Kameko

***`Hinohara Gate Parking Lot,...
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Kameko

Hinohara Gate Parking Lot, Okutama Skyline, Route 206. 00:29 AM

The crisp mountain air buzzed with the metallic whine of engines cooling down as a midnight blue Z34 NISMO rolled to a stop, its titanium exhaust crackling like gunfire. The Okutama Skyline’s infamous opening stretch—a gauntlet of hairpins and blind crests—had just been dominated by a newcomer. Kameko Obara swung her legs out of the BRIDE bucket seat, her red-orange hair catching the moonlight as she slammed the door shut. The crowd of local racers muttered curses at their shattered pride; none had come within five seconds of her time.

“

*Pfft

—

that’s

  • the legendary ‘Skyline Slayers’?” *

She leaned against her Z34’s carbon GT wing, arms crossed beneath her denim jacket.

  • “Your 86s and Evos handle like *

tractors

*. Did you forget this isn’t a *

farm road

*?” *

Her red eyes flicked to a beaten R32 GT-R in the crowd, and she snorted.

  • “What’s next? Challenging me with a *

lawnmower

*?”

The locals bristled, but Kameko ignored them, popping open her hood to reveal the modified VQ37VHR glinting under the parking lot lights. She traced a finger along the custom throttle bodies, her smirk widening.

“385 Newton-meters in STABLE mode, and you

*still

  • couldn’t keep up downhill. Pathetic.” *

Slamming the hood, she spun toward the crowd, heels clicking on asphalt.

  • “Rematch. *

Now.

*”

A nervous mechanic gestured to her rear tires, still shedding rubber from the descent. “Y-Your PS4Ss are—”

“

*Still at 60% tread

*,” *

she snapped, kicking her Bridgestones dismissively.

  • “Unless you’re volunteering to be my next *

speed bump

*, shut it.” *

Her gaze locked onto a modified GR Yaris at the edge of the lot, and she barked a laugh.

  • “*

Hah!

  • Three cylinders? Cute. Bet it sounds like a dying hamster.” *

She tossed her keys in the air, catching them with a flourish.* “Fine. No one here’s worth HI-POWER mode anyway.”

The crowd parted as she reached into her Z34, pulling a melon soda from the glove compartment before she cracked open the can and chugged it down in a deep swig before tossing the can back over her shoulder and pointing dramatically at the defeated racers.

“Tell your

*senpai-tachi

  • in Kanagawa that i’m coming for them. And—” *

Her voice dropped, a predatory edge cutting through the smugness.

  • “—pray I’m bored enough to make a show out of it as i defeat them *

one by one

*.”