Multiple days had passed since the meetup at the PA.
Tokyo was wrapped in cold morning air, the kind that clung to the skin and made every breath mist faintly. Tracen Academy had settled back into its usual rhythm—lectures, morning runs, trainers shouting orders somewhere in the distance.
The dorms, however, were quiet.
Inside one of the upper rooms, Agnes Tachyon lay sprawled on her back, staring blankly at the white dormitory ceiling. She hadn't moved much for the past hour, lost in a loop of thoughts she couldn't shake.
Her mind drifted—again—to that night.
That first run.
The moment she merged onto the C1, the moment the Devil Z's twin turbos spooled, the moment the car lunged forward like a beast finally untethered.
She felt the sensation ripple through her chest again—an echo of the high-speed rush.
"Driving the Wangan… driving at those speeds…" she whispered to herself.
Her eyes narrowed as something twisted in her chest.
"For some reason… I felt… alive."
She slowly sat up, planting her feet on the wooden floor. Her posture slouched forward, elbows resting on her thighs, fingers curled loosely.
"But why…?"
Her voice was barely audible.
She closed her eyes.
"It's like… like I belong there."
The thought lingered like a pulse. It made no logical sense—nothing about the Wangan was logical. It was danger, speed, metal, and instinct. And yet…
She stood up abruptly.
Tachyon slipped on her black flats, grabbed the navy-blue hoodie hanging on her chair, and walked toward the window.
She swept the curtains aside.
There it was.
Down in the parking lot, glinting under the clear blue winter skies—her Midnight Blue S30Z. Parked neatly next to Tokai Teio's Bayside Blue R34 GT-R.
Only their two machines remained.
Tachyon stared down at the Devil Z with an unreadable expression.
"I need answers…" she murmured.
"I need to understand why I feel like this."
Her breath fogged slightly against the cold windowpane.
She wanted to ask Maruzensky—she'd been on the Wangan before, had experience, had history there.
But Maruzensky was nowhere in sight.
After a long moment, Tachyon stepped back. She grabbed the keys off her desk—the polished metal key ring clinking softly—and walked out of her room.
She descended the quiet dorm hallway. The faint hum of heaters filled the silence. Her footsteps echoed as she pushed through the main doors and stepped into the crisp Tokyo air.
Her breath came out white as she crossed the open path toward the parking lot.
When she reached the S30Z, she stopped dead in her tracks—right in front of the car.
Hands in her pockets. Shoulders slightly stiff. Ears angled downward.
She just stared.
The morning wind brushed against her hair.
"Why…" she murmured again, voice thick with frustration.
She let her fingertips graze the cool metal of the Devil Z's fender.
"For some reason… it's peaceful when I drive there."
Her reflection in the midnight-blue paint stared back—conflicted, unsure, but pulled by something powerful and invisible.
Her ears twitched.
Footsteps approached from behind—steady, composed, unmistakably disciplined.
Tachyon turned to her left.
Air Groove, Vice President of the Student Council, approached with her usual calm authority. Her heels clicked against the pavement, tail swaying softly with each step.
Tachyon exhaled sharply and straightened her posture.
"Ah. Vice President. Good morning."
Air Groove nodded politely.
"Morning to you too, Tachyon."
Her sharp eyes drifted immediately to the Midnight Blue S30Z.
"Admiring your new car?" she asked.
Tachyon shook her head.
"Yeah—well, that and something else."
She hesitated for a moment, then looked directly at Air Groove.
"Did you see Rudolf-san a while ago?"
Air Groove nodded once.
"Yes. She and Maruzensky went out to run an errand. They should be back after lunch."
Tachyon's ears drooped slightly.
"Oh. I see…"
She looked back up.
"You drive, right?"
Air Groove nodded.
"I do. Not every day, but yes—I drive."
Tachyon looked at her Z… then at Air Groove again.
"I gotta ask you something."
She met the Vice President's eyes directly.
"What's it like… driving in the Wangan? For you."
Air Groove's ears stood tall.
She closed her eyes, placing a finger thoughtfully against her chin. A long moment passed.
Then she opened her eyes and smiled softly.
"Driving in the Wangan is actually calming."
Tachyon's eyes widened.
"Calming?"
Air Groove turned away briefly, looking up at the cold morning sky.
"It's like the Wangan just… eats away the stress and anger in you," she said.
"At that speed… in that space… it's only you and the car."
She closed her eyes, letting the memory wash over her.
"And it's even better when you encounter other Umas there. Fellow drivers. Fellow racers. Fellow souls."
A breath.
"It's just Uma… and machine."
Tachyon blinked, trying to process the idea.
Air Groove continued.
"I remember something Rudolf once said."
She turned, meeting Tachyon's eyes again.
"In the Wangan… you can find yourself."
Tachyon stared at her, stunned.
"I… see…"
Air Groove chuckled softly.
"Well, I hope you find your answer there, Tachyon."
Tachyon nodded.
"I hope so too."
With a polite bow of her head, Air Groove walked off toward the dormitories. Her footsteps faded gradually into the morning quiet.
Tachyon watched her leave, then murmured:
"Finding yourself… in the Wangan?"
She looked back at the Devil Z.
The paint reflected her expression—uncertain, restless, searching.
Tachyon stepped forward, grabbed the door handle, and pulled open the driver's-side door. She slipped into the bucket seat and pulled the door shut with a solid metal thud.
She reached down and secured her five-point harness, pulling each strap tight across her shoulders and hips.
She slid the key into the ignition.
A breath.
Then she twisted it.
The 3.1-liter twin-turbo L28 roared awake—raw, mechanical, alive. The car vibrated around her, the turbochargers whining faintly as they settled.
Tachyon rested her hand on the shifter, pushed the clutch in, and slipped the car into first gear.
The Devil Z rolled forward.
Out of the parking lot.
Out of the campus.
Into the city streets.
Heading back toward the place that called to her—
The Wangan.
Somewhere along the Wangan — Bayshore Route.
The red Countach LP5000QV sliced through the early-morning traffic, its twin turbos whistling faintly as the highway curved southwest. The three rear louvers rattled slightly with each bump, the V12 humming in a relaxed cruise.
Inside, Symboli Rudolf sat behind the wheel, hands steady at ten and two. Maruzensky lounged in the passenger seat, head leaned against her hand as she stared lazily out the window.
"It's rare for you to let someone drive your car, Maruzensky," Rudolf said, side-eyeing her with a raised brow.
Maruzensky chuckled, tail flicking lightly.
"Eh. It was bound to happen eventually. Besides… I didn't have anything better to do today."
Rudolf let out a quiet laugh.
"Figures."
A moment passed as the Countach overtook a delivery van, the engine note rising briefly.
"You still need my input on your suspension setup, right?" Rudolf asked.
Maruzensky nodded.
"Right. The Hakone time trial event starts in two weeks. I figured I might as well get advice from someone who's constantly finished fourth in the uphill standings."
Rudolf smirked.
"I don't aim to sit on top of the standings. And besides—" She tapped the steering wheel with her thumb. "—I still need to dial in my own suspension."
Maruzensky shot her a sideways glance.
"Which one? Your FB? Or the other one?"
"The other one," Rudolf answered immediately, cutting her off before she could say more.
She exhaled through her nose before continuing.
"Well… you'll want to stiffen your suspension a little. Hakone's route has a handful of jumps. Better to walk off the course with a sore back than a broken front bumper."
Maruzensky grimaced slightly.
Rudolf carried on.
"And didn't you replace your front bumper more than a few times running the mountain passes? Every time your front end dips under braking, it scrapes on something."
Maruzensky nodded reluctantly.
"Yeah. And I'm not gonna lie… I'm getting pretty pissed about that."
Rudolf chuckled.
"Then stiffen the suspension. Especially if you want to keep your current ride height."
Her expression sharpened a bit.
"And the last thing you want is your rear end scraping the road and puncturing your oil pan."
Maruzensky's ears drooped at that.
"Yeah… I figured you'd say that."
The Countach continued its steady glide down the Bayshore Route, the two still rambling on—about springs, shock settings, rebound stiffness, ride height, and all the headaches and triumphs that came with tuning a temperamental Italian monster.
The sun crept higher above Tokyo Bay, the highway stretching endlessly ahead.
Time slipped by quickly.
Tachyon had been driving the Wangan all morning—looping through interchanges, merging through long straights, letting the Midnight Blue Z breathe. Now she was cruising along the Yokohane Route, approaching Ōta.
The sun had reached its peak, burning bright against a clean, cloudless sky. Afternoon traffic thickened across the lanes, a steady stream of trucks, vans, sedans, and the occasional modified machine. With the road full, Tachyon took things slow.
But she wasn't here to race.
She was here to search.
Her grip on the steering wheel loosened, posture sinking slightly into the bucket seat.
"Air Groove was right…" she murmured, eyes half-lidded as she watched the horizon slide past. "There really is this feeling… like the Wangan actually puts you at peace."
Her brows tightened.
"But it still doesn't tell me why."
"There has to be a reason. There has to be."
A blue sign approached overhead.
HEIWAJIMA PARKING AREA – 1 km
Tachyon looked down at the dashboard clock mounted near the center—just to the left of her instrument cluster.
12:05 PM.
She let out a breath.
"May as well stop for a bit… stretch my legs."
She flicked on her left signal, checked her mirrors, looked over her shoulder, then eased the steering wheel left. The Devil Z glided into the PA off-ramp.
She downshifted smoothly—heel and toe through fourth, then third, then second—letting the twin-turbo L28 settle into a calm throaty idle as she braked gently.
The parking area opened up before her, a mix of touring vans, commuter cars, and a handful of modified vehicles lined along the back section.
Tachyon scanned for a free space.
Then her eyes caught something familiar at the far end.
A red Lamborghini Countach, scissor doors closed, gleaming in the sun.
"Oh… there's Maruzensky."
Her gaze shifted slightly right—
Standing beside the Countach was Symboli Rudolf.
Tachyon blinked.
"And… Rudolf??"
At that same moment, both Maruzensky and Rudolf heard the distinct growl of a twin-turbo L-series engine. They looked up and spotted the Midnight Blue S30Z rolling toward them, its exhaust rumbling deeply.
Maruzensky let out a short laugh.
"Looks like Tachyon-chan is here."
Rudolf narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Wait. That's Tachyon's new car?"
Maruzensky nodded, arms folding across her chest.
"Yep. And funnily enough… she bought the one and only Devil Z."
Rudolf froze for half a heartbeat. Her pupils dilated slightly, her ears standing stiff and tall.
"Devil Z…"
She looked at the S30Z now slowly backing into the open space beside the Countach, perfectly straight as Tachyon eased it in with tiny steering corrections.
Then Rudolf looked at Maruzensky again.
"As in… the Midnight Blue, twin-turbo L28, nearly impossible-to-control Devil Z?"
Maruzensky smirked.
"I didn't stutter, did I?"
The engine of the S30Z ticked as it settled, heat rippling faintly from the vents. Then, with a soft metallic click, Tachyon shut it off completely.
Silence washed over the parking area.
The right-side door swung open, and Tachyon stepped out—boots planting lightly on the asphalt. She straightened up, stretched her arms high over her head until her back arched and popped. Her tail stiffened out behind her, stretching with her body.
She lowered her arms and turned toward the red Countach and the two Umas beside it.
"Hey there, Rudolf. Hey, Maruzensky."
Maruzensky lifted a hand enthusiastically.
"Heyya!"
Rudolf gave a polite, controlled nod.
"Tachyon. Good to see you."
Tachyon nodded back.
"Nice to see you two here too."
Rudolf continued, arms behind her back in her usual composed stance.
"We ran a quick errand near Haneda. Since Maruzensky needed input for her suspension setup, we took the Shuto routes on the way back."
Tachyon snapped her fingers.
"About that. I want to talk to you two."
Both Maruzensky and Rudolf blinked, glancing at each other before looking back at her.
"Us?" they said in unison.
"Yes," Tachyon replied.
She shifted her weight slightly and looked toward the S30Z behind her, its Midnight Blue paint gleaming under the noon sun.
"I talked with Air Groove earlier today. I asked her why driving the Shuto feels so calming… why my head gets clearer every time I'm out there."
She looked upward toward the clear sky, eyes narrowing slightly.
"She said something about finding yourself in the Wangan… and that the expressways take your stress away."
Then she turned around, leaned her back lightly against the right rear quarter of her S30Z, and faced the two seniors directly.
"I want to hear it from you two. You've been driving here longer than I have."
Her fingers curled slightly against the metal behind her.
"Why?"
"Why is it so peaceful out there?"
Maruzensky let out a slow breath. Her posture shifted into something calmer, more serious.
"It's because in the Wangan, you're just… you," she said quietly. "No one's hounding you. No one judging you. No pressure from races or training. It's just you, your machine, and whatever traffic happens to be in front of you."
Rudolf nodded, folding her arms across her chest.
"Maruzensky's right. The Shuto doesn't get repetitive. Even if you've run the same route a hundred times, it's always different—traffic changes, weather changes, the lighting changes… even your own mindset changes."
She lifted one hand, gesturing lightly but precisely.
"And on those roads, you feel free. Nothing restraining you—well, aside from the danger of rear-ending someone."
Maruzensky smirked at that, then focused seriously on Tachyon again.
"All that pressure, stress, sadness you've been carrying since your forced retirement… it feels lighter here, doesn't it?"
She looked up toward the sky, tail flicking softly.
"Think of the expressways—or a mountain pass, or a circuit—as something different from running on a track. Out there, it's not about how your body performs. It's about how you drive… how your car is built… and how the two of you connect."
Maruzensky stepped closer and leaned her back beside Tachyon's against the Z's rear fender.
"Driving can be a freedom from all the pain you've had to hold."
Tachyon lowered her head, eyes softening, absorbing every word. She slowly nodded—once, twice—then raised her head again.
"This feeling…" she whispered. "Driving down the Shuto expressways… I've never felt so…"
She lifted her chin toward the sky, eyes reflecting the bright blue above them.
"So… alive."