The Hakone Time Trial event was over.
Engines that had screamed through the mountain hours earlier now sat silent, ticking softly as heat bled out of metal. The mountain itself seemed to exhale—mist drifting lazily across the asphalt, the sharp scent of burnt rubber and hot oil lingering in the cool air.
At the starting line, only a handful of cars remained.
Some were already loaded onto trailers. Others sat with hoods open, mechanics crouched low with flashlights and rags, checking for anything that might have gone wrong during a full-send run down Hakone's unforgiving sectors.
Large printed sheets were posted at multiple desks near the start area—white paper fluttering slightly in the breeze. Names. Cars. Sector splits. Final times.
The truth, laid bare in black ink.
Near the small concrete toilet building—its walls stained from years of rain and exhaust—six familiar figures gathered around a weathered plastic table.
Tokai Teio leaned back against the edge, arms crossed.
Silence Suzuka stood upright, posture calm, eyes steady.
Maruzensky rested her hands on the tabletop, her usual confidence muted by thought.
King Halo stood stiffly, tail flicking once behind her.
Agnes Tachyon hovered forward, already vibrating with barely contained excitement.
Manhattan Cafe lingered just behind them, coffee in hand, gaze low but attentive.
And Special Week stood at the center, unsure whether she should be excited… or nervous.
A single sheet of paper lay between them.
Tachyon was the first to reach for it.
She scanned the list quickly—too quickly—and then froze.
Her pupils shrank.
"…Holy shit."
Everyone looked at her.
King Halo's ear twitched.
"Huh?"
Before anyone else could react, King Halo snatched the paper straight out of Tachyon's hands.
"Give me that!"
She skimmed the top first—then the sector times.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes widened.
And with a sharp, involuntary motion, her ears snapped straight upward.
She didn't say a word.
She simply turned, stiff-armed, and passed the paper to Special Week.
"..."
That silence alone was enough.
Maruzensky leaned in first, heels clicking softly on the pavement.
Teio followed, craning her neck.
Suzuka stepped closer, eyes already narrowing in focus.
Cafe drifted in last, shadowing the group.
Special Week stared down at the sheet.
"…Eh?"
Maruzensky's eyes widened.
"Whoa…"
Teio let out a low whistle.
Suzuka merely exhaled, slow and measured.
"I… am not that surprised."
Special Week blinked and looked up, ears drooping slightly.
"I-Is it bad?"
Maruzensky shook her head immediately.
"No. Not bad. Not even close."
She reached out and tapped the paper, finger landing precisely on the sector breakdown.
"It's just that…"
"…we lacked pace in Sector Three."
She slid her finger across three lines.
"My time. Suzuka's. And the Emperor's."
The gap was unmistakable.
Seconds.
Not tenths.
Seconds.
"The Emperor gained more time in Sector Three than she did in Sectors One and Two combined."
King Halo clenched her fists.
"…That section is nothing but blind corners, compression dips, and downhill braking."
Maruzensky sighed, rolling her shoulders back.
"Exactly. That's where it matters most."
She shook her head once, smiling faintly—half admiration, half disbelief.
"Being even a second off in a time trial is already a big deal."
Her smile faded.
"Being seconds off?"
She let the sentence die there.
Suzuka nodded slowly.
"Yeah. That wasn't just speed."
She closed her eyes briefly.
"That was commitment."
Cafe finally spoke, voice quiet.
"…And confidence."
Maruzensky hummed in agreement, eyes closed again.
"Mhm…"
Special Week gently set the paper back down on the table.
She looked around the starting area.
The cars were there.
Her own.
Maruzensky's Countach.
Suzuka's NSX, still ticking faintly as it cooled.
But—
"…Uhh… Suzuka-san?"
Suzuka turned her head.
"Hm?"
Special Week looked around again, then back at Suzuka.
"You and Maruzensky-san's cars are here but…"
She hesitated.
"…Where's the Emperor's?"
That question lingered.
Suzuka tapped her chin.
"That's a fair point."
She glanced toward the line, then toward the posted results.
"Podium placers usually keep their cars near the start until official confirmation."
Maruzensky narrowed her eyes slightly.
Then—almost theatrically—she reached into her pocket.
She patted once.
Twice.
Her expression shifted.
"…Dang."
She patted her dress, her skirt, then her stockings.
"I left my phone."
Suzuka raised an eyebrow.
"With a marshal?"
Maruzensky nodded smoothly.
"Mhm. Near the parking area."
She smiled casually.
"I asked him to record my launch from a different angle."
Suzuka chuckled softly.
"Ah. I see."
Maruzensky turned and jogged off—
—but not toward the marshals stationed near the start line.
She headed the opposite direction.
Toward the parking area just before the entrance to the Anest Iwata Turnpike Hakone Road.
Away from the crowd.
Away from the results.
Away from prying eyes.
Her phone was still in her pocket.
She knew exactly where the Emperor's car was.
And she intended to see it herself.
Maruzensky reached the parking lot.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
The usual clutter of cars—trailers, support vans, half-cooled machines—was absent here. The far end of the lot was empty, marked only by faded white lines and a few fallen leaves skittering across the asphalt.
There was only one car present.
A Ferrari F40.
Painted deep green.
Not loud.
Not flashy.
Just… there.
It sat idling, low and wide, the twin turbos breathing softly through the titanium exhaust. The sound wasn't aggressive—it was restrained, controlled, like a predator at rest. Heat shimmered faintly above the rear deck, the LM-style spoiler casting a long shadow across the pavement.
Maruzensky stopped walking.
She stared at it for a moment.
Then she chuckled.
Slowly, deliberately, she began to clap.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The applause echoed off the empty lot.
The F40's engine shut off.
The sound died instantly, leaving only the ticking of cooling metal.
The driver's door slid open with a sharp mechanical click.
Symboli Rudolf stepped out.
She closed the door carefully—no slam, no rush—letting it latch with a soft, expensive thud. The exposed carbon weave inside the door caught the light for just a second before disappearing again.
Rudolf straightened, adjusted her jacket, and looked up.
Maruzensky shook her head, smiling.
"Well done, Rudolf."
She took a few steps closer.
"You finally decided not to hold back anymore, huh?"
Rudolf smiled faintly and nodded.
"It's not like I can stay back forever, Maruzensky."
The two walked toward each other across the open lot.
They met halfway.
A quick dap—firm, familiar, respectful.
Maruzensky's smile widened.
"Nicely done. Setting a brand-new all-time record at the event."
Rudolf chuckled, folding her arms across her chest.
"Well, I did give it one hundred and ten percent."
Maruzensky tilted her head slightly, eyes drifting toward the F40 behind Rudolf.
The early-model body.
The LM aero.
The subtle stance that screamed function over show.
"Figures."
Then her expression shifted.
She glanced back toward the direction of the start line.
"Now…"
"…how are you planning to tell the others?"
Rudolf's lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"Well…"
"They'll find out when they call my real name on the podium."
Maruzensky's eyes widened slightly.
She raised both hands.
"Whoa, whoa—hold on."
She blinked.
"They knew your name all along?"
Rudolf laughed softly, placing her right hand on her hip.
"Come now, Maruzensky."
"It's not like I walked up and said, 'Call me Emperor and never ask questions.'"
She shrugged.
"Think of it more as… an alias."
She shook her head once.
"Besides, I specifically told the organizers—if I make the podium, use my real name."
Maruzensky scratched the back of her head.
"Oh."
She paused.
Then hooked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing back toward the start area.
"You do have to bring your car up to the podium, though."
Rudolf shook her head calmly.
"Not required."
She glanced back at the F40.
"It's optional."
Maruzensky blinked again.
"Oh… I see."
Before she could say anything else—
The speakers crackled to life.
Static.
Then a clear voice echoed across the mountain.
"Attention, everyone!"
"With that, folks, comes the end of the Annual Autumn Hakone Turnpike Time Trial Event!"
"We thank everyone who entered and participated!"
The sound carried all the way down the parking lot.
Maruzensky looked back at Rudolf.
"Well…"
She turned on her heel.
"…here we go."
She broke into a jog, heading back toward the others near the start line.
Rudolf watched her go.
She chuckled softly.
"Never change, Maruzensky."
She turned her gaze upward, toward the sky above Hakone—clouds drifting slowly, sunlight breaking through in thin bands.
Then she looked back at her F40.
At the car that had rewritten the mountain's record.
"You're all in for the surprise of your lives."
At the podium.
A temporary stage had been set directly beneath the toll gate, banners fluttering lightly in the mountain breeze. Cameras lined the front, tripods packed shoulder-to-shoulder as spectators filled every inch of open space behind the safety barriers.
One of the commentators stood beside the small podium, microphone in hand.
His voice carried clearly across the start area.
"We'd like to take a moment to thank all our volunteer rescue workers and safety crews stationed throughout the course today."
A ripple of applause moved through the crowd.
"And more importantly—a huge thank you to the organizers of this annual event for making this possible year after year."
He paused, smiling.
"And for the first time in Hakone Time Trial history…"
He gestured toward the podium.
"We have an all-female podium!"
The reaction was immediate.
Cheers. Whistles. Camera shutters firing nonstop.
The commentator reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope.
He opened it carefully, eyes scanning the contents.
"And in third place."
He looked up briefly, letting the tension sit.
"A strong run and a great effort nonetheless."
He glanced back down.
"With a time of three minutes dead."
He raised his head, voice lifting.
"The red Lamborghini Countach LP5000QV—twin turbo!"
"Driven by Maruzensky-san!"
Right on cue, Maruzensky came jogging in from the side, slowing to an easy pace as she waved to the crowd. Her ears flicked proudly, tail swaying with unmistakable confidence.
Applause erupted.
She laughed lightly and hopped onto the right side of the podium, landing on the bold, painted 3 with ease. She turned and gave a playful salute to the crowd before resting her hands on her hips.
The commentator nodded approvingly before checking the paper again.
"And in second place…"
He paused.
"Edging out Maruzensky by one point four seconds."
He looked straight out at the spectators.
"Two-time Hakone uphill champion—Silence Suzuka!"
The crowd exploded again.
Special Week clapped enthusiastically, nodding.
"Congratulations, Suzuka-san!"
Suzuka smiled—small, composed—and waved as she walked forward. Her posture was calm, but her ears twitched from the noise as she stepped up onto the second podium slot.
She exchanged a glance with Maruzensky.
A brief handshake.
Mutual respect.
Then—
The commentator looked back down at the paper.
His expression changed.
His brows lifted.
He stared at the name for a moment longer than necessary.
The crowd noticed.
A hush began to spread.
"And for first place…"
He drew a breath.
"An entrant who has missed the podium for four consecutive years."
"Known to many simply as—"
"The Emperor."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
The commentator scanned the area.
Then his eyes locked onto someone approaching from behind the spectators.
"In first place…"
"Driving the green Ferrari F40."
"With a time of—"
He raised his voice.
"Two minutes and—"
He paused just long enough to let the suspense tighten.
"FIFTY SECONDS."
Then, loud and clear—
"A TRIPLE CROWN WINNER!"
"THE EMPEROR—SYMBOLI RUDOLF!"
The crowd gasped.
Audibly.
Ears snapped upright across the start area.
Tachyon froze, eyes wide.
Cafe's jaw dropped.
Special Week's ears stood straight up, tail stiffening in shock.
Teio stopped breathing for a moment.
Suzuka's eyes widened.
Her jaw slowly fell open.
"K—Kaichou…?!"
Maruzensky, already on the podium, merely smirked—head slightly bowed, exactly as if she'd known all along.
Symboli Rudolf stepped through the crowd, raising one hand in a calm wave.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then the realization hit.
The crowd erupted.
Cheers thundered across the toll gate as people clapped, shouted, and pointed cameras toward her. The name Symboli Rudolf spread like wildfire.
Rudolf stepped up onto the highest podium slot, landing cleanly on the 1.
She nodded once—to Maruzensky.
Once—to Suzuka.
Suzuka leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice.
"Kaichou…"
"You have a lot of explaining to do to Teio."
Rudolf nodded quietly.
"I know, Suzuka."
"I know."
Her eyes drifted toward the crowd.
Toward Teio.
Teio stood frozen.
Jaw dropped.
Tachyon shook her head slowly.
"I… whoa…"
Cafe exhaled.
"Same, Tachyon."
"Same."
King Halo was completely speechless.
Special Week, however, clapped enthusiastically.
"Congratulations, Kaichou!"
She glanced sideways.
Teio was still staring.
Clapping—slowly.
Almost mechanically.
Special Week scratched the back of her head.
"U-Um… Teio?"
Teio finally spoke.
Her voice was quiet.
"K—Kaichou…"
Three organizers stepped forward.
One at a time.
The first presented a bronze trophy to Maruzensky.
She accepted it with a grin, shaking hands firmly.
The second followed suit.
Then the third stepped forward.
This time, it was the founder of the event himself.
A man known simply as Takahashi.
He approached Rudolf.
They exchanged a firm handshake.
Respectful.
Measured.
Then Takahashi handed her the trophy.
Rudolf took it in both hands.
She looked down at it for a long moment.
Then raised it high, fist clenched.
The crowd roared.
Applause thundered across the mountain.
Teio began clapping faster.
Harder.
She nodded.
"Congratulations, Kaichou."
Rudolf looked at her.
Held her gaze.
Then nodded back.
Time passed on.
The crowds near the podium slowly thinned, engines starting up one by one as entrants packed up and departed. The mountain air grew quieter, the echoes of applause replaced by the distant sound of cars descending the turnpike.
Back at the parking lot near the lower access road.
Symboli Rudolf stood beside her Ferrari F40.
The green paint still radiated warmth under the afternoon sun, faint ticking sounds coming from the cooling engine bay. She reached behind her shoulders and unclasped the small red cape resting against her back, folding it once before tossing it onto the passenger seat through the open door.
Next came the gloves.
She pulled the left one off slowly, then the right, flexing her fingers as she laid them beside the cape. Her hands still carried the faint vibration of the run—of pushing the car beyond what she had allowed herself to do for years.
Footsteps approached.
"Ah. Maruzen."
Rudolf glanced up.
Maruzensky stopped right in front of her, hands in her pockets, eyes flicking briefly to the F40 before returning to Rudolf.
"Need some sort of convoy?"
Rudolf tilted her head slightly, amused.
"Don't mind if I tag along with you?"
Maruzensky scratched the back of her head.
"Yeah, well… about that—"
Before she could finish—
"Kaichou!"
Footsteps broke into a run.
Teio came charging in, ears pinned forward, tail stiff with emotion. She stopped abruptly in front of Rudolf, breathing hard, standing between her and Maruzensky.
"Kaichou!" Teio blurted out.
"Why didn't you tell us you were the Emperor?!"
Rudolf exhaled slowly.
She closed the F40's door with a soft thump and turned fully toward Teio.
"Because," she said calmly,
"four years ago, the words Uma… and car didn't really coexist."
Teio froze.
Rudolf continued.
"Back then, Maruzensky was the only one driving. The rest of us stayed strictly on the designated running lanes—highways, paths, tracks."
She glanced briefly at Maruzensky, who nodded in quiet confirmation.
"Then Maruzensky convinced me to try driving," Rudolf said.
"That's how I ended up with my RX-7 FB."
Teio stepped closer.
"But—what about the F40?!"
Rudolf turned her head toward the Ferrari.
"This?"
She chuckled softly, resting a hand against the roofline.
"I got this car from an old friend of my trainer. He ran into me one night in Tokyo while I was driving the FB."
Rudolf's eyes softened slightly.
"He recognized how I handled the car… and offered me a deal I couldn't refuse."
She looked back at Teio.
"After that, I studied. Learned. Fixed it myself. Sourced the F40 LM parts directly from Italy. Every bolt, every component—I chose them."
Tachyon raised a finger, eyes sharp.
"But I've never seen your F40 at campus."
Rudolf nodded.
"That's because I keep it in a separate garage. There's a service access location most people don't even notice."
She sighed lightly.
"But now that you know… there's no reason to hide it anymore."
A faint smirk appeared.
"Besides," she added,
"a car like this shouldn't be driven only a few times a year."
Her gaze returned to Teio.
"Tell you what, Teio."
Teio blinked.
"Yes, Kaichou?"
Rudolf placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
"You wanted to ride with me, didn't you?"
Teio nodded instantly.
Rudolf smiled.
"I know a scenic place we can go during winter."
Teio tilted her head.
"Where, Kaichou?"
Rudolf looked up at the sky, where thin clouds drifted lazily over Hakone.
"The Naruto Skyline," she said.
"Tokushima Prefecture."
She looked back down.
"What do you say, Teio?"
Teio nodded without hesitation.
"Yes, Kaichou! Of course!"
Then—
She raised a finger.
"But one condition."
Rudolf raised an eyebrow.
"What is it?"
Teio hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the others.
"We bring Tachyon, Suzuka, Halo, Spe, and Maruzensky."
Then she pointed directly at the Ferrari.
"And you drive your F40."
Rudolf sighed.
But she was smiling.
"I knew you'd say that."
She nodded once.
"Alright. Deal."
Teio clenched her fist.
"Yes! Thank you, Kaichou!"
Rudolf chuckled.
"No need to thank me. I promised you weeks ago that I'd take you on a road trip once my schedule cleared."
She glanced skyward again.
"And winter break is just around the corner."