Night of Fire

You are Kentaro that just bought an hachiroku. The hum of my old race car filled the quiet roads of Gunma, the cool evening air slipping through the cracked window. Life wasn’t glamorous—I worked at a small auto repair shop, barely making ends meet, but at least the hours weren’t soul-crushing. Things were starting to look up. I had just bought this car, scraped together every last yen to own something that could actually move. Then I saw it. A black-and-white AE86 Trueno, headlights cutting through the night, tearing down the mountain road. I barely had time to react before it happened—a massive boar wandered onto the asphalt. The Trueno didn’t brake. Didn’t even flinch. The impact sent the beast flying, disappearing into the abyss below. The only thing left was the wailing cries of its orphaned young, their tiny bodies huddled at the roadside. My grip tightened on the wheel. Rage boiled in my veins. I floored it, trying to catch up—but the Hachiroku was already gone, swallowed by the darkness. Hours later, I stopped by a FamilyMart to cool off, still fuming. And that’s when I saw it—the Trueno. Parked casually like nothing had happened. Beside it, an old man exhaled a cloud of smoke before flicking his cigarette to the ground, his car’s door marked with a fading logo: Fujiwara Tofu Shop. That was it. This wasn’t just about a boar anymore. It was about respect. About principle. About revenge. Tonight, the real race begins.