.
.
.
IX.
Catch-22
Accelerator knew people. He knew how they saw him. He knew what kind of stares and whispers he'd get when out in public. What he didn't understand, in this moment, however, was the deep rooted hatred burning like fire through fabric in the other girl's eyes as she glared unblinkingly at him. He had not even managed to lift a finger to do anything. At least not yet.
"Me?"
He replied flatly, with a same expression to match, which seemed to only aggravate her more. Her nostrils flared, and her hands lowered to skim through just right at the corners of her skirt, and Accelerator readied his hand, just in case he'd need to hit on the choker's switch if the glower he was receiving was any indication for more hospitality.
"Yes you – How could you even think of showing yourself here after everything you've done to Onee-sama, huh?! You freaky, selfish, intolerant bas – "
"Friend of yours?"
He said flatly, which seemed to have woken up the girl in his mind from the shock.
"Yes!" Mikoto squeaked, turning around frantically. "Change of plan. Time to go."
"What? You dragged me here brat. I ain't going nowhere until we see this chick and get our shit sorted ou – "
"I know what I'm saying!"
She snapped, cutting him off as she stared at the wild girl marching their way. Mikoto knew that look in Shirai Kuroko's eyes. She would know that look anywhere when something happened to her. "Look, it doesn't matter you're the strongest guy out here. She's the last person you'd want to have a beef with. Can we please just go? We can come back tomorrow – "
"Stop it right there you!"
Too late, Accelerator mused, and watched with a strange sense of curiosity as the pig-tailed girl halted to a stop in front of him. Her nostrils were flaring, her knuckles were turning white, and there was a wild, crazed stare in her eyes – usually people would only don this look after he's managed to have done some damage. Accelerator's brows furrowed under his pale bangs.
"What?"
x
x
x
For Misaki Shokuhou, that afternoon was supposed to be just like any other day.
Class had just ended, and the blond had wasted no time in walking out, a trail of girls – both younger and older than her, following closely behind. Any welcoming smiles, soft voices spoken her way was met with the Level Five's usual ignorance. She knew why she had this club founded, she understood how she needed these girls, but the way they would tread around her never made it any easier to feel normal, or just a sense of belonging. She was a bloated balloon waiting for a needle, and whoever made the wrong move would be the one getting it blown to their face first.
It kind of sucked. At least Misaka knew how to hide it behind her nauseously cheerful and friendly acts.
The fact that the infamous brunette was absent from school and in a "temporally" coma only made it worse. Ever since word got around that 'the' Misaka Mikoto got into an exceptionally nasty fight that left her breathing through a tube and lying motionless in a hospital bed, Misaki had been Tokiwadai's newfound hope, and the sheer idea of it made her sick to her stomach. She was never anyone's role model, and she never should be dammit. Hell, she was one of the reasons their beloved Ace was put in that state in the first place.
Skimming through everyone's thoughts at school only made her frustrations more unbearable, so Misaki had been doing one of the few little things she knew she exceled at, and promptly ignored everything around.
Maybe that was probably why, when she finally reached Tokiwadai's obnoxiously extravagant gate, it took her an embarrassingly long while to make sense of what was happening, and when it finally it, Misaki Shokuhou could have sworn her own heart had stopped at the sight of a very familiar, and very terrifying figure.
x
x
x
"Trudging in right here and acting like you have every right to be – as a proud member of Judgement, I demand to know what and why you are here, you freaky, obdurate – "
Accelerator's brows deepened, a crowd had started to form around them, consisting of mostly whispering, pointing teenage girls, and yet Shirai Kuroko – as she had so proudly claimed herself to be for the past five minutes, had not seemed to have noticed it one bit. He'd stopped listening after "albino, unapathetic bastard" and had started trying to look through the forming crowd for any trace of the other Level Five chick again, but Misaka Mikoto still hadn't stopped yelling in his head to just turn around and walk away "before she tried to teleport a needle through your throat you asshole!". (They both knew it was total bull. Accelerator would turn Kuroko's ignorant Judgement ass on herself faster than she could finish saying bastard again, but even Mikoto was proud enough to not say that out loud.)
Alas, in the end, Kuroko, who seemed to have realized she'd only been screaming to a brick wall, was finally fed up and was trying to reach for a needle strapped under her skirt. The move of course did not escape Accelerator's trained eyes, and the top Esper was more than ready for it – his AIM shield sturdy and the choker fully charged and switched on. He would shut this arrogant brat down once and for all, Misaka's feelings be dammed, when something suddenly caught the corner of his eyes.
Or someone, if Misaka's previous description of "arrogant, overgroomed blondie" was any indication.
Hey hey geez shut it for a sec, he told the fretting girl in his head, and discreetly jutted his chin to the direction he was looking at. Is that the girl?
Mikoto halted in her haze, and furrowed her brows at where Accelerator was pointing at, Kuroko's villain rage suddenly forgotten. True enough, the tall, elegant blonde, still in her trademark white lace gloves and thigh highs, was staring unblinkingly their way with wide, disbelieving eyes, a bunch of minions surrounding her also frozen in their spots. She wished she could be surprised Misaki would recognize Accelerator.
"It's her," she quietly told him, shoulders slumping.
"About damn time."
Accelerator thought, and readjusted his cane. Not even sparing the girl in front of him a second glance, he promptly moved past her and trudged forward, the silent crowd automatically parting a way for him – the guy's threatening aura unmistakable. The blond girl seemed to have woken from the initial shock at his movement, and instinctively moved a few steps backwards until she noticed the dark glare in his bloody eyes. Misaki's hand was still clutching at the strap of her bagpack when he stopped in front of her.
"You're the mind-reader Level Five – "
"Misaki Shokuhou." Mikoto said.
"Misaki Shokuhou?"
He repeated, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The girl looked ready to break into a sprint as soon as he turned around, and him looking bored while trying to have a decent conversation with her was the last thing they needed right now. Accelerator had been (and listened) to too much crap to back out then.
The blonde nodded, her elegant, perfectly trimmed brows slowly furrowing, but that was all the confirmation Accelerator needed.
"We need to talk," he told her.
"About me," the girl in his head said.
"About Misaka Mikoto."
He finished, feeling absolutely fed up with the day. If this chick tried to make this anymore difficult than it already was, he was gonna go kill something, the mission be dammed.
Luckily for them, Misaki Shokuhou seemed to have much more sense than a lot of people around here – a strange exception out of the bunch of Level Five's. The girl had simply nodded, silent at the mention of the Electro girl's name, and gently released her hold on her bagpack.
Accelerator figured that was their cue, and quickly gave her a sign to leave with him right away by inclining his head and turning away. Misaka Mikoto didn't say anything more, neither did the girl, and he wasn't sure if this was a sign to something better or worse.
x
x
x
"So, uh, you knew what happened to Misaka-san I suppose?"
The girl, as they went into an empty street corner a couple feet away from Tokiwadai, started, albeit awkwardly.
"More or less," Accelerator shook his head. He'd expected himself to be the one doing all the prodding and questioning, not a two-way conversation. This chick turned out to be not so bad after all, no wonder she and Misaka didn't get along.
Hey, I heard that.
"But it's not enough," he continued, promptly ignoring the fuming girl in his head. "Look, I need you to tell me everything you saw on that day."
"That's fine enough for me," Misaki shrugged, the tensed manner slowly slipping away now that she realized the pale Esper hadn't been leaking out any killing intent. He seemed to only be fixated on what he was asking her for, which was odd considering who they were talking about. Her brows furrowed at the thought, and she carefully peeked up at the guy in front of her. Since she couldn't possibly tread through his mind, maybe – "But why would you want to know this?"
Misaki could almost see the thought running through his mind. The older guy obviously had anticipated this question, his eyes snapped shut for just a second and the breath he released was just a tad louder than usual when he finally looked at her again.
"I know this shit sounds weird, and abnormal, and whatever, but it's the truth," he said, voice flat and stoic yet still full of warning. "Believe it or not, the Railgun's body is the only thing lying in that hospital, because her consciousness is trapped in my mind right now."
x
x
x
"I beg your pardon?"
Misaki repeated, flatly staring after the white-haired boy in front of her. Accelerator has always been a troubling equation to solve, but even people like him had to have limits, or maybe she really was that clueless. The blood red eyes looking back at her did not help their case at all right at the moment.
That was a horrible explanation.
I ain't repeating shit.
Accelerator grumbled, mentally rolling his eyes at the brunette. Mikoto was finally looking a little less troubled and more amused, and he really started to regret hoping for her to be so just moments ago.
"Look," he muttered, ruffling up his bangs and looking at anywhere else besides the blonde. "I'd show you if I could, but I cannot. So take it as it is. I'm not here to relay crap to you. I just need to know what happened that night, because whatever voodoo trick you pulled with your powers, it's affecting the Network, and that wench – "
The girl's hand had started to tighten around the strap of her bag again, and Accelerator took his chance, staring straight back at her wide, startled golden eyes.
" – and me."
x
x
x
"His name was Kihara Gensei,"
Misaki sighed, rubbing at her elbow. Just the thought of the self-obsessed scientist was enough to run chills up her spin, and upon peeking up at the guy in front of her, she supposed they shared the same point of view.
Of course it was a fucking Kihara.
Inwardly, Accelerator tutted, feeling just a tad bit like exploding something up. He should have seen this coming honestly. Kihara would sniff out anything that had the tiniest trace of "Level 6" on it. Getting their dirty hands on other Level Five's after him should only be inevitable.
"He used a device I built up to amplify my powers and used it on Misaka-san," she explained. "By the time I found out about it, she was too far gone."
"Where's that thing then?"
"Destroyed during the transformation," she shook her head, before suddenly remembering something. "I…I still have a remote I used at that time. It probably won't help much but it maybe something."
"Good enough – "
"It's in my dorm though…"
"…Your dorm? Tokiwadai dorm?"
"I mean, I go there…so yes."
God fucking dammit.
Stop with the cursing already, geez.
x
x
x
"Are you sure about this?"
"Did it look like I was welcomed in that hellhole just now? Yes I am sure about this."
"I mean, I can erase memory. We can just walk in and out and it'll just be like nothing's happened."
Accelerator frowned at the thought, but then pictures of the pig-tailed hellion with needles under her skirt (who the fuck stacks needles under their skirts?!) and the blood-thirsty eyes stuck to his every move mentally popped up, and he forcefully shut down any ideas about walking past that school's gate again.
"Just go."
The blonde gave him a look, but she didn't do anything more than passing him a nod before going on her way. A few girls started surrounding her as soon as she reached the campus, and Misaki passed through them breezily, ignoring the trail of following girls. Accelerator was almost tempted to whistle.
"Damn, what is she? Tokiwadai's Miss Beauty Pageant?"
"You can say that," Mikoto mumbled, and that was definitely a sigh he heard in his head.
"So what're you then?"
"Not enough, One. Never enough."
She's on a nickname basic with him now, Accelerator wondered if the chick noticed, not that he'd ever say so. Dawn was breaking down behind them, dark spots covering over the clouds, and he quickly crutched back into a neat corner hiding from plain sight. There's something odd in the air today, and somehow he had a feeling Last Order's tea party would have to wait for a while.
x
x
x
Here's what Shirai Kuroko knew.
Misaka Mikoto was a trainwreck in the making, with nothing and no one to stop it, how matter how much and how long they consistently stayed. Kuroko was one of them.
Not that knowing this helped her case at all. Mama always complained about how stubborn and hard-headed she could be, and this was her proof – her most obvious, most truthful evidence. Onee-sama could whine, push her away, tape her out with electricity, but the truth was that Shirai Kuroko was hopelessly, endlessly infatuated with the Level Five's notorious brunette.
She was there, every night, sometimes early and sometimes late but she would always make sure to be there – stacking Mikoto's quiet ward with Gekota's and flowers. Sometimes, she saw her mother. Sometimes, she came with Uiharu and Saten.
One time, she saw him.
Touma was the only guy to visit, although the only time he did was when he carried Onee-sama's lifeless body here. She never saw him again and just the sheer fact of it put fires to her very core. She lost her faith in boys a long time ago, but Mikoto never has. Mikoto doesn't lose faith in anyone but herself.
This boy was different, though. It wasn't hard to tell, he looked the exact opposite of Touma even as she could only see a glimpse of him from the furthest corner outside of Mikoto's ward. His hair was as white as snow, skin almost as pale as the walls surrounding them. There's a crutch in his hand, although the hairs at the back of her head told her to never underestimate those gangly arms and legs.
She waited for him to do something – anything. Touma sat at the chair beside the bed with his hands in his hair, never once looking up, yet this guy didn't even sit. He just stood there, almost like a statue had she not seen the white of his knuckles around the crutch. That was how she knew he had something to do with Mikoto. That was when she knew.
Saten, for all her urban legends' obsession, wouldn't understand the world they lived in. Uiharu only knew more because of their line of work in Judgement, but this guy was of something else – something above all of them and yet he came to Misaka Mikoto like clockwork, like her. And when he showed up on their campus, her and her Onee-sama's school, everything in her just snapped.
Kuroko's instincts were running wild. It's only been a few hours since the white-haired terrain and that Misaki Shokuhou left Tokiwadai campus, and she needed to find Uiharu fast. She'd managed to teleport away before Misaki could pull her nasty mind-erasing tricks on her, although the crowd that saw them weren't so lucky, not that she minded. Uiharu texted her earlier, something about a little girl with an ahoge that needed help, but she figured she should be back in the office by now.
When she burst into Judgement, only the silence greeted her back.
x
x
x
"She's not the first Level Five you met."
Somewhere between waiting for a blonde and dying out of boredom in an empty street corner of Tokiwadai Middle School, the Misaka Mikoto in his head was suddenly feeling chatty. Accelerator wasn't very amused.
"So?"
"I don't know. It's just weird," she shrugged like it didn't matter, but he knew that tone better. "She's the first I knew and came into contact with. Touma knew her too. But then there was this explosive chick, Four – she's kinda crazy – "
"Fuck yes she is –"
"Oh wow you knew her too? Great so I'm not alone then. And then this guy who was there with Touma when I, you know, he was a Level Five too…"
"What the hell are you on about?"
"I'm just saying," she repeated, exasperated, looking at him. Somehow, her eyes were darker than he remembered. "There's legit only seven of us in this city – hell, this world probably and we're all connected and screwed up in some ways yet we never even asked for help from each other. People built buildings for us like we're some kind of war heroes and we don't even know each other."
"Yeah. And that was smart," he muttered. "They handled one freak at a time. Sick motherfuckers."
There was silence, and when Accelerator thought he was finally off the hooks, she spoke again.
"I saw you. When…when you were in their research facility I mean…I wasn't being noisy I swear. Just that, you thought about it sometimes."
He didn't answer her back, but Mikoto knew better. He had his nights as much as she would, more even. And in the cramped space that was his mind they shared, there wasn't any barriers to turn herself away from such personal things. It's a myriad of tiny memories, like a shattered mirror. Dozens and dozens of glass shards like needles in his skin, on her skin.
Everything was always so hazy, but she could make out enough – could make out walls trapping him inside, food trays being shoved through a peephole, sharp needles stuck in too young, too bony wrists.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't need your fucking sorry."
Inside, something in him snapped. Accelerator knew she wasn't sorting through his memory, it's already ingrained in her own and he could see himself in it. Cold, small, naked to gloved hands and the fury sluiced down his stomach like liquid acid.
There were days – days he'd choke himself to death before going through again but there were days. And. There's a day when men in white coats came down and looked at him for a long time. They pulled back the steel door and stared at him through just the bars. Opened the bars and ogled him through the open door.
It didn't seem to matter much. He's been cold for years then. Barefoot and raw-bloody fingertips and his voice like he's been chewing glass.
But they pushed him out of that room, pulled clothes over him and put him into a coma. "Child," they hushed, "Errors," they said, and he told himself he would rip the heads out from their bodies as soon as he got out of this shithole.
He was a quiet child in their hands, but there was one who wasn't. There was one who screamed and howled and let himself be sedated, put into a bed as they tore out his abilities – the tall, lanky young boy that created a substance of his own. The boy that glared at him through the peephole and grinned at him through the glass before they took him away.
"Who was he?"
There were rocks in her throat, but somehow Mikoto knew she needed to hear this.
"Too much, Third. Always too much."
(TBC)
A/N: Somehow the further I go the further I stray from the canon timeline sighs
Anyways, last time I updated this story was five months ago. That's pretty sad. I screwed up my Accounting class and I'm missing the first week of this upcoming Spring semester though so yeah, life's been great! /dammitihatecollege/
But family and friends and good Vietnamese food saved me a bit, I've definitely missed home a lot. Still in Hanoi right now even though I should be packing to leave again, it sucks. Buuuuuuut since I'm not going to school next week, I'm gonna see how much I can continue these upcoming chapters.
Thanks a lot for reading and favoriting and following~~~ Review as you may!