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It was a calm, moonless night. Once upon a midnight dreary, one might say but I’m not one for plagiarism, so no pondering weak and weary for y’all. The only thing ruining the dead silence was a shrill, high-pitched scream, apparently belonging to a child. “I will kill you bastards! I will fucking rip y’all to shreds, feed you to dogs and make them throw you up! Who the hell did that?!” Oh my, that’s a pretty colorful vocabulary for a child. Well, not a child per se, but still crude, so crude.
“Oh my, Chianti, children should not swear! What would Santa say? You definitely are getting on a naughty list that Christmas!” Oh. Chianti? Now that’s interesting. What had happened?
“Well, fuck you too, Vermouth! What in the bloody hell has happened! Why I am a fuckin’ midget all of a sudden?! Were you a part of that?!” Oh no, Chianti-chan, you definitely shouldn’t swear now, try behaving for once?
But that’s interesting, what happened here? Why is Chianti looking like an angry twelve year old? Dressed in a huge metal band t-shirt that looks like a dress on her small frame, such an adorable little girl, and... I guess punk is not dead after all.
Oh no, she’s ready to screech again, where does she store all that air? That angry red face sure makes her look like a murderous chihuahua, a pretty cute sight, dare I say. Oh. Is that tears I see in her eyes? Oh no, her eyes are just sweating, that’s definitely not tears.
“For fucks sake, who was the person responsible for that? How do I make it unhappen?” Well, you shrank. And regarding your question, that’s what a certain shrunken detective would like to know as well. “I was casually drinking with Korn and then I wake up in the morning after like that? What kind of a hangover is it?”
Gin was tired of it. Rarely did he contemplate his life choices that led him to the criminal underworld, but that was certainly one of those rare moments. Looking down on a very angry and very tiny Chianti, he slowly massaged his temples. “Great. A migraine because of all that shrieking. That was definitely not what I signed up for. Arson? Fine. Extortion, blackmail, assassination? FINE! But crying children? Hell no.” If only Chianti was not one of the snipers (and the Organization kind of ran low on those since the whole Rye and Scotch fiasco, so just shooting Chianti was kind of out of question. That would surely help, but beggars can’t be choosers).
“Korn. She’s your responsibility now, do something. Sign her up for a primary school, kindergarten or whatever she’s supposed to be at. I don’t care”
There she goes again. How can a person blush so read? Oh, yes, gingers. Anger, betrayal, rage — the range of emotions on Chianti’s face cannot be described by words.
“Primary school? What do I have to do with that shithole?! I am a fucking adult, I can do whatever the fuck I want!” Well, now you’re not. You certainly don’t look the part now at the very least, sweetie.
“Understood.” Way to go with the flow, Korn. Why do you look so happy? “Chianti, I will sign up you for a primary school because you will attract unwanted attention otherwise.” Well, you’re definitely thinking of taking her on a Ferris Wheel now, don’t you? At least someone is content here.
* * *
Chianti felt awful. No, screw that word, it is not strong enough to describe her feelings. Chianti was pissed. Yes, that one will do for now. Looking like a child again? Going to school? Where there’s boredom, authority and math lessons? God, she hated math lessons. Not really because she was bad at math, but because those she remembered to be the most boring ones, and if there was a thing Chianti hated with a burning passion, that was boredom.
Adrenaline rush was amazing. The feeling of having another person’s life at her fingertips was exhilarating. Hunting people was thrilling, that was the whole reason she ended up in the Organization. Boredom? Screw that one. School equaled boredom. Why did she have to return to that hellhole? She could manage just fine without that, thank you very much. Children outside of school attract unwanted attention? To hell with that.
There was also that issue.
“Korn, why the hell are we going to an amusement park of all places we could go now?”