The morning sun was already climbing higher, its rays slipping through the open shutters of the workshop. The air smelled faintly of oil, gasoline, and metal—ordinary scents that belied the extraordinary tension still hanging over the team. After the chaos with Akagi's sudden visit, no one had the luxury of rest. The clock was pushing toward eleven, and the EK9 had to be taken across the city for its dyno session.
The workshop floor was alive with motion. Simon and Takamori were double-checking the comms gear and laptops, making sure all the telemetry programs were properly saved for later analysis. Rin, still shaken but determined to prove himself useful, crouched by the flatbed, guiding the hydraulic ramp into place. Ayaka and Hana busied themselves with strapping down toolboxes inside the Hiace, muttering between themselves about spare parts. Walter leaned against a workbench, arms crossed, his sharp eyes flicking from person to person as if already strategizing. Nikolai moved like a storm cloud, his usual sternness amplified by the earlier confrontation—he checked the EK9's straps twice over before barking at Rin to adjust one of the hooks.
And at the center of it all was Izamuri. He was bent low, muscles tensed, carefully guiding the Civic Type R up the ramp of the flatbed truck. His face glistened with sweat, not only from the effort but also from the weight of everything that had just happened.
Daichi stood slightly apart, watching with a calm but unreadable expression. For all his collected exterior, even he felt the knot tightening in his stomach. Akagi's shadow had already begun to press against them, and now the entire team was bracing for what that meant.
Then, the low hum of an engine outside made everyone pause.
A sleek black Toyota Alphard pulled up in front of the workshop, its polished exterior catching the sunlight. The sliding door opened with a quiet hiss, and from it stepped Shina Ikawa.
The effect was immediate.
Conversations died mid-sentence. Tools were lowered, straps left half-tightened. Even the whir of the hydraulic ramp seemed to fade into the background as every pair of eyes in the workshop turned toward her.
She was dressed simply compared to her last visit, an understated cream blouse and dark skirt—but she carried herself with the same elegance that made even the fluorescent-lit garage feel suddenly smaller. Her presence seemed out of place among grease-stained overalls and oil barrels, and yet, her steps carried her forward with determination.
"...Izamuri."
Her voice, clear and deliberate, broke the silence. She bypassed everyone else without a glance, heading straight for him.
Izamuri, still gripping the wheel of the EK9 as it rested halfway up the ramp, blinked in surprise. "Shina? What are you—"
Before he could finish, she closed the distance and stopped right in front of him. Her expression was troubled, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Tell me," she asked quickly, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "Did Akagi come here? Was he here, just a few minutes ago?"
The room froze.
Walter straightened, his brow furrowed. Daichi's calm cracked as his eyes flicked between her and Izamuri. Nikolai stiffened, his entire frame tensing like a coiled spring. Simon raised his eyebrows, clearly piecing things together.
"Wait," Walter said first, his German accent cutting through the stunned silence. "You know Nakamura?"
Shina exhaled sharply, glancing down at the floor before meeting Walter's gaze. "...He's my mother's choice." Her words hung in the air like a heavy weight. "The man she wants me to marry. The man she insists I cannot escape."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crew.
Hana and Ayaka exchanged stunned looks, the latter's jaw dropping slightly. Rin muttered something about this being straight out of a drama series, only to receive a sharp elbow from Hana to shut up.
Izamuri's expression hardened. He'd already known part of this from their earlier conversations at the park, but hearing it laid out openly, here, in front of the team, made it all too real.
"So it's true then," Nikolai growled, stepping closer, his fists clenching at his sides. "That bastard hasn't changed one bit. He shows his face here, tries to steal the car, and now I find out he's the same man trying to chain you into his empire?" He spat to the side, muttering darkly in Russian.
Daichi's eyes sharpened, his voice calm but heavy. "So, that's the truth of it."
Shina nodded slowly, almost apologetically. "I didn't mean to bring this here. I never wanted to drag anyone into it. But when I heard he came, that's when I realized he had found Izamuri already… I had to see for myself."
The weight of her words settled over the workshop.
Haruka, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. "So, let me get this straight. That man, Akagi Nakamura, who just waltzed into our workshop, shoved our driver, and demanded we sell him the EK9… is not only some corporate vulture but also the man trying to force you into marriage?"
"Yes," Shina said simply. Her voice cracked just slightly on the word.
Simon whistled low. "Well… that explains a lot."
Walter shook his head slowly, disbelief etched across his face. "This is… this is worse than I thought. If he's meddling in racing, in your life, and now in Izamuri's… we're all in his line of sight."
The atmosphere was suffocating. Everyone was piecing together the realit. Akagi's sudden appearance wasn't just business, it was personal.
Izamuri finally broke the silence, his voice firm. "Then we stand our ground. I don't care who he is, or what he owns, or what power he thinks he has. He doesn't get to walk in here and decide what happens to me, or to any of us."
Shina looked at him, her expression softening for the first time since she entered. "Izamuri…"
Nikolai clapped a heavy hand on Izamuri's shoulder, nodding firmly. "You're right. That man thrives on fear. He wants us rattled, broken before the fight even starts. But we won't give him that."
Daichi crossed his arms. "Still… this complicates things. If he knows about Shina and Izamuri, then his eyes are already on us. That means more pressure, more danger. Everyone needs to stay alert."
Haruka exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I guess that explains why he came sniffing around so suddenly. He doesn't care about the EK9. Not really. He cares about you." He gestured toward Izamuri.
The tension began to ease only slightly, though the undercurrent of unease remained. Shina stood silently for a moment, her hands clasped tightly together. Finally, she said softly, "I'm sorry for dragging this into your world. But I had to be honest. You deserve to know who you're up against."
Izamuri shook his head. "Don't apologize. This isn't your fault. If anything, it just makes me more certain that I can't back down."
Behind them, the truck's hydraulic lift groaned as the EK9 settled fully into place. The sound was almost symbolic, the car ready for its trial, just as the team was being tested in ways they hadn't foreseen.
For the first time since Akagi's appearance, Daichi's expression softened into a small, confident smirk. "Then we know what to do. We keep pushing forward. He can watch all he wants, but when we're out there on the track, the only thing that'll matter is the stopwatch."
The others nodded in agreement, though none missed the way Nikolai's jaw remained clenched tight, or the way Shina's eyes flicked nervously toward the door as if expecting Akagi to appear again at any moment.
The truth was out now. Akagi Nakamura wasn't just a shadow lurking at the edges of their lives. He was here, watching, moving, striking. And the team knew, whether on the streets, in business, or on the track, they had just stepped into a war far larger than themselves.
The moment Shina finally turned and walked toward her waiting Alphard, the tension in the workshop eased, but only slightly. Her heels clicked softly against the concrete, the sound growing fainter until the door slid shut and the engine purred to life. No one said anything for a few seconds after she left; everyone seemed to be processing the weight of what had just been laid out in the open.
Walter was the first to break the silence. "We should get moving," he said, glancing at his watch. "If we don't leave now, we're going to be late for the dyno slot."
Daichi nodded in agreement. "Right. Let's not waste any more time."
The crew sprang back into motion. Ayaka and Hana helped Rin secure the final tie-downs on the EK9, making sure the car sat perfectly centered on the flatbed. Takamori did a last-minute check on the boxes of spare parts and fluids, making sure they were stacked neatly inside the Hiace. The twins hovered nearby, looking slightly disappointed they wouldn't be going—logistics duty wasn't exactly glamorous.
Haruka wiped his hands on a rag and turned to Izamuri. "You're riding with me," he said. "Daichi, Walter, Nikolai, and Simon will take Walter's wagon."
Izamuri raised an eyebrow. "Why split up?"
"Two reasons," Haruka replied, tossing the rag onto a workbench. "One, space. Two, Walter's Mercedes has the rear cargo space to carry more of the heavier stuff, and it's a bit more comfortable for a long drive. My Corolla's fine, but not exactly the best for four grown men plus tools."
Walter gave a smirk as he twirled his keys around his finger. "Besides, my E190 Estate is much better company."
Simon chuckled under his breath. "Better company, maybe. But I'd bet Haruka's Corolla gets better fuel economy."
"Not a chance," Walter replied with mock offense. "German engineering beats economy any day."
Haruka rolled his eyes but didn't reply, instead gesturing for Izamuri to follow him. "Come on. We've got a long enough drive across the city."
The two of them headed for Haruka's silver Corolla E101 TRD2000, parked in its usual spot just outside the workshop. The car looked modest, especially compared to some of the machines they worked on daily, but it had a clean, purposeful presence that reflected Haruka's style, no wasted flash, just well-maintained and tuned.
As Haruka unlocked the doors, the low rumble of Walter's E190's inline-four echoed across the street. The deep, refined tone of the 2.3-liter engine carried a certain old-school authority. The dark blue paint gleamed even under the slightly overcast sky, and the lowered stance, period-correct AMG alloys, and subtle aero kit marked it as a car owned by someone who cared about both performance and style.
Nikolai climbed into the rear passenger seat, his tall frame folding in with some difficulty. "Every time I get in this thing, I swear it shrinks."
Walter smirked. "You're just too big, my friend."
Simon took the seat beside him, giving the interior an approving glance. "Not bad at all. You keep it in good nick."
"Of course," Walter replied with a hint of pride as Daichi settled into the front passenger seat. "This car's been with me longer than some friendships."
Meanwhile, in the Corolla, Haruka started the engine, the exhaust note a little throatier than stock thanks to a subtle performance system. Izamuri buckled up and glanced over. "You know, this is not bad for a car"
Haruka smirked. "Don't get too excited. It's not going to blow your mind, it's just a Corolla."
They rolled out of the workshop one after the other, the flatbed truck carrying the EK9 leading the way. The convoy slipped into Tokyo traffic, merging with the steady morning flow. The streets buzzed with the usual life, delivery scooters weaving between lanes, buses hissing to a stop, pedestrians waiting at crosswalks.
Inside the Corolla, the atmosphere was calmer. Izamuri leaned back in the seat, watching the city slide by. "So… do you think Shina's going to be alright?" he asked quietly.
Haruka kept his eyes on the road. "She's strong. But dealing with someone like Akagi isn't easy. I'm guessing he's the type who doesn't let go once he sets his eyes on something, or someone."
"I'm not going to let him decide my life," Izamuri said firmly.
Haruka glanced at him briefly, then smirked faintly. "Good. That's the spirit I want to see in my driver."
A few car lengths ahead, Walter's E190 cruised smoothly in the lane beside the flatbed. Inside, the conversation had turned more technical.
Daichi leaned back, arms crossed. "When we get to the dyno, I want to focus on mid-range power. The B18C's top-end is great, but Fuji's long straights mean we'll benefit from stronger pull between 5,000 and 7,000 RPM."
Simon nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. And with the gearing, we can optimize for acceleration without sacrificing too much on the top end. I'll make sure the data logger's ready before we start."
Nikolai, still staring out the window, suddenly grunted. "As long as it's faster than last year's pole time, I don't care."
Walter laughed. "We're not just going for faster, we're going for dominance."
The convoy wound its way through the city for nearly an hour, the flatbed carefully navigating tighter streets while the two chase cars kept pace. Eventually, they reached a more industrial district, the buildings here squatter and more utilitarian. Signs of performance shops and machine works dotted the area, big roll-up doors, banners advertising tuning brands, the occasional roar of an engine echoing from inside a garage.
Their destination was a respected tuning workshop known for its precision engine work and top-tier dyno facilities. The flatbed pulled in first, followed closely by Haruka's Corolla and Walter's E190.
The smell of high-octane fuel and warm rubber hit immediately as the engines were cut. The workshop was busy—two bays were occupied by heavily modified GT-Rs, their hoods open, mechanics swarming around them. A third bay stood empty, waiting for the EK9.
The crew disembarked quickly. Haruka pocketed his keys and joined Izamuri at the rear of the flatbed. Walter and Nikolai began coordinating with the shop staff, while Daichi exchanged quick greetings with the head mechanic, a man he clearly knew from past work. Simon, meanwhile, was already unpacking his laptop and setting it on a workbench near the dyno controls.
"Alright," Haruka said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get this thing off the truck."
Izamuri nodded, stepping up to help release the straps. The hydraulic ramp hissed and lowered, and within minutes the EK9 was being carefully rolled down and pushed toward the dyno bay. The sound of its B18C engine echoed off the walls as Daichi climbed in to guide it into place.
As the car was strapped down, Simon leaned over to Walter. "You know… for a small private team, we're starting to look awfully professional."
Walter smirked. "That's the idea."
By the time the dyno rollers began to spin, the entire crew had gathered around. The loud, rhythmic growl of the engine filled the room, reverberating through the concrete floor. Data streamed across Simon's laptop screen, numbers climbing and stabilizing as the EK9 reached its power band.
They had made it on time. And for the first time since Akagi's shadow fell over them, the team's focus was entirely on what they did best, making the car faster.
"Alright," Daichi called out over the ambient hum of equipment. "First run—98 octane, current setup. Let's see what she's got."
The tech nodded and slid into the driver's seat, snapping the harness over his shoulders before firing up the B18C. The engine barked to life, a deep, purposeful growl reverberating through the enclosed space. As the rollers began to turn, the growl became a scream, sharp, mechanical, precise. The scent of high-octane fuel filled the air, mixing with the smell of warm rubber from the tires spinning against the rollers.
Simon's eyes flicked between the live readout on his laptop and the main dyno screen. "Alright, smooth pull… keep it steady… and… stop."
The tech lifted off the throttle, letting the engine wind down with a pop from the exhaust system. On the big display above the dyno, the numbers froze: 220 horsepower at 8,200 RPM.
Walter tilted his head, impressed. "Not bad for the first pull."
Daichi grinned faintly. "Not bad at all, but we can squeeze more out of her."
Haruka crossed his arms. "You thinking ignition timing?"
"Timing and fuel ratio," Daichi replied. "She's breathing well, but I think she's running a hair rich."
Simon's fingers were already dancing across his keyboard. "I'll lean it out just slightly, nothing dangerous—and advance the ignition two degrees. Let's see how she responds."
Five minutes later, the car was ready for the second run. The tech dropped the clutch again, the rollers spinning up faster this time. The B18C's scream filled the workshop, sharper and more aggressive than before. Everyone's eyes locked on the power graph as the curve rose, plateaued, and then peaked.
"226 horsepower," Simon read out.
"Better," Daichi said, rubbing his chin. "We're heading in the right direction."
"Still room to play," Simon added, already pulling up the ignition table again. "I'll give her another degree of advance and adjust the mid-range fueling. We want her to pull harder between 5,500 and 7,500 RPM before she climbs to redline."
The third run roared to life, and as the rollers screamed beneath the EK9, the curve climbed higher still. 229 horsepower. A smile tugged at Daichi's lips.
"Not bad for just breathing and timing tweaks," Walter remarked. "But… we're still on 98 octane. Want to go for the big one?"
Daichi's eyes lit up. "Bring out the 100 octane drum."
Two shop assistants rolled over a steel drum marked with a bright 100 RON label. The smell of the fuel hit almost immediately, stronger, more pungent than pump gas. Haruka grabbed the siphon pump and helped drain the last of the 98 octane from the EK9's tank before filling it with the high-grade stuff.
At the same time, Nikolai rolled in a box marked K&N Performance Intake. He set it on the bench with a grin. "Figured we'd save this for last."
"Perfect," Daichi said. "Let's swap it in."
The crew set to work with precision. Haruka and Rin removed the stock intake setup, while Nikolai prepped the new K&N cone filter and piping. Simon double-checked that the MAF sensor would seat properly in the new housing. Within twenty minutes, the gleaming new intake was bolted in place, the filter's red pleats standing out like a badge of purpose.
"Alright," Daichi said, clapping his hands together. "Moment of truth."
The B18C fired back to life, and the difference was immediate. Even at idle, the intake hissed with a deeper tone, promising more air and more power. As the rollers began to turn, the note sharpened into a high-pitched wail, the engine now breathing freely and aggressively.
"Smooth… smooth… full throttle," Simon instructed, watching the data stream in real-time.
The dyno graph shot upward, the torque curve bulging in the midrange before surging toward the top. The numbers climbed, 230… 232… 234… and finally… 235 horsepower at 8,400 RPM.
The shop erupted with a mix of cheers and satisfied laughter.
"Now that," Walter said with a wide grin, "is more like it."
Haruka slapped Izamuri on the shoulder. "There's your race power. How's it feel knowing the car's got that much grunt now?"
Izamuri couldn't help but smile. "Feels like I have no excuse to be slow anymore."
Daichi stepped forward, studying the power and torque graphs on Simon's laptop. "Nice and flat torque delivery from midrange up. She's going to pull hard out of every corner. Combine that with your Fuji time last week, and we're looking at a serious contender."
Simon leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "The intake definitely woke her up. The 100 octane helps too—keeps detonation at bay so we can run more timing without worry."
"Yeah," Haruka agreed, wiping his hands on a rag. "But remember, we're not going to run 100 octane every session. For race day, yes, but we'll stick to 98 for most practice runs so we don't burn through the expensive stuff too fast."
Nikolai nodded. "Makes sense. But still… this is a good benchmark."
They let the EK9 cool down while reviewing the logged data. Simon pointed out a few areas where intake temps could be lowered even further, suggesting some heat shielding and ducting improvements. Walter was already brainstorming suspension tweaks to complement the newfound power.
Meanwhile, Izamuri lingered near the car, running his hand along the fender. The thought of putting all 235 horsepower to work at Fuji filled him with a quiet determination. Every small adjustment, every late-night wrenching session, it was all adding up.
With the final numbers logged and the straps removed, they rolled the EK9 off the dyno and back toward the flatbed truck. The evening air outside was cool, the sky turning into a deepening shade of orange as the city prepared for night. The smell of hot rubber and warm metal lingered as they secured the car for transport.
The drive back to the workshop was quieter than the trip there, everyone seemed content, a little drained from the long day but satisfied with the results. Even Walter's usual banter in the E190 was toned down, replaced by easy conversation about the week ahead.
When they pulled up to the workshop, the twins were just locking up for the night. They looked mildly disappointed that they'd missed the dyno session, but perked up when Haruka told them the numbers.
Inside, the team gathered briefly to discuss the next day's plan. Daichi spread out a rough schedule on the workbench, pointing to the week ahead.
"Tomorrow morning, we leave for Fuji. Myself, Walter, Nikolai, Simon, Takamori, Rin, and Izamuri will be there from Tuesday through Sunday. We'll be staying at the Fuji Speedway Hotel to maximize track time. Free practice starts Friday, but I want us running laps every day before that."
Haruka added, "The rest of us, me, Hana, Ayaka, and the twins, will come on Friday. Until then, the workshop will be closed. We can't risk splitting the crew with race week this close."
Simon glanced at Izamuri. "That means you've got three days to get as comfortable as possible with the car at Fuji. Every lap counts."
Izamuri nodded. "Understood. I'll make sure we're not just ready, but ahead."
Walter stretched, yawning. "Well, if that's all, I say we call it a day. We've got an early morning tomorrow."
Everyone agreed. Tools were put away, lights were switched off, and the crew filtered out into the cool evening air. The sound of engines starting filled the small street as the team went their separate ways for the night, ready to regroup in less than twelve hours for the real grind to begin.
Tomorrow, the calm of Tokyo would be replaced by the roar of engines echoing against the mountains of Shizuoka. And for Izamuri, it would be the start of his longest, most important week yet.