I had barely switched off the Evo's engine and opened the driver's door when I heard the hiss of pneumatic tools and the occasional rattle of an impact wrench coming from the open workshop bay. It smelled of an intense mixture of hot oil, rubber abrasion, and the metallic dust from brakes. My father was already standing next to his station wagon, talking to a man who had stepped out of the bay.

  The man wore oil-stained blue overalls, had weather-beaten skin, and alert, friendly eyes, despite the wrinkles framing them. He was middle-aged, perhaps late forties or early fifties, and radiated a calm competence. This had to be Tanaka-san.

  I got out of the white sports car somewhat hesitantly, briefly feeling the gazes of the few mechanics working in the yard on me. I closed the Evo's door with a soft click and walked towards the two men.

  "Ah, Yuki," my father said, turning to me. "This is Tanaka-san. Tanaka-san, this is my son, Yuki."

  I bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you, Tanaka-san."

  Tanaka returned the bow with a nod and a warm smile. "Hello Yuki. Your father already mentioned you passed your driving test today. Congratulations!" His voice was calm and deep. "I'm Tanaka. I was a… good acquaintance of your Uncle Kenji." He emphasized "good acquaintance" in a way that suggested it was more than that.

  I just nodded, still somewhat intimidated by the situation and the impressive backdrop of the workshop. Tanaka let his gaze wander to the Evo standing behind me in the yard. His smile turned wistful. He slowly walked towards the car and placed a hand gently on the hood, as if greeting an old friend.

  "Haven't seen this one in a long time," he murmured, more to himself than to us. "Holds a lot of memories… many long nights, many test drives with Kenji." He sighed softly. "It's good to see it's in good hands. Kenji would have wanted someone who shares his passion. It's a shame he couldn't give it to you personally, but he definitely made the right choice."

  He turned back to me, his gaze scrutinizing but friendly. "So, Kenji's nephew, newly licensed driver and heir to this gem. What do you plan to do with it?"

  I hesitated, glanced briefly at my father, then back at Tanaka. "I… I honestly don't know yet," I admitted. "I still can't quite wrap my head around the fact that this garage… and this incredible Evo now belong to me. It's all still so… new."

  Tanaka chuckled softly, a warm, understanding sound. "I can imagine. Don't worry, it'll come. Let's just start practically, shall we? Let's bring the Evo in and take a close look. It has been standing for a few years now. A complete fluid change and a thorough check certainly won't hurt it."

  I nodded, relieved. That sounded like a plan.

  "A lift is free right now," Tanaka said, gesturing into the large, bright workshop bay. "Drive it in, I'll guide you."

  I got back behind the wheel, started the engine again, and slowly rolled into the workshop. Tanaka stood in front of the lift, giving me precise hand signals until the Evo was perfectly positioned. Meanwhile, my father and Tanaka talked quietly on the side.

  When the engine was off again, the two men came closer. "So," Tanaka said to me. "This lift here is similar to the one in your garage. I'll quickly show you how it works." He explained the controls, how to position the support arms correctly under the car's jacking points, and what to watch out for. "Safety always comes first, remember that." Then, under his guidance, he had me adjust the support arms.

  Next, Tanaka pressed the button, and with a soft whir, the lift, along with the Evo, slowly rose into the air. "Okay, let's take a look underneath," Tanaka said, grabbing a bright hand lamp. Together with me and my father, who followed every step attentively, we examined the car's underbody. Tanaka systematically illuminated everything with the lamp – suspension parts, exhaust system, drive shafts, underbody cladding.

  "Looks surprisingly good down here," Tanaka noted after a while, straightening up slightly. "No rust, no obvious damage. Kenji really preserved it well. Almost like a new car from below." He tapped appreciatively against a control arm. "Solid base."

  We lowered the car again. Tanaka opened the hood and set about draining the old oil and changing the oil filter. He explained every step, had me hand him tools, and showed me what to look out for. Afterwards, we checked the brake fluid and coolant with special measuring devices and filled in fresh oil.

  After a good hour, we were finished. Tanaka wiped his hands on a rag and stepped back to look at the Evo. "So," he said, satisfied. "Now it's technically ready to go. Everything checked, everything fresh. Ready to drive." He paused, his expression turning serious. "However…" He looked first at me, then at my father. "As the Evo stands here, it might be a bit… intense for a novice driver like you, Yuki."

  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I still remember the last time Kenji and I worked on it. We optimized the performance again. I estimate it probably has around 500 HP now. And the throttle response is extremely direct, the suspension rock-hard. This isn't for a leisurely drive to the supermarket." He sighed. "It's simply too much for a beginner, to be honest." He turned to my father. "What do you think?"

  My father nodded slowly in agreement. "I agree with you there, Tanaka-san. I remember clearly how the car felt when I took that lap with Kenji back then. The car is a weapon. For Yuki, who just got his license, it's dangerous."

  Both men looked thoughtfully at the white Evo. I stood beside them, a queasy feeling in my stomach. I understood their concerns all too well. 500 HP? That was a number I only knew from car magazines and games. The thought of mastering that power on the road as a beginner was frightening. It would be suicidal to just try it like that. But what was the alternative? My dream car was standing here, ready to drive, and I wasn't allowed to drive it? My shoulders slumped imperceptibly.

  Tanaka noticed my disappointed expression. A small smile played around his lips. "Hey, don't hang your head just yet, kid." He patted my arm encouragingly. "I have an idea. How about I take you for a spin? So you get a feel for what we mean. So you understand that this isn't a standard car, but something that demands respect."

  My father immediately nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea, Tanaka-san."

  I looked from Tanaka to my father and back again. A demonstration drive? Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe then I would really understand what they were talking about. I nodded hesitantly. "Okay."

  "Perfect," Tanaka said. "I'll just quickly change, driving isn't so comfortable in overalls." He winked at my father. "To the pass?"

  My father grinned broadly and nodded. "Where else?"

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Tanaka briefly disappeared into an adjoining room of the workshop and returned a few minutes later in jeans and a simple T-shirt. "Alright, let's get in." He opened the Evo's driver's door. I sat down in the passenger seat, my heart pounding expectantly. My father took a seat in the back. Tanaka started the engine, engaged first gear, and the white Evo slowly rolled out of the yard.

  As we drove through the last outskirts of the industrial area, Tanaka asked casually, "Tell me, Yuki, what kind of cars have you driven so far?"

  "Um… just the driving school car," I answered honestly. "A pretty normal Toyota Corolla."

  Tanaka laughed softly. "A Corolla, huh? Yeah, then you'll see what's coming. This here is… a little different." He pointed to the additional gauges on the A-pillar. "See the oil temperature gauge? And the boost pressure? The engine needs a little temperature first before you can give it the spurs. But now…" He pointed to the oil temperature, which had reached a stable value. "…now it's ready." I listened attentively and nodded, trying to absorb the information.

  We left the city limits and drove onto a wider country road that wound gently through hilly terrain. Ahead lay the ascent to the mountain pass. The road here was almost empty. Tanaka glanced briefly in the rearview mirror and then at his passengers. "Ready? The car is warm now."

  My father grinned from the back seat. "I'm ready!"

  I swallowed and nodded silently. Tanaka grinned too, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. Then he stepped on the gas.

  It wasn't acceleration. It was a leap. A brutal kick in the back that pressed me into the bucket seat with full force. The landscape outside the windshield blurred into green and gray streaks. The engine roared, the turbocharger whistled angrily, and the Evo shot forward as if catapulted by an invisible force. I had never experienced anything like it. This is nothing like the game, shot through my mind. No reset button, no second chance. A mixture of pure fear and strange fascination gripped me. My hands involuntarily clenched the seat cushions. A curve appeared ahead, much faster than I thought possible. Tanaka stayed on the gas. Panic rose within me. My right foot twitched and instinctively pressed an imaginary brake in the passenger footwell, harder and harder as the curve approached.

  But just before I thought we would inevitably fly off the road, Tanaka braked hard but controlled. The brakes bit down, and I was pressed into the seatbelt. With a quick, precise steering movement, Tanaka placed the Evo perfectly at the apex of the curve. The car stuck to the road like glue, the tires seeming to cling to the asphalt. Barely halfway through the curve, even before it straightened out again, Tanaka floored the accelerator again. The turbo whistled up again, the engine roared, and the Evo leaped forward once more, as if wanting to devour the next straight.

  I cast a quick glance back. My father sat relaxed in the back seat, a wide grin on his face, clearly enjoying the ride. After a few more curves, which Tanaka took with the same breathtaking precision and speed, the road narrowed and began to wind up the mountain.

  "So, Yuki," Tanaka said, his voice calm but focused. "This is the start of the pass. Now I'm really going to step on it."

  Really step on it? I thought, stunned. What on earth was that before, if that wasn't really stepping on it?

  And then I understood. Tanaka gave it everything. The Evo practically flew up the mountain. Tanaka steered with minimal but lightning-fast movements, braking late and hard before the curves, only to accelerate fully again at the apex. The car drifted slightly, the tires squealing softly at the limit of grip, but Tanaka had it fully under control at all times. It was a dance at the limit, a demonstration of skill and the raw power of the car.

  For me, it was hell. I didn't know where to hold on anymore. My head was thrown back and forth with every load change. The constant braking, accelerating, the G-forces in the curves – my stomach rebelled. The short straights between the hairpin turns offered no respite, only another brutal push forward. The bucket seat held my body firmly, but my insides and my head seemed unable to cope with the G-forces anymore. I felt sick, really sick. Damn it, I thought frustratedly, as cold sweat broke out. This is my car, and I can't even sit in it as a passenger without puking.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the road flattened, the curves widened. We reached the summit of the pass, where a small, paved parking lot offered a wide view over the surrounding valleys. Tanaka braked the Evo gently to a stop and turned off the engine. The sudden silence was almost deafening.

  "So?" Tanaka asked, turning to me with a satisfied grin. "Do you understand what I mean now?"

  I couldn't utter a word. With trembling hands, I unbuckled myself, pushed open the passenger door, and stumbled out into the fresh mountain air. "Excuse me for a moment," I murmured palely, walking quickly behind the guardrail at the edge of the parking lot. My stomach finally gave up. That had been too much. Way too much.

  Tanaka and my father also got out. While I tried to calm my stomach, I heard the two men laughing softly behind me. "He still drives like the devil, Tanaka-san," my father said appreciatively, clapping Tanaka on the shoulder. "I think you've gotten even better than before."

  Tanaka grinned. "You stay in practice. But this Evo here… it just tempts you. If you drive it a few times, you can surely push it even more." Both laughed again.

  After a while, as the fresh air and standing firmly on the ground took effect, I returned to the two men, still a bit pale. They were leaning against the Evo, waiting patiently. Their grins were gone, their expressions serious again.

  "Well," my father asked gently. "Everything okay again?"

  I just nodded silently.

  "Do you know what we meant now, Yuki?" Tanaka asked calmly. "This power, this brutality… if you don't know exactly what you're doing, you can quickly lose control of a beast like this. Even on a straight road. And what happens then… hard to say."

  I nodded again. The demonstration had not failed to make its point. I still felt the adrenaline, but mostly the realization of how dangerous this car could be in the wrong hands – my hands.

  "What… what do we do now?" my father asked, turning to Tanaka.

  Tanaka crossed his arms and thought for a moment. "Well, I see two reasonable options for Yuki." He looked directly at me. "Option one: We tame the Evo. I can adjust the software, maybe swap a few parts to significantly reduce the power. We can also make the suspension more comfortable. The brakes are good, they can stay. Then you'd have maybe around 280 HP. That's still a lot, but much more manageable for a start." He added, "And when you're ready, we can always bring it back to full power. That's no problem." The downside remained, of course: it wouldn't be this Evo that Kenji had built, at least for a while. I felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of changing my uncle's legacy.

  Tanaka continued, "Option two: I got a Nissan 350Z in a few weeks ago. Pretty stock, good condition. I actually wanted to convert it into a drift car for myself, but I just don't have the time right now. If you want, Yuki, I'll lend it to you. You can get your first experience with a rear-wheel-drive car, get used to driving, maybe even learn a bit about wrenching on it if you feel like it." The thought of another car, a "practice car," felt strange, but perhaps it was more sensible? "And when the time is right, and you're ready for the Evo, I'll take the Z back. It'll be completely rebuilt anyway, probably with a different engine and everything."

  Tanaka left the two options hanging in the air. My father spoke up. "Those are both very good suggestions, Tanaka-san. And the fact that you would lend Yuki the 350Z is incredibly kind of you. Thank you very much for this offer."

  Tanaka smiled and waved it off. "Oh, nonsense. We're almost like family, aren't we?" He looked at my father. "And don't worry about the Nissan. Even if Yuki has a small accident with it – which I hope doesn't happen, of course – it's not the end of the world. For the drift project, almost all the technical parts will be replaced anyway, and we'll fix the bodywork."

  Both men now looked expectantly at me. I still stood there somewhat unsteadily, the options swirling in my head. Tame the Evo and alter the legacy? Or drive another car and wait until I was ready? Neither felt quite right. It was all too much at once.

  Tanaka seemed to sense my overwhelm. "Listen, Yuki," he said kindly. "You don't have to decide right away. I suggest we drive back to the workshop nice and easy now. No showboating this time, I promise." He winked. "You can think about what you want in peace. Maybe you want something completely different. Sleep on it for a few nights."

  I nodded gratefully. That sounded good. "Yes, thanks."

  "Alright then," Tanaka said, patting the roof of the Evo. "Back down to the valley."

  We got back in, and this time Tanaka drove the car down the pass deliberately gently and calmly, back towards his workshop. The silence in the car after the noise and hectic rush of the mountain drive was almost palpable. I leaned my head against the cool window and looked out at the passing landscape, which now seemed strangely peaceful, while my thoughts revolved around the two options.