Author's Note: I don't even know what the f*** is going on in this one. But it did (finally) move the plot along. I guess people are either going to like this or hate it, but I was a bit stumped with how to deal with the next part, so I guess this is what you get. It's weirdly emotional, so read this when you've got a bit of time to ponder, perhaps? I don't know if it also really works, but I tried my best. And yes, Touma is out of character, but I wanted romance, dammit! (So, just enjoy it?)
Chapter 10: The Bright Sun
They had been hurrying down the hall at a rather frantic pace, searching for Kuroko. Misaki had proven quite persuasive as she explained the benefits of cutting class in order to make up those five lost days (although Mikoto didn't need much in the way of persuasion – impatience and nerves were making her positively jittery).
Speeding at a fine clip down a hallway towards the first year classrooms, they were stopped by a booming voice calling out, "Ah! Shokuhou-san! Just the person I was hoping to find!" It was Dr. Sorensen striding purposefully towards them. Misaki and Mikoto exchanged glances; although Dr. Sorensen had often tried to strike up friendships with certain students, he had never shown a particular interest in Misaki before.
"Dr. Sorensen," Misaki greeted, a pleasant smile carefully in place.
The man came to a stop before them, looking strangely hurried and energized, as if he had been exerting himself in far more than a simple brisk walk. "And Misaka-san too! I am so glad to have found you both! This is just so exciting!" He grabbed Misaki's hand, and began pumping it up and down furiously. "It's an honor, and honor; I never thought I'd get to see an actual system scan, and of a Level 5, the fabled Berserker, no less!"
Sorensen was still chattering eagerly away, but Misaki couldn't really distinguish any words – there was a roaring in her ears, and she had the strangest sensation of falling. "Ah, pardon me, Dr. Sorensen," she asked, gingerly extracting her hand from the man's grip, "but you have me at a disadvantage. A system scan?"
"Well of course," said the man, looking rather perplexed. "How else would Tokiwadai and the board of directors get a proper understanding of the extent of your powers?"
Misaki just stared blankly at the man for a moment, before spinning on her heal and storming away. Mikoto shot Sorensen a slightly pitying look: clearly he couldn't read the mood.
"Wait! Shokuhou-san! Shokuhou-san! There's so much I want to ask you! …Alright then, we can meet up at your convience!"
Yep, definitely can't read the mood.
….
Shirai Kuroko had been having a terrible morning. First, her darling Onee-sama had been distant and uncertain again (undoubtedly the fault of that wretched Shokuhou), then Shokuhou herself had finally returned to attend her classes, only to cause a dramatic episode that had had repercussions (and retellings) all the way down into the first years' wing. Onee-sama had then quite naturally been brought up, which finally reminded everyone that Kuroko happened to be a particularly important friend to the Railgun, and Kuroko had suddenly become popular, with her presence actively sought out, as people sought answers to the rumors floating around concerning the Queen.
It was intolerable.
She had finally managed to escape the gossips by retreating to the conservatory for the duration of her lunch period. She didn't particularly like flowers, but it was peaceful, and she desperately needed to think. The raid on Masashi's house had given them information; too much information, and she was sure that there was even more that Shokuhou and Onee-sama hadn't given to her and the other Judgement members.
Actually, that was another infuriating thing about this whole relationship; not only was that woman taking up even more of her already limited "Onee-sama-and-Kuroko-pre-nuptials" time, but she was proving to be a bad influence; Onee-sama keeping secrets, and going off on her own, and butting into Judgement business (okay, none of that was really Shokuhou's fault, or even all that new behavior on Onee-sama's part, but she needed to blame someone!).
Sighing softly, Kuroko found herself staring rather forlornly at a bed of tulips. Almost unconsciously, she raised a hand to gently stroke the soft white petals. It was a beautiful, if strangely sad flower. White was a wistful color, especially on a tulip.
Of course, if I'm honest with myself, Shokuhou's not the real problem here at all. I just…Onee-sama's leaving me behind again. Except this time it's worse, somehow. Contemplating the bloom in her hand, she felt a tired smile crawl across her lips.
Onee-sama's finally found her equal, hasn't she? And that's the crux of the problem, because no matter how hard I try, I will never…or maybe it is simply Onee-sama who will never…well, I could never be that for Onee-sama. Maybe once, if things had been different, but not anymore, the way things are now.
But then…isn't this how things have always been? I, the support from behind, never quite daring to walk side by side with her. And so Onee-sama was always alone, somehow, and I could only watch.
As if summoned by her melancholy thoughts, there was a commotion by the garden entrance, and Shokuhou appeared in the sunlight, hurtling almost blindly into the garden. Onee-sama wasn't that far behind, practically sprinting to reach the other girl. Even if Kuroko couldn't hear their voices, it was obvious from Onee-sama's wild gesticulations, and Shokuhou's tense stance that the latter was upset, and the former was doing her best to be comforting, or reassuring.
Kuroko watched them for a moment, a sad smile settling on her lips. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted to the white tulip still in her hand. It's not that I lost. In the end, I just wanted to be Onee-sa – Mikoto's – friend. I wanted to be her confidant, the person she could always go to and just be herself. I wanted to know…Mikoto. But maybe…I was never in the running at all. But even so, it's alright. Because even if I only continue to support from behind, I still know Onee-sama better than anyone. I know Misaka Mikoto better than anyone.
Peering at the bloom in her hand, Kuroko brought it up to her nose, inhaling its sweet fragrance. Laughing softly to herself, she spun it between her thumb and forefinger. "I've never been one for western culture, but sometimes, the do get it right, if in the strangest places. I mean, flower language? Heh."
Standing, she began brushing the dirt from her uniform, before smiling widely, waving wildly. "Onee-sama! Onee-sama!"
She left the white tulip behind.
One-sided love.
….
"Oh, thank God, Kuroko! Alright, Kuroko's here, let's go – Misaki!" Insistently tugging on the blonde's arm, Mikoto began dragging the other girl deeper into the garden. "Come on! You wanted to go check on that girl again, didn't you? Kuroko, you're coming too – stop dallying, dammit!"
Misaki was letting herself be tugged along, but she was still fretting. Unconsciously, she began chewing on a thumbnail through her gloves. "System scan. Did you hear?! A system scan! This is untenable, outside the proper bounds of what I can deal with without prep – I need to start doing damage control! To start, the professors, and the board-"
"Argh!" Stopping abruptly, Mikoto whirled in order to soundly clock Misaki on the head. "Do you even hear yourself?! Calm down!"
Kuroko was gaping, so Mikoto glared at her in advanced – a preemptive strike saying "Don't you dare start lecturing, or laughing!" Kuroko obligingly straightened her face into the picture of unconcerned nonchalance. Mikoto studiously ignored the accompanying long-suffering sigh, in favor of finally griping, "Kuroko, we're going to Heaven Canceller's hospital. Can you please…" she trailed off, waving her hand about expressively.
"Of course, Onee-sama, although I would like to point out that we would be cutting classes."
"Yeah, yeah. That really doesn't matter. It won't be a problem for you, right?" Mikoto added, looking suddenly worried.
Kuroko puffed out her chest indignantly. "Absolutely not, Onee-sama. I am also a top ranking person in my class, too, you know."
"Ah, yeah, yeah, I know," Mikoto murmured, but she was smiling fondly at the other girl. "I never doubted it."
It was with a soft, if strangely melancholy smile, that Kuroko nodded and held out her arm. "If you would, Onee-sama?"
Laughingly, Mikoto latched on to her kohai, tugging gently on Misaki with her other hand. "Come on, you. Alright, we're off!"
They disappeared soundlessly, without even a breeze to ruffle the beds of gardenias, roses, and tulips.
….
Travel via teleportation was enough to shock Misaki out of her fugue. "My. God," she panted, hands on knees, before massaging at her temples roughly. "That's…awful. How do you stand it?" She looked genuinely curious.
Shirai-san stared for a moment, before responding with a glare and a supercilious sniff. Misaki's eyelid began to twitch. With the beginnings of a smirk dancing across her features, Shirai continued, "I don't know what you're talking about, Shokuhou-san. Onee-sama has never had any difficulties-"
"ALRIGHT, alright, cut it out you two. You can bait each other some other time." She turned towards the blonde. "Misaki, we're at the hospital. Do you remember where-"
"Yes." Spinning quickly, hand fishing into her purse, she continued up the steps towards the entrance. "Let's go."
"Ah, do you really need-"
"Let's. Go."
They made it through the hospital, past staff and security alike, without incident. Of course, that was as it should be. They were standing outside the room before Misaki spoke again.
"Mikoto. Your boy," she paused. She didn't need to look to be able to picture the crimson spreading across Mikoto's face right now. "He's down that way, five doors." A pause again. "I'll be in here; Shirai-san? Would you accompany me?" Her stare was carefully blank, and she studiously did not look at Mikoto. She honestly wasn't sure whether she wanted Mikoto to be with her or not as she went into this room. Shirai, on the other hand, didn't matter as much; or maybe it was just she could trust the antagonism, regardless of whatever else happened.
Shirai's answering nod was slow and deliberate, but there was something in her eyes that made Misaki think that she hadn't been quite as inscrutable as she had hoped. Or maybe it's just because, at the end of the day, we're both satellites of the Railgun. Ha. How pathetic. Well, once more unto the breach, isn't it? Ah, well, alright. Alright, Baka-san. Let's start doing something about this mess I've caused…
….
Mikoto had honestly thought she'd be able to go in with Misaki. But then again, maybe the other girl wouldn't want her around as she did her mind-thing. But then again, she had wanted Kuroko, so really, this entire situation was absurd. Wasn't she Misaki's best (only) friend?
However, internal griping aside, Mikoto's eyes were still drifting five doors down, seemingly of their own accord. But even so, I want to see him again. More than anything…I've wanted to…Alright! Let's do this. I have to thank him for knocking some sense into Misaki anyway. And chew him out for getting himself in a hospital again. Baka.
The door slid open quietly, on well oiled hinges. The room was awash in light and a fresh breeze curled about the curtains. The room was sparse: just a bed, chest of drawers, a chair and a portable table. There wasn't even that much in the way of medical equipment.
There was a boy on the bed.
"Biri-biri?"
Mikoto felt a warmth blossom somewhere around her stomach. "I thought I told you not to call me that," she responded lightly. "Touma."
Surprise flitted across the boy's features. "Ah, what are you doing here? Oh, please take a seat," moving as if to pull the chair up to his bed.
"It's fine, it's fine! Don't strain yourself, please." Mikoto's smile was almost giddy. "And shouldn't the question be 'why are you here?'"
"Eheh, just, you know, the same old stuff," mumbled Touma sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head awkwardly.
"Actually, no, I don't know. You never tell me." Mikoto relied tiredly. But, seeing the boy's uncertain, hesitant expression, she added quietly, "It's okay. You don't have to tell me." She could feel heat creeping up her face, so she quickly focused her eyes on her lap. (So she didn't see the shocked expression on the boy's face, the one that faded to genuine warmth at Mikoto's words.) "I was…reminded recently, that I need to trust my friends. So just, stay safe?" She couldn't stop her earnestness. "As much as you can? And maybe one day, when you're ready, tell me about your 'same old stuff'?"
She was blushing profusely by now, twisting her skirt into knots, and Touma's hand suddenly covering hers wasn't helping, but she couldn't help the flood of happiness that the simple touch invoked. Touma's grin, when she dared to look up, was crooked and kind.
"I take it Berserker-san is feeling better, then?" He asked after a moment, settling back into the pillows.
Mikoto was thankful for the subject change. She nodded sharply. "Yes. She's here now, actually. I wanted to thank you-"
But Touma was frowning now. "She's here? You mean, with the girl? Biri-biri, shouldn't you be with her?" He was looking worried. "She…cares for you a lot, you know…I mean, you're not going to drop her now that-"
"No! Absolutely not." Mikoto was a rather strange combination of outraged and exasperated, but after a moment the expression became more pensive and troubled "I don't think she wanted me in the room with her. I don't really understand why…"
Touma's expression was strangely sad.
"What?!" Mikoto exploded, embarrassed again.
"You're…very bright…Misaka-san." Mikoto jerked in surprise at the use of her name, but held Touma's gaze. Strangely, Touma was the one to break the stare first, scratching at his cheek with a bandaged hand and laughing awkwardly. "Ahah, I mean, you're the only sane level 5, right? Can't have anything mess that up…" His voice trailed off once he realized that Mikoto had gone rigid.
"Are you…kidding me?" Mikoto's voice was quiet and controlled. Touma winced. "You're…joking right? She's protecting me? Is that what you're saying? That better not be what you're saying. Haven't I too seen the Dark Side of Academy City?! Oooh, I'll show her, that self-righteous, self-sacrificing, stupid little…ARGH!" Hair beginning to dance from the static electrical charge, Mikoto swept from the room before slamming the door shut behind herself, abusing the blonde Level 5 under her breath all the while.
Touma sighed to himself, rising stiffly from his bed. It appeared to be time to save another innocent victim from the wrath of that she-demon. Of course, his good intentions didn't stop the door from shocking him the moment he laid his hand on the doorknob. He groaned quietly too himself.
"Aaaah. Such misfortune…"
….
Truthfully, she had been praying that the girl would be asleep, unconscious, in a coma, anything but awake, so she wouldn't have to face her.
So of course she was arrested by a pair of bright grey eyes the second she walked through the door.
She floundered. She probably would have continued to flounder if Shirai hadn't pushed her through the door in order to enter into the small room herself. As Shirai introduced herself, Misaki forced herself to get a grip on her raging emotions. Now was neither the time nor place for her own anxieties.
She walked farther into the room. Shirai had already staked a claim to the spot by the foot of the bed, with a clear view of the outside – both hallway and outdoors. So instead, Misaki moved to stand at an angle, about level with the girl's knees. She bows once, not deep enough to be deferential, but signifying the respect accorded to equals. She could see the girl staring at her, her eyes so bright and curious, but wary, too, now. And her face was just so young.
In truth, she had planned on formality and emotional distance to get herself through this. But she couldn't help but think that that's the wrong way to go about this, now. So she cautiously moved further into the room, settling into the chair next to the bed. She was careful to leave the proper amount of personal space, even as she leaned forward to say quietly, gently, "My name is Shokuhou Misaki. You might not remember me, but I was one of the people who found you." She pauses for a moment, before continuing just as gently, "may I know your name?"
The girl's stare is piercing and assessing, before she answers. "It's Umi. Kazeshiro Umi."
Misaki's returning smile was almost relieved. "Thank you, Umi. Thank you for trusting me with your name." And while Kuroko shifts as if confused, Umi looks like she gets it. Trusting someone, anyone, with something as important as a name after going through what Umi had is a big deal.
"Shirai-san and I are working together with some others to catch the man who did this to you. We have some questions. Would you be able to help us?"
The girl shifts uncomfortably and says instead, "I already talked to Anti-Skill."
"I know," Misaki sooths. "I'm just…better situated to help than Anti-Skill would be."
The girl's eyes narrow almost reflexively, as suspicion crawls across her face. "Why," she asks carefully, a hard undertone in her voice.
And here is, perhaps, the most important test. Misaki studied the girl silently for a moment, as if assessing how much of the truth she could handle. In reality, she was desperately debating how much of the truth she should reveal. She wanted, no needed this girl to trust her, but for a telepath or marionette esper like her, trust was hard to come by on the best of days. In a situation like this? It would probably be too much to ask for.
But truth was also the only thing she had to offer.
Rubbing at her face tiredly, she finally continued, "I am…like him. A psychic. I also…knew him. Long ago. I was hoping for permission to examine your memory, so I can confirm a few things about what is going on, where he is hiding." And who is helping him.
There was a single moment, when she could practically feel the fear and outrage bubbling up, strong enough that it probably would have knocked over an empath. Misaki could feel herself stiffening, waiting for an onslaught of vitriol and curses. But then, just as she had braced herself, the anger died, and the girl simply sagged.
"It's not like I can stop you," she mumbled tiredly, something like bitter despair curling in her voice.
Ah. So. There actually is something worse than fear and hatred. She could feel hysteria creeping up her throat. I wish I didn't know.
"You know…normally I'd agree with you," said Shirai, stepping to lean against the foot of the bed. (Misaki jumped, she had completely forgotten Shirai was even there.) "I wouldn't trust this girl with anyone, and certainly not my onee-sama. She is without a doubt one of the most ruthless psychics you will ever meet; she's even been manipulating all of Academy City itself for at least a year."
This is not helping. THIS IS NOT HELPING! Shirai-san," Misaki hissed desperately.
The Judgment officer simply continued on unfazed. "But you know, for all of that power difference, between her," Shirai pointed at Misaki, "and us," she gestured between Umi and herself, "right now, Shokuhou-san is far more terrified of you than you are of her."
Misaki froze, unable to think, let alone move.
Shirai was watching Umi still, but the expression on her face suggested that she was really focused somewhere else. "She wasn't willing to let Onee-sama come in here, you know," she continued, almost conversationally. "It was very selfish, really. But the simple truth is that we all can't – I can't, she can't, even that baka can't – we can't bear to see Onee-sama disappointed in us. Or her beautiful smile tarnished. So we'd rather work alone, or suffer alone, or fight alone." Her face twisted slightly. "We're all pathetic like that."
Umi was looking both confused and cautious, but curious. "The point is," Kuroko finished, "Shokuhou-san here is still human, still has emotions, and is not quite as jaded as one might expect of a person in her position. She still care's enough about Onee-sama's opinion of her, about your opinion of her, that she will ask for your permission first, because she doesn't want to be like him at all. And because of that, I think you can trust her. Just this once, perhaps. But right now, you can trust her."
And having spoken, Kuroko leaned back against the wall, as if she just hadn't said some incredibly personal things to a complete stranger.
Misaki didn't really know what was going on anymore, and she was sporting a rather magnificent deer-in-the-headlights expression. But whatever Kuroko was doing, it must have worked, because Umi let out a rueful laugh as she settled more comfortably into her pillows. She studied Misaki thoughtfully for a moment, before asking, "can you let me see what you're doing?"
It was a peculiar question. "I…think so? I could always narrate it, but you might not understand the specifics."
"That's fine. I just…want to know what you're doing."
Oh. With a gentle, reassuring smile curving about her lips, Misaki said, "You will be in control of what happens. All I want to do is see where you were – where Ginjo is hiding, and if he said anything that can help me assess his mental state. I won't go anywhere without your permission."
The girl didn't look terribly reassured, but she nodded slowly nonetheless. "…Will it hurt," she asked hesitantly.
"No, not at all. All I'm going to do is put my fingers at your temples. The remotes," she added, gesturing to the bag at her side, "won't really give me the extent of the control I need."
Tugging her gloves off, Misaki shifted to settle on the cot next to Umi.
"Um, Shokuhou-san?"
"Hmm?"
"Who is it…that you don't want to disappoint?"
"…A Sun, Umi-san. A gentle Sun who burns so very brightly."
Umi looked confused, as if she didn't really get it. But Misaki just shook her had and said quietly, "Shall we, Umi-san?"
"O-okay."
….
"I thought you were going to go in there and rip her a new one," Touma asked dryly.
Mikoto didn't answer. She couldn't. Not really.
Didn't want me to be disappointed? Kuroko, Misaki…even this baka? Ha…bright, was it? She felt her face falling, even against her will, her expression shadowed. A…sun. But I…I don't want to be a sun. But if…if this is what they need…then for my friends…
"Alright. We'll go in, but we need to be quiet. Misaki is working right now, I don't want to interrupt her, okay," Mikoto said lightly, earnestly.
But in the end, she was glad she was facing away from Touma. He couldn't see her stealthily rub at her eyes.
Sliding open the door, she smiled at Kuroko, who nodded back, before pointing at Misaki and the girl, a finger to her lips.
She saw the surprise that flashed across Kuroko's face as Touma entered after her, but it settled into a more neutral expression as Kuroko watched him sink stiffly into the chair Misaki had vacated.
Everyone was silent as they watched Misaki work. Fortunately, it didn't take too long, as after a few minutes, the blonde opened her eyes, and let her hands drop to her side. She wasn't even surprised as she turned to look at Mikoto.
"I know how we're going to catch Ginjo," she declared.
"What? How?!" Voices poured forth from all corners of the little room, surprise equally evident on everyone's faces.
Misaki's answering smile was genuine, if relieved. "We're going to set a trap; one he won't be able to resist."
"A trap?" Kuroko looked skeptical. "But something so simple…"
Mikoto had just one question. "Will it work?"
Misaki's grin was shark-like.
"It'll work."