“Why, hu—” he starts to say before you cut him off with a look. He just smirks. “I mean,June.”
No, no, he was totally going to call you ‘human’ in public on purpose.
That troublemaker.
“Don’t worry,” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “If there are, I’ll take care of them.”
And he’s talking not-as-quietly as he really ought to.
Lizzie glances over at you from the cash register, like she’s hearing snippets of your conversation and wondering what juicy thing you’re talking about.
“There’s a bit of a mess in the alley,” you say as you steer Ziros toward the back door, grabbing a fresh trash bag and holding it up for Lizzie to see. “We’ll be back in a few.”
She just watches you go, gaze focused on Ziros’ arm around your shoulders, probably trying to determine what your relationship is.
And maybe disappointedly registering that she probably doesn’t have a chance with him after all.
You unlock the deadbolt, already bracing for the worst as you swing the door open.
And…nothing happens.
Nothing bad, anyway.
The sky out back is dark and ominous, looking like it’s seconds from either pouring or hailing, but otherwise it seems normal. No monsters, anyway. None that you can see.
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you turn to Ziros, sliding out from under his arm.
“Okay, so there’s trash up and down the alley from where I kinda sorta had to use it to fight the monster.”
Ziros looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Human. You fought the skaddler withtrash?”
“Yep.”
“But you had a sword.”
“It was tiny! At least, it was at first.”
Which reminds you: You pull out the now-once-again-tiny sword, removing it from its sheath—hoping Lizzie isn’t watching through the blinds as you hold it out.
And………………a great big nothing happens.
Yep.
You give the sword a little shake, hoping maybe that will jog it back into its magical girl transformation sequence of awesome enlarging, but still—nada.
Zilch.
Maybe it only transforms in extreme cases of life-threatening desperation?
“What’s the matter?” Ziros asks with a smirk, folding his arms as he watches you wave your tiny sword around. “Can’t get it up?”
“Ha, ha.”
“Have you tried rubbing it?”
You’re about ninety-nine percent certain that’s not going to help, but maybe you’d better try anyway. Just to be sure.
