The Yukarimobile's swift halt sent you flailing. You tried to grab on to something - anything that would keep you from becoming a red dot on the floor mat - but the grey and black surfaces just blurred tauntingly around you. A blunt THUD resounded as your jaw hit something hard. The pain prevented your eyes from opening immediately, so you simply rested on this new, hard surface. Not as soft as the seat, sure; but just being able to stay still and have nothing pushing your back was a welcome change.

The relief was short-lived, however, as you heard a grumble from further up - followed by a hard, flat surface slamming your entire body down. The platform you held actually trembled under the weight, receding to the awe-inspiring strength. Your eyes jerked open, and you made out the details immediately: this was a gas pedal. You were underfoot on Yukari's joyride.

The now-familiar voice clanked out behind you: "Alright, that... Happened. Who designed these streets, anyways?"

You tried pressing back, but that just seemed to make her sole force down with greater might. The immense strain pushed all the air from your lungs; and attempting to breathe it back in only brought tiny dust sediments from previous trips into your mouth and nose. It begged the question: was Yukari taking out some anger on the pedal? What would that mean if she found you? Or was this the same amount of energy a normal person would use on the pedal - and this slight pressure was enough to feel like a ton of bricks at your pathetic height?

Another stop made you feel weightless for one second, before gravity grasped you once more. Unwilling to take another facefull of the pedal's dirty coating, you took the opportunity to twist around. Your eyes fell on the teacher's partly-exposed legs first; they looked as wide and firm as tree trunks, but still smooth. Far above that, you could make out her face for the first time in this wild ride; bearing all the signs of fatigue and frustration that would come from a day of warm work. It seemed impossibly distant, out-of-reach, and most of all, uncaring; a sense of smallness sunk over you as this dull gaze cemented how unnoticeable you were. But what brought the most pain was below the leg, stretching widely over your body; the unending earthy-coloured base of her right sandal.

Sandals. Cork, slightly-raised-at-the-heel, blue-straps-with-no-toe-strap sandals. Did this leviathan-sized lecturer have a mission to violate every safe driving precaution?

With only a slight flex of her ankle, she squeezed your form between pedal and sole once more, tightly compressed on either end. You could feel your torso and limbs sinking into the footwear, its corners contorting against you - but much more hesitantly than with her backside. It wouldn't take much more force for you to join the dirt that was sliding into your face. For every bit that you spit out, more comes to assault your taste buds. Every time you tried to blink some of the dust out of your eyes, more came in to sting. You can only slowly wiggle your arms with every pause, bringing them a few millimeters upwards.

A horn blared in your ear. You felt the center of gravity shift once more as the Yukarimobile made a sharp swerve, nearly undoing the upward progress your arms made. Your fingers instinctively grasped into the cork, even as you felt your left arm creaking and aching under the changed pressure. When the car finally stopped turning, it was comforting just to have a normal amount of strength on your torso. Even the car's brisk hop from a disregarded speed bump and the following groan from the car's suspension felt almost familiar.

A quick glimpse of the world above revealed that Yukari's shoulders and back were no longer slumped, tired in the seat like before. She was leaning forward, face closer than ever before; you could clearly make out the shape of her pupils and brown irises. Yet, the woman's eyes were still not focused on you; they peeked alternatively between the windshield and the car radio. Her hand fiddled around with the knob, moving through stations quickly. This was your chance! After enduring another rough squash from the sandal's sole, you continued your movement upwards with increased vigor. She could probably make you out now, if you could only slide out of the tight space between the cork and the pedal before she landed on a station...

Your arms forced upwards again. You tried to focus on the radio's sounds to distract yourself from the pain. A few bits of static. The nasally voice of a pop singer. A chance to win tickets to Okinawa. As your left hand finally grasped the edge, the ending of a news report played out: "...Leaving the victim with severe injuries." Your driver giggled briefly at this before continuing her hunt for the perfect station. Only a few more nudges forward, and you finally had your torso free from the overwhelming sandal. It lifts slightly, giving you the opportunity for a nice, long breath before you complete your journey. Above, Yukari's head abruptly twists to the side, her eyebrows falling down in anger. Was something happening outside?

"Oh, so THAT'S how it's gonna be? Think you own the road?" She hollered out the window, both hands instantly slamming with an enormous THUMP on the steering wheel. Her fingers each flexed individually over it. You suddenly felt all the tension lift from your body; only for the entirety of the sandal's worn base to dangle above, slamming towards you at breakneck speed! She was ready to unleash fury on the pedal - and her unseen passenger!

Thinking quickly, you dive forward, out of the way. Just in time, too; the tremor behind you, if it were fully sized, would easily measure in the top half of the Richter magnitude scale, if not permanently mold Tokyo's topography. The sheer energy makes you leave the pedal, becoming a victim of gravity's cruel whims once more; and the intense burst of speed from the vehicle pushes you backwards, like a fly tossed to the rear window.

However, something blocks your way to the back. More specifically, five somethings, resting at the top of the cork sandal. Trying to catch your breath instills your nostrils with the slight odor these somethings have acquired from a full day of teaching. They scrunch up in reaction to Yukari's angry driving, inadvertently pulling you underneath, brushing you against the front of her sandal, and slamming you into the ball of her foot.

On the bright side, you overcame the sandal's sole. But you now faced your next obstacle: the teacher's toes.

They slammed flat onto the cork before you could react. You lay underneath her middle and ring digits, face pointed directly at the joints where they met the rest of her foot. It gave you a clear view of the otherwise-imperceptible sock lint and sweatdrops that accumulated between them. She was still speeding forward, apparently racing someone else. A raging wind assaulted your body simply from the car's movement, and it feels like you might be blown away - perhaps to your death. There was nothing solid to grab for support except for the fleshy towers around; so your arms grip around it, the titan's warmth washing over them both. Until she's slowed down, you have no other option than to keep clinging it, torso and cheek pressed tightly to the skin as you're forced to expose yourself to the stench and moisture. To think, she could be able to notice and save you if she could just cool her head and look down for a moment... Or send you to your doom with a misplaced twitch.

Suddenly, nothing. The acceleration felt like it slowed to Osaka's pace. From between the appendages you rest under, you could clearly spot Yukari smiling widely. The road rage was over! To make things even better, she was leaning over to the radio again! If that sight were any more relieving, you'd be hard-pressed not to hug her toe if that weren't super-weird. With the stress she was putting on the pedal reduced, you could slide a little further from her foot, even stand up on your own feet (even if the floor was a bit slanted). Walking had never felt so special.

You were about to call up, but Yomi's words echo in your head again. If Yukari had weird ways of punishing students at normal-size - and if she found some reason to disapprove of this stowaway...

Before you can decide what to do, a voice on the radio drowns your thoughts. The driver, apparently quite fond of this tune, began singing along, her brightened eyes darting back to the road. Her toes tapped to the rhythm, pushing you down; the middle one rubs against your chest repeatedly, almost ticklishly. You try grabbing it, even punching it to get her attention; but it just rolls all over you once more. Her powerful voice soon joins the radio in song:

"Kaihou teki ni yarou, ogori nara ton to nomu yo! Oishii mono tanonde, tabetsukushichae!"

Despite the trembling under your feet, this wasn't TOO bad. Unless Yukari decided to launch another attack on the gas pedal, you could probably stay here until she reaches her destination; that would give you plenty of time to judge how dangerous asking her for help would be. Sure, the thought of snuggling with her toes again to avoid death was just a little gross, especially considering the effect the beating sun had on her. But it was better than joining the insects splattered on the back window. All you had to do was trust her driving skills...

...Leaving your fate to Yukari Tanizaki's driving was the SAFE option; that alone is testament to how dire your situation was. The only other path in sight was climbing up. A more immediate way to grab her attention. An opportunity to avoid further inadvertent torture at her hands - or feet. A possible route to shelter. A death-defying ascent up a clean-shaven, sweat-covered leg, with few footholds, even fewer resting places, and strong winds.

WHELP.