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After commuting to school for the past few days and the detour yesterday, Koguma had gotten a little used to using the Cub as her daily transportation.
She woke up in the morning and made her lunch, and then after breakfast, she shouldered her day pack that was stuffed with her textbooks and notebooks, as well as her handmade helmet bag, took her helmet and gloves, and then went to the bike parking lot of her apartment.
She turned on the Cub’s engine and put on her helmet and gloves and thrust the helmet bag into the outer pocket of her day pack as it warmed up.
She could do the procedure up to this point without having to think about it anymore. She put her day pack back on her back, climbed onto her Cub, and left the bike parking lot. From here, it was just a straight run along the prefectural road to school, a course she knew well from riding her bicycle to school until she bought the Cub.
After riding the approximately two-kilometer route to school, she parked her Cub in the school’s motorbike parking area. Next to it was a bright red Cub that stood out even at a distance. It was Reiko’s Postal Cub.
The high school permitted commuting by moped. Compared to the scooter-type mopeds, which occupied most of the motorbike parking lot, the modified Postal Cub was parked at an angle on its side stand, looking unstable with the help of its scratched-up appearance.
Perhaps people thought that it would be terrible if the wind or something knocked Reiko’s Cub over and wrecked their own bike in the process, but the left and right sides of the Postal
Cub always had a bike-sized empty space.
Koguma parked her Cub next to the Postal Cub and, following Reiko’s example, leaned it on the side stand and took out the key.
After turning the other keyhole to lock the handles and taking off her helmet and gloves, she put them in the helmet bag she had taken out from her day pack and slung it over her shoulder.
It was a task she could do unconsciously now. The Cub was beginning to fit into Koguma’s life.
Another change has come to Koguma recently. Her classmate known as Reiko.
Reiko, who was reading a paperback at her seat this morning as well, didn’t even look up as Koguma passed by her with her day pack and helmet bag.
Koguma took her seat. Morning classes began. There was a math quiz. Koguma’s score was published, and she was in the upper-middle of the class. Reiko had the highest score in the class.
The classes hadn’t changed even when she started riding a Cub. If there was one thing, it was that she now had something to look forward to after school.
The suburban shopping center that consisted of a supermarket and home improvement store, which she discovered on a detour about one kilometer from the road to school on her way home yesterday.
While she was thinking about going to the home improvement store today, morning class ended and lunch break began.
Reiko came straight up to Koguma’s seat, her bag with her bento in hand.
“Let’s go, shall we?”
Reiko pulled her arm forcefully, just like yesterday. Koguma hurriedly took her bento and thermos of tea in hand.
Unlike the Cub, she still wasn’t used to this.
In the bike parking lot, they sat on their Cubs and ate their lunches.
Reiko seemed more relaxed on the Postal Cub than in her cramped chair in the classroom.
Koguma also sat astride her leaning Cub, but it was as unsteady as ever. She tried imitating Reiko and sitting with her legs out to the side. It was surprisingly comfortable.
Reiko heartily ate her lunch of sausage and scrambled eggs in a large bread roll as she drank unsweetened carbonated water.
Koguma had her usual white rice and ready-made food. She bought a bunch of ready-made meals when she went shopping yesterday, so today she was having curry, her favorite among them.
But only if it wasn’t cold. She should have stood in line at the microwave today and reheated it.
As before, Reiko chatted one-sidedly. Today, she was talking about her bike touring plans for the upcoming summer vacation.
“I’ve already prepared what I need. I just need to load them up and then I can set off right away. It’s times like these that I’m glad I bought a Cub.”
Reiko said while patting the box on the back of her Postal Cub. Reiko’s Postal Cub was installed with a large box used for parcels, just as it was when it was used in the postal service.
Koguma’s Cub didn’t even have the basket that her old bicycle had, and she carried all of her things on her back, whether it was the things she bought yesterday or for her daily commute to school.
Koguma, who had only been making one-word responses to Reiko until now, reached out and touched the back of Reiko’s Cub.
“This seems convenient.”
Reiko, who had been listening to Koguma talk while smiling, tilted her head and seemed to be thinking about something.
“Hmm, it might be a bit of a waste, though.”
What does she mean by “be a bit of a waste”? What are the downsides of putting a box on a Cub? Unsure of what she meant, Koguma urged Reiko to continue with her eyes.
“When you attach a box like that, people will notice. ‘Hey, you were in that store yesterday, right? Didn’t you pass my car?’ Like that. I think anonymity is one of the good points of a Cub. But if there’s a box, then people will know it’s that person’s Cub.”
That was what she thought too. Koguma liked the fact that the Cub was only as conspicuous as it needed to be, but if she put a box on it, it would attract attention from others, which was something that wasn’t her cup of tea.
Koguma pondered with her head in her hands. Did she have no choice but to carry things in a bag on her back whenever she used her Cub to transport baggage?
Reiko looked at a confused Koguma and spoke.
“Do you want a box?”
Koguma nodded. Reiko took out her phone from her pocket and said, “Hang on a second,” and left the parking lot. After a short conversation where she was talking about something behind the school, she hung up her phone and returned to Koguma.
“Do you want to go on a little detour after school? There might be something good coming out of it.”
Koguma and Reiko were going to have what was called an after-school outing.
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