The electric car of the researcher Jennifer, self-proclaimed Dark Lady worshipper, carried the two of us onto the highway in the suburbs. It was an old vehicle, paint discolored with age.
“It’s a Japanese car from quite some time ago. I’ve driven it over five hundred thousand kilometers and it’s almost never given me trouble!”
“Mmhmm.”
I didn’t really get it. It’s probably supposed to be amazing.
Anyway, just getting a mean of transportation was honestly helpful. I could move faster by myself, except I’d be spending magic power for high-speed movement when I needed to be saving as much as I could.
Which reminded me, this might actually be the first time I rode on a car. The last time had been the truck carrying me from the hospital to the facility. It was closer to a prisoner transport than a ride. It didn’t count.
I rested my elbow on the open window frame and leaned on it. I closed my eyes, feeling the wind on my cheeks, careful to keep the hood where it was.
When was the last time I could relax like this, I wondered…
“It’s a great day for a drive! You think so too right, my Lady? Ah, should I put on some music? There’s this alternative rock band I can recommend—eep!”
My good mood ruined, I shut her up with a blast of coldness. The car skidded left and right for a moment.
“Quiet down…”
“I-I’m sorry… my Dark Bunny Lady looked so much like a normal girl I sort of just…”
What the hell was with that title? As I glared at her in exasperation, a sports car revved its engine to overtake us from behind, paying no attention to the speed limit. As they passed us by, so close they grazed our car’s side mirror and my elbow, a voice rang out.
“Fucking slowpoke geriatric, get that fucking scrap heap off the fucking road!”
I looked at Jennifer and answered her.
“You really think so?”
“…eh?”
I snapped my finger. The sports car that overtook us began to zigzag, one of its tires now burst. It veered off the highway and plunged into the empty fields.
“…did … my Lady did that?”
Jennifer’s face blanched a smidgen. Maybe I scared her a bit too much?
“…call me Shedy.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t call me the Dark Lady, people are going to look.”
Jennifer’s pale face visibly began to redden.
“Yes, Shedy! I’ll help you as best I can! Please give me an autograph later!”
Maybe I should stop being so nice.