Into the Apex

A Return to the Podium

The Singapore night glittered as the lights above the grid went out, signaling the start of the race. Engines roared to life, and 20 cars lunged forward into the humid air. Masachika Kuze, starting 12th, felt the adrenaline flood his veins as he launched off the line, threading his Aston Martin through the chaos of the first corner.

As the field funneled into Turn 1, the memories of the previous night flickered in his mind. Alya's words played over and over, a grounding force amidst the high-speed bedlam.

"Remember who you are, Masachika," she'd said. Her voice had been soft yet firm, her gaze steady. "You've been through worse. You've fought harder. So go out there and show them the driver I know you are."

Those words had settled into his soul, and now, as he dove into the hairpin at Turn 5, they propelled him forward. The race was long, the competition fierce, but he had something to prove—to himself, to the team, to the world.

By Lap 10, the chaos had already begun to unfold. A poorly timed pit stop by Ferrari had sent Carlos Sainz tumbling down the order, and McLaren's Lando Norris had clipped the wall, damaging his rear wing and forcing an early retirement. The virtual safety car was deployed, compressing the field, and Masachika knew this was his chance.

"Box, box," his race engineer's voice crackled over the radio.

"I'm staying out!" Masachika barked back, gripping the wheel tighter. The team had called him in for fresh tires, but his gut told him to hold his track position. He could already see the chaos forming around him, and a poorly timed pit stop could throw away everything.

There was a long pause before the engineer relented. "Understood. Let's make it work."

As the VSC ended, Masachika found himself in 8th, his decision paying off as others scrambled to recover from botched strategies. He pushed forward, carving through the field as drivers ahead faltered under pressure.

By Lap 25, the race turned into a war of attrition. Red Bull's Sergio Pérez misjudged his braking into Turn 14, careening into the barriers and bringing out the safety car. In the ensuing pit stop chaos, Aston Martin's strategists finally got something right, fitting Masachika's car with fresh medium tires. He rejoined the race in 5th, his heart pounding with renewed hope.

"Good job, Kuze," his engineer said over the radio. "You're in P5 now. Push hard."

Masachika smirked. "P5's not good enough."

The restart was brutal. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc battled fiercely up ahead, their scrap slowing them just enough for Masachika to close the gap. As they exited Turn 7, he saw his opportunity and lunged down the inside, overtaking both in one audacious move.

"Masachika Kuze! What a move!" the commentators roared. "He's up into P3! Incredible racing from the 2021 World Champion!"

His engineer's voice cracked with excitement. "You're in P3, Masachika! Keep pushing!"

But the battle was far from over. With 10 laps to go, George Russell in the Mercedes loomed large in his mirrors, applying relentless pressure. Masachika's tires were beginning to fade, and he had to fight tooth and nail to hold his position.

"Russell's gaining," his engineer warned.

"I know," Masachika growled, his focus razor-sharp. He weaved defensively, placing his car perfectly through every corner. With each lap, the Aston Martin's handling worsened, but Masachika gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain in his arms and the exhaustion in his body.

As the final lap approached, Masachika found himself in a three-way fight for the podium. Verstappen, on fresher tires, had clawed his way back into contention and was now breathing down his neck. The crowd roared as the three cars hurtled through the Marina Bay circuit under the dazzling lights.

"Hold him off, Masachika," his engineer urged. "Just one more lap."

"Easier said than done!" Masachika snapped, sweat dripping down his face.

The final sector was a blur of speed and precision. Verstappen tried to dive down the inside into Turn 16, but Masachika slammed the door shut, forcing the Red Bull wide. The crowd erupted as he powered through the final corner, his Aston Martin crossing the line in third place.

Masachika's voice cracked as he shouted over the radio. "Yes! Yes! Finally! That's what I'm talking about!"

"P3, Masachika," his engineer confirmed, his voice filled with pride. "What a race. What a drive. You're back on the podium."

As he climbed out of the car, the cheers from the crowd washed over him. The last time he'd stood on a podium had been in Austria earlier in the year, but this felt different. This felt earned. Hard-fought.

On the cool-down room monitor, he saw Vettel finishing in 8th. Masachika made a mental note to thank him later. Despite the chaos of the season, Vettel had been a rare source of support.

As he stepped onto the podium, the lights glimmering around him, Masachika raised his trophy high. Alya's words from the night before echoed in his mind.

"Remember who you are."

And for the first time in a long while, Masachika Kuze truly felt like himself.