Junsei Arata hated cars . Not just the noisy ones that roared past on the streets or the flashy racing machines that streaked through the city at night . He hated them because they are death made metal . Every engine's roar reminded him of the night his father never came home , the night when the GOD TRIAL RACE ( GTR ) , had claimed a man who had loved speed as much as he lived his family .
Junsei was seventeen now , but he still remembered that night like it was yesterday. He had been eight , hiding under the table in their tiny apartment above his father's garage , trembling as the distant cheer of the crowd and the whine of turbochargers reached his ears . He had learned then that speed was not -
Freedom.
It was dangers and it was cruel .
So he avoided cars and he avoided streets where engines revved late at night . He avioded friend who talked about horsepower and drifting like it was a form of worshipping .
And , most of all , be avioded thinking about his father .
" Junsei , can you bring the shipment upstairs? "
His mother's voice was gentle and firm ,pulling him out of his thoughts as he lingered at the edge of their tiny shop .
Hana Arata had been running the store ever since Junsei's father died . She was strong, tirelessly working to keep their small convenience shop alive ,but there was a weariness in her eyes that made Junsei ache .
She was thirty one now but worry etched into her face made her seem older .
" Coming " he mumbled ,lifting a cardboard box from the counter .
The stairs creaked his weight , a sound that had become familiar over the years . He reached the top floor , and set the box down
but his eyes were already scanning the room restless .
The living space above the shop was small sparsely furnished but it was a home . Home that smelled faintly of rice , soya sauce , and dusted sunlight streaming through the narrow windows .
He reached for another box when something on the counter caught his eyes - ----
A glass jar of pickled vegetable teetering dangerously on the edge . His hand shot out instinctively. Time seemed to stretch . He caught it before it hit the ground .
"...."
He stared at it , heart hammering slightly, not from exertion , but from the reflexes that had saving it from breaking . Even after all these years , he marveled at his own reaction speed .
It was almost unnatural like his body remembered the movements in his mind hadn't yet processed . He had caught knives , books , jars -- small things nothing heroic - but it was enough to hint at something deeper , something latent , buried under years of fear and avoidance .
" Careful , Junsei . " Hana's voice broke through his thought . She had been watching from the doorway . " You're going to hurt yourself one of these days . "
Junsei exhaled . " I'm fine ," he said , setting the jar down with a little more care . " It's nothing. "
But it wasn't nothing . He knew it . Every time he reacted before thinking, he felt surge of ....something . Something like a potential. Something like power . And everytime , he shoved it down because he didn't want to face that he could be just like his father.
Dinner that evening was quiet . Hana placed bowls of rice and miso soup on the table . The smell was comforting and familiar but it did little to soothe the tight knot in Junsei's chest .
" You barely touched your homework today ," Hana said , trying to conservation , her tone light but concerned.
" I did it . " Junsei muttered , poking at his food . He wasn't hungry . Eating had never been comforting. He remembered his father laughing across the table at the small age , joking about finishing his homework before dinner so he could play with his car models . Those memories were bitter -sweet .
Hana sighed , her eyes softening as she watched him . " I know it's hard . Junsei ....losing your father , living in this town.... But you can't hide it forever . You have to live ."
Junsei didn't respond. How could she understand ? She had survived . Yes . She kept them both alive . But she hadn't seen him under the table that night , hadn't feel the terror as the screech of tires and the roared of crowd invaded in their apartment.
She hadn't seen his father's last moments .She hadn't lived with the fear that every car , every engine , could be the one to take away the people he loved most .
After the dinner , he went to his small room at the back of the apartment . He closed the door and leaned against it , staring at the blank wall . Outside , the sound of city seeped through the thin windows - screeching tires , the muffled roar of engines racing down the streets .
He shivered. The sounds that most people found exciting , thrilling or comforting made him anxious. Every vibration in the concrete below felt like a warning , every headlight that cut through the darkness a ghostly reminder.
And yet ... There was something else , deep down , that made his chest tighten in a different way . Something he refused to name .
It was not excitement . It was not desire . It was ..... instinct.
The next morning , the sun spilled across the shop as Hana unpacked a fresh delivery. Junsei helped quietly , moving boxes and stacking goods . He hated when she worried about him , but he hated even more when he saw the faint tremble in her hands as she worked . Losing his father had left scars but seeing his mother's weariness
cut deeper .
A loud crash echoed from the street outside . Junsei forze . His eyes flickered toward the window . A small car had clipped the curb , bouncing back onto the road . The driver crused under their breath , spinning the tires in frustration before speeding off .
Most kids would have stared in awe . Most grown up would have shaken their heads .
Junsei ? He flinched .
" Junsei , Pay attention !!! " Hana called .
" Yes , I'm fine , " he said though his thoughts where else where . The flash of the car , roar of its engine - it had sparked something buried beneath years of fear . Something that made his heart race in a way he both hated and couldn't igrone .
He remembered the box earlier , the jar caught ,the reflex that have saved it from breaking . He knew , deep down that he could react faster than most people , that he could do things others couldn't. But that knowledge terrified him . If he could catch a jar midair , what he could do behind the wheel of cars ?
He shivered at the thought . He hated it . He hated that instinct. He hated the part of him that remembered , even faintly how to move, how to survive , how to react .
Hana placed her hand on his shoulder , warm and steady . " Junsei .... You can't live in fear forever . You have to faced live , even if it scares you ... "
He looked down at her hand , saw the worry etched into her skin . He nodded but it felt hallow . How could he tell her that world he feared was filled with engines and speed , that every car on the street could carry death
like it had carried his father ?
How could he tell her that he hated cars - not for what they were but for what they had down ?
" I know , Mom , " He said softly ." I know . "
But he didn't mean it . Not yet .
That night , Junsei lay in bed , staring at the ceiling . The city hummed beneath them , a low , constant vibration of engines , horns , and tires screeched against asphalt . He wanted to block it out . He wanted to hide .
And yet ....his hands twitched .
He imagined catching something falling , like he had done with the jar . He imagined reacting before danger even reached him . He imagined moving the perfect presicion , dodging, weaving , surviving.
It terrified him . And yet ....it thrilled him .
Junsei closed his eyes . His father's voice
echoed faintly in his memory , laughing , shouting , alive : " Speed is freedom . Junsei Never forget it . "
He clenched his fists , the memory clashing with his fear . Speed was freedom - but it was also death. And he hated it both .
Tomorrow , he told himself , tomorrow he would just ....live . Avoid the race , avoid the streets, avoid everything . He would be ordinary . Safe .
But even as he drifted into uneasy sleep , something deep within him stirred , awake and alert . The instinct that saved the jar , that had reacted before thought could catch up , whispered softly .
One day , it would have to come out .
One day , he would not be able to hide from it .