Chapter 26: Volume 1, - 26: The Car with His Future Name
Ren arrived at the Toyota certified used-car dealership in Saitama at twenty past eight, forty minutes before opening time.
The front gate was still locked, but the showroom lights were already on. Beyond the glass, rows of polished cars sat under bright ceiling panels, each positioned at a sharp angle to look important.
The Crown stood apart from the rest.
Its White Pearl Crystal Shine paint caught the overhead lights and carried them across the long bonnet, sharp side creases and curved roofline. A dark front grille gave the car a tougher face than Ren had expected. Clean eighteen-inch alloy wheels filled the arches, reflecting the polished floor below.
A printed card rested behind the windscreen:
2019 Toyota Crown 2.5 RS Advance Hybrid.
Ren stopped outside the glass.
He had seen the name in the dealership file yesterday. He had looked at photos and checked dimensions until the numbers stopped making sense, but none of that prepared him for seeing the actual car taking up space.
The suit had fit inside a garment bag. The ¥900,000 distribution had appeared as numbers on a phone screen before most of it went to his creditors. Even Suite 302 could stay behind a locked door while he went back to his tiny apartment and QuickMart shifts.
The Crown could not disappear into paperwork.
It was longer than some parking spots near his building. The paint was far too clean. The moment he drove it, people would see him and ask where he had gotten it.
’Assuming I ever become brave enough to drive it.’
A staff member walked across the showroom floor, noticed him standing outside, and gave a polite bow through the glass. Ren returned it, suddenly feeling foolish for staring like a kid outside a toy store.
The sound of a motorcycle engine hummed from the road behind him.
The rider pulled into the entrance, stopped beside the gate, and removed his helmet. His short hair was flattened on one side. Dark grease marked the sleeves of his navy work jacket and one knee of his trousers.
Daichi Hayasaka had grown broader since Ren had last seen him properly. Years of lifting heavy tyres, leaning over engine bays, and fighting rusted parts had thickened his shoulders and arms. His hands were rough, his knuckles marked by old cuts and a pale scar across his right thumb.
Daichi looked at Ren once. Then he looked past him, right through the glass.
"That one?"
Ren nodded. "That one."
Daichi studied the Crown for several seconds. His face did not change, but his eyes moved carefully over the panel gaps, wheels, and stance as if the locked glass were a minor inconvenience.
"Your message said you needed help inspecting a used Toyota."
"I thought that was accurate."
"You forgot to mention it was a Crown."
"I didn’t think the model would affect whether you came."
"It affects how annoyed I am that you texted me out of the blue after disappearing for almost two years."
Ren’s reply caught in his throat.
Daichi rested his helmet against his hip. "You dropped out of uni. You stopped answering texts. You hid whatever mess you were in. Then yesterday I get: ’Are you free to inspect a car in Saitama?’"
"I asked if your garage charged call-out fees."
"Yeah, and that made it so much better didn’t it?"
"I was trying to keep it professional."
"You don’t get to turn me into a business contact because that feels easier than calling me your friend."
The words hit harder than the cold morning air.
Ren turned his eyes back to the car. "I knew you’d have questions."
"I am asking them right now."
"And I still don’t have answers that make what I did reasonable."
Daichi’s jaw tightened. "How much debt?"
Ren had spent too long hiding the number to say it easily, even after directing ¥750,000 toward the debt the previous day. "About ¥1.8 million at its worst. A bit over a million remains while yesterday’s transfers process."
Daichi went dead still. Daichi was not shocked by the Crown or impressed by the amount Ren had managed to pay. He was simply still.
"You were carrying that," Daichi said quietly, "and you didn’t call me once."
"I wasn’t going to ask you for money."
"I didn’t say money."
Ren looked at the closed gate between them and the showroom.
Daichi let out a dry, unhappy laugh. "Of course. You decided what kind of help I was allowed to offer before telling me there was a problem."
The accusation was uncomfortably close to something Suzune had already begun noticing.
A dealership worker arrived with a key. The conversation ended without being resolved, compressed into silence as the gate rolled open and the staff welcomed them inside.
The sales representative led them to a consultation table and treated the transfer as ordinary business. Ren presented his identification, the dealership reference, and conditional-estate paperwork supplied by Kanzaki Fiduciary Services.
The representative returned with the maintenance history, hybrid-system report, and battery-health records. Daichi set his anger aside long enough to work.
He checked dates against mileage rather than reading only the summary page. He asked whether the hybrid battery had produced warning codes, whether the diagnostic test had been completed under load, and whether software updates had been logged.
Ren followed as Daichi circled the Crown. Up close, the car felt even larger. The bonnet sat broad before the windscreen, and the rear doors looked longer than the front door of Ren’s apartment.
Daichi crouched beside the front wheel and ran a thumb across the tyre tread.
"Enough depth," he said. "No strange wear. But these are eighteen-inch tyres. Replacing them won’t be cheap."
"I checked the price."
"You looked at one cheap number online and hoped for the best."
Ren said nothing.
Daichi looked up. "Exactly."
A technician moved the car into the service area. The hybrid system activated with little more than dashboard lights, and the silence made Ren’s skin prickle. He had expected an engine note to announce that something this large had come alive.
Daichi listened when the petrol engine started, then watched the display cycle through its checks. He inspected fluid levels, hoses, and connections before asking for the lift.
Beneath the car, the fantasy became metal, plastic covers, fasteners and places where road salt could collect.
Daichi examined the underbody for corrosion, scrape marks, and careless lifting damage. He checked seams, mounting points, and panels for evidence of crash repairs. Back on the floor, he measured the gaps around the bonnet, doors, and boot, then studied the paint under a bright light.
"There’s been cosmetic work here," he said, pointing to part of the rear quarter.
Ren’s stomach tightened. "An accident?"
"Not necessarily. Could be a scrape or parking damage. The service records should match it."
The representative produced the relevant entry: minor body repair, fully documented, no structural damage. Daichi checked it against the panel and nodded once.
He tested every light, camera, lock, and switch. He sat behind the wheel, adjusted the seat, pressed buttons, and checked for warning indicators. In the rear, he inspected the boot floor and spare-equipment compartment for moisture or distortion.
Ren stood beside the open driver’s door, breathing in leather, plastic, and fresh car polish. The interior was not flashy in the way luxury-hotel advertisements used the word. It was neat and controlled, with dark materials and a steering wheel made for someone with somewhere important to be.
For one second, he pictured driving the expressway at night with city lights reflecting off the bonnet.
"How bad?" Ren asked.
"The car?" Daichi asked.
"The cost of keeping it."
Daichi shut the boot. "Insurance depends on your driving history. Secure parking in Kawaguchi won’t become cheaper. It takes regular unleaded, but that doesn’t make fuel free. These tyres cost money. Scheduled maintenance costs money. Hybrid components are reliable until one of them breaks."
Ren looked along the side of the sedan. "And driving it?"
Daichi folded his arms. "You drive a long sedan through a narrow street feeling like the rear wheels are personally trying to scrape a wall. Because they are."
"That sounds manageable."
"You haven’t parked it yet." Daichi turned to the documents waiting on the table. "Who paid for it?"
"The vehicle is being released through a conditional estate programme established by my grandfather. I completed the current requirements, so the programme covered the seller and purchase funding."
"Not your consulting work?"
"No. I earned thirty thousand yen from that."
Daichi looked from Ren to the Crown. "Good. Because if you told me one stationery job bought this, I was going to ask whether you had joined a cult."
"I would hope a cult offered something easier to park."
The corner of Daichi’s mouth almost moved, vanishing before Ren could decide whether he had imagined it.
The technician provided the final report. No active hybrid faults. Battery condition within the certified range. Service history consistent with mileage. Tyres usable. No structural accident evidence. The cosmetic repair was properly documented, and the underbody showed ordinary use rather than neglect.
Daichi read the report twice before handing it back.
"Mechanically, it’s sound," he said. "As far as we can confirm today."
Relief moved through Ren slowly. He had not realised how strongly he had expected the car to hide a trap. An engine waiting to fail, a damaged battery or some expensive defect that would prove he had been foolish to want it.
He placed his hand on the cool roof above the driver’s door. It was real. Not yet his to drive, but real enough to require fuel, insurance, parking and decisions other people would notice.
The representative reminded them that ownership-transfer registration, the garage certificate, insurance confirmation and final handover remained outstanding. The Crown would stay at the dealership until those requirements were completed. Ren received copies of the inspection papers, but no keys.
Outside, Daichi pulled on his gloves beside his motorcycle.
Ren held the document folder against his chest. "Thank you for coming."
"I came because I didn’t trust you to inspect a car alone."
"I assumed friendship was somewhere inside that sentence."
"It was. You buried it first."
Ren lowered his eyes.
Daichi secured his helmet strap, then looked past him toward the Crown behind the glass.
"Mechanically, I approve it," he said. "That doesn’t mean I forgive you."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Ren tightened his grip on the documents.