Response time has come once more, dear readers. I can't wait to see what you lovely people have to say!
Guest: I can't say too much about what's going to happen subsequently... read on, friend, read on. That's the only advice I can offer, for now that is. Regarding extreme circumstances, they're abound, but perhaps not fully in the way we're all thinking.
whwsms: a war of the words, if you will. At least, so far, this war remains one of words.
Seria has certainly developed as an individual, over the period of time in which her kohai had seemingly dropped off the face of the Earth. I'm certain that Shokuhou Misaki has developed as well, in her own way, or has at least been changed. We'll simply have to read on and find out, won't we?
Very IN-teresting, given that, as you suggested, Misaki is completely in the dark regarding the 'Other Side'. I suppose, at this rate, she's bound to find out more, one way or another.
I'll do my best to ensure such doesn't occur... so far, I suppose I've done well enough. I can only ramp up my standards from this point onwards and push, push, push!
It's great to know that I'm able to consistently gain your approval, friend! I hope to continually do so through subsequent chapters.
321jaz: memes go here. Something, something back again. Something, tell a friend. Something.
Better luck next time, girls! Better luck next time. It's the thought that counts, right? It's unfortunate that the Queen and the Ace had to endure the 'antics' of a certain Fetish King, to say the least about that matter.
Index has good reason to be concerned, I'd say. Almost no one knows what the future holds. Those that do are often less than concerned about it, finding themselves in positions of power beyond mortal man's comprehension.
Patience, I can only presume. Patience, understanding, and perhaps something different, if the 'confession' Misaka Mikoto spoke of is any indication.
I really do love pulling out surprises, friend. Aleister Crowley, in a manner of speaking, is like Komoe-sensei. Watching his espers grow, watching the likes of the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer constantly shattering the odds, no matter how stacked against him they are, it's all amusing. It's especially amusing, given the fact that most, if not all attention is currently away from Crowley, giving him the freedom to scheme as he pleases.
Hit the bunkers; but before you do, make sure to buy plenty of my male vitality supplements! If you get that particular little reference, good for you. If not, good for you all the same. Cookies are available on the way in, for everyone.
As always, it's great to know that I can continuously gain your approval! I hope to do so often through subsequent chapters.
Anon Guest: really! Who is to say? For all we know, a certain Archbishop has eyes all over Academy City. If Aleister Crowley can observe all things, then why not his magical counterpart?
I can't say a whole lot about the upcoming events, friend, but I can say this: expect the unexpected and read on. That's the one way to learn all things for yourself.
A certain Mental Stinger is going to make an appearance, and an impactful one at that, mark my words; but that's not going to occur for a while. We've some narrative twists and turns to make before we reach that point in time. Rest assured, Ayu's going to make quite the splash when she does turn up.
I'll have plenty of tricks up my sleeve; for now I'll merely continue to do my best to keep you lovely people on your toes, looking over your shoulders frequently. It's great that I'm able to continuously gain your approval, and I hope to consistently do so through subsequent chapters!
Handsomistic1: Kamijou Touma is no longer in possession of the Imagine Breaker. In regards to him being akin to Cyborg of DC fame, well, I'll debunk that here and now: that's not the case in my own mind, though it could very well be in yours! It's all up to how you interpret these things, friend.
The heat's going to be turned up in more than one location, but, arguably, the dial's been cranked up most heavily in Academy City, indeed. You're onto something with that... but, for now, that's all I can say about that matter, unfortunately.
That's certainly the feeling I was intending to convey! I'm very glad to know that the interactions and strained relations between Kumokawa Seria and Shokuhou Misaki were able to have such an emotional impact!
If Misaka Mikoto had been a character in a manga, she would've been sweatdropping to the extreme.
If Shokuhou Misaki hadn't looked like a fuming, raging beast, Mikoto could've laughed at her own internal vision of herself.
The Mental Out user's face had become bright red. With either of her hands stuffed into the pockets of her skirt she stomped along with no path in sight or in mind. She simply walked. Both level fives found themselves some distance away from the dormitory in which Kamijou Touma hung his proverbial hat.
"Uh. If I can ask, who were you talking with, Shokuhou? Didn't sound like you guys get along very well."
"We don't, Misaka-san. We don't get along very well, or at all for that matter."
The sixth-ranked level five's snappiness took Mikoto by surprise. She shot the starry-eyed, red-faced, golden-haired girl a frustrated glare.
"Just because you're pissed, that doesn't give you the right to lash out at me. I literally haven't done anything to you, so chill out before you get yourself hurt. Did you find out where he is?"
Mikoto suddenly felt rather remorseful about her own reprisal. Shokuhou Misaki seemed to calm down. The color in her face faded back to its natural, pale state of being. Her lips, curled into a scowl at first curled downwards as her brow's furrow gave way. The honey-scented Queen of Tokiwadai breathed a sigh.
"I apologize Misaka-san. It wasn't right of me to attack you without provocation, I hope you can forgive me. There is a long and complicated history between Kumokawa-san and I, but I think the two of you will get along well; she's… changed drastically over this last passing month. I understand why, as well…"
Mikoto shrugged either of her shoulders. She shot an aggressive stare in the direction of a group of boys whose collective gazes followed the motions of her swaying hips; almost immediately they not only came to regret their decision, but fell to their collective knees and begged for forgiveness. The Railgun could only grumble in response.
"To answer your question, Misaka-san, Kamijou-san should be at the Dianoid, in school district fifteen."
"Yeah, I know where the Dianoid is… guys are so fucking annoying. Like, leave me the fuck alone, will you? Do I have to dress up like a ghost to keep these creeps from looking at me? I'm not trying to get attention. Just don't look at me when I walk, is that too much to ask for?"
"Attractiveness comes with a cost, Misaka-san."
"Yeah, I… wait. Did you just…? Whatever, it doesn't matter. Thanks, I guess."
She stopped. She stopped dead in her tracks and she sighed. Shokuhou Misaki turned her back, looking away from Misaka Mikoto, who couldn't have been any more confused.
"Go see Kamijou-san on your own."
"Wait. Huh? Am I missing something here? I feel like I'm missing something. The loop is over here,"
Mikoto extended her right arm outwards, wiggling her fingers.
"I'm here." The Railgun extended her left, wiggling her left hand's fingers before she dropped both of her arms back to her sides.
"Way out of it. Want to put me IN the loop? This just isn't you. This isn't a Shokuhou thing to do. You should be trying to race me there, or something, no? Ahh. Headache. Ouch, headache. Ouch. That kills."
The smile was weak, though it was still present. Mikoto had seen smiles of its ilk before. Like a crescent moon, it curved slightly. She'd smiled such smiles before.
It was one of barely-masked pain.
"I have much to think on before I begin interacting with my Prince… give Kamijou-san my regards, Misaka-san."
Misaka Mikoto had no way of knowing it – she could only guess, in fact – but Kumokawa Seria's words had stabbed into an exposed section of proverbial flesh between the plates of Shokuhou Misaki's metaphorical armor. Blood had been spilled and layers of metaphorical skin had been gouged.
"I believe that to you, Kamijou Touma is little more than a goal, a point to be proven."
As the sixth-ranked level five turned away from the third-ranked, who could only awkwardly extent her hand outwards, the starry-eyed girl's smile faded, her lips curling downwards into a frown.
Shokuhou Misaki walked with confidence and swagger, something that resembled a waltz of royalty; but Misaka Mikoto couldn't see the tears dripping down the Mental Out user's cheeks, originating from the corners of her starry eyes.
"S-Shokuhou? You… feeling alright? Everything okay? Where are you even planning on going?"
Mikoto's inquiries weren't answered. The slowly faded like a series of words spoken in the depths of a cavernous pit.
Soon, Shokuhou Misaki had turned a corner, beginning her downhill walk down a steep section of cobbled pavement paved along a declining hill. The sections of grass that flanked either side of the cobbled walkway swayed in the light breeze, as did Misaka Mikoto's hair.
Once again the Railgun produced her phone, staring down at it while she walked in the opposite direction of Shokuhou Misaki. She could only hope that Tsuchimikado Motoharu had given her the correct contact information, and that he'd been truthful with her about that boy's location.
She could only hope that Shokuhou Misaki was alright. Misaka Mikoto breathed a sigh, as she looked back, to the area where she and the sixth-ranked level five had been standing, together, mere moments prior.
Musujime Awaki was still dumbfounded. She looked from one side of the small room and then to the other, blinking repeatedly. Remaining seated next to the woman who'd taken her in as a freeloader, the fully-grown teacher who resembled a small child, Musujime Awaki leaned forward, slumping against the table.
Academy City was a place of miracles. It was a place where science ruled, and it was a place where witnessing the use of extraordinary abilities was a common, everyday occurrence. One could hardly walk down the street without seeing an esper doing something strange with some sort of ability or another.
What she had seen wasn't science.
The glow emerging from that boy, from the simplistic circle he'd drawn, the shaking of the small home and the low, angelic humming that was vocalized from nowhere, yet from everywhere at the same time wasn't science. Musujime Awaki had felt it in her bones and in her skin. Her skin still crawled, covered with goosebumps.
"I have SEVERAL questions," Awaki stated once she'd managed to get a grip on herself. By that point, a troubled-looking Kumokawa Seria had returned to the interior of the small home and had taken her seat next to the extraordinary boy she called her kohai.
She took him into her arms. Kumokawa Seria pulled him close and protectively embraced him like a mother bear might've embraced her cub.
"Did everything go as you planned, Touma-kun?"
Touma nodded in affirmation.
"I'm assuming so? I've never used magic before. There was definitely a glow, a lot of shaking too… so I assume it worked? Oi, Musujime, ask away. I'll answer as best as I can."
And yet his words suggested that this wasn't necessarily the case.
Kamijou Touma shrugged his shoulders as he slumped downwards. Resting his head in his senpai's lap, Seria took to ruffling the boy's hair, running her fingers over his scalp as she looked down at him.
Tsukuyomi Komoe looked like she was on the verge of tears, though she didn't look sad, per say. Rather, her tiny lips had curled upwards, into a smile.
"M-my little Kamijou-chan is all… HE'S ALL GROWN UP! Musujime-chan! Hold meeeee!"
"W-wait…"
The level four teleporter, Move Point, a potential level five candidate ended up looking like she was babysitting a small, bratty child. The fully-grown Tsukuyomi Komoe had seated herself in her dependant's lap and clasped onto the shoulders of Awaki's jumper. The Move Point user's facial expression was all that was needed; both Kamijou Touma and Kumokawa Seria could easily read enough from that alone to gauge just how the teleporter felt about her predicament.
A short amount of time more passed before Kamijou Touma rolled himself over, the back of his head laid comfortably in the lap pillow provided to him curtesy of an overjoyed-looking Kumokawa Seria, who continued to fiddle with her kohai's hair.
"So, okay. Let me… give me a minute to put this into perspective then. If "magic" is real, then just what is "magic?" I'm very lost. I've fallen and I can't get up, mentally at least."
Kumokawa Seria sat upright, thrusting her chest out as she held her head high, confidence practically beaming from her form.
Musujime Awaki found her gaze drifting towards Kumokawa Seria's bosom. She gulped, and then shook her head slightly. They certainly a nice pair, indeed.
"Magic was devised as a means for ancient magicians to "compete" with ancient espers, who the ancient magicians found themselves jealous of. Espers could wield great power but those who'd go on to become magicians couldn't. Magic was, and still is something that exists to fulfill a caster's desires."
Move Point raised an eyebrow. Apparently, she had other inquiries to pose.
"… and, I gather that espers can't use magic, then. Is that the case? That's what I picked up from your earlier conversations with your boyfriend."
"It's a little bit more complicated than that," Seria assured with a nod. She didn't seem to be displeased with the words she spoke. Instead, a small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"That's the case. Espers can't wield magic due to the fact that their Personal Reality and AIM Field would clash with the process of refining mana, a process which involves the use of one's life force, supposedly a part of one's soul, formed when one's life force and memories are electrically connected with one another. Mana is incompatible with an esper's Personal Reality and AIM Field."
Musujime Awaki gritted her teeth as a headache wracked her. With either of her index fingers, she massaged her temples.
"This is way over my head. I'm drowning here... okay, I think I've got one last question to ask, then I'm… sheesh, I'm done after that. This is all too weird for me, man. You were talking about how I was going to be up shit creek without a paddle if I knew about magic, since I'm an esper. What's the deal there?"
"And you will be if you don't know what to expect," Touma stated, firmly. "Magicians prey on the element of surprise they've got when it comes to dealing with Academy City and the scientific world. They could want to hunt you down just because you know even a little bit about it, magic that is."
"Any idea why this is being kept from espers? Presumably the rest of the world, too? Seems like something that could be convenient for everyday use. Maybe I'm wrong, that's just the way I see it."
Touma certainly couldn't blame Awaki for being curious. Rising from the lap of a suddenly disappointed Kumokawa Seria, Kamijou Touma adjusted his position, keeping himself in close proximity to his senpai.
Working with what she was given, Seria protectively placed her arm around her kohai's shoulder, pulling him close one more. Apparently, the boy didn't mind the forceful attention.
Who was Musujime Awaki to judge? She merely shrugged their antics off. Still, she wouldn't have minded being the one doing the hugging, or, for that matter, being the one who was experiencing the sensation of being so close to that incredible bosom.
Awaki shook her head once more, as if she needed to physically move her body to clear and catalogue her thoughts.
"There's an intended balance that's designed to separate the worlds of the scientific and the magical from one another," Seria explained.
Despite all her protectiveness, that boy, whatever he might've been to her didn't seem to mind. He'd snuggled close, much to his overprotective senpai's joy. With either of his arms wrapped around her waist, he accepted his place.
"You see, from what I've gathered – and I can very much confirm the validity of this information, believe me," Seria began, "there is something of a peace treaty in place. Its intended function is to prevent either side from meddling in the affairs of the other."
"And that's exactly why what's happening with these pamphlets is so dangerous," the apparently exceedingly cuddly Kamijou Touma interjected. "A violation of this… "Magic-Science Treaty" could spell bad things. I mean, yeah, I just violated it by doing what I did, but fuck them. What are they going to do, waterboard me? Ooh, I'm terrified. Go start a war you fucks."
While Kumokawa Seria had found herself giggling quietly, Tsukuyomi Komoe seemed offended; after all, her precious little Kamijou-chan had just uttered filthy, dirty cuss words. Musujime Awaki simply looked confused. The comment about "starting a war" was potentially distasteful, but far from irrelevant. Academy City hadn't been in the right, far from it. Awaki could agree with the boy on that.
"Take my advice on one thing," Touma began to elaborate, moving his hands about to illustrate and accentuate his points, "there're some things you should know about. Not saying anything is going to happen to you, but it's better to be safe than sorry. I'm speaking from experience here. If things seem too quiet, if there aren't enough people around, if something is just not right, there's a "People-Clearing Field" in place. It does exactly what it says on the box."
"And?"
"It operates with… you're going to laugh."
"If I was going to laugh I would've done it by now. Hit me with your best shot, Kamijou."
"It operates with runes… if…"
Awaki performed a spit-take. Though she had no beverage to sip from, her own saliva sufficed.
"Sheesh, that is pretty weird… sorry. Carry on, I'm listening… holy shit, runes… who would've thought it."
Touma chuckled. "It all is pretty wild. If you're unfortunate enough to find yourself near the runes that make up the spell, it's just you and whatever magician wants to cook you up for dinner. You can just get out of it by finding your way past the runes – pretty easy in your case."
Once more Musujime Awaki began to feel the beginnings of a headache. She leaned forward, causing Komoe to tumble from the Move Point user's lap.
"I… I'm going to take a nap. Sheesh, this is a lot of shit to take in. Mass conspiracies, Magic-Science Treaties, runes?"
"Here? You're… just going to conk out here? I mean, I'm not judging… Komoe-sensei is pretty welcoming..."
"Kamijou-chan, y-you're too kind!"
"Yeah. I live here, Kamijou."
Komoe perked up. Having managed to pick herself up from the carpeted floor, she'd only just returned from her brief trip to the small home's miniature refrigerator, from where she'd obtained a new alcoholic beverage. Popping it open, she pressed the can's spout to her lips and took a long, deep sip.
"Yup! Musujime-chan is a freeloader here! Her living arrangements were supposed to be temporary, but…"
"She fell in love with me," Awaki clarified, rolling her eyes. "Then again, can you blame her?"
All three of the high school-aged individuals watched on as Komoe downed her intoxicating beverage. Kumokawa Seria was arguably the most surprised.
"Don't drink until you come of age! Especially you, Musujime-chan! A single girl like yourself needs to stay safe! Kumokawa-chan is safe because… because she… SHE HAS HER BOYFRIEND!"
Once more, Tsukuyomi Komoe broke down into tears.
"There, there…? Boy, oh boy. Sheesh, you can be such a child."
Musujime Awaki had taken the pint-sized teacher into her arms, allowing the Wonder of Academy City to openly weep. Kamijou Touma and Kumokawa Seria could only look to one another, both concerned and completely bewildered.
"My kohai," Seria spoke, turning her attention to Touma, "perhaps it would be better if we took our leave. We've… got things to do, after all, peoples to meet and politick with, and such."
Kamijou Touma nodded in agreement. He struggled to hold his urges in check, as the want or alternatively the need to kiss his senpai crept up behind him like an assailant clad in black hidden by the night.
Komoe obviously couldn't handle bearing witness to such things.
"Oi, Musujime. Could I ask a favor?"
"Am I really in any position to say no, at this point?" Musujime Awaki inquired as she managed to calm the deeply perturbed Tsukuyomi Komoe down, wiping the tiny teacher's tears with her own jumper.
As both he and Kumokawa Seria rose, Kamijou Touma shrugged.
"Yes, you are. You don't either of us anything. All we need is a lift to the Dianoid."
Such was easily done. Awaki simply laid her hand upon Kamijou Touma, and then upon Kumokawa Seria, who offered her a warm and genuine smile. In response, Awaki smiled back as best she could. Awaki's eyelids slid shut, bringing darkness to her vision, where multicolored dots danced from one side to the other.
Awaki's mind, though clouded by thoughts of conspiracy and outright betrayal by a world that had lied to her since her birth about the existence of an element known as "magic" nonetheless belonged to a person who found herself feeling very grateful and considerably enlightened.
With any luck, she'd see Kamijou Touma and Kumokawa Seria again in the future. With any luck, she'd be able to understand her thoughts and cravings a bit better by that point.
Having found themselves just outside of the Dianoid's great doors, Kumokawa Seria and Kamijou Touma looked from one side to the other. While the latter saw the former – or, more accurately, her perfect legs – the former couldn't see the latter.
At least until she looked down. A gasp of shock escaped from her lips as she fell into a crouch.
"I'm alright," the amorphous, grey-colored mass of machine-phase matter that Kamijou Touma had been reduced to remarked. Just how he spoke in such a form was beyond Seria's comprehension. "I think being teleported must've fucked with my magnetic field, holds me together. Electricity isn't involved in teleportation, right?"
"No. I don't think so, my kohai."
"Alright, everything's A-OK on this end. Magnetic field will reset itself eventually. For now, could you, uh… could you scoop me up, Seria?"
"Of course, come here, I've got you my little kohai. Everything will be okay."
As Kumokawa Seria began to hastily collect the amorphous mass that her kohai had become, cradling the buzzing, surging mess of nanorobotic resin as if she was holding a child in her arms, an unfamiliar voice spoke. Craning her neck to one side, Seria attempted to identify the source of the vocalizations.
"… I heard Kamijou's voice. Where is he…? Kamijou, Kamijou, wherever could you be… Bunny Grey, are you around here? My patience is running out but I'm trying to hold out. Gr. No-good Kamijou."
Clad in a hooded, pick-colored sweater, simplistic gym shorts, a pair of plain, white and otherwise colorless trainers, Karasuma Fran had her right hand outstretched, the side of the opened extremity placed to her forehead. As she moved her head about, two small antennae mounted atop her sweater's hood bobbed from left to right. Pulled over her head, the hood was almost too small for Fran.
"Oi! Karasuma! Here!" The amorphous mass of machine-phase matter exclaimed, speaking in Touma's voice.
"It's me! Here! In the beautiful girl's arms! Yeah, the big grey thing. That's me, long story, don't question it. I'll be fine."
Kumokawa Seria found herself in no position to blush or otherwise become flustered. Still, the compliment was deeply appreciated. She leaned inwards and pressed an affectionate kiss to the mess of machine-phase matter.
"… Kamijou?!" Fran aggressively questioned, one eyebrow rising so much that it looked like it was mere seconds from nearly flying freely from her face and into the sky above.
"Yeah, hi, I know this is awkward but… bear with us for a few minutes. Or was that bare? Ah, forget it. English sucks. Speak Japanese to me."
Fran looked on for a few moments, joining the other confused onlookers who, for various reasons, had decided to loiter outside of the Dianoid.
"Could you people stop staring? Shit! This is embarrassing for me, too! How do you think it feels to be the cyborg equivalent of a beach ball?! Why do these things always happen to me? Such misfortune! At this rate, I'd at least be able to gain sexual gratification from being kicked around by cute girls. Seria…?"
"Maybe this will make you feel better, my little kohai."
Placing the amorphous mass down onto the ground, Kumokawa Seria sat herself down upon it like she was sitting upon an exercise ball. She repeatedly adjusted her position, forcing her posterior to rub all over the ball-Touma, who could only silently retract his previous comment about misfortune. Being kicked around still stood.
Karasuma Fran looked like she'd been scarred for life, while previously enthralled onlookers began to make their way into the Dianoid proper, or simply left the premises altogether, apparently having had enough weird for one day packed into a single moment.
"You've got a nice ass. You should introduce us sometime."
"I know, Touma-kun. Do you like it when I rub my ass all over you?"
"Fuck yeah. As soon as my magnetic field is regenerated, I'm going to grab onto it, and…"
"STOP!" Fran exclaimed, waving her arms in front of her rapidly, closing her eyes shut and screeching like an injured animal. "Inappropriate! I need an adult."
Seria merely offered Fran a wicked smile in response, while ball-Touma chuckled in an almost sinister manner under his nonexistent breath. Karasuma Fran felt like she was in some twisted fever dream.
Before the young woman known as "Beauty-Senpai" in her place of education could continue to torment the evidently easily-traumatized Fran, her smartphone, stuffed into the pocket of her denim jacket began to ring, vibrating against the upper section of her right breast.
"Who now? It would appear as if I'm quite the socialite today," Seria muttered, irritation alive and well in her tone of voice. Seria casually crossed her right leg over her left as she began to bob her foot up and down.
She'd been enjoying herself. Interruptions were undesirable.
Producing the device, Seria accepted the call and placed it to her right ear, forcing the smartphone to remain lodged in place by squeezing it tightly between her head and her right shoulder, securely wedging it. Her facial expression was one of concern.
An unknown caller was rarely a good caller; 'never' was too extreme of a word to be applied in almost any circumstance.
"You've reached Kumokawa Seria. How might I be able to assist you, "Unknown?" I'll have you know I'm not overly fond of "unknowns."
"Hey. Is this… Kumokawa… Seria? Someone, a mutual friend I guess, he said that you're one of his… one of Touma's friends. That's where I got your number from. I don't mean to interrupt, but apparently, he's with you right now. Is that true? If so I need to talk with him. In person. Could you maybe let me know where you are? I won't take too much of your time, I promise."
A feminine voice spoke on the other end of the line, one which Seria didn't recognize. Putting a finger on where exactly she'd heard it before was proving more difficult than it should've been.
Kumokawa Seria could've had any number of reactions. She could've grumbled to herself, she could've sworn that she'd keep this 'newcomer' away from her kohai at all costs, she could've simply clicked her tongue, hung up the phone and pretended like it had been nothing at all. She could've lied to her kohai's face and he likely wouldn't have been the wiser, at least until something would've inevitably bitten Seria's behind, a karmic act of retribution by fate itself.
Instead of taking an action of that sort, she chose the high road. Loving Kamijou Touma meant sharing and sharing was what she would do. There was a possibility that she'd become so used to the concept that monogamy would seem boring and uninspired in comparison.
"Hello! It's a pleasure to hear from one of my kohai's friends. He and I have begun interacting with one another more often, as we… drifted apart some time ago, unfortunately. He and I are just outside of the Dianoid, district fifteen. I'd love to get the chance to meet you; any friend of my kohai's is someone I consider to be a friend of mine. What might your name be, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Misaka… Mikoto…?"
On the other end, the Railgun was completely bewildered. Tsuchimikado Motoharu had delivered quite the warning to her via text message; supposedly, this young woman was an unbearable, cold and ruthless tyrant that was supposed to be capable of giving the likes of Shokuhou a run for her money.
Kumokawa Seria certainly didn't sound unbearable or like a tyrant. She didn't even sound vaguely haughty.
The Railgun was certainly an interesting individual to interact with, and certainly a unique individual amongst seven mentally broken degenerates.
While Misaka Mikoto was engaging in a mental analysis of the 'facts' she'd been provided with, Kumokawa Seria was doing her own considerations. With Karasuma Fran only inches away, speaking in hushed tones to ball-Touma about the issues that were at hand, Seria would have to abandon her perch or exercise caution in what she said.
Misaka Mikoto still hadn't responded. Of both options, the latter seemed like a far more appealing option. Her kohai's amorphous form seemed to be capable of massaging her posterior in a way that threatened to have her panties soaking wet, sooner than later.
Maybe he could suckle every drop of moisture from them while she provided him with a high-quality handjob.
"Get your head out of the gutter Kumokawa. Snap."
"Misaka-san? Are you still there? Hi!"
"O-oh, yeah. Sorry, head in the clouds. I'll, uh, I'll be there soon. It was nice talking to you."
"Likewise, Misaka-san. Take care."
Ball-Touma finally managed to restore his form. Carefully, he became whole once more, taking a humanlike shape before numerous layers of extra nanorobotic resin were applied, finishing his return from an amorphous, featureless mass to Kamijou Touma.
Karasuma Fran's eyelids had widened, her lips parting. What had she even seen? Fran took a step back, and then another. She'd nearly lost control of herself, but Fran took hold of the metaphorical wheel once more.
In his new-old form he'd opted to garb himself in a new outfit; rather than wearing an informal suit, Touma was adorned in a simplistic white, short-sleeved top, beige khakis and unremarkable trainers. Almost immediately, either of his hands found their way into his pockets.
"I heard something about Misaka. She comin'?"
In response to her kohai's inquiry, Kumokawa Seria nodded affirmatively. She found herself smiling as he did, shaking his head while he chuckled to himself.
"She's… she's pretty wild. I'll be honest with you, Seria. I love her a lot. Just as much as I love you."
"If she brings you happiness, that's all I can ask for, my little kohai. Don't think I'll be turning my back on my word when the chips are placed down. I intend to remain at your side despite the strangeness of your life. I wouldn't say that I'd support you in the lifestyle choices that you've been offered by your peculiar life of heroics, only to then back out. I make good on my promises, especially those I make to you."
"Misaka Mikoto…?" Fran inquired, more to herself than to anyone else. Sitting herself upon a nearby bench, she looked up at the sky, brushing her hair's fringe away from her eyes as she blinked. "Misaka Mikoto."
"I miss Kakeru-chan."
For a while Kamijou Touma, Kumokawa Seria and Karasuma Fran found their way to their respective benches, just outside of the Dianoid. Fran had stretched herself out along the surface of her chosen bench, denying anyone the chance to sit beside or behind her, while Touma and Seria sat together on a bench some distance away from the lethargic-seeming Fran.
While she waited for Tsuchimikado Motoharu's arrival, Seria and Touma waited for Misaka Mikoto's. Presumably, one was going to be faster than the other. Academy City's strongest electromaster could easily outmaneuver a vehicle, whether accessible to the public or privately-commandeered.
It was the waiting that'd eventually gotten the better of Kumokawa Seria. Though she'd had her arm wrapped around her kohai's shoulders from the moment they'd sat down together, her right leg crossed elegantly over her left, she broke down and gave into her urges.
It started with a simple kiss on the cheek. Seria's lips connected with Touma's cold, coppery-tasting cheek. Seria's own cheeks remained pale, naturally-colored. Blood apparently wasn't willing to rush into her face at that moment.
"Oi," Touma vocalized, craning his neck. He leaned forward, peering into his senpai's eyes. He grinned, chuckling under his breath; at the same time, Kumokawa Seria produced soft laughter of her own before she pecked her kohai's cheek once more. "Something you need?"
"You," Seria swiftly elaborated. "You, my little kohai."
As Kamijou Touma's hands found their way to his senpai's legs, two young men passed both Touma and Seria by. They struggled to look away, obviously distraught; that bastard was getting lucky, while neither of them were getting even a single thing. What were they doing wrong? Was it the way they dressed?
As if to rub salt into the boys' proverbial wounds, Touma nodded his head upwards, grinning; he felt like a million bucks.
Seria pressed her lips against her kohai's own, forcing her tongue into his mouth for a few moments.
"A decent way to pass the time, no, Touma-kun?"
"It's alright."
"Oh, my, I'm offended~. Are my kissing skills poor? You are my first after all, forgive me."
Touma carried on, picking up from where his senpai had left off. His lips connected with Seria's own, periodically pulling away before they'd inevitably end up right back from where they'd started. The only sounds in the background were the chatter of passersby and Karasuma Fran's soft snores – apparently, she'd fallen asleep – it was quite the ambiance.
Then, Seria asked a question, one very inappropriate for a 'proper young lady' to be asking. Under her breath, she whispered into her kohai's ear, which her own lips found themselves pressed against.
"I obviously wouldn't seek to now, but… might I…? What I'm trying to ask is if I can suck you off."
"Huh. Now, that's something I never thought I'd hear you say, especially to me. Do I look like I'm about to say no? Like I said… issues with that, but I can get it up no problem. Stays up for as long as you need it to… I sound like I'm trying to sell you something. Are my shilling skills better than your inferior kissing skills?"
Seria feigned offense, reeling away momentarily before she pushed herself back into her kohai, bumping him to the side. Touma chuckled while Seria giggled aloud.
It was just like the olden days, yet, it was different. There was something inherently changed in the moment that Kamijou Touma and Kumokawa Seria had found themselves in.
It was even better. An 'upgrade' had been applied to their relationship.
"You're a terrible shill and you should feel terrible," Seria finally managed to answer, after both she and her kohai managed to calm their respective laughing fits.
Then, she pointed outwards.
"Touma-kun, look. Over there."
Kamijou Touma did just as he was told; then, he found himself being shoved from the bench.
Like an excited child, Kumokawa Seria let go of seriousness and professionalism. She leaped upon her kohai's back, wrapping her arms and legs around his shoulders and his waist respectively. Seria giggled aloud like a ditsy little schoolgirl, her eyelids closed shut as happiness surged throughout her.
"Seria, you make for a cute backpack," Touma teased. This only caused the stunningly beautiful monkey on his back giggle harder. She'd completely let go.
She'd released herself, allowing casual interactions to come to pass.
"And what are backpacks for, my little kohai? For school, obviously. You're welcome to boast about me to your friends anytime."
Seria's kohai was about to reply before audible stimuli captured his attention.
Click, click. Click, click. Click, click. Clack.
It was the repeated, rhythmic sounds of the soles of shoes tapping against the surface of the pavement.
Kamijou Touma looked in the direction of the audible stimuli. He bore witness to yet another beautiful individual who'd deigned to stay at his side, despite (or perhaps because of) her own mental hang-ups.
Adorned in Tokiwadai Middle School's winter uniform, Misaka Mikoto had found herself unable to even look upon the goofy sight that was Kamijou Touma. The third ranked level five rested her face in the palm of her hand, shaking her head from one side to the other.
"Look at you… I have my work cut out for me."
Kumokawa Seria clambered down from her kohai's back, standing professionally at his side, as if she hadn't been engaging in fun, casual behavior mere seconds prior. Softly clearing her throat, Seria folded her arms beneath her bosom and smiled in the Railgun's direction.
"Well met, Misaka-san. My name is Kumokawa Seria; we spoke on the phone earlier this afternoon."
"Hey, Misaka… it's really good to see you. It's… Misaka?"
"Eh? Don't get all weird on me."
Kamijou Touma looked to Kumokawa Seria for a moment. His facial expression was one of questioning. What he apparently felt he needed to ask permission to do was obvious enough to Seria.
He didn't need to ask permission. His body was his own even if he didn't understand it. He was no slave; Kumokawa Seria knew she had to make that clear as day.
"Why look at me?" Seria whispered, her lips mere inches from her kohai's ear. "I know full well what I signed up for, Touma-kun. I Understand your feelings and your romantic situation. I just want to see you happy. Do what makes you happy and I'll be happy. When I'm with you, it's very difficult for me to be anything but pleased, so go on, I'll be waiting."
"Seria…?"
"Touma-kun. You have a harem, there's no need to deny it. In any other situation, I'd likely find myself feeling betrayed but you were honest with me from the beginning. I know precisely what the situation is and I accept it. Becoming close with you again is worth making some minor adjustments to my own views and beliefs, now, be a good boy and go give that unending, overwhelming love of yours to your companion. I'll be right here waiting."
Misaka Mikoto was only just about to ask Kamijou Touma what he and his friend were speaking of, but she was silenced before words could even tumble from her mouth.
He was walking towards her, a smile on his face. She couldn't help but smile back; that boy, who sometimes acted like an Idiot, but wasn't an Idiot, he was nearing her. Coming ever closer. Mikoto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
Mikoto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
Touma quickly closed the distance between himself and the third-ranked level five. As he approached, his footfalls swift and sure, while blood decided of its own will to rush directly into Mikoto's face.
Everything seemed to have become a blur for a moment. More, time seemed to slow around Misaka Mikoto, and it slowed further once the arms of the Misaka Network's Savior were thrown around her waist.
Within the span of a few seconds, which somehow felt like multiple hours, Mikoto was held tightly in Touma's arms. Against her shoulder, Touma's chin came to rest. Either of his hands were placed upon the Railgun's back, their fingers gently and repeatedly running over the surface of her jumper.
"I love you."
"H…u…h?"
"I said, I love you. It feels good to hold you. Look, just give me a few minutes? Humor me, I know this might be embarrassing for you. I need my fix."
Mikoto was awestruck. She'd returned Touma's embrace, her own arms finding their way around his neck. She looked on, her eyes beginning to fill to their brims with warm, salty tears. His friend, "Kumokawa Seria", whoever she was had taken to pestering Karasuma Fran, whom Mikoto certainly hadn't expected. Seria repeatedly pulled the fake esper's hood over her eyes, causing her to flail about like a fish pulled onto dry land by a cruel angler.
Occasionally, she would look to the two, Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto, and she would smile, warmly and genuinely.
Mikoto couldn't even begin to understand what sort of relations they had.
"It's not embarrassing, don't be an Id… don't say nonsensical things. I… I love you too Touma."
"I can't explain how much I love you."
The Railgun struggled, tried and failed to hold back an onslaught of emotions. It was a landslide and she was a hapless hiker with a sprained ankle, powerless to stop it. Mikoto sniffled.
In truth, being loved by him was something she'd sought for a long time. There it was. There he was, telling her exactly what she wanted to hear, and not for the first time.
Yet it was different from her expectations. He allowed himself to seem weak in her presence, he trusted her, and in return she trusted him.
"Y-you're making me c-cry. I love you too… I-I'm… T-Touma, I'm sorry."
"For what? You haven't done anything wrong."
"For always being a terrible friend to you. I'd call you names and try to hurt you, after everything you did for me, for us, for everyone. I…"
Mikoto buried her head in Touma's shirt of machine-phase matter and allowed her tears to flow freely. An all-out offensive by her emotions upon her mind had been unexpected and not prepared for. Misaka Mikoto lost the internal war.
"I'm sorry that I ever yelled at you even once, and I… I'm… I love you."
"Is that the Railgun?!"
"Is she… okay?"
"Who's that boy?"
"Is that her boyfriend?"
Mikoto found herself gritting her teeth. Touma's embrace tightened and he pulled her ever closer, repeatedly kissing the crown of her head.
"I want them to leave me the fuck alone… I really d-didn't intend for our meetup had to be like this. I'm sorry that I'm a mess, you shouldn't have to see me in this way…"
Touma shook his head, no. Even though she couldn't see it, his gentle kisses served to soothe the mess of a girl.
"Bullshit. Just let it all out. C'mon, we'll sit, just let it all out."
They both did just that. Together, Touma and Mikoto sat upon a nearby bench, not bothering themselves with paying attention to passersby.
Soon, Kumokawa Seria joined the level five and the non-human, non-esper existence. Seating herself next to the Railgun, she patted the damaged level five on the shoulder, offering the best sort of comfort that she could.
It was an action that surprised even Kamijou Touma. Apparently, his senpai took notice of his surprise; in response, she offered her kohai a genuine, if thin smile.
"S-so, I'm f-failing pretty hard at m-making a good first impression, aren't I?" Mikoto rhetorically inquired. "Y-you caught me at the w-wrong time, I-I'm nowhere near this much of a pussy on a d-day to day basis. E-emotions suck."
"Altogether nonsense. People who hold back their emotions and choose a course of action in which they bottle their feelings up and keep to themselves tend to become… undesirable individuals, unstable. Cruel. Manipulative. Calculating."
"Like you, Shokuhou. Curious, it would seem you abandoned your previous course of action… I wonder, did my words get through to you? You're ill, just seek help."
Misaka Mikoto felt an arm wrap itself around her shoulders. Unnaturally cool, Kamijou Touma completed the embrace, placing his other arm around the front of the Railgun's shoulders. She produced a soft sigh of relief. Slowly but surely her tears slowed.
"Seria's right. Misaka, there's absolutely nothing wrong with finding a nice corner, curling up there and crying like a baby. The important thing to remember is to pick yourself up once you're done, because release is one thing but letting yourself be consumed by despair is another thing entirely."
"Y-yeah. No kidding right? That doesn't change the fact that I'm still a mess and that this is still a terrible way to make a first impression, so, maybe we can try again?"
Misaka Mikoto turned to Kumokawa Seria and extended her hand outwards. A genuinely smiling Seria took the hand of the third-ranked level five into her own and casually shook the extremity.
"I'm Misaka Mikoto. I attend classes at Tokiwadai Middle School!" Mikoto exclaimed, attempting to pump and pick herself up. Straightening her back, the Railgun puffed her chest out. She sniffled once more. Even as her cheeks were red, even as her eyes were bloodshot, Misaka Mikoto smiled as best she could.
"I'm a second year. I'm not too sure of what I'd like to do once I'm out of the educational system, but, I have plenty of time to decide, right? I wouldn't mind being a social worker, I know that sounds ironic given that I look like shit right now… heheh…"
"I'd argue that you look lovely. Besides, aren't you forgetting something, Misaka-san?"
Kumokawa Seria shrugged casually and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh… it's not that big of a deal, really. I'm the Railgun, the third-ranked level five, yeah, but that doesn't matter. Anyone can develop a powerful esper ability with time and dedication, I'm nothing special. I pushed myself hard to get this far. Anyone can! You just need motivation."
Mikoto felt strange, suddenly, like a ten-ton anvil had been dropped inside of her and was weighing down on her stomach.
For some reason, one unknown to the Railgun, a small frown appeared on the facial features of Kumokawa Seria, only for the briefest of moments. Like a storm passing through town, it came and I went. Quickly it was masked, replaced with a thin and pleasant smile.
"Well, I ought to introduce myself then, no? Kumokawa Seria, as you already know. I'm a third-year student at one of Academy City's many lesser-known middle-high schools, a place of education not particularly lavishing or fanciful, but it works I suppose. While not a classmate of Touma-kun, I'm… his senpai."
A contented grin appeared on Seria's face as she spoke the closing words of her brief introduction. She turned her attention to her kohai for a short moment, offering him a wink, before Seria's attention returned to the Railgun.
"Now, didn't you and my kohai have some business to contend with? That business is none of mine. I'll excuse myself and allow the two of you to chat. Should you need me, I'll be politicking with Karasuma-san. Oh, Karasuma-san! Wake uuuupppp!"
"W-wha…? Huh…? O-oh. Please don't speak with me."
"I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Karasuma-san~."
Seria rose from the bench and made her way towards Fran, who'd apparently fallen back asleep. Having rolled onto her back, her soft snoring attracted the concerned, confused and laughing faces of passersby.
While Seria began to pester the fake gemstone, Mikoto pushed herself closer to the boy who'd continued to hold her.
It wasn't like she minded.
"Hey."
"What's up Misaka? Thanks for humoring me. You're… you're really warm."
"Satisfied?"
"Nope. You'll take your cuddles and you'll enjoy 'em."
Mikoto could only shake her head in exasperation. Still, she didn't mind. With a crimson blush emanating from either of her cheeks, the Railgun wrapped her arms around the boy's waist.
"There's something we need to talk about."
Touma shivered in mock-horror before his embrace tightened. His chin was pushed against the Railgun's forehead, and soon his lips followed. Brushing her hair's fringe aside, Touma delicately kissed Mikoto's forehead.
"Uh oh."
"Oh, shut up… I was supposed to have someone else here who wanted to talk about the same thing, but… something came up. She wouldn't tell me what. Tell me something, do you have any memory of someone named "Shokuhou"? "Shokuhou Misaki?"
Kumokawa Seria had caught that. Her ears perked up and she listened on. The exceedingly attractive young woman clicked her tongue in aggravation.
"You're being used Misaka-san. As for you, Shokuhou, you're completely sick. How could you string this adorable little girl along like this? Are you completely self-absorbed to the extent that you're without even a shred of empathy? I'd always assumed the saying "like father, like son" was exclusive to fathers and their sons… I suppose not. As it would seem, father and daughter can be much alike, as well."
Seria listened as Kamijou Touma provided his answer to the question.
"Yeah. I remember… bits and pieces. I remember a beach, or was it a swimming pool? All I remember is a girl with blonde hair and weird eyes in a swimsuit. Heh… the smack-out with her purse hurt a bit. Seria used to mess with us, all in good fun, though. Shokuhou would get pretty pissy about it… heheh. I remember us fighting some sort of criminal group called Deadlock, too... they're gone now."
"… gone?"
"They're gone now Misaka. I remember when I had Imagine Breaker, and… that fucking old man. He tried to transform you into some sort of monstrosity. She was… she was the Mental Out girl, right? That's her ability? She was with us, and so was Sogiita. Y'know, he's someone I haven't seen in a while. Good guy."
Misaka Mikoto nodded reluctantly. What had he meant by "they're gone now"? Of course, the true answer was obvious. The Railgun simply didn't want to admit to it.
He'd killed them. Deadlock, who Mikoto had heard so much about through Shokuhou Misaki must've been completely wiped out by Kamijou Touma in an act of reprisal.
She grinned. They deserved it, the bastards.
"Yeah. Shokuhou's ability is Mental Out, she's the strongest mental ability user in Academy City and the sixth strongest esper. She's… she's told me a lot about you, over the last two months. We've grown a lot closer to one another."
"Yeah? That's good. I'm glad you're getting along, there needs to be more friendship in this hellhole."
"Heh… yeah, you can say that again! We were both… we were devastated when we learned that you'd just… up and vanished without a trace. I'm surprised she wasn't pissed; I was right there with you, and I just let you slip out of my fingers. I should've been more responsible."
Kamijou Touma shook his head, no.
"I shouldn't have fallen for such an obvious ruse, this one is entirely on me, Misaka. Never again, I'm not like I was before. I'm smarter, stronger, better. I also think I have an idea as to what you're going to propose."
She raised an eyebrow. The Railgun considered trying to free herself from that boy's embrace, but the desire was weak and pathetic. It'd been born premature and died soon after it'd emerged from her higher mind's proverbial womb.
The way Kamijou Touma held her was perfect. Misaka Mikoto cherished it. She cherished every kiss and every soft, tender word.
"Do you? Feel free to guess then, no harm in it."
Touma offered the Railgun some distance, though his embrace remained. Adjusting his position upon the bench, he looked over his shoulder.
Seria was almost behaving like Index might've. She repeatedly bothered Karasuma Fran, once throwing a small pebble at the fake gemstone's arm while she looked in he opposite direction, her vision following a passenger jet flying overhead. Seria soon joined Fran in her observations.
"I know both you and Shokuhou have been at each other's throats. Because of me. That sounds shallow but it's just the truth."
Mikoto shook her head, no.
"It's not shallow."
As if to reward her, Kamijou Touma pressed a kiss to Misaka Mikoto's forehead.
"Shokuhou and I had a past, then you came into the picture and we had and still have something. If Shokuhou and me had a past then we have a present, Misaka. She tried to get closer, I know that now only because I have access to the memories I'd lost, and you pushed her away, which you did no wrong by doing that. You didn't even intentionally do that."
"No? What else was I supposed to do? She wasn't fit to be involved with you, I think she knew it too. That's on top of the memory issue, but I only learned about that recently."
"Don't feel like you've got to defend yourself. It's only natural. So, now that you and Shokuhou have come to an agreement, having become closer to one another after everything you've been put through lately… you've decided that "sharing is caring", am I right?"
"Right." Mikoto could only accept that Touma had her figured out.
He brushed locks of her hair away from her forehead, gently running his icy cold fingertips over the Railgun's skin. Mikoto shivered, both in nervousness and in pleasure, rolled together to create a truly volatile concoction that brewed within her.
"Maybe not the most ideal outcome for either party, but for you, it's one that's for the greater good."
"… right? Was that just a wild guess, or…?"
"Wild guess, and using circumstances, both old and new to slap a very vague theory together, one which happened to be correct."
Mikoto shrugged her shoulders; as if to respond to the movements she'd performed, Touma forced his nanorobotic form to relent and release the Railgun from its grip. He attempted to rest his hand upon the Railgun's leg, but she quickly caught the boy's hand and moved it away.
"Uh… n-no. Sorry, not quite comfortable with that sort of thing."
Touma distanced himself from the Railgun by some few inches. He clicked his tongue; he wasn't irritated with Mikoto, hardly. He was irritated with himself. That hadn't been the smartest move he'd ever made.
"Understood, my bad. Moved too fast."
"It's fine, it's not like you tried to grope me or something. Just have to lay down the line, right? Prevent misunderstandings!"
"Right."
"I don't really want to propose anything more, not without Shokuhou," Mikoto remarked, either of her cheeks becoming slightly redder than before. Blood was rushing into her face at a quickened rate as she spoke.
"But I did want to go over it with you, and in p-person. I d-don't think this is the kind of subject that can be discussed over the phone or over text, it's pretty personal."
Touma nodded his head in affirmation. With a chuckle, he rested either of his arms behind his neck, forcibly ensuring that they remained in place and away from the appealing body of Misaka Mikoto.
"Funny thing, I just recently came to an agreement of sorts with Seria, my senpai. Would that change anything with you and Shokuhou?"
Academy City's mightiest electromaster breathed a sigh.
"I think it would. That definitely makes things a bit more complicated… hah. Well, that's alright! Complications are bound to happen when you're dealing with something like this, right? I probably should've seen it. A lot of girls like you after all…"
She wanted to keep the conversation from becoming an awkward sigh-fest. There was a sense of concern within Mikoto, that was certain, but not necessarily disappointment. The much-discussed "agreement" between she and Shokuhou brought her closer than ever before to reaching "that level" with the boy. Besides, Shokuhou would be doing most of the legwork until she could be a reliable partner. Maybe psychotherapy was the avenue to pursue?
Mikoto gave her head a shake as if she had to physically move her head in order to adjust and catalog her thoughts. If being part of a harem, as ludicrous as it sounded, was the only path to finding love with that boy, Kamijou Touma, then a harem she would be a part of. Living polygamously with Shokuhou wouldn't have been all that far off from being part of a harem; it was merely an increase in numbers.
Then again, that too would make for considerably more feelings to consider; but that was alright. She was a reasonable person, most of the time. Absolutely! Mikoto could get along with the likes of the silver-haired nun, and even that purple-haired girl who swung that big spear all over the place.
Misaka Mikoto could hardly believe she'd just thought something of the sort. Only a year prior such a thing would've seemed like a complete impossibility.
"So, T-Touma, what are you and Kumokawa-san up to? Just hanging out? Looks to me like you're waiting for someone."
Kamijou Touma didn't verbally respond. He looked to Mikoto for a moment's time, offering her a pleasant smile, one which the Railgun returned, her cheeks crimson in coloration.
He was so deeply relieved that she was no longer crying. Seeing her like that tore a proverbial hole in him and it reminded the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer of darker times.
There was a decision to make and Touma knew it. He could lie through his teeth and send the Railgun on her way when it'd long been blatantly obvious that she'd wanted to be at his side and help him, or he could let Misaka Mikoto in and welcome that help. He could welcome her into his arms, into his life. He could provide for her what she'd wanted for so long.
He could truly offer Misaka Mikoto the happiness she quested to achieve.
The choice was made, and Kamijou Touma was just about to speak his piece before a series of vocalizations interrupted that process, forcing it to a grinding halt.
"Well, well, well. Look at you Kami-yan! You've got more members of your harem, huh? Biribiri-chan… Kumokawa-san, and it looks like even Karasuma's been afflicted by Kami Disease. You just don't know when to quit, do you? Stealing other people's girls? For shame, Kami-yan! For shame!"