Chapter 35: Volume 1, - 35: A Parking Space Before a Car
Sunday, 12 March 2023
The digital tyre-pressure gauge sat on the edge of Ren’s low wooden table, its small LCD screen reflecting the pale morning light coming through his apartment window. It was a digital pencil-type gauge with a brushed-metal casing. Compact, precise, and completely useless inside a six-tatami room that contained no car.
Ren picked it up, feeling the cool weight of the metal in his palm.
He felt almost ridiculous holding it. In physical reality, he possessed a tyre-pressure gauge, a folder of paperwork, and absolutely no car keys. On paper, an executive sedan was waiting for him. A 2019 Toyota Crown 2.5 RS Advance Hybrid with pearl-white paint and eighteen-inch wheels.
He leaned back against his futon, staring at the ceiling.
He wanted the keys. He wanted them so badly it made his chest feel tight. For years his life had been defined by cramped train cars, sweat-stained work shirts, and the constant, suffocating humiliation of overdue bills and consumer debt. The idea of sitting behind the wheel of a sharp, modern Crown. A vehicle that signalled authority, elegance, and success on Japanese roads was intoxicating.
He could already picture it: pulling into the quiet parking alley near Tanaka Tailoring, the smooth electric hum of the hybrid motor gliding past the street corner, watching local shopkeepers and passersby turn their heads to see who was driving. For five shameless minutes, Ren let himself enjoy the sheer vanity of it. It wasn’t about operational efficiency or fleet assets; it was about wanting something impressive and beautiful that belonged entirely to him.
A sudden vibration from his phone on the low table broke the daydream.
Ren picked up the phone. It was an incoming call from Daichi Hayasaka.
"Hey," Daichi said, his voice carrying the faint ambient clatter of an auto repair shop in the background. "Did you get the certificate of parking space approval from the police station yet, or are you still sitting in your room admiring your empty key ring?"
"The parking certificate was issued Friday morning," Ren said, shifting his weight. "The dealership already has the required copy."
"Good," Daichi chuckled. "The dealer isn’t releasing the car without a valid shako shomeisho. How’s the lot space you rented near your apartment?"
"It’s five point two metres long and just over two metres wide," Ren replied, checking his handwritten notes. "The Crown is 4,910 millimetres long and 1,800 wide. It’ll fit, but I won’t have much room to waste."
"Which means you’re going to rely on the reversing sensors until you learn the overhang," Daichi said. "Listen, Ren. I’m taking time off tomorrow morning to go to the dealership with you. Don’t think you’re just going to sign three papers, take the keys, and drive off like a hotshot."
"I know the procedure," Ren insisted.
"You know the paperwork; you don’t know cars," Daichi corrected smoothly. "It’s a four-year-old used hybrid that’s spent time sitting. Tomorrow I’m checking the tyres, brakes, underbody, fluids and warning history. Those eighteen-inch tyres aren’t cheap, and I want the hybrid system scanned before you accept anything."
"The service history is complete," Ren noted.
"Good. I’ll still look," Daichi countered. "Paper doesn’t stop parts ageing. If everything passes, great. If not, the dealership fixes it before you accept delivery. Clear?"
Ren let out a quiet breath. "Clear. Thanks, Daichi. I appreciate it."
"Yeah, yeah," Daichi teased, his voice grinning through the speaker. "Just admit you can’t wait to roll up to QuickMart in a Crown and make Endo stare."
"That has nothing to do with it," Ren said quickly, too quickly.
Daichi laughed loudly before hanging up.
Ren set the phone down, feeling a flush of heat in his cheeks. He cleared his throat and opened his laptop to complete the online voluntary auto insurance registration.
As he navigated the insurance portal, the cold financial reality of car ownership reasserted itself. He filled in the vehicle details: 2019 Toyota Crown 2.5 RS Advance Hybrid. Saying the model name filled him with a brief surge of pride, but it evaporated the instant the premium quote appeared on the screen.
Because he was twenty-three and held a standard driver’s licence with no prior insurance history, high-coverage voluntary insurance with collision coverage added ¥14,200 every month to his personal living expenses.
Combined with the ¥18,000 monthly parking space near his apartment, fuel costs, periodic maintenance, and the looming annual automobile tax, the Crown was an ongoing expense, not a free prize. His remaining consumer debt was still very real, and ordinary Crown ownership costs came from Ren’s personal funds, not Kisaragi Business Support.
By noon, Ren stepped out to run ordinary Sunday errands. The sky was overcast, and a cool March wind swept through the residential streets. He carried his laundry bag down to the coin laundromat three blocks away, watching his work shirts spin behind the glass door while he read through the handover checklist on his phone.
Afterward, he walked to the local supermarket, passing a self-serve petrol station near the main road. He stopped for a second, looking at the glowing digital sign: Regular Gasoline: ¥168/L. High-Octane: ¥179/L. ’The 2.5-litre hybrid engine takes regular,’ Ren recalled, making a mental note. ’At least that saves a few hundred yen per tank.’
He bought a bag of rice, eggs, tofu, and discounted pork slices, spending ¥1,420. Returning to his apartment, he cooked a simple lunch, washed his dishes, and hung his laundered shirts on the balcony rail to dry.
While waiting for his rice to simmer, he opened Line on his phone and sent a quick message to Suzune.
Ren: I’ve finished my side of the paperwork. If the dealership confirms everything this afternoon, I’m collecting the Crown tomorrow morning with Daichi.
Suzune: That is great news, Kisaragi-san! Daichi-san is very reliable with cars, so you are in good hands. Good luck with the final handover tomorrow! We are preparing the White Day gift boxes today at the shop.
At 4:00 p.m., Ren’s phone chimed with an official email notification from the Toyota dealership liaison:
Toyota Saitama:
Car Collection
Dear Kisaragi-sama. All registration, tax, and parking verification procedures are fully processed. Your 2019 Toyota Crown RS Advance is cleared for handover tomorrow, Monday, 13 March, at 09:30 a.m. Please bring your driver’s licence, personal seal (hanko), and insurance verification slip.
Ren stood up from his table, his heart thumping against his ribs.
Monday morning. Final handover.
He carefully gathered the required documents on his low table: his driver’s licence, his registered wooden seal, the stamped parking space certificate, and the printed insurance binder receipt. He stacked them neatly inside a clear plastic folder and placed the metal tyre-pressure gauge right beside them.
He cooked a light dinner, turned off the lights, and lay down on his futon at 10:00 p.m.
Outside, a faint rain began to patter against the windowpane. Ren closed his eyes, trying to force his mind to rest. But every time he drifted off, he imagined the click of the driver’s door handle, the smell of fresh leather, and the smooth start button lighting up under his thumb.
He slept badly, tossing under his blanket until dawn, excited like a child on the eve of a holiday.