Seventeen-year-old Hisashi sat in the driver's seat of her uncle Kumoku's car, her hands gripping the steering wheel nervously. It was her first time driving on a real road, and the mixed excitement and fear coursed through her veins. Uncle Kumoku, calm and composed as always, sat in the passenger seat, his eyes hidden behind his signature sunglasses.
"Alright, Hisashi," he said, his voice steady. "Remember what we practiced. Ease into the accelerator, and keep your hands steady."
Hisashi took a deep breath and nodded, slowly pressing down on the accelerator. The car began to move, and she felt a rush of adrenaline. They drove through the quiet streets of Chunanami, her uncle giving her pointers and encouraging her with each turn and stop.
As they approached a winding road, Kumoku decided to challenge her a bit. "Alright, we're going to take this next turn a bit faster. Trust yourself and the car. You've got this."
Hisashi swallowed hard but nodded. She increased her speed slightly, focusing on the road ahead. The turn was sharp, and she could feel the car's weight shifting. She managed it well, earning an approving nod from her uncle.
"Good job," Kumoku said. "Now, let's head to the main road. You're ready for a bit more traffic."
They merged onto a busier street, and Hisashi felt her confidence growing. But as they continued driving, an unexpected obstacle appeared—a large truck swerved into their lane, forcing the car behind it to brake suddenly. In a split second, Hisashi saw that she had no choice but to react quickly to avoid a collision.
Without thinking, Hisashi's hands moved on the steering wheel with precision and speed. She swerved the car to the left, narrowly avoiding the truck, then maneuvered around another vehicle before straightening out in the correct lane. The entire maneuver happened in a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
They drove in silence for a moment, the tension in the air palpable. Hisashi's hands were trembling, and she could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She glanced at her uncle, expecting to see anger or disappointment, but instead, she found him smiling.
"That," Kumoku said, his voice filled with pride, "was the Tsuchiya reflex."
Hisashi looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
Kumoku chuckled, taking off his sunglasses. "The Tsuchiyas have always had a knack for speed and precision. It's in our blood. What you just did—reacting so quickly and accurately under pressure—that's what we call the Tsuchiya reflex. You've got it, Hisashi."
She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, a mixture of relief and pride washing over her. "I just... I don't know, it just happened."
"That's the beauty of it," Kumoku said, patting her shoulder. "It's instinctual. You don't think, you just do. And you did it perfectly. I'm proud of you, Hisashi."
Hisashi smiled, her confidence boosted by her uncle's words. They continued their drive, the incident a turning point in her journey. From that day forward, she embraced the Tsuchiya reflex, knowing that she had inherited the family's legendary skill.
As they pulled back into the driveway, Kumoku turned to her, his expression serious yet kind. "Remember, Hisashi, driving isn't just about speed. It's about control, precision, and staying calm under pressure. You showed all of that today."
She nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. "I'll remember, Uncle."
He smiled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Good. Now let's get some lunch. You've earned it."
Days passed, and Hisashi found herself increasingly drawn into the world of drifting, both on and off the track. Each practice session became an opportunity for her to refine her skills and delve deeper into the mechanics of cars. The crew's camaraderie grew stronger as she integrated into their dynamic, and her initial hesitance began to wane.
Hisashi diligently worked on her black S13, her hands becoming familiar with the intricacies of tuning and maintenance. She learned to appreciate the technical aspects of drifting—the way the suspension needed adjusting for optimal cornering, the importance of tire pressure, and the fine balance between power and control.
Rose often joined her during these sessions, offering tips and insights. She wasn't an expert, but being with Alexander, she had picked up a few things from the community. "Remember, it's not just about raw power," she would say. "It's about finesse and precision. Like when you're taking a turn, you need to anticipate the car's response."
Hisashi nodded, absorbing every bit of advice. The once daunting and complex world of cars began to make sense, and she started feeling more at ease.
In the evenings, after intense practice, the team would gather around, sharing stories and laughter. Hisashi slowly opened up, her walls coming down as she engaged in conversations and jokes. Her initial shyness gave way to genuine connections with her new friends. She learned about their different backgrounds and interests, finding common ground in their shared passion for drifting.
She was slowly beginning to understand the path her father had chosen in becoming a driver. Initially, when her uncle taught her about cars and driving, she didn't quite grasp the excitement. However, she gave it a chance to honor her father and discovered she had natural reflexes that her uncle called, "The Tsuchiya reflex."
The Tsuchiyas were a family of adrenaline seekers. Some were formula racers, rally racers, pilots—pretty much anything related to speed and agility. Her mother often called them heart fainters. She didn't like that most of the family was involved in dangerous activities, and it was the main reason her mother and father split when her father chose to be a driver. What was worse, knowing her older uncle Kei endorsed her father into the championships had only intensified the rift.
As Hisashi spent more time with the crew, she started to understand not just the mechanics but also the spirit of drifting. Hen Akoto, noticing her gradual integration, often took time to offer encouragement. "You're doing great out there," he would say, his voice filled with pride. "Keep pushing yourself, and don't be afraid to ask questions."
Hisashi appreciated Hen's support. His guidance helped her grow more confident, both in her abilities and her place within the team. She admired his leadership and the way he inspired everyone to do their best.
At home, Hisashi's newfound interest in cars and driving continued to grow, but instead of poring over magazines and manuals, she spent more and more time with her uncle Kumoku in the garage. It was here, among the hum of engines and the scent of oil, that her curiosity blossomed into a deep passion. Kumoku, after his long days at the restaurant, would retreat to the garage, where he would tune cars or work on special projects for other "clients" who needed a particular part or adjustment. He had built a reputation for being able to source rare components, thanks to Kei, her older uncle, who had connections and access to parts that most people couldn't dream of finding.
One evening, as they finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, Hisashi hesitated before speaking up. "Mo," she began, using her affectionate nickname for him, "can I ask you something about the car's suspension system?"
Kumoku looked up, slightly surprised. Hisashi wasn't usually one to dive into the technical aspects, but he had noticed her growing interest. "Of course, Hisashi. What do you want to know?"
"Well," she said, following him into the garage where the familiar sight of cars in various states of repair greeted her, "I've been watching how you adjust the suspension on some of these cars, and I was wondering how that affects handling, especially during high-speed turns."
Kumoku smiled, a mixture of pride and fondness lighting up his eyes. He motioned for her to join him at the workbench, where he had a few parts laid out. "You've been paying attention, I see," he said, reaching for a wrench. "The suspension system is crucial for keeping the tires in contact with the road, especially in corners. When you stiffen the suspension, it reduces body roll, making the car more stable and giving you better grip in turns. But there's always a trade-off. A stiffer suspension can make the ride harsh and less forgiving over bumps."
Hisashi listened intently, her eyes following every movement of his hands as he demonstrated with the parts. Her questions grew more frequent and detailed as the weeks went on, covering everything from tire pressure to engine tuning. She absorbed everything like a sponge, her natural talent for understanding mechanics becoming more evident with each passing day.
After the practical lessons, they would often sit together on the old, worn-out couch in the corner of the garage, surrounded by trophies, racing suits, and other memorabilia. Kumoku would share stories about her father—how he handled the pressure during races, how he stayed focused under the most intense conditions.
"Did Dad ever get scared?" Hisashi asked one night, her voice quiet as she traced the outline of one of her father's old trophies.
"Of course," Kumoku replied, leaning back and looking at the ceiling as if the memories were playing out above him. "Everyone gets scared, Hisashi. But your father had this incredible ability to channel that fear into focus. He used it to sharpen his instincts and push the car to its limits, just like you did the other day."
Hisashi nodded thoughtfully, the image of her father becoming clearer with each story. Kumoku, seeing her interest deepen, began to share even more personal items—her father's racing journals, his old gloves, and one night, something very special.
"Here," he said, handing her a notebook that had seen better days, its cover worn and pages slightly yellowed with time. "This was your father's. He used to jot down his thoughts, strategies, and even his fears in here. I think you'll find it inspiring."
Hisashi took the notebook with a reverence that surprised even her. As she flipped through the pages, she felt a connection to her father that she hadn't felt in a long time. The scribbled notes, the quick sketches of tracks, and the occasional personal reflection made her feel closer to him than ever before.
Their late-night garage sessions not only deepened her understanding of cars and racing but also strengthened the bond between them. Kumoku saw so much of his friend in Hisashi—her determination, her curiosity, and her natural talent.
"Uncle, thank you for teaching me all of this," Hisashi said one night, her voice soft but filled with sincerity as she closed the notebook and looked up at him.
Kumoku smiled, his eyes warm with affection and pride. "It's my pleasure, Hisashi. You're carrying on the Tsuchiya legacy in your own way, and I know your father would be proud too. And hey, if you ever need a special part, you know who to come to."