Y.O.T.B.R. - Finale + Epilogue

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Tell you what though, the Impreza TC is now a total monster through corners, especially if you add some weight to the rear. The thing is near perfect!
 
Tell you what though, the Impreza TC is now a total monster through corners, especially if you add some weight to the rear. The thing is near perfect!

I haven't touched mine since the update, although it will be featured at some point.
 
Update - Due to the SAT's coming for me in just three days (this Saturday) the next chapter will be delayed slightly. Gotta cram that studying in.
 
LOOOOOOOOONG chapter, and longer delay. Life's back in order though, and with that comes the next installment.

:::

Chapter Seven: Hellraiser

Date: February 8th, 2012.
Location: Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca, California, USA.
Time: Noon



I pulled up to the gate, where two men were standing – an armed security guard, and a man checking things off on a piece of paper.

“Good morning, sir. And you are here for the Academy?”

“Yes.”

“Your name, please?”

“Ricky Robledo.”

“Robledo, Robledo... Ah. You're on the list. I welcome you to the Academy, and ask that you park your car in the infield – but not in the pits, please. We need the space to get the cars ready.”

“No problem.”

:::

About three hours later, I was sitting in the pit lane, waiting for the host to come over and explain what's going on to us. It was going to be a televised event, and there actually were a large number of fans in the stands who were going to be watching the event.

“Oh boy... What's he doing, getting his makeup done?”

“Possibly. He's one of the pretty-boy types who do well on TV...”

“Plus the Justin Bieber haircut. Godawful, if you ask me.”

I had sort of made friends with two of the other drivers – Andrew Norris, the man from Alabama – and Mei Ling, the Chinese-American woman.

There were going to be three sets racing of 24 cars each. The winner and second place – first loser, as Andrew put it – would advance, and the fan favorite of each set would also advance.
The cars were 100% identical Mazda Miatas that were tuned and set up to SCCA specifications – the only difference was the color.

“Does he use gallons of gel on his hair, like the guy from the adverts – the one about the towel thing?”

“Possibly. The ShamWow guy?”

“Yeah, that's the one. Was thinking ScamWow, but it didn't fit right...”

“Heh.”

And finally... the handsome idiot makes his appearance.

“All drivers, please assemble over here... and I'll tell you what's about to happen.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Location: Where else? Classified.

“...”

“Do you not agree... that it's a good idea?”

“I don't want to be used for this... It's not right.”

“You have no choice. You fit the profile of what we need.”

You really have no compassion for anyone, do you...

“What if I refuse?”

“Then you'll be forced to do it, once we manipulate Requiem's emotions to have an unsatiable lust for you... In fact, bring him in right now...”

I waited for a good amount of time...

When they finally brought him in... he looked... Changed.

As in defeated. As in ready to give up. As in a man trapped by a cruel fate he couldn't hope to escape.

“As you can see... he doesn't want to do this to you. But... he has no choice, just as you have no choice but to be the host for the child.”

You're mad, you're stark raving mad, you sick, twisted bastard...

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“So... the idea is to win the two-lap race around here. First place gets to continue on to the second round, and second place does as well. And based on how the fans feel – someone other than the top two drivers will also advance.”

“That's it? Doesn't seem much like an academy...”

“Allow me to elaborate. As my co-host has explained in the most basic of terms, you need to win the two-lap race around here.”

“You may possibly think that we're jumping the gun without giving you any prior experience – but the idea is to see who can handle pressure the best. As it has been evidenced many times in racing... the ones who can stand up to pressure... are the ones who often do the best.”

“The ones who can pressure others, though... that's what makes them even more deadly than those who can deal with pressure. Dale Earnhardt, Sr – the “Intimidator” - was the best at it. Others... like the legendary John van Druten – combined godly skill with that factor to be the best that ever lived.”

“We do just want to see how you handle this challenge – you will all actually get to advance, but for the sake of brevity and TV ratings... we have to make it sound good. Sorry if you don't care for that, but... it's just how we had to do things when making this academy.”

“Now... will all drivers please head to the car selected for you at random...”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

His gaze... can freeze anyone in their tracks. And it did for me.

He looked me over, and after pausing for a while – he threw the most malevolent gaze I had ever seen at me and and the other Rose.


“... I see the extent... of your madness now.”

“It's not madness if it works, right?”

“...Your conception of life is misguided. And your birth into this world... was a black stain on the world as a whole.”

She backhanded him severely across the face, and he fell down on his hands, spitting out blood.

“You really don't want to continue insulting me, now do you?”

Quick as a flash, his right hand shot out, grabbed her around the ankle, and yanked her straight off of her feet. Her head hit the ground... hard.
Before he could do anything else, one of the guards hit him with a taser blast, and he fell facefirst to the ground, unmoving.

After about ten minutes, he revived – to be strapped into the chair against the far wall, still woozy. She was still sitting on the ground, holding her head.


“Are you alright, ma'am?”

“I'll live.”

“Now I'm worried.”

“That I'm still forcing you to be the host?”

“No. That... you're breeding... with that monster...”

“... You know... As much as I don't want to admit it... You're 100% right. He's changed.”

“He'll kill you... and everyone else... if he gets the chance.”

“Again, you're right. I may reconsider... Give me time to think. In the meantime... let her go.”

“What?”

“Let her free. Just keep her in the complex – I'll ask for you again when I make my decision.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_15.jpg


Well... I got myself into this mess... Let's see if I can't just get myself out.

“All the racers are lined up and ready to go! Three... Two... One... GOGOGO!”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_16.jpg


I dove into the first turn, trying to stay with the white #31 – Andrew. I didn't know what car Mei Ling had gotten in, and I didn't have time to guess – this car felt like it was driving on ice. Even so, I was able to pass him exiting the turn. However...

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_17.jpg


“And the blue #2 Miata has gone slightly off course...”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_18.jpg


“And a second time! He must be having a real issue with controlling the car...”

Yeah, you try driving this rabid honey badger, Mr. Gel Master.

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_19.jpg


I swung wide entering the turn, and nearly clipped the #77 on the corner exit.

I kept with him (or her), up until the Corkscrew...

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_20.jpg


“First time into the Corkscrew, let's see how they all do...”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_21.jpg


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“And the number 2 Miata has spun around exiting the Cockscrew! What a rookie mistake!”

Anyone can hit the gas too early, you idiot... Despite feeling like giving up, I decided to continue on – possibly getting the popular vote for being an Eddie the Eagle.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“You watching him, both of you?”

“Yeah... made a simple mistake already. He's going balls-to-the-wall to catch back up, though...”

“What's the status on your decision?”

“...I've thought about it, and... Well... it's not a good idea.”

Thank God...

“I do have an idea, though... You'll have him as your teacher.”

“What do you mean?”

“Learn his techniques for racing. Learn his manner of doing this or that. Understand him – become his confidant. If we can get as much information as possible... we might be able to make a slightly less insane clone of him.”

“... That's even more mental than the first idea.”

“Possibly. Being on my period doesn't help with being bipolar – I need to find a medicine to stop the effects of both. All my genius, and I haven't thought of doing that yet...”

“May I have your leave, then? To go... be with him?”

“Sure. But keep me updated. And if he does hurt you physically or in any way, like he did to me... let me know. A little lesson might help.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_23.jpg


“What a dive-bomb entering the last turn! The #2 is back up to 7th!”

Damn right it was amazing.

I moved to make a pass on the next driver. When he hit me to block me...


MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_24.jpg


“CONES! Just like van Druten at the Nurburgring!”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_25.jpg


“Ironic, he pegged the #2 signboard...”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_26.jpg


Up to 5th. Second place is now a possibility.

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_27.jpg


“Ooh, the red Miata has gone off, giving the number 2 Miata 4th place for free!”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_28.jpg


“You've got something to prove... I can see it. Go for it, Ricky.”

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_29.jpg


“Again? Jeez, that was fast...”

“And this time I'm doing it right.”

I had it in the bag. Second place to Mei Ling, and I could have been content. I just had to push the envelope, to show that I was the best here... That I tried to replicate my dive-bomb from the previous lap in the same turn.

And it didn't work when I dropped the left rear wheel off, locked the brakes up, and caromed off of Mei's Miata.


MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_30.jpg


MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_31.jpg


I blacked out when I hit the wall.

MazdaRacewayLagunaSeca_32.jpg


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Incredible. He has the guts and ability to come all the way down to the top – and then throw it all away. I think he might be better – taking a look at this – compared to the Yamamoto boy...

They're both good-looking. Might work out for a while. Even so... they would have to realize... I'm the real head behind the Wind Stars.


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Mr, uhh... Requiem, sir... a visitor.”

After... my little stunt... had played out... I had been thrown into a cell.
Not a prison cell – this was like a one-room apartment, with kitchenette, bed, bathroom, and TV – even though it didn't work, whether by design or by accident.

I had been sitting... just staring into space... and just thinking.

About what... I can't tell you. Not yet. Especially not breaking the fourth wall between actor and audience, even though I just did exactly that. Nay... these are difficult thoughts that only certain people understand.

And who can this be... probably the mind-warped-insane brown-haired demon.

Instead of her, a blond woman – the same one I had seen when in the 'science room'.


“Are you here to force me to impregnate you like how the woman from FEAR did in the second game, or is there another reason for your visit...”

“...No. I'm not here for that... the Rose tried to do that, but just decided not to.”

“... I'd kill you before I'd waste myself on someone...”

“I'm sure you would – I'll ignore the slight directed at me for now, and just say that I do understand your position.”

“Do you now... Have you been raised from the dead, where you were pleasantly in peace?”

“No... but I was also being forced into this by the Rose, just like you were.”

“...Not much of an understanding to me, but I think I can see past that...”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

My God... He's changed so much. Even though I'd never met him, all the accounts of his life... say he was the silent statue.

He's now more like the rhetorical cynic. And the eye's blood red countenance didn't help the matter.


“... I'm supposed to learn from you?”

“...Learn... what?”

“The Rose said... your driving techniques, the mental games you play with opponents...”

He stopped short, and sat down heavily. The eye also changed color... to a soft violet that bespoke sadness.

“...What I know is not learnable. It's inherited. The talent I have... I can explain how things are done, but unless you have the same natural ability I do... it's impossible to do as I can – or was – able to do.”

“Why are you sad over it?”

“No one understands, how it is... You are your own person, and that's unchangeable. Or, at least it was, until that twisted bastard began playing with the true science of life... I've been changed against my will. Do you know how that feels?”


“No... but I do know how having no individuality, no sense of being different than others... is.”


“I sense a Russian accent. And you seem quite young, possibly mid-twenties... is it a product of Communism, although it seems unlikely?”

“Appearance is a bit deceiving – I'm thirty-two. And no... it wasn't Communism. It was the genocidal wars that tore up Vietnam, Africa, and all the other places – I was born in a concentration camp. I don't even know who my father was. My mother was a missionary that had been captured.”

I feel like I'm letting my whole life story be spilled out onto the page, but... I don't think he'd tell a soul. Of anyone... he would know... how to keep secrets.

“So your father... was he Russian, or did the accent come from being raised in Russia?”

“It comes from being an ex-Spetsnaz member. I was taken by the Russian fanatics at the age of twelve – and trained from there.”

“... I do understand a bit. Tell me... how did your mother die?”

“...I don't know if she died or is still alive.”

“... Then we do have some things in common... I don't know the same about my own mother, and I was a product of a fanatic government program to make the best secret soldiers...

I felt a bit of an icy chill when he said that... because that's exactly how I had felt when I had said my bit. He does understand – that's why he's such a loose cannon. Unpredictable is the scope of the way he understands others...

Although... I did know that... the understanding... comes from the things he's been through. Far worse than anyone should have to experience in a single lifetime. It's a wonder he hasn't given up - and then I remember he did. Back in 2005. And again in 2010. And... now things just don't have meaning for him. He's become a slave...


Fin Chapter Seven


Remember:
~There are two Roses (codenamed.)
~Requiem's identity... is what you believe yourself. He's not truly defined as someone different from the rest of us. That being said, he can be any of 6 people... and three haven't appeared yet!
 
The story-line is feeling so complex! And I like Requiem's character, and I think "rhetorical cynic" is a perfect description. 👍
 
Minor notice - the next chapter has been delayed due to issues, namely I feel it needs a re-write. It was like a sloppy patch job to please the public, and I don't want that.

Initial D (watching it all over again) is also a hindrance.
 
Don't think I've forgotten my loyal fans (Helloooooooooooo.... Where ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU) just that life, specifically the Christmas season, has been whacking me upside the head with a rusty barrel.
 
Chapter Eight: Paging Dr. Jonas Blair

“Where... am I?”

“The Laguna Seca hospital. Can't you tell?”

“Miyu?”

“Who else? Everyone thought you'd died when you hit the wall. It was a bit of a shock when you were airlifted to the hospital.”

“Airlifted?”

“You were unconscious when they got to you. You have a severe concussion and a broken arm."

Oh God. Not another hospital stay.

“What else happened?”

“Uhmmm... I won the race, and Andrew finished second after you wrecked.”

Well, 🤬. There goes my ill-fated attempt at stardom...

“And...”

“And what

“You got voted through.”

“I crashed, though...”

“That didn't seem to matter to the fans. I think you also got some sympathy votes as well...”

Eew. Not something I want to be known for.

“When does the next part come up?”

“When the countries and regions are finished with their own versions of this. In fact... the Japanese one is going on right now. Want to watch it?”

“Sure... gotta do something to take my mind off past experiences in hospitals.”

She flipped the TV on, and got to the correct channel. I think it was Speed or Eurosport?

TwinRingMotegiEastCourse.jpg


“Integras?”

“Yeah.”

Yuck... I prefer a rear-wheel-drive car, but those things... They look like freaking ricebuckets.

TwinRingMotegiEastCourse_1.jpg


“Crashing already? Sad...”

TwinRingMotegiEastCourse_2.jpg


“He managed to recover well enough...”

I ignored it afterwards, and my focus drifted onto Miyu. I really hadn't had the chance to see her in a non-competitior light before, and... Damn. She was a babe.

Ideal woman, from just her looks. But, looks are deceiving. Personality would matter more to me, if I were ever even interested in a relationship.

I also remembered my old man saying something before he died... something like;

"Son, remember; A woman might find a man in a whole boatload of a mess of a life, try to help him out, and fall in love with him in the process."

Which... I don't think I need – or want.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Location: Gion, Kyoto
Time: 8:00 PM

“You really think that this guy can help me become a better racer than you can?”

“...Anything is possible. Just not for me anymore. And the goal your boss wants is to learn the techniques and tricks I know. I'm not divulging this information. There are three other drivers who I formed a team with. That is, if they're still alive.”

“... You really are a miserable son of a barrel, aren't you?”

“Again, I pose the question to you; Would you enjoy being kept in a state in between the living world and the deceased one?”

“...You make it sound like there is actually another world beyond death. How can you prove this?”

“...I've been in both. If you ever get revived, you'll understand the feeling.”

Interesting woman. So alike to my flames of the past, yet... so strikingly different. She has the mind of a compassionate one – and compassion brings with it a whole host of unwanted things. The only emotion that dictates my life at the moment is a sense of needing to 'finish' my uncompleted tasks in life. I may not know them at this time and place, but the way will be shown. From my experiences... it will be done.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Oh, God. Who's bugging me at this time of night...”

I made my way down the stairs and into the front room. I took a look through the peephole in the door, saying; “Who are you, and what do you want at this god-forsaken hour?”

Or, that's at least what I tried to say. What came out was something like; “Who are you, and what do you wa... Holy 🤬... Oh my God...”

“I'm not a ghost, if you want to know. Would you let me enter your establishment? The rain's stinging my face.”

I fumbled for the doorknob and locks, thinking to myself that this is just a vision.

This can't be real.

This is not happening!


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“...Shocked, are we?”

“...You died. This isn't real.”

“Takuya – Liquid – I can assure you, I'm real, alive, and living and breathing once more.”

“Either someone's done a very good job on making a look-alike, and this is all a joke, or I'm having a nightmare.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Take my hand in yours, and see the truth in my eyes – including the mechanical one.”

I grasped his hand – and felt the pulse of life. The beat of the heart, the heat in the flesh.

Only then did I finally realize... that this isn't a joke.


“I believe you... The question is, HOW?! YOU DIED!”

“Ever heard of an organization called the Wind Stars?”

“...Sadly. They got pushy in quite a few street races with my younger cousin, and he asked me for my help. I gave it to him, and supposedly earned their enmity.”

“I'll tell them to lay off. The girl here is a member of that street racing core you went up against... am I correct?”

“What did you drive? I don't remember seeing your face...”

“A Skyline GT-R. Yellow and black, racing modified.”

“... I remember it. You didn't race – you stayed in your car, and were just an observer.”

“Correct. And... what were you driving? I don't recall seeing you ever, either.”


“A black Toyota Supra, third generation. With blue wheels.”

“Oh. You're THAT guy.”

“The silent man who ripped through your team, yes.”

“And the one who put a bullet in our top driver's foot afterwards.”

“You wouldn't understand why I did what I did, or do what I do.”

“Actually... I thought the guy was a stuck-up brat, and deserved it.”

“Odd to hear.”

He shot me a look, thinking what kind of woman have I got 'for him' now. Damn bachelor. Doesn't love anyone. Doesn't care for anyone or anything but his Supra.

The reason he was also an excellent driver. And the reason I formed up a team with him. I wanted men with no attachments – even though I myself had far too many. We were racing purists, nothing more. Nothing less.


“She isn't all bad, Fujimoto.”

“...Time will tell me that... So.”

“So... what?”

“Now that you're alive again, what do you want from me, if you really aren't a nightmare or ghost?”

“... Remember what I taught you and the others?”

“Far too much of it. Why do you need that?”

“She needs to learn it.”

“Why? What for? That's considered classified information – you said that yourself!”

“...Ever been trapped by a fate that loves to ruin everything when it's all supposed to be said and done? And when you are hog-tied to something inherently evil, even if the one you're in contact with isn't?”

“... Yes. And it's in a way I hadn't ever told you, either. Remember the old Skyline GT-R I had?”

“The Kenmeri one.”

“Yes... Well, I gave it to a... love... who loved it as much as I did.”

“As much as I find that you being the loving type is fictional, I know you can't lie. Continue.”

“...You know me far too well, you damn 🤬. Alright... It was about two years ago, about five months after you had disbanded the team.”

“The one that I had loved – Lily was her name. Lily Amatseru.”

He began to pace the room, agitated... at finally revealing something.

“I gave her the car – she also had a Hakosuka GT-R as well. She loved it almost as much as I did.”

“Not two weeks after she had had it, she called me to come meet her later that day at 10:00 PM. At a restaurant.”

“I showed up at the appointed time, and was waiting there for over an hour.”

“I noticed Skoliro – my nickname for the GT-R - pull up at around 11:30.”


ClubmanStageRoute5.jpg


(Note: Bold text is Takuya's words from the past.)

“I walked over, to find a gun pointed at my face as the door opened.”

“You must be... 'Liquid'.”

“Yes. I was. I'm done with racing now.”

“Well, I have one final race for you...”

He sidestepped, revealing Lily tied up in the back. Unconscious, and bleeding from a head injury.

“Race me. Downhill on Mt. Haruna. Your best versus me and this thing. Plus your little slut friend.”

“... Who are you?”

“Her husband.”

“At the look of shock, that came over my face, he laughed – a cold, chilling high laugh – and began to drive off.”

“You coming to save your love – or should I say, loves?”

I dashed off to the Supra and headed out, chasing Skoliro and her driver.

I got to the top, and pulled up alongside him.

“Ready? Your bitch and your car if you win, and I have you dead if I win.”


“...I drove my heart out that night. Knowing two of the most important things in my life at the time were in danger – I drove better than I ever had that night.”

“...What happened?”

“Something... came over me when I had won and we were at the end. I pulled out the gun I had in the glove box... shot him with a full clip... reloaded... and was about to shoot him again when Lily woke up.

Seeing what I had done, she began to berate me, hit me and yell at me for killing her love.

“So... you never truly loved me, did you? You just wanted the car to complete your collection...”

Her eyes blazed with hurt and anger, and she was about to say more when...

“I don't think I need you anymore. And you surely don't need me.”


I hit her across the face with all my might, and as she fell back into the backseat, still conscious – she showed signs of fear in her face.

“Then what?”

“... I hit her spinal cord below the belly, paralyzing her from the waist down. Then... I pushed the car toward the cliff.

What strength and awareness she had left shone on her face like the bright morning dew – and as I reached the cliff and prepared to hit the gas to send the car over – I hesitated.

I knew that this night had shaped my life forever, and... what would this decision lead to, the one I was about to make?

What ends were I at?

What was I possessed by, to do what I was doing?

What madness was I under?

And what, by the grace of God... was my decision?"


Fin Chapter Eight
 
Is there a particular reason why that girl is called Miyu? ;)
 
Next chapter will be delayed because I want to enjoy my Christmas, dammit.

Hope you all have a Merry Christmas yourself, and if I'm not being politically correct, Happy Holidays.
 
Chapter Nine: Burning My Soul

Location: Gion, Kyoto.
Time: 11:34 PM


“...And that's why... I've become the way I am.”


...My own anecdote is similar to the path his has taken. What a tortured man. And the striking similarities – I wonder if Dreamy Ghost and Shadow Eyes will be the same way – their lives altered by a tragedy.

“... Tak... I know how you feel. I truly do.”

“...That does mean a lot to me, even though I'm supposedly emotionless. We all were supposed to be.”

“Emotions... do help sometimes. They can be a distraction, as I've explained to you when combined with racing – but they sometimes do have their benefits.”

“Since the last goodbye...”

“...It's all the wrong ways, right...”

“You still remember. Even after all these years...”

“I never forget the Alan Parsons Project. Or Dream Theater. Or Anathema. Or-”

“Oh boy. If you don't stop now, you won't ever until you name ever single band or artist you have on your iPod...”

“Music shapes us if we allow it to, much like the flow of racing.”

“I admit... I'm convinced. She does understand more than I thought. What would you have me do, though?”

“... Show her the tricks of the trade that I've taught you.”

“Alright. And... hey... where are you off to now?”

“I need to catch the other two. Dreamy Ghost and Shadow Eyes.”

“What about her?”

“...I do have a name, you know...”

“Then let me know it.”

“You can call me Rose Rain.”

“Your real name. A racing handle isn't right for life, even though some people are known by just that alone.”

“...Fine. Rosalina.”

“No last name?”

“I didn't know my parents, and I have no relatives as far as I've managed to research and find out. I'm a no-name in this world.”

“... Your cynic personality you had sometimes before is rubbing off on her.”

“Damn right it is.”

“And you do know that that's a bad thing, right?”

“... Yes.”

“Then...”

“Some things are better left unspoken, like your story. It shouldn't have needed happen, but now that I know it... I do understand you more. And I wish that I didn't.”

“... So you'll be contacting me soon, I assume.”

“Never assume, although you are correct. Come. It's getting late, and the Stars will be flipping out if we don't get back to the Japan base before midnight.”

“...Alright.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It seems like that everyone Requiem has had a past association or relationship with... has a large amount of dark secrets hidden away in their memories. That being said, I'm sitting next to the king of that definition I just gave.

“So... what's your honest opinion of Takuya, or Liquid?”

“He seems a lot like you... a lot of past hurts all bottled up inside. It pains me to see when people keep that all hidden away, never to be told.”

“... I understand what you mean, even though I admit it is true even while taking no pleasure in the fact. Like I have said... you have the mind of one who cares for others... is that true, though?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don't seem to care for anyone – you dislike almost everyone in the Wind Stars, and loathe the other Rose...”

“How can you be asking me that, when I told you a lot of my life story before?”

“Understanding for others breeds empathy. Something you should try to avoid for all but the ones closest to you.”

“...That's like saying you're willing to kill everyone except for your immediate family.”

“And such is the life of a racer. We're bred to want to have a desire to beat others at all costs. And I have seen the exact way you described my statement before. It's not pretty, when something takes precedence over common sense.”

“You seem like you're contradicting yourself so much...”

“The cynicism in the new me, coming to light.”

I was silent for a time, and soon asked;

“Who are the other people you're in contact with, and why can't you tell me what your 'trade secrets' are? I still don't understand you...”

“Good. It means I'm still fulfilling my job.”

“...You're a 🤬.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“There's a reason I can't tell you. I can ask you a question to see if you can understand what I'm getting at. What is the most powerful and useful tool a person can have?”

She thought that over for a while, and eventually responded;

“Determination.”

“No. A fairly good guess, but not the right answer. Again, what is the most powerful and useful tool a person can have?”

“Ability?”

“Again, no. The correct answer here is logic, or how a person sees the world around them.”

“Yes, but isn't logic without moral direction incredibly dangerous and bad?”

“You misunderstand me. I asked what the most useful tool a person can have. A person can view the world as needing change – and because of his logic, change it to the ideal he desires.

Another example – do you truly believe that the Wind Stars are an evil organization with no compassion for human life?”

She looked at me, shocked to the core.

“How can you say that? You yourself are a product of their evil...”

“Yet, by opposing them... wouldn't you cause more pain and suffering than if you never bothered to lift a finger against them? Countless thousands could lie at your feet in a pool of neverending blood, and the stains of that resistance can haunt you forever.”

“...”

“I've upset you, I see.”

“Yes.”

“As can be expected. Since this was your first lesson, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. Even so... your assignment is to explain to me why opposing the Wind Stars is better than not lifting a finger against them.”

“...”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next day. 8 AM.
Location: The Tachibana Family House.


Creeeak...

“Hello? Anyone there?”

Weird. Usually the house is full of people – or at least Ryo. Today... it's not.

I moved to the kitchen counter to find a note Mrs. Tachibana had left for me.

“Kenji;

I'm taking the family out for a ride to the countryside. Didn't want to bother you after your win, so just wanted to let you sleep for a change.

Hope you enjoy the rest of the day with some peace, finally.”


Well... At least I have peace and quiet. Time to study to find out what the next part of the Academy thing is.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Time: 9:30 AM

Rosalina walked into the briefing room, still looking a bit tired from last night's events. And probably still upset about my question I posed to her last night.

The Japan arm of the Wind Stars relied on briefing meetings to inform the team what was actually going on. Everyone looked at me like I was a ghost when I walked into the room, and when Rosalina sat down next to me their eyes widened even more.

“Alright... What's the first item of business?”

“Well... The Veracity organization is beginning to actively attempt to remove us from Japan. We're planning to strike back...”

“How?”

“Well... Here's what we're going to do...”

Fin Chapter Nine
 
ALAN PARSONS PROJECT! :bowdown: Sorry, that's what I got most from this chapter. :P Also, am I supposed to be getting confused and losing track of all of these characters? Because I am...but I suspect that's my fault, not yours. The chapters are still excellent, this one included. 👍
 
You'll see. Next chapter has the disappearance of three of the characters.

And good, APP is something to get out of this.
 
Chapter Ten: Sanctity (Of Human Life)

Author's Note: This is a highly controversial chapter, with some very questionable things going on in it. If you aren't willing to deal with it, then skip this chapter. You'll learn quite enough about it later.

Even though you don't generally read these anyway, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MY CONSICIENCE IS CLEAR AND I FEEL NO REMORSE.


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Location: Streets of Tokyo
Time: 10:00 PM

“Care to explain why we're here?”

“Ah, a question that has vexed countless men over the centuries... and it's not what you mean?”

“Yes. Wait, I mean no... Oh, forget it.”

“We're here, in the street, because I'm teaching a very important lesson tonight. You'll figure out the answer to the problem I posed to you before.”

“Which I have no idea how to answer.”

“As it should be.”

Rosalina was silent for a while, and soon enough she asked;

“Who or what are we staking out?”

“Three people, four if you count a child.”

“And they are...?”

“Emily Rostock and her daughter Yune, David Alexander, and a man known only as the Origami Killer.”

“...Wait... are we preventing a murder here?”

“No.”

“Then... we're letting someone kill people?”

“'Killer' is not the term as it may seem to be. Killer in this case means an ender. But not of human life. He's a detective and lawyer.”

“...You're confusing me.”

“Take the scope off of the PSG-1 and watch that building. You'll see.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Mrs. Rostock... You're telling me that you think your former husband's death was arranged by his enemies?”

“Yes. With the help of my fiance, we broke into the coroner's special report, intended for the eyes of people who were known to be trustworthy and loyal to my husband. It appeared to have been altered.”

“Altered, as in changed to hide something?”

“We believe so. Some of the details don't match up, like the identifying features that he had. The tattoo was missing from his left arm, and there was a scar on his chest where he had been shot and surgically repaired.”

“So he could have lived, but it was covered up.”

“The police report noted that there were tire tracks leading from the crashed car away from the scene.”

“There also was another note – that the car that John was driving – had pure racing slicks on it, was being used in the rain, and had a huge amount of blood spread throughout it. At least, that's what the traces they found on the chassis said – before THAT was stolen.”

“Very interesting. All this adds up to something suspicious, but there are a few things that also need to be checked out.

Have you ever been back to your deceased husband's home in Yosemite?”

“No, we've never looked there.”

“I have myself. Everything's gone, it's all been stripped, all the cars are gone...”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“How can we hear that?”

“Microphone system. Paid a worker there to install it. Didn't know who I was, so it's all good. The loyalty of so many people can be bought easily...”

“You sound a bit resentful and bitter there.”

“Certain events in the past led me to believe that people are easily betrayed. Human nature overrides all sense of loyalty sometimes.”

He reached over to grab the PSG-1, and took the scope from my hand.

“And human nature is something that can only be changed through willpower and assistance. Divine assistance, if you understand that concept as well.”

“What ARE you getting at...? No. You can't be...”

He clipped the scope back on, and slowly took aim. I was too paralyzed with fear to do anything to stop him.

“Ever read about Hercules? He was an illegitimate child of Zeus. Zeus's wife Hera was angry at Zeus and cursed Hercules in many different ways, performing twelve labors to atone for things he did not do of his own free will.

Sometimes... you need to follow orders blindly, turning your sense of morality off just to get the task completed. And you know that I'm forced to obey. I was promised freedom if I complete the tasks in front of me, but how can I ever be free knowing what I did was damning to myself, an inescapable path I was forced to take? The end can't even set me free anymore.

Imagine someone tossing a key from his right hand to his left. He's forcing you to choose a path. And, pray tell...”

He took careful aim...

“What would be...”

His breathing slowed, and his finger tightened on the trigger...

“The way you chose?”

BANG.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“So... let's see what we can do. We can-”

PUFF.

The man known as the Origami Killer looked down at the dark red stain slowly spreading across his white shirt, and then crumpled to the ground.

“Oh my God... David... do something!”

“He got... me... too, Em....”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next day.
Location: Wind Stars Japan Base.
Time: 8:00 AM

“Before we go in... take this.”

Still in my shock from last night's events, I didn't realize I was even alive. When he handed it to me...

“A breathing membrane?”

“You'll need it. Just be patient and see.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;

“So... you completed the task without any issues. No witnesses. No nothing. The perfect crime.”

“Excellent work, Requiem. Now... we have another-”

“May I ask a question before we continue, gentlemen.”

They all stopped and waited for me.

“Tell me... how you think that the task I accomplished was the 'perfect crime'.”

“You did as perfectly ordered. Why do you question us?”

“...Have you not ever stopped to think... that killing... is never perfect? You're ending someone's life when you kill another human being. Don't you ever feel any remorse for your actions in this life?

Don't you ever think what you're doing is wrong? I'm sure as anyone that if there is a Heaven and a Hell and One True God... I'll be rotting in eternal damnation. And what about yourselves? I know you're not angels... So I'll see you there with me.”

“You've gone too far, just because you're a famous name doesn't me-URK!”

His hand had shot our, fastening around the man's neck with a iron grip...

“Tell me why... you have the right... to order me around... when you can't see truth staring you in the face.”

He flung the man against the wall, and pulled out a metal box with a button on it. He nodded at me, and I hurriedly grabbed the mask and put it on as he was doing the same.

“I think... it's time this party dissapears.”

And with that, he hit the button, sending a poisonous gas out of the air vents in the room – and I think the entire building.

He watched the men choke and gasp like it was a form of entertainment.

“You're... enjoying this? You're a sick b:censored:d....”

“Not enjoying... just understanding the decisions I make and how they shape the world as we know it. Do you finally understand the question I posed to you?”

“...Not quite. I think it's something that the world will be even more of a battlefield than if we resist...”

“Close. You may kill countless thousands. You may run an empire. But... you are ultimately judged by your decisions on the road we know as life. Those decisions will stick with you forever, and you will never forget them.

My decisions stick with me just as much as the next man in the world. I don't judge myself on a higher standard than the rest of the world – I'd rather be the homeless man living in a box or under a bridge than be in this life.

I have many past sins. There are many roads to repayment, to penance. But... the only way I can think of... to do this set before me... is to bring back the life that the people once had.”

“You can't bring back the past as it once was, and especially not for you.”

“It was never meant for me, never meant to be. I feel I owe the world a debt, and come hell or high water, I'm going to pay it off, even in my own blood if needed.”

“... You're a man with a conscience. The most dangerous kind in this world...”

“I will answer to no one but my own conscience. Now...”

“...”

“I'm sorry it has to come to this. But... I don't want you to be involved.

All of this, it was just a lie. All to get free so I can finish the job.”

“But... the stories, the techniques, all that... Even Shingo?”

“Shingo's story is quite real. He's just a very good actor. And what are things that cannot be truly taught? The only thing I could teach you... was to never sink to my level. Never emulate me. Never want to be the person I am or was. It just leads to a life of endless sadness and misery.

But please... just remember... I spared your life when I had countless times to erase it. And... as much as I don't like to admit it... I love you.”

And with that, he grabbed a chair and whacked me across the head. As the blackness came upon me... I stared with my fading eyes into the enigma of a face that was before me.

I expected to see anger, hate, and all the bad things – but what I saw shocked me, as knowing him had always done. I could see...

The fire, burning in his eyes, signifying the hardships to come;
The lines in his face, the deep sadness every crevice was showing;
The facial expression, one of such a deep and overwhelming pain like none other;
And... the mouth. With the breath of love on his lips – a love he would never show again.

I realized... I had come to love him. The man – not his deeds, not his accomplishments. For underneath the cynical air and reborn self lurked the same intelligence and all of the sadness... that had plagued his life for so long. I truly could see myself with the man, for I felt like I finally understood him and what he was trying to teach me about – that he was preparing me for the true meanings of life.

My final thought as darkness descended upon me was...


“I do truly love you..."

Fin Chapter Ten
 
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Maybe I need to learn not to post a new chapter when I take a muscle relaxant for my injured shoulder. I posted the wrong one - this was the 12th, not the 10th. I'll make it work, though...

:::::::::::::::::

I'm in the middle of rewriting the first volume for better story clarity - I already rewrote the first chapter of that, and am working on the second one as I type this. Might take a bit, but it'll make everything a lot easier to understand. I do see that I drifted slightly off of the plot line, and I'm sorry for that, which is why I am rewriting them all.
 
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That's quite a project. I'm still a bit confused myself, but the writing is so good that I don't really care. :P
 
Getting back to business (and story coherence) with the next chapter, which will be released later today (12:06 AM here).

Anyone know what's up with Photobucket taking forever to upload pictures, by any chance?
 
Chapter Eleven: Back to Coherence

Location: The Nurburgring, Germany
Time: 6:45 AM


Yaaaaawn. Damn, long night. Can't get any sleep, especially with all the energy and history at this place. Back when I was... being a lazy bum and getting Sanaki pregnant, I remember watching a video of Niki Lauda's 1976 crash here. It was the main reason the Formula One heads decided never to come back to the full version.

But the 24 Hours of Nurburgring has become one of the top races to drive in, especially in recent years. I'm here only to drive in the Academy events, though, and I don't think we're going to be running the full track – just the GP circuit, which is fully modern and not like the old 12-mile long “Green Hell.”

There are twelve drivers remaining, counting myself. None had driven as fast or as well as I myself had done in the Japan event at Twin Ring Motegi – and one guy had only made it though because the fans voted for him!


“Stupid decision. The field should be based on talent and not a fanbase.”

Dammit, said that out loud, but I don't think anyone heard me. Apparently... the guy who had made it through by the fan vote was actually a former friend of John van Druten's, and that rumor was a bit hard to believe. All he really did was sit and stare off into space, or he was talking to the Chinese chick and the redneck Southerner.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“You heard what he just said?”

“No... and I really don't care. I'm here to race, not to play silly little insult games with other drivers.”

“Good attitude there. That's what you need to have, Ricky.”

Some of the other drivers here come from privileged backgrounds. They had the money to go racing in the first place, and had instructors teach them how to drive. The ones that are of that class... are people who think the world should be handed to them on a silver platter. And I'm sure the Japanese guy is the same way.

“Alright everyone, could you please gather around... Good.

Today, we've planned something special. You are going to be driving on the hallowed Nurburgring – but, due to safety concerns – the only section we'll be driving on is the Grand Prix layout. Sorry if any of you were thinking we'd get to use the full version – you can use your own cars for that.

We're also going to have you all driving a German car. Can anyone guess what it is?”


“Mercedes AMG?”

“Nope. Not a BMW, either.”

“Audi R8?”

“If we had the money to let you drive them, sure. We don't. You'll be running... Golf GTI's. The A4 chassis.”

“...Yuck. Why not something rear-wheel drive?”

“They were cheap, safe, and efficient. All complains can be lodged with VW's representatives here. Now... Because there are twelve of you left, we're not driving the full set. This time, it's set up to be more of a competition. First... you'll compete for the best lap time. Then, the fastest four drivers get to move straight on to the third round.

Round 2 is the other 8 drivers go head-to-head in a five lap battle on the “D” track layout version. This is the shorter version, and is only going to consist of three laps.

The top four drivers from that race will then move on to the third round. The same rules apply as in the second, but the full “F” version of the track layout will be used. The order in each rounds is determined by reverse order – that is, the 4th place driver of the second heat will start first, then the 3rd, and so on. The driver with the best laptime will start last on the grid. Everyone understand?”


There was a general murmur of agreement, even though a few people had skeptical looks shining in full light on their faces.
Which meant... either they don't care for the car, or for the track.


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Any particular way you'd like the car set up, Mr. Yamamoto?”

“Not really... I'd like the shock absorber rate increased, and the toe at negative 0.05.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“Track conditions is the only real reason. Call it a hunch.”

Not bad. The mechanics here in Germany are a lot better than the ones in Japan, speaking from personal experience. While the ones on my dad's team were nice and all, quite a few were just college dropouts who needed to have exact instruction given to them in as easily interpretable as possible. That wasn't a bad thing, but it consumed a lot more time than was available.
These guys, though... They move with near-perfect efficiency, speed, and skill.


I looked over the black Volkswagen Golf GTI '01 that had been chosen for me. The car was only making around 160-180 horses, and when compared to the Integra I had driven at Motegi it is a lot weaker, but... I learned that power in an FF means a lot less than how the suspension and tyres are set up. More power will give you more understeer, and the Integra had a problem with understeer. A big one, actually. Three people crashed due to the understeer, and one was seriously hurt because of it.

Was a whole mess. But this little thing... It's not a bad car, not at all. I think I'm going to enjoy this one...


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Ah...Atchoo!”

“Bless you.”

“Damn allergies, always show up this time of year. Unavoidable, even in Germany.”

Well... After some trepidation, I finally made my way down to the pit to see the car that was chosen for me. The Japanese guy had already set his assigned crew to work getting the car geared up for the pre-event practices, and I was told I should start doing the same. Thing is... he didn't even go out on the track. What a cheap way to intimidate me and everyone else.

Andrew and Mei had already gotten their assignments, and they weren't scheduled to practice at the same time as I was. Due to the crew limitations and number of teams, the organizers had restricted the number of cars on the track for the time being to six.


I had gotten an orange-colored Golf. Why orange? I really didn't know. It stood out, but a lot more than the Mazda I had driven at Laguna Seca.

Even though I truly did not care for FF cars... The thing was pretty nice.

“Need anything adjusted?”

“I really can't say until I get on the track. Once I do that, I can tell you what it needs.”

“Alright. Get out there and show us what you're made of.”


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

About half an hour later, while the practice is still going on;

(This is in Hong Kong, China, at the residence of Mr. Han Tzu.)

“Sir... you might want to take a look at this.”

“What is it?”

“It's a racing academy being held at the Nurbugring Circuit in Germany, Mr. Tzu.”

“...Fine. Put it on...”

NrburgringGP_F.jpg


NrburgringGP_F_1.jpg


“Not bad.”

“Our source inside this Academy tells me that this is an American with a past connection to our deceased friend, Mr. Druten. He was his former friend before he became a professional racer.”

His technique is one that I recognize – of a driver who is used to cars with the FR layout trying to cope with the FF layout that is being used there. He's struggling a bit, but is able to keep a decent pace.

NrburgringGP_F_2.jpg


“Has he told the crew to do any changes to the car?”

“No. The source has told me he's kept running without doing any changes. Quite odd, he seems to be having problems with the car, I wonder why he'd be doing this...”

NrburgringGP_F_3.jpg


Inventive. And also extraordinary. He has the ability to adapt very well – and he's focusing on changing his technique rather than taking the easy way out and adjusting the car. Very good job, Mr. Robledo. I'll need to keep an eye on you, if you ever become a threat...

Then a second car caught my attention.

NrburgringGP_D.jpg


“Who is this one?”

“Uhmmm... who's driving the black Golf right now... Ok... You sure?... Alright... thanks for the information.”

“Well...?”

“A man you might recognize. Kenji Yamamoto?”

“Oh, yes. The wide-eyed kid, looking up to Druten with complete admiration.”

NrburgringGP_D_1.jpg


Now I remember... he was at the funeral. Looking like the meaning in his life was missing. I had lost track of him, until now. Doesn't seem like much has changed...

NrburgringGP_D_2.jpg


“Our source also said that even before he had gotten in any practice in the car, he had asked the mechanics to make adjustments... That's a bit far-fetched to believe, and I think you'll agree...”

“No.”

“Hmmm?”

“He has some serious skills if he is able to judge how to set the car up by just setting foot in the pit lane. Only a few men have had that ability. Our late friend Mr. Druten was one of them. It's a ability that can be taught, but it requires far more years of practice than Mr. Druten had probably given the kid. I'm impressed – keep an eye on him, as well.”

NrburgringGP_D_3.jpg


NrburgringGP_D_4.jpg


Quite soon, however, he made way to the pit lane after only doing three laps overall.
He got out after entering the garage, and I caught a glimpse of his face as he removed his helmet.

What I saw... wasn't what I was expecting. His countenance showed a lot of his character – and how much it had changed. No more youthfulness was seen – only a harsh grip on reality as an adult and all the seriousness that that position comes with.

I wonder why he's become like that... Time to do a little detective work, I think. And eventually... he could become a future ally. Only Time will tell, though.


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The end of the day.

“Alright... it seems like you've all had time to get settled in with the cars. I hope everyone's enjoyed the weekend so far...”

General murmurs filled the room.

“And some of you have shown a real aptitude for the track and car, despite it being only a practice session. That being said, the fastest two drivers in today's practice were...”

Everyone hushed and paid close attention to the host.

“Mr. Ricky Robledo, from Dapplering, Wyoming, USA, with the second fastest time, and Mr. Kenji Yamamoto, of Shinigawa Prefecture, Japan.”

Polite applause broke out, and lasted about 20 seconds.

“Now... I hope everyone will get a good night's rest and be ready for tomorrow's racing. Guten nacht.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

2:00 AM, the next day:

Ugh. I'd never really had to deal with time differences before, and it's taking it's toll on me. Can't sleep a damn wink. I had thought of calling Sanaki to ask how she was doing, but... I couldn't make myself do it.

It just felt wrong. I mean, I loved her, but... I still have an odd fear of being a father. I can't explain it.

I slowly walked out of my room, and went to one of the balconies overlooking the track. At night... the stars shone brightly over my face, but the blackness that surrounded the bright twinkles...

Am I looking at a representation of evil in this world... or something else? I cannot tell.

I heard a noise from behind me, and I snapped around to see... Ricky Robledo.


“You're Kenji, right? What are you doing up so late?”

I turned away and leaned on the railing again.

“Can't sleep... it's the jetlag, or whatever you want to call it. And why are you up yourself?”

“I have the same issue, coming from America...”

He sounds resentful.

“You seem a bit... noncaring... for your homeland.”

“...People say that America is the land of opportunity. I wasted it, and now I'm trying to escape it.”

Odd. But not unexpected. I am comparatively young when you look at everyone else here, and people see that. They also see the man I'm turning into.

“You know... you did one heck of a job out there yesterday.”

“I really don't think I did that well...”

“Either you have a very modest disposition, or you have no idea how good you actually are. You managed to get within eight tenths-of-a-second of my time I set, and I was told you did it without changing the car's stock setup.”

“...I really don't see how I'm good at all...”

“...You did it using your technique and instincts. I guessed how the car needed to be set up, and I was right. It's something I'm trying to develop.”

“That's... incredible.”

“Not really, a good technique is something better to have than the ability to know how to gve yourself an advantage.”

“I think I get what you're saying.”

“And a word of advice... with these cars... the handbrake can be used quite well.”

“What do you...”

“Try it tomorrow, and you'll understand. Good luck, I'm heading back to bed.”

“...”

Fin Chapter Eleven
 
The brazilian is back, a bit confused with cientific part, keeping up good with the racing part.

Nice last few chapters, just came to read them.
 
Another great chapter, although I'm wondering why Kenji wants to drift in a Golf. :lol:
 

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