Stepping onto the race track, with those sponsor decals spotted both in his helmet under his arm, and on his racing suit that fitted him like a second skin, Satoru made his way to his team’s pit place at the side of the blocked street.

It was sunny, there on Monaco, the gentle breeze of the wind rustling his soft, white locks, and with the faint scent of the sea up on his system. Perfect day for another win on his spotless tab. Nothing like the thrill of being in Monaco again, with the roar of the engines, and the crew doing the last check-ups on the car before the race.

He knew the Circuit de Monaco like the back of his hand, carbon printed it in his mind⎯it was his favorite, after all; the narrow start and the tight curves, locals gathering at the side of the streets of Monte Carlo just to see the event, sheer adrenaline on the tense yet exciting air.



It never got old.