Friday, January 1
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Bee’s parents had left two days ago, but mine doggedly clung to every minute of winter break in Tokyexico. Part of me was thrilled. Having my people here felt great since I’d missed out on last Christmas. But even so, the day had finally come when Mom couldn’t take any more time off from the diner, and Dad had to get back to the drill shop.
Now, the station wagon was packed full of the stuff they’d brought—and been given—and I found myself wrapped up in a giant bear hug as Dad said his goodbyes. “Alright, Dot, don’t forget to be a kiddo. Work and school are important—“
“Yep,” Mom interrupted. “Get your schooling done, focus on your career later, and let yourself be a person, too, Anika.”
“…What your mom said.”
‘I will,” I said.
Bee nodded into her phone. “I’ll make sure of it. We’ve got clubs, and I think we can get away with intramural soccer as long as neither of us gets too competitive.”
“Well, then you’d better tone yourself down, Bianca,” I said. “You’re the most competitive person I know.”
Mom glanced at me, raised an eyebrow, and then sighed. “You two be careful, okay? With your work.”
“Yes, Mrs. DuPont,” Bee said, grinning. She hugged my mom as Dad climbed into the passenger’s seat. The station wagon coughed, whirred, and turned over, spewing a quick burst of smog out of its tailpipe. I grabbed Bee’s hand as the car backed out of the parking lot, then returned Dad’s wave until it disappeared into the cold January morning. Then we were on our own.
And suddenly, we were back on the clock, too. “So, Honeycomb texted you?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah. She wants to meet me outside at Tottergarden, by the playground. She was very clear about that. ‘Not inside. Got things to talk about.’ Very secret, very serious.”
“Okay. So, suit up and get moving?” I asked. If the bee-themed Magical Girl wanted to talk, and she was willing to give up her break at the super daycare to do it, it had to be serious. Did she need more help with a villain? Or maybe she needed someone to act like one at Tottergarden. The whole Anti-Nap League—retired villains—had resigned to take over part of Tokyexico City when the Third Power War started, and as far as I knew, they weren’t back yet.
Bee stole the sneakiest kiss as we took the public elevator back to the thirteenth floor. “I’m gonna be glad to have your place back to ourselves,” she half-whispered, winking.
I nodded and poked her in the side. “What? Not happy with your dorm room?”
“No. Walnut Tower’s too nice.”
“I agree. It’ll be good to be back.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about my Costume, apartment, or school. Maybe all three. Was superhero work stressful? Hell, yes, it was. But it was also something I’d gotten really good at. The fact that Rocko wanted me to fight a major league villain this season—and The Agent was all of major league and more—was proof of that. Or maybe it was proof that the Ilneat knew where the ratings were. I couldn’t be sure.
Either way, I felt more ready to be Magical Girl Understudy than I had in a long time. Having Mom and Dad around had been great for working through my identity crisis—and it was a full-blown crisis. Had been. Probably would be again. Whatever. Having a plan for maintaining Anika while keeping Understudy going felt good, even if sports still set off my ‘cheating’ senses. Bianca wanted to give it a shot, and if she thought she could keep herself under control, so could I, dammit.
I couldn’t worry about soccer or The Agent right now, though, because I had to worry about Honeycomb. What did she want, anyway? Bianca and I slipped into the Green Room, which still featured the conversation pit, and started changing into our super costumes. I watched as she put on the Eagle-Sona fursuit, then transformed quickly into Understudy’s pink-and-blue costume. The reddish off-the-shoulder sleeves and comedy and tragedy mask tiara popped into place to a swell of choral music, and a moment later, the wand appeared.
“It was. But this isn’t a serious Episode. We’re just paying a friend a visit.”
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Fursona and I circled Tottergarden a couple hundred feet up, well above the classic car and block letter sign. Something didn’t feel right. Like a trap. Sure, Honeycomb sat on the swing set, her legs pumping slowly as she swung back and forth. And yeah, the Playpen Patrol was nowhere to be seen. But even so, I couldn’t help but feel like she was bait.
Bait for Magical Girl Understudy.
“So, are you gonna go talk to her?” Fursona asked through our comms. She banked, slicing in front of my [Solar Wing’s] path, and I swerved slightly to avoid her eagle fursuit.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m going.” I gulped and dove, heading for the slide. As the wind whipped through my hair, I picked up speed, then stalled out just a foot from the plastic ramp. My wings let go, and I landed on my back, sliding down toward the cold, snow-covered rubber floor.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Honeycomb put her feet down, scraping on the ground until she stopped, and stood up. “Hi, Understudy! Hi, Fursona,” she said as my partner landed nearby—much more gracefully but less cool-looking than I had.
“Hi, Honeycomb. How’s Tottergarten going?” I asked. “Got enough villains for the Playpen Patrol to deal with?”
“No. But hopefully, the Anti-Nap League will get bored and come back soon. No one’s really fighting them, are they?”
“No. They’re basically on their own. A couple of minor league local heroes, but for the most part, they own the Springs now. It’s only a matter of time until they get tired of lording it over the district and decide to leave. That’s Tele-Portal’s assessment, but she’s also too busy to deal with them, and they don’t seem interested in expansion,” Fursona said. I blinked. When had she had time for updates? And wasn’t that breaking the shop talk rule?
“Ah,” Honeycomb said. She stuck out her hand, and I shook it. “It’s good to see you two. I’m supposed to ask you a couple of things. First, Mrs. N wants to know if you want a job, Understudy.”
“A job? Like…”
“Like, working at Tottergarden. She’s disgustingly powerful—I don’t know if you noticed or not, but no one messes with The Narrator.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that out,” I said. “But a job? Why?”
“Easy. She’s not stupid; the media knows you’re getting lined up with a vil who’s beyond your skills. That means Mrs. N knows, too. She wants you to be our villain for a while until this whole mess you’re in with The Agent blows over. He can hold a grudge, but he won't dare mess with you if you’re under Mrs. N’s protection.”
“Huh. Everyone knows now, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah. Your season finale came out two days ago.”
“What?” Fursona asked, surprised. “Rocko didn’t say anything.”
I shook my head. “They probably did, but we ignored their call. So, Mrs. N wants us somewhere safe? Why does she care so much?”
“I can’t really explain that,” Honeycomb said. “She’s kind of weird about people she knows and about her kiddos. I think she might think of you two kind of like the Playpen Patrol. Two lost kids out there who need an adult.”
Well, that was embarrassing. I flushed red.
“No, not like that!” Honeycomb said, turning crimson herself. “Look, what I mean is…The Narrator looks after people. It’s what she does. Look at Vigilant Vow and me. And right now, she thinks you need looking after. That you’re biting off more than you can chew. She probably doesn’t want to see you two get hurt like…”
“Jackson,” I finished.
That was a fair point, actually. TU had sent an email letting us know that Dr. Jackson’s classes would have a substitute professor for the first couple of weeks as she recovered from her bullet wound and pulled herself back into teaching shape. I hadn’t been following her recovery, but I was glad she’d make a full one, even if it took a while.
I shook my head. “Honeycomb, tell Mrs. N that I appreciate the offer, but I think we’re winning against The Agent. 3V1L’s on the run, we know how it’s getting so many Vs together, and Fursona and I are planning an assault at where we think The Agent’s hiding. If we’re right, we should have this wrapped up soon.”
Honeycomb looked at her feet, crestfallen. She pulled out a phone, sent a quick text, and then stared at me. “You’re sure? Okay. In that case, I’ve got another piece of business to take care of.”
The door behind us opened, and Vigilant Vow stepped through.
My one-time rival hero looked pretty much the same as always: spiky black hair, hoodie, and scarf familiar. Now he had two crystals over his head, and I tensed, ready for a fight. Neither could be Honeycomb’s, not if she was suited up and ready to use her limited powers. That meant…what? That he’d found Magical Girls willing to talk to him? To trust him? That didn’t seem possible, not after the move he’d pulled last year. He’d stolen familiars. He’d stolen Tails!
Still, his hands were both where I could see them, and he wasn’t holding his wand at the ready, so I didn’t spring into action even though his glare would have ripped my heart out if it could have.
“Vigilant Vow has something he wants to say to you,” Honeycomb said, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed at him.
Vigilant Vow muttered something into his hoodie.
“What was that?” Honeycomb asked. I kept my mouth shut; this wasn’t about me, not really. I’d seen Bee make this exact face at me enough times to know what was going on. Vigilant Vow was in trouble. And there wasn’t anything I could do to save him from Honeycomb’s wrath, even if I wanted to.
Which, I’ll admit, I didn’t.
Vigilant Vow, however, was a seventeen-year-old boy, and I’d dated enough of them—one—to know what he’d do. So it didn’t surprise me when he doubled down, crossing his arms over his chest and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
I’d dated enough girls to know what’d happen next.
So, when Honeycomb buzzed into action, I wasn’t surprised. She grabbed Vigilant Vow’s hand and dragged him to the other side of the playground while I stood there awkwardly. Fursona laughed into her mic, and I shot her a look that said, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Then I twiddled my thumbs while Honeycomb hissed and whispered at her boyfriend. I caught, “I’ll kick your butt myself,” which was hilarious, coming from the bee girl.
Then she turned around and marched Vigilant Vow toward me. “Like I was saying, Vigilant Vow has something to say.”
I nodded, still tense. Behind them, Fursona perched on the play place, ready for…something.
“Hi, Understudy. I want to…apologize.” Vigilant Vow glanced at Honeycomb, who nodded encouragingly, her face softening instantly. Damn, she was good. “I’ve been talking to Mrs. N about…what happened. I don’t think I was wrong to compete with you, but I should have seen what Cartman and The Agent were doing. Instead, I just listened to them and did what I was told.”
“And?” Honeycomb hissed in his ear.
“And it was wrong. I still don’t like you—ouch!” He rubbed his side where Honeycomb had poked it. “That stings! Yeah, I don’t like you, but…thanks. For getting in the way. I owe you.”
He reached into his pocket and grabbed a bit of plaid cloth. Then he held it out toward me. “Magical Girl Understudy, please accept my apology. This is part of my familiar’s molt, but it should work for you. You can, I don’t know, make a Vigilant Vow costume or something.”
I slipped the piece of cloth/centipede molt into my pocket next to my phone and nodded slowly. “I didn’t get in the way because you deserved to be protected, but because maybe you’d earn it someday.”
“Yeah, I got that. Thanks.” Vigilant Vow said. He turned awkwardly, shaking Honeycomb’s grip. “Am I done here?”
“Yes, you’re done here. Thank you for trying.” Honeycomb kissed my former rival’s cheek, and he fled back toward Tottergarden’s doors.
When he’d left, she turned to me. “Well, that’s done. If you’re not going to accept Mrs. N’s offer, then she has a second one. Information on 3V1L’s activities over the last couple of weeks. She’ll send it to you. I need to get back inside. It’s almost snack time, and you know how Kaiju Kid gets if she gets the wrong snack.”
“Thanks, Honeycomb,” I said. When she disappeared inside, I took off, heading back toward TU. We’d look over Mrs. N’s notes later.