A Meeting in the Night
That night, the team had parked at a dimly lit rest area just past Corner A105 on Amakane Pass. Cold air drifted down from the treetops, sharp with pine and the acrid scent of hot rubber, fuel, and scorched clutch. The road was slick from a recent misting of rain—just enough to make every line treacherous. From where they sat, perched on a steel guardrail, the team had a front-row seat to the locals throwing down high-stakes drifts under cover of night.
Engines snarled through the darkness, headlights cutting spears of white across the curved wall of forest. Tires screamed as chassis pitched sideways into the brutal 90-degree left-hander. Each car attacked with animalistic precision—weight transfer sharp, transitions fluid, throttle inputs near-telepathic. The drifters moved as one with their machines. No room for hesitation. One twitch out of sync, and you'd kiss steel.
Beidou, Seele, Collei, and Pela sat shoulder to shoulder, legs dangling over the railing. The tension of competition hung in the air like static.
March stood leaning against her white JZA80 Supra, sipping canned coffee, but her eyes weren't on the road—they were on Collei.
"So... Collei," she said, stepping closer, her tone light but probing. "You've only driven Yougou Pass, right? What's your read on this place?"
Collei didn't answer immediately. Her boots tapped lightly against the guardrail, and her green eyes scanned the road ahead, dissecting every bump, gradient shift, and blind corner.
"I can't say for sure until I drive it myself," she murmured at last, voice low, eyes locked onto the line a black S15 had just carved through the corner. "But it's tight. Claustrophobic. Feels like the walls are closing in. Yougou's fast and flowing. This... this is something else."
Before March could answer, a low, bestial growl crept up from the valley below. A turbocharged Flat-4, unmistakable—growling through the revs, rising like a predator's snarl in the trees.
Seele snapped upright, her breath catching with anticipation. "There it is."
The blue GT86 crested the hill seconds later, its sleek silhouette haloed by the sodium lights. Gleaming, surgical, coiled with aggression. The moment it approached the 90-degree left-hander, the driver slammed the brakes, weight shifting forward, chassis compressing. In the blink of an eye, the rear end broke free—tail snapping out as if yanked by invisible hands.
A plume of tire smoke erupted, dense and angry, and the car held the slide—perfect angle, razor-sharp control. The rear tires clawed at the tarmac as the driver feathered the throttle with precision, countersteering just enough to hold the line. Not even a millisecond of correction wasted. Then, with mechanical poetry, the car transitioned—no handbrake, no hiccup. Just the weight shift and an inertia drift that carried it into the next apex without bleeding speed.
Pela gaped. "No fucking way. That was a full inertia drift—and they're still accelerating?!"
Beidou said nothing. Her arms were crossed, mouth curled into a wolfish grin, crimson eyes catching the glow of the tail lights. That drift hadn't been reckless. It had been surgical. Controlled violence.
"I think we've seen enough," she said at last, hopping off the rail. "Let's head back. I want to get a feel for this road myself."
The Night's Turn
Engines roared to life. The mountain air filled with the symphony of boosted turbos and high-revving NA screamers as the convoy pulled out—Beidou's R32 leading the charge, its wide tires hissing over the asphalt. The GT-R's deep baritone growl echoed off the cliff walls, a battle cry stitched with the whine of twin turbos coming on strong.
Inside the Supra, March watched the R32's pace increase. "Uh, is it just me, or did Beidou just floor it?"
Collei had both hands on the wheel, knuckles whitening. Her eyes stayed fixed on the vanishing tail lights ahead.
"She's pushing harder," she muttered, already feeling the strain. The GT-R danced on the limit—barely contained chaos.
Seele leaned forward between the seats, frowning. "That's not her usual rhythm. She's usually smooth—measured. Something's off."
The next moment proved her right.
The R32 hit third gear at the exit of a tight left-hander—turbo boost peaking just as Beidou rolled on the throttle too early. The boost surge hit like a hammer.
Whaaaaaa-CHOOO!
The rear end snapped. Tires broke loose. Beidou reacted instantly—countersteer, feather throttle—but the snap was too violent, too sudden. The R32 spun, front end swapping with rear in a blur of steel and smoke.
"SHIT!" March shouted, eyes wide as she slammed on the brakes.
The R32 skidded sideways, tires screeching, momentum dragging it across the road until it finally came to a jarring stop—inches from the Supra's front bumper. Steam hissed from the hood. Burnt rubber stung the air.
In the back seat, Seele exhaled hard. "Told you. That wasn't her groove."
Then—another sound cut through the stillness. Subtle. Mechanical. Flutter-flutter-tsssshh.
A turbo wastegate. Precise. Confident. Too confident.
Collei checked her mirrors. Headlights—two of them—cut through the black like knives. And gaining.
"They're back," she said quietly.
The GT86 coasted into view, its engine subdued now—idling with the calmness of a wolf full on its kill. The driver wasn't rushing. They were watching.
As it pulled alongside the stalled GT-R and Supra, the passenger-side window lowered with a soft motorized whirr.
A girl with dark auburn hair leaned out slightly, smiling with that same easy confidence as the car. "Someone pushed a little too hard," she said, her tone teasing—but not unkind.
The driver leaned forward—platinum blonde hair catching in the cabin light. "Let's make sure they're alright."
The passenger called out louder. "Hey! You all good? That looked like it could've been worse."
Beidou, still catching her breath, forced a crooked grin. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Punched the gas too soon. Turbo kicked in like a bastard. Got sloppy."
She turned to face the GT86 properly—just in time to lock eyes with the driver.
Her blood went cold.
"No fucking way... Eula!?"
The driver's reaction was instantaneous. Her face slackened in shock. "Beidou...?"
Inside the Supra, Collei blinked. A name echoed in her memory like a trigger: Amber.
Her breath caught. "Amber!?"
March looked confused. "Amber who?"
Collei was already opening the door, boots hitting pavement in slow, deliberate steps.
She walked up to the GT86, not quite believing what she was seeing. "Amber?" she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The passenger leaned forward, her amber eyes wide with disbelief. "Collei...?"
There it was—years of silence breaking like a dam. The weight of childhood promises, broken by time and distance. For a moment, the air between them was thicker than fog, charged with a thousand things left unsaid.
Amber's voice trembled. "I… I'm sorry we had to meet like this."
Collei didn't flinch. "So do I."
Amber looked down, fingers tightening around her seatbelt. In the driver's seat, Eula said nothing—she just reached for the shifter, put the GT86 into gear, and slowly rolled away, tires whispering against the asphalt.
No screech. No rev. Just a silent retreat—like a phantom vanishing into the trees.
Beidou was the first to move. Her GT-R's engine rumbled to life with a metallic snarl, twin turbos hissing as if exhaling the tension still clinging to the scene.
She didn't say a word as she pulled out to follow.
The night was far from over—and the past had just caught up.
The convoy rolled into a sleepy 24-hour convenience store nestled just before a major intersection—a washed-out relic glowing faintly under buzzing sodium lamps. The neon sign above the awning stuttered between green and off-green, casting a sickly halo across the cracked asphalt. A lone vending machine clunked out a can of Boss Coffee with a hollow rattle, the transaction barely noticed by the half-awake trucker leaning against the graffiti-tagged wall. He took a long drag from a cigarette, eyes half-lidded, world-weary.
The team parked in a loose semi-circle near the storefront, engine notes fading into soft metallic ticking as hoods cooled under the night air. Tire rubber hissed faintly as the blue GT86 coasted into the lot last, its headlights snapping off with a click. It glided into place near the entrance with the ease of something familiar—a car that moved like it belonged there.
Beidou was the first out. The R32's door creaked wide and slammed shut with a guttural THUNK, the sound ricocheting off the nearby guardrails and echoing into the night. Without a word, she stormed across the lot with hard strides, her boots thudding against concrete as she grabbed Eula by the wrist and yanked her aside.
They stopped just beneath one of the flickering streetlamps, its light buzzing low and erratic. The shadows it cast were long and restless, slicing across Eula's sharp features and Beidou's storm-heavy expression.
Beidou's grip loosened with a short exhale. She squared up in front of the taller woman, her shoulders taut, eyes burning. "Alright, Eula. Cut the shit. What's really going on with you? You seriously the fastest in Amakane, or was that just another bluff to pull some smoke over our eyes?"
Eula didn't flinch. Her pale blue gaze, glacier-sharp, held steady under the heat. "Yes. I am."
No tremble. No doubt.
Beidou laughed—a short, dry bark. She tilted her head back, jaw clenching, and exhaled through her nose like she was trying not to punch a wall. "Then why the hell didn't you lead with that? You know how much time we wasted fucking around?"
Eula's expression faltered for a split second—just enough to register. She clasped her hands behind her back in that usual composed posture, but her voice had a crack of real hesitation in it. "I don't know. Maybe I wasn't thinking clearly."
Beidou snorted and looked away, pacing a tight, angry loop. The way she moved—sharp turns, clipped steps—made it clear she hated wasting time more than losing. "You weren't thinking clearly, huh. Great. Just great."
Nearby, unnoticed by either of them, Collei eased out of the Supra. The car's door barely made a sound, and her movement was ghostlike, like a shadow slipping through the dark. She moved without urgency, like she belonged to the night.
Her eyes flicked toward the GT86—and to the passenger side, where Amber sat.
Amber caught the movement and opened the door. Her boots hit the pavement softly. Even beneath the artificial neon haze, she radiated warmth. That old confidence, that effortless command of a room—none of it had dulled with time.
Their eyes met.
The silence stretched. Years collapsed.
Amber was the same—sunfire in her eyes, that slight tilt of her head that always made Collei's heart beat one notch faster. And Collei? She couldn't hide the twitch of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She leaned back against the GT86, folding her arms across her chest, her stance casual but loose with energy.
"How've you been?" she asked, voice low, almost amused. "Feels like forever."
Amber smiled—one of those genuine, stupidly bright smiles that made the air feel warmer. "I've been great. Actually…" Her eyes sparkled. "I've been hearing a lot about you, Collei."
Collei's expression twitched into surprise. "Me?"
Amber stepped closer, just enough to close the space. "Oh yeah. Word travels fast, especially when it's about some mystery driver in an old Eight Six carving up Yougou's downhill like it's nothing."
Collei flushed instantly, her fingers brushing the back of her neck in that awkward, boyish way she never grew out of. "I… was just doing what I had to. It's not like I wanted to be noticed."
Amber laughed, a soft, melodic sound that cut clean through the night. "Still the same old you."
Collei chuckled sheepishly, shifting on her heels. "Yeah… maybe."
Amber's smile softened. She studied Collei—really looked at her this time. "You still look good. Just like the day we met."
Collei froze, blinking. A second passed. Then two. Her mouth opened—and nothing came out.
"O-Oh. Uh. Thanks?" she managed, voice cracking like glass under pressure.
Amber giggled, bumping her shoulder gently. "God, Collei. You haven't changed at all."
Collei shook her head, her smile a crooked mix of shy and stunned. "Still trying to catch up, honestly."
"Do you live around here now?" she asked, changing the subject before her brain short-circuited.
Amber grinned. "Moved back to Yougou two years ago."
Collei blinked. "Wait, moved back?"
Amber winked. "Yep. Back for good."
Collei's thoughts shorted for a moment—her heart skipping a beat she tried to ignore. "So… you and Eula—are you, uh…?"
Amber laughed again. "Nah. Just friends. Helped her dial in the suspension on her GT86. That thing was twitchy as hell before I cleaned it up."
Collei let out a small breath, her chuckle more of a sigh of relief. "Oh. Gotcha."
Amber narrowed her eyes teasingly. "You're so obvious, you know that?"
Collei looked away, flustered. "I'm trying to work on that…"
Back near the parked cars, Beidou and Eula were deep in the second half of their confrontation. The heat had cooled, but the stakes had sharpened.
Beidou crossed her arms again, her voice lower now. "Alright. Truth. What do you really want, Eula?"
Eula didn't hesitate this time. "I'm after the Eight Six."
Beidou's eyes narrowed. The words hit harder than expected. "You're serious."
"I am," Eula said. "And I want to step back after that. From the racing scene. All of it."
Beidou stared at her for a long beat, her jaw tight.
"I'm not chasing trophies or recognition," Eula continued. "Not anymore. I just want one thing: a proper run. Against someone real. Someone who doesn't care about clout."
Beidou's gaze softened, just a little. She could see it now—the weariness under Eula's cool surface. The quiet desperation of someone burned out by the spotlight they never asked for.
"You want that run to be your curtain call," Beidou muttered. "And you want it against the driver of the Eight Six. Here. On your turf."
Eula nodded once. "Yeah. That's what I want."
Beidou ran a hand through her hair, frustration melting into quiet acceptance. "You should've just told me that. I'd have set the whole thing up weeks ago."
Eula gave a rare, small smile, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry, Beidou."
Beidou studied her for a second longer, then clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Next time, just say what you mean. No games."
Eula's voice was soft. "I will. Thanks."
Inside the store, March, Seele, and Pela were still camped at the window, sipping vending machine drinks and eavesdropping on the heart-to-heart outside.
Seele leaned forward, watching Amber and Collei like a hawk. "Okay. There's definitely something going on there."
March folded her arms, nodding. "Childhood friends. Collei mentioned that earlier. But this? Feels like unfinished business."
Pela blushed, hard. She looked away and took a sip of her drink like it would erase what she just saw. "They make a cute couple."
March and Seele turned their heads in unison. Eyebrows. Raised.
Pela blinked, flustered. "What? Don't look at me like that! It's obvious!"
March grinned. "I mean… she's not wrong."
Seele smirked, her eyes drifting back to the parking lot. "Nope. Not wrong at all."
They watched in silence, that kind of shared silence where everyone knows what's not being said.
Outside, the night air was still and charged. Something unspoken hung between Amber and Collei—old sparks buried under years of silence and unasked questions.
The flickering glow from the store painted their shadows long and flickering, and somewhere in the background, a low bass thump spilled from a passing car on the highway.
Eula stepped away from the others, walking with slow, sure strides back to her GT86. The car waited for her under the crooked glow of the streetlight like a loyal hound. She paused beside it, her eyes drifting once more toward Amber.
"So, uh… we part ways here, right?" Her voice was softer now. Unsure.
Amber nodded, her smile laced with finality. "Yep. Been a pleasure."
They shook hands—firm, brief, but not cold. There was respect in it.
Eula climbed into the GT86, the door shutting with a crisp clunk. The flat-four boxer engine barked to life. Tail lights lit red, carving streaks in the dark as she pulled out onto the empty road and disappeared down a curve that swallowed her whole.
Amber and Collei stood side by side, saying nothing.
But they didn't have to.
The automatic doors hissed open with a muted whoosh, and Beidou stepped out into the crisp night air, boots crunching lightly on the concrete. The fluorescent glow of the convenience store buzzed behind her, but her focus was on the group loitering beneath the dull parking lot lights. She moved with her usual easy swagger, hands tucked into the pockets of her leather jacket, the wind teasing strands of her hair. Her eyes scanned the gathered crew with sharp intuition, a lopsided grin playing at her lips.
"So," she said, tone laced with curiosity and a trace of amusement, "what's this I hear about Amber?"
March turned to her, tilting her head slightly, that mischievous sparkle already dancing in her eyes. "We overheard a little bit," she said in a sing-song voice, brushing imaginary dust from her hoodie sleeve. "Apparently, Amber's been living in Yougou."
Beidou cocked a brow. "You don't say?" Her stance shifted subtly—curious now, more than amused.
Pela, still red in the ears from the earlier teasing, leaned in just enough to avoid Seele hearing her. "Collei and Amber go way back. Childhood kind of back."
That gave Beidou pause. Her grin faded into something more thoughtful as pieces began clicking into place. "Ah. That explains a lot."
She rolled her shoulders once, loose and relaxed, then sauntered over toward the pair standing apart from the group. The R32's keys jingled lightly in her palm.
Collei and Amber turned as she approached. Beidou offered them a grin—this one slow and knowing. "Hey, you two. Ready to head back?"
Collei nodded, exchanging a silent glance with Amber. "Yeah. Let's go."
With practiced ease, Beidou flipped the Skyline's keys into the air, catching them once. "Actually," she said, eyeing them both, "why don't you two take the R32 tonight? Consider it a reunion drive."
Collei blinked. "Wait—seriously?"
Beidou's smirk deepened. "Sure. Catch up. Talk. Take the long way if you want. I'll ride with March in her Supra. Besides, she promised to let me DJ." She winked at March, who groaned in mock horror.
The keys spun again. This time, Beidou let them fly. Collei reached out on instinct, snatching them cleanly from the air. Her eyes flicked from the keys to Beidou, then to Amber, the weight of the night finally settling on her in the form of excitement and something unspoken.
Amber bumped her shoulder playfully. "Guess we're taking the Skyline."
The group split up, engines coming to life one by one in the stillness. Headlights flared as they merged onto the expressway in formation, taillights streaking red across the asphalt. Tokyo's distant glow faded behind them, swallowed by the dark contours of forested mountains and the empty stretch of highway that lay ahead.
The Expressway — 10:30 PM
Inside March's Supra, the cabin was wrapped in low hums and gentle vibration. The 2JZ purred beneath the hood, a steady, controlled heartbeat that seemed to sync with the road itself. March drove one-handed, her arm perched casually at twelve o'clock, posture relaxed but alert. Streetlights blinked overhead, strobing through the windows like a slow-moving metronome. Behind them, the R32 followed at a steady distance, its twin turbos whispering through the cool night air.
Beidou leaned forward from the passenger seat, tapping March's shoulder with two fingers. "Hey. Real talk—what do you think about Collei and Amber?"
March flicked her eyes to the rearview, catching the silver glint of the Skyline trailing them. "Amber's good for her," she said. "Really good. You can see it. They've got that… history. That unspoken connection."
Beidou grunted, intrigued. "History, huh? Spill it. I like knowing what makes my team tick."
March smirked, easing into the rhythm of the drive. "Alright, but keep it down. Pela and Seele finally passed out."
Sure enough, in the backseat, Seele was slumped against the window, arms crossed and mouth slightly open. Pela, curled up with a jacket as a makeshift blanket, was sound asleep beside her.
Beidou lowered her voice. "Go on."
March's expression softened. "Collei used to be this really quiet, anxious kid. Barely talked. Wouldn't even look strangers in the eye. Used to stick to her dad like glue when they were out running errands."
Beidou nodded slowly, listening intently.
"Then Amber came along," March continued. "Bright-eyed, hyper, fearless. You know the type. She pulled Collei out of that shell, little by little. Dragged her into life whether she liked it or not. The kind of friend who doesn't ask permission to care about you."
Beidou chuckled low. "Sounds like she steamrolled her way into Collei's heart."
"Exactly," March said. "And now? Collei's grown into someone strong. She's not afraid of people anymore. But with Amber, she reverts a little. Not in a bad way. More like... it reminds her where she started. It's grounding."
Beidou glanced out at the R32 behind them. Her grin returned. "That explains why she looked like she'd been struck by lightning when Amber showed up earlier."
March laughed quietly. "Yup. Classic case of emotional whiplash."
Inside the R32
The cabin of the R32 was a cocoon of vibration and mechanical music. The RB26 hummed in third, sitting steady at around 4,000 RPM, turbo spooling just under boost threshold. The chassis felt tight, planted, responsive in Collei's hands—every flick of the wheel, every throttle input translated through the drivetrain like a language only a driver could hear.
Collei's hands rested at ten and two, thumbs hooked, her knuckles light on the wheel. She stared ahead, but her thoughts were knotted beside her.
"So…" she started, voice barely louder than the engine, "Amber?"
Amber turned her head, one arm draped casually over the passenger door, watching Collei instead of the road. "What's on your mind?"
Collei took a second to form the words. "Do you… have your own car? And do you race?"
Amber laughed, soft and unbothered. "Of course I do. I drive a blue Sileighty."
Collei blinked. "Sileighty?"
Amber grinned. "Nissan 180SX body. Silvia S13 front end. Hybrid build. Pretty common in the scene if you know where to look. Light, nimble, torque-friendly. Real weapon on the uphill."
"Oh!" Collei's eyes lit with realization. "That's… cool. Really cool. So you do race?"
Amber shot her a grin that leaned somewhere between playful and smug. "You bet your ass I do. Mostly uphills. Less risk, more fun. But I'll run downhills if I feel like showing off."
Collei glanced over, excitement bubbling in her voice. "Beidou's still looking for an uphill ace in Yougou. I should call her—!"
Before Amber could say a word, Collei yanked her phone from the center tray and thumbed the screen with practiced urgency. The phone rang once. Twice.
Then Beidou's voice cracked through the speaker, her tone unmistakably relaxed. "Yo, Collei. What's up?"
"Are we still looking for an uphill ace?" Collei asked, barely containing her grin.
Beidou paused. There was a faint crackle on the line.
"…Yeah," she said, cautiously intrigued. "Why?"
"I'm with Amber. She drives a blue Nissan Sileighty. Mostly races the uphill in Yougou."
Another pause. The background noise of wind and road spilled through the call. Then:
"A blue Sileighty?" Beidou's voice sharpened. "I've seen that thing. It's a fucking ghost car on the climbs. Whoever's behind the wheel doesn't lift for shit."
Amber leaned toward the mic, voice cool as ice. "That'd be me."
Silence. Then a bark of disbelief. "Amber!? Get the hell outta here!"
She laughed. "Surprise."
Beidou's excitement was instant. "You're serious? Hell yes! Join the team. We need someone like you for Yougou. I'm not even gonna pretend to play it cool."
Amber exchanged a glance with Collei, her voice warm. "I'd be honored."
On the other end of the line, Beidou whooped. "We've got ourselves an Uphill Ace!"
Amber snorted. "You're such a dork."
Collei grinned as she ended the call, her grip on the wheel firm but relaxed. "That's Beidou for you. All heart, zero chill."
Amber leaned back in the seat, arms folded behind her head, gaze drifting up to the stars. "Kinda refreshing, actually."
The road unspooled before them—an empty ribbon of midnight asphalt stretching toward the mountains. In that moment, under the wide-open sky, the skyline sang its metallic lullaby, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt exactly right.
They didn't know what the next corner held.
But they were going to meet it full throttle.