In the morning mist I coasted into the vet's office parking lot. Only to be met with a slightly familiar form. The cat-rabbit thing was covered in bandages and sitting on a fence post, looking out and around, ears perking as I pulled in and popped open my door.

The little furry creature hopped over and looked in, peering about.

“Nobody here?” it asked in a strangely masculine voice.

“Nah, I'm here, I'm the truck,” I answered.

“That's odd.”

“Coming from the little furry animal of no known species that can talk.”

“Touche. You can call me Cabbit, and I'm guessing you're... Wait are you the truck?” He, for it was definitely a he, sounded very amused.

“Ah, I see you've heard of my work. Yes, I'm the truck. So what is it you do?” I asked, already suspecting the answer.

“Oh come on, you're one of us, certainly you know. I'm the one responsible for magical girls of course. Well, one of several anyway.” Good to confirm who I was talking to.

“Question, how do they not get noticed?” I asked.

“Most of the big battles happen in hidden areas, and there's magic for making people forget to an extent. Can't have anything too big, but as long as things stay within reason it keeps hidden. Suspect its the same for you right?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Something like that. Glad to see you're doing better, guessing a villain got you?” I asked.

“Actually no, it wasn't someone I recognized at all. Some man in a black trench-coat of all things beat me with a baseball bat,” he sounded a bit worried about it. “I need to check on some of my girls, don't suppose you can give me a ride while I explain?”

“Sure thing, hop in and tell me where you need to go,” I offered, I was faster than any normal means of transportation, and a friend in the magical girl community would certainly come in handy at some point.

As the guy got in I realized that he was visibly limping. No matter how much he tried to pay it off Cabbit was hurt, maybe badly.

“Crazy people man, beating up animals for no good reason,” I said after he'd punched the address we needed to go to into the GPS with little toe beans.

“Not the reason I'm worried. Normally I'm pretty immune to stuff like that. A normal car can run me over and not bother me at all, but that bat, it hurt.” That was worrying indeed.

“I'll tell Ex Machina, see if we can get some cameras and stuff out there, figure out who the guy is. You seem cool, so maybe we can do something.”

“Who's Ex Machina?” the little furball inquired.

“Handles computers and stuff, a lot like me,” I answered. “Seems like a chill dude.” Then something occurred to me. “By the way, were you born like that or?”

“Turns out if you're a guy who gets magical girl powers via being the boyfriend of a magical girl there is a cost if you cheat,” he said dryly.

“That's brutal man. Turned into a cat thing? Rough.” I couldn't really understand, as my experiences had been few and far between, but I wouldn't want to be a cat.

“Eh, not too bad. Apparently I'll get a chance to change back at some point so long as I do my job, even get to keep some of the magic. There's lots of rules and bylaws and stuff, but always hope at the end of the tunnel. I suspect that's what keeps us going.”

We pulled into a park, and on one of the swings was a girl who looked like she was somewhere in high school. She had a uniform, short skirt, tie, all that, and was swinging back and forth on one of the swings, looking a bit out of sorts.

When we got there Cabbit jumped from my window and sped over to her, where he was promptly embraced. While she was picking him up and seemed to be fussing I got a call.

“Hey, noob, you there?” Ex Machina said, and he sounded off.

“Yeah bud, what's up?”

“I got a call from toilet girl, something's wrong but I can't get to her and I don't know what to do.” It was nervousness, real fear there.

“What'd she say?” I asked.

He played it for me, and I felt my oil freeze. There was a male voice, declaring 'There you are.' followed by the sound of feminine screaming and breaking porcelain. Then it cut off, as if the connection had been broken.

“What the fuck,” I whispered back, something was going on here.