Chapter 50: Big Sis Cola’s Connections

Part One

The motorcycle shop Yuki mentioned is just around the corner, behind the café.

It’s a repurposed old warehouse, not huge, but with enough open space out front to display several bikes.
Colorful flags touting “No Purchase Tax” flutter limply—no breeze to keep them unfurled.
At the entrance, a fresh banner announces the shop’s grand opening: buy a bike, get a free helmet and gloves.

“Looks like a new place…”

“Mm,” Yuki nods slightly. “Found it on the map.”

“Came to check it out since it’s right behind the café?”

“Mm.”

Yuki’s replies are always brief.
After a few days together, Cola’s getting used to it—not social anxiety like Liuli, just a calm, water-like demeanor.

“Damn, this muscle bike is sick…” As a “guy,” Cola can’t resist a motorcycle’s allure. Right at the entrance, a red bike catches her eye. “This the one those Ghostfire kids love, right? It’s badass… Price… 850,000 yen? Yeah, no way.”

“Can’t ride that one.”

“Eh, even with a license?”

“Moped license only covers low-displacement bikes.”

“You got a license—why not go for a higher-grade one?” Cola asks, puzzled.

“Have to be an adult.”

“Moped license, huh…” She googles it on her phone. “Max speed’s 30 kph? That’s basically an e-bike…”

“As long as no one catches you, 60 kph’s fine, haha!” A hearty laugh cuts in.

Cola turns to see a burly man with a full beard, looking more Mongolian than Japanese—wrinkles suggesting he’s past fifty.

“You the owner?”

“Yup, that’s me… Wait, Big Sis Cola?”

“Cough, cough!” Cola chokes.

“…Big Sis?”

He quickly recovers, laughing it off. “She worked at my old shop. Had a fiery temper, so we nicknamed her Big Sis Cola, haha.”

“She’s grown now,” Yuki says, tilting her head at Cola, nodding slightly.

“Haha, here to buy a bike? The ones out front are too big for you. Low-displacement ones are inside!”

“Not for me, for my friend,” Cola points to Yuki.

“Ohh, thought Big Sis wanted to race, haha,” the man laughs heartily. “So, what’s this young lady looking for in a bike?”

“Cheap, reliable, fuel-efficient,” Yuki replies.

“Suzuki Address 50, how’s this? Easy to ride, feet rest up front, space for small stuff. Popular model.”

“Looks like a delivery scooter…”

“Haha, 50cc bikes are the ultimate workhorse!”

“Mm…” Yuki nods, her gaze drifting elsewhere.

The owner follows her eyes, pointing to another bike. “How about a Honda Cub? The 50cc Cub’s discontinued—new ones are rare.”

Not a scooter, it requires straddling and manual gear shifts—more like a classic motorcycle.
In Japan, it’s common, especially in rural areas, used for delivering papers, mail, or takeout.
The rear rack can hold a passenger (though illegal in Japan) or a massive delivery box, perfect for short camping trips.
The front can fit a basket, too.
It’s Japan’s “national bike,” like e-bikes in %%.

“It comes with a windshield, needs minimal extras, super convenient. Since it’s discontinued, prices are climbing,” the owner says, patting the handlebars. “Loved big bikes in my youth, but now? These small ones are the best—fuel-efficient, safe, can’t go over 60 kph…”

No surprise—the speedometer caps at 60.

“A bike would be handy…” Cola muses. Sure, she can fly, but that burns magic and tires her out. A bike’s way easier.

“Fuel economy?” Yuki asks, running her hand over the seat.

“Less than a liter per 100 km. Super efficient.”

Japan’s gas is about 8 yuan per liter—80 cents per 10 km.
Cola thinks of her old e-bike in %%, costing 2 yuan to charge for just 20 km.

“And bikes can go long distances. Refueling’s easier than charging,” she mutters.

“Haha, Big Sis gets it! Electric’s rising, but gas bikes are still king. Shame they’re fading,” the owner sighs.

“Probably ‘cause they’re too good to break,” Cola teases.

“Haha, maybe so!”

“Mm… can the price go lower?” Yuki eyes the 297,000-yen tag.

“No problem, I’ll round it down—290,000!”

“…Throw in more stuff.”

“Done! Helmet, gloves, plus a lock and rain poncho!”

“Mm… I’ll take it.”

“Great, come register your address and license. You’ll get a temporary plate today—official one’s at city hall later. I’ll give you the forms.”

“Application, sales proof, ID?”

“Exactly! Come this way, young lady!”

Part Two

While Yuki pays and fills out forms, Cola wanders the small shop.
No other staff—just the owner.
But the bike selection’s impressive, including models from movies.
They’re undeniably cool.

“Big Sis Cola, see anything you like?” The owner’s raspy voice comes from behind as she crouches by an off-road bike.

“Lots of cool ones… but they look dangerous.”

“Haha, bigger engines mean bigger risks. You start cautious, but eventually, you chase the speed limit.”

“Yeah, two wheels are less safe than four,” Cola nods, standing and glancing at the counter. No Yuki. “Where’s she at?”

“Practicing in the lot out front, getting a feel for it.”

“She’s got a license, should be fine, right?”

“Haha, moped licenses are just written tests. Real riding’s often different from what you expect.”

“Mm… You’re with the Silver Girls too?”

“Haha, yeah. Even up close, you look just like her…”

“Uh?”

“Tailhara-san kept saying it’s Big Sis Cola herself, back again. But no one stays young forever,” he shakes his head, smiling. “You’re her granddaughter, right? The group needs hope to keep going…”

Cola realizes he doesn’t know about vampires, so she plays along. “Yeah, freaked me out when all those yakuza showed up at my place.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine…”

“Big Sis Cola,” he teases, “want a bike? Take one home!”

“No license, and my place is close to school. Walking’s enough.”

“You’re not her. The real Big Sis Cola would’ve picked one without hesitating,” he chuckles.

“She’s her, I’m me,” Cola grins. “Used to think the yakuza were scary, but you guys seem kinda chill now.”

“Haha, ‘cause it’s not the yakuza era anymore,” he laughs, nostalgic. “Time flies. Back then, I was young, fearless, following Big Sis Cola, carving out our turf. But people age, especially in that life. So many big shots end up alone in their later years.”

“Were you a big shot?”

“Nah, just a small fry,” he chuckles. “No grand dreams. Now, running this bike shop? I’m content.”

“Feels kinda… melancholic.”

“‘Cause autumn’s coming. Today’s August 7—by %%’s lunar calendar, it’s already Liqiu.”

“Japan doesn’t follow that calendar, right?”

“Not much difference.”

“Cola, ready to go?” Yuki calls from the entrance, engine puttering.

“Can you give me a ride?”

“…No.”

“Then I’m walking…”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“No need, right?”

“I’ll walk.”

“Uh, okay…” Cola waves to the owner. “Later, uncle.”

“Come back if you want a bike, haha!”

“When I do, I’ll let you know!”