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Zira had a habit of walking with their eyes on the ground, their ears tied up in the sounds of their own anxious thoughts, and their movement restricted by layers of clothing. They noticed too late, and didn’t get out of the way in time.
ScreeEECH! Tires squealed as the truck driver slammed on the brakes. Zira picked herself up from the sidewalk strip where Aika had thrown her and stared in sickened dismay. Red on black, blood spattered across the road.
Aika picked herself up, gritting her teeth. One was missing, a bottom incisor knocked completely out. She had transformed into her magical girl form, and as always, the exhausted, sad expression so uncharacteristic to her everyday self had taken up residence on her face.
The truck driver yanked the gearshift into Park and hopped out of the truck. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. Let me give you my insurance—do you need to go to the hospital??”
“Nope,” Aika deadpanned. “I’m fine. Please go away.” She paused. “And go buy a Prius or something.”
“Yeah—yeah—of course.”
“Aika!” Zira said. To Hoshi, who was fluttering around Aika’s head anxiously: “Do you have any, like, healing powers or anything?”
“I heal faster than an ordinary person,” Aika said. She twisted her grimace into a smile. “I’ll be fine, really.”
Actually, what she was internally screaming was This hurts! This sucks!! But as seemed to keep happening lately…
“Zira, are you hurt anywhere?”
“Um, I guess my knee’s a bit skinned…no, I’m not hurt, really.”
…she wanted to save Zira, her beloved ordinary person. And she was the one who could… If Zira had jumped in front of a car for her, Zira would be dead. Zira now was looking up at her with her sweet, genuine face, soft rounded cheeks and big brown eyes that had never seen anyone get hurt or killed before.
This was her job, the job she was trying to quit, to save and protect people like Zira. And she was so sick of it that seeing Zira safe on the curb didn’t even make her feel good, only bitter, unsure, tangled up inside. Like a web, closing around her every second, saying, Don’t you want to be responsible, for girls like her? Don’t you want to give your life and freedom away again, to save the world, to be admired by her?
If she just accepted that she did want to, then her mouth, elbows, and knees wouldn’t smart half as much; she’d be able to write off the pain as just another casualty on her life’s mission. Until her good emotions dulled too, that was.
Clean, cold water splashed over her hands. Aika looked up and stared at Zira, who was brandishing a water bottle.
“What are you doing?”
“Um, trying to clean off your injuries?” Zira rustled in the pockets of their long skirt. “I think I have a bandaid somewhere…”
Zira didn’t have any hangups about helping others. Aika couldn’t be like that, not anymore. But it was nice to be around.