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After she started feeling the kitsune inside of her, Kira’s world stopped. It stopped shaking, stopped wobbling, stopped feeling like it was off-kilter. The kitsune grounded her in a way she never expected—if she was just plain-old Kira, she’d never be able to wield a katana like O-Ren Ishii or fight like Natasha Romanov. And, yeah, it was kind of amazing.
Too bad the coyote did the opposite for Malia.
“God, this is so stupid,” Malia yelled, chucking Kira’s iPod hard against her bedroom wall.
Kira winced, but she knew it wasn’t Malia’s fault. “Hey, what happened? Tell me.” She sat next to Malia on the bed, careful to soothe and keep her distance at the same time.
Malia flexed her hands, visibly frustrated. “I used to not be able to get my claws back, and now they won’t go away. I can’t even use your little music player thing without ruining it.”
Kira gave her a sympathetic smile and gently took her hand, rubbing her fingers over Malia’s shaking knuckles. “Well, if it wasn’t broken already, I’m sure the wall helped.”
Malia whined a little, nuzzling into Kira’s side. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one. Or steal Stiles’.”
Kira smiled and kissed Malia on the cheek. “Hey, look.” She nodded to their hands.
“My claws!” Malia grinned, lifting her human hand up for inspection. “You know, you make things less crazy sometimes. You make the world spin slower, fox-face.”
Kira just took Malia’s hands and smiled.