Kenta woke to the cold feel of asphalt. The road surface against his cheek was cool, carrying a faint smell of scorched tires. "...Huh?" He pushed himself upright. Spread out before him was a hairpin curve he recognized. A steep grade, and a shallow gutter carved into the outside edge. A place he'd seen hundreds of times on the screen. (*Akina...*) Kenta got to his feet. His bangs, a little too long, hung in his eyes—annoying. He gathered them into a small knot at the back while scanning his surroundings. A mountain pass late at night. Streetlights were sparse, and the sound of insects seemed unnaturally loud. (*Why am I here?*) Just moments ago, he should have been in his room, re-reading the *Initial D* tankoubon. Yet now he was standing on the very pass from those pages. He slipped off his backpack and checked inside—his beloved full-volume set was there, safe and sound. Along with his wallet and, for some reason, a Shibukawa North High School student handbook. He opened the handbook. It clearly read "Toyota Kenta." A photo was pasted inside, too. But a school like this hadn't existed in his original world. (*No way...*) Kenta blinked his brown, droopy eyes rapidly. His mischievous-looking gaze was now filled with confusion. Across the road stretched a cliff with no guardrail. Peering down, he saw a thicket of scrub trees about three meters deep. A crash here wouldn't end well. "[surprised]So this is... the real Akina...!" Saying it aloud made the reality sink in, bit by bit. His heart pounded like a frantic drum. This was the place he'd admired for so long. The sacred ground of street racers he'd only ever seen in books. He never imagined he'd actually make it here. (*I'll walk.*) Kenta started down the pass, hands shoved in the pockets of his school uniform, taking it slow. The night air was crisp and slightly damp. Summer was almost here, but the mountain was cool. (*Akina's Five Consecutive Hairpins should be up ahead.*) The layout of the pass, memorized from the manga, replayed automatically in his head. Twelve kilometers total length, six hundred meters of elevation change. The five consecutive hairpins came in the second half of the downhill course. The road was barely over five meters wide, with no guardrails. The place where Takumi had blown past opponents with the gutter run. As he walked, Kenta looked down at his clothes. The dark blue uniform of Shibukawa North High. He stood 172 centimeters tall, having grown quite a bit since middle school. Still slender, but he felt he'd filled out better than before. His knees bore several scars from frequent falls. When he smiled, his double canine teeth showed—something he was a little self-conscious about. (*If this really is the world of Initial D... I might get to meet Takumi.*) The moment he thought that, light approached from behind. White headlights. The engine sound was quiet. But he recognized that sound. The 4A-GEU. The heart of the Hachiroku, heard countless times on screen. Kenta waved his hand on reflex. "[excited]Hey, stop! Pull over!" A white-and-black panda color scheme. Square headlights. An AE86 Sprinter Trueno. The Hachiroku slowly came to a stop beside Kenta. The window rolled down. In the driver's seat was a young man with wavy brown hair. His narrow eyes looked sleepy, yet somehow sharp. Maybe around 176 centimeters tall. His slightly bed-headed hair swayed in the breeze. "...What." A short word. Expressionless. (*It's really him... Fujiwara Takumi.*) Kenta screamed inside his head. The street racer he'd admired on screen was right here, right now. He barely managed to suppress the excitement that threatened to make his voice crack. "[excited]Um, my name's Kenta! I've read all of Initial D! I know about Akina and about you, Takumi-san!" Takumi furrowed his brow. "...Initial D?" "[serious]It's a long story, but anyway, I know your driving is incredible! The gutter run, the inertia drift, all of it!" Takumi fell silent for a moment, studying Kenta's enthusiasm intently. (*Crap, he probably thinks I'm some weirdo.*) But he couldn't back down. If he backed out now, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. "[serious]Could I ride in the passenger seat? Just once is all I ask!" Takumi sighed. "...I'm in the middle of a tofu delivery." "[excited]Delivery or whatever, I don't care! Please!" Silence. Only the sound of insects echoed. Takumi rolled up the window. (*Ah, no good...*) But the next moment, the passenger door opened. "...Get in." Takumi's voice was as curt as ever, but it wasn't a refusal. Kenta hurriedly slid into the passenger seat. The car's interior had a faint smell of oil—characteristic of an old car, but not unpleasant. The seat was a little firm, with a sensation that wrapped around his body. "[excited]Thank you very much!" Without a word, Takumi pressed the clutch. They started moving. Slowly at first. But as a corner approached, Takumi's movements changed. Downshift. Heel-and-toe. The engine revs climbed. The next instant, Kenta's body was pressed back into the seat. "Whoa!" The lateral G-force was intense. The Hachiroku dove into the corner. Takumi's hands were precise. The angle of the steering wheel, the degree of throttle input—nothing was wasted. (*This is... the gutter run!*) The car lurched, sinking down for a split second. The rear tires dropped into the road's gutter, stabilizing the chassis. At the corner exit, Takumi floored the accelerator. The engine screamed. The high-pitched wail of the 4A-GEU echoed through the night pass. "[whispers]Amazing..." Kenta held his breath. The car was like a living creature. The Hachiroku responded faithfully to Takumi's inputs, yet sometimes threatened to step out too far. That razor-edge balance generated incredible speed. The next hairpin. Takumi delayed his braking. He plunged into the corner at a speed that normally couldn't be negotiated. (*Inertia drift...!*) The car went sideways. The tires shrieked. But Takumi remained calm. He applied counter-steer and controlled the throttle. The car carved through the corner with precision, as if running on rails. "[excited]This is... the real thing...!" Something burst open inside Kenta's chest. (*I want to drive, too.*) The admiration he'd felt through a screen transformed into a tangible sensation. The vibration of the road transmitted through the seat. The acrid smell of burning tires stinging his nose. The G-forces pressing on his body. This was real. The hero from the screen existed in reality. And he was sitting right next to him. (*I want to grip the wheel, too...*) Kenta's droopy eyes sparkled brightly. Before long, the car arrived at a lakeside parking area. Lake Haruna parking lot. A space that could hold about forty cars, with a few vehicles visible. There were two vending machines, and several figures stood around them. "We're here." Takumi spoke curtly and killed the engine. As Kenta got out of the car, one of the figures approached. He had a short, dark brown crew cut, shaved a bit on the sides. His round, dark eyes gave off a sense of reliability. He stood about 175 centimeters tall. His hair, lightly styled with product, reflected the streetlight. "Oh, Takumi. Who's the kid?" "...Dunno. Picked him up." "Don't say 'picked him up' like he's a dog or a cat." The man laughed and extended a hand to Kenta. "[gentle]I'm Ikegaya Kouichirou. I lead a team called the Akina SpeedStars. And you?" "I'm Kenta. Toyota Kenta." "[laughing]Kenta, huh. Nice to meet you." Ikegaya grinned amiably. He winked and clapped Kenta on the shoulder. That gesture alone told Kenta this guy was a good person. Several other men were in the parking lot. All seemed to be street racers. One had the hood of a modified car open, checking the engine. Another was chatting over a can of coffee. Ikegaya bought a can of coffee from the vending machine and handed it to Kenta. 120 yen. Same price as in this world, apparently. "[gentle]Street racers gather here late every Friday and Saturday night. To exchange info, test their skills, that sort of thing." Kenta listened as he opened his coffee. "[serious]The Akina SpeedStars... is Takumi-san a member?" "Nah, Takumi's not an official member. But he's our de facto ace. Nobody can imitate his driving." Ikegaya glanced over at Takumi. Takumi was leaning against the Hachiroku, silently drinking his coffee. "[gentle]Akina's street racers have an unwritten code. Leader and chaser are decided beforehand. Intentional contact is forbidden. If you lose, you accept the result. Don't involve regular cars. We all enjoy the pass by following those rules." "[excited]I know! I read it in Initial D!" "Initial...? Ah, whatever." Ikegaya laughed and took a sip of his coffee. Kenta looked around. Mount Akina's elevation was about 1,100 meters. This Lake Haruna parking lot was near the summit. The lake's circumference was roughly five kilometers, and the loop road was apparently used for racer practice. (*The sense of alienation I felt in my original world... it's not here.*) He'd always been an outsider at school. He had no friends he could talk about cars with. But now, here, there were comrades who loved cars just as much. That alone warmed him deep in his chest. But that atmosphere was suddenly shattered. A low engine sound approached from the darkness. Not just one. Multiple cars. Everyone in the parking lot turned toward the sound. A group of black Silvias appeared. All the cars were painted black, with stickers depicting a red crescent moon and blood drops on their bodies. "Bloody Moon..." Ikegaya's voice hardened. The Silvia stopped, and a man stepped out of the driver's seat. His shoulder-length black hair was carelessly slicked back. Lean build, about 178 centimeters tall. Sharp, yellowish-brown eyes scanned the parking lot as if searching for prey. His pupils were small, giving him a raptor-like glare. "Kurosaki Ryou..." Ikegaya muttered. Ryou walked over slowly. Four more men got out behind him. All drove black cars bearing the same sticker. "[cold]The Akina SpeedStars, huh. Still playing around in a dump like this." Ryou's voice was cold. Devoid of emotion. But hatred swirled deep in his eyes. "[serious]Kurosaki, what are you guys here for? This is our home." "[sarcastic]Home? That'll be gone soon enough." Ryou stopped in front of Ikegaya. Then, loud enough for the whole parking lot to hear, he declared: "[cold]We're going to crush every street racer on Akina. To hell with your unwritten code. This pass you treasure, your culture—we'll destroy it all." The entire parking lot froze. No one spoke. Someone dropped their can of coffee. The metallic clang echoed unnaturally loud. Kenta looked into Ryou's eyes. He saw genuine hatred there. This wasn't just intimidation. This man truly intended to eradicate street racers. (*This guy... he's serious.*) Ryou's gaze shifted to Takumi, leaning against the Hachiroku. "[cold]That Hachiroku over there... Fujiwara Takumi, right?" Takumi didn't answer. He took a sip of his coffee and slowly looked at Ryou. "[cold]I've heard the rumors. Akina's fastest Hachiroku. The legendary racer who blows opponents away with the gutter run. But legends exist to be broken." Takumi remained silent. "[cold]I'll wreck your Hachiroku. Turn it into scrap and display its parts as trophies." Kenta's legs trembled. (*These guys... they really mean to destroy the cars.*) There hadn't been people like this in the world on the screen. The battles in *Initial D* were, at their core, sport. But the man before him now was different. He targeted street racers with clear, malicious intent. Takumi finally opened his mouth. "...If you want to try, go ahead." A short statement. But it carried a strong will. Ryou's lips twisted. "[cold]Don't forget those words." Then Ryou spun on his heel and walked back to his Silvia. The five