Bread and Balloon

The bird-kaiju's red eyes widened at the sight of Little Shit. One of them dropped the melon bread like it burned, backing away with jerky movements. The other let out a strangled squawk before they both bolted for the exit, nearly taking the automatic doors off their tracks.

"Huh. Guess your reputation precedes you," I muttered to Little Shit.

"Everything here belongs to us now," one of the masked men declared, brandishing a bat studded with nails. His buddies backed him up with their own weapons - another bat and a crowbar that had definitely seen better days.

I raised my hands. "Look, I just need some-"

The words died in my throat. Little Shit was gone.

A rustling sound drew everyone's attention to the bread aisle. Little Shit had somehow climbed onto the top shelf and was pawing at a packaged melon bread.

"Oh no you don't!" The leader snatched the bread away, holding it over his head. "This is our score!"

Little Shit's eyes stopped spinning. They locked onto the bread with laser focus.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I warned, backing away slowly.

The floor began to rumble. Tiny volcanic vents burst through the floor, spewing ash and steam. The masked men yelped as miniature eruptions singed their clothes and skin.

"What the hell?!" They dropped everything - bread, weapons, their tough guy act - and fled into the night, leaving trails of smoke behind them.

I scooped up every intact package of melon bread I could find, cradling the precious haul against my chest. The volcanic vents had missed most of the bread aisle, thankfully. Little Shit trailed behind me, squeaking impatiently as I made my way to the front.

The cashier looked like he'd given up on life about three shifts ago. His name tag was upside down, uniform wrinkled beyond saving, and his dead-eyed stare could rival a kaiju's. His messy black hair stuck out at odd angles, like he'd been electrocuted and just rolled with it.

"How much for all this?" I dumped the bread pile onto the counter.

He blinked slowly. "Oh. You're that kaiju girl from the news."

"Yep, that's me. Living the dream."

"Just take it. All of it. Free of charge." He waved dismissively at the bread. "Quitting after this shift anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. World's probably ending soon. Might as well go out with empty shelves." He shrugged. "Besides, you saved me the trouble of dealing with those guys earlier."

"Fair enough."

Little Shit growled, pawing at my leg.

"Someone's hungry," the cashier noted.

"Tell me about it."

The cashier methodically bagged the melon bread.

"Heads up." He tossed one of the bags to Little Shit, who caught it with surprising grace. The plastic melted away under his touch, revealing the golden-brown treasure inside. The bread vanished in three bites, followed by a satisfied burp that sent sparks flying.

"Thanks." I gathered the remaining bags. "Good luck with... whatever comes next."

"Same to you, Kaiju Girl."

I stepped into the cool night air, the rustle of plastic bags rustling against my legs. Little Shit bounced along beside me, squeaking happily.

Guess there are still some decent people left, I thought, looking back at the store one last time.

***

Gran Gran's snoring echoed through our half-destroyed apartment as I tiptoed past her room. The makeshift volcanic steps had cooled enough to walk on, though they still radiated heat through my shoes.

I slid our door open with painful slowness. Little Shit jumped down and waddled straight to his corner, curling up into a ball with a content squeak.

My futon called to me like a siren song. I collapsed face-first into the pillow, not bothering to change out of my costume.

School tomorrow. The thought made me groan into my pillow. Everyone would be talking about the viral video. There'd be questions, stares, plus Kurumi would definitely corner me about ignoring her messages.

Maybe I could fake being sick. Gran Gran would see right through it though. Missing work wasn't an option if I wanted to salvage my Tokyo savings anyway.

My eyes grew heavy as Little Shit's gentle snoring filled the room. Tomorrow's problems could wait.

***

BANG BANG BANG!

I jolted awake, nearly headbutting Little Shit who had somehow migrated to sleeping on my face. The thunderous knocking at my door could only mean one thing - Gran Gran was on the warpath.

My stomach dropped. Had she found out about KaiKool? The savings I'd been squirreling away for Tokyo?

"Ryūka! Get up this instant!"

I scrambled to my feet. "Coming!"

I yanked my door open, still half-asleep. "What's wrong?"

"Fix your hair!" Gran Gran stood there in her faded pink nightgown. "Someone from the military is here to see you."

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me." Gran Gran crossed her arms. "Go make yourself presentable. I won't have people thinking I raised you in a barn."

I stumbled to the bathroom, yanking my hairbrush through tangled knots. The mirror showed a disaster - my black hair stuck out in every direction.

"Ryūka! Stop dawdling!" Gran Gran's voice pierced through the walls.

I gave up on my hair and hurried to the living room, nearly tripping over my costume's tail. A tall figure in a crisp button-up shirt with suspenders stood by what used to be our doorway. Her long ponytail and sharp features gave her an androgynous beauty that made me do a double-take. But what really caught my eye was the earth-colored balloon floating beside her, its string tied neatly around her upper arm.

"Young lady, do you know what time it is?" Gran Gran was in full lecture mode, hands on her hips. "Showing up at people's homes before sunrise! And what kind of example are you setting with that ridiculous balloon? In my day, military officers had dignity!"

The woman didn't even blink. "I apologize for the early intrusion. I am Lieutenant Sae Himuro from-"

"Lieutenant? You look barely older than my granddaughter! The military must be desperate these days-"

"I am here," Sae cut in smoothly, "from the Kaiju Quarantine Division. I've been assigned to monitor Ryūka Tatsuhara and the juvenile kaiju 24/7 from this point forward."

"Monitor!?" Gran Gran's voice shot up. "Ryūka needs to study! She's already behind in calculus. Did you know she got a B+ last term? A B+! How is she supposed to get better with you breathing down her neck? She'll never get into Shiba University like this-"

I sank against the wall as Gran Gran launched into another rant about wasted potential and disappointed ancestors. Twenty-four-seven monitoring? My dreams of Tokyo crumbled like our wall. Everything I'd worked for was crushed under the boot of Gran Gran's academic crusade - and now, some woman with a balloon.

Little Shit patted my head sympathetically, accidentally singing my hair in the process.