Chapter 1:
The chilling December air drifted into the convenience store. Sneakily, it pushed the warm air surrounding the cashier away, pricking his cheek as if to announce that the door had been open. The cashier jerked his right arm- the arm closer to the automatic door- ever so slightly.
Clack, tap, clack, tap. A sturdy white cane appeared from the door's other side. Right after the can came the body: tall, almost lanky, thin light blue jeans, punk long-sleeved shirt. The regular had come back for his usual needs. Another person followed him: a small, young girl with a bouncy gait and decently thick pink and yellow winter coat.
Accelerator wanted to sigh. He couldn't. He was too close to the cashier.
I am Accelerator.
I am the strongest ESPer in Academy City.
People feared me. My simple touch could kill.
I am shopping for soft drinks. With a cane.
The hell.
As he limbered to the soda drink section, he heard Last Order scamper to the manga section. Her shoes clacked on the floor rapidly, contrasting with Accelerator's steady pace.
He sighed once he was out of the shoppers' and cashier's earshot. He squatted down on his knees and began to look at the cans absent-mindly. There was no one around him, as if no one needed a carbonated beverage right then.
Heh. By now they should be used to my presence. Who cares so much about someone they barely even know? He remembered the time when he first came there with his cane and neck collar. Even though he had been a regular long before Amai shot him, he snickered in his mind when he saw the cashier brief expression of shock. The customers discreetly shuffled a few steps back when he walked passed, Last Order being the only one by his side. They all seemed, for a brief moment, shocked or scared or even gleeful, before turning to their apathetic selves. He remembered paying for the seven soda cans he got that day. He remembered the cashier extremely well. The brief moment of hesitation before the cashier took a can told Accelerator all he needed to know. He was still fearsome; in fact, people might fear him more now.
"Doesn't it bother you? Misaka Misaka questions Accelerator with gentle concern."
"What bothers me?" All Accelerator could remember of this moment was that he was outside with the summer wind blowing him forward in the night.
"Misaka Misaka noticed the cashier's and the shoppers' reactions, Misaka Misaka states from observation. They're happy that you're hurt. They're scared that you're hurt. They hate you even more now that you're hurt, Misaka Misaka uses parallel structure to explain her observations."
"Like hell I care for those bastards."
"Misaka Misaka knows that's not true! Misaka Misaka cries out loud! Misaka Misaka knows you're hiding it."
"It seems like I'm hiding my feelings, but that's because I have none."
"…"
"I'm an emotionally ravaged cripple. A terrible kind of person to talk to. Getting shot in the skull might have been good after all."
Accelerator slowly reached out for distinctly colored cans, not caring for their brand. He used his free arm to hug a few of the cans and went to the cashier register.
人
Accelerator's crimson-blood red eyes and his shock of snow-white hair stood out in the darkening town. Night was approaching.
He steadily walked on forward, ignoring Last Order's humming and skipping behind him. He had let her buy a LaLa magazine that she had found.
"Ne, Accelerator-san, are you okay? Misaka Misaka asks in concern." She said behind him, her cheeriness present in her breath.
The memory of the past conversation flashed again inside Accelerator.
"Of course. What is there to not be okay about?" He responded back, taking slight care in not repeating the past.
"For a long time Misaka Misaka noticed their looks and feelings and actions, Misaka Misaka states. Misaka Misaka is telling Accelerator-san now because Misaka Misaka wasn't sure if it was happening."
Does she not even remember what she said five months ago? "I don't give a care for them. You don't need to care about them for me. It's useless. Worrying about those wimps won't do you- or me- any good." He wanted to shut her down. This topic was useless. He just wanted to think by himself.
When I was little, I had a real name.
"Accelerator-san should care for other people, Misaka Misaka urges! Other people care for you! Misaka Misaka declares!"
Accelerator snickered. "Like hell they do."
The street was beginning to show more houses than stores. Silver grey lampposts, separated from each other by a standardized distance, flickered on. Accelerator took a left, entering the park close to his apartment.
"Misaka Misaka is sure that there's more people out there other than herself, Yomikawa-san, and Yoshikawa-san! Misaka Misaka states, beginning to get angry!" Accelerator heard her breath getting huffier and more urgent-sounding. It was as if Last Order was trying to shake him awake from his dreams, his thoughts, the world he formed by himself with him as its only inhabitant. "Even if there's only one other person out there, we three are not the only ones that will support you! That certain special person exists! And Accelerator-san, you HAVE to acknowledge this fact! Misaka Misaka shouts out with certainty!" He heard her stamp her shoe on the park's cobblestone walkway.
He stopped walking and turned his head around to meet her angry-yet-scared-at-getting-punished face.
"I can't acknowledge the existence of an imaginary person." His breathed the words as gently as the wind caressed his hair.
