The voice was one completely unfamiliar to Kuroko and nothing about the girl's appearance stood out as familiar—the purple cast to her eyes was distinctive but apart from that, she looked much the same as any other schoolgirl in the city. The most noteworthy thing about this stranger's appearance was the uniform: like the Tokiwadai uniform worn by herself and onee-sama, the individual pieces were simple but tasteful, and signalled the girl as attending Nagatenjouki Academy.
What business could a student with another school have with the Railgun? If she were the same age, then maybe they could have been classmates in the past, but this stranger was obviously older.
"I thought you were some delinquent sleeping on a bench," the girl said, focus entirely on Misaka—only briefly giving Kuroko any attention, "Regrettably, it seems you've found out about the project. There's nothing you can do to stop it."
This immediately got a reaction out of the downcast Railgun, her eyes widening in panic. Even if she had questions, even if she wanted to know why anyone would do this, she couldn't ask and let on that she knew, "I don't kno—"
"Onee-sama, you told me you had no idea!" But if she did, that explained why even Kuroko's good news failed to lift her spirits. An entire project couldn't revolve around a single clone like that. "How many are there?"
If the Nagatenjouki girl was surprised by the teleporter that had just relocated in front of her, her expression didn't show it. "As I told the original, don't get involved."
"No, you didn't."
"Oh dear, I didn't?" she said, sheepishly looking away. "Knowing will only make it worse on yourself. You're not strong enough to do anything about it."
The same words thrown at Misaka just a few nights before had much the same dissuasive effect on Kuroko: that was to say, none at all. "I cannot do nothing while a madman kills people! I already know that much, knowing more to try and stop it can't be worse."
That just brought it round to the question that Misaka wanted answered, didn't it? "How? How can he do this? I don't know what all this 'Level 6' nonsense is about, but is it really worth so many deaths? The people involved in those experiments must be mad."
Level… 6? What sort of fanciful idea was that? There were only five levels of esper ability, and if even the number one who onee-sama spoke of with such dread was still a level 5, what could possibly be above that? A question that would go unanswered, just like how many deaths this was.
But the overall picture was clear, just from that little snippet. That boy hadn't attacked the clone from some fanciful notion of proving himself against onee-sama, and the reason for any sort of clone at all was…
She was right, the people involved in the experiments must be mad. What sane person would try to do something so immoral, so illegal, just to chase a hypothetical idea?
"That's not exactly true," the other girl, still not introduced, said, gaze drifting over to the city beyond, "While I'll admit that, to some extent, we're all nuts, talking about what's right or wrong is completely different.
"For example, say there was the possibility to cure cancer with a magic bullet, but in order to develop it, the data from 20,000 guinea pigs were necessary. I'm sure you're thinking there's no other choice."
That… 20,000?
"Guinea pigs aren't people."
Was that how many clones were assigned to die in this experiment? It was a number that defied easy comprehension. Human social groups rarely grew beyond 150 individuals. As exclusive as Tokiwadai was, there were only 180 students attending, nearly enough to individually know everyone in attendance.
"They're lives, all the same."
To kill 20,000 people would be the same as killing everyone that she knew over a hundred times each. The scale of it… how many had already died? How many more would die before this came to an end? How could someone go along with this?
Legs weak, Kuroko staggered back, collapsing onto the bench. The messy-haired girl's eyes, previously on Misaka, drifted to the sky instead.
"At least in the eyes of those researchers they're the same. Those guinea pigs are artificially created to reach Level 6. Of course, there are some who work on it out of personal greed. And there are some who really have a few screws loose." All of them, Kuroko thought, to deny personhood so easily for scientific gain. "But they don't think what they're doing is murder."
"I was the same."
"You were spreading out those cash cards to interfere with the experiments, right?"
"Yes."
That was where those cash cards had come from? This girl, one that had bought into that abhorrent mindset, had been leaving money around to… prevent the fights? Thinking to her own involvement… he hadn't said much, but the Level 5 had been surprised by her involvement. Kuroko had only been there by a fluke of a report that would normally have gotten no response.
Of course, no experiment like this could be conducted openly. If it would be widely discovered, then it couldn't start. If it was, then…
The shadow of a train came to mind.
"Why? Why protect artificial creatures if they aren't even human?"
"Onee-sama!" She couldn't really believe that!
"When the Radio Noise Project, the plan to mass-produce Level 5's, was suspended, I left the team for a while."
If she had never met any of the clones for herself, Kuroko would have never believed any of this. Now there had been a project to mass-produce the very strongest espers? It all sounded like the urban legend rubbish that Saten was so interested in. In this case… no matter how it strained her willingness to believe, the teleporter had met a clone, the bloodstains on her clothing a stark reminder. A highschool girl being part of a research team for such a project was scarcely any less believable than that, given the uniform she wore.
"But when they decided to use the Sisters for the Level 6 Shift project, they called me back."
The girl launched into a story, relating how she had been reviewing the progress of the experiments, offering to share her tea with one of the clones—Sisters, to use the project term for it. Understandable, Kuroko had essentially claimed the same relation to onee-sama to complete the form. How even after 8911 experiments, she thought the Sisters had developed no emotions.
8911. No matter how fast it was stopped now, at least half of the experiment was completed. Nearly 9000 cases of murder that had been swept under the rug, never to be reported.
How she had led the clone to the surface, and only then realised from the girl's wonder at the site of the sky and Academy City below it, that they were people too.
"But after that, I couldn't see them as guinea pigs anymore. To me, the world is just this twisted, ugly thing. I thought that she was far more human than I.
"How do you see them?"
What sort of question was that? Why else would they be having this conversation if onee-sama didn't see the clones as people and the act as—
"I don't want to accept my clones as human. I don't want to help people who calmly accept being slaughtered."
Kuroko's expression would have looked little different if she had actually been -sama couldn't be telling the truth! She was too good a person for that, had put herself in danger to help others far too often! There was no way that she would really abandon people just because of how they were born or their own indifference, was there?
"But those bastards who used my DNA map for such a stupid experiment… I won't let them get away with it."
"You're not being honest."
"That's a lie!"
The other two girls spoke in sync but Misaka ignored them both, rising from the bench and slowly beginning to walk away from the stunned Kuroko and stoic researcher.
"There are more than 20 facilities involved in the project. Are you going to do this alone?"
Kuroko wanted to speak up and deny that she would ever be doing something alone. But the idea of what they were entertaining, shutting down a project by force… even for the sake of saving lives, could she really accept that this was the best plan? If onee-sama knew about this, she must have information, they could take that to anti-skill. Or… there must be some other way to interrupt it…
"Just who do you think I am?"
The trip back to the dorm was fraught, as Kuroko's attempts to clarify her understanding were rebuffed at every opportunity. Although Misaka had seemingly accepted that there was going to be no hiding the extent of the project from the teleporter, the most clarification she was willing to give was to name Nunotaba, and even that was an accident. Her chosen approach was that if Kuroko didn't know any specifics, then she couldn't get herself in danger any further.
Kuroko briefly considered contacting Uiharu but ruled that out. The amount of trouble that Uiharu could get into if she was caught trying to break into top-secret project files wasn't worth the chance of getting information that way. There had to be something else…
But first, there was the little matter of surviving the morning.
"Onee-sama…"
"What, Kuroko?" was the exasperated response.
"You know how we were both out after curfew last night…?"
That brought Misaka to a stop. Now that she thought about it, she had been relying on Kuroko to automatically cover for her again. If Kuroko had been out all night for the same reason, as soon as they got through that front door, then…
"Wh-What do we do? If the Dorm Mistress is watching us closely, we won't be able to do anything!" Both in terms of Misaka stopping the Level 6 Shift and simply going out and about for the rest of the summer. It would be impossible to do anything if they were constantly in detention.
The teleporter didn't seem anywhere near so panicked, so she had to have a plan. Or had simply accepted her inevitable fate with uncharacteristic grace.
"Simple: you spent the night with Kuroko." The younger girl said, hastily adding after the first sign of sparks, "At the hospital! I have the documentation to prove it, we just need to say that it was before curfew."
But she couldn't resist, "Though if you want to spend a night with me again~"
The resulting shock only helped sell the idea Kuroko had just been discharged from hospital.
Unfortunately, the same excuse wouldn't help with explaining why Kuroko's leg was bandaged to anyone else, and Tokiwadai's regulations wouldn't allow for simply wearing a longer skirt to cover it up. There was no way to avoid meeting up for the days it would take before the bandages needed to come off—particularly after onee-sama had proposed meeting up in Joseph's to apologise for worrying Uiharu last night.
As much as it rankled her pride, she would have to explain it as a teleportation accident. Kuroko never made mistakes like that anymore, but the truth would only invite the others into danger and any other explanation would only grow into a story with far too many holes. At least it stung less that their concern outweighed the desire to tease her for such an obviously rookie mistake.
It was, in the teleporter's own opinion, a far better explanation of what could possibly have been happening last night than onee-sama's story about stargazing. At least the weather had been clear; checking a weather report wouldn't disprove that story. As long as it stopped anyone from looking deeply, it was fine.
"By the way, did you ever find out what that code you asked about yesterday was for?" Uiharu asked.
"What code?" Yes, what code? If only onee-sama had told me everything…
"Well…"
"O-Oh! That? That was… Uh…" Onee-sama's hands were shaking around the tea. The Level 6 Shift. Whatever code they had been talking about, it had to have been involved with the project.
"Onee-sama?" Kuroko asked, leading the round of concerned remarks. What could she say here? Anything would let on how much she knew.
"I can see them… I… can see them all… that's why…" There was still nothing Kuroko could say. Even if she intellectually knew everything that was happening, it still didn't feel quite real. She had seen… that… but she wasn't in Onee-sama's position. It wasn't her clone.
It wasn't her that had spent the night thinking her best friend and unwanted duplicate had been crushed by a train.
"An arcade! Let's go to an arcade, Misaka-san! I want another round with you on that punching machine."
That… was a good idea, wasn't it? After last night, they could both do with something to take their mind off it, if only for a few hours. Kuroko could even invite onee-sama to visit the hospital with her afterwards whilst the others were occupied with something.
"Just don't forget this: we're here for you. If you can't handle it yourself, just tell us whenever." As much as Kuroko wanted to agree with Saten, putting on a smile herself, this time…
If onee-sama kept on her current path, could Kuroko really help her?
It was a lone teleporter that visited the hospital late that afternoon. Why does onee-sama want to avoid this so much?
Was she upset that much by the thought of someone else sharing her face? Kuroko just couldn't understand what about the idea of meeting the Sister again was so distressing. Maybe it was her own biases speaking, as she couldn't imagine anything better than an entire room full of onee-sama lookalikes and the original.
"Hello, I'm here to visit Misaka-san?"
The receptionist on duty looked up at Kuroko, then back at the patient details. "Misaka Miyu, was it?"
Kuroko nodded. There ought to be only one Misaka in the hospital, and the name fit… but where had that given name come from? Did the Sisters have individual names after all?
"Room 703."
Kuroko thanked the receptionist and made her way through the hospital. Something about the name didn't sit right with the idea of a project that treated clones as disposable. Not only would it make no sense to try and think of 20,000 separate names with that attitude, after over eight thousand there was no chance of still having names that would possibly match onee-sama's own in some fashion. There weren't even three thousand characters available for names…
Her path to the room in question inevitably went past a vending machine. It would only be polite to bring some sort of gift if you were the only visitor, wouldn't it? The Sister—Miyu—had been particularly attached to that Gekota badge, and this machine had some of that ridiculous Gekota-themed chocolate for sale.
She had to wonder if there was a genetic component to childish obsession with a mascot character.
Kuroko's attempt at retrieving her intended gift was unfortunately stymied by that cruelty of physical chance: the selected chocolate had inexplicably wedged itself against the glass. How did a bar of chocolate even do that? It was large, yes, but not some massive novelty size.
The Kuroko of a few days ago would have had no recourse in this situation but to make another purchase and hope that it dislodged the wayward chocolate bar. Or to bang fruitlessly on the vending machine in the hope that this shock would do more than lock the machine for security purposes. But even with the rather more disturbing events of the past day, this Kuroko remembered her pencil experiments.
It would be harder. Considerably harder. Kuroko had never teleported this chocolate bar and couldn't know what its values were. But when it came down to it, was that any different than her normal teleportation? The element of intuition in determining the weight and size of any given object couldn't be totally overcome. If extrasensory perception played any role in Kuroko's normal activities, it would be in gauging such unknowns.
So… start from the opposite of normal. There was nothing in her hand, and she wanted to reach out with this nothing. It was just a small jump. Kuroko could do this; all her practice yesterday proved that. Then it was just her normal teleportation but backwards—on the objective level, only the order was difficult, this was the same thing she always did.
Even with the confidence from her previous successful attempt, minutes ticked by with the teleporter's gaze narrowing on the obstinate chocolate. Another visitor took one glance at the schoolgirl's near-glare and decided he could do without a drink right now.
The chocolate wiggled suggestively, but only wedged itself further against the glass.
Then, with a suddenness that really shouldn't be surprising to a teleporter, the purchased chocolate was freed from the vending machine, sliding across her hand without warning, despite her expecting stillness. It seemed that on top of the time taken, Kuroko really needed to work on the specifics of this new trick; everything should have been stationary.
Now she thought about it, it was a good thing the other visitor had left. She didn't need to pick up a reputation for petty theft.
"'Are all Tokiwadai students this lame or am I just unlucky?' asks Misaka as she takes the chocolate anyway."
"You're the one with the Gekota badge!" Kuroko said. At least she could never get onee-sama confused with the Sisters, if they were all like this. Whilst they might look identical, the lack of expression was entirely unfamiliar, it seemed that the affection for Gekota was not genetic, and of course there was the unusual speech. It was still very attractive on its own.
"'It was a gift from onee-sama,' says Misaka, defending her actions."
From onee-sama? There was only one person onee-sama could be who would give out Gekota merchandise, which meant onee-sama had already spent some time with the Sister here? Her refusal to even consider visiting had only gotten more confusing. Why would you give someone a gift then pretend they didn't exist?
Where did you even start on talking with a clone of your best friend and roommate? Maybe the awkward conversation was onee-sama's reason for not visiting.
So, she started with the obvious: introducing herself. It was hard to tell if this was new information to the other girl, her face staying completely unmoved. If it weren't for the need to blink, she could have passed for a statue seated in the hospital bed.
"'This Misaka has been told she is called Miyu,' says Misaka, making a first introduction to the best of her ability."
"Been told? You mean this wasn't always your name?"
"'Yes, a frog-faced doctor gave me this name earlier. He said that it was a safety precaution,' says Misaka as she remains confused by this concern. 'This is the second time someone has shown unnecessary concern for my wellbeing.'"
Of course, it would be confusing to a clone produced only to die when someone saved their life, even if the person doing the saving had no idea at the time that it was a clone. Not that Kuroko would have done anything different if she had known. She hoped that she was a better person than that.
Uncomfortable silence crept into the hospital room once again. Miyu had no life experience to make small talk about, and Kuroko had no idea where to start. The clone's entire life consisted of the experiment, and…
And, more than anything, Kuroko needed to know the details.
"Can you tell me about the Level 6 Shift project?"
"'Without the confirmation code, Misaka are not supposed to talk about confidential details with anyone,' says Misaka as she searches for a loophole, 'But Misaka-9982 was killed at the end of experiment 9982. Misaka Miyu was never given such an instruction. If someone already involved in the project was to ask, I can answer.'"
In the injured girl's blank expression, Kuroko fancied that she could, just faintly, see a glimmer of hope.
"Tell me."
AN: Fairly obviously, a large portion of the initial conversation is verbatim from Railgun S.
Why Heaven Canceller? Because it's much harder to surreptitiously off a patient that has an established legal identity, and patients getting murdered is the opposite of keeping them alive. The security for the Level 6 Shift project is also not run by a Kihara; that level of boldness over what is (then) a deniable asset is simply not worth the risk.
As for the name in question-Kuroko might not be familiar with Misuzu, but she does know Mikoto's name. In both cases, their name is the character for beauty (美) followed by a character for an instrument (a specific type of bell, and the koto). The yu is a Chinese instrument with Japanese descendants; and although the character isn't used in Japanese names, more than enough versions of Miyu exist. And Kuroko is exactly enough of a fancy rich girl to pick up on this. I may have overthought that a little.