The night is dark. The air is cold. The fog has yet to clear from Reina’s weary eyes. Another early morning, though not by her choice—her mind lost hold of her dreams, and all her tossing and turning couldn’t get them back. Instead, she shakes off the morning rust and begins her Christmas day alone.
Perhaps it’s best for her to think of Christmas as just another normal day going forward. When she was growing up, she always looked forward to it—the family’s American roots meant she believed in Santa Claus as a kid, and she usually got presents to keep the wool pulled over her eyes. She had no idea back then just how fragile her family really was.
The first Christmas without her dad stung... Now, she just feels numb more than anything. She still has things to do and places to be, like any other working day at the shop. Aikawa Auto opens late today, as they traditionally do on Christmas...though there’s not really a reason for that anymore. If anything, she wouldn’t mind heading down to the shop just to have something to do.
But first, a bite to eat.
“Got plenty of rice, at least... I’ll heat up a bowl.” Credit where it’s due, the stuff’s cheap.
Reina takes the chance to do her morning stretches while waiting for her breakfast to cook. She doesn’t get as much exercise as she’d like—it’s hard to find the time and energy for it in the midst of all her work.
That and she’s already carrying two weights around all day anyway. Her aching back is all too eager to remind her.
With nothing left to do, she slumps onto her seat at the table and waits for her food...
*BRRRRING!*
...Until she’s nearly startled right out of her shirt.
“Whuh—?!”
Her heart skips a beat or three before she recognizes the disturbance to be the phone. She hastily gets up and makes for the little nook where it’s hidden.
“Who the hell’s calling at 7 AM...?”
No caller ID on this landline—she’s completely in the dark. Nonetheless, she picks up the phone and answers anyway, curiosity mixed with confusion as she brings it to her ear...
“Mornin’! Sorry to bother ya. This is Mr. Shimizu.”
“Oh!”
The ski resort manager up by Mount Moiwa. She remembers finally getting the distributor cap replaced on his Suzuki a few weeks ago. Hopefully he’s not calling about something else on that old kei truck...
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, not me, but yes. Y’see, I’m friends with the guy who runs this ski center up in Teine.”
“Mhm?”
“We were talkin’, and he’s sayin’ their main lift has a problem. It was workin’ right yesterday, but they tried to switch it on this morning and it was givin’ ‘em trouble. They got a backup generator, but that’s not workin’ either!”
“I see...”
“He’s lookin’ for a guy who can come up and try to get their generator online so they can at least run the lift for the day. But he’s callin’ and callin’, and everybody’s either booked into next year or they’re closed! He can’t find anybody, and they’re supposed to open at 9!”
“And I’m thinkin’... You know, what about Reina? That sounds like a job for her!”
(Is that so...?)
“I do have experience working with generators, actually. You said it was over in the Teine ward, correct?”
“Yeah. He said if they can get the backup diesel goin’, then that’ll literally save the day.”
This has to be a contender for the strangest Christmas present she’s ever gotten. Reina’s eyes alight with intrigue—electric motors are out of her wheelhouse, but a diesel generator? Those are effectively car engines, just without the car. If ever there were a chance for her to prove herself, this may very well be it.
“I hate to be like this, but how much is he offering?”
“Oh, he’s desperate. If you get up there and get it fixed, I think he’ll give a king’s ransom. Without that lift, they can’t open for the day at all; they need a hero!”
Is this the first step? A golden opportunity lies in wait. A chance to buoy Aikawa Auto’s short-term future, and give her the breathing room she needs to start thinking bigger. If she can pull this off, it may finally put the wind back in her sails.
It won’t be easy. The ski resort rests atop the mountains, veiled in a cloak of white. It’s a long, long road to climb...but a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. She just needs to put her best foot forward, and start walking.
“Alright. Tell him I’ll do it. I’ll get over there as soon as I can!”
“You’re a lifesaver, Reina! Talk to you later!”
“Yup!”
And just like that, everything changes. This may be the spark that reignites the flame. Adrenaline pumps through Reina’s body as she hastily gathers her belongings and prepares to sortie for the shop.
“Who was that...?” Turns out the phone call woke up Sami as well. She comes trundling down the stairs still in her nightwear, struggling to keep her eyes open.
“That was Mr. Shimizu. He knows a guy who runs a different ski resort, and they need somebody to fix one of their lifts, so I’m heading out!”
“...O-Oh!” Sami struggles to keep up with Reina, who’s positively racing. She’s got a job to do, and she doesn’t want to waste another second.
“There’s rice cooking over there, but I gotta get to the resort ASAP, so you can have it.”
“I... Alright! But—“
“And I was gonna handle the shop today, but would you be okay covering me?”
“Well, sure, I can. Just be careful!”
“Of course!” Reina double-checks her pockets, zips up her coat and makes for the door.
“See you later! Merry Christmas!”
Sami barely even has the time to wave her goodbye before the door creaks shut. Reina’s silhouette steadily fades into the darkness down the street, leaving her alone with the house, the day shift and a waiting bowl of rice.
“...Heh heh.” Sami smiles and shakes her head. “Ahhh, that girl.”
She really is her grandmother’s grandkid. When the chips are down and there’s only one way forward, Reina hits the ground running with a sprint in her step and a glint in her eye.
“I think she’s gonna be just fine.”
***
The clouds watch from above as Reina makes for the shop. While the rest of the neighborhood enjoys their sleepy morning, Reina braves the snow and biting cold, her heart burning too hot for winter’s grip to contain. The mercury is cruel today, but Reina knows she cannot fail. She must—she will find a way to get this job done.
Her breaths hover in the air, her well-worn shoes pressing tracks in the powder. In this liminal space between moon and sun, only the streetlights are left to light her way—but they give her more than enough to work with. She knows the way to the shop by heart.
By the time she reaches the shop, she’s nearly expelled the cold from her body outright. Now all that’s left is to get the Road Runner warmed up... Her heart skips a beat, but she resolves herself. The Road Runner may be frozen, left forlorn in the shop’s confines...but she’ll find a way to thaw it out and ignite that power hibernating within.
“Okay! Easy does it.” Reina has a habit of punching in the garage code wrong when she’s all hyped up. She makes sure to take it slow and steady this time. The garage door takes it slow and steady this morning as well, the motor shivering as it lugs the gate upward. She’s met with the Road Runner inside, dormant and cold to the touch. It needs her...
And she will rise to the occasion.
Reina wastes no time packing her tools in the trunk, then slotting the key into the door, unlocking the old car with a metallic clunk. It hasn’t been long since she finally got it repaired—and she wasn’t expecting to have to drive so soon after her test run the night before. She’ll be bringing it out of its element once again...but perhaps out of necessity, being backed up against the wall, she convinces herself this time will be different. The Road Runner is not some antique to be coddled... When push comes to shove, the car was built to be driven.
She just has to get it started first.
“Okay, car... It’s cold out there, but I know you can start for me. You’ve got this.”
Reina pushes in the clutch, pulls out the choke as far as it’ll go and gives the throttle an assertive set of pumps. With the key in the ignition, she’s ready to raise the grand beast from its slumber.
“Let’s go.”
Her summons is met with a weak, plaintive shudder from the frozen machine, trying its hardest to obey her command. She knows how tough it is for the old engine, but she won’t give up on it so easily. She delicately works the throttle, trying to get the mixture just right.
“Come on, baby... You can do it...” She can feel the tiniest surges pulsing from the engine, split-second sparks defying the cold. Every part of the car is fighting an uphill battle. It needs Reina to push it along as hard as she can, give it the help it so desperately needs. With measured pumps, she coaxes the car as best she can, her foot rolling over the throttle. Crumbs of snow cling to the pedal and dust the floor below as a reminder of what she’s up against...but she refuses to yield.
“Okay... That was a good try.” Not too long, or she risks killing the battery. She has to keep her cool, ironic though it may seem. Too hasty and she’ll just trip over herself.
“Couple more pumps...”
The linkage squeaks beneath her feet, before the rest of the car drowns it out. Once more, that signature hummingbird starter echoes throughout the garage, straining and struggling with every turn. The headlights dim, and the dashboard with it—just turning the frozen V8 takes all of the battery’s power. The engine demands more gas, more power from the fuel pump, but the tiny little part struggles to keep up. It needs Reina’s help.
“She still needs more gas...” Reina pauses her attempt and lets the engine rest, giving the throttle even more pumps before trying again. She’s already force-fed it enough gas to flood it five times over—it’s just that desperate for fuel when it’s this cold out. It needs more energy than the air can give...but she has to make it work. She just has to.
*RRRrrrrrRRrrrrRRrrr...*
“Come onnn...”
She settles the throttle halfway down, trying to capitalize on any splutter that might emerge from the engine. Beneath her foot the throttle jitters, feeling the army of horses yearning to break free. The battery is waning, but the engine’s trying so hard for her. It has to be close...
*RRrrrrRRR-PUTT!*
“Oh! That’s it!” The engine inches closer and closer by the second, gasps of power escaping from the twin tailpipes. The cold, caged Road Runner still has a flicker of life left inside of it, and with every pump, Reina coaxes the car just that little bit more...
*POP! RRRrrrRRRRMMM-POP!*
Reina lets off the key, trying to rev the engine up to speed...but she comes up just short. The engine rattles for a split-second in its attempt to idle, before falling silent again. Reina doesn’t have the time to be discouraged... Without hesitation, she reaches for the key and tries again.
“Almost... She wants to start.”
Two more pumps of gas, then hold it halfway down. Push the choke in just a little bit for good measure. The starter struggles to get up to speed this time... It sounds like it has the wind knocked out of it. But slowly, surely, it tries to turn the behemoth engine again...
“Just a little more! Don’t let me down!” Reina’s persistence is rewarded with an immediate shudder, the engine finally getting warmer. Drifts of smoke rise from the exhaust. If she can just find a way to give it a little more encouragement...
“You’re almost there, baby! Start!”
Reina eases down on the throttle bit by bit, listening intently for the engine’s response. Her coaxing is finally getting through: another hard splutter jolts the tach from 0 to 1, a few cylinders starting to fire in sync...
“Come on, come on, come onnnn!”
Time stops as the engine tries to idle... Reina rolls her foot on the throttle, but she’s not getting much of a response. The car is half-started—close, but no cigar. Unable to hold its shaky idle, the car falls silent once again...but Reina knows she’s close. The mixture is almost right.
“Okay...” Undaunted, Reina takes a deep breath, and grips the key one more time.
“This is the one.”
The instant she turns the key, she can feel the energy return to the Road Runner—all her hard work and determination has finally paid off. With a monstrous roar, the frozen engine revs up and bursts to life, rattling the very walls of the garage. The tailpipes bellow with cold smoke as the car expels winter’s curse, growling in triumph as the headlights power back on. Winter tried its hardest to contain the beast...but this time, winter failed. The Road Runner is back.
“YES! That’s my girl!” Behind the wheel, Reina is all smiles. She pats the steering wheel, as if congratulating the old girl for a job well done. “I knew you could do it.”
She still isn’t sure why she talks to the car as if it can respond to her. But it seemed to work today, so perhaps she shouldn’t fix what isn’t broken. Maybe the car appreciates it after all.
Of course, this is only half the battle. Now that Reina’s tamed the cold, she needs to tame its partner in crime: the snow. There’s been no shortage of snow since the last time the plows came through—and she can’t afford to wait for their next round. Time is money.
“Time to go to work, car.” Reina wrenches the car into first, finally taking her left foot off the clutch. The engine feels cold, a bit sluggish, but a sluggish monster is still a monster. It rolls out of the parking lot and announces its return, its warcry echoing into the night. They can only go up from here... That’s the only way you’re gonna reach the stars.
“Let’s get this done.”
***
It’s strange to see a city of one million so quiet. The weather and the unofficial holiday prompt many to take the day off, letting nature run its course until the plows come through. Without the morning rush, downtown Sapporo is frozen in time, only the fluttering flakes left to disturb its slumber. The plume of white catches the echoes out of the air, leaving only silence in their place. There’s a certain majesty to this frozen city—it dazzles the eye like a snow globe, preserved in all its beauty for Reina alone to see.
The city will eventually thaw with the rising sun, and the Christmas fervor will flood into the streets, as it always does...but for now, Reina enjoys this mystical little snapshot of her hometown. Not every day you catch a whole city napping, after all.
“So far, so good. Winter’s not so tough, huh, old girl?” The Road Runner responds with a hearty chuff as it saunters up the street. The cold may be its nemesis, but once the engine gets going, all that power thaws it out in the blink of an eye. No waiting for minutes on end before the heater blows hot; it’s already nice and toasty inside.
The familiar sights of Sapporo pass her by like a travel brochure. Odori Park has been transformed into a sea of electric blue, glimmering in the dark to salute her on her journey. The iconic Sapporo TV Tower stands tall in the distance, dressed in gold for the holiday. 7:25, the big clock says—Reina has time, but she’s not slowing down.
Soon enough, the university comes to greet her as well. She’s had to get used to taking the train here these past couple weeks...
“...Heh. Not today.”
It does feel weird soldiering on to the north—it’s not a part of town she visits all that often. When your wallet shrinks, so too does your world; you need to have an excuse to turn off the beaten path, to deviate from your routine, or you’re just not making financial sense.
Of course, Reina has a very good excuse this morning.
The downtown lights fade behind her, unfamiliar territory ahead. This part of Sapporo really doesn’t stand out from the others...but it’s not the city itself that has Reina’s attention. It’s the snow-capped mountains looming large to the west, where the city abruptly ends and the untamed wilderness begins. As she drifts closer and closer to the edge of the city, they rise taller and taller before her, as if condemning her for her arrogance. She really thinks to tame the mountain pass in an antiquated American car?
They’d like to see her try.
“Yup, that’s the road...” Reina tightens her grip on the wheel. “Here we go.”
Already the snow is starting to deepen. The Road Runner hesitates, kicking up drifts of powder behind it; Reina shifts down a gear to give the wheels more torque. Seems the buses and the plows haven’t started up the road yet—the resort doesn’t open for another hour and a half, so she’ll have to beat them up the pass. The last remnants of Sapporo disappear into the rear-view mirror—from here on out, the mountains are in control.
The altitude rises, and the mercury drops. Naked trees line the barren path forward, offering broken glimpses at the horizon beyond. The Road Runner is a crimson intruder in this panorama of white...and the mountain does not take kindly to its disturbance.
“Whoa, easy, easy...!” Reina has to fight the steering wheel through the hairpin turns, the tires carving up fresh powder as they claw and scrape for traction. The mismatch is bluntly obvious: the Road Runner was never meant for roads like these. But Reina has to have faith in the car and in herself—play to its strengths, and she just might make it up.
(I’ve got lots of low-end torque, and I’ve got a limited-slip for traction... If a big, lumbering bus can make it up this road, then so can I!)
The clouds above intensify their assault on the ground below, sending more and more flakes down to try and stop her. The car has its hands full fending off all the snow, the old windshield wipers leaving streaks in their wake. Every last mile an hour is precious, but she doesn’t dare go too fast—with all the tight turns and tree-lined hills surrounding her, she has to thread the needle between speed and control. She needs surgical precision and the patience of a saint.
A long straight belies a tricky ascent. Now the mountain is getting serious; as Reina tries to put the pedal down to build up some speed, snow and gravity conspire to drag her back down. The Road Runner struggles to find its footing.
“Come on, baby, we can do this...!” Reina pulses the throttle, feeling the ground below for soft spots. Trails of powder shoot from the rear tires, the engine revving in frustration. The one thing she can’t afford to do is stop—not here, not now.
With effort, Reina slowly claims some ground up the straight, working her way into a long left-hander. She can see the face of a nearby mountain greeting her in the distance; she doesn’t afford herself even a moment to look at it. She watches the road like a hawk in case it tries to snare her again.
The road swing wide before tightening back up again, forcing Reina to slow down and abandon the momentum she built up. Signs warn her of a hairpin turn ahead. She’s caught in a catch 22 here: carry her speed and risk the car sliding out from under her? Or slow to a halt and risk getting bogged down? She has mere seconds to mull her options...but in the end, it’s the alarming guard rail at the butt-end of the hairpin that convinces her to slow down. She feathers the brake well in advance, hugging the edge of the road to prepare for a wide entry into the turn.
Easy, she coaxes. Easy...
“Now!”
She blips the brake and orders the wheels to the right...but to her dismay, the Road Runner loses its grip on the powder below, and understeers into the corner. She drifts wide of the apex and toward the runoff on the shoulder of the turn—and with it, the tires trudge into even deeper snow, left by the plows the previous night.
“C’mon, turnnn...!”
She tries to feather the gas, working both pedals in a delicate dance, but she’s already lost her speed—before she knows it, the speedometer’s already hit 0. The car’s almost pointed the right way, but the snow leaps at the chance to trap her...and sure enough, a sickly whirring noise forces a grimace on her face. She’s stuck.
“Shoot. Okay, what are my options?” She mustn’t panic. There has to be a way out of this.
Just gunning it isn’t working. She tries to brute force her way out of the rut, but the tires can’t find the grip—she gains inches on the road, only to lose them as gravity drags her back down. Plumes of snow cascade off the ground and into the trees behind her. She tries to turn the wheel back and forth to search for traction with the front tires...but they just keep slipping and slipping. At this rate, she’ll only bury herself deeper.
She lets off the throttle, the disgruntled engine idling. The road taunts her—she can see the other side of the turn right in front of her, but the snow grips the car like a vice.
“I might be able to rock my way out...but I can’t back up too far.”
Reina shifts into reverse, pulsing the throttle to feel for grip. She finds just enough to back up a few inches, using her tracks as a groove. With what momentum she scrapes together, she turns the wheel slightly to the left, and carves the tiniest runway for the tires in the deep pocket of snow. She’s staring the road straight-on now. She’ll have to make this count.
“Here we go...”
Slowly, Reina eases down on the pedal. The Road Runner shudders in place, trying to find grip somewhere in the snow. Despite all the car’s power, it can’t break through the great white shield; she’s forced to get as far as she can before reversing back on her runway. The clutch absolutely hates her for it...but she has to push those worries aside for now. She has to have faith the car will hold together.
“Come on, baby. Almost!” One more time the tires spin, desperately working against the snow and ice. Just a little further this time... A little closer to freedom. But the snow just won’t relent from the tires that easily; she has to back up and give it one more go. The car whines as she reverses one more time.
“I know, car, I know...but we’re almost outta this!”
(If I can just get one rear tire back onto the road, I might be able to torque my way out. I’ve just gotta get there...!)
It’s a game of inches, and Reina puts herself right up on the edge, pushing the car as far back as she’s willing to risk it. She thinks she still has grip from here... She has to.
Reina shifts into first one more time, her knuckles white. She grits her teeth, and pumps.
“Come onnnnn...!”
The extra breathing room gives the car a little more speed this time. The front tires finally breach the tall snow, and their momentum helps carry the car most of the way out. In a split-second move, Reina steers the car to the left, trying to swing the rear of the car around so that she at least gets one tire out of the rut...
“Okay, there we go! That’s one tire out, I think!” She pulses the gas to confirm. She’s got one of the two rear tires freed at last...and that just might be her ticket out of here.
“Limited-slip, don’t fail me now!”
Clara probably never expected that aftermarket mod to come in handy like this. It was meant for the race track to help the Road Runner’s cornering—as much as a land barge’s cornering can be helped, anyway. But here in the snow, it offers her a critical advantage that no ordinary muscle car can boast. As Reina bears down on the throttle, the engine’s monstrous torque goes straight to the one good wheel.
“That’s it, car, you can do it! Almost free...!” She can feel the car inching forward, desperately trying to dig itself out. She urges, coaxes as much as she can, slowly adding more and more throttle until the whole car is vibrating around her.
This is the first time in years the Road Runner’s been put through its paces. The last time Reina called upon it, it couldn’t pull through for her...but this time, it resolves to get the job done right. It revs higher and higher, calling upon those thousand-plus horses to give Reina the power she needs. It won’t let her down again...!
“Just a little more! Come on!”
In spite of the elements, and in spite of everything holding it down, the Road Runner perseveres. The tires kick up a towering cloud of snow as the left-rear tire finally breaks free, sliding out of the rut as Reina furiously wrenches the wheel. The tires spin and scrape clumsily on the road for a heart-stopping second, but with her delicate footwork, Reina corrals the car and gets it moving once more!
“YEAH, baby! Let’s go!” She is all too glad to leave that hairpin behind. The car trundles back up the road with a full head of steam, finally earning a chance to breathe after its struggle to break free. By her estimate, Reina is around halfway up the pass now... She’s come this far. She refuses to back down now.
“Not much farther now. We’ve got this, car... I’m not gonna let this pass us by!”
Lesson learned: the car plows like a tractor in these conditions. What little brake she applied was still too much; she’ll need to do better than that on the next hairpin turn. She has a couple straight sections for breathing room, but she drives on edge, knowing the road could tighten back up on a whim. The higher she goes, the higher the stakes climb with her.
She can tell she’s getting close: little landmarks crop up in the distance as the resort creeps closer and closer. She spots one of the ski lifts peeking above the mountain tops, buildings dotting the mountain face ahead. The sun is just starting to rise in the east, seemingly emerging from the city itself as she looks on from above.
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Time marches on, but so does she.
The mountain pass commends her for her bravery...but it’s not done with her yet. It has one more obstacle to throw at her before it will grant her passage. Two narrow turns, a right and a left, stand between her and the top of an oncoming hill. There’s no shoulder to bail her out this time—only her and her lane, with minimal room for error.
“Okay... Have to keep the speed up this time. I’m not making that mistake again!”
Reina makes her approach. The tires threaten to slip, pushed to the edge of their traction, but she trusts them to pull through. The first turn comes rumbling in, and already she has her hands full. Speed is a delicate thing—her feet work the throttle and brake with pinpoint precision. All those days spent flying around the track with her mom; all her days spent leaning how to push the Road Runner to its limit... This is where it all comes to a head. The low speed does this mountain climb no justice: it is perhaps the most demanding drive ever asked of the old ten-litre terror.
And yet, it refuses to yield.
“That’s one turn done...!” Reina can finally point the wheels straight again, ordering the car up the switchback with an assertive pump of gas. She gets a good, long look at the turn ahead...and she knows she has to nail it. She can’t be too fast nor too slow; if she wants to get this lumbering beast up the hill, she’ll have to negotiate the turn oh so exactly right.
“Now!” Reina eases off the throttle and blips the brake to keep the front under control. The same tactic as the last hairpin...but she knows better this time. She has a better feel for how much brake it needs, how much gas, how much to turn... She makes a point not to overload the car this time. Once her speed is where she wants it to be, she smoothly steers wide, applying just enough throttle to keep the rear wheels driving. Her heart skips a beat as the rear end threatens to step out from under her...but she manages to corral the car just in time. She’s finally getting it to turn...!
“That’s it, almost there...!”
She walks a tightrope between understeer and oversteer, between spinning the tires and locking them up. The seconds drag on longer than she can stand, the car too fast and too slow all at once. The slow, arduous climb up the second turn has her on the very edge of her seat...
But finally, the road relents. Her eyes widen to see the straight shot ahead, the final stretch to the ski resort—she’s made it at last!
“YES!” Relief washes over Reina’s sweating face. Without a doubt, this was not something she should ever have done—the Road Runner has absolutely no business being up here in the snow, unsuited and unsophisticated as it is. This square peg should not have fit in that round hole. Reina was supposed to stay down.
But through sheer stubbornness, she braved the elements in her own eccentric way. They couldn’t hammer her down this time.
Reina’s never been happier to see a parking lot in her life. It’s full of snow, but she doesn’t care. She finds a spot to back the Road Runner in, and gives that V8 a well-earned break. For its first serious workout in a while, it performed admirably... You can always count on an Aikawa motor.
“Now...” Reina gathers herself, retrieving the key and opening the door. “Let’s get to work.”
She’s found herself in a pretty neat place. This was one of many venues used for the Winter Olympics, hosted right here in Sapporo back in 1972. Little remnants of the Games dot the landscape, from old lodges and judging houses to one of the Olympic cauldrons, standing tall atop the snow. With the sun just peeking its head over the horizon, Reina’s almost tempted to stop for a moment and take in the sights to calm down after her long journey.
Before she can even open the trunk and whip out her toolbox, though, the resort manager is already rushing down to meet her. That must be who the other car in the lot belongs to.
“Morning! You’re the mechanic Mr. Shimizu mentioned to me?”
“That would be me! My name’s Reina Aikawa. Pleased to meet you!”
“Kazumi Yukimori.” The man hastily extends his hand, and Reina obliges.
“Really appreciate you coming out on short notice like this...” He has to stop himself to catch his breath, the morning’s toils clearly wearing him out.
“Sorry. Been running all over the place today, heh. Bit short of breath.”
“Not a problem! I get that.”
For a moment, he was too winded (and his mind too occupied) to notice—or care—about how unorthodox his mechanic is. Now that he’s caught up with himself, though, he gets a closer look at her and her car...
“...Wait. The plows haven’t even come through yet. How the hell did you get here so fast?”
He finally notices the rim of snow clinging to the Road Runner, causing Reina to give him a cheeky grin.
“I— You got all the way up the pass in that?”
“Yes I did!”
“You’re insane!”
“Yes I am! I think every mechanic’s a little nuts, kinda.”
“Well, uh, I’m not complaining!”
Pleasantries dealt with, the manager motions for Reina to follow him, their shoes crunching the fresh powder below. It’ll be a busy, busy day on the slopes—Christmas is always packed up here, but with all the fresh snow that fell the day and night before, skiers in droves are soon to ascend up the pass. He needs that lift back in order right this minute.
“Here, let’s take this.” He directs Reina to one of their working cable systems, used to connect the two separate lodges on the mountainside. “This’ll take us right to the broken lift. Better than walking.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not try to drive up all that.” Reina’s happy to let the gondola do all the work for her. They file inside, and within seconds, they’re whisked away into the air. That affords the manager enough time to give Reina a sitrep on the resort.
“So as you can see, we’ve got a lot of different lifts here. This one connects the building at the base of the mountain to another ski center about halfway up; we’ve also got a lot of lifts that go to all our side runs.”
“The one that’s broken, though, is the one that goes to the summit.”
“Ooh. Yeah, that’s not great.”
“Yeah. Without that, we don’t have some of our most popular runs. We can’t access some of the other lifts from here, either—we have a couple you can only get to from the summit.”
“So how do these lifts work? Electric with diesel backup?”
“Yup, exactly. Our lifts have two layers of redundancy. If the electric motor goes out, the backup diesel’s supposed to kick on, and that can run the lift in its place. If that goes down, we have tiny little emergency generators, but those aren’t meant to run the lift for the whole day. They’re only meant to cycle the lift once or twice so that anybody who’s on the lift can get back off.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Are any of the other lifts having problems, or is it just the one?”
“Just the one, as far as we know. All the others are running on electric right now.”
“We’re not sure what happened to the electric on the summit lift, but I asked my usual guy, and he said he’s swamped. He won’t be able to take a look at it for a few days, at least.”
“So for now, I’m just looking to get that backup diesel online to fill the gap.”
“Has it given you trouble before?”
“The diesel’s old. We run tests every so often, and it was working the last time we tested it, but we thought it might need some maintenance soon. Just bad timing.”
“When we tried to run it this morning, it started up, but then it stalled out right afterward. We haven’t been able to get it to start back up after that.”
“Huh. Gotcha, gotcha...” That immediately gets the gears in her head turning. If it at least fired up, then she might be able to fix whatever stalled it... She doesn’t have any specific replacement parts, but she might not need them if the culprit is something simple.
“Alright... I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get it running 100%, but I’ll give it my best shot!”
“That’s all I can ask for. Thank you so much for this!”
“No problem!”
She can see the manager’s face gradually softening, the nerves fading from his weary eyes. Just having somebody out here to work on the engine for him is putting him at ease. She’ll make sure his faith in her isn’t misplaced.
The lift touches down outside the ski center, the altitude already granting Reina a stunning view over Sapporo. Maybe if she gets the summit lift up and running, she’ll treat herself to a view from the top as a reward.
“Right over here.” Reina follows close behind the manager, shivering in the brisk morning wind. A short walk brings them to the summit corridor, where the lift and its chairs stand suspended in silence. Mount Teine is far from the tallest in Hokkaido, but it’s still plenty daunting from where Reina stands. In a way, by conquering the diesel engine, she’ll be conquering the mountain too.
But she can’t get ahead of herself just yet. She’s still got work to do.
“Okay, lemme just...” The manager hands her a crowded key ring. “There you go. That’ll get you into the engine room—the electric motor and the backup diesel are both in there. If you need anything from me, I’ll be in the main building just over there; we’ll have some other employees showing up soon, so you can reach out to them too. Sound good?”
“You got it. Talk to you in a bit!”
“Best of luck!”
With that, the manager scurries off and leaves Reina to her devices. She’s got 45 minutes before the customers come a-knockin’. Time for her to show the world what she’s made of.
“Aaaalright. Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” Reina unlocks the door to the engine room and finds the light switch inside; with a click, the old lamps overhead flicker to life. Now she finally has a good look at the scene of the crime...
“Yup. This all checks out.” It looks every bit as cramped and claustrophobic as the generator room back at the shop. Nothing she hasn’t seen before.
Straight ahead of the door lies the electric motor, cold and silent. She might circle back to it later if she has the time, but for now, her priority is the diesel. That old thing sits dormant in the corner of the room, a short walk from the electric primary. It’s not nearly as big as the one they have at the shop—understandable, since it only needs to power the lift—but it’s still quite the labyrinth under the hood. She’s never worked with this specific brand of diesel before...but she’s not too worried about the specifics. An engine is an engine.
“Okay. Lemme just find the panel for this...”
Being an older model of generator, she finds the rather unsophisticated panel right beside the walkway. Conveniently, she also finds the owner’s manual sitting on a shelf nearby. Credit where it’s due, whoever does maintenance on this thing keeps the area nice and tidy. That manual will be a nice reference for if and when she gets into the nitty gritty bits, but for now, Reina just wants to see if she can replicate the behavior the manager described. She sets her toolbox down nearby, takes a deep breath, and goes to work.
“So it started, then stalled and wouldn’t go again, huh...?”
Reina acquaints herself with the panel. Being a diesel designed for cold temperatures, it comes with heating elements to thaw out the fuel, oil, coolant and other moving parts. Reina cycles the power on, and with it, the preheat lamp lights up to tell her the glow plugs are working their magic. Once it turns off, it’s ready to start.
...Or try to.
“Alright, let’s see how she does.”
Reina twists the switch to START, and immediately she feels the floor jitter as the big diesel starts turning. From the manager’s description, it had enough heat and battery power to start once, so she doesn’t expect that to be the issue...
And indeed, the engine turns over spiritedly. The starter and the battery work in perfect harmony to crank the diesel over...but something somewhere else in the chain is sabotaging their efforts. Twenty seconds pass without so much as a sputter.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Reina relents. “So it’s not a cold start issue, from what I can tell. The block heater and the glow plugs both seem to be working fine. The battery has plenty of charge too...”
That’s one item ticked off her checklist. Now is when the guessing game begins... The clock is ticking for her to find the fault before it starts digging into the resort’s profits for the day. But Reina accepts the challenge; she won’t let this sick old diesel stop her.
That old rule echoes in her head:
(An engine needs three things: air, fuel and spark. If it has those three things, it runs.)
Based on the symptoms, she thinks it’s unlikely the spark is the problem. The manager didn’t say how well the generator ran, but if he didn’t specify, then it was probably running fine before the issue cropped up. Spark plus, coil wires and other electrical components do corrode and wear down over time, but it’s more of a slow burn rather than a big blast. The manager would’ve noticed the generator running rough beforehand if the plugs were fouled up or the ignition coil was on the fritz.
There is a chance something in the electrical system broke outright, like a relay somewhere or something, but unfortunately, that probably wouldn’t be fixable on the spot. That said, she considers those scenarios pretty uncommon. What are common on diesel generators like these, are fuel issues.
“Now she doesn’t wanna go at all... That makes me think something’s up with the fuel. That tends to happen with generators, especially when they just sit around idle like these...”
Any disruption in the fuel supply can spell trouble for the generator. Reina figures that’s the best place to start looking. There are a lot of things that can immediately disable an engine, but few things do it quite as effectively as robbing it of its fuel.
Reina starts with the basics. There’s fuel in the tank, obviously, and while the fuel filter is rather old, it doesn’t look dirty enough to give the generator any serious trouble. Those parts pass the test...and with those checks done, she moves on to the next piece of the puzzle: the fuel lines.
“Okay, what have we got here...?” Reina’s glad she brought a flashlight. She gives the cramped compartment a thorough comb-over, like an investigator at the scene of a crime. Where did this engine go wrong...?
“...Hm?”
Reina swears she saw a faint little glimmer as she ran her flashlight across the supply line. She tries to retrace her steps, scanning the hose for a potential leak...but she can’t seem to find it again.
“I know I saw something...” If the light won’t help her, she’ll just have to rely on her other senses—namely, her touch. Reina shuffles herself up to the fuel line and runs it over with her hand...and right around the start of the line, close to the connection with the fuel tank, she feels something rough on her finger.
“Ohhhh...” X marks the spot. She shines the flashlight and finds what she was looking for: a tiny little crack right along the top of the fuel line.
“Well, hello there! I think that’s our culprit.”
Reina double-checks to confirm there’s nothing leaking anywhere else in the fuel line, and sure enough, that’s the only leak she can find. Quite the amusing coincidence that the generator ended up with the same kind of issue as the Road Runner—albeit with much different symptoms.
“I think that explains why it started and died right after: it had fuel in the lines from the last time it ran, but then it started sucking in air, and once the air bubbles got to the fuel pump, that’s when the engine conked out.”
“This little crack must’ve developed after they last ran it, then. He was right: it really was a case of bad timing.”
“Now how do I wanna fix this...?”
Like with the Road Runner’s radiator hose, it’s much more sensible to replace than it is to repair—especially if you need the generator going all day long. But she does think a quick and dirty fix is feasible here: the leak is right toward the end of the line. The hose has just enough slack that she can cut off the end and reattach it, doing away with the leak entirely.
“Hah. Never pretty, but it works!”
Just to be safe, she goes ahead and gives it the quick fix special: a healthy coating of insulating tape. It’s an ugly fix, but it’s not meant to last long—she’ll be recommending the manager get a new hose immediately. They should stock this size in town.
“Okay... That stops more air from getting in. Now I just have to get all the air out.”
It’s an arduous process, but straightforward at the very least. Reina first needs something to clean up the mess she’s about to make; she resorts to a dirty rag in her toolbox. She’ll have to throw it out later, unfortunately—it’s about to get soaked with fuel.
“There we go...” Reina procedurally bleeds the lines across the fuel supply chain—and sure enough, she’s met with a sputtery mix of air and fuel coming out of the system. The rag below is defiled. Eventually, as she primes the engine, the air is cycled out of the system and replaced with a clean, unbroken stream of fuel. That’s about as good as she’ll get it; her jerry-rigged fix will have to hold up for now.
“Ooookay,” Reina chuffs as she stands back up. “I think she’s ready for another try.”
She’s gotten herself plenty dirty from all the work, but she thinks it’ll all be worth it once she hears that engine sing. She hooks the fuel lines back up, helps herself to her feet and works her way back to the panel. One more preheat cycle, just for good measure...
“That should do it.” Reina blooms with confidence. “Here goes nothing!”
One more time, the generator stirs. All that undiluted fuel has an immediate effect on the thirsty engine: a series of sputters and half-starts rock the whole housing. It’s trying its best to shake off the cold and fire back up. The seconds pass...
“Come on!”
Slowly but surely, the generator grumbles back to life. A loud roar engulfs the whole room, unrefined and unsophisticated...but running nonetheless. The day is saved!
“Alright! That’s what I’m talking about! Sounds like that was all it needed.”
Reina lets the minutes pass, the generator steadily heating up. Were there any leftover air in the fuel lines, it likely would’ve stalled by now; Reina’s confident now that she got it all out. After bringing the generator up to its usual operating speed, Reina can finally call her job done for the day.
It took her every bit of time she had, and tested both her mechanical and her driving skills, but in the end, Reina is victorious.
“Man... That feels good. That feels so good.”
Reina observes her handiwork for herself: as she exits the engine room, she can see the lifts starting to cycle through the terminal, ready to ferry customers and staff to the top of the mountain. Once she’s done debriefing the manager, she might just take a ride herself.
She doesn’t have to travel far for that. The manager is already rushing his way there.
“The generator’s up?”
“Up and running! There was a crack in the fuel line, so air was getting into the fuel. Stopped the whole thing dead.”
“How’d you fix it?”
“Well, uh, ‘fix’ is a bit generous. I cut off the part of the fuel line with the leak in it—and then I wrapped a whole ton of tape around it just to be safe. That’s not gonna last you forever, so I’d recommend ordering a replacement line ASAP.”
“Gotcha, gotcha...but it’ll at least last for the next few days, right?”
“It should! If you really wanna, you can substitute a fuel line from one of the other units you’ve got around here—but then, of course, you’d be down a different generator.”
“I don’t think you’ll need to do that anyway. Get a new line in there and you’ll be just fine.”
“Can I go ahead and have you order that for me? You obviously know what you’re talking about, so I’m a lot more comfortable just having you do it.”
“Sure! And I can go ahead and install it for you later, if you want.”
“That’d be lovely.”
Words fail the manager to describe his thanks. Relief washes over his face in waves—the Christmas rush is already upon him, so these repairs came not a second too soon.
“Looks like we got it running just in the nick of time... We’ll probably have to delay the summit runs a little bit, just to run our safety checks and get a quick groom done, but at this point, I’ll take it. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“I really can’t thank you enough for this!”
“Hey, no problem! Thank YOU for taking the gamble on me.”
Of course, Reina is not above her base urges. She smiles innocently, not wanting to come out and say what’s on her mind, but hoping the manager will get the memo anyway. Thankfully, he does.
“Well, for today’s service...” The manager is well aware how much he really owes Reina. His usual rate wouldn’t really suffice...but perhaps this will.
“Here you go.” He hands Reina a check...and her eyes bug out when she reads the total.
“I— You’re kidding!”
“Compared to what I would’ve lost today without you, this is cheap. You’ve more than earned it, in my view. Go ahead!”
Reina can feel her head starting to spin. She was told the manager would be generous, but this is far beyond what she was expecting. Is it really alright for her to accept this...?
(Gah, no! Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, dummy!) If he’s offering, he’s offering, she reasons to herself. And as he said: she’s earned this.
“Thank you so much!” Reina bows deep in gratitude. “This helps me out so much more than you realize.”
“Well, I’d be happy to pay you again once you get that part ordered and installed. Maybe I’ll call you over for our next maintenance run too!”
“Heehee. I’d be happy to!”
Reina has no idea what to say, what to feel, what to think at this point. Her whole day has run the gamut of emotions: joy, stress, confidence, relief... She feels like she’s been waging an emotional battle inside her head all morning long...and now that the snow and dust have settled, she’s left with something that’s eluded her for a long, long time: hope.
What a fitting Christmas present for the heiress apparent.
“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind... We’re gonna be running checks throughout the morning, just to make sure everything’s holding up through peak hours. Would you mind just being on-site today, in case something crops up? I’ll go ahead and pay you extra.”
“Oh! Well, um, sure! I don’t have anywhere else to be.” Thank the stars for her mother.
“Man, you really are a lifesaver!”
“Oh, you flatter me~”
Reina looks to the summit. That would be the next logical step—both for maintenance and for closure. She’s unlocked the mountaintop by her own hand... All that’s left to do is take that next step.
It’s funny. From here, the mountain doesn’t look so tall after all.
***
With the rising sun, the ski resort proudly opens for business, welcoming the flood of thrillseekers with full and open arms. After a brief delay, the summit is open at last—and what a day for it! The clouds have finally decided to retreat from over Sapporo, the sun piercing through to give all an immaculate view of the city and the bay to the north. Christmas is already one of the busiest days of the year for the resort, but combined with this perfect storm of weather conditions, it’ll be one of the most lucrative days on the mountain for years and years to come. And not a single customer will have any idea how it all worked out today.
...Well, except one, perhaps.
“Huh...?”
“What is it?”
“That... Over there, that’s the Road Runner!”
Most simply take a puzzled look at the old muscle car in the parking lot and carry on with their day...but not Yuzu. The Road Runner has her completely confused: how in the world did it get here? And why?
“Well, I’ll be damned, yeah, you’re right.”
“What’s it doing all the way out here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine!”
Maybe the manager would know. The Tachikawas have half a mind to track him down at the resort and ask him about the curious little interloper in the lot. The perks of having well-connected parents.
In a fortuitous coincidence, the manager finds them first.
“Oh, Tachikawa!” The manager is still buzzing all over the place—a trademark of his fidgety tendencies. Nonetheless, he and Yuzu’s father are more than happy to see each other.
“Merry Christmas! How’s it going?”
“We’re doing okay, as you can see! Tons of people today, the conditions are perfect.”
Mr. Tachikawa thinks of the best response to steer them in the direction of the Road Runner without sounding too awkward. If Reina or Sami is out here, then that means...
“Been pretty smooth so far?”
“Well, uh...had a bit of an episode earlier today, but we got it taken care of.”
“Oh?”
“The summit lift had a problem, of all things. I was scrambling to get somebody out here, but y’know, being the holidays and all, everybody was booked into next decade.”
“But I managed to find somebody—and man, she’s great! I called her a couple hours ago, and she just beelined over here!”
“Oh, is that what that weird car was?”
“Yeah, that was hers. I couldn’t believe it!”
Mr. Tachikawa stifles a chuckle.
(Yup. That’s the one.)
“She really knows her stuff. She had our backup diesel going in minutes! The summit lift’s still a little backed up, but without her, we’d be toast.”
“I might just call her for all my maintenance from now on.”
“Man... Sounds like you’ve had an eventful morning!”
“You don’t know the half of it. I think I’m still getting the panic out of my system. She really saved our whole operation here...”
Yuzu can hardly believe what she’s hearing. Reina, the greasemonkey who saved Christmas? Never in a million years did she think the Road Runner, of all cars, would be able to tame the tricky turns of the mountain pass...and yet here it is. In spite of it all, Reina persisted. She could’ve done things the easy way this whole time, but she chose not to...and after their brief heart-to-heart last night, she might finally understand why.
...She decides to speak up.
“Where is she now, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I think she’s still checking stuff up at the summit.”
“Thanks!”
Change of plans: Yuzu’s getting in line for the lift, and not a thing on this earth can stop her. Mr. Tachikawa is tempted to follow suit, but he decides against it, instead watching his daughter with a smile. This is her moment.
“Does she...know Reina?”
“Heh heh... You could say that.”
***
The lift runs smooth as ever. Yuzu didn’t even notice that it was just a hare louder than usual as she was standing in line—the mechanic’s handiwork made all the disruption disappear. All that’s left is the anticipation... Slowly, steadily climbing up the mountain, hoping she’s not too late to catch her new friend...
(Finally!)
The summit greets her at last—a familiar sight for the seasoned snowboarder, but her eyes alight with a newfound energy when she reaches the top this time. She has to take extra care not to trip over herself as she rushes off the lift. Her eyes dart back and forth across the plateau, looking for the girl who sticks out the most...
And as she turns her attention to the mountaintop café just beside the lift, she finds the girl of the hour through the window.
“Huh...? Oh!” Reina waves on instinct.
“There she is!”
The wheels of fate conspire to bring them together once again. Yuzu quickly makes for the door and joins Reina in the shop, confusion and excitement competing on her face.
“I didn’t realize you were spending your Christmas here!”
“Well, speak for yourself!” Yuzu’s amazed at just how much energy Reina can extract from her. She’s got some kind of charisma going on.
“Well here, sit down! I’m just taking a break here for a bit.”
“Thank you...!”
The café has Reina to thank for being open today at all. Perched right on the summit, it’s a popular spot for refreshments with a view—and a nice reprieve from the biting cold outside. The clear skies today make for the perfect backdrop, sunlight beaming through the wide shop windows.
“The manager was just telling me about a mechanic who helped out today. I could barely believe it was you!”
“I wasn’t expecting to get the call either. I was about this close to sleeping through it.”
“It was his friend who called me, actually. I know the manager who runs the resort over at Mount Moiwa—so only a couple blocks from our shop. We were just doing work on his old kei truck.”
“He heard about Teine having trouble, so he decided to call me on a whim...and, well, the rest is history.”
“Wow...” She’s starting to realize just how many hoops Reina had to jump through. Getting all the way up here is one thing, but on such short notice? The girl’s got guts.
Reminds her of a certain other Aikawa...
With the help of some snacks and a drink or two, Reina finally thaws from the cold. This unexpected coincidence really helps lift her spirits—she was expecting a lonesome Christmas, only to be met with the exact opposite. It’s considered more of a couple’s holiday in Japan, but there’s nothing wrong with spending it with a friend in a cozy little coffee shop.
And the Aikawas have never been ones to follow social cues anyway.
“So I take it you’re headed back to the shop after this?”
“Yeah. I’m staying here for the day to make sure everything goes smoothly with the backup generator, but then it’ll be back to business as usual.”
“So... Where do you think the shop goes from here?”
This time, Yuzu asks not out of skepticism, but curiosity. She wants to watch Reina see her vision through...and perhaps after the day’s events, she’s gotten closer to her answer.
“...I think I’m starting to figure that out. I’m still trying to get all my thoughts in order...but I might have an idea for how to move the shop forward. My way.”
“There’s a certain...idea to the old cars we love. The old things we made. And I feel like if we bring that idea into the future, then that’s our ticket.”
“It won’t be easy...but I wouldn’t wanna do it any other way.”
Yuzu smiles—now she’s really starting to sound like her mother. She’s got that same spark in her eyes...
“I think that’s a good plan.”
“I’ve still got some time to think about it...and I’ve got some breathing room now too.”
“Yeah... I’m rooting for you. I think you’ve got what it takes.”
“Thanks~”
Reina and Yuzu leave the shop recharged and refreshed. Yuzu watches Reina get back to her work, disappearing into the shuffle. She’s always doing things her way, no matter where she goes... She sticks out like that. She really is her mother’s daughter...
But that’s alright, Yuzu thinks. Sticking out isn’t such a bad thing after all.
***
Christmas day comes to a close at last; the moon reclaims the skies over Sapporo, and night descends on the rejuvenated city. The ski resort, hot off a hectic day, lets out a yawn as it prepares to retire for the night. One by one, the lifts slow to a halt. The mountain is still once more.
Reina too is ready to pack it up and conclude her work for the night...but the last of her impromptu duties has her back atop the mountain. The café has closed, the lift all but empty. For a brief moment, she has the summit to herself... A vignette suspended in time.
“Man... What a day.”
Her body may be tired, her eyes weary, but her soul is the fullest it’s been in years. She swells with a pride thought forgotten—a purpose she’s starting to fulfill. Miniscule though this step may be in the grand scheme of things, today means far more to her than just the sum of its parts.
It gives her this feeling she can’t quite explain.
“Wow...” As her reward, Reina treats herself to an unspoiled view of the landscape below, right against the edge of the peak. The city lights glimmer in the distance, Ishikari Bay rounding out the horizon beyond...and overhead, the clear skies open the door to a whole canvas of white on black. This is the clearest night they’ve had in an age.
In this moment, Reina feels time itself slow to a halt. Her mind runs free, darting across the landscape with the whimsy of a starstruck little girl. It’s food for the soul...and some closure, at last, to this turbulent stretch of time.
“...I’m gonna get there.”
The stars are still so far away...but she’s just a little bit closer to them now than she was at the start of her journey. Somewhere down there among all the city lights is the Aikawa Auto building...indistinguishable, lost in the shuffle. But look how far she’s come. She started walking, not knowing where she was going...but at the end of the day, she made it to the mountaintop. She proved on this day that those daunting peaks can be scaled.
And maybe, just maybe...she can go all the rest of the way.
“I’ll have to get Mom a souvenir while I’m heading back. Maybe I’ll go to that Christmas market at Odori Park...”
“...Yeah. I think that’s a fair reward. Heehee.”
She decides to take out her dinky little phone—a cheap, well-worn model—and snap a picture of the skyline before she heads back down. It’ll be a grainy photo, unworthy of the wall of fame...but this is just the first of many memories she’ll make as heiress apparent. With time, she believes she’ll deliver a memory to live up to those legends from the past. She thinks she’ll get there eventually...
She knows now is her time to shoot for the stars.