?!?!” |