"Count to four...breathe in...breathe out"
Riku's father had taught him a mind clearing technique years ago; cancel out the noise and keep your thoughts on one straight line.
He barely used it, keeping his cool was part of his character--crumbling under pressure was rare for him; its what made him reliable. Eventually, stress itself had become a rumour; something he had heard of before but never experienced...
Not until he was behind the wheel again.
One driver down, one damaged car serving a 5 second penalty in the pits--everything that could go wrong was going wrong, and Riku didn't like it.
His grip tightened, the steering wheel's leather protesting in response as his breaths quickened. He could feel his heart beat faster every second he'd hear a car race past the pit lane--his eyes shifting from his dash's screen to his team; feet ready to slam on the accelerator at any moment.
The board was looking devastating.
Each tenth of a second, Riku's name would drop by three to four positions. By the time he was cleared to go, He'd lost ten positions--not good, not good at all.
The team was already at risk, one more loss and it was over.
Such was the price he had to pay for joining a failing team.
'The golden rookie' they hailed him...all eyes on him--the pressure was high, and all he could do was breathe through it all.
"And Honda rejoins the race, wheels replaced and one driver down--can the golden rookie put them back into the safe zone with six laps left?"
The commentator's words stung the team's morale, but fingers were crossed. The odds were against them, but he was against the odds and he had made it clear from the moment he stepped into the vehicle.
With a menacing roar, The dazzling NSX zoomed through the track; gunshot-like backfire echoing as he downshifted--diving dangerously into a bend, five cars already battling each other.
With ease, he snagged the apex before propelling forwards--his car's engine protesting.
The crowd immediately erupted into wild cheers, the commentators joining in with surprised reactions on all their faces.
"What a dive! To think he had the courage to make such a move after just exiting the pits" one commentator let out, eyes widened as he stared at the screen.
"That's what's surprising, his tyres are not warmed up enough to be making a move as risky as that; that was superb driving!" Another added, his composure calm yet the excitement within him nearly overcoming him.
Before long, the Nsx had managed to steal the spotlight; making the battle for first look like a mundane show. Two laps since losing his original position, Riku had managed to drag his car straight to 6th place--easily bringing him back to his original spot...and by the sounds his car was making; he wasn't going to be satisfied with a p6 finish.
For Honda to last one more season, a p4 finish from him was what he predicted to be an adequate finish. Two more positions and he'd be satisfied...and coincidentally, 5th place was flashing their brakes right in front of him.
"Shit..." Marcus exclaimed, his eyes glancing at his side mirrors--Riku's Honda being the image that met him back.
A frustrated sigh then escaped him, his body sinking deeper into his seat as he pushed his Murcielago past its usual limit. Having Riku behind him was the last thing he needed; especially on his best run yet.
This wasn't their first encounter--in fact, the only reason Marcus was so frustrated with Riku's appearance was exactly because of that. The golden rookie had a well known reputation; his overly aggressive driving, masterful cornering and unbelievable pressure.
Shaking him off was impossible.
It didn't matter whether or not your car statistically had faster pace on straights and turns...so long as the white Nsx was sniffing your bumper, the end result was either; you successfully block him from passing till the end or get passed.
Having no space to pass, Riku lightly bumped Marcus' rear, easily irritating him--the Nsx's headlights flashing rapidly, its figure swerving from left to right.
The pressure had just begun; at first, Marcus tried pushing his car more through each straight; but it proved to be a futile attempt. Riku was glued to him, the only reason he hadn't passed yet was because his car's braking wasn't as sharp as Marcus'; though, brakes being the only thing that was saving him wasn't exactly relieving.
"Ease off Marcus, you're pushing the car too hard." A voice called through his radio, its message clear yet heavily disappointing for Marcus.
This was effectively a two hit combo.
Not only was he about to concede a position to someone with less experience than him, but his famed overpowered vehicle was losing to an Nsx; Honda's poor performance throughout the season added to the injury.
His pride and image was about to get a devastating blow, but he had to let it slide--losing his car over a dog fight he couldn't win would damage his image more. Gritting his teeth, he slowly eased off the accelerator--his body freezing mid-way before a wide grin replaced his angered expression. Ignoring his team's orders, he slammed onto his accelerator, his car hunting down a fresh set of tail lights.
The driver being hunted quickly glanced at his mirrors once, his expression remaining calm when he identified his attacker. For a moment, Gunther showed a smile before taking another glance at his mirrors; the Nsx's flashing headlights piercing past as it swerved from side to side, looking for the best spot to pass.
"Damn it!" Gunther exclaimed, his grip on his wheel tightening, "Karl, plan b. Switch to plan B."
"Copy, plan b." Gunther's team responded, their screens shifting to show new information.
"What's this? It seems there's moves being made not far down the grid." One commentator interrupted his mates' chatter, the live footage quickly shifting to the three cars, "It seems Riku wasn't satisfied with a 6th place finish and is now apparently pressuring Marcus and Gunther for that forth place."
"He's been frustrated for long it seems, clearly not happy with Marcus denying him that fifth place." Another chimed in, a smile drawing on his face as he watched the battle, "He clearly has that pace and has had enough of watching from behind."
"He's proven us wrong multiple times; crawled his way through a devastating drop in positions, but can he perform once more for two more positions?"
The question was seemingly shared among everyone who watched the thrilling scene.
It was ambitious, truly ambitious.
If he could snag a forth place finish, he would not only save his team, but also set investors sights on them. A dazzling performance from an underdog team--they'd become the talk of the track. But ignoring the fact that for him to achieve this, he had to pass two highly experienced drivers racing for two of the strongest teams was peak ignorance.
Even he knew this; but he didn't care--never did.
Approaching the final turn, all three of them swerved to the left of the track, each of their cars nearly grazing the barrier as they prepared for a deep dive. Swiftly, both Marcus and Gunther stole a glance at their mirrors; Marcus's brows quickly furrowing in confusion as he noticed something beyond ordinary...
The Nsx he was defending against was no longer behind him--in fact, it wasn't beside him either.
Both him and Gunther were left in confused states as they watched the Nsx prepare for a dive whilst being wheel to wheel with Gunther's Audi R8.
The speed he was taking the bend with was abnormal--suicidal in fact; his own wheels squealed protests as they tried their best to stop the car. The driver though; unfazed--his confidence in this move was unshakable. He'd done it countless times, he knew exactly how it would end...and so did the commentators.
One of them had already pushed his seat back, his body leaning closer to the screen with an expression that was filled with both joy and anticipation.
"THROUGH HE GOES!" One of them exclaimed, his eyes glued to the Nsx as it cleared half of the turn, "UNFATHOMABLE, TRULY SUPERB!"
His excited cheers echoed through the track, the audience joining in enthusiastically--each of them confused, overjoyed. Some were angered, their roars were against him; he heard them all. For a brief moment, his mind opened up to the noise around him; his expression switching to a wide smile as he wiped sweat off of his eyelids. Their confusion was beyond him, he was here to drive--and unique moves like this was why they loved him.
Marcus's confusion, however, wasn't...and it made itself clear.
He'd lost his focus for not more than half a second.
By the time his mind had brought itself back, his car had already rammed into Gunther's R8.
The collision was heavy, his car easily cleared the turn before drifting right into Riku's Nsx.
His mind had opened for only a moment, to hear the cheers of those around him and the roar of his engine; but for some reason, the sound of people screaming and screeching tyres were what he ended up hearing right after.
Having no control over his car, all he could do was watch as the world around him swirled and twisted; his car leaping off the ground before bouncing off the railing.
The screams grew louder, nearly as loud as his car crushing from one point to the other.
His mind cleared again, instinctively.
Almost as if to keep him from hearing the chaos that surrounded him.
The silence that surrounded him was one that he couldn't forget.
Rolling at 80+ kilometers per hour, seeing nothing but the world around you get reduced to blurs and vivid images.
It was surreal; loud, yet silent.
For a moment, he thought he was gone; the only thing saving him from death was his roll cage--how much trust was he going to place into that though?
With a final roll, Riku's Nsx collided with a light pole, twisting its body to have it turn face first; propelling it towards the audience's seating.
They ran, scrambled for safety as the uncontrollable lump of metal lunged towards them--all except one.
Their eyes locking with Riku's for a moment; a moment that felt like years to him before he finally decided to tightly shut his eyes.
All he could do was count to four...breathe in...and breathe out.
"Earth to Riku!" Kenji shouted out in a disembodied voice, pulling out Riku's earphones, "...did you even hear a single thing I said?"
A moment of silence was shared between them, Riku's body slowly processing that he'd just been trapped in an uncomfortable memory. Quickly after, he shook his head before leaning onto the school's rooftop railing; a cool breeze hitting him, seemingly carrying his thoughts away.
"Yeah...my fault, kind of got lost for a moment"
"A moment, he says." Kenji let out, a sigh escaping him as he dug into his pocket; pulling out his phone before showing Riku what it displayed.
"At least tell me you knew about the latest news,"
One glance at what he was being showed was enough to have Riku averting his gaze. He'd seen what was Kenji was freaking out about, and frankly, he wasn't interested.
Nissan's number 1 driver; or better known as 'Japan's no.1 driver' had just left the team right before the start of Infinity drive's new season--fair to say, it was a big deal.
"Is that what's making you lose your shit?"
"There you go acting all nonchalant about this," Kenji responded, his eyes widening as he read through the article again, "How the hell is Nissan supposed to stand a chance this season with him gone?"
"They won't and can't," Riku casually responded, turning to face his pal, "...they need one more driver, otherwise they won't qualify to compete this season."
"Who the hell can they even hire in a week!" Kenji let out, a disappointed tone lingering in his voice as he stuffed the phone into his pocket, "...and just when I thought they finally had a car that could fight for top spots."
A chuckle escaped Riku once he'd heard Kenji's words, his chuckle quickly turning to a laugh once he glanced at the man himself.
"No way you actually think the car's the issue."
"What else could it be?" Kenji responded, turning to face Riku with a serious expression pasted on his face, "...I mean, you heard Isamu; the car wasn't performing all season."
"Yet Daiki managed to pull it through to point scoring positions till the end?"
"So you're saying they have a chance with Isamu gone?"
Riku remained silent for a moment before scratching the back of his head, too tired to think deeply into the situation.
"Perhaps, maybe with a miracle..." He let out before being cut off by the sound of a creaking door from behind them.
Both Riku and Kenji turned their attention to who had invaded their space; a disinterested look quickly drawing itself on Riku's face as a mocking smirk grew on Kenji's. The person they'd gazed at was a figure that was more than just familiar to them.
Emiko Sato, a student better known for her ties to Nissan; Being a daughter to a higher up within the industry had its perks. Kenji and Riku knew her for other reasons--easily not as flashy.
"Looks like you're going to be needing a miracle too" He let out, tapping Riku's shoulder, "I'll take my leave, meet you back at the cafe later."
"No need, we'll be going there together." Riku responded, attempting to walk past Emiko who swiftly blocked his path; arms crossed as she shot a stern expression his way.
"Hold it...I'm not here because I want to be here. I'm here to send a message." She worded out, her hand stretching out towards him; a brown sealed letter loose in her grip
"...You don't have to read it here; but the one who wrote it would prefer if you read it as soon as you can."
Having completed her task, she stole a glance at Riku for a moment before slowly walking towards the rooftop's exit; Kenji throwing a salute his way as he followed after her once her steps faded away.
His confusion was evident; but his curiosity easily overshadowed it.
He'd been invisible enough in his new life as a high-school student; the only one who clearly knew him well within his class was his childhood pal--Kenji. His past adventures, relationships and identity were well hidden long before he even joined the school itself...so who the hell managed to convince Emiko enough to have her send a letter all the way to him.
For a moment, his brows furrowed; his thoughts leaning towards stuffing the letter into his bag, never seeing it again until it was long overdue--but then again, a part of him was very clearly against this idea; that part, unironically, was the victor.
His brows furrowed even more once he'd read it.
Now, his emotions were a blend of even more confusion, surprise and a hint of joy.
The choice of words, the handwriting, the excessive formality...he could identify who wrote the letter even if he suddenly lost his ability to read. All the more reason why his confusion simply grew; his eyes glued to the final lines of the letter.
"...I can't say everything on paper, but you understand what I mean.
From one old friend to another, we need this; you know where to find me.
-H.K"