August 2nd, 2007. 3:46 PM.
Academy City, Japan.
As one might've suspected, many 'interesting' events befell the young lovers, on their way to Gekotaland. Their traversing of School District Seven's various highways, side-streets and urban centers was anything but uneventful.
Firstly, while a rhinoceros hadn't fallen out of the sky, a piano, which was, for some reason, being lifted into an apartment's opened balcony doors with the use of a crane had suddenly fallen, downward, having come loose from the hook that'd held it in place. Kamijou Touma had swerved to avoid that, as Misaka Mikoto cussed out those who'd utilized a crane to lift a piano into an apartment in the first place.
Secondly, Touma had suddenly swerved, nearly causing a road accident; someone's puppy had escaped from its owner's grasp, dragging its leash along behind it, as it ran, headlong, into oncoming traffic. Both Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto were beyond relieved that a collision had been avoided, and that, in the end, the puppy had found itself clutched once more in the arms of its seemingly-careless owner.
Thirdly, some ten minutes following the previous incident, with the young lovers nearing their endgame destination, which, strangely enough, sat by itself in an area fit to house an entire strip mall, Aogami Pierce had rushed out in front of their vehicle, fleeing, screaming aloud, as, from within a fashion shop dedicated to high-end female attire, an angry mob of presumably offended or otherwise violated young women chased him down, swatting at him with everything and anything imaginable, from umbrellas, to lamps, to entire nightstands. A familiar face, that of Kongou Mitsuko, clothed in a sundress and running as fast as she possibly could, in her flip-flips, had been among the raging mob.
Finally, Touma's vehicle, commandeered by its owner, pulled into the parking area, both its driver and its sole passenger considerably worse for wear. At least, they were worse off in the present than they were when they'd left his apartment.
"Stupid hand," Touma remarked, as he pushed the vehicle forward, into an available parking space, some good fifty meters away from "Gekotaland' itself. Few others had been available, in fact. "At least it keeps things interesting, right…? Eheh… heh."
"Right," Mikoto muttered. "It's always interesting. I think I saw Kongou-san in that mob, earlier. I think I saw one of your friends, too… what's his name?"
"Aogami, he probably got what he deserved."
Taking a long, deep breath, she shrugged her shoulders, and gently opened the passenger's side door; stepping out, into the open air, Touma soon joined her. Mikoto locked the vehicle down with a wave of her hand, manipulating its mechanical, internal workings with her ability.
"I think I remember you telling me about him before," Mikoto began. In an attempt to steer her boyfriend's thoughts away from his own misfortune, which, if his facial expression, one of concern, was any indication were indeed giving him trouble, she would steer the conversation in another direction. Closing the distance between them, Mikoto snatched Touma's hand up into her own, and looked to him, with a warm, genuine smile. "You have some weird friends. Some weirder than others, I guess everyone in this City is a little strange."
It seemed to be working; Touma produced a chuckle, as the two of them began their jaunt towards the enormous, green, towering structure; at its pinnacle, an enormous, sculpted depiction of Gekota himself loomed forward, his three-fingered hand extended and held upwards, in a jovial wave to those who approached, and to those whose eyes' vision the enormous, half-formed statue caught.
"Remember Fukiyose? You met her a few times," Touma inquired, his vision facing forward. He would, occasionally, look to his girlfriend, as if to acknowledge that he was able to audibly comprehend her response.
"The health girl with the big boobs?"
The bluntness of Mikoto's statement quickly had Touma in hysterics. He stumbled forward, laughter wracking his body and causing his lungs to heave awkwardly, garnering the attention of some, but not all other individuals, almost all of whom were young women, some younger than others. Mikoto, catching her boyfriend's contagious laughter, found herself giggling aloud, as well.
"Yeah, the "healthy girl with the big boobs," Touma confirmed, once he'd managed to speak properly. "She wasn't the weirdest one in my class. I remember when that gloomy weirdo, Kamisato, was around…"
Suddenly rising up, stiff and serious, Touma wore upon his face an expression that was cold and unfeeling; as he and Mikoto, who, unlike others, could see that an attempt at an impersonation was coming to being, walked into Gekotaland proper, through the small lobby, filled on either side with numerous Gekota-themed Gachapon machines, Touma's expression, again, caught some glances.
"If life is so fair, why do roses have thorns? Gr. I'm Kamisato, and I hate everything. I have a heart of darkness beating in my cold chest, and I'm already dead, on the inside. All of you sheeple need to wake up and realize that happiness is a lie."
The joke – for what was what it had been, in effect – had indeed landed, and made its mark, but Mikoto was far too distracted to respond as she felt she should've.
Gekota was everywhere.
The magic of Gekotaland never seemed to die. She could come and go as often as she pleased, she could visit the place over and over again, and it would never become stale. Nothing about Gekotaland would become tired, or worn.
With walling dyed a deep shade of green, and flooring which possessed a checkered pattern, white and dark green, and the same coloration as that possessed by the walls, the concaved ceilings, green, just as the walls and sections of the flooring, housed enormous statues of the frog icon, Gekota, dangling from above, held in place by near-invisible strands of something. It must've been wire, of some variety, obviously possessing increased levels of durability. Some statues depicted Gekota as a master of aviation, clad in a helmet, completed with attached goggles set over his enormous, white eyes, arms spread wide. Others depicted the frog icon as a little green man, seated in a stereotypical flying saucer, his form encased within a bubble of glass, or, perhaps, clear plastic material.
Kamijou Touma was more disturbed by the lack of small children. Gekota was supposed to be, for all intents and purposes, be a children's character. Yet, all around him, there were young women, and even older women, all seeking out Gekota merchandise to fill some sort of need.
He felt like the odd one out. Potentially, he was the only human being in the place that had a penis and testicles. Kamijou Touma felt like a fish out of water, flopping around on a dock at the feet of an unfeeling fisherman.
"We won't stay too long," Mikoto announced, apparently able to pick up on her boyfriend's sense of discomfort. Gently, she guided him, rather than pulling him along behind her. "I just want to find the action fig… THEY HAVE HATS!"
Grinding to a halt, as if she was a lumbering piece of machinery, Mikoto stopped before one isle, in particular, which had an enormous mirror, clearly placed there for those who were trying on accessories to view themselves.
Touma could've groaned, or complained, or otherwise mumbled to himself, but, instead, he allowed himself to smirk, as he witnessed his girlfriend's clear excitement.
From a nearby rack, green in coloration, like just about everything else in Gekotaland, Mikoto swiftly placed a baseball cap atop her head. Her shoulder-length hair swayed, as she twirled on her heel, fitting the cap upon her head carefully.
Dark green, like the skin color of Gekota himself, two enormous, almond-shaped eyes, those of Gekota, were upon the front of the cap, and, upon its bill, was a wide, extended black line, meant to represent the pursed lips of the frog icon's mouth. Touma could only guess.
Mikoto did no guessing. She looked at herself in the mirror, placed either of her hands upon her hips, and tilted her head to one side.
As if was solid, undeniable fact, the Railgun announced: "I must have this."
Removing the cap from her head, Mikoto retrieved a nearby shopping basket, from a stack which held plenty, and tossed the cap in, haphazardly. Retrieving her boyfriend's hand, she guided him onward once again.
"After this, we'll do what you want to do, okay? Promise!"
A grateful Kamijou Touma bowed his head, as if he was addressing an ancient and wise teacher.
"Thanks for thinking 'bout me. This lowly Kamijou-san isn't worthy of your kindness, Biri-Sama."
"D-don't push your luck, dork… someone has to. I'm kidding, I'm kidding! It's only fair that we both enjoy ourselves."
For a few minutes' time, Misaka Mikoto, guiding Kamijou Touma, who, originally having been behind her, had taken to her side, leapt about from isle to isle, in search of her quarry, which she eventually stumbled upon; she swiftly scooped many of the boxed action figures, depicting the frog icon, Gekota, in various vocational positions, and, placing them into her basket, the Railgun swiftly returned to the direction from when she came, both she and her boyfriend moving toward the nearest section containing cashes.
All the while, Kamijou Touma was still disturbed by the overall lack of small children. The feeling of being an outcast lingered, as well.
It was upon reaching one of several sections of cashes that both Mikoto and Touma beheld a familiar face.
Fiddling with a small handbag, which she'd produced from within the depths of her enormous purse, with its tacky, floral patterns, Hozake Junko eventually managed to produce a small card – possibly debit or credit, maybe a gift card – from within the handbag. Swiping it downward, through the small machine designed to process card-based payments, a short, sharp 'beep' followed.
Both Mikoto and Touma observed the proceedings; Junko's various items, all kept obscured within plastic shopping bags, dark green in coloration, like virtually everything else in Gekotaland, outnumbered Mikoto's own chosen items, easily, five to one.
While Touma simply looked around, observing his surroundings, and his fellow shoppers, none of whom were actually among Gekota's intended target audience, Mikoto moved her chosen items from her basket onto the large, green-colored belt, which would move them towards the cashier, to be scanned and paid for.
All the while, she called out to the slim, beautiful young woman she knew well enough, from her days in Tokiwadai Middle School; but she didn't answer. Seemingly, she was completely oblivious.
Hozake Junko's sense of fashion hadn't deteriorated over the years. A sleeveless, flowing blouse adorned her upper body, while a long, ornately-decorated skirt, colored with the tones of autumn adorned her lower body, as firmly-adjusted sandals hugged her ankles, and anchored the pieces of footwear in place. Per usual, her long, platinum blonde hair, styled into two individual spirals of ringlet curls dangled, nearly reaching her waist.
Collecting her bags, as best as she could, given their apparently considerable weight, Junko nodded her head, but not as if she was silently affirming something; she nodded her head repeatedly, in a pattern of individual bobs.
It dawned on Mikoto; Junko was listening to music. She felt like a dolt for not immediately arriving at such an obvious conclusion.
Greeting the female cashier, who politely returned her greeting, Mikoto watched as each of her individual purchases were scanned, one after the other.
"Touma-chan," Mikoto remarked, completely genuinely, much to her boyfriend's surprise, "go catch up to Hozake-san. We should talk together for a few minutes, I miss her!"
A stunned Touma merely nodded his head in affirmation. Words, in the present situation, were beyond him. They weren't going to come. He couldn't force them.
Why had his girlfriend suddenly pulled the 'chan' honorific out of nowhere? To say that Misaka Mikoto was disrespectful to her boyfriend, outside of jesting, would be an outright lie. Yet, she'd never been quite that formal.
"I'll see what I can do. Uh, 'kay, be right back."
"Kay!" Mikoto announced, happily, as she slid her bank card through the same machine which Hozake Junko had utilized to accomplish the same.
What Touma didn't know was that his girlfriend had been struck down, proverbially speaking, by a great and massive wave of nostalgia. It brought a sense of longing, yet, at the same time, it, too, brought a sense of joy, a sense of glee.
They hadn't been the easiest years, but, Misaka Mikoto's days in Tokiwadai had, in some cases, been among her best. Seeing Hozake Junko, in the flesh, was the catalyst for such a remembrance.
Beyond the confines of Mikoto's mind, Kamijou Touma, with the facial expression of a soldier patrolling a minefield, walked as cautiously and as casually toward Hozake Junko, an individual he'd only met on a handful of occasions, as he possibly could.
Kamijou Touma knew what happened when he approached women. His misfortune struck him head-on, cracking across his form like a head-on collision with a locomotive. He might fall face-first into a woman's crotch, or, he might trip on an obstacle, appearing from nowhere, and land face-first into their bosom.
The only bosom he wanted to shove his face into was his girlfriend's.
Stepping forward, hand outstretched, Touma looked below him, to the white and green, tiled flooring beneath either of his trainers. No discarded cans had rolled his way, no wild animals had come to trip him, and then run away, no slippery substances had been spread across the flooring, none which he could see.
He took a deep breath. Touma gathered proverbial resources from his vast storages of courage, and tapped Hozake Junko on the shoulder, with his right hand.
Imagine Breaker, the unworldly power residing within his right hand, did not ring out. Hozake Junko wasn't some crazy magician in disguise. Such was a legitimate concern for Kamijou Touma.
She turned to face the direction, from which the odd sensation had come from, her facial expression one of surprise.
At least, her facial expression was one of surprise, until her platinum-colored eyes locked with Touma's own darkened-toned eyes.
An expression of recognition appeared, first, followed by an expression of familiarity, and then one, seemingly, of happiness.
Pulling one of her earbuds outward, from within her ear, she allowed the white-colored thing to dangle, downward, as if it was some mere bauble.
"Hello, Kamijou-san! It's very good to see you again! Ah! I didn't figure you a fan of Gekota-Sama! Or…"
"I-I'm… not. I mean, Gekota's alright! There's nothing wrong with him, or anything! I'm just not a big fan. I'm just here with my girlfriend, that's all."
Awkwardly, Touma scratched the back of his neck, his since-retrieved right hand tugging at an itch that simply didn't exist. Fidgeting seemed to shrug off the awkwardness. She was an Ojou-Sama, and he was just… well, he was Kamijou Touma. Wasn't he supposed to use fanciful language? The last thing he wanted was for his girlfriend's associates to think of him as some kind of savage.
Junko's eyes suddenly lit up, like she was experiencing some moment of inner grandeur.
"You came shopping with Misaka-san for Gekota products?! You don't even seem all that particularly worked up about it! AH! That is simply ADORABLE! You are simply the cutest couple! I'm going to need a picture, now! Ah!"
As if in search of a sense of familiarity, Touma swung his neck to one side, his head reeling along with it, subsequently. To his relief, Misaka Mikoto was on the way, several plastic shopping bags clutched, tightly, in either of her hands.
Immediately, and, as predicted by Mikoto, her boyfriend quickly offered to take half of the weight. With a shake of her head, and a peck on the cheek as a 'reward', or, more realistically, a silent acknowledgement of her gratitude, she carried on.
"Hozake-san!" Mikoto greeted, a warm and genuine smile forming upon her features, "how surprising to see you here."
"Likewise, Misaka-san," Junko remarked, a giggle escaping from her lips, as she placed her shopping bags down upon a nearby bench. Sitting, carefully and respectfully upon it, the young woman crossed her left leg over her right, elegantly, and looked to the couple before her.
"Before any further words are exchanged, I need a picture of the two of you! You are simply too adorable!"
Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto exchanged glances. The former shrugged, while the latter gently guided the former off to the side, so that they wouldn't find themselves barring anyone's path to the rather large doors, which lead out of Gekotaland, and into the parking area. Placing her arms around her boyfriend's waist, Mikoto drew close, and nuzzled him, placing the side of her face against his chest.
Neither could've known it, but, both were thinking back to an event that'd since passed both of them by. The scene they shared a role in was strikingly familiar, very similar, in a sense, to that silly old 'Penalty Game' the Railgun had thought up. The thought brought a giggle to her lips, from which it escaped.
As soon as Touma's arm found its way around his girlfriend's shoulders, Hozake Junko produced her smartphone, and, aiming the device as if she was a professional photographer, attempting to capture the image of some incredibly rare cryptid roaming the wilds, allowed her thumb to hover mere inches away from the virtual button, which would snap a photo.
"Say… hm… let's let the environment decide our little buzzword. Say "Gekota!"
"GEKOTA!"
"… Gekota?"
SNAP!
Nodding her head, once, seemingly in approval, Hozake Junko pocketed her phone, without bothering to show the couple how their photo had actually come out; apparently, neither Kamijou Touma nor Misaka Mikoto were going to pursue it. Looking to one another, they simply shrugged the moment off, and, with Mikoto snatching her boyfriend's hand into her own, they continued on their way, with the newcomer, Junko, at their side, having collected her bagged purchases.
In an attempt to start a new train of conversation, Mikoto remarked, "So, Hozake-san, how are your studies going? Still looking to get into the same field?"
"Now that you mention it," Junko remarked, beginning her response, as the three left Gekotaland, stepping out into the lobby area, and, then, through another set of Gekota-decorated quadruple doors, into the spacious parking area, "not am I, but, keeping up with archaeological-oriented news sources, there've been some extremely interesting finds, lately, especially in the former Middle-Eastern States."
Mikoto tilted her head to one side, and Touma raised an eyebrow; a physical indication that they were listening, and weren't planning to interrupt. Junko couldn't help but giggle at the sight; they might not have even known it, but they were so very in sync.
Coming to a collective halt, just outside of Gekotaland, Hozake Junko took a seat upon one of the nearby benches, which, if appearances were to be taken into account, were intended to look like Gekota himself had experienced some sort of truly odd transfiguration, and, subsequently, had been stretched, warped, and modelled into the form of a piece of furniture. The backrest itself had a large bust of Gekota's head rising from it.
Touma, in particular was reminded of the strange folks on that imageboard who worshipped that Ancient Egyptian frog god.
From where she'd left off, Junko continued. "Have you ever heard of the giants with six fingers and six toes? They appeared in olden texts, and were a race especially prevalent in Biblical lore."
A chill ran down Kamijou Touma's spine. "Biblical" or anything to do with religion was not anything that he wanted to hear about.
Mikoto knew well enough of this fact, as well; in an attempt to avoid raising attention, she simply tightened her grip upon her boyfriend's hand, as if to say, "I know".
"Not entirely f-familiar, here…" Touma muttered, scratching the back of his head with his available hand; there was no itch present. As a result, his body made one. "They never really taught us anything about religion in school. Never all that important I guess."
"They talked a little bit about world religions in Tokiwadai's curriculum," Mikoto stated, as she turned to face Touma; he could tell that his girlfriend was attempting to keep the guise of feigned ignorance alive and well.
Seemingly, Junko hadn't caught onto the feigned ignorance. If she had, she certainly wasn't showing it, or trying to show it, for that matter.
"Well… I don't think there is a particularly easy way of putting it. An entire graveyard just full of their skeletons, the remains of them, was discovered nearby some odd-looking, enormous ruins in the former state of Iraq. It could effectively change entire historical timelines! The history of the human race could potentially have to be reinvented!"
For someone who was discussing such a monumental undertaking, Hozake Junko certainly seemed to be excited.
"We still need to find links, in order for archaeologists and historians to soundly say that we might've walked beside and among these giants," Junko continued, rocking, subtly, back and forth, excitement pulsing throughout her veins like the stuff of some hard narcotic.
Suddenly, she leaned forward, and extended her right hand's index finger before her. As if she was taking disciplinary measures against a wayward child, Junko wagged her finger at both Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto; the former chuckled, and the latter giggled softly, vocalizations inspired by the silly sight.
"I always did have the feeling that such a thing was true. There were the stories of the soldiers fighting in the State of Iraq shooting one, which was unfortunate, but, it was proof nonetheless. The only real proof, beyond the claims of American soldiers, was claims made by paranormal and pseudoscientific bloggers. But…"
Then, she stopped in her tracks, and, elegantly, crossed her left leg over her right. Taking a deep breath, Junko shrugged either of her shoulders.
"S-sorry, I'm rambling! This is all just very exciting, and I haven't really been able to properly share this information with anyone, in person, yet. You two are obviously lost, and I can't blame you; I sometimes forget that not everyone shares my interests…"
"Don't worry about it! Honestly!" Mikoto remarked, physically producing a hand-wave, "I think it's all fascinating. It's a little bit complicated, because I'm not actively learning about it, but, it's still interesting!"
"It's all a bit over my head," Touma added, "my high school's curriculum kind of just taught the same thing over and over again. It was just an ability development grind. We didn't really have any kind of extracurricular lessons, right."
Though Mikoto was about to respond to her boyfriend's words, potentially kick-starting yet another additional train of conversation, Junko quickly produced her phone once more. Unlocking it, and tapping at its screen a few times, she proceeded to shove the device, outward, toward the young couple.
"Misaka-san, speaking of more easily understood subjects, as an update from our last textual conversation… the auction for the Prototype Metallic Gekota-Sama is still up on Qoozle Auctions. It's… also… still over ¥822000. If only I had that much money to spare."
Witnessing his girlfriend's eyes light up, Touma couldn't help but place either of his arms around her shoulders, and pull her, inward, close to his form, a chuckle of familiarity escaping from between his lips. With a swift peck on the cheek, one of acknowledgement, Mikoto turned her attention to the device thrust outward by Hozake Junko.
"It's still on there?! AUGH! Why is it SO expensive?! How did they even get that prototype?! So many questions! You would think that JoyToy, or whatever their name is, would keep their stock better protected… then again… if they did, we'd never even know that the Prototype Metallic Gekota-Sama even existed. Bittersweet."
Junko, obscuring either of her eyes beneath her eyelids, nodded her head in silent agreement.
"I hope Prototype Metallic Gekota-Sama finds a good home, preferably with a collector who understands its rarity, and treats it with the respect and care it deserves. But, I suppose I've taken up enough of your time!"
Rising from her seat, Junko bowed politely.
"Until next time, farewell, Misaka-san, Kamijou-san, please don't stop being the cutest couple in all of Academy City~! I have quite the bicycle ride ahead of me…"
After the couple offered their farewells to Mikoto's old companion, a living relic of her days as a student in Tokiwadai Middle School, the Railgun looked to her boyfriend, still finding herself in his embrace. If he wasn't about to let go, she wasn't about to protest or attempt to free herself.
On the contrary, Mikoto could've stayed like that forever. The sense of relaxation and safety, the feeling that, proverbially speaking, beneath her, there was a figurative safety net, it simply couldn't be beaten or ousted by any other sensation.
"Thanks for coming and shopping with me. I had a really fun time with you; I think it's only fair that we go somewhere that you want to go, now. Anywhere, just say the name, and we'll get there, 'kay?"
The Railgun had predicted what her boyfriend was going to say, before he'd even said it.
"Just Press Play!" is what I'm after."
"Now, that's what I call a surprise."