It was all a blur.
All a blur.
One moment she was in the air.
The next she was in that room.
Each scene was blurred by watery, distraught eyes.
Kuroko was on autopilot, flying through the air and phasing in and out on instinct. Her wet cheeks stung as the wind blasted them, the cooling effect amplified by the tears that flowed from her near-red eyes. The concept of time escaped her, with only the night sky giving a hint at what a clock would tell her if she saw one. To teleport like this was dangerous, mad even, but she did not care.
She just wanted to go home.
She just wanted to be with Mi-
"-koto!" Kuroko screamed as a bolt of electricity zoomed past her, nearly striking and scorching her temple. Her best friend's name tore through her throat and felt odd on her tongue, but the argument had escalated to such a point that it was the only thing she thought she could say to try and get across her fear, despair and anger.
She was desperate for the Railgun to calm down and see sense, to explain herself and see the pain she was inflicting on not only her best and closest friends, but herself.
But as another bolt of lightning flickered off of Mikoto, all Kuroko could do was plead and beg and dodge. She dove and rolled towards the end of her bed for cover, and to put her in arms length of the footlocker that held her Judgement gear.
Opening the wooden chest, she reached for-
-her phone, feeling it buzz in her pockets and snapping her back into reality. She was so stunned that her phone survived the attack that she did not notice herself approaching one of the many skyscrapers in the city, flying through the air at a speed far faster than she thought she could reach with her momentum-retaining techniques. She gasped before phasing away from the current dimension, reappearing some distance away from the tall building.
The distance jumped felt different. She swore that she had moved further than her powers could possibly allow her, but her blurry sight meant that she was likely seeing an optical illusion. Remembering the stresses of the night, and the lack of water that she drank that day, the logical part of her mind not drowning in depression put it down to just that. It was just a trick of the distorted light that registered in her brain, bending and contorting through the excess liquid in her auburn eyes.
The continued buzzing and vibrating of her phone caught her off guard again, and she faltered mid-air. It upset her rhythm and dragged her down towards the cold and unforgiving ground below her. Centering herself, swallowing a sorrow-induced hiccup, she teleported-
-a spike, placing it above Mikoto's desk to land with a dense, unmistakable thud. It was a warning, a warning to calm down or to stay away. Both she and Kuroko knew that she could teleport her spike above the Railgun's feet, her shoulders, even her head if need be, but Kuroko could hardly contemplate the latter.
Surely Mikoto would if she continued to fire off dangerous charges of electrical light and heat.
The Railgun did indeed hear the dropping of the spike upon the wooden table, as well as the familiar sound of Kuroko's teleportation. The whoosh and shrill that penetrated her ears was indistinguishable. The elongated sphere of her electrical shield waned, the overcharged energy dissipating and leaving a more clear view of the anger radiating from her. Kuroko breathed heavily, trying to contain her adrenaline and anguish, trying to hold back her sad and frightful tears.
"Would you reallyhurt me?" Mikoto asked, spitefully laughing mid-sentence. Her chestnut eyes blazed with fury and aggrievement, but they could not hide her desperation. Kuroko could see in her Onee-sama's eyes the tell-tale signs of it, and she could see it through her mannerisms too. Kuroko knew that, if Mikoto wanted to, she could zap her into a deep unconsciousness with the right charge and timing. She had a few opportunities to do so, but did not act upon them.
So why had she not done so?
What was she hiding?
Why-
-was Mikoto the one to do all this? To suddenly return to Kuroko's life in such a morbid and disturbing way? As Kuroko flew through the sky, she could not help but think that. She could not help but remember the veiled threats and direct comments on the subject of her girlfriend. It terrified her. It angered her.
It tore her into many fragile little pieces, pieces she had slowly patched up over the years with the help of the one person who took the time to help her mend them.
It made little sense for Mikoto to join the dark side of Academy City, or to at least adopt their methods and techniques, despite all of the past signs that hinted at it. A part of Kuroko damned herself for not hearing out the Railgun tonight, to gain a clue as to what had changed her this much. This was a Mikoto far more lost than that night so long ago.
But how could Kuroko believe her? After everything?
Even as her university and her dorm came into her blurry sight, she could not help but continue to bask in the horror of the situation that had just played out. Her entire body vibrated with more than just sorrow, but the remnants of a persistent electrocution. Her heart beat rapidly and painfully, and it scared her as much as Mikoto's chilling grin.
Thinking back, not only was Kuroko feeling disgusted and afraid at the moment after her escape, but apathetic to Mikoto's request to explain herself; It was not only a matter of believing whatever she said, but actually caring in the first place.
Such was the deterioration of her opinion on her former best friend and crush.
It saddened Kuroko immensely for that to be confirmed to her tonight, and it fuelled the agony that poured from her eyes. She thought a part of her still cared about her, and maybe she did. But after the confrontation, after the attack in which Mikoto jumped her, shocked her with such immense power and-
-choked her with her electrified hands, how could Kuroko see her Onee-sama as anything but a threat to her life?
Kuroko quickly ran through how it had gotten to this point, with Mikoto's hands wrapped around her neck like a vice. More spikes had been thrown and more bolts of electricity had been discharged, and this time they had been hitting their targets. Kuroko's left upper leg and stomach were burned and scorched from two very hot blasts of electrical energy, while a spike nestled itself into Mikoto's right shoulder, along with a few cuts and slashes around her body from close encounters.
It was the lightning strike to Kuroko's belly that led to the current situation. Kuroko, keeling over and gasping for breath at the force of the attack, was left vulnerable to a quickly approaching Mikoto. The Railgun dashed towards her supposed best friend, and slammed her against the closet. The doors were broken through, as was the thin metal railing that hosted the hangers that held their clothes.
It was darker in this cramped space, and the enclosed nature of the closet amplified the sounds of their heavy breathing. Sparks of electricity intermittently flashed, but neither girl's eyes winced at the intruding brightness.
They were far too focused on each other.
Kuroko struggled to free herself from Mikoto's imposing grasp, her well-trained muscles having been numbed by the constant pulsing of electricity. She could hardly breathe or swallow, though the former was the more pressing concern. She began to thrash around and kick her legs with what little strength she could muster, but Mikoto held her firm and tight. Her eyes were wide with terror, but the Railgun's were changing.
The anger and desperation seemed to fade, replaced with something else. Her irises dilated, and her breathing became heavier. Her hands shifted around Kuroko's neck, granting some passage for the air that the teleporter desperately needed to inhale and exhale. Leaning forward, Mikoto's lips parted.
"You like this, don't you?"
Kuroko snapped back to the present as she landed harshly on her feet, instantly falling to her knees with a loud bang on the carpeted floor of her home. How she managed to get home without even thinking about it, with her mind forcefully replaying the images of that night to her, she did not know. She fell roughly onto her side, her head hitting the floor, and she heard the sound of gasping emanating from somewhere in the shared dormitory.
"Kuroko!" Misaka shouted fearfully, her passive abilities sensing the distress that was erupting from her girlfriend. Turning the corner into the hallway she saw the dishevelled and battered state of her lover, and her starry eyes widened in shock and horror.
Misaki took one step towards Kuroko before the teleporter flickered before her eyes, her image distorting like a damaged film tape. It was ever so brief, but it gave a hint at how much Kuroko's power was stressed.
At how much it was changing.
Misaki took another step, slower and more careful. She did not know what to do as Kuroko partially phased in and out of the third dimension. The teleporter seemed to know nothing about it, seemingly only groaning from the wounds and pains of her body and weeping at what had distressed her. It lasted for only a few more moments before it stopped, but it was a scene that Misaki would not soon forget.
Swallowing her own fears, she dashed and fell to her knees to draw Kuroko into her grasp. Misaki felt a wave of static wash over her knees and stomach, tickling at her arms and face, and she began to fear the very worst. Kuroko shook violently in her hold, limply accepting the attempts of comfort from her girlfriend, unable to look up into her golden eyes.
Tenderly, Misaki shifted Kuroko into a different position, one where she could see her and prop her head into a comfortable position. When she turned her around, Misaki could see the glistening shine on her lover's cheeks, as well as how bloodshot her eyes were. Kuroko was completely and utterly vulnerable, and it tore Misaki apart.
"Darling, darling listen?" Misaki spoke desperately and quickly. "What happened, Kuro?" She asked in the same tone, tears building in her starry, exotic eyes. Kuroko's head laid between her chest and shoulder, with a hand supporting her back, leaving Misaki with one free hand to gently wipe and stroke Kuroko's wind-blasted cheeks.
Misaki watched as Kuroko gingerly lifted her arms upwards. She slowly reached for Misaki's free hand, guiding it towards her head. It was a signal to read her mind.
Carefully guiding Kuroko's head to her own, Misaki slowly opened her own mind and powers, allowing her ability to flow through her and then into Kuroko. Gently, she tapped her forehead onto Kuroko's and closed her eyes, peering into the mind of her beaten and battered teleporter. A few moments passed as she tempered her powers, playing a delicate balancing act between the strength and subtlety of her ability.
Like wine poured into a glass goblet, the information that Misaki sought flowed into her mind. She stood in the middle of the scenes that played out, from the morning to the noon to the night; a ghostly spectator. Misaki pushed past those earlier moments of the day, rushing towards the night time in which everything seemed to go wrong for Kuroko.
First a phone call, then cargo containers, followed by a crisp and steaming dead body.
Then Mikoto Misaka, and the distinctive flashes of white and blue, tinged with yellow, buzzing and zapping and shocking.
Then, suddenly, the kiss.
It was one of Misaki's worst fears come true, and another to add to that unfortunate collection tonight.
Then there was regret.
Misaki had tried to keep an eye on the Railgun since her disappearance from public life, using a network of informants to ascertain her whereabouts and activity, but without telling Kuroko. She had kept what little she could find out to herself however, not wishing to trouble Kuroko with the downward spiral that Mikoto had been sinking into for the past few years. With tonight's developments, she knew she had to tell Kuroko about what she had learnt soon, and the starry eyed blonde dreaded that conversation.
During this, she saw something else in the memories. Dancing between the verbal spat and then Mikoto's assault, were the memories of the past. These memories were latching onto the night time calamity, adding a terrible flavour to an already terrible night. Misaki nearly panicked, thinking her powers were causing this.
Then, suddenly, she found herself locked into Kuroko's mind.
That memory, that heartbreaking memory of hers would not let her go.
Misaki seemingly stood in the dormroom of Mikoto and Kuroko, staring into the closet in which the Railgun was strangling the teleporter. Misaki wished that she could intervene and stop Mikoto from squeezing the life out of her girlfriend, but Misaki allowed her logic to control her emotions.
This was just a memory.
And Misaki was just a spectator.
Kuroko could not understand what Mikoto was talking about. 'Enjoying this'? Why would Kuroko enjoy the pain that her Onee-sama was inflicting upon her? In only her most crazed moments did she-
'Oh.'
That single syllable echoed through her mind, and rang in the ears of the ghostly apparition that was Misaki.
Gazing into the strangely dilated eyes of Mikoto, past the beads of sweat on her face, Kuroko saw the morbid fascination that the Railgun had at this moment. Her head tilted to the side, her dangerous eyes looking over the teleport like a scientist studying a dissected frog, and her hands twisted and squeezed at different angles and forces.
But Kuroko felt no pleasure in this, far from it.
She feared this Mikoto, this Mikoto that had been slowly arising through the months, or maybe even years. Kuroko feared she may have contributed to it, her immaturity have slowly overwhelmed the Railgun.
But to this extent? It did not make sense.
Kuroko's vision began to dim and grow foggy. It was all becoming so much, and not even her pain resistance could absorb the effects of oxygen deprivation. Croaking noises escaped her throat in tiny little puffs, almost silent, but clearly audible in the two girls' heightened sense of awareness. Desperately, Kuroko lifted her strongest arm. It was agonising and slow.
When the hand landed on Mikoto's arm, and a final plea uttered from Kuroko's lips, Mikoto suddenly stopped.
The Railgun loosened her hold and ceased her ability. Her eyes returned from their crazed state, putting on a display of shock. Perhaps Mikoto felt some horror within herself, but Kuroko and Misaki could only speculate. A coarse gasp left Mikoto's throat as she realised what she had just done; the violence of it, the implication that she fed into it.
Mikoto's hand left Kuroko's neck, slowly gliding down to her shoulders. Kuroko coughed and sputtered as she desperately inhaled as much air into her body as possible, her throat throbbing and bruised and her body buzzing with the remnants of Mikoto's brutal power. Her body was caked in sweat from the exertion of the fight and the torture that had just taken place. Kuroko's persistent coughing forced her to keel over, and her forehead landed near Mikoto's chest and shoulder.
She braced herself for a shove that never came.
Mikoto stood there, as still as a tree on a windless day, her hands still on Kuroko's shoulders as the girl regained her breath. Kuroko thanked whatever was up there that Mikoto had ceased her violence, and she could not help but relax around her Onee-sama. She knew it was foolish and stupid, but she could not help it. She still trusted Mikoto.
She still loved her .
A few more minutes passed before Mikoto gently pressed her hands forward, gently guiding Kuroko to the wooden frame of the cupboard. Looking up, Kuroko struggled to see the eyes of the Railgun behind her chestnut hair and the dimness of the enclosure.
But Kuroko could still see the smile on her lips.
It was small but welcoming, comforting. Maybe Mikoto was about to apologise, even with a spike still sticking out from the top of her shoulder with a patch of blood painted on her clothing. They had gotten into fights before after all… though not on this scale and not so violent.
But they were best friends. They still understood each other, even if one of them continued to hide parts of themselves while the other would obscure nothing. The atmosphere was still tense, but Kuroko felt her own tension dissipate. While her muscles involuntarily tingled she had no desire to straighten her stance. Kuroko was doing her utmost to diffuse the situation by not doing so, and sending her own message that she did not wish to fight Mikoto, not even for another second.
"Kuroko…" Mikoto said quietly, her voice lacking any kind of discernible tone. Kuroko wearily returned her gaze to where Mikoto's eyes would have been had it not been for her frazzled and slightly damp hair obscuring it.
"Onee…" Kuroko was still struggling to breathe, and her sore throat scolded her for trying to talk. She swallowed and cleared her throat. She tried to communicate again, but Mikoto was already opening her mouth.
"You need to… leave me be." The Railgun said, her voice still monotone. Kuroko could sense more. The pause hinted at something, possibly hesitation. It was something to cling onto, to climb into.
"I can't…" Kuroko started, her voice rough and weak. "...can't let you, be alone." She spoke honestly and desperately, almost begging. Kuroko feared the path that Mikoto continued to walk on, and the possibility of her now running down it distressed her to no end.
"Please… for me?"
An echo of the present rang within the scene of the past.
Kuroko shook her head.
"No!" Her voice raised, a shout relative to the whispered voices in the closet. She lowered her volume. "I know you've kept things from me, and I can understand…" The desperation inside her pushed through the stinging in her throat and the lack of air in her lungs. "...but I can't let you drift to the dark side of this city!" Kuroko raised her voice again, breathing hard and ragged.
The smile on Mikoto's face morphed into a thin straight line.
Kuroko could not let Mikoto go down this path. She had feared it for months now, and every fight reinforced it. Tonight was the final escalation, Kuroko knew that, and it was her last chance.
It was her last chance to avoid that inevitable confrontation in the future… should Mikoto enter that gloomy and nasty world.
It was silent for around a minute. Kuroko continued to breathe heavily, her heart pounding and her stomach feeling sickly. She could no longer look at Mikoto, her eyes full of salty sadness that threatened to escape. She was even beginning to hiccup, a fact that she disdained. She wanted to be strong and commanding, but instead she felt as if she was simpering and pleading.
Kuroko then felt Mikoto's right hand drift from her shoulder.
It was slow and soft, and Kuroko looked up to see that the smile had returned to Mikoto's lips. Kuroko allowed some hope to return to her, thinking that maybe - just maybe - the Railgun had been convinced. Perhaps Mikoto had changed her mind, a change of heart that happened many times before.
"Kuroko?" Mikoto asked, her hand drifting down until it reached Kuroko's chest, resting atop her hard beating heart. It was almost romantic to Kuroko, though perhaps it would just be a friendly 'I'm always in your heart' line akin to the childhood movies that Kuroko remembered watching.
Still, a smile appeared on her own lips.
It was a good sign.
"Yes, Onee-sama?" She asked hopefully, trying to look past the chestnut hair that hid Mikoto's wonderful eyes.
"I'm sorry."
A bright flash.
A droning buzz.
A terrible pain.
Kuroko's heart would never beat normally again.