Author's Note:

After the Onsen was put up I went on the kamikoto Discord as people were discussing it. I always think about which head is the best to tell the story, or part of the story, from. For the Onsen it was definitely Touma's, but what is important in the Onsen is what was going through Mikoto's head, or what you assumed was. It also takes away the deliberate holding hands reveal, for which I put in very minor hints, if you tell it from Mikoto's perspective.

People had their own versions of what Mikoto was thinking on the Discord… and all are equally valid in reality. This is a more detailed version of what was going through mine when I was writing it. I've also made in run a bit longer, and set up a certain scenario, to lead into some sequel one shots in which Mikoto eventually skips a year and changes schools.

Now to really understand what was going on I really recommend you read:

'PDA in Japan' by Grace Buchele Mineta which is on Timeout, and also consider 'PDA in Japan: Is it OK to Kiss on the Street Corner?' by Karen Bremer Masuda which is on Sora News 24.

Holding hands is a more major gesture in a Japanese context than a Western one. It also puts the hugs, head pats and other bits of PDA (public displays of affection) between the two in canon in context. I can see from the story stats where people who read fanfic are from. Most of us live in a culture very different from Japan, as much as we may enjoy the products of that culture.

The Onsen 'Reflection'

Academy City's number 3 level 5 pulled out the green military goggles and stuffed the Tokiwadai coat into the bag. Her 'disguise' was complete. She'd even put in the old version of the hair clips she wore to sell the change in identity. The clothing was not 'standard issue for a clone', but that didn't really matter. Mikoto was wearing a hoodie fleece, a black T shirt with three love hearts and green pants. It was the same shirt as she'd worn when she fought the number 4, but the pants and hoodie were new. Given the clones were not wearing the uniform now, so as not to be confused with her, she'd followed suit and walking the streets in the past few days in their shoes had been …well interesting.

Now she just had to work out how to cope with the blatant matchmaking of her mother and the idi…his mother, because she wasn't quite sure she could take it at the moment. Her Dad, Otosan, had already warned her over the phone that morning, "Your mother's gone too far this time. They've even given the boy 5000 yen to cover expenses. They're using the excuse we can't get in for a few days to set you up. All that pressure on you with regard body shape, and now this…If I didn't love your mother, I'd be killing her about now."

That was one thing they had in common. A love problem, and her's was due in about five minutes. Probably twenty, given he was usually late. That would give her time to think in this dead end alley outside the School Garden. Mikoto closed her eyes and started trying to figure out how she was going to cope, but no sooner had her lashes touched and an all too familiar signature joined her in the alley. The 'idiot', "I should stop calling him that," was early. Mikoto checked the time again as the fact he was early soaked in. Did those 5000 yen seriously include an 'on time' bonus?

On her head went the goggles. It was time to see if she the middle schooler could fool the high schooler.

"Hello Biri Biri." That name again, the one she'd gone from hating to missing when he didn't call her that quite so often. Still, this wasn't defeat. Kamijou was expecting her, so she needed to sell being a clone. A slow tilt to the side, like the clones seemed to do may work.

"Oh, you're one of the sisters," and Mikoto tasted a brief sweet moment of success. Then came failure, "That will make this evening a lot more pleasant."

"You … you…you...". Why was the idiot grinning?

"Your smile has more emotion than the clones. It gave the big sister away."

"Oh." Misaka could feel the blood rushing to her face. The same old emotional roller coaster around him, and was having a smile nicer than the clones really a compliment? Maybe it was, though not a particularly great one. Still they needed to get away from here as she could only fool the cameras so long.

Mikoto ran headlong and grabbed his coat. "We need to get out of here, before we get caught." He was flailing behind her, but at least he wasn't holding her up like he used to.

"Where are you trying to take me Misaka?"

Oh crap. He had a point with that. Solution, act as though you actually had a plan. "As far away from here as possible…Are we going in the right direction?"

Mikoto felt his heels dig in, "It's this way," and she could see he was looking across to the park on the other side of the road.

Then his hand wrapped around hers, not a strong grip, but not a limp one either, and he gently tugged her towards the road. "Follow me," and they dived into a gap in the traffic. A car beeped its horn at them as they ran up onto the pavement on the far side of the road. "That's better, the bus is from a stop the other side of the park." He was pointing to the far side with his free right hand, but Mikoto was surprised, the left hadn't let go. "Come on," another gentle pull and they started walking.

The park itself was as dimly lit as the alley she'd met him due to a series of broken lamp posts. They walked across briskly, but the brick pavers underfoot limited their pace. It had been a damp winter day, and on cool nights like this they could be slippery. On one side there were couples taking advantage that the path was a bit more dimly lit than it usually was, and one of the couples were kissing open mouthed hands all over each other. Mikoto developed a slight flush just looking at them and turned to look at the older boy whose eyes were fixed on the bus stop on the other side of the park. He really wasn't observant some days, but for some weird reason she liked that.

Kamijou started talking as they walked. "The bus leads to a residential part of the city in the hills of School District 21. Thing is there are no schools there, so I thought …"

"We'd be away from the other students." Mikoto knew she was stating the obvious, why had he done it? …and why was he still holding my hand?

"Yes. I thought where we're going you…we'd… be left alone. You brought your towel and swimsuit for the onsen?"

Mikoto was still trying to figure out why an onsen. "Is any part of you thinking that this feels like a date?" She'd read one, let's admit it at least half a dozen, shoujo with scenes in onsen.

Kamijou's response floored her. "It shouldn't. It is a 250 year old family onsen. There's an outside stone fringed pool fed straight from the source. Tsuchimikado says he takes his sister there. It's not like I'm taking you to the cinema or the amusement park, is it? You know. The classic dates in this city."

To Mikoto's surprise she realised he really believed what he was saying, and dejected little voice in her was going 'crap'. The outside Mikoto responded, "I know Maika. It's probably as you say," even though she didn't believe a word she'd just said.

It was a thought she dwelled on as they finished the final twenty metres across the park. He didn't think this was a date, when the venue suggested it was, and he was holding her hand like they were boyfriend and …

"Run Misaka!" Kamijou was shouting and a buzzer was sounding as he dragged her this time through the double doors of the bus. There was a hiss behind them as the doors closed and the cold draught from outside disappeared. Mikoto tagged on using her phone and started making her way down to the back of the bus. She sat down next to the window and Kamijou slid in beside her. The engine thrummed underneath them, and Mikoto could see that they were the only people under twenty on the bus.

After 30 second of silence came a whispered question from her side. "Why are you now in the school garden, and why are you pretending to be a clone?"

Mikoto had been expecting that. "The School Garden is easy. Tokiwadai thought the School Garden dorm would be more secure and I'd be hassled less. To be honest I'm missing, and really not missing, having Kuroko sharing my room. They gave me a large room of my own." A room of her own without the constant threat of the teleporter was heaven, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "The clone outfit is a bit more complex."

"…which means Misaka?"

This was a lot more difficult to explain, it felt like a betrayal of everything she'd been, and somehow the words… Well she could try. "When I go out as a clone I'm hiding in plain sight. People are definitely interested in the level 5 who has been cloned. They aren't that interested in the low level esper clone. I'm used to people recognising me, but when you are a clone, particularly without the uniform, it's different. There's no expectation when they look at me." She'd been looking intently at her lap, and then Mikoto turned in his direction, "Kamijou… I'm beginning to understand again what it means to be ordinary. I'm not so sure I dislike the sensation."

"I never expected you to say that."

"I never expected you to listen quite so attentively as I said it." Then she realised. His hand was back, and if that wasn't a touch of empathy in his voice then he was really good at faking it.

"Misaka?"

"Yes Kamijou?" Her heart was racing, and Mikoto fixed her gaze on his forehead in the hope that would stop her complexion changing to the same colour as a London Bus. He wasn't meeting her gaze, but that wasn't a bad thing as he asked the next question.

"Othinus says you like me. That you like me…a lot."

A voice inside of her started screaming. He's been holding your hand. He likes you. Confess, confess, confess… Then another voice started shouting back. He's holding your hand, why isn't he doing the confession. She looked down in the hope her head would quieten down. Eventually the second voice won, but she gave an answer both voices could probably agree on.

"Given our parents sent us on this 'date' they seem to think it runs both ways."

"Our parents…" There was a quiver in his voice and his body flinched. His jaw relaxed, the hand final released hers, had he really been that naive? Mikoto could see his mind was now racing but as it ground to a halt, he took on the air of the superior high schooler. She knew it was a defence mechanism of some sort he had, but it still pissed her off.

"You said runs both ways, but how do you feel."

Now Mikoto was glad that second voice won, and there was no point holding back sticking it to him either, "I saw how you reacted to the High Priest's letter that day and you're expecting a confession, to you, from me." Mikoto snorted, and deliberately shook her head as she leaned back into the seat and fixed her eyes ahead. She was determined to give him the silent treatment for the rest of the journey, but she hadn't finished.

Her next objective was to make it clear that whatever was outside the bus was currently more interesting than he was, but as she looked at the dark window she could see a reflection of what he was doing, and he was staring at his hand. Why was he so fascinated? She'd seen a classmate at school look at her hand like that but that was because she was considering getting an extortionately expensive manicure. That thought lead her to imagining Touma getting a manicure with Seiji, the camp owner of a nail salon in the School Garden who insisted on being called the nail technician extraordinaire. The corners of her mouth began to curl, and she hadn't even reached the part where he was presented the bill. Mikoto took a brief break from the fantasy and looked quickly in Kamijou's direction, practically straight into his eyes. Just as quickly they were both looking straight ahead again.

The bus kept rolling through the city block after block, and the buildings were now low rise, the towers were long gone. She was also noticing that the bus was filling up, and occasionally a student got on, but they soon disembarked. The bus also seemed to be able to turn the traffic lights to blue and only adults stayed on. That was saying something about their destination. Depending on your point of view that could be either good or a bad.

The road began to twist as they neared the foothills of District 21 rocking them both slightly from side to side, and all of a sudden 'the hand' was back. Mikoto only a couple of days ago had finally seen photos of the 'penalty game' trip to the underground mall. In every single one they'd been holding hands. Had it been like this night? Surely if it had been like this, she'd been aware of it? Maybe she hadn't been? Was this the first time since? Was he aware of what he was doing tonight…to her? Didn't he understand that she had cousins who held their fiancé's hand for a fraction of this time? That level of public affection was normal for Japan. This was something from another universe.

The road had long since narrowed to only two lanes and it began to twist uphill. The engine underneath them strained and groves of cedar and cypress were appearing alongside. Finally, the bus ducked under an arch of trees and pulled into a village square. All the adults quickly disembarked and the two of them were the last off the bus, and not until they were both standing on the pavement did 'the hand' release.

Kamijou was looking around, but Mikoto's eyes went back to her hand. She could still feel the warmth he'd imparted to it, and then sensed his eyes on the side of her face. That was the cue to start confirming her suspicions. The people sitting in the restaurants, the people at the convenience store all were of a certain age range, a certain income…a certain profession.

"Kamijou. Have you ever heard of 'Teacher Town'?" He turned his attention back to her.

"The place in urban legend where mostly teachers live and there are no students."

"I think we're there. I could imagine that if there was a really good onsen here the teachers would make sure their students didn't know about it. Come on."

Rather than grab him by the sleeve Mikoto followed his lead. She pulled him by the hand across the square toward the onsen, at a brisk walk. There was steam rising, and Mikoto sniffed the faint whiff of sulphur. She could sense that only a handful of people were in the pool on the far side. This may actually be a good night, which was more than she could have hoped for when she jumped over the walls of the School Garden.

The double doors at the front lead into small foyer. If this was a 250 year old onsen it had a little too much wood grain Formica. The ceiling beams also didn't look quite right, but the effect was still charming. Mikoto could see the white vending machines to the left, where you could get tickets, but the price list and rules were above a vacant wooden counter. Her eyes started working down that list.

The Onsen used a milky green sulphur spring that was almost 60 degrees at its source. From Mikoto's perspective that alone made the journey worthwhile. Tonight was for over sixteens. That was to keep students out, but if she used the electronic vending machines to her left she'd be fine. So far so good.

No swimming costumes. Why had Kamijou not checked up on what that other idiot had told him? "Touma it's, konyoku, a mixed bathing onsen."

"We knew that Misaka, so why are you turning red."

"You…you…didn't check it was…"

The blood was slowly rushing to Mikoto's head. There must be a solution. She could get to the pool quickly so she wouldn't see her, but that meant she'd see…him. The trickle of blood was now a surge, and Mikoto could see the sparks flying around her head. A familiar hand touched her back dissipating them, which was a help, but it didn't really solve the problem. The map of the pool and the price list provided the solution. Her pulsed dropped forty beats per minute as she read on. She could hire a towel she could take into the water. There was also a place she could sit where she wouldn't see the steps adjacent to the male changing rooms. Even better, only she could hire a towel, and that made the corners of her mouth begin to curl.

"It's OK Touma. You can remove your hand."

Mikoto turned to the vending machine. The first thing it asked for was ID. She inserted her 'clone ID' and it flashed green.

"Why did you do that Misaka?"

Mikoto pointed to the sign that said it was an evening session for guests over 16 years old.

The almost instant response. "How did you get past that?"

Mikoto grinned as she held her new ID card out toward him. The one that told him she was Misaka 12571 who'd turned 16 years old two weeks ago. "I thought it may come in handy." This was followed by two button presses on the touch screen. 1000 yen for a female adult, 200 yen for that all important towel.

She grabbed the towel and started striding toward the changing room with a grin on her face. She could stay and watch to see his reaction, but because she was committed, "He can't pull out." Mikoto walked down the corridor and opened the red door into the women's changing room. As she closed the changing room door she heard "Misaka" from down the corridor, and the empty changing room resonated to her laughter.

Speed was now the key. She'd stripped off and was having a shower within 60 seconds. A thirty second shower and her clothes were stuck in a locker. Another 30 seconds and the electronic locker contained everything bar the towel now wrapped around her body. 'Beat that Kamijou'. Through another red door and Mikoto started walking down into the irregularly shaped outdoor pool of opaque steaming water. Once fully submerged she pulled off the wet towel and placed it in a rack obviously there for that purpose. A quick look around and she realised that there were half a dozen others in the pool, mostly by the male entry steps. It was time to sit down and wait for Kamijou.

Slowly the heat sunk into her body, as she looked out across to the wood on the other side of a stream. She couldn't see the stream, but the sound of water running across rocks and pebbles provided the soundtrack for the setting. The rocks around the edge, the natural shape of the pool, the source itself, the wooden buildings that framed it with the woodland. Mikoto had seen her parents pay more for places worse than this. She closed her eyes and let the surroundings take over, surroundings that made her finally relax.

Two minutes later there was shouting from behind her, a female voice. "Did Kamijou drown?" Mikoto went from dozy to hyper alert with that last word., and there was a wake behind her as she rushed toward the scene in front of her.

A massive man was cradling Kamijou's upper body and talking to an especially attractive young woman with should length black hair. "He'll be fine Su-chan."

"Is there anything I can do?" Mikoto recognised Touma's homeroom teacher. She also recognised the tall woman holding her arm from anti-skill.

"Tsukuyomi Komoe. What's my golden rule about kids?"

"Never to shoot one?"

"No, the other rule!"

Mikoto made her way up to the three women. "Excuse me."

"Yes, and who may you be?" It was the tall black haired woman from anti-skill.

"My name's Misaka and I'm a friend of Kamijou. We came here together. I was worried when I heard somebody say he may have drowned."

"He's fine." As if to prove it Touma let out a moan. "I'm Saigo, his school counsellor. The boy will be fine in a couple of minutes. He's only fainted I think."

The woman he called Su-chan spoke next. "I'm Oyafune Suama a maths teacher at his school."

"I'm Yomikawa Aiho, the P.E. teacher." Mikoto now had a name for face, and she was impressed. Mikoto had seen her in tough situations with anti-skill, and she knew what had happened during Saten's make up classes.

Finally, the homeroom teacher spoke. "I'm Tsukuyomi Komoe his homeroom teacher; at this rate probably for another year."

"Another year? How does that happen?"

"Yes, He's a nice boy but his grades and attendance are awful. If one was good, he may be safe, but I can't see it happening." It was then the homeroom teacher recognised her. "Aren't you Misaka Mikoto?"

"No!" That was possibly a bit too emphatic, but Mikoto quickly toned it down. "I'm one of the clones, number 12751. I'm only a level 2, not a level 5 like big sister." Then she blushed slightly." I've known Kamijou for a few weeks now." Mikoto noticed the P.E. teacher nudge the homeroom teach as soon as her complexion changed.

'Crack.' A slap came from behind, and Mikoto turned to see Saigo's hand finish a sweeping motion. The boy groaned, and slightly opened his eyes. "Are you OK Kamijou?" It was Saigo, and Mikoto could see the obvious concern on the older man's face.

"I think I'm fine." The next part of Touma's groggy response melted her heart. "Where's Misaka?"

"I'm good thanks." His eyes looked toward her, and she gave him what she thought was a demure wave, but it didn't quite come off as she'd hoped.

The counsellor tried to grab Touma's attention. "It's not normal for a Japanese person to faint in these situations Kamijou. This is part of our culture. Look, if you need my help, you know the door is always open Kamijou. Don't be the macho teenage boy and bottle things up."

"Yes, sir." It came out dazed, and for that moment he was decidedly cute, but Mikoto was now also impressed with his school counsellor. School counsellors at Tokiwadai helped you to understand how cliques worked to gain status. She'd thought about going to Touma's school, but had later dismissed it, because she'd be so far ahead by the time she left Tokiwadai. However, the staff obviously cared for their pupils Like living as a clone, could this be a life change she needed? It was then that Mikoto realised that the three older women had begun moving toward Touma, and Mikoto slid in behind.

"Misaka 12751 seems a lot nicer than those two idiots you usually spend time with in class. Why didn't you introduce us earlier?" Mikoto tried not to snigger as his homeroom teacher teased him.

"I'm impressed Kamijou that you wouldn't hold against the girl the fact she's a clone." That comment from the P.E. teacher was sincere, and the adorable look of shock on his face was too much and Mikoto buried her head under water, but it didn't work. A mouth full of sulphurous water. Her head burst back above the surface, and she coughed to clear her throat and thus became the new centre of attention.

It was Mikoto's cue to start making her way toward Touma. She wanted to be here with him, not these strangers, no matter how nice they were. "It's nice meeting you all but this level two came here to have a private chat with this level zero." She nodded politely to each of the teachers in turn and began drawing him back to where she'd been seated when he first entered the pool.

"Please don't tell anybody about this?" Mikoto nodded to Kamijou to indicate a yes. The next question used the tone he usually used when teasing her. "If I kill Tsuchimikado Motoharu, will you cover me?"

She giggled at that. "I was wondering when you'd figure out this was a set up." He didn't respond so she continued. "I'm willing to bet Maika has never been here… Kamijou. If Saten did this to me I'd be making the same request to you."

"I'd cover for you," and she loved the way he grinned back at her.

"Thanks, and thanks for bringing me here. I think Maika may have missed out. It's a really nice onsen. We also need to talk about Los Angeles and you leaving me behind." She sat him down next to her and tried not to scold him.

"Touma. I've told you before we're on the same path. We both save people. We both can be too proud for our own good sometimes."

"I wouldn't say…"

Mikoto already had planned a response that shot him down. "What's your attitude to middle schoolers?"

"Ummm." There was pleasure in having beaten him. There was unspoken pleasure in how cute he looked when she did.

"Exactly, and I don't want to see you hurt. I think you don't want to see me hurt too. If you were badly hurt and I could have saved you I'd regret not being there... but does the same apply in reverse?"

"Yes, but…"

"It needs to work both ways." That was a slight scold she shouldn't have let out, and she went back to the more mature tune she usually reserved for her female friends. "You asked once at the folk dance if you were my friend. You definitely are, but friends look out for each other. I find it really hard as the level 5 to let my friends look after me, but you make me look good."

That was as far as she could go, and even though she didn't want to, she blushed. The hand returned, with a gentle squeeze, before staying there. Comforting her.

"I promise I'll try to be better next time Mikoto."

"Thanks Touma."

She sat next to him as he held her hand under the water, both soaking in the warmth, occasionally glancing at each other. It must have been 20 minutes before he spoke.

"Is that Ookami." His finger was pointing up into the sky.

"Yes. I think that one's Subaru." Mikoto pointed slightly to the left.

"No Mikoto. Not quite," and he pushed her finger slightly upward." I used to make that mistake as well."

That started a conversation, and they began trading star names. Both made mistakes, but the correction was always in the same manner as his first. It was too good to last and Mikoto knew he needed to get back home to save himself. "If you need to get back to study, I understand."

"You know about my grades?"

"It was the second thing I asked. The first Saigo reassured me he had in hand. Why didn't you say something? I could have helped."

"It has something about being too proud to get help from middle schoolers, but if I can't figure something out I'll call you now."

Self-deprecating humour. It was a pleasant change. "Come on, it's time we were going." Mikoto wrapped the towel around herself and started stepping up out of the pool without thinking. She turned to see his eyes looking at her legs. You'd definitely not call him a 'Wani', the term for men who came to mixed onsen to stare at girls. Instead, the gaze wasn't too intense, but she could tell that he liked what he was looking at. She blushed only slightly, because tonight, Touma had been doing the confessing. Mikoto's now knew her biggest problem was to make him realise that.

It kept occupying her thoughts as she made her way back into the changing room through the red door, quickly showered and changed back into her street clothes. Mikoto was beginning to formulate a plan and she'd need to do it tonight. The only problem was she'd effectively confess to him, and of all places on a bus. It wasn't her romantic ideal, but it didn't feel like taking that much of a risk anymore either. Even better, she had 12751 on her side. She could deny it ever happened if it went badly. Mikoto snatched her bag, threw it over her shoulder, and walked out toward the foyer.

When she got there Touma hadn't arrived. Mikoto waited for him leaning with both hands on a refrigerated cabinet full of milk. Working over and over the plan through her head.

"Would you like a milk Misaka?" The voice came from behind.

"Yes please. I was wondering when you'd spend some of the 5000 yen on me."

"Yes, I am, but how did you know?"

Mikoto turned around to face him. "My father, Tabigake, doesn't quite approve of the matchmaking so he filled me in. Still, at this rate we could come back here a few times and I like this place."

"We'll see Misaka." It was an indefinite answer, but Mikoto was pleased enough with it. If she were right, they'd be back here next week. Touma paid for the two milks and handed her one first. After the heat of the onsen the bottle felt especially cold.

"Touma. Doesn't it seem odd to you we grabbed a cold drink on a winter night?"

"It does, but I thought drinking milk has something to do with helping growth." The fact he was trying so hard not to look down at her chest made her smile on the inside, and she did her best to hide that fact.

"You read too many Shonen manga. After World War Two Japan had a lack of refrigerators and a milk producer had the clever idea of distributing milk at bath houses because they did. It combined what were two luxuries in the same visit. Now the two are invariably linked together in Japanese culture." She clinked her bottle against his. One day could this be something more 'date like'?

They drank the milk as he followed her across the square. She felt his hand hold hers again briefly once they finished the milk whilst they waited at the bus stop. It was amazing he didn't realise, but the fact his mind wasn't getting in the way made it sweeter for her in a bizarre way. Then it was up into the bus, sitting side by side, just like on the way there. The bus started and with the twist of the hills Touma used his left hand, not his right as on the way up, to hold on. Then as they came back on the flat 'the hand' came down again. That was her cue.

"Touma. Have you ever thought about going out with a middle schooler?" Mikoto watched Touma shift slightly as she said it, but he did respond.

"Mikoto. I'd get hell from my classmates about going out with any middle schooler, or any girl much younger than myself. You know how Academy City works. If it were a person I was going out with when I left middle school that would be easier, but once in high school this barrier goes up." Tick one. Exactly as she expected.

Mikoto came back with a reply she had practically worked out beforehand. "So, for you it would be easier if a girlfriend was at least 16, probably not a high level esper, and not going to middle school." He didn't look at her after that, but she watched him breath in and out deeply before responding.

"It may not strike you as fair but we both know it would be the cold reality." Mikoto now understood that was head, not heart, talking. He talked differently for a start. Anyway, she had a trap to snap shut on him.

"You could go out with someone like Misaka 12751 quite easily though. She's 16, which your teachers can attest to, not at middle school, and only a level two, which your teachers can also confirm." She could see him wiggle, and there was a slight shake in that hand on top of hers.

"Mikoto. I know you've been behaving differently the last hour and I appreciate it, but I can't…" That was her cue to place her finger across his lips, her arm across her body, careful not to move the hand under his.

"Let me tell you a story Kamijou. Once there was a couple stalked around the underground mall. Not long ago she saw a photo showing both of them holding hands, at the time she didn't realise it." Mikoto turned and came face to face with Touma. It was almost too perfect. "The same girl was too proud to admit she wanted to go out with the boy and denied it, to her friends, even to herself for a long time. Her mother and her friends understood what was going on and thought her behaviour 'adorable'."

Mikoto nodded her head, indicating he needed to look down, and then watched. Touma eyes widened in front her. He wrenched his hand away from hers as though it was poisonous, but his eyes kept flicking from her hand to his hand and back again.

"You've been doing it all night Touma. On the way here. Under water when we sat next to each other in the onsen. Across the square you held my hand, and now on the journey back, just like that day in the underground mall. You woke up from that faint and the first thing you did in panic was enquire about me. You didn't notice but I did."

Mikoto had never seen Touma so stunned, so glued to the spot. She pushed an imaginary hair off his forehand and began to speak, and even she was surprised how much affection there was in her voice. "I need to go shopping now Touma. This is my stop here. I'm getting off early. You, I think, have something you need to consider on the journey back."

It was time to let him figure it out the rest for himself. Mikoto stood up and put her goggles on, slid past him and began walking down the aisle. She glanced back and he'd hadn't moved. A hiss and the doors opened in front of it, and she watched as Touma raised his head. A wave, a shy smile and Misaka Mikoto stepped off the bus. The doors closed behind her, the engine started to speed up, and the bus pulled away. A passer by would have thought the girl watching the bus moving away was one of the most content people in Academy City that night.

As the bus turned left at the intersection ahead, Mikoto turned right toward a chain store. This shopping strip in District 9 was known for the cheapest clothes in Academy City, and this particular store was the latest venture of the Shirai family. The big red store with the oiled concrete floors and basic chrome shop fittings was targeted at lower income teenage girls. Robot manufactured clothes, only in the latest colours, with an extremely limited range, but surprisingly well made, and so cheap even a Misaka clone could afford them. If Touma said yes, she needed to look more like 12751. Even if he didn't this had already been on her mind. Being normal, not even a level 3 like her Tokiwadai uniform told the world, was what she needed right now.

After half an hour Mikoto had 'the outfit' and was standing in a changing booth psyching herself up for what she was about to put on. The brown leather boots she'd already tried on, and they came up to the top of her calves. There was a thick winter yellow dress with a matching wide leather belt. A tube of hair mousse from the cosmetics counter sat on the shelf next to the mirror. There was a blue padded jacket with fur lining to the hood to cope with the weather outside. A surprising touch was underwear she could insert pads into. The irony of buying a bra like that from a store owned by Kuroko's family wasn't lost on Mikoto. The only concession to her previous taste was the cute flowers embossed onto the fake leather belt, and the daisies on the coat lining. A brown quilted tote bag with a yellow leaf pattern finished the look.

Slowly she slipped out of her old clothes into this new skin and looked into the mirror. The dress, boots and bra had affected a major change. Mikoto could imagine this was how somebody felt after one of those celebrity makeovers. It was time for the finishing touches. She messed up her hair with the mousse, rather than clipping it as she usually did. Next, she put on a little make up, and the figure looking out became even less her. Head from one side to another, almost trying to confirm it was still herself in the mirror. If she'd had to describe herself it to a third party, it would have been as the 'girl next door' from a film. Not the most beautiful girl in the film, but nonetheless attractive, and more importantly to her, the girl the hero ended up with in the end.

The final touch was removing her contacts and putting a pair of wire framed glasses on. "Holy crap." It was a definitely a stranger looking out at her. She ran out into the corridor room corridor outside the booth as it had a much bigger mirror. Standing sideways looking at the mirror was a revelation. She could pass for 16, and had a 16 year old figure. Mikoto turned 90 degrees for a front on view and couldn't fail to notice there was some cleavage for the first time ever. First her cheeks dimpled then a grin appeared on Mikoto's face in the empty room. "Hello 12751…welcome to my life."

7 a.m. The Next Day (New Year's Eve)

The alarm sounded but Mikoto had already been awake for an hour and was in the process of changing outside the School Garden. The Gekota phone was silent. It was switched off and the SIM card was in another phone. Her 'clone phone' was a base model standard touchscreen that had a silicone case adorned with pink flowers. Girly but not Gekota. She stuffed the rolled up remains of Tokiwadai Misaka tightly into the tote bag, opened the door of the toilet pod, and 12751 finally stepped out into Academy City. At this time of the morning the air was crisp and the streets relatively deserted.

Mikoto's target was a convenience store near a certain boy's dorm, and she began walking toward it. Most shops in the city had geared down from Christmas and were gearing up for Shogatsu, the New Year, but at this hour only the convenience stores were open. The pavement was lined with leafless trees in large concrete troughs and the only people on the street were two boys from Nagatenjouki sipping beer. As she walked closer Mikoto could see them blatantly examining her from head to toe, and as much as she didn't like it, she'd learnt something else. Young men found 12751 more attractive than Misaka Mikoto of Tokiwadai had ever been. Hopefully, the downside here would be the upside with a certain someone else.

Thankfully, she didn't have to walk past them and Mikoto dove into the convenience store ten metres short. It was tiny, the blinking of the overhead lights didn't add to the ambience, but it had everything Mikoto thought she needed. Into a basket went a packet of a dozen gyoza, half a dozen yakitori, and a trio of rice balls. There were some more expensive items, that he'd like, but Mikoto resisted. This cover had been created with care and blowing it on the first day was not going to be an option. With modest change from two thousand yen and a bag of bounty Mikoto started heading towards his dorm. Was this crazy? She was uninvited, but at the same time she didn't want New Year to be a screw up like Christmas Eve had been. Tonight was Omisoka, the New Year's celebration. Then there were three days of celebration, during which she usually did Hatsumode, and there was a certain someone she wanted to do all that with more than Kuroko, Uiharu and Saten.

As she turned the corner the trees stopped. The pavers on the pavement were replaced by plain concrete, and every painted surface became duller. This was his street. Nerves began taking hold and Mikoto's pace slowed as she walked toward her destination. Like a kid she was avoiding standing on the joints in the concrete, but it helped her take her mind off what she was about to do. Then finally, she came to a fence with a security gate, and a series off dull concrete flat roofed old school dorms were lined up at right angles to the main street. The only relief was a threadbare patch of glass and the more colourful student bikes.

The security gate was held open with a cable tie. The touchpad had long ago failed, and it was half filled with water. That was going to be more awkward. She'd have to go to his door, not pretend to be passing by as she'd planned. Mikoto stood there for 15 seconds, eyes closed, breathing deeply then began walking to the stairs. She'd come this far, to a place she'd known the location of for weeks but had been reluctant to visit, and the level 5 wasn't about to stop. Up the steps two at a time, and then along the open corridor to a door with a little nameplate on it with a handwritten 'Kamijou'. No bell, no knocker, which meant three taps with her knuckles on the door. There was no response. Another two taps only harder.

"Index is that you?" The voice was groggy and sounded as if it had just woken up.

"No Touma. It's somebody at the door. You answer it." The last part was barked like an order.

That was the point Mikoto's nerve finally left her, and she spun and started walking back toward the stairs.

"Misaka" She slowed. "12751?" She stopped.

A shout came from the flat. "Touma who came around this early and woke me up?"

"A good friend Index." Mikoto turned around to see Touma standing at the door of his room and still rubbing his eyes as he woke up. She'd been thinking of herself and come far too early. Colour started appearing in her cheeks as she started to feel like the middle schooler, despite the fact she no longer looked like one.

"I shouldn't have come. It's a bit soon. I apologise." The level 5 bowed as she said it and was still bowed when he spoke again.

"12751."

"Yes Touma." Mikoto began gradually raising her head.

"The outfit really suits you," and now Mikoto saw the smile that went with the words. "My fridge is also empty, so given," his head indicated back into the room, "I'm pretty interested in what you have there in that bag…Even without the food you're always welcome." He finished on a cheeky grin.

"You're sure its not only the food?"

Touma began characteristically scratching the back of his head. "I've been after a cute girl to help me with my homework for as long as I can remember." Then with a more serious edge. "Can we have some fun over the next few days and see how things go?"

Mikoto paused before responding. "There's Omisoka tonight and we could do Hatsumode in a couple of days."

"…and there's a series of maths problem I'd like your help with."

"I think I can do that Touma." Although she didn't realise it Mikoto's life would soon be divided into pre this moment and post this moment.

"Come on in you must be getting cold out here, and it's warmer inside." An outstretched guided Mikoto into the flat, and as she walked in the difference in their lives hit home. It was surprisingly large, but everything was worn, and in many cases battered. It needed painting for a start. Mikoto had expected something more like Saten's or Uiharu's dorm, but this was depressing. She'd seen his bedding in the bathroom and could see the nun still in the bed. There was more she would help with here than just homework, but her first challenge was in the bed in the middle of the floor. This would need carrot and stick, but today Mikoto's plan was 'carrot'.

"Touma. What's short hair doing here?" The Nun's belligerence wasn't camouflaged.

"Index. This isn't that Misaka. She's one of the clones. You'll be seeing a lot of 12751. Can you try and make her welcome please?"

Mikoto walked over to Index and crouched so she was at eye level. The nun's eyes flickered up and down then settled on a point somewhere behind the back of her head.

"I'm not fooled short hair."

Mikoto inclined her head to one side. "Not all clones are the same Index. I was the second clone they tried to give emotions. I understand mine worked significantly better than the other clone, but they don't understand why. They also wanted to see what happened if they left me in the artificial womb longer. It's made me a bit different from the others… and I'm pleased you think it has made me more like big sister." The nun was examining her face, but the unmoveable object sat on the bed had met a rather more unstoppable force, "…Anyway, Touma has told me a lot about you. He did say you were from the United Kingdom."

"Yes." The Nun was cautiously watching as Mikoto reached into her tote bag.

"These are for you Touma. I baked them last night at the kitchen where I'm living. I only had icing sugar, plain flour and butter, but that meant I could make these." Mikoto handed him a small paper bag with a 'T' on it and saw him smile as he looked inside. The jealousy on the Nun's face was so intense it would have been deafening if spoken. Mikoto's arm then rummaged in the tote bag again and out came a paper bag four times the size. "These are for you Index. I made you more as I thought they'd be a taste of home for you."

The bag was snatched from her hands, and two biscuits made their way into the Nun's mouth, which were quickly followed by another pair. Then with her mouth half full of biscuit came a guarded, "You seem much nicer than short hair 12751."

Mikoto smiled at that. The first small battle won. The sound from the kitchen caused her to look over her should and she saw that Touma had both hidden his bag and had started frying the gyoza.

"Touma, do you want help with the breakfast?"

"12751. If you could put the Yakitori in the microwave for 30 seconds to heat them up a bit that would be great …and 12751. Have you thought of a name rather than a number? It would be quicker to say, and a bit more individual."

Mikoto thought for a moment on this. She'd been born in early May not long before the cherry blossoms bloomed. Her mother had nearly given her another name, as she looked out the nursery window. "How about calling me Sakura?"

Touma smiled as he considered that name. "I could imagine you as a Sakura. Your cheeks are often the appropriate colour." He earnt a gentle punch in the arm for that. He pointed over to the bed, and Mikoto followed his outstretched finger. Index was eating the biscuits slower now, one by one, and watching anime. "You've won her over with those cookies. I tasted one and they were really nice, but I'm not sure Index will notice that. She's very much into quantity and not quality."

"I'm glad you liked them but they're not cookies. They're what the British call shortbread biscuits, and what the British would also call my 'carrot' to bring her around."

Mikoto stood next to him while he flipped the gyoza. Once the last one was turned over she felt Kamijou put his arm around her shoulders. "Touma, that isn't the unwritten 30 centimetre rule."

"Remember, Index is English and Othinus isn't Japanese either. Those cultural rules don't apply in this room because they don't know them. Question is, what do you want to do?"

Mikoto closed her eyes as she reached up to her shoulder and put her hand on top of his. "You can keep it there."

They stood there as the gyoza began turning light brown. The aroma reminding them both that they hadn't had anything to eat. A grumbling stomach was a cue for Touma to nervously scratch the back of his neck.

The little Japanese dumplings were nearly finished when the adverts came on the television. A growl came from behind, and Mikoto could feel Touma tense beside her. She had heard that growl before at Christmas Eve, before Index bit Touma. That was one thing that had to change, starting now.

Mikoto turned her head toward the nun, putting on a scowl befitting a wicked witch from a fairy tale, and that alone put fear into the nun's eyes. This was immediately followed by a three inch spark between her thumb and her middle finger that only Index could see. The crackle that accompanied the spark sounded like an electric bug zapper.

The effect was even more than she hoped. Index gulped and her gaze snapped back to the television. She continued to sit bolt upright as she watched it, slowly eating the remaining biscuits one by one, as the gyoza sizzled in the pan.

"Did something just happen then Sakura?" Touma was looking at Mikoto.

"Nothing really Touma." Then an evil little smile that couldn't be held back appeared.

Touma cast his eyes at her then turned back to the pan. "With a smile like that I think I probably should know."

Mikoto's reaction was almost involuntary. She blushed, she bit her bottom lip, and looked down at the kitchen bench.

"Just a little bit of," then she glanced up to see he had a bit of the devil in his smile too, "…what the British would call… 'stick'."