Quick thing: thanks, Kapellan23, for following and favoriting! It's great to have you aboard!
Review time is upon us yet again! Let's get right into things, huh?
Whwsms: Othinus' feelings aren't quite that simple, as you'll sooner than later find out.
I wonder, huh? Wouldn't that be embarrassing?
Tsundere Accelerator is love, tsundere Accelerator is life.
Hahaha! I really like the idea of that. Shiina having "Kamijou Senses" that tingle whenever the mating ritual of Kami-yan takes place is entertaining to me.
I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. Funny that you mention Terminator, considering that, in another time, and in another world, there are robots running rampant in and generally messing up another Academy City.
I'm glad to hear that I'm consistently able to gain your approval, friend! I hope to be able to continue to do so in the future.
321jaz: Ah, thank you for the compliment, friend! As always, I really, really appreciate it. My schedule tends to fluctuate, but, for now I'm able to get a chapter of either piece published fairly quickly. I think it's pretty cool, too. I really enjoy writing this piece and A Certain Strange Scenario.
You aren't; in another time, a similar scene played out between a certain "top dog" and a certain clone of Misaka Mikoto. I'm glad you enjoyed reading the scene as much as I enjoyed writing it!
PRANK's newest scheme will soon unfold before you; I highly doubt it would've had the chance to do so if our pyrokinesist had decided to stay the night at the Accelerator residence.
That wasn't the last you're going to see of Mikoto and Gunha, or their sparring match… I hope you enjoy reading its conclusion as much as I enjoyed writing it.
They're quite the family. Each might be different from everyone around them in their own ways, but, in the end, I believe that's what brings them so close together. I'm glad you enjoyed reading Touma and Misaki's scene as much as I enjoyed writing it.
That's not an easy question to answer, but I can say for almost one hundred percent, that you'll have an answer.
That you will; history tends to repeat itself, after all.
I hope you enjoyed chapter twenty-two of A Certain Strange Scenario, and I hope you'll enjoy chapter six of Times Change!
Anon Guest: no worries, these things happen. I'll respond to both parts of your review as a whole. It's entirely possible that Touma's once-admirers helped Misaki along the way in regards to her physical training, just as Touma did; whether or not that's truly the case has yet to be seen.
"Full-on soap opera mode" is something that has to wait until the time is right, for the best possible outcome. Rest assured, it'll come to be.
The Delta Force's remaining two members collectively wiped singular tears from their respective eyes as they saluted.
Geust's Account: I'm glad you enjoyed reading Touma and Misaki's scene as much as I enjoyed writing it, as well as the scene with Accelerator and his "brats'!" I'm looking forward to the introduction of the Hamazuras as much as you are, friend. It's going to arrive sooner than later, this I promise.
Kumokawa Seria's not someone I can talk about here; when the time is right, just as it was in another time, all will be revealed.
DarkBetrayer: Worst's too entertaining of a character to simply use as 'mere' comic relief, if you ask me, as is Last Order, especially since both sisters have grown and changed as their bodies and minds have matured. There's a lot to explore with Worst and Last Order.
Othi-chan has a way with words.
Indeed! Night terrors generally are a side character thing, but, as Touma's misfortune goes, anything's possible. You could say there are… Infinite Possibilities…
Sorry.
In another time, Kamijou Touma's going to have to learn that lesson. Here? I can't say for certain.
Will Othi-chan defeat the mortals? Will she become the number one ranked player on the Bloody Fist world leaderboard? Probably not, but Othi-chan always has her dreams.
The Extraordinary Guts Man threw his fists; each crashed against the Railgun's currents of electricity. As he beat them back, he took the few seconds of breathing time he had to knock away twin, continually jabbing lances, born of lightning, by slamming his forehead against them.
"Why not unleash your full potential, Misaka?! Show me how you've improved your signature ability!" The Extraordinary Guts Man challenged, a finger pointed in Misaka Mikoto's direction.
"This is karma for all the times I chased that Idi… Touma, around when we were kids, isn't it?" Mikoto grumbled as she shook her head. "The last time I used my Railgun on you, you just… ate it."
"Improve, Misaka! IMPROVE! Adjust your technique so that I can't eat your blasts, and add them to my stockpile of guts!" The Extraordinary Guts Man demanded, as he folded his arms, and cracked his neck, forcing it to one side, and then to the other.
Misaka Mikoto, the Railgun, the third strongest esper in all of Academy City, focused solely on her sparring partner. Her brow furrowed, and she scrunched her nose. Mikoto unconsciously ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she concentrated. Mikoto could hear the lightning emerging from her form, crackling, completely under her command. Mikoto could see it, and feel it surround her.
With a grin, Misaka Mikoto raised her leg upwards, and then stomped the earth. An electric tide, four point five billion volts worth of bright blue electricity made physical rushed from Mikoto's upper body. It easily covered fifty meters of space before it began to twist and contort. It began to retract into a singular 'pillar' as Mikoto's waving hands guided it, and, with pinpoint accuracy, it surged towards the smiling, confident-looking Extraordinary Guts Man.
In a series of motions far too quick for Mikoto's mind to comprehend, the Extraordinary Guts Man stomped his right foot, and, with his eyes closed, entered an odd, almost intimidating-looking stance. As his eyes shot open with a swift exhalation of oxygen converted to carbon dioxide, he threw his right fist forward.
"SUPER EXTRAORDINARY PUNCH!"
Mikoto wasn't able to see the exact outcome; she had closed her eyes just after her mind had registered a series of blindingly bright explosions that had combined with her own all-out assault. The Railgun had assumed that, if she had left her eyes open, she would've likely been blinded.
Before her, breathing ever so slightly heavier than he normally would've been, with a wide, toothy grin on his face, stood the Extraordinary Guts Man. He tossed his head back, and laughed heartily.
"What did I tell you?! Improvement! Glaringly obvious improvement! That was your gutsiest strike on me yet!" The Extraordinary Guts Man exclaimed, as he nodded his head in satisfaction.
Mikoto giggled softly, a blush evident on her cheeks. Suddenly, she spun on her heel, and allowed herself to fall back onto the grass, which, around and near her form, hadn't been charred as the grass around the Extraordinary Guts Man had been.
"Tired already?! You've got five minutes, Misaka, and then it's back in the ring!" The Extraordinary Guts Man proclaimed, slapping the top of his right hand against the palm of his left.
"You've got it, coach," Mikoto scoffed as she spread her arms out, letting the soft, gentle blades of grass run their fine tips against her mostly bare arms.
Mikoto lifted her neck upwards, and raised an eyebrow at the perpetually staring Extraordinary Guts Man.
"Why don't you come over here and sit with me, instead of just… glaring at me? I'd like to talk to Sogiita-san, please and thank you!" Mikoto commented, before the strain on her neck became too much. Letting her head fall back to the grass, Mikoto blinked, and looked up at the sky above her. It momentarily disorientated her, and she almost felt as if she'd be sucked up into the sky against her own will. Mikoto shook her head, and the strange, fuzzy feeling that had formed in the bottom of her stomach away.
The Extraordinary Guts Man's facial expression softened, as the alter ego faded. Sogiita Gunha took over the reigns of his body once again, and, with a laugh, he leapt to the Railgun's side. Gunha pushed his cape away from his posterior, and then plopped down on the grass with a soft thud.
"So? Are we finished, or do you have any more guts left in you, Misaka?" Gunha inquired, as he looked down at the Railgun, who had folded her arms behind her head.
"Given that we were at it all morning, I think I'm all out of guts, at least for the time being, Sogiita-san," Mikoto replied.
Gunha flashed Mikoto an expression of shock and disgust. "Out of guts?! Impossible! Guts are an infinite, constantly regenerating resource, Misaka! You can't run out of guts!"
Mikoto shook head from side to side, "maybe for you, Sogiita-san, but the rest of us run out of guts eventually." Before Gunha had the chance to respond, the Railgun sat up, and, supporting her upper body with her arms, hands planted against the grass behind her, she smiled at him. "By the way, Sogiita-san, I wanted to say thanks, again, for helping me keep up my A game."
Gunha looked on, bewildered. "You don't have to thank me, Misaka! The pleasure's all mine; helping people is what I do, especially when it comes to guts! Guts are important! Without guts, a man, or in your case, a woman is… incomplete! Everyone needs guts, and, since I find myself in a position where I can help people find their guts, there's no reason not to!"
"You and your guts, I swear," Mikoto mumbled. After the third and seventh strongest espers in Academy City had sat, surrounded by the sounds of a comfortable silence for a few minutes, some type of bug landed on Mikoto's jeans. It was small, only three or four inches in length, and was mostly white. Gunha noticed the insect, and examined it. The insect vaguely resembled a beetle; it had tiny, translucent compound eyes on either side of its head. As its wings folded into its shell, its six long, spiny legs clicked about. It looked to Sogiita Gunha, who raised an eyebrow at it, and then to Mikoto, who didn't seem to see it.
Gunha tapped Mikoto on the shoulder, which gained her attention. He then pointed to her leg. "Hey, Misaka, there's a… a weird bug on you. I've never actually seen anything like that before. I wonder if it has guts?!"
Mikoto looked down at it, and sighed in aggravation.
"I have, Sogiita-san…"
Mikoto picked the bug up between the index finger and thumb of her right hand, and raised it up to her line of sight. The insect didn't panic, nor did it even move. Its compound eyes simply stared back at the Railgun.
"We're sparring, you overprotective mother hen! Don't you have better things to do than spy on people? Honestly… I mean, I guess the thought is a kind one… but would Sogiita-san really hurt anyone? Come on, be real." Mikoto proceeded to flick the insect away; its wings emerged from its shell, and it took flight, leaving the third and seventh ranked behind to pursue some unknown goal.
"What was…"
"Kakine-san," Misaka Mikoto huffed, as she folded her arms, and tossed her head to the side.
Misaka Worst, accompanied by her ever-loyal minion Yamashita Junichi, had sat themselves on a cold, metallic, but thankfully, for the sake of their scheme, vacant bench a few meters from the entrance to school district seven's underground shopping center. Shielded from the elements by a tall, wide shelter built from extremely durable plastic, and weather-resistant metal produced only in Academy City, the entrance was more of a hole that opened in the street, which revealed a set of wide metallic and brick steps. The entrance to the mall was particularly crowded, as herds of excited shoppers flooded in and out from the subterranean temple dedicated to consumerism.
"Can you feel anything around here, Worst? Backup generators, non-backup generators?" Junichi whispered. He stared down at his phone, which was locked, though he tapped his fingers against the screen to emulate the act of forming a text message.
"Misaka is receiving information about all sorts of interesting things, minion, but no generators. Misaka thinks they might be elsewhere, maybe in district twenty-two? Misaka knows they keep all sorts of dirty secrets underground there," Worst responded. She had a slightly frustrated look on her face.
Junichi wracked his brain, looking for some way he could make he and his "boss'" plan come to fruition – numerous ideas passed through the pyrokinesist's mind, but none of them seemed to be "the one". At one point during his on-the-fly brainstorming session, the pyrokinesist contemplated simply starting a fire, but he quickly scrapped the idea, internally citing the many ramifications of such an act.
"Misaka's got something, minion! Don't fret!" Worst hissed, struggling to keep her voice down in her excitement. "Misaka will find a place to hide, and then just let her ability go wild, the way Misaka's going to go wild on tou-san. Misaka assumes that if she discharges enough electricity, the mall's guts, that is, the wires and sensitive electronics inside of the walls, will get fried! The mall will lose power for a while, maybe a few days at most, but Misaka knows that'll work."
Though Yamashita Junichi had kept at least part of his mind focused on Worst's explanation, another part, the nefariously male part of his mind, had found a new source of entertainment. Walking past him was what appeared to be an elegant, if aggressive-looking beauty. Junichi's hungry eyes looked her up and down; she was tall, and looked to owe most of her height to her long, slender legs. Long, fluffy black hair, the tips of which had been dyed blonde, was tied in a messy ponytail that caressed her neck, and fell to her left breast. She was clad in an extremely tight-fitting, light yellow, tank top that just barely covered her naval, and high-waisted denim shorts to match.
As she strode towards the entrance to the underground mall, the elegant young woman caught the form of the lustful onlooker, who had been far from the first, in her peripheral vision. Frustration flowed through the young woman, and, suddenly stopping in her tracks, she turned to face the ogler.
"Is there something you need? Or are you just going to fucking size me up?" The young woman snarled, as she cocked her head to the side, causing her bangs to flop with it.
"Don't mind me. Window shopping, is all," Junichi responded nonchalantly.
The young woman said nothing more. She simply cleared her throat, spat onto the ground near the ogler's feet, and, with a rude gesture and an exclamation of "fuck yourself," she continued on her way.
"Well… okay, that was a thing that just happened," Junichi commented, as he shrugged in Worst's direction.
"Misaka doesn't understand; Misaka loves it when she catches tou-san eying her up, why did bitchface get so mad? Misaka means, you're ugly, minion, but not THAT ugly! Not ugly enough to deserve a response like that!" Worst responded, as she put her arm around her minion, and patted his left shoulder with her right hand.
"Thanks, Worst. That's the confidence boost I needed," Junichi grumbled.
"No problem; Misaka watches out for her minions. Now, didn't you and Misaka have some PRANKing to do? Do you approve of Misaka's suggestion?" Worst prodded, as she crossed one leg over the other, and began to impatiently fidget.
Junichi chuckled to himself more than in response to Worst's inquiry, as he clasped his hands, and leaned forward. He continued to observe the crowds; they were all so happy-looking, so full of life. Junichi knew that would soon change.
"What, zapping the mall up? Yeah, it'll work; it'll be a bit overboard, but it'll work. I guess, now, overboard is good, though. I want to see the look on trust fund baby's face when she gets sprayed down with water, along with everyone else… everyone in that mall is going to be extremely inconvenienced. They'll be annoyed for, at the very least, a couple of hours… perfect."
Worst nodded in satisfaction. She uncrossed her legs, and rose up from the bench. Junichi followed suit, and, giving Worst a playful shove, he passed her by. Electricity leapt from the nefarious clone of Misaka Mikoto as she grinned at his walking form.
Walking down the metallic stairs, which were flanked by dark brown, almost reddish bricks on either of their ends, Worst dodged between bumbling, irate shoppers, and avoided the flailing arms of thoughtless pink goblins, held in the arms of their caregivers. Worst felt herself throw up in her mouth a little as she, with her loyal minion not far behind, dodged a young couple, who were holding hands. The female, a blonde, was clad in the uniform of Tokiwadai Middle School, a uniform Misaka Worst was quite familiar with, while the male, who had a head of spiky dark brown, almost black hair, wore what both Worst and Junichi recognized to be the uniform of A Certain High School.
Once Worst had managed to squeeze through the crowds, both descending and ascending, she waited off to the side, near an informational booth a few meters away from the bottom of the stairs for her minion. Before long, Junichi emerged, stressed-looking. He barely avoided an oncoming hunting party of rowdy preteens and stumbled over to the informational booth.
"History's repeating itself, minion… anyways, time to get into action." Worst's eyes looked upwards, towards the two security cameras; one sat in either of the upper corners, looking down at the bottom of the staircase that lead back up to the surface. The cameras swivelled about, their glowing red 'pupils' landing on she and her minion's forms more than once. At the end of the mall's first hallway, which split into two more hallways, both of which were lined with shops, there were more security cameras which swivelled about in a way that Worst found to be almost menacing.
Worst grinned, as she grasped onto Yamashita Junichi's shoulders and pulled him close. Pressing herself against the informational booth, her body covered up part of a map of the mall's interior, which pointed out many of the shops and other points of interest in its snaking hallways. Yamashita Junichi writhed in Worst's arms at first, not realizing what was going on, and panicking as he imagined the ways in which Accelerator would utterly destroy him. Junichi didn't realize the fact of the matter, but Worst did; if Junichi would've been behaving more calmly, the two would've resembled a couple of inconspicuous lovers.
"Stop your squirming, minion. We need to keep up appearances, there's cameras everywhere. Misaka's going to make her way to the bathroom; no cameras there, Misaka's sure of it. In the bathroom, Misaka's going to let her ability go crazy," Worst began. As Worst whispered into his ear, Junichi slowly stopped writhing, and his lips curled into an approving smirk.
"And once the power's out, I'll warm things up. Just text me when you're ready for the waterworks," Junichi responded.
Misaka Worst nodded, and, unleashing Yamashita Junichi with a playful shove, she began to make her way towards the 'fork' in the hallway. The pyrokinesist remained behind, his arms crossed, as he began to loiter about. Worst saw him enter the first store on the left side of the hallway, which she knew to be a rather high-end beauty supplies store.
"Misaka's minion's into lavender-scented bubble baths? Misaka never knew."
Once Worst arrived at the 'fork' in the hallway, she took the fork's right hallway, leaving the left be; she knew that both hallways lead to washrooms, but the right hallway's washrooms were closer. Worst's eyes darted around, as she examined the stores that flanked her on either side. Worst's vision passed over jewelry stores, bookstores, 'natural beauty product' stores, and, eventually, her vision landed on a store that pertained to Worst's interests; an 'adult novelty shop'. White, pink and red hearts floated above the shop's logo, which read "Climaxxx – Your Number One Stop for All Things Naughty". Worst snickered, as her lips began to curl into a grin. The mischievous clone of Misaka Mikoto made a sharp right, and stepped from the underground mall's synthetically-lit hallway and into the darkened store.
As Worst's eyes began to adjust, two facts became obvious to her; firstly, the store was much larger on the inside than it looked to be on the outside, and, secondly, the store seemed to be trying to achieve some sort of dark and/or gothic theme. The darkened store was just barely lit by rays of crimson light that slowly spun in place. Worst looked to the ceiling, and found that the rays were produced by large, vaguely gothic-looking chandeliers. Worst rolled her eyes, and muttered to herself under her breath.
To Worst, the store almost resembled a department store, in its organizational system; there were a series of isles, each with a bright pink sign above them that hung from the ceiling, detailing what the isle contained. Isle four, the closest isle to Worst's position a few feet from the store's entrance, which was referred to as "Seductress' Stomping Ground", was relevant to Worst's interests.
Stepping into the isle, Worst's eyes widened slightly. Wooden shelves, that were easily ten feet tall or higher, were stocked with row after row of scandalous outfits. From corsets to 'naughty' maid outfits, to replicas of the wide variety of uniforms used by maids-in-training attending Ryouran Maid School, there was everything. Worst's vision fell upon an outfit that interested her in particular. It was in the row after the multiple rows dedicated to the Ryouran Maid School uniform replicas, and, to Worst, it was perfect.
Hanging from a shiny, black leather corset on a hanger of their own was a pair of long, thigh-high stockings. As Worst quickly ran a finger over them, they felt extremely soft, as if they were woolen. On another hanger, there were two elbow-length black gloves, which, upon being patted up by Worst, were made of the same material as the apparent set's stockings. Worst climbed onto the wooden shelf, and stood up on her tiptoes. She pulled the set down from a rack just above her head, and looked it over. Worst's vision continued to scan over the set, looking for a small, white square that would let her know just how much the store wanted for such a prize.
"M-M-M… Mikoto?!"
Misaka Worst looked up, a befuddled expression on her face. Worst clicked her tongue in annoyance as she beheld the source of the vocalization.
"Misaka isn't Onee-Sama. Get your facts straight."
Before Worst stood the embarrassed-looking form of Shirai Kuroko. Her tawny hair fell to her midsection, long, and straightened. The young woman, whose cheeks were scarlet red, was clad in a bright green, lower thigh-length sundress, and a pair of expensive-looking gladiator sandals. A stylish, light brown leather purse was slung over her shoulders, and a pair of aviator sunglasses were perched atop her head.
"W-Worst, I-I'm so sorry! It's really dark in here, a-and, I couldn't tell that it was you! I had your s-sister on my mind, n-not the way you think! I mean, I know I'm here, but… b-because…"
"Misaka knows aaalllll about why you're here… Misaka knows." Worst shot Kuroko a menacing grin as she approached the level four teleporter. "Misaka's got time; her minion is waiting for her, but he can continue to wait. This subject is far more important, anyways… Misaka is a master of eroticism."
Kuroko hung her head in shame, and shook it from side to side, as her entire face began to glow red. "You caught me red-handed, Worst. Can you keep a secret?" The teleport inquired, as Worst, arms crossed beneath her bosom, looked down.
"Misaka might, if Onee-Sama's main squeeze can. By the way, Misaka suggests that you invite some of the other, "superior" units! Misaka would like to have an orgy, but Misaka likely won't ever get the chance," Worst began, as Kuroko raised her head, and looked on.
"Misaka knows that the unit with serial number ten thousand thirty-two is into some dirty things, as is the unit with serial number ten thousand seven hundred and seventy-seven. Misaka's met The Prototype, but The Prototype is a prude," Worst explained.
"That would be extremely awkward, Worst... I think I'll pass. If you have someone waiting for you, you should probably go and meet with them. As much as I appreciate your offer, and your… um… knowledge, I think I can handle things on my own!" Kuroko responded, as she offered Worst a warm smile.
The nefarious clone of Misaka Mikoto shook her head, and took Kuroko by the wrist. "Misaka insists. The world of eroticism is grand and full of different things to explore. Misaka knows everything that there is to know about this world. Let Misaka be your guide."
Worst produced her phone from her pocket, unlocked it, and began to form a text message. "Minion, go do something for a few minutes just dont hit on girls. Misaka wont be there to save u if you fuck up."
Stuffing her phone back into her pocket, Worst looked back up, and was pleased to see that Kuroko hadn't run off on her. Worst spread her arms, and began to walk, as the teleporter reluctantly followed.
"See this? This, this is the stuff of legends. Misaka thinks it'd work well with some equipment," Worst explained, as she motioned towards the lingerie set she clung tightly to. She raised it upwards, assuming that Kuroko could bask in its glory. The teleporter examined the outfit as she continued to follow behind Worst. "I think it's… great, but it's a little bit too dark in color. I need something flashier, something brighter," Kuroko spoke, great pride evident in her tone of voice. It was then that she raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What exactly do you mean by 'equipment'?"
"Why don't you just dress up as that fucking frog? Misaka thinks Onee-Sama would fuck your brains out, then!" Worst proclaimed, as if she had tapped into some inner genius. Kuroko seemed to shudder at the idea, much to Worst's joy. "As for equipment, Misaka means basic things, your vanilla paraphernalia; your chastity devices, your clamps, your thrones or stools, the choice is up to you, for worship and such. How do you not know about this sort of thing? Misaka's disappointed; Misaka knows that Onee-Sama is as vanilla as they come, but, Misaka still expected more."
"C-chastity devices and clamps?! That's 'vanilla' paraphernalia?! This is all so… so…" Kuroko practically demanded; for as long as Kuroko knew her, she'd known that Worst was just a little bit twisted, but this seemed…
"Intense!" Kuroko blabbered.
"Here, Misaka found something while you were wigging out," Worst stated, as she climbed onto a wooden shelf at the end of the isle. She didn't have to stand on her toes, as the suit was within arms reach. Removing it from the rack, Worst held it before Shirai Kuroko.
The suit almost resembled a single-piece swimsuit, yet, in what appeared to be a deliberate act of defiance against the feelings of 'safety' a single-piece swimsuit provided, the suit was extremely revealing. It was bright red, and a diamond-shaped hole was cut in the lower center of the suit, which would expose the wearer's naval. It had no back to speak of; rather, the suit would be held to the wearer's torso by a series of long, thin strings.
"This looks… oddly familiar," Kuroko stated, as she looked the suit up and down. "Where have I seen this before?"
"Don't ask Misaka, Misaka isn't into girls," Worst replied. "Misaka thinks this will do just fine, for someone like you. It's bright, and it hides just enough to preserve your dignity, while also allowing you to flaunt… whatever those are." The nefarious clone pointed to Kuroko's considerably smaller bosom, to which the teleporter pouted.
"Not funny, Worst! But, I think this looks really good, actually! Still can't shake the feeling that I've seen this somewhere else before," Kuroko spoke, as she gently took the outfit from Worst's free hand. She gave it one more quick glance, before she shrugged. "I've been here for what feels like hours, and I haven't really found anything that'll suit the mood, at least until now. But, ah! I'm sure you don't want to hear me ramble, especially about this sort of thing. Sorry, Worst."
Misaka Worst grinned, and offered a soft, and, to Kuroko, at least, what seemed like an almost villainous chuckle. "Misaka doesn't mind; Misaka likes to know what Onee-Sama's been getting up to, so that she can tease Onee-Sama about it."
Kuroko sighed, and placed the lewd, corrupted swimsuit over her shoulder. "Thanks, Worst, for helping me find something. You really didn't have to. Anyway, earlier, I asked if you could keep a secret. Can you? I really want this to be a surprise. You can prank me another time if you want, but can I ask that you don't this time? Please, Worst?" Kuroko inquired, with a look of desperation that made Misaka Worst chuckle.
"Misaka can try, but she can't promise anything. Misaka has a habit of letting important information slip in important situations. If Misaka sees Onee-Sama, the urge to spoil your plans might just overwhelm her," Worst stated.
Kuroko offered Worst a small wave, as she turned away, and made her way to the cash at the front of the store. Frustration was evident in the teleporter's facial expression, which brought the villainous clone great joy. Worst was far from done at Climaxxx, however. Leaving the "Seductresses' Stomping Ground" isle, Worst looked to the bright sign above the isle adjacent to it, which was known as "Masochists' Bliss"; she rang her hands as she casually stepped into the isle.
Yamashita Junichi couldn't have possibly been any more bored. Having received Worst's text some time earlier, the pyrokinesist had sought out a place to sit until Worst was done with whatever it was that she was preoccupied with. In the end, following a few minutes of indecision, he'd decided to grab a quick bite to eat in the underground mall's food court.
The lines were more than the pyrokinesist could reasonably cope with; as he sat in a hard, rather chilly plastic seat at one of the few empty tables in the food court, Junichi's vision looked over the crowds of people who had formed zigzagging lines in front of food vendors' places of operation. To Junichi's dismay, even the cheap, notoriously unhealthy fast food vendors who had set up shop in the food court were packed.
With his earbuds jammed into his ears, blaring the official Bloody Fist soundtrack's aggressive and heavily trash metal-based themes, the pyrokinesist produced his phone from his pocket, unlocked the device, and navigated to his phone's text messaging app. Opening it with a tap of his finger, he began to type up a message.
"Worst where tf you at? Waiting sucks get to the foodcourt nerd."
As Junichi pocketed his phone, his stomach cried out in a desperate plea of hunger. The pyrokinesist turned his attention back to the various food vendors in the food court, and looked down at his stomach, as if it was a living thing that could sense his anger.
"Quit bugging me. Do you really want to wait in one of those lines? Worst should be here soon enough, and then we can get things rolling, my little man. You won't have time to think about how hungry you are when we're PRANKing everyone."
Utterly bored, and without anything better to amuse himself with, Yamashita Junichi formed a small ember in the palm of his hand. The tiny, crackling flame danced about, as if it were a little performer. From the center of his palm, it moved to the tip of his fingers, and then to his wrist. Before it could potentially gain sentience and attempt to take over the world, Junichi waved his hand, and snuffed it out.
It was then that he saw, but didn't hear something fluttering around his head. Junichi swatted at the airborne annoyance, palm outstretched. The miniscule irritation landed on the table, and looked up to him. Junichi rested his chin in the palm of the same hand the ember had been dancing in, and placed his elbow on the table. It was a tiny insect, that almost resembled a beetle; its shell was white, as were its six long, spindly legs. Its wings folded into its shell, and its compound eyes moved about on either side of its head.
"My, my; you're a weird-looking thing, aren't you?" Junichi rhetorically asked; he didn't particularly expect an answer from the insect. It began to walk around the table, tiny legs soundlessly moving up and down at a rather impressive rate. Junichi placed his available hand down on the table, palm against the cold plastic. The beetle immediately changed its direction, and began to walk towards the pyrokinesist's outstretched hand.
Climbing onto his finger, the beetle's legs, the tips of which were rather sharp, danced across Junichi's skin. "At least I've got a buddy. You going to wait with me, man?"
The beetle didn't answer, then spread its wings and flew away. Yamashita Junichi groaned. "Stop talking to bugs, dumb shit."
Misaka Worst placed a small collection of soon-to-be purchases at Climaxxx's front, and only cash. In a pile, there was the outfit Worst had taken a liking to, as well as numerous nipple and foreskin clamps, the latter of which surprised Worst simply because they existed, along with a grand total of five bottles of lubricant.
"Y'know, for a second, I thought you were biribiri, but you're not! You're one of her Sisters, yeah?" The young man behind the counter inquired. Worst raised an eyebrow at him, and proceeded to fish around in her shorts' pockets for her wallet with her left hand.
"Misaka's far superior to Onee-Sama; just look at Misaka's tits," Worst pointed out in a matter of a fact sort of way, pointing with her available right hand to her bosom.
"Yeah, they're pretty nice. Fine shape; big and round. If you were anyone else's Sister, I'd try and get at 'em… I don't want to die though! Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Why does biribiri have to be so berserk?!" The young man exclaimed in what sounded like Worst to be suffering. This amused Worst to no end.
Once she had found her wallet, Worst offered the young man a glance. Short, pointy light blue hair adorned his head, and he had light stubble of the same color – Worst assumed his hair was somehow naturally blue, or he had gone out of his way to dye his stubble, too. He was clad in a loose-fitting and quite baggy brownish-golden hooded sweater; Worst could see little more, as the lower half of his body was obscured by the long wooden counter.
"In Onee-Sama's defense, she's actually calmed down a bit; that doesn't mean that she wouldn't fry you up, though. Onee-Sama doesn't involve herself in Misaka's business, most of the time, which is a good thing. Unfortunately, for you, Misaka's womb is on reserve, as are her tits," Worst pointed out as she slipped her debit card, chip forward, into the machine that the young man had handed her.
"Hey, say, wait a sec. Which one are you? I know biribiri has a lot of Sisters. You don't talk like the other ones…"
It was then that the young man's face went completely pale. His eyebrows fled nearly halfway up his forehead as his eyes widened. His body began to shake slightly, as realization set in.
"Y-you're… you're with… one of… Accel-chan's. F-forget I said anything! We never had this conversation! I JUST DON'T WANT TO DIE! OH, HOW THE FETISH KING HAS FALLEN! WHERE'S THAT BASTARD KAMI-YAN WHEN YOU NEED HIM?! Oh, that's right! He's off engaging in his mating ritual with his cute wife! GAH! So jealous!" The young man cried as he backed away.
Worst outright laughed as she placed her debit card back into her wallet, and pocketed her wallet. "You're afraid of tou-san? Please. Tou-san is a big sissy and a tsundere; Misaka's going to have tou-san screaming and cumming nonstop for her, soon!" She proclaimed.
The young man behind the counter seemed to have settled back into a more relaxed state; Worst could see, plain as day, that his face was still ghostly white. At the very least, he had stopped shaking. Worst clicked her tongue as the young man bagged her lewd purchases.
"S-seriously, I'd rather NOT have Accel-chan splatter me all over the walls, okay? I was… I was just messing around! Yeah, joking, hahaha! Oh man Accel-chan and biribiri are going to gang up on me… the end of the Fetish King may be near!" The young man lamented. "T-thanks for shopping at Climaxxx: Your Number One Stop for All Things Naughty…"
Worst offered the young man a playful wave before she left the store, purposefully allowing her hips to seductively sway from side to side. Out of the corner of her eye, Worst saw his head following her, while she surmised that another head of his was rising, as well. The thought of the young man's sexual frustrations amused Misaka Worst.
The diabolical clone of Misaka Mikoto produced her phone, occasionally looking up to examine her surroundings, and to ensure that she didn't bump into any of the wandering crowds that surrounded her. Worst went to type up a message to her minion – however, she began to laugh, and snorted once or twice when she read the message he had sent to her. Her fingers began to tap against the screen of her phone as she formed a reply.
"awwwwww! Loyal minion. Im heading to the bathroom now. Get rdy."
October 9th, 2014. 2:51 PM.
Kamijou Index shovelled the last of the scrambled eggs that sat on her plate into her mouth. With her eyes closed, the nun moaned aloud as she chewed; her taste buds were being deeply pleasured, as what remained of her brunch was pushed down her throat by the muscles in her mouth.
"Touma… so good. You're the best cook ever!" Index happily exclaimed, as she leaned back in her chair at the kitchen table. The nun happily placed her hands on her belly, which felt like it was going to explode at any moment, and sighed contentedly. "I-I mean, you are too, Misaki! You're just as good!" Index quickly added as she jumped slightly.
"Yes, Touma, this was so very splendid. Thank you so much for making this for us!" Misaki added, giggling as a result of Index's antics, as she reached over to her husband's hand and ran her bare fingers over it. Touma's lips had curled into a wide grin of complete satisfaction.
"This is all I want, you guys, all I need. I just want to know what I'm making my family happy. If I'm doing that, I'm set," Touma spoke, as he locked his fingers between Misaki's own. His wife ran her thumb over Touma's right hand's own thumb.
Othinus, who sat on her knees on the table's surface adjacent to Index, had a plate that was better suited for her body's small size, and a serving to match. With her bare hands, Othinus gripped the last bit of her piece of ham, and bit into it. The tiny former Magic God was awash in lovely sensations; Touma's cooking was supreme, and superior to all others, to Othinus.
"You know we have forks for you, right Othi-chan? All you have to do is ask," Touma stated. Othinus swallowed her morsels, and shook her head.
"Forks? Forks are for plebeians. Why use silverware when I have fingers and opposable thumbs that accomplish the same task perfectly well? I know the answer, of course; utilizing silverware is seen as the 'proper' thing to do in most circles. I, however, disagree. I'm taking back eating with one's hands, and reinventing savagery!" Othinus proclaimed.
Index raised a hand to her chin, and stroked it thoughtfully between her finger and thumb. "Othinus actually makes a really interesting point. Why DO we use forks, or spoons, or knives? If I wanted to drink a bowl of soup, I could just… drink from the bowl! You know, put it to my lips and slurp it all up, or if I wanted to eat spaghetti, I could curl the noodles around my finger, or fingers. We eat toast with our hands, not with forks and knives, among other different kinds of foods!"
"The nun seems to be on a thinking rampage," Othinus commented. "Don't hurt yourself."
"Where is all this philosophy coming from, Index?" Misaki inquired; she was genuinely curious. Index was far from foolish, and she was certainly a thinker, Misaki knew it, and had seen Index's intellect in action before. This, however, seemed like an oddly specific topic to Misaki.
"Don't know; it just came to my mind, and I felt like saying it! I guess it's just funny that we, as people, as humans or otherwise, apply certain values and certain levels of importance to certain things," Index replied. "Does anyone need the bathroom?" The little nun inquired. In response, both of her guardians shook their heads, and Othinus pointed to the entrance to the living room, referring to the many bathrooms she had in her own miniature mansion.
"Okay, speak now or forever hold your peace! I'm going to go brush my teeth and wash my hair, so I might be a while," Index explained, before she left her seat and journeyed off to the bathroom.
"Allow me to get down from here before you get all… touchy-feely? I'd much rather not bear witness to your displays. Far too early for that," Othinus complained.
"Who said anything about touchy-feely? Maybe I won't lay a hand on Misaki for the rest of the day," Touma responded with a smug grin, as he folded his arms.
"Please. Don't pretend like such a feat is possible," Othinus grumbled as her own lips curled into a grin. The little former Magic God slid from the edge of the table and down onto the pulled-out chair behind her. Her tiny bare feet made contact with the soft cushion on the chair, and, after she bounced in place for a few seconds, Othinus climbed down to, and slid down the right front leg of the chair, as if she were a little firewoman. "Steed! To me!" Othinus commanded.
No steed came. Othinus pumped her fist in the air in anger. "Flea-bitten mongrel! You will pay for your treachery!" Othinus lamented as she sauntered off in the direction of the living room.
"What was this I heard about you not touching me for the rest of the day? I do not think I will be able to permit this," Misaki stated, as she rose up from her seat. She slowly, and methodically approached her seated husband.
"Othi-chan's probably right, I don't think that's possible. Even if I tried, I know I'd break, eventually," Touma responded, as his wife smiled warmly down at him. He lifted her shirt, and placed a kiss on her tummy. Misaki giggled, as she ruffled her beloved's hair.
"Even if that tickles, I like the way it feels." Misaki purred. "Do it again? Pleeease?"
Touma placed another soft kiss, which caused his wife to shiver slightly, and then looked up to Misaki. Touma flashed her a grin, before he rose up to his full, imposing height. Misaki found herself looking up at her husband, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close. Her husband softly kissed her on the forehead, which caused Misaki to giggle.
"It appears you lost before you could even begin, husband of mine. For shaaaame," Misaki spoke, as she wrapped her own arms around her husband's back.
Touma shrugged, and rubbed the tip of his nose against Misaki's own nose. She smiled warmly, and began to blush as he did so. "Worth it. I'd rather admit to losing than waste a perfect day by not adoring you. Best wife ever," Touma responded.
Kamijou Misaki's heart soared, and her blush only deepened at her beloved's words. Misaki felt a joy beyond all joys wash over her as she stood up on her tiptoes, removed her arms from around Touma, and placed both of her hands against her husband's cheeks. A swift, but extremely passionate and loving kiss was planted on Touma's lips, as Misaki closed her eyes briefly.
Pulling away, Misaki returned to a normal stance. "Best husband ever."
With that, Touma proceeded to pick Misaki up, and gently placed her over his shoulder. Misaki giggled wildly at the sudden act, and allowed herself to be carried about. "Let's leave the dishes until we get home, huh? I'll get them in the sink, but they can sit there. Let's go against the usual schedule for a day!" Touma spoke as he carried his wife off into the living room.
"Is there any good reason not to, my prince? We are always on schedule, always on time. I do not see why we cannot just break away from it for a day, at the least," Misaki replied, still draped over her husband's shoulder.
Touma approached the couch, checked for any lingering Othinuses, and, when none showed themselves, he knelt down, and gently, and cautiously lowered Misaki down onto it. "Did you enjoy your ride?" Touma inquired as he laughed. Misaki set a cushion atop the couch's right arm, and then placed her head against it.
"Very much so; I do have to say that being carried in your arms is my preferred mode of transportation," Misaki replied. Touma rose halfway up, and then placed his hands on the end of the couch's seat, a few inches from Misaki. "Your wish is my command, Misaki-Sama," Touma jokingly replied. "I'm going to go get the dishes into the sink, and I'll be right back. Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm away."
Misaki gently swatted at her husband's form; he sidestepped the 'attack', as they both laughed aloud at their respective antics. "Trouble is something I get into, but I rarely do so all by my lonesome; trouble is best made in groups," Misaki stated, as she raised her right hand. She spread her index and middle finger apart, and placed them above and below her eye, in her well-known, cutesy pose.
As Touma departed for the kitchen with a wave, Misaki let her eyes close. She knew she should've been sitting up, as she had just eaten, but, her body and mind didn't want for that to happen. She thought about sitting up, and tried to will her form to do so, but laying down seemed like the much more appealing position.
For a while, Kamijou Misaki laid like that. More than once her body yearned for her husband's touch, and more than one she pushed the yearning back, reasoning that there would be plenty of time for that in the late evening hours.
Misaki's yearnings were interrupted by an odd sensation. It started at the bottom of her leg, near her ankle, and slowly began to pitter-patter upwards. Small, poking sensations crawled up Misaki's leg, and then up her thigh. It finally stopped at her midsection. The sensation ceased to be. Suddenly, however, she began to feel something tugging at the outer side of her thigh.
Misaki opened her eyes, and caught the tiny burglar red-handed. Othinus looked up to Kamijou Misaki, her hands stuffed deep into the left pocket of her pants.
"You're nothing like the nun; her phone is glued to her being, nearly at all times. Being able to access the Internet on a mobile device is far superior to having to constantly look up at the screen of a television," Othinus complained. Misaki watched on, amused, as Othinus scaled her torso, and, gripping onto Misaki's shirt with her tiny hands, pulled herself up.
The little former Magic God had clearly washed her hair, as it sparkled beneath the sunlight's rays. It fell to her posterior, elegant and a littler bit curly. Othinus had changed from her dress, and into a different outfit. Dark blue leggings, which depicted a white, exotic-looking floral pattern clung to her legs and waist. On her torso, Othinus wore a long-sleeved, woolen turtleneck shirt, whose color matched that of Othinus' left eye.
"You are correct about that, Othinus. Index long ago became one with her phone," Misaki replied. Realizing that she had company, Misaki reached for the remote that sat on the left arm of the couch, though her arms weren't nearly long enough to grasp for it; Misaki wouldn't close her eyes and rest if Othinus wanted to spend a few minutes with her.
Othinus rolled her eye, rose up, and made her way over to the couch's left arm, as Misaki giggled. "You do not have to, Othinus; I just did not want to suddenly sit up, and knock you down," Kamijou Misaki stated.
"I believe you," Othinus stated flatly as she grasped the television remote. She wrapped her tiny arms around it, and hoisted the remote upwards, as if it was a great two-handed weapon. Othinus, careful of keeping her balance, walked up Misaki's leg, and placed the remote on the Mental Out user's belly when she arrived. "You're welcome."
"Thank you very much, Othinus; I appreciate your willingness to help," Misaki responded sincerely. Othinus plopped down on Misaki's stomach as Misaki reached for the remote. The Mental Out user flicked the television on, and set the remote down on the space available on the couch's right arm.
As one of Academy City's news channels broadcasted the weather for the day, for the next three days, and for the upcoming week, Misaki heard a sound that caused her to begin to laugh; the kitchen tap had, at some point or another, been turned on, and the sound of dishes being cleaned was more than enough to make her giggle, at least at the implications.
"Did that dunderhead not say the chores would be dealt with later?" Othinus inquired as she crossed her arms, and shook her head in disapproval.
"He has always had a difficult time breaking schedule, Othinus. It is one of the things that makes Touma, Touma. It is one of the things that I love about him," Misaki responded, as she tried to control her giggling.
Othinus smiled, and turned her face away, before she snapped it back into passiveness. "Anyways. I demand that you face me in combat, in the realm of Bloody Fist, at one point or another. You faced the nun, and were utterly defeated. Yet, in a fair fight, without the use of an overpowered character, I believe that you could flourish. While it's true that I'm tutoring the nun, I can also tutor you. Then, when I pit you against one ano… I mean, watch on, proudly as my students honorably spar, I can know that I have brought some positivity to the world."
Misaki offered Othinus a playful glare, and an equally playful smirk. "You are officially on. Tonight… might not be the best night, depending on how Touma is feeling, however, I can certainly make time for you tomorrow. I promise I will, Othinus."
Othinus gave a nod of affirmation, as she turned her attention to the television screen. "The both of you are little better than brood animals, constantly engaging in coitus," the tiny Magic God teased.
"A healthy sex life helps promote a healthy marriage, Othinus," Misaki retorted.
"Healthy might be an understatement…" Othinus said, as she began to adjust her position; the tiny former Magic God curled her legs beneath her posterior, and placed her hands in her lap. Before Kamijou Misaki, Othinus looked like a tiny proper lady.
"I know we've had this discussion before, but… Touma and I do not mean to bother or upset you, Othinus."
Othinus craned her neck to Kamijou Misaki, and cocked her head to one side. The suddenness of the tonal shift caught Othinus off guard. "Bothered? Upset? Not particularly. In all seriousness, it would be foolish and illogical for me to feel emotionally unwell because he and you have a physical relationship; you are married, after all. It would be queer if you didn't have one. I think THAT might bother me; such prudishness is… unsettling to see in humans, who are, inherently, very social," Othinus explained.
"Social is one way to put it," Misaki commented.
Othinus chuckled softly, and rose up. She placed her hands on her tiny hips, and began to pace about on Misaki's belly; Kamijou Misaki didn't mind it. She found the tiny former Magic God to be quite adorable, in her own strange way.
"Should I ever find a way to be restored to my full size… at this time, I don't even know if that's something I truly want. I've adjusted to my current height, so much so that it almost feels… it almost feels like I've always been this way, Misaki. This feels like "the norm", now, so to speak." Othinus rambled.
Kamijou Misaki offered Othinus her left hand's index finger. Reluctantly, at first, the tiny Magic God took it into her own two hands. "Should you ever want to find a way, we will help you, Othinus. We are your family. We… we love you, and we want you to be happy; Touma, Index, myself, we… love you more than any one of us could ever explain. Our friendship was once tenuous, in the past, but as I've grown to know you, and the person you are, as Mikoto was able to start again with Accelerator-san, I sought to, and have accomplished the same."
Othinus' lips parted, ever so slightly, and she merely looked at the warmly smiling face of Kamijou Misaki, for a few moments. Before long, the tiny former Magic God managed to place her lips back together, and she, in an act that had slowly become more and more characteristic of her as years passed by, smiled. It wasn't wide, but it was full of warmth.
"Accursed Mental Out. Understanding you was an unfathomable task, even more so than understanding that dunderhead in the kitchen.
But I'm glad I was able to."