Kenta lay collapsed on the cold asphalt of the Lake Haruna parking lot. His mouth was filled with the taste of iron. The nosebleed had already started to clot. His left eyelid was swollen, half his vision a blur. His school uniform was torn in several places, and blood was slowly seeping from the scrapes on his knees. His whole body ached. Just breathing made his ribs creak. Every time he moved a finger, his joints screamed in protest. *(It hurts...)* But more than that, he was frustrated. He couldn't protect anyone. He couldn't do anything. All he could do was crawl on the ground and shout. Punched, kicked, bleeding—that was it. Reading the *Initial D* tankoubon a hundred times didn't help in a fight. Knowledge alone couldn't protect anyone. *(I thought I could protect Takumi-san...)* Heat welled up behind his eyes. Kenta desperately fought back the tears threatening to spill over. Crying in a place like this would be pathetic. Just then, he heard the sound of engines in the distance. Not just one. Several. The sound of a light truck mixed with the high-pitched exhaust note of a sports car. Headlights illuminated the entrance to the parking lot. "There he is!" The sound of doors swinging open forcefully. Footsteps kicking against the asphalt, heading straight towards him. When he looked up, a familiar man with a crew cut stood there. A small scar marked his right eyebrow. His large palm was illuminated by the moonlight. It was Ikegaya Kouichirou. The moment Ikegaya saw Kenta's condition, he stopped in his tracks. His mouth, usually cracking jokes, tightened into a firm line. His round, dark eyes instantly turned serious. "...They got you good." A short sentence. But his voice was tinged with anger. Not anger directed at Kenta. It was a quiet rage aimed at the ones who had done this to him. From behind Ikegaya, three members of the Akina SpeedStars came running over. All of their faces were tense. "Can you stand, Kenta-kun?" Ikegaya reached out his hand. It was a big hand. A rough palm stained with oil from maintenance work. The scar he'd gotten when he crashed his bicycle into the mountain pass back in middle school stood out in the moonlight. With a trembling arm, Kenta grabbed that hand. "[scared]...You didn't have to come." His voice was hoarse. The back of his throat hurt. The taste of blood still hadn't faded. Ikegaya narrowed his eyes for just a moment. Then, he pulled Kenta's hand up with a firm, powerful grip. "[serious]Don't be stupid." Just four syllables. But those words seeped warmly into the center of Kenta's chest. *Don't be stupid.* Meaning, *Of course I'd come.* That's what it meant. Supported by Ikegaya's arm, Kenta staggered to his feet. His legs were shaking. The wound on his knee throbbed. But strangely, his heartbeat had calmed down just a little. Takumi sat silently in the driver's seat of the Hachiroku. His wavy brown hair swayed in the wind, and his sleepy, narrow eyes just quietly watched Kenta. He didn't say anything. But he hadn't gotten out of the car. That meant he'd been keeping watch, ready to move instantly until Kenta was safely rescued. The old burn scar on the ring finger of Takumi's left hand was gripping the steering wheel slightly tighter. *(This person was watching out for me too, properly.)* Thinking that, Kenta felt the heat behind his eyes return. Ikegaya put his arm around Kenta's shoulders and helped him into the passenger seat of his own light truck. "[serious]Takumi, we're going to the tofu shop. Okay?" Takumi gave a small nod and started the Hachiroku's engine. The quiet exhaust note of the 4A-GEU echoed through the late-night parking lot. In the passenger seat, Kenta clenched his trembling hands into tight fists. *(I wasn't alone.)* In his original world, he'd been an outcast in class. No one ever talked to him. Every day, he just sat in the corner of the classroom, rereading the *Initial D* tankoubon. He didn't have a single friend. But now, right in front of him, were people who had come to help him. Three cars drove down the mountain pass, surrounding Kenta's light truck as if to protect it. The light from their headlights cut through the darkness of the night, showing the way. It was just a little further to Fujiwara Tofu Shop. Kenta's new life was slowly beginning to move. — In the kitchen of Fujiwara Tofu Shop, the sweet smell of soy milk faintly lingered. Water stains marked the sink. An old calendar hung on the wall. The white light of the fluorescent lamp illuminated the scarred wooden table. Kenta sat on a chair, stripped to the waist. With his school uniform off, bruises were visible all over his thin body. The area around his ribs had turned purple, and a clear shoe print remained on his shoulder. Ikegaya opened a small first-aid kit and soaked a cotton ball with disinfectant. "[serious]It's gonna sting." Saying that shortly, Ikegaya applied the disinfectant to the wound on Kenta's cheek. "...Ngh." A sharp pain shot through him. Kenta couldn't help but grimace. "[gentle]Hold still." Ikegaya's voice was low and calm. He wasn't angry. But his usual jokester tone was gone. His large hands carefully wiped Kenta's wounds, as if handling something fragile. The scrape on his arm. The bump on his forehead. The swollen left eyelid. As he meticulously treated each wound, Ikegaya began to speak in fragments. "[serious]Hey, Kenta-kun. You rushed in alone today, didn't you?" Kenta couldn't answer. He'd hit the nail on the head. Trying to protect Takumi, he'd jumped out in front of those eight guys. Even though he couldn't fight. Even though he should have known, if he'd thought about it for a second, that he'd just get beaten to a pulp. "[serious]I get how you feel. You wanted to protect Takumi, right?" Ikegaya continued as he slowly applied a compress to the bruise on Kenta's shoulder. The coolness of the compress felt good on his heated skin. "[serious]But don't try to carry it all by yourself. You've got us. The SpeedStars guys, Takumi too—we're all your nakama." *Nakama.* That word settled deep in Kenta's chest. In his original world, all his classmates treated Kenta like a "weirdo." No one would listen to him talk about *Initial D*. Days spent alone in the classroom, just flipping through the tankoubon. But here, there were people who would race down the mountain pass for him. People who would tend to his wounds. People who would get angry for him. Not parents or teachers. Just "nakama," genuinely worried about him. "[gentle]Next time, call for us. Okay? That's all." Saying that, Ikegaya finally gave Kenta a light pat on the head. His large palm was very warm. The gesture of ruffling his hair was just like that of a much older brother. Kenta kept his head down and clenched his fists tightly. Behind his eyes, a burning heat. Deep in his nose, a sharp sting. The tears he'd been desperately holding back fell, *plop*, onto his thigh. *(I'm not alone.)* Biting down on his double tooth, he cried silently. Ikegaya said nothing, just sat beside Kenta and gently placed his large hand on his shoulder. In the kitchen of Fujiwara Tofu Shop, the sweet smell of soy milk mixed with the sharp scent of disinfectant. The white light of the fluorescent lamp quietly illuminated the two of them. Until the tears stopped, Ikegaya didn't say a word. But that silence was warmer than any words could have been. — The following afternoon, Kenta went around to the back of Fujiwara Tofu Shop. The bruises on his face still hurt. The swelling on his left eyelid hadn't gone down either. His whole body was sluggish, and his head felt hazy from lack of sleep. But there was something he absolutely had to ask Takumi. Out back, Takumi was checking the Hachiroku's tires. The white hood reflected the sunlight. As he checked the air pressure, running his fingers through the tire treads, Takumi continued his work in silence. His wavy brown hair swayed in the wind, his bedhead a little more pronounced than usual. Kenta stopped a short distance away. "[gentle]...Takumi-san." Takumi didn't stop his hands. He was using his fingers to dig out small pebbles lodged in the tire treads. The old burn scar on the ring finger of his left hand was illuminated by the sunlight. "...Tires are wearing down." An unrelated answer. But Kenta understood that this was Takumi's way of saying, "I'm listening." "[serious]Um, I really want to learn how to drive. Seriously." Takumi looked up. His narrow eyes stared intently at Kenta. Behind that sleepy gaze, something glinted quietly. "...Does it hurt?" That question was probably about yesterday's injuries. "[serious]It hurts. It hurts like hell. But more than that, I'm frustrated. I couldn't do anything. I tried to protect someone, but ended up being protected instead, and—" "...If you learn to drive, will that change?" Takumi's voice was as short and blunt as ever. But there was a probing tone in those words. He was trying to gauge if Kenta was serious. Kenta looked straight into Takumi's eyes. "[serious]It will change. Definitely." An immediate answer. There was no hesitation. Takumi was silent for a few seconds. The wind blew down from Mount Akina, caressing the body of the Hachiroku. The sound of insects could be heard in the distance. "...You really want to drive?" It was a question he'd been asked before. But this time, the meaning was different. Before, it had been a light confirmation: "Are you interested?" This time, it was a heavy question: "Understanding the danger, do you still have the resolve to drive?" Kenta took a deep breath. "[serious]I want to drive. No matter how scared I get, no matter how much it hurts, I want to learn to drive. I want to be able to battle on Akina, just like you, Takumi-san." Takumi stared at Kenta for a while. Then, he abruptly averted his gaze and wiped a smudge off the hood with his finger. "...I see." That was all. But to Kenta, it meant "Understood." Takumi got into the driver's seat of the Hachiroku and started the engine. The quiet exhaust note of the 4A-GEU echoed behind the shop. "[gentle]Get in." The passenger door opened. Kenta hurried over. His whole body ached, but he couldn't care less about that. "[excited]Yes!" The passenger seat of the Hachiroku felt the same as always. The firm seat. The faint smell of gasoline. A pair of worn-out work gloves sat on the dashboard. Takumi quietly pulled the Hachiroku out. Their destination: the mountain pass of Akina. To the place where the downhill hairpins continued. Kenta's heart pounded like a frantic drum. *(It's starting. My real battle.)* — That night, six people had gathered in the parking lot of Seven-Star Shibukawa Akina—the SpeedStars' hangout at the foot of Mount Akina. The light from the vending machines dimly illuminated the asphalt. An empty can of coffee lay discarded in a corner. The members, who would normally be joking and laughing, were all silent tonight. Ikegaya Kouichirou looked around at everyone's faces. He lightly smoothed down his crew cut and began to speak in a lower voice than usual. "[serious]Listen up. Three days from now, late at night, the official Akina downhill battle between Takumi and Ryou has been set." The members' faces tensed. "[serious]But this isn't an ordinary battle. Ryou's goal isn't winning or losing; it's to destroy the Hachiroku. He's coming with the intent to make Takumi crash." A heavy silence fell over the parking lot. He could hear someone swallow hard. Listening to this from the corner, Kenta felt his heart slowly turn cold. His knowledge of *Initial D* replayed in his head automatically. Ryou's driving style involved diving into corners beyond the limits of braking. Once his switch was flipped, his dangerous driving could easily take his opponent down with him. *(Takumi-san is in serious danger.)* His heartbeat quickened. Sweat beaded o