Training Nights

First Night

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Mount Kobushi, 20:09 (10:09 PM)

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It was a quiet night on that mountain. Many drifters had found themselves enamored with the course of Mount Kobushi. Her corners were sharp and perfect for skilled drifts, her straights were perfect for sudden acceleration and sudden stops. It was wild, unexpected, and considered one of the fastest and most skilled courses on the planet.

In the late nineties, in the height of drift racing, a young doctor named David Friedland created a team on that hill far away from his hometown of Chicago in Saitama Japan, and it seemed like he could never come down from it so it seemed. Except, his son brought him crashing back down to earth from the angelic heights of that mountainous legend of the Green Evo.

(Baby Thomas wailing so loudly in David's and Mary's arms Den has to pause for a minute from writing to rub his ears)

Those two Americans living in Saitama had no idea they had created something that would send the racing world spiraling upwards into a craze. Never before had people been so obsessed with racing after Thomas brought it back into the limelight, and then...Louis Flash hit the racing scene like the white comet Thomas was years later.

And everything changed again. Louis had saved the earth from aliens in a race and agreed to race Thomas Friedland who'd recently come out of retirement from mountain racing. 

Crickets chirped around the forest past Kobushi's guardrail, a bird or two tweeted in their nighttimes song...and a single white comet blazing down Kobushi similar to the green comet like father before him, charged headfirst into his famous comet drift.

A white FC3S tore through a turn, its front tires pointed inwards to prevent oversteer, and its outer tires losing traction and screeching loudly as the back of the ivory machine swung around the right turn.

Thomas Friedland smiled and the wheel of his beloved FC3s, it had been ages since he had had a good night's drift. He'd promised his buxom and orangeish brown haired girlfriend Ayoko Tamayochi, who looked and sounded just like her mother Sayuki, he wouldn't drift again, but he still raced in secret at his father's old course, just for the thrill of it.

He breathed in happily, soaking in the familiar blue glue of his dashboard on the right side of the FC. It was like a fighter jet's cockpit, with blue evo gauges letting Thomas know if even the tiniest thing was wrong with his car, by indicating it electronically of course.

As his FC swung around a corner in a right drift so quick the air was left with a white ghost of an imprint, two red lights trailed from the carmine circles in the back of the FC3s. Thomas upshifted after leaving the turn, and all out of instinct, zipped down another straightaway.

JL hummed quietly in his blue GT-R R34 along to the music he was listening to. He squinted into his rearview mirror when he heard the FC screech out of a corner behind him thinking.

What car is that...Hm...Looks like a classic FC3S from the 90s...what's it doing out so late?

The second JL saw the FC in his rear view mirror, he gasped, as it pressed right up to his bumper as both cars approached the coming left turn.

"HE JUST CAME OUT OF A DRIFT! HOW'S HE ACCELERATING SO FAST!?" JL screamed in his GT-R as the FC stayed stuck right behind him.

Something that would stay imprinted in JL's mind for the rest of his life then happened. Thomas took the inside line by gripping the gutter space between the asphalt of the road and the rock of the mountain. The FC accelerated sharply and jumped speed, accelerating ahead of the GT-R in a split second.