Quick thing: thanks, Rakster for favoriting! Welcome aboard! Thanks, alex1839 for following and favoriting! It's great to have you on board. Thanks, NinjaNinja X for favoriting! It's great to have your support. Thanks, MythAnime for favoriting! I'm glad to have your support. Thanks, timemaste for favoriting! It's great to have you aboard.
As we always do around this time, let's jump right into the reviews! I always love hearing what you lovely folks have to say.
Guest III: I'm not sure which Guest you are, or if I've already labelled you. For now, you will be christened as "Guest III". Feel free to correct me if you think or know that there's a case of mistaken identity. Anyways! I'm glad to know that you're enjoying a Certain Broken Testament; I'm certainly enjoying writing it! I hope to have your continued input, friend.
whwsms: let the going over begin! I, for one am ready as ever.
I'd agree that the term fits well enough, given Viktor and Ellie's situation. Hopefully they don't end up doing anything crazy, if you catch my drift.
Certainly! If his outward appearance wasn't unsettling enough, the ability to breathe fire would likely just add fuel to the – excuse the pun – fire. At least he seems to be a friendly and jovial, if crude soul.
I'm glad to know that this scene has gained your approval, in part, friend! More than likely, the disease has already taken hold, and is rooting itself deep within a certain Move Point's mind. She might not even be aware of the fact that she's infected with a semi-legitimate disease. That little detail, regarding Kamijou Touma's "activities" was supposed to come as a shocker. I'm glad to see that detail is having its intended effect!
It's great to hear that you're looking forward to reading about it; I'm certainly looking forward to writing about it!
It's okay, we both have dirty minds it seems; such is hardly a rarity in this species of ours, even amongst those who deny it left and right. As always, I'm glad to know that I'm able to continually gain your approval, especially in regards to Seria's introduction. I imagine that all of a Certain Middle-High School's male students collectively shot glares at Kamijou Touma, regardless of where they were – perhaps, as you've said, they could simply sense a 'disturbance in the Force'? Especially regarding his dosage of marshmallow 'Hell'.
Seria wouldn't be out of bounds if she chose to do so; most, if not the entirety of the Kihara family has had it coming for a long time. As you suggested, there's a chance that Seria won't take her kohai's advice, and begin making strategic moves against those that caused him suffering. Kumokawa Seria is certainly ruthless enough to pursue what leads she's been given.
You bring up an interesting point; should this blossoming romance between "Kamijou Touma" and Kumokawa Seria bloom fully, just what would Tokiwadai's "Queen" make of it, and just how would she react?
As always, it's great to know that I'm able to consistently gain your approval! I hope to be able to continue to do so.
321jaz: joke involving a certain Caucasian rapper who's partially famous for lyrics involving the phrase "guess who's back" goes here. On a more serious note, it seems that it's chappy time again!
That it just might be, friend… nah, I won't be all mysterious about it. Introducing Spring-heeled Jack was just me plotting and planting, we'll definitely be seeing a story arc in which London, England is the primary setting. When it arrives, I hope you enjoy reading through it as much as I'm sure I'm going to enjoy writing it.
Awaki's going to have to re-think her life choices. As you said, if she'd simply knocked like any other person, Awaki wouldn't have found herself in that predicament.
Trust your gut instinct; it's more than likely correct, regarding Musujime Awaki coming down with a bad case of the "Kami Disease".
As Tsuchimikado Motoharu told Awaki, this "new" Kamijou Touma is a maverick. There's no saying just how far he and Seria will take this unexpected liaison; after all, he no longer seems to be holding himself back. An interesting situation indeed, if I do say so myself.
As whwsms put it, perhaps all of the young women vying for Kamijou Touma's affection collectively felt a "disturbance in the force", maybe a certain honey-scented "Queen" and a certain electromaster felt it more than others.
I can hear the angered cries of the Delta Force's other members from here… more than likely, their collective rage won't be a pretty thing to behold. Even if Aogami Pierce and Tsuchimikado Motoharu are only two high school-aged boys, hormones alone could turn the two into raging hulks. Then again, we know that the Backstabbing Blade seems to be keeping his hormones "in check", so to speak…
As always, it's great to know that I'm able to consistently gain your approval! I hope to be able to continually do so through subsequent chapters.
DarkBetrayer: for what it's worth, I feel that having a drastically changed Kamijou Touma is a good means for the character to explore the concept of a Touma x harem pairing without the usual nonsense that comes with Touma being overly complacent when it comes to the women in his life. I also fully admit that I have a strange robot fixation, so, I'm self-aware at least!
You caught me, DB-sensei. You've exposed my evil ways; in fact, I was just about to sacrifice my firstborn child to our alien overlords. Drat, foiled again!
#canadalies, sensei. #canadalies.
Anon Guest: I know now my destiny; and with all due respect to Destati-sensei, the narrative will call for Kamijou Touma to go "all the way" on more than one occasion. The upgrade to TouMAN will occur, rest assured; but, as with many things, the proper buildup needs to be there.
Anon: Shokuhou Misaki might not find herself waiting all that long for the chance to join in to be offered up. Or, something completely unexpected could very well occur; the currents of time are many, as we know. As always, friend, you'll just have to read on!
Guest00: absolutely correct; reading on will be necessary to learn the truth behind the matter. Shokuhou Misaki could just end up getting herself "deeply involved", so to speak.
The winds whipped strong in Glastonbury, England; stronger than they had in some time. Shingles were torn from rooftops, and lines of laundry had rows of clothing torn away, carried off like a stereotypically helpless damsel in distress, clutched in the arms of a monster.
Though illuminated by the great, pale chunk of rock that orbited the planet, Glastonbury's town center was still darkened by the night's embrace. Streetlamps offered the best assistance they could, and it was much appreciated by those few that happened to be walking the streets.
On wings of inky darkness, illumination seen only on the brightest of summer days came, as if the sun had come crashing down onto the planet. Sudden, and bright, Glastonbury's town center was alight in crimson fire. Asphalt was destroyed, chunks sent fluttering into the air, walkways were torn apart, revealing the uncharacteristically intricate and vaguely futuristic metallic systems beneath them. The town center's medieval architecture was lost, as the outer shells of homes and of workplaces were burned away, peeling and crinkling before their inner structures collapsed, taking so many families with them.
Hair was instantaneously singed, flesh was charred from bone, and bone was melted, as civilians caught in the blaze weren't even given a chance to shriek in pain, or spread their lips in surprise, or terror.
Passing over the burning town's center, the beast on wings of darkness beat them against the air, rising. It performed a sudden nosedive, and the beast's lashing tail crashed against a great cathedral just beyond the Glastonbury Town's center. Mere milliseconds following the impact, stone crumbled, and stained glass shattered, as the beast rose once again, beating its great wings. The cathedral had been wrecked beyond repair, as its towers and transept spire came crashing down upon its once-gorgeous interior.
The Field of Avalon was the beast's target. Moving at hundreds of miles an hour, the beast closed the distance between itself and sole structure in the field quickly. The open grasslands shuddered, and the insects within fled at the sight of its shadowed form.
Though the beast couldn't have known it, beneath the Tor, tiny, flesh-covered things scurried through dank, thin passageways, in which they had to bend forward to safely manoeuver through. Clad in thick, plated body armor, they rushed from their posts, and grabbed for their swords and for their shields. An official splinter faction of the Knights of England made their move.
Among the cobbled flooring of the Glastonbury Tor, one particular section of the flooring proved itself to be different from the rest, as latches were flicked beneath it, chants of spell-breaking were muttered, and a lid was lifted upwards, then tossed away. Up a stone staircase, feet clad in plated boots shuffled.
"What was…?"
"DRAGON?!"
"DRAGON!"
"DON'T ACT SO BLEEDIN' SURPRISED, YE DUMMIES! MOVE YER ARSES, DRAGONGUARD! ALERT TH' QUEEN! PUT BUCKIN'AM ON HIGH ALERT!"
A group of ten had emerged from beneath the Tor; they huddled against the stone walls of the Tor, as a sea of flame consumed it. The Tor held fast, resisting the torrent of what smelled and had looked like hellfire. This beast truly was foolish for choosing to assault the tomb of the man who'd fought its kin by the thousands, like so many simple challenges.
"Iyul tak wgvuld, rwel nak, Pendragon…"
One knight looked to another, as another fifteen of their fellows piled out from within the belly of the Tor.
"What foul tongue does it speak in?" One inquired, as he peaked his head around the corner. Beneath the Tor's northern archway, all he could see was the beast's glowing, honey-colored eyes. Like two orbs illuminating the darkest depths of the sea's abyssal zone, their eyelids closed, and the beast blinked, once, and then a second time. "I 'eard 'Pendragon'. It knows, 'hen? Wish we 'ould git a looksie at the bloody bastard."
"I'd be takin' this a bit more seriously, if I was you, lad! The bloomin' town's burnin'!"
Indeed; a second peak the first speaking knight took, and he saw Glastonbury burning, the flames climbing towards the sky, as if they were reaching up towards Heaven itself. The great, old cathedral could be seen perpetually collapsing, like a rotten fruit whose innards had finally become little more than mounds of amorphous goop.
"Call it in, lads! Quick soilin' yer knickers! 'all bloody Buckin'am!"
"Iyul tak wgvuld, rwel nak, Pendragon," the beast repeated. Its voice boomed and echoed repeatedly, shaking the very foundations of Glastonbury's Tor.
When no answer came, the beast neared, shaking the earth as it approached. As it closed in on the Tor, the Knights of England within could make out only the simplest of features; a long snout, great, sharpened fangs, and gnarled scales, black as the darkness of the night itself.
"Must I address you in this… disgusting tongue? My Iyul, my father requests the wgvuld – remains – of Deadking Pendragon. Bring them to me, and you will nak… live. My father knows they are here, and I, Crotas, my father's greatest and firstborn have been tasked with collecting them. I will not repeat myself."
A knight within, a tall and brave man stepped forward, holding the tip of his blade outwards. Beneath the shuttered visor of his full-faced helmet, he stared the winged lizard down.
"Come 'n git 'em yerself, ye ugly sunnavabitch. Ol' Arthur used ta beat yer lads up on the daily, 'n now yer 'ere, tryin' ta nick his ol' bones? He ought ta crawl up himself, and stick one of 'em up yer BIG, STUPID lizard arse!"
The other knights fell back against the Tor's inner walls, as the beast took a great, deep breath; the beast's verbal attacker stumbled backwards, and fell.
He'd assumed his life to be over; his brothers could little to save him. At least he'd given the beastie what-for before the end.
But they didn't have to; Glastonbury's Tor did. The dragonfire emerging from the beast's maw licked at the Tor, but was unable to even penetrate its open northern archway. As if an invisible barrier was in place, the flames were forced away, like a mighty fan's generated breeze was pushing against them.
Howling aloud in frustration, the dragon's cry sounded like the screams of one billion dying virgin girls. Its tail slammed into the Tor, but did the structure no harm.
"NAVAAK! NAVAAK! Wretched human filth! Rfunur! No good! I spit in the mouth and eyes of your flag and country! Althuriun take you! My father shall tan your stinking hides!"
As it ranted, the winged reptilian leapt into the air, beating its wings against the air in order to rise. Its long, thick legs dangled, and its paws' sharpened talons were suddenly defined beneath the moonlight; easily two hundred meters in length, the beast's wingspan was that and some. Its wings, enormous and bat-like, were a terrible sight for even the Knights of England to behold on their own. Just how such a creature could even exist without collapsing in on itself, the Knights of England that had remained above ground could only wonder. Breathing one last plume of fire down upon Glastonbury Town, the beast shrieked aloud, as it flew off into the night, leaving only tragedy and decimation in its wake. Trails of smoke, the screams of widows and widowers and the shrieks of children rose high into the air, like a symphony of death.
Most knights had returned into the suffocating depths of the Tor that'd protected their very lives, two-way communication runes gathered.
A total of four knights remained above ground. Each was as stunned as the other; apparently, these four shared a mutual desire to simply stand there, and attempt to keep their minds from unravelling.
"A-Althuriun? Did ye hear that beastie say the same thing as I did, lads?"
"Yessir… them Old Verses, huh? What's the Queen going to bloody well make of this? This mean it's… the End Time? Ye think them old things tell the truth?"
"Don't be shtupid, lad. Dragons sure as Heaven ain't legends, but that Althuriun sure 'as bloody 'ell is. Quit shakin' lad. Are you a lad, or a lass? Buckle up, and proper get ready! This might not be the last bloomin' ugly lizard we see t'night."
"What the fuck is even happening? I think I fell asleep. Frenda, how much longer does this… thing, run for?"
Though the film presented upon the great screen before she and her "coworkers" continued, Mugino Shizuri had just about her fill of the high fantasy nonsense. Rising from her seat, Academy City's number four level five tore her extra large-sized drink from her seat's cup holder, and made her way out of the isle, leaving her coworkers behind. The heels of her stilettos clacked, as she passed other irate moviegoers by.
"Mugino? Basically, where are you going off to? The movie's just barely started!"
"Yeah, Mugino. You're super going to walk out on me again?"
"This is fucking retarded. Don't be late, no pit stops."
In unison, both of Shizuri's coworkers remarked, "yes Mugino."
"One of these days, you need to come and see me, my sweet little kohai. I live on my own; we can… reconnect, there, away from the prying eyes of this school's student body looking us up and down. I'm not necessarily propositioning you for sex, but… if I'm speaking honestly, the option is more than there. It's hardly like the two of us are strangers, hm? We simply managed to "grow apart".
Touma allowed either of his arms to fall limply to his sides; as a result, Seria looked to him, disappointedly. She'd obviously been thoroughly enjoying herself. Still, Seria wasn't going to pressure her little kohai. No mature, older girl would do something so immature and selfish.
"Reconnect… yeah. That whole thing's honestly a long story. It's nice to be able to reconnect with you, senpai, but it still feels like I'm in some daze, sometimes. Kind of hard to explain in short," Touma remarked. "Senpai…?"
"Call me Seria, Touma, please. There's no need to be so formal."
"Alright… Seria, heh. Have you had that feeling where you wanted to do something, but then you forgot it? Then, a few minutes later, after some pacing it comes flooding back, and you exclaim, "oh"?
"Every person does, Touma," Seria replied, softly. She tried to keep her features from folding into a cringe. A certain Mental Out user's sly, winking face appeared in her mind's eye, and Seria subsequently attempted to banish it.
"Shokuhou."
She picked herself up, panting slightly, as she attempted to keep her legs from rubbing together. Kumokawa Seria had become almost completely unhinged; she was dripping wet. Her womanhood was obviously lubricating itself for a reason, which both parties were aware of. "I have, the people you walk by on the street have, everyone does."
Following in his senpai's proverbial footsteps, Touma rose as well. If he'd been wearing actual clothing, they would likely be covered in grass stains; his form left an indent in the grass, suggesting that Kumokawa Seria had been pressing down upon him much harder than he'd thought. He certainly hadn't felt any pressure.
"It was like that, when I was turned into what I am now, whatever this is. Once the pain subsided, anyways. Then, it was like I suddenly remembered… or realized I knew about thousands of things at once, and it was the strangest sensation; I was grateful for it, because it let me know I could still feel, which is nice."
Seria forcibly held back a grimace; the idea of the boy standing before her being in any sort of pain infuriated her, and made her want to strangle the heartless wretch who'd harm someone like him. Maybe Seria would, despite Touma's protests.
Pushing such violent thoughts to the back of her mind, Kumokawa Seria moved close to her kohai, and walked at his side, the image of elegance and maturity. For the moment, she was happier than she'd been in a long time; the face of a certain Tokiwadai Middle School student flashed through her mind's eye once again, but this time Seria grinned; she'd win, in the end. She was already so much closer to him than Mrs. Tits had ever been. Not moments ago, she'd kissed his lips, and he'd grasped her buttocks, and he'd liked it. She'd seen it on his face, he'd loved it. Oh, there was so much more for him; all Kumokawa Seria's little kohai had to do was reach out and grab it.
She held her head high, and, with not even a hint of a blush on her face, Seria informed Touma of her predicament. "I'll… I need to pay the restroom a visit, my little kohai. You've driven me just a little bit too wild, not that I mind. You're welcome to get me wet whenever you'd like.
"My offer is still on the figurative table, should you want to take me up on it. Does someone… of your newfound, hm, distinction even require schooling? Regardless, this might sound selfish, but, I'd prefer it if you continued to attend, simply so that we could see one another more regularly. Besides… your friends have missed you, too. They've been worried. Most of them."
Touma had an idea as to who his senpai was referring to; Touma knew exactly who the exception was, and he had his reasons for feeling like he knew. The blonde-haired, sunglasses-wearing spy always did have ulterior motives, many of them. That was okay, that was fine. If he became a problem, he could be dealt with.
Touma shrugged nonchalantly, as both he and Seria approached the entranceway doors of the middle-high school. Effortlessly, Touma flung the leftmost door open, and held it for the older, mature woman he so greatly admired, before he stepped into the facility's halls himself; Touma didn't even try to stop his eyes from following the swaying motion of Kumokawa Seria's hips, nor did he try to stop himself from ogling her posterior.
He had no reason to; it was obvious that this woman wanted him, and he knew that he wanted her, too. He could protect her, he could protect everyone, better than ever before. He could allow this to happen.
Kamijou Touma almost found himself thanking the man responsible for this transformation. Almost.
If doing so would've actually accomplished anything, Touma could've licked his lips, as he beheld the sight before him; what, exactly had he been hiding himself from for all these years? Of course, there were certain females who couldn't be freely ogled, but, Kumokawa Seria wasn't among them.
"I don't have to," Touma eventually answered, following a period of silence. "I know everything this place could teach me; that goes for any school here, really. I was never taught, but I just… "know" how the Personal Reality functions, from what part of the brain its "signal" is broadcasted, everything.
"I mean, there are some things I couldn't tell you; I couldn't tell you what the height of Mount Everest was in the year 1975, but, I know a lot now, senpai— I mean, Seria. I can tell just by looking, by touching, you know? For example, I know there are no cancerous cells in your body that could currently pose a danger to you, and I know that your blood sugar levels are normal, for someone of your age, weight and height. Like you said, the only reason I'm even here is because my, uh, relative, Olivia-chan thought that it'd be good for me to come see some people. Bumping into you was a pleasant surprise."
Seria produced a soft, curious-sounding "hm". She didn't quite know what to make of the information her kohai was sharing with her. He seemed paranoid; he'd look over his shoulder as he spoke, and would look from side to side, as if he was searching for individuals who could potentially overhear him.
With a nod, Seria had already decided what her next actions would be. Seria turned to look at Kamijou Touma, and awkwardly shoved him into a locker, taking full control. She pressed her lips against his own, and repeatedly kissed him. Seria's tongue found itself slipping into Touma's mouth, and, like two warring serpents, they clashed, as a coppery taste filled Seria's mouth.
"Touma. Did you like that? I liked that. Go say "hello" to your friends. Like I said, my offer will always be on the figurative table. I don't expect an immediate answer. If and when you're feeling up to it, my apartment's door is always open to you, as are… other things. I've always wanted to whisper sweet nothings like this into your ears, my little kohai. I could just eat you up. I could just drop to my knees… and grab onto that cock of yours, and…"
Just as a group of stragglers entered the halls of the middle-high school, Kumokawa Seria thrust herself against Kamijou Touma, rubbing her bosom against his upper torso as she smacked her lips against his own. The stragglers, all male students, collectively ground to a halt, wearing horrified and sorrowful facial expressions. The perfect, mature and intelligent Beauty-Senpai was grabbing at that bastard's crotch with her hands.
"W-who is that?! K-Kamijou and… wow, she's b-beautiful."
"STOP SHOWING OFF YOUR HAREM!"
"KAMIJOU, YOU ASSHOLE! You've corrupted Beauty-Senpai!"
"FUCK YOU, KAMIJOU! LEAVE SOME GIRLS FOR US!"
If the "old" Kamijou Touma had been caught in a predicament such as the he'd found himself in, he likely would've tried to squirm away, violently bleed from his nostrils, then faint, in that order. The "new" Kamijou Touma, however, wasn't going to let such cowardly nonsense play out; he wasn't going to act complacently, either. That was just as, if not even more pathetic.
Touma threw his arms around Kumokawa Seria's waist, and stared at the stragglers, as he craned his neck in their direction. Seria, obviously on board with Touma's "methods" began to kiss his neck, struggling to hold back giggles as she did so. She wanted word to fly that the boy belonged to her. The gap between her legs might as well have been Niagara Falls.
Two floors above the middle-high school's ground floor, in which the scene was unfolding, a young-seeming woman named Tsukuyomi Komoe felt a particularly painful pang in the right side of her chest; so painful was it that she clutched her swiftly-beating heart, much to the concern of her class. Then, from the chair she stood upon, she fell face-first onto her desk.
"Nice to see you too. You, blue-hair. You're a middle schooler, right? I think I remember you being paired up with the Jumpy Bunny. How's that going for you? She a good tutor?"
Kamijou Touma had successfully diverted the stragglers' attention away from himself, and from Kumokawa Seria, who was too busy helping herself to her kohai's body, and getting off on the attention the scene was receiving to even pay much mind to the boys who'd entered; they all looked like undesirables, anyways.
"Just stick a love letter in the Jumpy Bunny's locker and be done with it."
"That would make her cry, dipshit! Kamijou already did that! Do you want to be like him?!"
"YES! YES I DO!"
Infighting broke out amongst the boys as they walked on, leaving Kamijou Touma and Kumokawa Seria to their own business.
Kumokawa Seria forcibly pulled herself away, and tossed her head back, which caused locks of her dark hair to flutter about. She tugged at the bottom of her uniform's top, and adjusted the band that held her hair's fringe in place. "Now, truthfully, I need to take my leave, my little kohai. I'll be looking forward to our get-together. Please don't stand me up. Oh… and, you've popped a boner. Might want to tuck that in."
With a wink, Seria turned her back to Kamijou Touma, and swayed her hips from side to side as she walked; Seria could almost feel her kohai's lustful gaze, and she adored every second of it, soaking it up like rays of sunshine.
"No way, wouldn't do that. I'm lookin' forward to it too, senp— Seria. Catch you then, I guess. It was good seeing you… actually, good might be an understatement."
"It was good to see you too, my little kohai. Take care of yourself; there's far more where that came from. All you have to do is ask your senpai for it, and she'll provide."
With that, Kumokawa Seria rounded a corner, and, after offering Kamijou Touma a short, but oddly seductive wave, she disappeared.
Kamijou Touma clicked his tongue, his lips curling into a satisfied grin as he made his way towards the nearby staircase, which was located behind two great, metallic doors, with the intend to make his way towards that oddly familiar room, where Komoe-sensei would stand up on her chair and make all sorts of silly facial expressions as she passionately delivered her lectures. Hopefully, his erection – apparently, he was capable of getting one – would dissipate by that point.
"OLIVIA-CHAN! PLEASE MARRY ME! I LOVE YOU!"
"Stop."
"I HAVE A RING AND EVERYTHING! I'LL GET DOWN ON ONE KNEE! YOU'RE SOOOO BEAUTIFUL! LET ME SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOOOUUUU!"
"Please. Stop. Now."
"Olivia, Kamijou Touma's distant cousin hailing from Denmark" found herself in a bind. Somehow, that serpent, the one known as Aogami Pierce had managed to slither his way into the seat next to her, in the second row of desks closest to the pink one's greater-sized desk. If only the pink one was actually conscious, she could've done something about the uncomfortable predicament "Olivia" found herself in. The very skin stretched over her skeletal structure crawled at the sight of him.
Normally, Fukiyose Seiri, the one who kept these cretins in line would've knocked Aogami Pierce out, or at least would've beat some sense into him. With both Fukiyose Seiri and the quiet one, Himegami Aisa tending to their perpetually-gasping teacher, however, "Olivia" was fighting a losing battle on her own, apparently without any backup.
Aogami Pierce leaned in just a bit closer, and "Olivia" reeled even further away; just the scent of him was putrid. The boy reeked of stale baked goods, something that vaguely smelled like rotten fish, and an overabundance of cologne.
"Aogami, knock it off. You're making Oli-chan uncomfortable. She told you to stop, so it's time to stop. Would you like if it the shoe was on the other foot? I don't think so. You give guys a bad name."
"Olivia" turned her head around, closing her eyes as her vision passed the leering, grinning Aogami Pierce by. Some three rows of desks behind "Olivia's", an auburn-haired girl spoke. Her hair was tied into a knot, and white glasses with large, square-shaped frames adorned her face.
Aogami Pierce, ever the charmer, turned to face the auburn-haired girl as well, wearing a disapproving facial expression. "You must be straight; you obviously don't know how the mind of a woman works, Kobayashi-chan. You see, when a woman says "no", what she really means is… "yes". Watch and learn about the intricate maze that is a woman's mind. Take notes, now, you could need this someday."
The blue-haired boy reached forward, and "Olivia" sprung up, both of her eyes, glass and organic stared deeply into Aogami Pierce's own. The corner of her lip twitched, as she inhaled deeply. "Olivia" clenched her fists as she attempted to calm herself down; she could see that ugly, smug grin on his face, and it made her want to punch it off.
"Touch me, and you die; this is your final warning. I won't tolerate this, not from you, not from anyone else."
Though the boy with the blue hair reeled, it was only partially due to "Olivia's" threat; instead, a great, dark shadow loomed over him. Aogami Pierce shrunk, and sank into his seat, as the shadow placed its clenched fists on its hips. Like a child fearing the wrathful reprisal of a parent after they'd misbehaved, Aogami Pierce awkwardly shuddered.
Before Aogami Pierce, Fukiyose Seiri stood, with murder in her eyes. Her right eyebrow was raised, suspiciously.
Long, dark-colored hair fell to her back, matching the color of her eyes' irises. Her body type was athletic; though she wasn't a particularly muscular girl, many knew she needed no muscles to deliver a truly vicious blow to her enemies, or to the members of the infamous "Delta Force". Clad in the middle-high school's uniform, consisting of a grey-colored sweater-vest, a greyish-blue skirt, and a pair of dark-colored loafers, the young woman's exceedingly ample bosom was highlighted even in the uniform's baggy top. Evidently, despite transferring from the old, ruined high school, she'd chosen to wear the middle-high school's uniform.
With a tone of voice filled with barely-suppressed disgust, Seiri spoke. "Is there a problem here? Until sensei returns to proper health, I'll be dealing with any issues that appear in this classroom… personally."
"Olivia" snorted, and wriggled uncomfortably in her seat; even if that creature, Aogami Pierce been four or five feet away from her, "Olivia" still felt like she'd been violated, as if some invisible, wretched aura had latched onto her and infected her. "This wretched womanizer has pushed me to my limit. I dare not strike him unless I absolutely must, for I won't stop striking if I do."
Fukiyose Seiri had heard enough; past 'infringements' already proved Aogami Pierce guilty as charged.
Grabbing either side of the blue-haired boy's head, she swiftly cracked his neck, knocking him unconscious almost instantaneously. Like a puppet who had a puppeteer's arm pulled out from within it, Aogami Pierce slumped over, his face striking the surface of his desk.
"Sorry, Olivia-chan," Seiri remarked, softly. She knelt beside the desk of the golden-haired beauty, and folded her arms over its cool, wooden surface. Tilting her head to one side, Seiri offered "Olivia" an awkward, crooked smile.
"He does this to all the girls, it's awful. I mean it, Olivia-chan, don't be afraid to defend yourself. Your body is your body, and nobody has the right to touch it without your explicit permission. No type of sexual harassment is "lesser" than any other type. You can always come to us; we've… figured out ways to handle him as a pack. Something should really be done about it, but, until then, we have to stick together and protect one another."
With Aogami Pierce temporarily rendered a non-issue, the classroom's students returned to business as usual. While they waited for their teacher to be roused from her apparently comatose state, small groups were formed, in which quiet discussions were had. The auburn-haired girl with the white glasses opened a small book on her desk, and began to quietly read, to pass the time. Leaning back in her seat, "Olivia" crossed one leg over the other.
"He disgusts me," she snapped. "I can't lay a hand on him unless doing so becomes absolutely necessary; If I was to do so, I would beat him dead. You obviously have more restraint than I. Something should, indeed be done, very much so."
As silence descended over the girls, a familiar face stepped into the classroom, and closed the room's heavy, metallic door behind him. Upon turning to look, Fukiyose Seiri produced a soft, sudden gasp, and quickly rose to her feet.
"One moment, Olivia-chan. There're some things your relative and I have to discuss. If he wakes up and starts bothering you again, feel free to call for me, okay?"
Fukiyose Seiri began her death march towards him, and Himegami Aisa's lips curled into a thin smile, just as she'd managed to successfully rouse their dazed teacher; the Deep Blood user had seen him in the corner of her eye.
"You," Seiri spoke, harshly, as she closed the distance between herself and Kamijou Touma. The various conversations taking place within the classroom's walls dropped in volume, becoming a series of hushed whispers.
Touma raised a hand, and half-heartedly waved at Seiri, and then at Himegami Aisa, before he allowed his right hand to limply fall back at his side. "Oi. Nice to see you, Fukiyose, Himegami."
With plenty of warning, at least internally, Seiri's nose was only a few mere inches away from his own. Touma had seen her coming, and had easily calculated how long it took her to march towards him; as always, his internal calculations were on point. With her arms folded beneath her bosom, the iron wall girl held her ground, and looked into the boy's eyes, suspiciously.
"Just where have you been, Kamijou? Just about everyone's heard about your little Houdini act. You could've at least texte…"
"Not in the mood, Fukiyose. Relax, would you? You're acting like this is a big deal when it really isn't, just like always. I had some personal business to take care of, I took care of it, and I'm going to have to take care of it again. I don't have to report what I do to anyone. I don't need your permission, or anyone else's. Step back, and learn to give people the space they need."
Kamijou Touma's "distant relative" looked at him with curious eyes, and a crooked, questioning facial expression. "Olivia" raised an eyebrow, as if to ask, "what are you doing?"
Kamijou Touma casually approached, and then tossed himself into his desk's seat, in the fourth row. There was normalcy in this setting, a sense that this setting was one which was absolutely mundane and completely unremarkable, at least in a place like Academy City. It was a welcomed break from the constant barrage of madness that Kamijou Touma was almost becoming used to.
Fukiyose Seiri had left the topic at that. She'd huffed, and returned to her own seat, her fists clenched, as Himegami Aisa left their recovering teacher's side. Something was certainly different about Kamijou Touma. Seiri wasn't certain, however, as to the identity of the creature that'd crawled into his anal tract and died. He was aggressive, almost like he had something to hide. The iron wall girl would need to think on the matter.
Komoe's face was pale, though it appeared that its usual rosy coloration was slowly returning. Clad in her classic "Komoe-sensei attire", her pink hair was messy. Whatever it was that Himegami Aisa had done, it'd worked; Komoe would live another day. Her students didn't know it, but Komoe desperately needed to crack open a few cans of Academy City's cheapest alcohol and toss a few back.
Unsteadily, she rose, standing up on the seat of the chair behind her great wooden desk. Softly clearing her throat, she began to speak. "W-welcome back, K-Kamijou-chan! We've all missed you dearly! T-things just haven't been the same without you. I h-hope everything is well!"
"Thanks, sensei," Touma remarked. "Everything's fine. I had some personal business to take care of."
With that, Komoe continue to deliver her lecture. Always passionate, the young-seeming teacher quickly perked up, and, in mere minutes was deeply lost within the words of the subject matter of which she was discussing.
Her words were oddly hypnotic to Touma, who found himself becoming lost in them. As the young-seeming woman's lips moved, Kamijou Touma's vision followed them, carefully examining every inch they moved, every crease in his teacher's skin that became visible as she spoke. She was a good distraction from all the nonsense he'd found himself putting up with.
For a while, Kamijou Touma allowed himself to become lost in his teacher's passionate lecture, until his concentration was interrupted by a soft, timid-sounding voice.
"… hi, Touma. We've missed you. I hope you've been alright."
Somehow, Himegami Aisa had managed to squeeze herself into the seat of the desk directly next to Touma's own; he was hardly surprised, and he wasn't about to question it.
"Oi, Himegami. It's nice to see you again. You look good, as usual. I like the way you styled your hair, the way you curled the tips is really nice. The curls suit you."
Himegami Aisa awkwardly fiddled with her fingers, as she kept her eyes locked on the young-seeming teacher before her. Kamijou Touma was addressing her directly, actually paying attention to her. It felt absolutely wonderful, even if he'd only spoken a few words to her. He truly was a dear friend to her. Aisa couldn't have known it, but blood was rushing to her face.
"… t-thank you, Touma."
"No worries. You do you, Himegami. Long as you do that, you'll be gorgeous. You shouldn't try and be anyone else. You know you best, right?"
No more words were exchanged between the two; both Touma and Aisa knew exactly what would happen if their teacher learned that her lesson wasn't the only subjecting being paid attention to in the classroom. The poor, overly-emotional little creature's heart would break.
The topic of personal realities was covered, for the umpteenth time. Apparently, having the same information, with small blocks of new information added on each lesson was the way "lower" schools like these saw fit to teach its student body. Komoe found herself unable to resist her urges, and she'd ended up speaking at length about the intricacies of pyrokinesis, her speciality. Touma found the change to be refreshing, and welcomed something different from the norm. Regardless, he knew how it all worked. Though he'd never been taught, he simply 'knew'. Influxes of data were quick to assure him of that much.
Eventually, Aogami Pierce had come to, but even he had the smarts to know better than to interrupt Komoe-sensei's lesson. Evidently, she hadn't even noticed that he'd been out like an unpowered lightbulb.
Once her lecture had come to its close, pens and pencils were set down, various means of adapting information from verbal form to a recorded medium were closed, or locked, or stuffed away in a pocket, Komoe placed her hands upon her hips, and nodded her head, as if in self-approval.
"You've all done a wonderful job, today! EXCELLENT! Are there any questions before we get down to work? Sensei is always willing to put forth the extra effort." Softly, and entirely to herself, the tiny, child-like, mostly pink teacher giggled.
Aogami Pierce, much to the shared annoyance of both "Olivia" and Fukiyose Seiri, was the first to speak. "Sensei! Where's Kami-yan?! I have to talk to him about something important!"
Komoe raised an eyebrow, and blinked. Her facial expression twisted into one of curiousness. "Silly! Kamijou-chan is behind you. Just look! Didn't you notice him come in before the lesson?"
The boy with the blue hair practically spun in his seat. Spotting Kamijou Touma out, Aogami Pierce's perpetually closed eyelids nearly split open with shock. Something was very, very different. That normally goofy, pointy hair of his wasn't pointy at all; it was combed downwards, for starters; more, he held himself with a confidence the blue-haired boy had never before seen. Kamijou Touma's facial expression looked like it could've been shared by a monarch, unimpressed with their court jester's performance. He leaned back in his seat, with his arms folded across his chest, one leg folded across the knee of the other; Aogami Pierce could almost see a pile of cute girls sitting around him.
Aogami Pierce's rage was growing; that bastard Kamijou Touma was self-aware, wasn't he? Finally, like one of those AIs in the post-apocalypse sci-fi films, the bastard had gotten smart, and the world was going to pay for it.
"K-Kami-yan? What's with the getup, huh? Have you finally decided to embrace the fact that you have a harem?! O-oh… shit. Has it gone to your head?! We have to put Kami-yan down! He's going to become God-Emperor of Mankind!"
Touma simply clicked his tongue in response, and stared ahead, barely giving the blue-haired boy the time of day. "Komoe-sensei asked if anyone had a question. Presumably, she was referring to questions about the lesson. Don't be an idiot, as hard as that might be for you, Aogami."
"Stone Cold Kami-yan," Pierce remarked, turning around, and leaning back, casually in his seat. "Stooone cold. I'll catch you later. I actually do have something to talk to you about."
"We'll see about it."
Komoe could practically reach out and touch the one-sided tension in the room. She awkwardly looked to her right, and then to her left. Just what was with her precious little Kamijou-chan? For as long as she'd known the boy, he'd never behaved like this; this was completely out of character for the soft-spoken and complacent boy, and Komoe knew it.
Taking a quick breath, Komoe regained her composure, and put on a happy face for her beloved students.
To Kamijou Touma's surprise, time flew by, and relative normalcy surrounded him on all fronts. During the periods in which he'd spend his time within the confines of a classroom, complete normalcy consistently descended, again and again, almost like clockwork. Once, he'd encountered the Jumpy Bunny in the hallways, but, aside from this event, the day was unfolding unremarkably.
Then, his legs had come apart, getting stuck in the walls of the middle-high school's second floor male bathroom. After some work, he'd reigned in the nanorobots that'd suddenly become so obsessed with colliding with the walls. To his thankfulness, Kamijou Touma had been that bathroom's only visitor, at that point.
Then, the timeslot in which physical education would take place came knocking, the day's last period.
Somehow, between encountering the Jumpy Bunny, who, oddly, hadn't quite seemed as jumpy as usual, and making his way to the rather expansive, grassy field located behind the middle-high school, Kamijou Touma found himself being shadowed by a certain blue-haired boy.
The boy was under the assumption that Kamijou Touma didn't know of his presence; the blue-haired boy assumed wrong. Touma's own brain's wave patterns gave Pierce's existence away.
"Oi, Aogami. I know you're there. You can stop acting like a fucking weirdo now. Anytime. Really, I insist."
The blue-haired boy produced a soft, irritated grunt, as he fell in line with Kamijou Touma's footfalls, walking at the apparently soon-to-be-crowned harem king. "Am I really getting so sloppy? Was it the smell? I forgot to shower, I know! It can't be that obvious though! Not fair! Kami-yaaaaaaan! Where have you been?! Your cute relative has been rejecting me at every turn, and I! WANT! HEEERRR!"
The two were hardly the first to arrive in the field. Of their own class, their teacher, just as miniscule as ever, Fukiyose Seiri, Himegami Aisa, and Touma's own "distant relative hailing from Denmark, "Olivia" had arrived. Touma made note of the fact that his "relative" had opted for a pair of boys' track shorts, rather than the revealing women's shorts which were standard issue. A part of him couldn't blame her for doing so, and, yet, another part of him loathed the idea of Othinus hiding her body, when she'd always been so willing to flaunt it.
Kamijou Touma didn't speak another word to Aogami Pierce. Instead, he picked up his pace, and took his place next to his teacher. Towering over her, the young-seeming woman looked up to him, and offered him a warm smile.
"Yomikawa-sensei should be here at any moment! Unfortunately, it seems that she's running a bit off-schedule… oh my, I hope everything's alright. I can't just leave you kids out here by yourselves, now can I? Hm… but, how is the lesson planning for tomorrow going to get done, now…? Oh WELL!"
Touma paid the blue-haired boy next to him a glance, and he immediately regretted doing so. Like a predator, Aogami Pierce could be seen, his head tilted in "Olivia's" direction. He wasn't doing anything overtly disgusting, though, the way he stared her up alone made the once pointy-haired boy want to deck him.
"Stop looking at me."
Touma found himself grinning. A sick part of him loved watching the former Magic God handle herself. With a domineering firmness, she'd spoken her piece, as she crossed her arms beneath her bosom. Next to "Olivia", Fukiyose Seiri cracked her knuckles, threateningly, and Aogami Pierce instantaneously looked away.
"B-but, Olivia-chan! You're being so cruel! You won't even give me a chance, after all. You don't know me, or what I'm about! I'm the sweetest boy in the world, this side of a light novel protagonist!"
Her eyelids slammed shut, and "Olivia" began to grind her teeth, as she raised her right fist. Her body awkwardly vibrated, and a vein in the side of her head throbbed.
"I. HAVE. NO. INTEREST. IN. YOU… STOP. TALKING. TO… ME… OR. I… WILL… KILL… YOU. DELUDED. PERVERT."
"Is that a "maybe", Olivia-chan?"
From afar, a canteen of water was hurled. In an arc it flew, and eventually made contact with the back of Aogami Pierce's head. Its hardened metallic surface crashed against bone, and, like a lightswitch, the blue-haired boy's consciousness was flicked off. Tumbling forward, he found himself face-first in the grass. "Olivia" produced a sigh of relief, as Himegami Aisa patted her on the shoulder. Komoe was whispering something to her; Touma could've eavesdropped, but didn't.
"Oi, Tsukuyomi. It's not hard to put him down. Even a small child like you could do so with ease."
Yomikawa Aiho had arrived, evidently. Having closed the distance between herself and the unconscious form of Aogami Pierce, she collected her canteen. Clad in a simplistic, green tracksuit, the soles of her sports shoes were plastered with hardened mud. Long, dark hair trailed down her back, tied into an elegant, but efficient knot. Not far behind her, scores of other students, part of the same class as Kamijou Touma's arrived, some mere minutes behind schedule.
In response to her fellow teacher's statement, the young-seeming Tsukuyomi Komoe stuck her head up, her cheeks glowing a bright shade of pink. As the childlike teacher began to take her leave, she announced, "don't push yourself too hard, Kamijou-chan! It's only your first day back, after all! Take things at your own pace. Just try your best!"
If only she knew what he was capable of. Othinus seemed to be thinking similar thoughts, as she cast an awkward gaze in her Understander's direction. In response, Touma simply shrugged at her, and turned his attention to Yomikawa Aiho, who'd already begun to dish out orders. She'd slumped the unconscious form of Aogami Pierce over her shoulder, like the pelt of some great beast, and got the trio of Fukiyose Seiri, Himegami Aisa, and "Olivia" on their way; it looked like it was going to be another class of laps. Their classmates had already begun doing so.
"Kamijou," Aiho spoke, addressing the odd one out. He hadn't moved an inch. "It's good to see you back in your classes again. Worried words have been circulating involving you. Is… everything alright? You can talk to me. I might only see you one period a day, but you're still my student, and, therefore, I still care about you."
"Fun times. You're involved with "him", the "top dog" in this City, you know fucked up better than a lot of people, don't you? You'd probably be one of the few people who really would understand. Thinking about it, "he'd" probably understand, too. Wonder what he's up to."
Kamijou Touma raised his arms, and rested them behind the back of his head, as he stretched; even if he didn't need to do so, simply performing the useless action made him feel a little bit more at home amongst dozens of human beings, something he'd once been, but could never again be.
"Just had personal business to take care of, sensei. Took a little bit more time than I thought it was going to, and, well… here we are. That's all she wrote. Didn't mean to worry anyone, honest."
Apparently satisfied, Yomikawa Aiho nodded. "I'm sure. Now, go on, Kamijou. Sun's a-shining, and your legs seem to be working fine. Get in there and go for gold."
"You got it, sensei."
Kamijou Touma wasn't about to show off. Despite his earlier stunt, he merely acted by turning away from the form of his physical education teacher, and building up momentum from a walk, to a brisk jog. The fact that he'd neglected to change into proper attire apparently wasn't an issue; perhaps he was simply being let off the hook?
For a while, everything was going along well enough. Initially, Touma sought out familiar faces amongst the crowds of students jogging laps around the middle-high school's field. He first searched for the form of his senpai, but couldn't seem to find her. Secondly, her sought out, and eventually managed to identify the trademark headband of the Jumpy Bunny, Keshouin Asuka. She looked like she was about to collapse, and her physical education uniform's shirt was plastered with sweat.
It was when Kamijou Touma passed by a chain link fence, separating the grassy field from the public street and walkways beyond that everything went to Hell.
Zeeee, nunununuuu.
Touma stumbled and fell unceremoniously, his right and left legs breaking apart, as the nanorobots that composed the limbs sought out the fence's surfaces, rushing towards them as if they were being reunited with a long-lost lover.
All eyes that could've been were upon him. He could already hear the loud, shrieking whistle being blown by Yomikawa Aiho, who was rushing towards his form, feet slapping against the grass. He flopped, helplessly, like a fish out of water, struggling on a dock.
"Fuuuuccckkkk. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. SUCH. FUCKING. MISFORTUNE. Just kill me now."