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Burning Leaves	By : lyarrah Category: Naruto AU/AR > General Views: 1151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters aren't mine, not making any money off of this. Plagerize me and I'll bite you, though.

Chapter List
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Burning Leaves - 3

The Parking Lot was essentially just a gravel patch that had been especially worn down by tire tracks compared to the surrounding plots of empty land. At one point, years ago, it had been scheduled for development into a drive-in theater. Why the construction had never progressed beyond some dirt and plants being shoved out of the way was anyone's guess, but the kids who hung around here weren't the types who cared.

They just liked that it was big, flat, secluded, and – most importantly – next to some of the longest, straightest stretches of road in the city. Sure, it was a bit out of the way, but that just meant that there was less of a chance of cops or random passerby getting in the way of their fun.

It was the weekend, so the assortment of the evening was mostly nobodies – the random teenagers who couldn't get out on weeknights or otherwise didn't have somewhere better and bigger to be on a Saturday night. They were the sort of teens that spent more time posturing, revving their engines, and talking big than actually racing. The more experienced racers liked to avoid them because they were the cause of most wrecks, and none of these punks had enough money to repair a paint job, let alone a multi-grand engine.

So whenever someone who looked like they really, truly knew what they were doing showed up on a Satuday, the youngsters were up and out and ready like dogs for a steak, their engines roaring impatiently.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The car skidded rather beautifully into the lot, dust spraying whoever was unfortunate enough to have parked near the road. As the cloud settled, a sharp outline of pale violet was visible, illuminated by nearby headlights. The color was broken only by the reflective black of slanted windows and a bold, excessively extravagant, blood red kanji centered in the long hood.

With a futuristic pop and whoosh, the door slid open and up a full ninety degrees, and possibly then some, but by then all attention was away from the door and instead on the curved tan legs emerging from said door. Followed quickly by what was clearly a very nice ass and rack, both (unfortunately) covered by form-fitting black leather in the form of a shirt and jacket.

She stood, leaning one elbow on the roof of her car as she surveyed the onlookers. Her ponytails bobbed just shy of comically as she glanced from car to car, sneering more and more as she obviously couldn't find what she was searching for.

Satisfied that whatever the hell she was looking for was, in fact not there, she leaned back into her car (but not far enough for the closest males) and laid on her horn.

Loudly.

For at least a good fifteen seconds.

Just in case she hadn't already had everyone's attention.

Once the echo of the horn died out, she announced, “I'm looking for a certain asshole!” Raising her voice higher, she shouted, “My height, black hair, name's Nara. Any of you imbeciles heard of him?!”

There was silence in the Lot for a a few seconds. The less cocky kids didn't move at all, while the rest looked on, confused.

“At least one of you idiots must know where that bastard is!” Her temper was rising, and with her volume rather impossibly following suit, she continued, “Tell me and I won't call your fucking parents!!”

It took a minute before someone's door slammed. A guy stood alongside his car, six or seven cars away. “I know him,” he called with a chuckle, a grin wide across half his face. “I'll tell you where to find him... if you beat me in a race.”

She stared for a moment, licking her teeth as she considered the kid and his Chevy “Don't waste my time, brat,” she growled, crossing her arms. “Don't waste my time, brat.” Leaning back in her car she added coldly, "You're gonna race me with that piece of garbage? Puh-lease."

As the crowd started yelling in anticipation, the boy replied with smoothness, “Whatsa matter, sweetheart? You've got to be at least ten years older than me, your car's clearly cherry... Think you can't beat me on the three mile?”

The three mile was a triangular stretch of major road that involved two huge streets and part of the interstate that were all but vacant this time of night. It ended back in the Parking Lot, unless the cops wound up on the tail of either racer, in which case it ended as far away from there as possible while everyone in the Lot killed their lights.

The woman stared at the boy as she pointed to the crowd, snarling, “Get a fucking judge out there.” She drove off without another word, hitting the street before her door had completely shut.

Ready at the light far before her opponent or any spectators arrived, her soft, growling engine overpowered the noises of the January night and the crowd. The car that slid up beside hers was larger, with a louder engine that roared repeatedly, and an even louder sound system that shook both cars and rattled nearby light posts, which electrified the crowd of teenagers more. The woman's car had speakers that easily matched her challenger's current volume, but she kept it off when she was on business.

Racing was part of her business.

The Porsche's engine idled calmly while the Chevy beside her roared constantly. Unlike this knucklehead, she believed in being nice to her engine, and that your bite should always be worse than your bark.

She also believed – strongly – in understatement.

When the light turned green she was through the intersection before the teenager even started moving, despite having a clutch, for the simple reason that she was watching the light while he was trying to look cool for the crowd.

The violet Porsche was going 150mph in less than 30 seconds, its acceleration punctuated by each stage of gears. In that time she'd nearly reached the onramp to the interstate. Somehow, though, the Chevy caught back up by that time.

The sharp curve was recommended at 45mph, but the blonde woman had seen it kill people at even that low speed. There was no question that she'd have to decelerate somewhat to get through it, but there was also a limit to how far she could brake before the kid passed her.

She slowed to 120mph just before hitting the ramp. Then, pushing her foot back into the gas just as she turned the wheel, she stabilized the car by putting the weight on the three “leading” wheels instead of the two that this sort of curve would normally cause the car to depend on.

The Chevy, however, waited till it hit the curve to brake, causing it to nearly skid into the shoulder and quickly fall even further behind. Her lead was over half the length of the ramp by the time she left it for the straightaway.

One and a half miles of practically straight road. This was where the heavier car would have an advantage. The woman's only hope was to stay ahead and hit the offramp before the Chevy...

But that would hardly be a problem. She hadn't even gone into fifth gear yet and she was already back at 150mph. While the red car following her was gaining, it was a slow gain and his engine was at its limit. The lack of modifications on the kid's car left it far less capable than the older girl's drastically upgraded Porsche.

In the end, it was a numbers game, and her car had won well before the race had begun. This kid was so far from a challenge for her that she decided not to go for the last shift, leaving her pedal half an inch from floored and the car steady at 165mph, taking the whole stretch of highway in under 45 seconds.

The exit was the last obstacle. While he wasn't going to get past her there, since his deceleration would take even more effort and time than hers, there was still the risk of crashing on her own. She'd grown up on this track, though, starting driving here over a decade earlier. She knew the best technique for taking the exit, and if she was lucky the kid would try to follow suit – and there was no way his car could handle the kind of maneuver she had in mind..

While she was no drifter, she was still very capable of doing a 90 degree skid in her car, as her entrance to the Lot had shown. Her lightweight Porsche could handle the move and she'd practiced the exact move at least twice as many times than the punk behind her had driven the Three Mile, easily.

Hand brake, clutch, and cranking the wheel, first all the way to the left and then back to center. Foot back on the gas before slamming the handbrake back off.

She'd dropped a gear, but the right angle curve had been navigated before her speedometer could drop back under 100. The car swerved just a hair as it headed back towards the intersection – god, it really had been three years since she'd last driven this, hadn't it? - but then she floored it again, letting up only long enough to shift when she had to.

She crossed the light at under two minutes. It was another 20 seconds before the Chevy caught up. When it rolled into the Parking Lot shortly after, the driver's girlfriend was already waiting for him, cursing loudly and kicking at his wheels and door as he tried to climb out. The whole time she kept threatening to leave him for the girl who'd beaten him, since she was obviously more of a man.

The woman approached the boy as he continued listening to his girlfriend berate him. “So where's Nara, punk? Ready to stop wasting my time yet?”

The kid sputtered, debating between running and just diving back in the car and locking the doors. Between his girlfriend and the older woman he was probably dead meat.

“Man, I don't know anything about any Nara. I just thought you'd be a good challenge!” he admitted, backing towards his vehicle again.

“YOU BETTER BE FUCKING WITH ME, YOU DICKLESS BASTARD,” she growled at full volume, shoving him towards his destination. The crowd was suddenly silent (though someone might have screamed, “fight!”) and pulled in tighter around the Chevy as the teen's back thunked against the door. Her voice dropped dangerously low and she hissed into his face, “Because if you seriously just challenged me and had no idea what you were talking about, you'll find out that my little brother is even scarier than me.”

As the boy writhed in fear, a feminine voice called from the crowd, “Temari?” The woman spun, but not before grabbing a fistful of the kid's shirt to make sure he didn't escape while she was distracted. She saw two people emerge from the crowd, using the man's large size to move people aside, the woman clutching his arm with one of hers.

“I thought so,” the girl continued once she was in sight, playing nervously with her long blonde hair. “He figured you'd be back soon.”

The man beside her finished her thought for her. “We'll take you to him.”

“...He still hangs around with you two, then?” She snorted, turning back towards the kid and pulling him onto his toes to meet her eyes. “Listen, punk. Stick to your own league from now on, or I'll make sure your baby gets totaled next time.”

She was in her car and trailing behind the couple's large truck by the time he thought to stand back up, dusting himself off and plopping weakly back into his Chevy. Over the drone of his girlfriend's berating from the passenger side, he grumbled to himself, “I feel real sorry for whatever guy she's looking for.”
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Burning Leaves