Super Cub Volume 1 Chapter 2 - I Bought a Cub

 

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When she saw the bikes lined up with their price tags attached to them, all she knew was that she could never afford one with her savings.

In the end, a scooter, which she had wanted for a time on a whim, wasn’t going to change her, who had nothing.

When Koguma got on her bike to end this detour that only made her feel foolish, someone came out from the used bike shop.

A work uniform of white overalls. A shaved head. There were enough wrinkles in his face where calling him an old man was appropriate, but he had small and round eyes like a boy’s.

“Are you a customer?”

He was an old man who spoke little, but his tone was clearer than his old appearance, and his voice was somewhat charming. Koguma, who was the type to pass by without taking the flyers or tissues handed out to her on the street, was about to leave the shop without saying anything, but got off her bike and answered the old man.

“I wanted a scooter, but it seems that I don't have enough money at all.”

When one lived alone, one learned how to turn down peddlers. If the best way was to not respond to them from the start, then the second way was to say that you had no money. Koguma thought that the old man would think that she was just browsing and quickly chase her away.

Surprisingly, the old man looked at her face and then quickly turned his head away.

“Are you alright with a used one?”

The bikes lined up at the storefront were nicely polished. Their model year, mileage, and price were written on their tags.

All of them ranged from tens of thousands of yen to over a hundred thousand yen.

There was something wrong with what this old man was saying. While Koguma wanted to leave right away, she didn’t, because she was starting to think that this old man who was bad at talking to customers and didn’t make much eye contact might be one of her kind. She didn’t spot anyone who seemed like an employee in the shop.

Without saying anything, Koguma waited for the old man’s next words. Even if it was impossible to buy a scooter at this shop,  if she was going to save up her scholarship money from now on and work a part-time job, and then buy a good used scooter at a big bike store in Koufu or Matsumoto, it was better to have some product knowledge.

In that case, maybe a chat with this strange old man wouldn’t hurt, she told herself.

The old man went around to the back of the shop without saying anything, and then pushed over a bike. Koguma understood half of what he meant when he said “Are you alright with a used one?”

This scooter was a two-wheeled vehicle that was different from the sports-type and off-road bikes lined up at the front of the shop, and different from the scooters parked in the school’s motorbike parking lot.

It was a scooter even Koguma was familiar with, the type used for newspaper delivery, food delivery and police work. It was a vehicle called a Super Cub.

She came to look at scooters, expecting something that would add something to her life, not a bicycle that was just a daily necessity, but this scooter in front of her was nothing more than a tool. It was very dirty, as if it had been left out in the open at the back.

The old man wiped the dusty seat with a rag, and then looked at Koguma. Is he telling me to try sitting on it? Koguma thought. The only thought that welled up within her was that there was nothing to be gained by riding such a thing.

The old man seemed to sense her hesitation and spoke while dropping his eyes to the Cub’s meter.

“Ten-thousand yen.”

Koguma patted her jersey pants-clad behind and straddled the Cub without hesitation.

It wasn’t too late to decline after riding. At a price that wasn’t much different from the bike she was riding now, she was beginning to think that it might not be so bad if she could be freed from those tough upward slopes.

She sat down on the Cub’s seat, gripped the handles, and put her feet on the left and right steps of the Cub, which was held upright on the center stand. 

The wind brushed Koguma’s cheeks.

The parked scooter. Windless weather. A wind that shouldn’t be blowing. She wondered what it would feel like to really ride this.

Koguma looked at the old man’s face and spoke.

“I will buy it.”

Right after she said that, Koguma realized something unnatural. She didn’t know how much a used Cub scooter usually sold for, but this was too cheap. 

When she looked closer at the Cub she was sitting on, she saw that although it was covered with dust, the plastic beneath was freshly painted green, and the mileage on the meter showed that it had travelled only a little over five hundred kilometers.

More importantly, the old man didn’t look like he caught a naive sucker. He didn’t meet her eyes and had no amiable smile. It looked as though he was reluctant to sell this Cub.

Koguma asked him point-blank.

“Why is it ten-thousand yen?”

The old man spoke, his eyes still down.

“It caused three people to die.”

Koguma had about as much feelings for ghosts and the occult as anyone else. She had never seen a cursed object, but she always thought it wouldn’t be strange if there were such things. Until now, she had lived avoiding the risk of being the fourth victim in situations like these.

“I don’t mind. I will buy it.”

The old man lifted his gaze and looked between Koguma and the Cub alternately for a while. It seemed like his mind hadn’t caught up with the unexpected response to a business negotiation that should have been rejected.

The old man, who had been looking at both Koguma and the Cub in his frame of sight from a distance, spoke.

“Inside.”

Koguma followed the old man into the shop. It was a surprisingly tidy shop. The old man, who offered a folding chair in front of the table, took out several pieces of paper from the file cabinet behind him. 

Apparently, a scooter wasn’t something you could just buy and ride home like a bicycle. After signing the documents as the old man told her to, Koguma had him prepare the documents to be sent to the government office.

It was at that time that Koguma realized that she didn’t have a scooter license, and so she went to a driving school near Nagasaka Station, which is next to Hinoharu, and took the skills course required for applicants for a scooter license in Yamanashi Prefecture. She was also taught how to take the test and the license issuance procedure at the nearby Hokuto Police Station.

The old man also gave her a free copy of the exam questions, which was slightly yellowed from the sun. It was so old that she had no idea how long it had been in use, but the old man told her that the exam questions had never changed, so the contents of the question books would be the same, whether it was old or new. 

Several days later, at the city hall branch office, Koguma took her new license plate and license card, which were issued much more easily than her license, and took the bus to the bike shop. She planned on going home on her own scooter. In front of the shop, the old man was bent over polishing the green Cub. 

The dust-covered Cub was now so clean that she could hardly recognize it. The reflection of the plating was blinding. The old man looked up and saw Koguma, but, as ever, he didn’t smile.

Koguma handed over the money along with her license plate and each of the documents. She did the registration herself, and the old man didn’t charge her for doing the paperwork for her, but insurance and mutual aid added to the costs, and in the end, Koguma spent almost all of the savings she accumulated from her scholarship.

Astride her Cub, which had been fitted with the new license plate, Koguma looked at the old man. She was going to thank him, but instead she had to ask how to start the engine and how to operate this lever-like thing that she had to press with both feet. 

The old man spoke, covering the words Koguma was about to ask.

“Helmet and gloves?”

The old man was not good at timing his talks with people. Koguma wondered if it was because she was so happy about her shiny new Cub that was now hers that it made her feel a sense of kinship to him rather than annoyed. For now, she would answer the old man’s question before she learns how to steer.

“I brought them.”

Koguma took out her school-issued helmet for cycling to school. 

It was a white helmet with the school’s name on it that looked like it was for construction work. Most of the students who commuted to school by scooter, which was not very many, used it.

Koguma showed him the cotton gloves she bought along with the helmet at the school store. 

The old man said, “Wait a moment,” and went into the store, then came back with something in his hands. It was a white open-face helmet and yellow leather gloves.

The helmet and gloves were offered to Koguma.

“How many people did these kill?”

The old man, who never smiled even once until now, showed an expression that suspiciously looked like a smile.

“Brand new. From a campaign.”

There was a poster in the store that read, “Now you can get a helmet with your purchase.” The swimsuit-clad celebrity on the poster was quite elderly now, as she recalled.

Putting on the helmet and gloves, Koguma started the engine of the Cub with the help of the old man. She raised the stand and was also taught how to put it in first gear and turn the throttle. 

The Cub started to move. While not knowing if she would be able to do it or not, she rolled the throttle back as she was taught, stepped on the gear pedal, and switched to second gear.

The Cub wobbled but succeeded in changing gears, and it sped up to the speed of a bicycle that was being pedalled slightly faster. She was too afraid to go any faster than that, so she was fine with that for now.

The lonely girl with nothing now had a Super Cub.

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