Quick thing: thanks, derikdragon for following and favoriting! It's great to have you on board. Thanks, Destati69 for following and favoriting! Welcome aboard! Thanks, Nishaven for following! I'm very grateful for your continued support!
As we always do around this time, why don't we get into the section of these pre-chappy words in which I respond to your lovely reviews?
Guest: thanks for the catch, friend. I've patched up the offending issue.
In regards to the second post script message, while I have plenty more Touma and Seria moments planned to shine brightly, perhaps such a thing as a "four-way" will be possible. There have to be narrative balances.
321jaz: that it does, friend! If only all things were so simple, huh?
I'd say our dear hero deserves a break, accompanied by a truly beautiful young woman who knows just how to take care of him. If everything that he'd already been through prior to his forced transformation wasn't enough to justify this, then I truly do believe that Touma surviving the process of having every individual cell in his body mutated and mechanized would be more than enough. Othi-chan... she's certainly something else. Indeed, her views on the concept of polygamous sexual encounters do sound quite fun, don't they?
Something very much does seem 'off' about those three. Their behavior doesn't seem to be natural, even by the standards of individuals who might have become 'Born Again' Christians. As you suggested, the mystery does indeed continue!
I certainly strive to do my best, and I'm much more than simply 'glad' to know that you're enjoying a Certain Broken Testament. I can safely say that I'm enjoying the process of weaving its narrative very much.
Light and darkness are two sides of the same coin. One can't have one without the other.
As always, it's great to know that I'm able to consistently gain your approval! I hope to continuously do so through subsequent chapters.
whwsms: while there's certainly sweet lemonade to be found, you're most certainly correct: not all things are heading that way, though I digress. Let's go over some of what caught your eye, friend!
Seria's "hmph" was more of a joke than anything; perhaps she was making fun of typical "Ojou-Sama" like behavior? Kumokawa Seria knows one, after all. In regards to the "Mating Ritual of Beauty-Senpai (TM)", there won't be only one mere instance of this. That much I can promise without unleashing too many spoilers, I think. You're very much correct regarding a certain honey-scented 'Queen'; if she doesn't move her tush, she's going to have to, as you suggested, 'settle'. Then again, I could be throwing you for a loop. To learn the truth, you'll just have to read on.
That it was. Who would've thought it? Othi-chan's a freak in the sheets.
Tsuchimikado Motoharu may have made a major misstep, to say the absolute least about all of that unfortunate business.
Touma's obsession with the 'paper bag man' might not be unfounded. What would Kumokawa Seria, a logical realist think of such a matter? Would she doubt her kohai's words?
Hell's fury will pale in comparison to Kumokawa Seria's. That's all I can say on that for now; I'll leave these words here and give them the chance to stew for a while.
When the lid does eventually and inevitably 'pop off' of this proverbial can of whoop-ass, Kamijou Touma will be exposed to a violent and radioactive bathing of whatever might lay within. There's a good chance that others will be affected by the runoff, as well; but regarding this, time will tell as it always does.
It's great to know that I'm able to continuously gain your stamp of approval! I hope to consistently do so through subsequent chapters.
Alph97: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Lenny Faces aside, friend, thank you very much for your review, and for your kind words. I hope to hear more from you!
Handsomistic1: I know, cliffhangers are awful, aren't they! For what it's worth, I don't enjoy bearing them against you lovely people. Unfortunately, they're something of a necessary evil in some situations. I, too enjoy the chapters in which romance can be found; so expect plenty more along the way, friend!
Less of a daydream and more of a hallucination. Regarding Touma's mental state, that subject's up in the air. It'll likely remain there for some time.
The attempted four-way assault played out just about as well as it had previously. There was no conceivable way that Spring-heeled Jack could beat back a surgical strike delivered unto him by three Saints.
His reign of terror, his string of petty crimes, his constant pranks would come to a screeching halt. London would be victimized by Spring-heeled Jack no longer.
From the right, Kanzaki Kaori lunged, leaping forth from the shadows at speeds that would've blinded potential onlookers. Less of a human being and more of an amorphous blur she made her move as part of the established team effort.
Brunhild Eiktobel leapt from on high; she'd chosen to strike from above, having leapt from the highest point of a nearby cathedral.
Saint Silvia, aided by Knight Leader rushed the quartet's foe head-on, weapons drawn, prepared to rend flesh and draw blood if need be.
There were no onlookers to speak of, however. A Clearing Field had been established, and the trio's foe seemed to be willing to play within that field.
At least this foe fought with a sense of honor. He or she or it obviously didn't wish to involve outsiders in their conflict.
Knight Leader attempted once again to cast Thororm's Defense Formula, though no amount of commanding his foe's clawed gloves, apparently his or her or its only weaponry to "Turn to Zero" seemed to play out in the way it was intended to. Such was the nature of Hrunting being deprived of Telesma.
From all sides the Saints, the Saint-Valkyrie and the Leader of the Knights of England surged down upon their foe. Four overwhelmingly, immensely powerful individuals clashed against one.
Or, that was what was supposed to have happened.
Instead, their weapons had crashed against one another, while their foe had seemingly disappeared; of course, the Saints and the Saint-Valkyrie knew better.
He or she or it, whatever it was, it hadn't vanished. It'd leapt like a jumping spider mere moments before Kaori's nodachi Shichien Shichiou, Brunhild's broadsword, Silvia's bare fists and Knight Leader's Hrunting had clashed against one another.
Spring-heeled indeed.
Some few feet away from the quartet it stood, tall and confident. Clad in a bright yellow raincoat, its hood pulled up, a mask with a faux-facial expression of surprise adorned the face of the quartet's foe.
Kaori took a step forward, rubble crunching beneath the soles of her boots. With the Saint, Silvia, the Saint-Valkyrie Brunhild and the Leader of England's Knights at her side, their differences temporarily set aside for the common good (and for convenience), the Saint of the Far East gritted her teeth.
"What are you?"
"I'm me, lass."
"Enough with the pseudo-mysterious nonsense!" Silvia boomed. "Surrender, or I'll beat the last drop of your willpower from the marrow of your bones!"
Spring-heeled Jack fired back. "Ye 'aven't been doing a right proper job with that yet, lass."
Brunhild had enough. She rushed her Spring-heeled foe, moving nearly at the speed of sound.
Yet, despite this, he or she or it, whatever it truly was, it danced to the side before the Saint-Valkyrie's feet had even left the ground.
With her pre-collected momentum, the Saint-Valkyrie's feet crashed against a nearby structure, a high-rise apartment complex, one which had been vacated due to the Clear Field's placement, and forcibly rocketed herself back in her Spring-heeled enemy's direction, causing every individual glass item within the complex, its windows included to spontaneously shatter.
Kaori, Silvia and the Leader of England's Knights took advantage of Brunhild's assault and rushed back into the fray.
There were no tactics, no planning and no observations of strategies. It was an all-out brawl, a proverbial screaming contest. The Spring-Heeled foe forced Shichien Shichiou to glance against his right glove's claws, beat back Silvia with a swift kick to her gut, one which sent the mighty Saint tumbling like a football kicked about by a child, and sidestepped Brunhild's latest attempt at overtaking him with brute force.
Kaori, however, had been provided with the chance to look into her Spring-heeled foe's eyes during the extremely short period of time in which Spring-heeled anomalous existence and Saint had been quite close to one another in proximity.
It was heterochromatic, its left eye's iris blue, its right eye's iris a bright shade of yellow.
Silvia had quickly recovered from the blow received, and she was clearly even more furious than she'd been previously. The Saint saw red, and joined Brunhild in her newest assault. Spring-Heeled Jack deflected Hrunting's incoming arc by crashing either of his hands, curled into fists against the Knight Leader's wrist, causing his hand to crumple.
With a flick of his index finger and thumb, Spring-heeled Jack knocked the Leader of England's Knights away like he was little more than an empty tin can.
Without a magical chant, seemingly without the aid of runic carvings and without even a singular Magic Circle in sight he huffed, swiftly taking a deep breath, and vomited forth a plume of translucent blue flame, one whose crackling form consumed Knight Leader.
Knight Leader had been stunned, and stumbled like an old drunkard though he appeared otherwise unharmed. The quartet's Spring-heeled foe bopped Brunhild on the head, sidestepped Saint Silvia's berserking flurry of fists mere seconds before she began to throw her fists at the air where her foe had only just stood, and vomited forth another plume of flame in the direction of Kanzaki Kaori, who managed to avoid the plume entirely by taking notes from Jack's own pages; she rolled, coming to rest some ten meters away.
Brute force obviously wasn't going to cut it.
Covered in dust, pelted by debris the soles of her boots disturbed and forced from the ground, the Saint of the Far East panted, slightly. She hadn't faced such heavy resistance since her conflict with Acqua of the Back, as William Orwell had been known at that point in time, a time which felt like it had been so long ago.
With a swift punch to the gut, followed by an uppercut and a subsequent forceful kick to the face, one which shattered bones and rattled his skull inside of his head, Knight Leader was down for the count, coming to rest in the middle of the heavily-damaged (and thankfully vacant) London roadway. Hrunting laid abandoned some distance from its wielder's damaged body.
"I'll ask you once more… what are you?"
"Lass, I don't rightly know what sort'a answer ye be expectin' from me. I'm me, an' yer you. I'm 'ere 'cause I 'ave ta be, 'cause the blokes yer workin' for just 'an't quite do th' right thing. I'm sure yer used to 'necessary evils', though, aren't ye? I know lass. I know th' feelin'."
Kaori wanted to get a closer look at that right eye. While the whites of all humans possessed visually identifiable veins to an extent, her Spring-heeled foe's right eye had looked far more bloodshot than what would've normally been expected.
It almost looked like it'd bulged from its socket, larger than the eye of a normal human, though there was no evidence that this was a case. Such could've easily been the result of a visual hallucination.
Silvia evidently maintained that brute force was the superior method for dealing with the issue at hand.
In response to Silvia's aggression, Spring-heeled Jack simply leapt over her and proceeded to deliver a swift series of brutal kicks to her back, far too swift to have been delivered by the body of a normal human being; their foe himself was nearly as light-footed as a Saint, and likely just as deadly if left unchecked.
With one last strike greater than the others, Saint Silvia was sent careening into the nearby cathedral, crashing through its walls and bringing the structure crumbling down to its foundations, so terrible was her impact with the structure.
There was a chance that she would emerge in a timely fashion, but Kaori didn't count on it, nor did Brunhild, who paid her closer ally a moment of concern before she returned her attention to the Spring-heeled adversary before herself, and before the Saint of the Far East.
Brunhild took to Kaori's side, balancing herself in place, the hilt of her broadsword gripped tightly in either of her hands.
"I have an idea, Saint of the Far East. Silvia's brutishness may have cost us both her own aid and that of the Knight Leader for the time being, but it has also showed me the truth of this matter; our adversary will not fall merely through the slashes of blades and battle cries. Speaking of such things, distract it. Throw yourself at it or use your womanly charms to seduce it."
"W-womanly… charms?"
"Now is hardly the time in which becoming flustered is the appropriate response. Do it, Saint of the Far East."
Their Spring-heeled adversary kicked at the rubble beneath him, softly humming a tune to himself, sounding vaguely like the nursery rhyme known to those in the English-speaking world as "Ba, Ba Black Sheep". Apparently, he noticed that he was being eyed intently by both Kanzaki Kaori and Brunhild Eiktobel.
"What? What's wit' th' looks, lassies? Yer thinkin' that I'm finna bloody well hit ye when yer talkin'? What sorta beastie do ye take me for? T'would be jus' a bloody cowardly move, that. Oh, n… lass? Ye might want ta pull yer denims up. Somethin's… loose. Wasn't pervin' on ye, ma'am, I promise. Jus' noticed 'er now in fact."
Kaori looked downwards, towards the one-legged blue jeans which adorned her lower form. There was indeed a white band of sorts visible where her legwear had sagged.
The Saint's cheeks became bright red, blood rushing into her face as she struggled to pull her legwear up, tightening her belt as she ceased to make eye contact with she and Brunhild's Spring-heeled adversary.
"T-thank you, but I believe you've caused enough destruction in this place as it is. Give yourself up, and I promise by my very Sainthood that no harm will come to you."
"Except that's not something ye can promise, Sainthood or not. Ye lack true control over the situation at hand, as you who've served beneath the oppressive heel of tyranny always have and always will, unless we bring about changes in the way the magical world is run. That's just it, lass.
"I can't blame ye for the position ye find yerself in. T'is just the result of many centuries of oppression after all, not something easily countered er toppled. I used ta be bossed 'round by an oppressive boss once, lass. There's an alternative to tyranny and there's an alternative to servitude."
The Saint of the Far East sheathed her blade; at speeds far beyond human, she rested the sheathed weapon against the earth beneath her.
"Seven flashes."
The wire technique succeeded in its mechanical setup, each sharp and barbed strand slashing or otherwise shearing away shreds of her foe's raincoat and cutting her adversary's flesh, though Spring-heeled Jack didn't seem to be in any sort of overwhelming pain. Jack even managed to identify the placements of a single wire, tugged on it, and began running its bladed fingertip over the barbed strand.
Rather than blood, blue flame leaked from Jack's wounds, spilling out like toxic chemicals pouring out from a collapsed oil tanker in a body of water.
Kanzaki Kaori hadn't been the only one to be taken aback by the Spring-heeled speaker's sudden change in demeanor. The Saint-Valkyrie, Brunhild, who'd been swiftly but quietly approaching the Spring-heeled speaker from behind had stopped mid-stride. Despite her momentary hesitation, she soon began to push onwards once more.
Kaori took another few steps forward, never lowering her guard or her Shichien Shichiou. Jack stood with his arms at his sides, his bladed gloves hanging limply. Indeed, the existence's right eye was considerably larger than its left. With a bright yellow iris filled to the brim with crimson veins, it bulged and pulsated, like it was experiencing trouble with remaining inside of its socket.
"What is this that you speak of? Tyranny? Be more specific so that you can be more easily understood. Names, places, examples. Anyone can make a bold claim, stranger."
Just as Spring-heeled Jack was about to reply, Brunhild Eiktobel struck. With a ceremonial knife carried on her armor-plated person she jabbed the weapon into Jack's flesh, piercing the raincoat. The Saint-Valkyrie quickly carved an odd-looking dotted rune, a physical point of focus for one of her casts.
This particular runic brand triggered the casting of a Body Hijacking spell. Based not on a Norse fable but rather crafted from a personal desire, the Spring-Heeled adversary of the Saint and the Saint-Valkyrie lost control of its body's nervous functions while the reigns were handed over to Brunhild. There was a thud; Spring-heeled Jack collapsed before being quickly willed to rise once more by the Saint-Valkyrie who was apparently rather curious as to just what the being was.
"Demon! Foul, stinking… stupid… ugly-lookin' demon!" Saint Silvia proclaimed, righteous fury in her tone of voice. She'd returned from her strange journey into the nearby cathedral, evidently.
As Saints, imbued with a fraction of the Son of God's overwhelming holy power, both Kanzaki Kaori and the half-Saint half-Valkyrie existence Brunhild Eiktobel had been able to understand this reality as well.
But it wasn't quite that simple. There was no particularly 'fell' presence about this queer existence that stood before them. It was a demon of some type or category, yes, but the overwhelmingly negative nature of corrupted Daemoniac mana was not present.
"Kill it! Send it back, screaming to the abyss that spawned it!"
Saint Silvia was obviously set in her ways, but Kanzaki Kaori would investigate further. She had to. Such an anomaly had never before been witnessed, not by the Saint of the Far East. Brunhild Eiktobel had reluctantly taken to aiding the conscious Knight Leader, who too was taken aback by the queer being before him.
"I'll ask only once more. What are you?"
"Ye got potatoes in yer ear, lass? I'm Spring-Heeled Jack. I don't rightly know what yer expectin' from me."
Silvia had originally planned to deliver upon the foul demon quite the earful; but as she'd grown nearer, her state of being as a Saint seemed to resonate with the queer existence which was becoming less foul.
There was nothing 'evil' about it; the fell Demoniac mana that coursed through the forms of demons and all manner of horrid things torn from the Dark Beyond by selfish or vengeful casters was not present. It did not clash with the Saints' collective existences, nor was the Saint-Valkyrie affected, negatively or positively.
Moreover, the queer existence didn't seem bent on attacking the quartet who'd once more been reduced to a trio, as Knight Leader had once more lost consciousness, a mere shade of his former self whose weapon, Hrunting, was no longer empowered by the original Curtana's Telesma.
Brunhild took the proverbial stage and posed an inquiry.
"Why do you continually torment these lands, Spring-Heeled one? You've no place here."
He shook his head, seemingly confounded.
"Don't worry yerself too much about it, lass. Yer a right proper one, fightin' wit honor and wit conviction, truth is, lass, ye deserve more than an existence as slaves to a sinister and controllin' agender, jus' like all intelligent creatures. Tha's th' motto o' th' Sons o' Taured. Agreeable enough? Good-bye for now, lasses - 'n lad! Good-bye and good day."
Soon, Spring-heeled Jack performed a truly queer feat; without wings or any alternative mode of aerial locomotion he floated like a stunt actor suspended by secured bindings on a film set, before he fell, then rose from the cityscape, fell and rose, like a vehicle passing over so many steep hills.
He'd be back and his adversaries knew it. His leave was a temporary reprieve.
Such interesting, if concerning information would quickly need to be forwarded to the Backstabbing Blade, and to Karasuma Fran in Academy City. There'd been something of a gamechanger that'd taken place, after all. It was hardly a casual occasion.
One question among others remained, shared mutually by the Saints, the Saint-Valkyrie and even by the unconscious Leader of the Knights of England; what was the purpose behind that being's constant visitations?
"Another day, another blown-up street, another scenario that's going to need a cover story," Silvia complained. Tossing the unconscious Knight Leader over her shoulder, she huffed, unimpressed.
"Why'd this lug have to insist on accompanying us? Bloody right useless, sorry lot this one is."
Kaori placed her sheathed Shichien Shichiou within a hooked, leather-bound loop protruding from one of her many belts. The Saint of the Far East just couldn't seem to force her eyes' vision away from the horizon. It seemed that clouds were rolling in, though they didn't quite look threatening. White and fluffy, they were the sort the Saint welcomed.
"Given the circumstances, he put forth his best effort."
"Bah," Silvia spat, wincing as she began to take her leave from the party of convenience, "You've softened up. I don't recall ordering a serving of soft-boiled Kanzaki."
"You seem to be conveniently forgetting that you took a fair beating as well."
Saint-Valkyrie Brunhild Eiktobel had dropped a reality check on Saint Silvia, one which Silvia didn't appreciate all that much. The Saint of the Far East was a little more than simply "surprised" that the Saint-Valkyrie had seemingly come to her defense.
Kanzaki Kaori turned her thoughts back to Spring-heeled Jack. What was its game? What was it trying to accomplish through repeatedly engaging Necessarius' forces and those who associated with Necessarius as a matter of convenience? Were they being gauged, their combat abilities tested? What on Earth were the Sons of Taured?
Perhaps it was a distraction, but from what? There were too many unanswered questions for Kaori's likings.
Everything was going almost too well.
As the stoplights transitioned, they alerted Seria to the fact that she could press down upon the vehicle's 'locomotion pedal'. Kamijou Touma watched those beyond the vehicle's interior pass him by, colored blurs more than human beings, at least at the speed the vehicle was travelling.
The roadways were almost entirely vacant at the hour in which Seria and Touma had decided to begin their exodus. Aside from the occasional commuter driving to, or perhaps from their place of work there was little to see in terms of traffic.
The wind rustled Seria's dark, feathery hair; she'd pulled down a pair of aviator-style sunglasses from the crown of her head, setting them over her eyes. She looked like a supermodel more than she did a high school student. Upon her nearest bare leg Touma's hand was placed; either she hadn't noticed or, alternatively, she simply didn't care.
Passing over a great bridge overlooking a section of Academy City's seventh school district, Touma recognized the adjacent section of the district as belonging to Tokiwadai Middle School. Even from on high, the middle school stood out like the brightest of stars, or like the sorest of thumbs. Its impressive promenade looked even more luxurious from afar. It practically sparkled beneath the sun's rays. Most of the morning's clouds had been beaten back, though some remained to bring anxiety to picnickers, hikers and dogwalkers alike.
Kamijou Touma didn't want to think about dogs, not after everything that'd spiralled out of control due to the death of one.
"Senpa… erm, Seria. Sorry, creature of… heh. Creature of habit. Here, let's try that again yeah? Hey Seria."
"I'm listening loud and clear, my kohai," Seria responded. Delicately she turned the steering wheel of her vehicle, applying the breaks as needed and occasionally pushing back down upon the 'locomotion pedal'.
She was the picture of elegance and refined, tempered class.
"Oh, I ought to mention it before you go and think I haven't noticed… I see that you seem to be quite… intrigued, shall we say, by my legs. Feel free to do whatever you'd like with them."
"I don't mean to impose," Seria's kohai began to explain, "but I do have this… thing. Call it what you want, a fetish, a kink, it's all the same thing I guess. It's still with me, but that's not really a bad thing, I don't think so at least. There're worse things to be turned on by, huh?"
He always was such a little gentleman, trying to explain everything with such casual terms to the best of his ability. Seria's cheeks lit up, becoming bright red as she struggled to keep her mind focused on the roadway in front of her. Blood was rushing to her face, and if she didn't know any better she might've thought that a nosebleed wasn't far away.
"Your interest is innocent. Touch as you please, though you're welcome to do much more than that. These windows? None outside can see what's happening on the inside. If I roll them up, you can do anything you'd like to me. Anything. Only if you're comfortable; I certainly don't wish to impose either."
Passing beneath the archway which separated school districts seven and fifteen, the scenery changed before Touma and his senpai. There was a considerable architectural change; school district fifteen was much more urban than the residential and 'homey' school district seven.
"I'm not seeing anyone else but I'm definitely, sort of, kinda, having explicit relationships with someone, sort of a 'friends with benefits' kind of thing, nothing involving any relationship that's set in stone. She's clean, a… well, she was a virgin, heh. I know for certain that infections can't latch onto me, in the way that I exist now anyways, not that I'd have any. Phase-matter resin kills microorganisms instantaneously. Just thought you should know that."
From Touma's form, ribbons of nanorobotic machine-phase matter danced, as if he was attempting to prove that he was telling the truth.
Touma's confession had spilled out like a glass of milk knocked from the surface of a table. It didn't sound like it'd been planned; it seemed to be more of a spontaneous, spur of the moment admission.
While Seria was certainly disappointed to hear such news, she had to look at the situation logically and not react in a volatile or childish manner, not that such a desire existed within her. That's exactly what separated Kumokawa Seria from the other brats who associated with her kohai, and she knew it. Her maturity and logical outlook set her above all others, it was an advantage that would need to be maintained.
If sexual conduct with her kohai would be completely safe, if he was telling her the truth (and Seria had little reason to believe that he'd lie, especially given that he confessed the truth regarding his 'sexcapades' in the first place), then that was all she could ask of him. Attempting to control her kohai in a way that the likes of Mental Out likely would've if she'd found herself in Seria's position would do no good. He had the right to do as he pleased, so long as all parties involved consented. It was hardly a surprise that she'd lost 'the race', but there was still victory to be found.
It was hardly a surprise that she'd lost 'the race', but there was still victory to be found.
Even so, such was the price to pay when confidence and bravado stepped into the picture.
"I very much appreciate your honesty, my kohai. This hardly surprises me; you're quite the dreamboat. As long as you're mine when you're with me, I don't foresee any issues arising from your maverick ways. I know how to compromise. You know, Tsuchimikado often teased you in the past about how you have a 'harem' but…"
Kamijou Touma couldn't help but quietly chuckle to himself; a certain former Magic God was going to be disappointed.
"Senp… I mean Seria? Can you not talk about him? I don't mean to be pushy, I don't want you to feel like you've got to walk on eggshells, because you don't, there's… huh. There's some real fucked up business between us right now."
"And what sort of business would that be, if you don't mind my asking? Could it have something to do with… the "Other Side?"
If Kamijou Touma still possessed the ability to create saliva within his mouth, he would've spat a great wad of the stuff forth, and likely would've felt quite bad when it'd inevitably met face-to-face with some part of his senpai's dashboard.
"You know about…?"
"How long did you think I'd remain in the dark, my little Touma-kun? How long did you think the truth could be hidden from those who find themselves in positions of power? Quite the interesting story behind my learning of this largely unknown part of our world."
That made enough sense to him. Kihara Gensei had informed Kamijou Touma about Tsuchimikado Motoharu's encounter with Kumokawa Seria, during the period in which "Agitate Halation" was a relevant subject of discussion around bigwig board meeting tables across Academy City. There was a link and Touma knew it.
Touma cursed under his breath. "Tsuchimikado did something to you. The old man told me. I don't know how he knows, but he must've been watching from the shadows, typical… fucking… no-good hunchback coward."
"A 'curse' was laid upon me as I've been told, one which resulted in the loss of one of my eyes. To think there are people who believe such things to be the work of the mentally ill, the superstitious and writers of fiction. Quite a shame that I can no longer count myself among them. Magic business is very complicated as it turns out. I've poked my nose where it didn't belong on more than one occasion. That's our little secret, my kohai. Can you keep it?"
"Yeah, of course. Lips are sealed. That bastard's just giving me more reasons to skin his worthless hide with every fuckin' day that passes... both of them, the old man and the goddamn spy."
Finding themselves stopped before another set of lights, Kumokawa Seria leaned towards her kohai and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"I'm dealing with Tsuchimikado personally. Don't you concern yourself with him. I have reason to believe that he already has come to regret his decision to lay a magical curse on me, but regret isn't quite enough. I'd like to see tears and to hear begging."
"That makes two of us," Touma remarked, more to himself than to Seria. "How much do you, erm… know? That sounded vaguely threatening, didn't it? I'm genuinely curious. You're part of a select handful of people in Academy City who know about "it" now. My condolences."
Seria smirked, as the vehicle began to move once more. With the Dianoid in sight, their conversation would be ended abruptly. Regardless, Seria owed Touma the same sort of honesty he'd offered her in his sexcapades confession.
"The basics, for now," Seria explained. "Ancient magicians created magic due to the resentment they held against ancient espers. It exists to fulfil the caster's desires and can be wielded in a near-infinite number of ways, with principal mechanics including magic based on folk tales, characters and settings from religious texts and even Urban Legends. There are branches of certain churches hidden from the public eye dedicated to the regulation of magic; that last bit I had to beat out of our… "friend" Tsuchimikado."
Touma didn't voice a reply for a few moments. Kumokawa Seria was in on "the global conspiracy"? Could it really be called that? A conspiracy it was, in a sense, and magic cabals could indeed be found across the globe.
A 'global conspiracy' it was, then. Joyous.
"I do hope that this doesn't change anything between us. Personally, I feel as if there'd hardly been anything that'd remained between us at all, for the longest time. With the apparent and now confirmed loss of your memory you hardly seemed to know me at all.
"You evidently remember how close we once were and I hope that we can reignite the flames of such closeness. Your being may be different but I truly do believe that you are you through and through, even if you've been augmented with some… 'improvements'. That's not to say I didn't appreciate the person you were before the abhorrent circumstances that befell you."
As the vehicle entered the Dianoid's immense and largely vacant parking area, having passed through the last few series of stoplights, Touma chose to respond.
"I want to become close with you too. I remember all the good times we had when we were younger, when I was still in middle school, even. That was a long time ago, it almost feels longer than it actually is. I don't want to feel like you're just some stranger to me anymore either."
"Do you recall your hypnosis attempt upon... hm. Upon Shokuhou Misaki?"
"I do. Dick... but, Seria, look. I don't know if associating romantically, you know, going 'farther' is fair to you. I'm not going to lie to your face, I have feelings for other people, girls, too. I've… I've kind of come to realize that I can let myself have the chance to love, you know? I don't have to protect everyone around me, because you… you can protect yourselves.
"I want everyone I've tried to push away to be close to me, I just want to show the people I've come to love and respect just how much I love and respect them but that's easier said than done when there're feelings involved… you're not just defenseless objects to be guarded. My eyes are open now. It would be idiotic and selfish of me to have "a girlfriend". It would hurt too many people and it would hurt me, because I know the people I love would be hurting. Am I making sense?"
Kumokawa Seria's vehicle had come to a stop in parking spot surprisingly close to the towering Dianoid. Seventy stories high, the hexagonal prism almost resembled something out of a high fantasy film, a great tower forged by the limitless arcane power of some infinitely intelligent race. Its otherwise pale surfaces were alight with many colors, most of which changed at predestined intervals. From the hexagonal structure's faces, many thick wires extended outwards.
For a while Kumokawa Seria had remained silent; she'd offered her kohai a genuine smile, as if to reassure him that she hadn't been offended; it was true that she hadn't.
If anything, his most recent confession not only served to prove that he trusted her deeply, a fact that made Seria's heart skip a beat, but it also served to prove that Kamijou Touma's selflessness had survived whatever abominable acts he'd been forced to suffer through.
Finally, only after placing a soft kiss to Touma's cheek, Seria spoke her piece.
"You're comfortable enough with me to voice the fact that you're self-aware, my kohai… I'm overwhelmingly honored.
"You realize that the love you can offer is a force greater than any monogamous relationship could possibly attempt to limit. Rather than adhering to the concept of normality you've come to realize that by wielding this immense love of yours, you can bring smiles to the faces of those around you…
"But it might not be that easy. Not everyone is as open-minded as you are, not everyone has been enlightened in the way that you've been enlightened. It's simply a shame that such enlightenment was achieved through what I'm sure were ghastly circumstances."
The driver and passenger side windows began to roll upwards. Kumokawa Seria reached for the dial on the vehicle's radio and turned the dial clockwise, causing the hip-hop music blaring over the vehicle's speakers to further increase in volume, sending vibrations throughout the vehicle, and through those that were inside of the vehicle.
If Kamijou Touma had a human skeletal structure inside of him, his bones would've been rattling.
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Seria quickly clambered atop her kohai, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting the tip of her nose against Touma's own.
Concern spiked throughout his form as he saw the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of his senpai's eyes. It was unfamiliar and exotic, it was like nothing Touma had quite seen before, at least from Kumokawa Seria.
"You've suffered the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders for some time, not because you had to but because you chose to. Even now you choose to bear the consequences of your open-mindedness. There are those who will reject the idea of anything but "one love" and some might turn their backs to you."
"I hope not."
"Some might. Do NOT for even a second count me among them. We've been forced apart from one another by circumstances for too long, my little kohai. If you'd accept me as someone who can take care of you and show you the tender love you deserve, then I… if you'd share your love with me, I'll throw the flawed concept of 'normality' to the wind so that we might become close, even closer than we were before your memory loss. I've come too close to losing you too many times, far too many 'close calls'... I won't risk it again. If you'll let me in, my kohai, I'd love to love you, even if such a love would not be the status quo's "normal" one love."
Was that a proposal? Of course it was. Kamijou Touma knew it to be a proposal. Seria had cast aside her great pride for the chance to become romantically involved with him. What was stranger, she seemed to know him even better than he knew himself. Kumokawa Seria, the young woman known as "Beauty-Senpai" and with good reason was willing to compromise with him.
But was compromise the right term? Touma didn't know whether that was the right word to describe it or not. His omniscient data-gathering protocols were being proved less than omniscient, even as they struggled to find some cold, calculated reasoning behind Seria's words.
Then it came to him.
Kamijou Touma had found himself in a similar situation before; it wasn't a compromise, it was an Understanding, a willingness to allow both parties to find their own happiness while establishing something innately beautiful. It wasn't what most would call 'normal' but what, exactly was 'normal'? It was a loose and extremely vague definition at best.
The being that had once been a 'normal high school boy' with an 'unusual right hand' and the concept of 'normality' didn't go together very well. They never had and they likely never would. Then again, that person was dead and gone. They were irrelevant.
It was a realization that dawned upon him, as Kumokawa Seria continued to look down at him, clearly aware that he was thinking. She hadn't broken down into tears, she'd fought them back in fact, but her cheeks glowed red, like the coloration of a beet's shell.
"Let's get close again. I'll start, feel free to hit the panic button if I get too weird."
"Hush up, my little maverick, and kiss me. I won't be hitting any buttons other than yours."
And that's exactly what Kamijou Touma did. His cold, coppery-tasting lips were pressed against Seria's own, either of his hands working their way down towards his senpai's legs.
Seria's only adjustment to the situation was taking his left and placing it upon her breast, forcing its cold digits to squeeze gently upon the mass of flesh. Seria felt a bulge push against her thigh as Touma's synthetic manhood was filled with machine-phase matter.
"I made a new one," Touma admitted rather awkwardly, when his senpai began to massage the bulge with either of her hands. "It's… erm, fresh. Never touched before, not even by me. I can do the same thing to my lips if you want. Probably should've let you in on that a little bit earlier, sorry."
"No need to apologize. Whatever girl you're having regular liaisons with has a lovely taste in breath-freshener. Strawberry happens to be one of my favorite flavors, believe it or not."
Seria grinned down at her kohai. Her fingers began to work his jeans of machine-phase matter, quickly being assisted by the pants which undid their own zipper and pulled themselves down.
"My, you really are happy to see me, my… big… kohai. Nine whole inches, and all for me too. Aren't I just spoiled? Tell me, are you capable of adjusting its size freely?"
A part of Kamijou Touma believed everything that was unfolding before him was part of the narrative of some frustration-fuelled dream. Maybe he'd suddenly jolt up in his bed with a warm, useless body of flesh and a broken right hand. It was less than wishful thinking; returning to that feeble existence wasn't something Touma sought.
"Yeah," he finally answered, snapping out of his data-infused daze. "If you're comfortable with jumping into this sort of thing then so am I. How'd our… err… your ancestors… I can't really consider myself human, can I? What I was trying to get at is that cavemen fucked a lot to communicate. Nothing new here."
"I'm quite comfortable, given that this is something I've wanted to do with you for a very long time."
Seria giggled, more to herself than to Touma as she forced her bosom into his face. Reaching downwards, Touma's senpai excitedly gripped the surprisingly natural-looking utensil with her right hand and began to work it up and down. Using the fingers of her left Seria ran her fingers through Touma's soft, cool hair.
"You remarked during our last meeting, something cryptic about not quite knowing whether you're still capable of reaching climax and achieving a subsequent ejaculation or not. Would that still be an issue?"
Touma wordlessly nodded; with his face occupying the space between his senpai's breasts, Touma's hands had found their way to her legs, a reality Seria didn't mind. His fascination with them was even more of a turn on, and the way he touched them suggested that fetish play was far from something new to her kohai.
Experience was quite the boon for a sexually need Kumokawa Seria.
For Touma, admitting to his present inability to ejaculate was more than just a bit of an embarrassing situation to be in, even if it was one beyond his control.
As if she'd read his mind, Seria comfortingly stroked her kohai's head.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I can only imagine how disorienting it must be to find yourself trapped in an unfamiliar form, my little kohai. There's no need to push yourself, I enjoy just having it in my hand. Relax and let your senpai take care of you."
To say that Kamijou Touma felt like a champion would be a massive understatement.
There he was, engaging in truly depraved sexual acts with the most gorgeous woman in his entire high school in that woman's own incredibly advanced and luxurious vehicle. Perhaps Seria and Othinus would even come to like one another? Touma could only hope. One way or another, he'd find a way to show all of the members of the opposite gender he'd found himself falling for just how much he loved, appreciated and needed them in his life.
It was in that moment as well that the words once spoken by Aogami Pierce, of all the people, rung out in his higher mind, a voice clip that'd been recorded and stored as manipulatable data within Kamijou Touma's converted higher mind.
"Kami-yan! Stop showing off your harem!"
It'd been true for a while, hadn't it? Kamijou Touma had many female admirers, and, secretly, more to himself than to anyone else, he admired them right back.
But as he'd always done he pushed them away and tried to guard them like they were precious little china dolls. At least he'd come to realize the error of his ways; late was better than never.
He did have a harem. He, Kamijou Touma, he had a harem.
One way or another, he'd find a way to make them happy and to allow himself to be happy, and to love them. He'd get to know them better, he'd show each of them just how much he appreciated them, he'd show them equal amounts of the limitless love he felt for them and ensure that they felt appreciated and wanted.
"You've grown quiet. Enjoying yourself, I take it?" Seria inquired, following her words with a short giggle.
Muffled, Touma's response struggled to emerge from between his senpai's breasts, but the words managed to worm their way out.
"More than ever before. I love you Seria."
She stopped, allowing Touma to free himself from her bosom's grasp, though he hadn't particularly minded his time spent there. Seria's eyelids had widened.
As if she was a computer experiencing a hardware crash, she completely seized up. Leaning back, Kumokawa Seria looked into her kohai's eyes for a moment. Resting either of her hands upon his cheeks, Seria's cheeks reached the pinnacle of their redness.
"Since we crossed paths the other day, since I first regained all of my lost memories after they, erm, 'changed' me, I know more than ever that I'm in love with you! It might sound weird, immoral even, but I'm in love with a lot of the women in my life. I love you all equally, I completely adore every single one of you, you're all so equally important to me. I want to show you how much I love you. I can't make everyone love everyone else, I wouldn't try to, I don't want to be some… fucked up cult leader, but I CAN let you in and show you the affection you deserve!"
"T-Touma?"
"You could've easily turned your back on me but you didn't. You kept on trying to associate with me even if I barely knew who you were or what you were to me. It must've been so painful for you to interact with me only to have me try to push you away. I can't even imagine what that would be like. I'm so sorry that things had to play out like that but that's over now. I know who you are and what you are to me."
Kumokawa Seria just barely managed to keep her emotions in check, even as they were overflowing from within her, as if she was a fountain and her feelings were an unending supply of water.
"I love you too Touma-kun. I love you so very much. In reality, there was hardly any other way that you could romantically operate, not without causing irreparable damage to the bonds you have with the females more actively involved than I in the incredible life you lead.
"Don't think that I haven't been watching over you, my little kohai. I'm a person of great importance to this City, and as such I have figurative and literal eyes all about. I've attempted to aid you on your 'suicide quests' during more than one occasion, though for reasons beyond my control I've always found myself at a disadvantage, unable to offer you my aid. It was truly loathsome… what at first seemed equally loathsome were the many 'other girls' who surrounded you.
"I can admit to my own flaws, unlike others in this City who surely wouldn't be able to do so. I was envious, not only because it wasn't I aiding you in the fights you lead, but that others held your attention while I remained on the sidelines, barely-remembered when we were once so close to one another, often unable to even aid you from afar."
"Can't really call that a flaw. It's human nature. No more farness, Seria. We're going to get close again, if you want to do that."
"I do!... the anomalous female attraction you possess is… less of a problem to me in the present. I've come to accept it as a fact. To attempt to program you and bend you to my own whims would be horribly cruel, and I want nothing but good for my little kohai. Now I want nothing more than to never grow apart from you again, Touma-kun… during your month-long absence, I found myself barely able to operate at all on a day-to-day basis. I never want to experience such a thing again, and I'd much prefer it if you didn't wind up in a position in which your safety would again be compromised. Should you find yourself in such a position, you won't be alone, not now."
"Is this a car, or a confession booth?" Touma rhetorically inquired, teasingly. Kumokawa Seria gently slapped her kohai, with nowhere near enough force to cause him any sort of harm (though such a thing was no longer possible unless he internally authorized it, Seria wasn't aware of such mechanics).
While Seria began to readjust her kohai's legwear, only to have said legwear not only adjust but pull itself upwards, as well, Touma asked another question, not one of rhetoric like the previous.
"Just curious here, what position do you hold? Are you involved with a bigwig corporation, maybe one of those facilities that fuck around with the level fives?"
"Not quite. I act as an assistant to one of the Directors."
It was Touma's turn for his own eyelids to widen.
"That… must be hard. Heard from some sources that those people are pretty fuckin' incompetent, about as competent as a toddler elected to be Prime Minister of Japan."
"Your sources, whoever they are, they aren't wrong," Seria remarked.
Taking a deep breath, she placed one final kiss to the lips of her kohai and then shifted herself back into the driver's side seat. Though Touma's hands found their way to her legs, Seria couldn't have minded any less. She placed her own hands atop his and enjoyed the sensation of having her legs massaged by his cool, gentle hands. The way he worked her muscles, the way his hands slid over her skin took Seria's breath away.
"That feels… Aaah. That feels so good. You know how to take care of a woman, that much is evident… t-the man I work for, he's arguably… the least deserving of a swift demise amongst the lot. He's truly human, rather than some cyborg powered by greed. Then again, who am I to talk? I'm involved with their schemes to a lesser extent, and the pay is undeniably higher than what most positions in the City offer."
For some time the two sat in silence. Kamijou Touma continued to massage his senpai's flawless legs while she held either of his hands. At one point Seria's smartphone rang, though she ignored the caller and allowed the call to be answered by her voicemail service.
Touma could imagine a frustrated Tsuchimikado on the other end.
His vision wasn't all that far off from the truth.
There was indeed a frustrated and rather vexed Tsuchimikado Motoharu on the other end, one who swore up and down in his dorm as a bored and equally tired Karasuma Fran sprawled herself out on his dingy old couch.
"I trust you."
"I trust you too Seria. You've never given me a reason not to trust you. You fuck with me sometimes, but that doesn't mean I can't trust you. Everyone's got to have fun once in a while, and, hey, I don't mind being the butt monkey."
It was in the moment that Seria recalled where she'd parked her vehicle, and why she and her kohai had come to the Dianoid in the first place.
Slightly embarrassed by the fact that she'd been blinded by her own emotions, she gently and rather reluctantly removed Touma's hands from her legs.
"You know, Touma-kun, unless we have more secrets to share with one another in this fateful and deeply enjoyable moment, why don't I see us out? I'm simply dying to show you off. Maybe we'll encounter some of "your girls", hm? I'd love to make a good first impression..."
Kumokawa Seria emerged from within the vehicle, its interior practically invisible from the outside; only the tiniest of the most vague, amorphous shadowy shapes were visible even to Kamijou Touma. Soon, both of the vehicle's doors were closed; with a press of a small device she produced from her pocket, the vehicle's doors were locked.
As Touma took to his senpai's side in their approaching of the Dianoid, he couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate, ironically enough given his previous fifteen years of misfortune-riddled years on planet Earth. Kumokawa Seria walked like a goddess, her long strides confident and full of life. With her arm around her kohai's own, Seria held her head high, haughty and undaunted by the certainly stressful life she lead.
As both entered the Dianoid through one of many entranceway doors, heads turned to look at the pair, mostly at the natural beauty that was Kumokawa Seria. Young men muttered to one another in frustration and jealousy, while young women gasped and politicked.
At the former parties Kamijou Touma sneered, holding his right hand's thumb up as if to say "I win". Seria, who'd noticed her kohai's confident display of victory out of the corner of her eye couldn't help but giggle.
In a certain Welsh hamlet, a certain "demon hunter" in the employ of a certain magical cabal was having less of a good time.