August 2nd, 2007. 9:30 AM.
Academy City, Japan.
It was the ticking of the biological clock that'd roused Kamijou Touma, rather than any sort of alarm from beyond the confines of his mind. His body simply seemed to know when it was supposed to rouse itself; when he'd think about it the whole process too deeply, it became a thought which brought discomfort.
Things just happened inside of him, without his direct command. He had very little control over such things. It was concerning.
Regardless of such matters, Touma shrugged the sudden affliction of discomfort off, as best as he possibly could given the fact that his mind was barely even awake. He stretched himself; easily, his form, having some time ago experienced a rather impressive growth spurt extended from one end of the couch to the other. While one arm remained around his girlfriend, embracing her and continuing to hold her form close to his own, his other found itself rising, high, and stretching outward, forming something of an arc.
For a few moments, he laid there, feeling the softness of the leather beneath him, and the even softer, silky skin of Misaka Mikoto beneath his fingers. Peacefully, she snored softly, her arms thrown loosely around his waist, her face buried deeply into the center of his chest; just how she was even breathing at all, Touma couldn't even begin to try and guess, but, she was pulling it off, somehow. Maybe she was 'drawing' air in from around here. Maybe, subconsciously, her ability had something to do with it.
He took a moment to observe his surroundings, Mikoto's soft snores like music to his ears.
It was the same living room, as it always was. That figured well enough.
Then again, he wouldn't have been surprised at all, if some nasty, ill-minded gremlin came in the middle of the night, seeking to invade his home just to cause trouble. Such a home invasion wouldn't have been the strangest thing Kamijou Touma experienced.
The television, resting atop its simple metallic stand wasn't too far away at all, against the wall across from that which the couch was pressed against, closest to the glass doors, which lead outward, onto the apartment's balcony. In terms of furniture, there were a few other pieces to be found; a simple stand, situated in the intersection in which two corners met, holding a collection of books, old light novels neither Touma or Mikoto had ever gotten around to actually reading, manga, which had suffered the same fate as his small collection of light novels, and numerous DVDs. Aside from the various pictures of the two, from various points in their life, which were framed, and hung upon the walls of the room, above the low, arcing doorway, offering passage into the apartment's kitchen area, was a large emblem depicting the smiling, jovial face of Gekota.
Looking into the enormous, mostly-blackened eyes of the frog mascot, Touma felt inclined to look downward, toward the form of his slumbering girlfriend.
He still remembered when she'd bought it at that festival, last year, insisting that he keep it, with that big, crimson blush on her face. Typical Mikoto. It wasn't something he was about to up and forget about.
Brushing a section of her chestnut brown bangs away from her forehead, and out, from in front of her eyes, Touma looked to the direction of her non-obscured eyes, which, in a manner of speaking, remained obstructed, at least by her closed eyelids. Small traces of her eyeliner were still visible, though, a good portion of her eyeliner, in fact, had found its way onto her boyfriend's shirt.
He didn't mind in the slightest. It was a material thing and it could be washed out, whenever.
The more time he spent gazing down at her, the more Touma found himself falling for her, more and more.
Aside from the casual, baggy tank top which she'd clothed the top portion of her body in, she'd garbed her lower body in a simple pair of cotton shorts, their cuffs rolled up, slightly, exposing at least half of either of her legs' thighs. She was beautiful, on all levels, in all ways. She had her quirks, and her flaws, sure, but who didn't? Kamijou Touma, himself, would've needed dozens of hands to count off his own flaws with his fingers, and he'd become more than aware of such things.
Before he thought about anything further, Touma moved downward, slightly, and allowed his lips to connect with the side of Mikoto's neck; gently, and with precision, in an attempt to prevent the creation of unsightly marks, he ensured that only the tips of his lips found their mark.
Her embrace tightened. Mikoto produced a soft, almost guttural groan, as she forced herself forward, her lower form grinding against that of her boyfriend.
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and they locked with Touma's own. He was a welcome sight, as she left the dreamless realm of slumber.
"G'morning," Touma remarked, rather groggily.
"M-morning. You s-should keep doing that, feels good, man."
"Man"? What am I, one of your football buddies, now?"
"Shuddup and kiss me. Dork."
Kamijou Touma chuckled, and Misaka Mikoto giggled aloud; despite her command for her boyfriend to 'shuddup', there was no malice present, not even a smidgen, in their exchange.
Doing as he was told Touma worked to perform a part of the morning ritual that, at some point, had become less awkward and much more something that was akin to brushing one's teeth, or splashing water upon one's face, in order to shrug off the desire to crawl back into bed.
At the very least, it was a ritual the two could practice on weekends, the woefully short span of time when both parties were available to one another.
Kissing upon his girlfriend's neck, Mikoto's legs found themselves wrapping around Touma's waist, holding him in place, putting him into something akin to a chokehold. There was no escape for him; she grinned, both because her boyfriend's moist, full lips were tickling the soft, exposed and tender flesh of her neck, and because she knew he wasn't going to escape her grasp.
The sounds of Touma's lips smacking against the side of her neck drove her wild. So close to him, with his form rubbing against her own, unintentionally and unconsciously rocking back and forth, as he worked his lips, and, soon enough, his tongue as well, Mikoto could feel his manhood. It was rock hard, enormous, terribly large, and incredibly girthy; it was, as if, instead of a fleshy reproductive organ, her boyfriend had been secretly storing a python in his pants.
The idea of crying out for him to push it all the way inside of her vulva's inner, tubular workings hadn't crossed her mind for the first time, in the heat of pleasure.
Hardly.
Misaka Mikoto had craved for it for a while, in fact. A wild, savage part of her wanted nothing more than for her boyfriend to fuck her until her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Mikoto tried to send such thoughts to the wayside. She failed in her attempts.
She used her hands before, her mouth before, even her feet before – her boyfriend, as it turned out, was quite the deviant – in order to provoke the endgame climax, but, never before had it been there.
Then, Mikoto succeeded. The Railgun's mind drifted back to reality. Kamijou Touma was pawing at her, either of his hands having fallen to her hips.
This, to him, was the perfect way to start a day. It was unfortunate that more of their days together couldn't begin – and end – in such a way.
His girlfriend's moaning, her desperate-sounding cries, which were more akin to demands, on a verbal level, for him to continue with his work resulted in Touma's entire body shuddering about, of its own accord.
Kamijou Touma could almost feel the various chemicals that caused him to feel that way that he felt surging throughout him, pumping him full of further desire, and further energy to continue on with his quest, of sorts.
Just how far would this encounter go? It was a thought he was made to consider. He didn't have a solid answer, but, he didn't need one, not there, not then. Perhaps he would simply go with the flow, and see where things went, until a point. Teenage fatherhood was not something Kamijou Touma sought. He would leave that to those who were responsible, undoubtedly, for contributing to Academy City's "Child Error" population.
"You like that?"
"U-uh huh, d-don't stop, not yet. I want you bad Touma, I want you really bad…"
Then, of its own accord, as if the oncoming vocalization, born of desire and born of instinct had taken on a life of its own, it slipped out.
"You can put it in…"
It was after some few seconds, in which the two stared at one another, that Mikoto suddenly shook her head from side to side, as if she was suddenly experiencing a wild seizure. Her eyes, with their eyelids closed shut, and the enormous, scarlet blush that'd formed on her face suggested she was altogether alright.
"I-I… I-I-I… I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! IT JUST CAME OUT! I-I… I-I'M NOT READY! SORRY! NO CAN DO! I LOVE YOU! BUT SORRY! CAN'T DO IT! YOU SHALL NOT PASS! UNDER CONSTRUCTION!"
Touma silenced Mikoto with a kiss to her lips, one which brought great comfort washing over her, and allowed her to settle down, slightly. Through her nostrils, she exhaled.
Once he broke the kiss, though allowing their mutual embrace to remain, Touma spoke in response.
"I'm not either. We don't have to be, it's no rush, 'kay?"
"… kay. Thanks. You're pretty cool sometimes."
"Yeah, you're not all that bad, either... biribiri."
"Don't push your luck."
For a fair period of time, Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto lingered in one another's arms, enjoying one another's presence. Such went on for the span of a few hours, in fact, and both she and he drifted in and out of consciousness more than once.
Then, somewhere – Touma couldn't point out the exact location – there was a sudden ringing. Coming in quick bursts, it was methodic, repeated, predictable in the number of times it would ring, cease, for a moment, and then begin anew.
Mikoto, however, had no such trouble. She merely reached out, her sixth electromaster 'sense' allowing her to visualize the location of the ringing device, even when it wasn't directly in front of her.
As it turned out, the device was sitting snuggly in the rightmost pocket of her boyfriend's pants.
Reaching downward, she plucked the device out, making sure to 'accidentally' brush her hand against her partner's junk, in the process, and handed it off to its owner, with a knowing wink and a nod.
"Very kind of you."
"I try; now try answering it, the ringing is getting on my nerves."
"As if that takes a lot."
"S-Shuddup."
Placing a swift, loving peck to Mikoto's forehead, Touma placed the touchscreen device to his ear, with his available hand – that which remained unavailable, continued to return his girlfriend's perpetually-tightening embrace – after swiping to tell the phone he, indeed, wished to answer the incoming call.
The vocalization, produced from the other end of the call, nearly shattered his right ear's tympanic membrane. The phone's volume, still, was set to maximum.
"S-such misfortune."
"Touma-san! Hello! I hope it's not too early in the morning. I know you work yourself far too hard for your own good."
"N-no, mom, we were already awake," Touma remarked; though the vocalization, indeed, came out sounding as if he was groggy, the cause, more realistically, was due to the fact that his right ear's tympanic membrane was vibrating violently.
"Oh? "We"? Is Mikoto-chan visiting, then? I do hope I didn't interrupt anything. Make sure to use…"
"MOM. STOP It's nothing like that."
Having heard the remark, Misaka Mikoto awkwardly sunk, low, and hid her suddenly-crimson face, by forcing it forward and into her boyfriend's shirt.
Kamijou Shiina, on the other end of the call, produced a soft, genuine giggle.
"I know, Touma-san. I was merely jesting. Sometimes, it's far too easy to get you going… but I didn't call you so that I merely could push your buttons. Your father and I…"
Kamijou Touya's vocalization could suddenly be heard, from somewhere in the background.
"Hello, Touma. Like your mother said, try to keep it in your…"
"DAD."
Though the married couple shared a heart chuckle at their son's expanse, the latter party eventually joining in the 'festivities', albeit reluctantly, relative seriousness soon returned.
"Your father and I miss you, and we'd like to see Mikoto-chan again, too. Otohime-san misses the both of you, as well."
Mikoto herself seemed to perk up, upon hearing this statement. Why, exactly, Touma had neglected to turn down the volume of his phone was beyond her. Long ago, she'd stopped questioning those among the less important of his strange ways. If it was going to be so, it was going to be so.
In truth, it was because Kamijou Touma felt he had little to hide from his romantic partner, his best friend, and his partner in 'crime'.
"I could call in a favor to get some time off," Mikoto remarked, even as something deep within her told her that wouldn't be the responsible thing to do. "A… uh, friend of mine, could help with that, no worries at all."
"Of course, I'D be the one owing, then, and… I'd rather not be in debt to that damn Shokuhou, but… vacation with boyfriend. Being in debt to that damn Shokuhou? Or vacation with boyfriend…? Alright, Shokuhou! Bring it on!"
Though Touma had no concept of just who his girlfriend was talking about, he wasn't about to question it. If someone was willing to help out, then, by all means, they were a friend of his, too.
With a giggle, Kamijou Shiina remarked, "the gesture is a sweet one, Mikoto-chan, but it won't be entirely necessary. The best my husband can do is a week's vacation, himself! The workforce is so very unfeeling…"
"You can say that again," Touma lamented.
Still, he was forced to admit, within his passing thoughts, that actually being paid to perform acts of menial labor in a lightless foundry was far more rewarding than running about, punching magicians, trying to negotiate with Magic Gods, or fighting in the midst of World Wars, all without any sort of monetary compensation.
In the foundry, at least, his greatest opponent was a hardware crash that halted the progression of assembly lines, or a machine that would suddenly go out of control, and cause all sorts of havoc about the assembly and production lines.
The thought made him wonder how Stiyl, Kaori, and Index were doing, together; the thought sprouting from that, the reality that Index was out there, free, doing what she wanted to do, without the fear of being hunted down, tracked, like an animal brought a smirk to his face. Even if she wasn't with him any longer, she was happy. To him, that was all that mattered.
His train of thought, however, was derailed, as his girlfriend looked up to him, big, glossy eyes locked with his own. She looked like a sad little puppy.
"Let's do it, man. If it's only a week, that'll still give us plenty of summer vacation, and I won't have to ask that damn Shoku— I MEAN MY FRIEND… for any favors. Think you can get some time off? Huh? Can you? Can you?"
Though Touma initially found himself curious, regarding just why his girlfriend had suddenly backpedalled on part of her inquiry, it was something he, in turn, could inquire about later. In truth, it wasn't particularly pressing, as far as matters went.
"I've got two weeks' vacation time I've been holding onto, now that you mention it," Touma stated; a grin tugged at the edges of his lips.
Though he couldn't see it, on the other end of the line, Kamijou Shiina nodded her head, as if in affirmation.
"Lovely, Touma-san, Mikoto-chan. Touma-san, your father and I can meet you and Mikoto-chan at the border. For us, tomorrow would work well enough."
Well aware that his girlfriend could hear the goings-on of the conversation, Touma looked down to her, as he placed a loving peck atop her forehead, seeking her agreement; she swiftly provided, with an enthusiastic nod of her head.
It was settled, then.
As quickly as it had come, the conversation soon came to a close, with arrangements set in place. The parties involved said their goodbyes, before the line was closed, the call dropped to the wayside.
It certainly hadn't been the outcome he'd been expecting, and it certainly wasn't a development he could've anticipated; such was life. Touma was merely a fallen leaf, dancing about within the flows of life's mighty stream.
"Excited, "Mikoto-chan?"
"D-don't start with that, now, you dork. Of course I'm excited! Come ON, let's get up, get ready, and make the day go by fast! FULL SPEED AHEAD! WOOOOO!"
And, so, the two set off, going about their respective businesses; within the apartment's small, if cozy and nicely-decorated bathroom, Mikoto took the shower, while Touma took to utilizing the sink, and the mirror above it, in order to make his mouth smell less like something that'd been pried from a tin of preserved fish filet.
Then, they switched up; their sense of balance, and their ability to coexist with one another was a sight to behold, indeed.
Sooner than later, both parties had finished their respective rituals, at least those that had involved the use of the bathroom.
Then came the matter of getting changed into something that wasn't their pajamas, which, in and of itself, wasn't any sort of great deal.
In fact, Touma had already caught one of many glimpses of his girlfriend's unclothed form, and vice versa.
He didn't gulp, or shy away, or flee, or attempt to cover his face at the sight; if anything, he thought it was a beautiful, natural sight, something that was to be seen only by the eyes of two, in such a scenario; she who possessed the body, and the body's sole outside beholder. Such were the thoughts that passed through his mind, as the warm water crashed down upon his back.
No words were exchanged between the two. There wasn't a need for words. Both Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto were more than content to dwell within their own respective minds, for some few minutes.
Of course, Mikoto, too, had witnessed her boyfriend's trim, fit form, as well.
To that point, she witnessed it again, as he emerged from the shower, pushing the curtain, with its floral patterns to the side, as he turned the flow of the water off. She, too, had considered such things, as she'd been erasing, with the aid of her own toothbrush, kept in a small, clear plastic baggie, her own 'morning breath'.
Carefully, with near-excessive caution paid to his footing, Touma exited the shower. He slipped, fell forward, and was only just caught in Mikoto's arms; she'd long ago become accustomed to saving her boyfriend's hide.
Mikoto's eyes, ironically enough, like two pieces of magnetisable metal pulled toward a magnet, swerved to the left inside of their sockets. Observing, a slight, crimson blush formed upon her features.
He was no muscleman; he wasn't even someone who could be considered muscular. His weight was proportionate to his height, which, approximately, lingered somewhere just above six feet.
Regardless, Mikoto had to beat back the urge to leap upon him, and force his manhood inside of her; not only would such a thing cause her great pain, more than likely, but, such a thing just wasn't responsible, not without plenty of mutual discussion.
Swallowing, hard, the Railgun finished up with her morning rituals, after saving her lover from cracking his skull open, and worked on clothing herself, Touma joining her soon after.
She noted that, per usual, he went into his own bedroom after she'd gotten herself changed. His sense of concern for what he more than likely assumed to be her feelings warmed her heart, and she wasn't afraid to show it.
Approaching the couch in the living room, upon which they'd awoken, Mikoto leaned in and, lowering herself, slightly, so that her line of vision was equal with Touma's own.
Then, for lack of a better descriptor, she smooched him, smacking her lips against his own.
"Thanks," Touma remarked, sarcastically, between the breaths he was permitted to take. Rather than offering a verbal reply, Mikoto simply shook her head, in a show of disapproval.
She'd only intended to kiss him once, yet, her body wanted more. Her body's needs seemed to come before her own brain's desire to begin her day, proper.
Then, before she could allow herself to fall further into her primal desires, she broke the smooch-fest, and, tugging at the bottom of her beige, short-sleeved shirt. Her fingers brushed gently against her denim shorts, their cuffs rolled upward, slightly.
"R-room's all yours, I'm all done," Mikoto stated, attempting to appear as anything other than a flustered mess of sexual frustration and adoration.
Touma observed Mikoto. He raised his hand to his chin, and, studying her features, he looked her up and down, from the top of her head, to the toes of her bare feet, as if he was an artist, looking over the finished result of his life's long work.
"You look great," Touma remarked, nodding his head, apparently pleased with what he saw. "I'll try to get myself into something half as good."
She stood there, with a blush upon her features.
"T-thanks, b-but you probably have a better fashion sense than me. It's all about comfort, I just throw on whatever feels nice, you know?"
Rising from his perch, Touma patted his girlfriend, gently, upon her head, as he passed her by, on his way to his apartment's sole bedroom.
"Who doesn't, right? It's not like you're going to dress up as a maid for me, or anything, no?"
Was he trying to get her going?
"YOU… you could just ask… you know."
"I know. Maybe I will, huh?"
With a wink, Touma's form became lost within the shadows of his bedroom, its window's blind drawn, lowered, blocking out all sunlight from entering the room; though his presence was made clear by the sounds of the closet opening, closing, and then opening again, soon replaced by the sounds of the dresser's drawers doing the same.
All the while, Misaka Mikoto was left, there, in the living room, blushing, as she considered what her boyfriend's facial expression might've become if she suddenly approached him dressed up as a stereotypically 'sexy' maid. Would his face have shown a sense of shock? Awe? Happiness? Maybe a mess of all three, at once? Was her body good enough? Was her bosom expansive enough? It'd grown since she'd begun to experience the effects of puberty, yet, they weren't quite 'great'.
Then again, she didn't want balloons, like those belonging to that damn Shokuhou, dangling from her chest. At least she could run down a block without having a cardiac arrest.
Soon enough, Touma emerged from the shadows, no longer clad in his nightwear; instead, he'd garbed himself in a simple, short-sleeved top, a mix of white with darkened sleeves, and light, extensive khakis.
Wasn't it a bit warm for khakis? Mikoto could only wonder.
"So," he began, stretching his arms upwards as he closed the distance between himself and Mikoto, "any idea of what you want to get up to?"
"Gekotaland," Mikoto instantly remarked, and Touma resisted the overwhelming urge to groan. "They have exclusive action figures there, and I NEED them, Touma. They're… they're perfect. Gekota is…"
"Gekota is love, Gekota is life," Touma finished Mikoto's sentence for her, as he swiftly snatched her hand into his own. "Gekotaland it is, then."
"L-love you! Lots!"
"Love you too. That's the only reason I'd ever go in there."
"At least you're honest about it. Don't worry; we can go to other places, too! We'll go to Just Press Play! and tool around in there, if you're feeling up to it!"
That sounded fair enough to Touma; he could certainly compromise. Per usual, it seemed that his girlfriend was willing to do just that. It was a blessing that she cared, at all. There were plenty of less sensible young women who would've simply expected.
"I think that sounds fair," Touma remarked, in all seriousness, genuinely speaking his mind.
Mikoto nodded, as the two soon found themselves leaving Touma's apartment behind them, having slipped into their respective pieces of footwear. Stepping outward, he'd opened the door for her, allowing her to step out before he did, then closing shut the door behind him. Misaka Mikoto, with a wave of her hand, sent a jolt of electricity outward, and automatically engaged the door's auto-lock feature, like manipulating electronics was the simplest thing in the world. To the Railgun, at least, it was.
Passing through the halls, the two, swiftly enough took the elevator downward, into the subsections beneath the apartment complex, where residents parked their vehicles.
Touma's, too, was down there. This was not something he was particularly excited about.
Some few minutes later, he'd found himself buckled and seated in the driver's side seat of the simple, black-colored vehicle, his girlfriend beside him, buckled in as well, her right hand placed upon her lap, her left placed upon her boyfriend's thigh.
The vehicle, a four-door, was marred with numerous dents, scratches, and bird droppings plastered upon its surfaces. Apparently, just for him, birds entered the apartment complex's underground parking area.
"Well… here we go. Knowing my luck, a rhinoceros will fall out of the sky, and charge us… so… uh… I think the airbags are working. Such misfortune…"
As a show of support, and as an act of comfort, Mikoto pecked her boyfriend upon his cheek.
"Whenever you're ready, start the car, everything's going to be fine. I'll just… chill, I guess, 'til you get around to that. You can do it, Touma. You're bigger than your bad luck is."
Armed with motivation, Kamijou Touma took a long, deep breath.
Then, he commanded his marred, damaged vehicle, through the manipulation of the required pedals, to begin moving forward.
He'd managed that much. His brow drawn, eyes filled to the brim with his very spirit's sense of determination, he looked ahead, observing all things before him.
A not-so-queer, passing thought came by, then, paying a brief visit to the confines of his mind, before quickly moving on its way, returning to wherever it had come from.
"I wonder what horrible things are going to happen to us, on the way there."