North River Co.’s labs were scattered all across the country, from Okinawa to Hokkaido.
The fact that lab one was situated in Honshu of all places really made me feel like we’d lucked out. Making the trip to Kyushu or Shikoku or even Hokkaido wouldn’t have been the worst thing ever, assuming all the bridges and the tunnels were intact, but I shuddered to even think about Okinawa.
We were on the road pretty much day and night, stopping only to occasionally siphon gas from abandoned cars or to switch drivers.
“Wow, you actually can do it,” said Otoha, who was currently riding shotgun.
“Told you, didn’t I?” I replied.
The stretches of dark road, illuminated only by the occasional street light, continued on and on and on. Since there was no oncoming traffic to speak of, I had switched on the high beams. There was something surreal about the bright lights seamlessly cutting through the dark.
“I’ve had practice in the virtual realm, but it’s my first time handling the real thing, so don’t expect too much.”
“I never did.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Tetsuko, Shino, and Shiiko were in the back catching some Zs.
“You’d better get used to it; you never know what could happen,” Tetsuko had said, and just like that, my journey to driving mastery had begun. Well, it was kind of a short and uneventful one, seeing as we just had to head straight all the way to the lab.
Funnily enough, all the stray zombies had seemingly vanished from the road the moment I’d gotten behind the wheel.
All I had to do was drive in a straight line and nothing else... nothing at all.
Still, that would’ve been mind-numbingly boring, not to mention sleep-inducing, so I’d decided to engage in some quality conversation with Otoha instead. “You know, it’s almost like we’re on a nighttime drive.”
I immediately regretted saying it.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. What even was that, a half-baked pickup line?!
“Aren’t we?” Otoha tilted her head.
“Well... yes.”
Okay, yes, we are literally on a nighttime drive, but I meant it in more of a romantic excursion sort of way. You know what, I should probably just be glad she didn’t catch on and pretend this never happened.
Otoha was as dense as ever, although it was cute in its own way.
“Hope is a nice thing, isn’t it?”
Even a microscopic amount is preferable to crawling around in the dark, blind to everything around you.
“I guess.” Otoha’s tone came off as unusually pensive, though it was so subtle only I would’ve been able to tell.
“Feeling a little down?”
“I’m always this way,” Otoha said, staring off into the night. “Always have been.”
The last bit felt important somehow.
This is Otoha, who’s always this way. Otoha, who’s always been this way. Otoha, the emotionally stunted zombie aficionado labeled as a wackjob by everyone around her. Otoha, who had survived precisely because of that. Otoha, who’s my partner and my lifesaver.
Otoha, who... might not want things to change.
“Do you like it better this way?” I asked as casually as I could.
This might be a stretch, but what if Otoha feels like this is what her entire life has led up to? That this is where she truly belongs? The potential ramifications of time travel are a toss-up at the moment, but what if Otoha ends up losing her place in the world? Is she gonna lock herself away in her room and watch zombie flicks and make weapons all day long?
“Do you not feel like saving the world?”
“You could say that,” Otoha said matter-of-factly.
Actually, I don’t think I know much at all about Otoha’s past. I mean, she told me a little about her family once, but that’s about it.
I have no idea where she lived, what school she went to, anything about her friends or lack thereof, her other hobbies, her favorite food, her favorite animal... I know nothing about her normal, everyday life.
“Keep your eyes on the road.”
“I am, see? See?” Although my eyes were on the road, my attention had shifted to Otoha.
She could be oddly perceptive at times. The girl never ceased to amaze me.
Then again, it’s not like I’m dying to talk about my past either, seeing as it mostly consisted of me rotting away in my room grinding away at FPS games.
I wholeheartedly enjoyed it, but at the same time, I’m willing to recognize that society at large had a less than favorable outlook on my hobbies and general lifestyle.
Diehard FPS nerds in particular seemed to attract a lot of ire. The only ones who understood us were our own kind; everyone else just wrote us off as war fetishists or closet serial killers.
Maybe there’s a part of me that doesn’t want things to change either. A part of me feels fulfilled, like I’m actually living life.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you even think about turning on us in the end.”
Otoha didn’t play dumb. She just quietly stared off into the distance. Resting her arm on the door, she set her chin in her hand and let out a small sigh.
I had never seen her express emotion this openly before.