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The Light at the End of the Tunnel	By : kochan Category: +G to L > Initial D Views: 1255 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Initial D, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Light at the End of the Tunnel
- 1
Disclaimer/Copyright: More of a copyright notice than a disclaimer at this point really. The fic will introduce certain Initial D characters later. The plot and original characters in this story belong to me. Shigeno owns the rest. You know which ones are his. Rating will be PG for now due to adult themes and may shift up later (depending on how nasty I get ;) ).

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The Light at The End of The Tunnel

By Kochan

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The air rushes down through the intake with a rushing breath, accompanied just after by the whine of the turbo charger as it spools. But only for a moment as the characteristic growl of the horizontally opposed four cylinder takes over, building in pitch, in volume. It culminates in a loud 'Psssssssht!' that is the mating call of the engine, a sensual sigh of passion; excess air vented to atmosphere via the blow off valve as I slam the clutch pedal in. Slotting the short shifter a gear up, I throw the throttle open once more.

She rewards me by slamming my body back against the bucket seat, screaming harder and higher in passion as the tachometer climbs all the way to redline. Her raw scent is intoxicating; smoky transmission oil mixed with the sweet mountain air as I draw it in like an opium addict. Again I go through the motions as though in a drug-induced trance, loving the torque push, the exhilaration, the rush that fills me: a cycle I would almost desire to be never-ending�but for the corner ahead.

"Long sweeping left, 80, stay on the inside for the right hairpin straight after" comes the voice of the man beside me. Together we are a team, immortal gods conquering the mountain one curve at a time. His voice guides me just as though his own hand wepon pon mine ready to turn the wheel.

The silent countdown in my mind is second nature. The seat belt pulls tight at my shoulder as I pressure the brake pedal hard and slam the clutch in. Down a gear; my heel leans across to give the gas a solid blip. I pull the wheel right, then a full turn left as I lift off the clutch.

The rear tires squeal in their struggle to grip the asphalt and I floor the gas without flinching. My hands are fluid in counter-steer as I feather the accelerator after, gliding the car through the corner. Always, I keep a trained ear on the high pitched whine that is characteristic of this car.

"Bit close to the inside Makoto," mumbles my co-driver.

I smile, knowing it's a little close for him�but not I. Nevertheless, I let off the gas a touch to give us another few inches from the wall.

"On the straight, hairpin coming up fast in 30!"

I feed in a more throttle and feel the tires begin to grip again, slowing the slide, pressuring the suspension on one side. The Limited Slip Differential on the rear is working hard, laboring to keep both wheels pushing forward even as they drift.

Again the silent countdown and I give the brake pedal a firm step, swinging the wheel about to full opposite lock. The pressuring of the suspension acts like a rubber band, springing the weight of the car forwards and across to the other side with the agility of a ballet dancer. The rear winds about in obedience and I steer us through the tight corner, turning what would be considered an out of control slide by most into a silky smooth hairpin drift.

"Whoa�whoa�.we're awfully close to that rail."

And so we should be�just how I like it. The grin on my face has already set. The high pitched whine tells me I'm almost cleared of the hairpin and I pressure down the pedal, feeling power build in the rear.

"All clear ahead, let's go!"

I'm one step ahead of him, my foot flush against the firewall with the accelerator trapped in between. The drift ends with a power slide, sensors screeching as the car streaks into the straight, inches from the rock face on our left. The Tacho needle climbs to redline, and again with a loud 'Psssssssht!' I shift up to third with the sledge-hammer like torque slamming into my back.

Two corners�we've only just begun�

* * * *

My hometown Karuizawa, perhaps one of the most popular summer resorts in these mountains. But the streets are quiet now with the families asleep in their beds and tourists watering themselves with beer and sake at their lodges. I cruise through as quietly as is possible with a three-inch turbo back exhaust, wincing as I hear the dogs howling their disapproval.

The proximity sensor whines once more as I pull into the driveway of my home. A moment to listen into the signature booble of the engine resonating off the sidewalls before I cut the ignition. It idles to silence, and all that is left is the sound of cooling metal and oil.

"Makoto. Fine in there?"

I fumble my way out of the garage and towards his voice. "Yeah. I think she's idling a little high. I'll have to take her to Shige's tomorrow." Tsuyoshi's pacing, walking off the adrenalin. He's the only one who doesn't doubt my ability to drive, let alone drift.

We embrace, and I squeeze just a touch to show my appreciation, "Thanks for coming with me, Tsu. It means a lot."

"Heh, it's alright. When you plummet off the side of the cliff�I'll be right there beside you." There's a touch of uneasiness in his voice, but it's masked by the laughter we share.

We whisper our goodbyes and I walk towards the door of my home, looking forward to a good night of rest.

"Oi Makoto..
- 1
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The Light at the End of the Tunnel