Quick announcement: with the blessings of Destati69, the main man himself, I'm proud to announce that Osamu Yuki, of both "A Compilation of Misfortune" and "Total Drama Harem!" fame will be making a brief cameo appearance. I can only hope that I'm able to do the character justice! Consider this a love letter, and feel free to let me know what you think, as always.
The reviews are in, and it's my duty to respond. Let's begin!
Whwsms: I guess it could be, couldn't it? The poor Touman and his faithful partner alike have both been through a lot. Glad to gain your approval, friend!
Could it be? Is it something 'the tsundere', as Worst would say, is comfortable with? We'll have to find out, won't we? For some reason, I have a feeling it won't be all that simple.
321jaz: chappy! I like that term. Glad to gain your approval! I hope to continue to do so.
Geust's Account, whose review will be responded to next, actually hit the nail right on the head. Unlike in another time, and in another world, where a certain sentient combat machine was created for the purpose of devastation, Protectron is different, so to speak. You'll find out soon enough. If only Othinus had any idea.
What steps, exactly, will a certain Dark Matter user take in order to ensure the protection of the people he's devoted himself to protecting? A level three pyrokinesist couldn't possibly hope to stand against the second ranked level five alone.
You could say that; his Dark Matter beetles certainly seem to see him as a father, though, I suppose that makes enough sense.
Hahaha. I'm just waiting for the right moment, friend.
You'll have to read on to see where the road goes, in regards to Accelerator and 'the brat'.
I hope you enjoy chapter eight of Times Change, and I hope you enjoyed chapter twenty-four of A Certain Strange Scenario!
Geust's Account: good observation, friend. There are a few parallels to scenes that played out in another time, and in another world. The Uiharu Kazari of this timeline is going to be quite the stark contrast to the Uiharu Kazari of the alternate universe, and for that reason, among others, I'm looking forward to introducing her, sooner than later.
I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed it, as well as Touma's quote – I quite enjoyed Touma's 'fortune' myself.
When you mess with the beetle, you get the horns… sorry.
That sounds even better to me! I suppose one thing can lead to another, can't it?
I have a feeling that a chit-chat is indeed around the corner, depending on how things play out; you'll just have to read on to find out, friend!
Ha! Care beetles. That's one way of looking at them. I wonder if, on their underbellies, they have little rainbows and happy, smiling faces that shoot "happy rays"?
Yup; that's something that's going to be interesting to see play out, isn't it? Will-chan might not be pleased at all, given the unrest this 'encounter' is inevitably going to bring to the Misaka Network, and the Sisters who communicate using it.
That it will! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
With response time coming to a close, I'd like to announce that this chapter officially brings the PRANK Arc to a close. The Surfacing Arc will be the next story arc introduced in Times Change, and it'll be kicked off next chapter!
Everything had happened so fast; Last Order had sprung upon him, not even giving him a second to act. Without his choker, he was about as physically capable as an infant. Held in Last Order's arms, as the lips that he was forced to know were so soft, the lips he didn't want to admit were so soft, and so absolutely, sickeningly delicious, Accelerator, the number one strongest esper in Academy City, an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, a breaker of espers and magicians alike, he who would bow to no man, felt desperate, and conflicted.
Last Order's fully-developed adult bosom continuously rubbed against his own flimsy, skeletal chest, and, as he felt some sort of primitive, raw desire course through his body, Accelerator felt love and hate tugging at either side of his body. He loved Last Order, not in this way, or, at least, he thought he didn't love Last Order in this way, he was almost sure that he didn't, and, yet, he felt overwhelming, unsettlingly intense self-hatred stab at his gut. This wasn't what Accelerator had intended to happen; the brats were supposed to be something like his surrogate children, and yet, there was this.
Accelerator tried to fight back the tears, the liquid weakness, the shame made physical that fled from his eyes, to no avail. Accelerator, the "top dog" had fought himself before, after that spiky-haired hero, supported by the Mental Out girl, had knocked him out cold, with one, final punch to the face that changed everything. Despite this, fighting not only this feeling, but this situation seemed like an impossibility to Accelerator. Unlike when he was fighting "that", a part of him wanted "this", a part of himself that he deemed to be ill.
Last Order's lips continued to smack against his own, as she breathed harshly, and quickly, in and out of her nostrils. Still pinned against the kitchen counter, supported by the arms of his dependent, certainly not the dependent he expected to be engaging in something like this, Accelerator's body shuddered, as if it were appalled by each soft, exotic moan that emerged from Last Order's lips, when they parted from his own. Accelerator was only even further disgusted by himself, as his weak, thin arms struggled to pull Last Order closer, acting of his subconscious' own accord.
"Last… Order… What the… FUCK… are we fucking… doing…?" Accelerator mumbled, almost incoherently, to an extent, in a spare moment in which Last Order separated her lips from his. Last Order's smile was an odd one; to Accelerator, it almost looked crooked. Her big, brown eyes looked into the crimson orbs that sat inside of his eye sockets.
"M-MISAKA doesn't know, MISAKA's never… done something so l-lewd before, MISAKA's never dreamed of something like… this… especially not with y-y… you, but, M-MISAKA thinks that, because this is happening with you, MISAKA thinks that she can say that this is okay… MISAKA loves you, MISAKA loves you so much! MISAKA MISAKA exclaims, as her voice rises to fall in line with her own heightened emotions, brought on by this queer moment…" Last Order replied; though her reply had begun softly enough, her proclamation of love was exclaimed louder than any vocalization Accelerator had heard produced by the usually soft-spoken clone in months, possibly years; Accelerator couldn't quite remember.
Last Order had told him that she loved him before, but, on those occasions, Accelerator had been able to shrug it off as little more than bursts of happiness, brought on by whatever favor Accelerator had done for her. This, however, couldn't be shrugged off so easily by the "top dog".
"Goddamn… brat," Accelerator spat, as the shame that fled from his eyes only increased in speed, and in its strength. "You've fucking put me in a really goddamn fucked up position, this… this isn't…"
Accelerator's vibrating body began to shake with greater intensity, as his mind began to unravel at an even faster pace. A sob awkwardly fled from his throat, as his form shuddered with the effort the vocalization took to produce. As if to shame him further, his arms fell, and his hands found their way to Last Order's hips. He wanted to push her away, so badly, for so many reasons, but Accelerator found himself falling deeper and deeper into this rabbit hole he'd been pulled into.
"I fucking… I fucking love you too, you goddamn stupid brat, but this… I don't fucking know! This is just fucked up! I don't even know if this is real, or if some stupid fucking magic asshole is fucking around with my head!" Accelerator shouted, with more ferocity than he'd intended. As if to atone for the accidentally harsh vocalization, Accelerator stumbled forward, as Last Order moved to accommodate his shivering body. He closed the distance between himself and a nearby kitchen chair, which he then set himself in.
His lips had curled into a grin, which began to stretch across his lower face, and, despite himself, and, despite his shaking body, and his screaming, revolting mind, his vibrating left arm was extended outwards.
"Last Order, get the fuck over… here… please? I don't even know what I'm fucking… doing… but the wrongness of this fucked up shit is… I don't know, it's goddamn doing something to me. Fucking brats, always making me soft… like this."
It was Last Order's turn to question herself, as her grinning, vibrating guardian sat before her. What, exactly, would happen, if she took this step into the dark, inky unknown that sat before her, beckoning her to step forward? What wouldn't happen? Last Order wasn't afraid of Accelerator harming her, far from it. If anything, Last Order felt that she had done more harm in her rash, sudden actions than Accelerator had ever done to her – had Accelerator even actually hurt her, ever? Last Order couldn't recall such an instance in the moment.
"Accelerator… MISAKA MISAKA says meekly, unsure of what action to take…" Last Order spoke, as her face had begun to erupt into a bright pink blush.
"Last Order, I fucking love you, okay? I goddamn fucking love you. Ever since you and the other brat… ever since you started… fucking growing up, things have been really goddamn awkward for me. I've had to do a lot of thinking, a lot of… contemplating. I've kept all this goddamn shit pent up inside of me, because I know it's fucking wrong. This is immoral, and against every fucking thing I stand for.
"But I… I just don't know what to do with either of you stupid brats anymore. The other brat's constantly fucking throwing herself at me, and, this shit is just getting to me. I think it's fucking getting to you, too."
"MISAKA understands, at least, MISAKA thinks she does, MISAKA MISAKA says, hoping to be able to become your understander in this matter that obviously has you feeling very… torn," Last Order replied, as she crossed the bridge that she'd been standing indecisively before. One slipper-clad foot after another, Last Order approached her guardian, and, as if she had done something like this a thousand times before, as if this wasn't her first, awkward romantic interaction, with someone she thought she wasn't supposed to be thinking about in an even slightly romantic way, Last Order set herself down, awkwardly, and unceremoniously in Accelerator's lap.
Tears were still streaming down Accelerator's face; at this point, he'd come to accept their presence as a part of the strangeness of this encounter, and with some effort, the wide-eyed Accelerator, more genuinely smiling than simply grinning, wrapped his arms around Last Order's torso, as he pulled her close. Last Order's lips curled into an awkward, but warm and accepting smile, as she placed her forehead against her guardian's own. This felt 'okay' to Accelerator; he wasn't kissing the brat, they were just showing affection to one another. In a way, kissing was another way of showing affection, but that was reserved for couples – the very idea of having anything of that sort with either of the brats made Accelerator want to destroy himself, yet, at the same time, it seemed so ideal, so perfect, in some perverse way. He'd shared his life with Last Order and Misaka Worst, so far, in this parent-child charade. Wouldn't it just be something different? An evolution?
"Last Order, I love you. So fucking much."
"MISAKA loves you too, more than you could ever know, more than MISAKA could ever say, MISAKA MISAKA explains, as she closes her eyes, and embraces the tranquility of this moment."
"Boo! Control Tower! Don't let this be the end; you've got to get a foot in the doors – maybe literally, Misaka doesn't really know what tou-san's into in regards to his fetishes – so that Misaka can have her way with tou-san! Take his virginity, if you have to, Misaka has no use for that shit!"
"The Accelerator doesn't appear to be in any condition to engage in coitus, Misaka assumes, based on the Accelerator's behavior… Eheheh, Misaka chuckles malevolently, as she realizes that the Accelerator is in an ironically vulnerably position. Superior unit, you should take his v-card, Misaka suggests."
"MISAKA isn't doing that, MISAKA MISAKA exclaims, drawing the line in order to avoid continued exposure to p-peer pressure!"
"Peer pressure? Is that what the kids are calling it? Misaka knows better…"
In the heat of Last Order's discussion with Misaka Worst, and Misaka Ten Thousand Seven Hundred and Seventy-Seven, She'd neglected to notice that her body had slumped down, slightly. The side of her face rested against Accelerator's shoulder. Last Order's eyes looked at Accelerator's face, as they occasionally blinked. Around Last Order's waist, Accelerator's arms hung. With his weeping quieting, Accelerator planted a single, soft, kiss on his dependent's forehead.
"MISAKA doesn't want anything between us to change. MISAKA just… just wanted to show you how much she loves you, and how much she appreciates everything you've done for her, MISAKA MISAKA explains, attempting to ensure that the previous incident doesn't create a rift between herself and Accelerator," Last Order quietly spoke.
"Don't be stupid. Nothing's going to change, goddamn brat. Does the other brat…?"
"The inferior unit was partly "responsible" for this, MISAKA MISAKA admits, somewhat embarrassed by the fact that she allowed the inferior unit to get into her head."
"Fucking figures. I… I love both of you ass-pains."
Last Order grinned awkwardly, as she bit her lip. "MISAKA knows that… the inferior unit seems to "want" you; the inferior unit's trying to persuade MISAKA to bring down the floodgates for her, MISAKA MISAKA confesses, betraying the inferior unit by exposing her evil plans."
Accelerator grunted, as his grip on Last Order tightened. "Whatever. The other brat's going to have to have her shit set straight; I'm not going to do something as fucked up as that with her. I doubt she's even serious; the other goddamn brat is a fucking bitch, and she likes fucking with people. You know that."
Last Order nodded, as she closed her eyes, and sighed. This was strange, and wrong, and yet, so, so good. This would likely never happen again; Last Order assumed it would become something of a skeleton in the closet, never to be mentioned.
"Oi! Worst!"
"Misaka is fine; just waiting for her bumbling frien— minion to return to her side…"
Before Misaka Worst stood a contingent of Anti Skill officers, armed with batons, and riot shields; at the helm of the contingent were two people Worst recognized. Yomikawa Aiho, her former legal guardian, and Aiho's second-in-command, Tessou Tsuzuri. Beneath their anti riot helmets, Worst could see the ends of Aiho's short, neck-length dark hair, and the much longer side bangs of Tsuzuri's own slightly darker hair.
Each individual who made up the contingent of officers was clad in a series of identical outfits, which seemed oddly dystopian-looking to Worst. Armor-clad, bright blue leggings, thick, armored combat boots, armored, long-sleeved bright blue chest guards, and anti riot helmets, all of which, to Worst's gratitude had translucent faceguards of bulletproof glass; at least she could see that these officers were real people…
All except for one, if Worst could even consider this to be an "officer".
Directly behind Yomikawa Aiho and Tessou Tsuzuri was what would be a terrifying presence, if Worst didn't know how much of a corny, suck-up it was. Standing just a few inches above eight feet tall, towering over its Anti Skill compatriots, was the living automaton known only as "the Protectron".
Broad-shouldered, and with thick, mechanical limbs, the widths of which could've put a bodybuilder to shame, Protectron's body was made up of metal; its chest was adorned with reflective, light grey plates that merged together, and formed neat, patterned creases, each of which glowed with cyan light. Its midsection was made up of eight long, sharp-looking metallic spines, that met in the center of its midsection. Beneath the spines, Worst could see what looked like another 'layer' of the same metal. It looked, to Worst, to be human-like, and yet, paradoxically, it looked so inhuman. It lacked ears; rather, it had a small, darkened hole on either side of its head. As well, it lacked a nose, nor did it possess lips; instead, its lipless, toothless upper and lower jaw, which Worst knew served no function, instead, they simply 'were', and formed a wide, toothless smile, that, to Worst, had always looked almost sinister. From its perpetually open mouth, bright cyan light emerged. Two, unblinking glowing cyan orbs sat in either of its eye sockets. From the top and bottom of either of its eye sockets, a glowing cyan line ran down its armored face, and up to its forehead, where a thin, glowing concave crease laid. From the knuckles of its five armored fingers and thumb on either of its two hands, an additional thin, cyan line ran up to its wrists, where they met, and became two singular lines, that ran up either of its arms.
Worst couldn't quite see if Protectron had any more of these glowing lines on the rest of its body, as its torso was clad in an extremely large, dark blue Aloha Shirt, which was covered in images of tacky, bright green palm leaves. The shirt was tucked into a pair of long, large, beige slacks, which looked to be held to its waist by a tightened, dark brown belt.
"Misaka doesn't know what happened, before you ask. Misaka just saw the lights go off, and then the water sprinklers started; Misaka thinks it was the result of some weird fuck-up, probably the mall's fault. Misaka's thinking about suing," Worst rambled, as she looked up innocently at Aiho, who, by the facial expression she was staring down at Worst with, didn't seem to believe a word of it.
"Something like this happens, when you, and one of your friends are here, and you just happened to escape in time, Worst?"
Worst kept up the innocent visage, and she would continue to do so, for as long as she could; but she knew that Yomikawa Aiho was no fool. Aiho held up her hand, silently asking for her subordinates to stay behind, as she knelt before Worst, and looked into her eyes, with a serious expression.
"You can't fool me, you little prankster. I might just have to inform your guardian of your misbehavior; I don't have any real evidence, not yet, but… I just have this hunch."
Worst crossed one leg over the other, and rolled her eyes. "You don't have any proof; Misaka is innocent, you old lady! Go get the real bad guy!"
"In our friend's defense, Yomikawa-kun…"
"Protectron, you're getting your honorifics confused, again," Aiho chastised. "You've been living amongst us for this long; there's really no excuse. If you'd get that boy away from his computer for a few minutes, he might be able to teach you something."
"Apologies, Yomikawa…-chan?"
"Yomikawa-san will be..." Yomikawa Aiho sighed, and turned back to face the synthetic lifeform. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'd much prefer it if you referred to me as "Yomikawa-san", or, if you're more comfortable doing so, "Aiho".
Protectron shrugged, and stuffed its hands into its pockets, as it whistled; Worst thought it was actual whistling, at first, but she quickly realized that Protectron was just emulating the sound of a human whistling. "Water under the bridge! If I might continue, Yomikawa-san, I believe that, unless our friend can be found guilty through proper means, she doesn't deserve to be… grilled."
Aiho shook her head, and sighed in frustration. "Civilian volunteers…" Despite herself, Aiho found herself smiling awkwardly, as Protectron continued to whistle. "Worst, I've got my eye on you. If I find out you've been misbehaving, we're going to have a talk; you, and I, and your guardian."
"Tou-san won't do anything to Misaka; tou-san's a tsundere, and a big suck-up. If anything, tou-san will punish Misaka in a way that she enjoys, therefore nullifying the idea of a punishment! You're beaten on all fronts!" Worst gloated, as she folded her arms beneath her bosom, and held her head high.
Rising up, Yomikawa Aiho placed her hand on Worst's head, and ruffled her hair; Worst fought against the unwanted physical interaction, as her once-guardian chuckled. "Ruffian," she said softly, as she turned away from Worst.
"Protectron, ahead of us; I don't suspect terrorism, or anything of the sort. Still, if anyone's going to survive a trap, it's going to be you. I don't mean to sound like I'm throwing you to the wolves…"
The synthetic lifeform pulled one of its hands from one of its pockets, quite quickly, and raised it up, palm open and outstretched. 'Eyelids', made of the same metallic substance as the rest of its body slid downwards, blocking the light produced by its eyes, momentarily. "It's no trouble; I, Protectron, will find any and all traps, nefarious or otherwise. If it's… the other type of trap, there's not a lot I can do about that. That would be a hate crime; not that there's anything wrong with the other type of trap! Lovely people, I'm sure! I met a same sex couple the other day, in fact! We had a lovely chat! Wonderful folks! Anyhow, off I go!" The synthetic lifeform exclaimed awkwardly.
Aiho shook her head, as Worst cackled loudly. She'd lost her restraint at the synthetic lifeform's mentioning of "other traps". Protectron's elbows, and its calves began to glow blue, as it rose from the ground, completely silent. Oxygen in the air around Protectron was taken in, compressed by tiny turbines located within its calves, and elbows, then mixed with small amounts of internally-stored fuel, and then combusted. The synthetic lifeform rose up, until its two-toed feet were meters away from the heads of its Anti Skill compatriots. With a soundless burst, Protectron surged into the entrance of the underground mall; Worst's eyes followed the synthetic lifeform's movements, as best as they could. Its elbows seemed to be hollow, and glowed bright yellow, while there was a strategic, circular cut in the calves of Protectron's slacks, which made two glowing, hollowed-out circles visible.
"Way to send Dorkatron to do your dirty work; Misaka thinks she's beginning to rub off on you," Worst jabbed.
"He likes it, though," Tessou Tsuzuri spoke for the first time. Worst turned her attention to Yomikawa's right hand woman. Unlike most, Tsuzuri didn't shrink beneath Worst's glare. "I think it makes him feel accomplished, and, we've been trying to embrace civilian volunteers. It's symbiotic," Tsuzuri explained.
"Shouldn't Dorkatron be trying to kill us all with a robot army? Ranting about people being disgusting and stupid? Misaka's noticed that he's never even complained about "strings". Ah, who cares? Misaka doesn't. Misaka just wishes her idiot friend would hurry up," Worst commented.
Aiho turned to Tsuzuri, who raised an eyebrow, and shrugged awkwardly.
Kakine Teitoku's airborne Observer Unit buzzed around him, as it chirped excitedly. To any lingering humans, it would've sounded like nonsensical gibberish; but to Teitoku, coherent explanations were formed.
"Meep! Daddy, I find the evil one! Take you to the evil one now, yes?" The Observer Unit inquired, as it landed happily on Teitoku's outstretched fingers.
"If you would, I'd be grateful," Teitoku replied, as the Observer Unit landed atop his head. It placed its sharpened limbs against Teitoku's head, and dug them through his hair, and into his scalp; this caused Teitoku no physical pain. The Observer Unit's vision, memories, and knowledge became one with Teitoku's own, and, before him, a dull, smoke-like red trail formed. It took a right turn down a nearby hall, one that Teitoku, carried by his wings, followed. "The evil one has caused much trouble, daddy; we stop him, yes?" The Observer Unit asked.
"Evil" might be a bit of a harsh word, my friend. I would use a softer term, such as 'misunderstood', or 'impish', to describe him," Teitoku replied. Flashing past a pair of bathrooms, male and female, as well as a private breastfeeding room next to either bathroom, which his eyes looked to, as he paid mind to the existence of his own 'children' briefly, before he returned his attention to his task at hand.
For some time, the red trail continued. Teitoku turned corners, made zigzags, and, if the physical trail wasn't enough, he could've simply followed the sprinkler systems that'd been triggered. Teitoku created a small 'tent' of Dark Matter to keep his tiny companion dry, and placed it over the Observer Unit's form.
"Thanks you, daddy! Dry now!" The Observer Unit happily chirped in response. Kakine Teitoku allowed himself to smirk thinly, before his lips curled back into a determined frown.
Minutes passed, and, encouraged by the Observer Unit, who insisted that he and it were traveling in the right direction, Kakine Teitoku pressed on. The underground mall was beginning to seem less like a shopping center, and more like a labyrinth, where some terrifying beast would be kept.
Finally, after a fairly long, and particularly irritating search, the trail provided by the Observer Unit came to an end, as it detached itself from Kakine Teitoku. It buzzed around the Dark Matter user's head. Oblivious to their presence was the apparent mastermind of this insidious plot; soaking wet, humming quietly to himself, Yamashita Junichi walked.
Kakine Teitoku unmade the 'tent' that he'd provided for his Observer Unit, and, with a gentle pat, he sent the Unit on its way. Taking a breath, Kakine Teitoku performed a series of calculations within his mind. Ideas, and theories of what his predecessor might've done in such a situation presented themselves, but Kakine Teitoku ignored them, as he always did. The 'rhinoceros beetle' had worked for a decade to turn the identity of Kakine Teitoku, the Dark Matter user, the second ranked level five, into a heroic one. The 'rhinoceros beetle' wouldn't allow such work to be squandered.
"You've done enough, here. Surrender, stop this idiocy; what purpose do you have?" Kakine Teitoku demanded.
Spinning on his heel, Junichi's eyes widened, slightly; before his lips could part, he prevented them from doing so. Yamashita Junichi had stood before Accelerator, the number one ranked esper in Academy City, and had held his instinctual terror in check on more than one occasion. He would hold himself together again. He'd never show fear towards another person ever again. Whatever this strange, green-eyed, white existence was, he wouldn't let it see his fear, even if he had to acknowledge that fear was present.
"Okay, I get it. This is Academy City, I should be used to this sort of thing, by now. I've seen a weird-looking girl with fucking pins in her face, of all things, more than once in fact, going to go out on a limb here and assume it was the same one, and a weird mummy-man that looked like he… it… they, fuck it, it just stepped out of its local Illuminati blood sacrifice club, but this is just too weird. Are you even human?" Junichi inquired.
"In a manner of speaking," Teitoku replied, as his feet touched the ground. The heels of his pointed dress shoes clacked against the floor, the sounds of which resonated in the relative silence of this hallway of the underground mall. "I don't intend on harming you. I'll restrain you, if I must, but no harm, lasting or otherwise, will come to you. Considering that we've only just met, it may not be worth all that much, but, you have my word… I won't harm you, but I will stop you."
"I've always wanted to be the bad guy; well, I mean, not really. Did you ever hear about the level zero who punched Accelerator-san's lights out? Nobody even knows how they did it… I'd rather not be hit by that. I've heard the level five, Mental Out's married to a level zero, but… that can't be true," Junichi rambled. "Okay, that's enough. Friendly fight? You against me? No hard feelings, right? Loser buys the winner a drink. I'm just trying to have some fun today; you know?"
Kakine Teitoku found himself smirking, slightly. His cheeks rose up, and he blinked. The young man seemed to mean well enough, for someone who had inconvenienced an entire shopping mall. Teitoku considered, for a moment, that inconveniencing them was all he'd done. All things considered, it was a harmless practical joke. A mean-spirited one, but harmless, at least on a physical level.
"I have heard about "that level zero." They're quite the individual; they're the subject of many a rumor, some of which are truth, and some of which are pure fiction. So much has swirled around this… mysterious identity, "that level zero". No one knows their true name, or their face, it seems, yet they've done the unthinkable, time and time again.
"But, pardon me. You requested a challenge of me, and I so rudely got sidetracked. If out of nothing but wanting to atone for my rudeness, I accept, so long as, should I emerge the victor, you'll solemnly swear to stop this mischief of yours."
Junichi smirked, and, from the palms of his hands, embers began to take flight. "Alright, works for me. I think I can roll with this. Rude? Nah, don't worry about it, I wouldn't mind talking about the subject another time, actually. Someone, or, something? Don't really know what you identify as, like you must know a lot about the weird shit that goes on around here."
"A moment," Teitoku spoke. "In order to prevent property damage, I'm going to box us in. This will only take a minute."
From Kakine Teitoku's outstretched fingertips, long, string-like globs of Dark Matter began to fly. With perfect precision, Teitoku began to plaster the walls, ceilings, and the floors beneath he and Junichi's forms with white, nonexistent Dark Matter. Clumps of Dark Matter merged together, and crawled towards one another on the walls, and strung themselves together on the ceilings.
Meters of the hallway, from one end to the other, were plastered with Dark Matter, until, as Kakine had stated, the two were boxed in. Walls formed at either end of the hallway, and, somehow, despite the fact that the synthetic lights of the underground mall's ceilings had been blotted out, light still shined into the espers' enclose without issue.
"Okay… suddenly feeling unsure about myself, if I'm being honest. What even is this stuff? Going to avoid making the obvious 'it's semen' joke. I feel like a child just for thinking about that," Junichi admitted.
"In a way, it's similar, though only in the sense that, to a degree, it contains the seeds of life that can potentially bloom," Teitoku explained. "I'll be striking first. Prepare yourself."
"Thanks for the heads up; I expected you to just kind of… blast off. Seriously, that's cool of you," Junichi responded. The crackling, twisting embers in his hands, with a series of mental calculations, became monstrous, roaring pillars of flame. Kakine Teitoku gave an impressed nod, and, propelled by a single beat of his wings, he lunged, with his arms outstretched, glaive at the ready.
Junichi planted his feet against the soft Dark Matter beneath him, and, empowered by his will, his pillars of flame were lengthened, increasing in their width from his palms. Clinging to the nearby wall of Dark Matter, Kakine Teitoku fluttered out of the way of both, and, willing the serrated, bladed tip of his glaive of Dark Matter to become blunt, soft and harmless, he struck from the side. The weapon practically squeaked as it struck Junichi's hip, knocking him away, and disrupting his pillars of flame. Junichi bounced harmlessly against the soft wall of Dark Matter, and his the equally soft, almost squishy floor beneath him. He bounced against it once, then twice, before he managed to get to his feet.
"Alright, okay, yeah! That was cool, right on. Going to try and get those wings off you; I mean, unless they're, y'know, part of you, in which case, forget I said anything," Junichi rambled, as orange, crackling flames began to crackle around his hands.
"I welcome you to try!" Teitoku replied heartily, as he took flight. Junichi kept himself moving in order to avoid being a sitting duck, and observing his surroundings, and, more importantly, attempting to find some sort of weak point in his friendly foe, he began to contemplate. The white existence had manoeuvred around Junichi's pillars fairly easily, so, this foe quite obviously had agility on his side.
A lightbulb lit up in Yamashita Junichi's mind's eye, and, an idea formed; he barely had time to execute it, however. Kakine Teitoku was upon him. From Teitoku's fingers, globs of Dark Matter spewed onto the ground, and, as it being spun and moulded by the hands of an invisible potter, it began to take form. The device being formed by Teitoku almost resembled some sort of turret; it had three legs, which supported its 'head'; circular in shape, and with a circular barrel that almost looked as if it'd been made out of balloons, the turret's head began to glow green, as it clicked into action. With blinding speed, the turret's barrel followed Yamashita Junichi's movements.
"You can just MAKE things? Things that actually WORK?! That is… that's so cool. What else can you make?! Anything?! Hahaha, man, that's so COOL!" Junichi exclaimed excitedly.
He suddenly became less excited when the turret began to fire a consistent stream of soft, and harmless, but annoying orbs of Dark Matter at his form. Its accuracy was without rival, at least in this situation, and even when Junichi loosed a torrent of twisting, roaring fire upon the turret, and the orbs it fired, the device simply regenerated, and shrugged off any damage it received.
Distracted by the antagonistic turret, Yamashita Junichi never saw Kakine Teitoku's assault coming. The Dark Matter user's glaive crashed against his chest, and, with considerable force, knocked him off his feet, and against the soft, bouncy floor of Dark Matter.
"Perhaps, a little bit impish of me, I must admit; but you seemed to be enjoying yourself," Teitoku laughed. Junichi rose up, and smirked, chuckling with genuine mirth.
"Impish?" More like dickish, but, that's cool; there's something I've been wanting to try out, to be honest, and there really isn't a better time. It's something I've been practicing. I'd like to see it gain some practical use. More of a self-defence mechanism than anything," Junichi commented, as he recovered from the blow.
"Be my guest."
Junichi concentrated, and, with some effort, began to perform the calculations, and, more importantly, the sub-calculations required for this particular technique. Directing the fire produced by his Personal Reality towards his own body, Junichi's calculations came to a close, and, holding them in place within his higher mind, the crackling, orange fire held in the palms of his hands rose up, and swirled around him. It enveloped his entire form; from the top of his head, to the bottoms of his shoes, Junichi was encased in a protective suit of surging, roaring flames.
"You're certain that you'll be alright?" Kakine Teitoku inquired, worriedly. He raised a hand to his chin, and observed the burning man before him. Though Junichi didn't answer, he raised a hand, and gave the Dark Matter user a thumbs up. Slowly, and with great caution, Junichi began to walk. His body appeared to have grown considerably larger, and quite plumper – Teitoku reasoned that his foe had ensured that a few feet worth of space was between him and the flames.
With a beat of his wings, Teitoku spun, as he performed a nosedive, glaive at the ready. Fiery hands held apart at his sides, the burning man that Yamashita Junichi had become hurled at Teitoku two roaring plumes of fire, both of which were avoided. Another set of plumes were hurled by the slowly moving Junichi, and then another, as Teitoku closed the distance between them, only being struck by the final two plumes. His body was charred by the plumes, though, protective globs of his Dark Matter quickly suffocated them, and his body rejuvenated, much to the surprise of Yamashita Junichi who, unable to voice his shock, simply responded by attempting to pick up his pace, despite his clunky flaming armor.
Kakine Teitoku's turret sprung into action; from its barrel, a constant stream of Dark Matter orbs began to pelt Yamashita Junichi's body. Though singed upon impact, the orbs did manage to penetrate Junichi's flaming armor, and continually pelted him, dissipating into nonexistence as they did so. Teitoku landed before Junichi, wings retracting into his back, as Teitoku swept the pyrokinesist off of his feet with a swing of his glaive. Tendrils of Dark Matter emerged from Teitoku's form, and grasped the glaive in their firm, sure grips.
His calculations disrupted by the blow, Junichi's armor of flame had dissipated. Though the Dark Matter beneath him had absorbed what would've been a painful blow, the pyrokinesist still rubbed his forehead as a headache formed.
"Yep, you're tough. You, are, tough shit. My dearest thanks, oh mighty one, for not, you know, just killing me on the spot… unless that's the final step of your evil plan," Junichi commented.
"No evil plans, here; but we did have an agreement, did we not? I believe your 'criminal' career has come to an end," Kakine Teitoku stated, as two tendrils of Dark Matter gently lifted Junichi to his feet, before they returned to their creator's side.
"Yeah, I guess we did, didn't we? Alright, yeah, no problem. I agree. Pinky swear?" Junichi mockingly asked, as he dusted himself off, starting from his shoulders, and ending at his waist.
"I'll take your word. Don't think you can double-cross me, either," Teitoku smirked, as the Dark Matter around the two began to fade, revealing the underground mall beneath, "I have eyes everywhere. It's my duty to protect Academy City, and all who call this place home; that includes you. Should you need me, simply call out for the aid of the rhinoceros beetle, and he'll come."
"Listen, man… I do some… private things, in my alone time. Could you, not spy on me? Any other time is pretty much perfectly acceptable," Junichi grumbled, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, and, turning away, offered a wave. "Seriously. I close the blinds for a reason."
Yomikawa Aiho and Tessou Tsuzuri, with their juniors behind them, scouted the underground mall's halls, which were slowly being repopulated, after the internal downpour that they had been subjected to. Shops were beginning to re-open, and, as they 'secured' the food court, Tsuzuri turned to her Commander.
"Yomikawa-sensei, mall security seems to have everything under control," Tsuzuri pointed out. Indeed, the underground mall's security force seemed to be having few issues with keeping the situation under control. Those that were in the food court were ensuring that things remained orderly, as food vendors began to re-open their shops, and the lines that had been disturbed began to reform. Though they weren't aware, some distance back, Climaxxx had re-opened for business, its proprietor eager for potential customers, preferably of the opposite gender.
"If we can find Protectron, and get a report from him, we can finish our rounds, and leave the situation to… local law enforcement. I can only assume that, in the initial panic, Anti Skill was called by a distraught civilian who thought themselves to be in the midst of a terrorist attack," Aiho explained, to which Tsuzuri found herself nodding in agreement. Producing her P-Phone Sx, she enabled the 'radio' function, and attempted to contact the synthetic lifeform who often chose to ally itself with her cause.
"Protectron, come in. It's Yomikawa. Status report, please?"
"Oh, hello, Yomikawa-san!"
Aiho began to grit her teeth when she heard what sounded like the blips, bloops, and loud, obnoxious ringing of arcade machines; she could even hear the pre-recorded lines some of said machines would shout in order to entice potential players to spent their hard-earned cash. Not helping Protectron's potential case was the symphony of excited yells in the background.
"Protectron… where are you?" Aiho inquired, attempting to keep her cool.
In a certain darkened arcade, somewhere within the winding halls of school district seven's underground mall, lit only by strobing lights that slowly transitioned from blue, to green, then to red, and, finally, to white, before the cycle began anew with blue, a certain synthetic lifeform was squaring off against two oddly-garbed individuals.
The game was quite simple; it involved using a bright green, but rather realistic-looking assault rifle peripheral to blast away zombified corpses, in a dull, moonlit graveyard setting. Swarms of bats would occasionally flutter past the enormous, dark yellow moon, and creeping, wriggling moss danced across the tops of damaged gravestones.
"This is absolutely unfair! There is no way that I could possibly best this… golem! Not to mention that I've never wielded a firearm!"
"Don't hate because he… it… clearly has more experience points than you! Still, my enemy is pathetic."
"Fall to me, strangely-clothed people! You cannot defeat Protectron!"
One of these individuals was a drop dead gorgeous young woman, who had the mannerisms and attire of a princess. Shoulder-length, curly blonde hair adorned her head, as did a white tiara. Her skin was white, pale, and very smooth-looking. The young woman possessed bright, big greenish-blue eyes. Over her body, she was clad in an ornate, knee-length, frilly dress, and a pair of shining, jewel-encrusted stilettos.
The second of these individuals, if Protectron didn't know better, it would've thought to be a female; though smaller in stature than most, he was a young man of considerable spunk, and seemed to be easily excitable. His hair, like his compatriot's was golden in coloration, though his was much longer. It fell to his back, and, its bangs were side swept. He was dressed in a skin-tight, golden hooded jacket, and a pair of black sweatpants, with golden stripes that ran along their thighs, and down to the bottom of their legs. As if to purposefully clash with the golden and black motif, he wore chocolate-colored, tightly tied up work boots.
All three of the individuals in question were quick in their movements; Protectron and his second foe appeared to be tied in their speed, though, to onlookers who had gathered around the odd sight before them, Protectron's arms seemed to be moving slightly faster, though this could've simply been an illusion; to some onlookers, the synthetic lifeform's arms moved so fast, in fact, that they looked like a blur. Three dimensional models of zombified corpses fell to the trio's onslaught, as each continued to rack up points, and gained power-ups.
"PROTECTRON!" Yomikawa Aiho's voice roared in Protectron's thoughts; such was the downside of having cellular communication abilities built into one's head.
"Ah, yes… forgive me, Yomikawa-san; I am, err, ensuring that civilians are… err, protected," Protectron rambled, distracted by the great, fifty-inch screen looming in front of it.
"Protectron; I will find you, and though you don't have ears, I will drag you back with me. Better yet, I'll tell that Saten you're so fond of that you've been misbehaving…"
Though Protectron had no real reason to fear its temporary superior, the synthetic lifeform shuddered, slightly; when Yomikawa Aiho was enraged, she was a terrifying sight, or, in this case, sound. Moreover, the idea of being exposed to "her" as a no-good slacker was a truly terrifying one. Jamming its plastic weapon back into the holster that was attached to the arcade machine, Protectron shrugged its shoulders in exasperation.
"You win this time, but I, Protectron will return, and when I do, we'll settle this, once and for all!" the synthetic lifeform snarled, as it pointed a finger at the two oddly-garbed individuals.
"You have considerable experience! I look forward to beating the shit out of you, and taking it, golem! I, Thor, will utterly defeat you!" The young man proclaimed.
"Please…" the young woman sighed, as she hung her head in embarrassment. Her head suddenly snapped up, as she realized what he'd said, in Academy City, the City of science, skepticism, and, more importantly, a City that was on the "Other Side". Pupils shrinking, the young woman's head whipped to one side, to face her companion.
"Thor? Son of Odin and Fyorgyn, god of sky and thunder? Impossible! The stuff of mere myths, tall tales told by Scandinavian wanderers, in an attempt to explain natural phenomenon around them!" Protectron commented, as it swivelled its head to one side on its thick neck.
"Ah! We're… we're role-players. We are very dedicated to the, hm, characters we role-play as; my close friend, here, role-plays as the "character" of Thor! I, on the other hand, role-play as the "character" of… Cendrillon! We don't often break character, you see, golem!" Cendrillon explained, as sweat began to drip down her forehead. She forced a smile, but she felt the corners of her lips shaking, as it threatened to falter and expose her charade.
Protectron shook its head, and shrugged indifferently. "Good luck with that, then!" The synthetic lifeform took its leave, each step producing a soft, mechanical hum.
"You… are an idiot, a blundering simpleton, an imbecile." Cendrillon hissed, poised to violently slap her compatriot, who reeled.
"How is this my fault?! It was an honest slip-up! I don't have experience with THIS!" Thor cried, as he fled from the raging Cendrillon. Onlookers, three of whom took the duo's spot at the Zombie W machine, broke out in laughter, speaking of "tsunderes" and "cute girls".
All except for one young man in particular. To this young man, what had transpired was blasphemy, a swift, insulting slap to the face; the fetching young woman hadn't even spared him a glance. Even in a locale such as an arcade, HIS arcade, he was dressed to impress, as he always had to be ever since he had been "infected"; he sported a tight-fitting, dark suit jacket, which was accented by dress pants of the same coloration, and a pair of brown leather shoes, which wouldn't have looked to be out of place in a business environment. This young man's name was Osamu Yuki, better known as the Harem King. Though he had no knowing of it, he had become the newest Host of the once-hostless Kami Disease.
"King! Whatever could the problem be? You look so distraught!" One of many young women who gathered around him pried, a worried expression on her face. She hovered around the Harem King, as if she were a fussy maid.
"Distraught? No. I'm just frustrated. MY arcade is usually ripe for the picking; today, the one day I decide to personally show myself, and the only potential dick toy doesn't even look in my direction. Unthinkable," Osamu, the Harem King replied.
"Let us take care of you, King!" Another exclaimed, as she clung to his arm, short brown hair brushing against him. Osamu cringed. They were all so servile, so willing, so eager. It made the Harem King sick. These cows would bend over at a moment's notice and take him. Why? Because he'd saved them? Surely, they had some dignity? Some sense of pride? They practically objectified themselves. Still, pleasure was pleasure, even if it came from unthinking mules. Wordlessly, the Harem King snapped his fingers, and his subjects stood at attention; he saw their chests move as they did so. To Osamu, their bosoms flopped about like water balloons pinned to wooden boards. As the Harem King took his leave, his "herd" of handmaidens followed.
Misaka Worst, who had laid herself out on the bench she'd been sitting on for what felt to her like hours, had the sun she'd been bathing in blotted out, by a rather exhausted-looking pyrokinesist, who loomed over her.
"Minion! You've kept Misaka waiting!" Worst exclaimed, as she sprung up; her forehead nearly crashed against Junichi's own.
"Yeah… Ha. Do I ever have a story to tell you, holy shit," Junichi mumbled, as he rubbed the back of his neck; by this point, it was beginning to feel rather sore. "Also, what's in the bag?"
Worst shot up from her seat on the bench, stumbling slightly as she did so. As the blood drained from her skull, and sank back into her lower body's veins, equalizing in its distribution, Worst turned to face the worn-out pyrokinesist. "Nothing you need to know about, minion. Tell Misaka on the way; since her master plan has come to a close, PRANK no longer has a purpose in this place… we should give things some time to cool down, before we strike again!"
Junichi nodded reluctantly, as the duo began to walk; at this point, he just wanted to take a nap. Worst, on the other hand, seemed energetic as ever. With a wide, toothy grin, Worst had whipped her phone out, and she appeared to be typing something up. The pyrokinesist spared the device's glass screen a moment of attention, and saw that a memo app was open. Even then, not even a day after their great "attack" on school district seven's underground mall, Worst was planning. She truly was the "worst".
"So, I saw Anti Skill down in the mall. Do you think we maybe, you know, took this a little too far? Someone actually called Anti Skill, Worst. Someone thought they were part of some sort of… actual attack? I'm kind of feeling a bit regretful," Junichi rambled, to which Worst merely clicked her tongue, and wagged her finger in his direction.
"Misaka's disappointed, minion; you're going soft, like tou-san. Man up! They don't know our name yet, but word's going to start to spread. We can start leaving propaganda, minion! Stuff like "PRANK is watching!" or, "PRANK; Practically Rotten Always Never Kleptomaniacal!" Worst gushed, as she chuckled to herself.
Yamashita Junichi stretched his arms, raising them over his head. He didn't know what to think; his mission had been a success, on a technical level. Yet, he didn't feel successful, at least, he didn't anymore. The feeling of accomplishment had faded, leaving the pyrokinesist feeling rather contemplative. "Do we even know where we're going? You said we should slow down for a bit, and I agree, but if we're not going to be PRANKing, what are we going to do? I'm easy, down for pretty much anything, here."
"What's there to really do? Misaka suggests that we return home, maybe to her residence, or maybe to yours. Misaka's… got some waiting to do, before her master plan comes to fruition, and Misaka doesn't want to spoil it," Worst explained, to which Junichi raised an eyebrow.
"How many 'master plans' do you actually have, Worst? You're worse than a supervillain," the pyrokinesist commented. Worst stuck her tongue out, and pocketed her phone.
Crossing the 'border' from school district seven, and into school district eight, the Kamijous could hardly tell the difference between the two districts. The couple knew that, at one point in time, school district eight had provided housing and other related facilities, such as food and clothing vendors for the City's teaching faculty; funnily enough, for the Kamijous at least, it had also once been the district in which many a married couple lived.
As with most, if not all structures in Academy City, most of the structures in school district eight were either bright grey, or dark brown in coloration, though there were some exceptions to this unspoken rule; a certain teriyaki stall was built mostly using wood and darker metal than what was usually used as a building material.
Kamijou Index had taken to climbing onto the back of Kamijou Touma, who she clung to, her arms and legs wrapped around his torso. The nun's chin rested on his shoulder, as she observed the sights and sounds around her, of people, of buildings, of animals, such as birds, and insects, some of which were small, white, and beetle-like in their shape. For Index, who had grown tired of walking, this was a much more comfortable alternative. Touma, who barely even felt Index's presence, was undaunted. In his left hand, he characteristically held Misaki's right, their fingers, as always, were interlocked. The breeze momentarily picked up, and passed over the faces of the Kamijous (with the exception of Othinus, who remained snuggled in Misaki's purse, still napping happily) as they walked. Misaki's bangs were gently ruffled, and strands of Touma's hair were lifted up from his head, before they soon found themselves falling back down, pulled by gravity.
As the breeze passed over her, Kamijou Misaki smiled contentedly, and took a deep breath; the sweet-smelling air caressed her nostrils as it was inhaled, and passed through her windpipe. Misaki didn't feel that it would've been possible to feel any happier, any more at peace, than she did at this moment. If she didn't have to watch where she was going, Misaki could've closed her eyes, and fell into the embrace of tranquility.
"Touma!" Index suddenly, and cheerfully spoke up, as she craned her head to look into the eyes of her guardian. Misaki turned to face her dependent, and offered her a warm smile, one which Index returned.
"Index!" Touma called back, the volume of his voice comically raised.
"You haven't been smooching Misaki for almost a half hour, so, can we run? Let's run!" Index suggested, before she gasped lightly. "Oh no, I hope I didn't jinx it…"
Touma chuckled quietly, shaking his head, as a small, mirthful giggle escaped from Misaki's closed lips. "Want to run, beautiful? If you can keep up, that is."
Misaki's eyes narrowed, and she smirked, as her starry eyes locked with her husband's own. With a crack of her knuckles, her well muscled arms were flexed. Thick, but distinctly feminine, and, more importantly to Misaki, powerful, her physique was years of dedication, and intense self-restraint made physical.
"Ready whenever you are, husband of mine. Index, could you hold my purse? I do not want Othinus to be shaken up, for all of our sakes," Misaki jokingly stated; Index nodded enthusiastically, as she took Misaki's purse from her, and slung it over her own shoulder. The couple nodded to one another, and, without so much as another word, they were off.
Touma's thick, powerful legs carried him quickly, as he swerved around an oncoming crowd; Misaki was already ahead of him. If Touma's legs had the advantage of being thicker, and capable of withstanding a bit more punishment, due to his body's bone structure, they were one-upped by Misaki's longer legs, whose graceful strides carried her longer distances.
Veering off the light brown, cobbled pathway, Misaki took to the grass, as Touma, who wore a giggling Index as a backpack followed behind. It seemed that, no matter how close he came to getting a few inches ahead of his wife, even if she was forced to swerve around passersby, she always took the lead back. Misaki never took her eyes off the road in front of her, ready to stop, or swerve at a moment's notice, prepared for just about any obstacle that could present itself.
"This used to be easier, I swear… you're getting… too strong…" Touma panted, as he and his wife were neck and neck; neither seemed to be able to outmaneuver the other, as they pushed their bodies to their respective maximum capacities.
"You will not be saying that this evening, I reckon," Misaki spoke as softly as she could manage, before she offered her beloved a sly wink.
"Trying to distract me, huh? Naughty… naughty. I'll win this thing, and then… well, I probably… won't do a whole lot, truth be… told," Touma spoke through slight panting, as Misaki broke their tie yet again. Veering from the grass and back onto the cobbled walkway, the couple could hear cheering from passersby; most were throwing their respective lots in with "Mental Out"; this didn't distress Touma in the slightest, even if it should have, to some degree. Instead, he was beginning to feel even more grateful, if such a thing was possible, that this wonderful, admired, goddess-like woman had chosen to spend her life at his side, forever faithful to him.
Filled with guts, as if the infinite resource was being poured into him from some outside source, Kamijou Touma pushed his body past the mental limits he placed on it. At first, he soared past Misaki, but, she quickly regained the lead; Touma was taken aback, despite himself. It'd been a while since he'd actually directly challenged his wife to any sort of physically exerting game. Held firmly and protectively in place by a specially designed sports bra, Misaki's bosom was anything but a bother, though, Touma had to admit that he liked to watch them bounce.
Shrugging those thoughts off, as he could pay more attention to them when their game had come to a close, Kamijou Touma continued his race. Misaki still remained ahead of him. She turned back, and flashed her well-known, cutesy pose mid-stride.
"Come on, Touma! I believe in you!" Index chimed from his back. "Misaki's tough, though… wow. It makes me remember when we first met, and she was so out of shape! Imagine that Misaki trying something like this, huh?"
"That's not something I can see… happening… Shokuhou… Misaki would've… made someone run the race… for her… or something," Touma chuckled through swift inhalations, and equally quick exhalations. "I like… it. Her strength makes her even… more attractive… beautiful!"
"Awww!" Index swooned, as her cheeks lit up; she nearly loosened her grip on Touma's torso as she squealed in happiness.
By the time the Kamijous arrived at Accelerator, Last Order's, and Worst's residence, the married couple had yet to break their tie; they'd crossed the area that had been roughly designated as the finish line in a tie. Coming to a halt at the enormous, dazzlingly gorgeous condominium that Accelerator and his family called home, the married couple had barely broken sweats. Misaki's rate of breathing was barely noticeably quicker than her normal rate, and, removing her hands from her hips, she took Touma, and, subsequently Index into an embrace, which her husband returned. Index returned the act of affection in spirit.
"That was so much fun! Thank you, baby, for the wonderful bout of exercise. I feel so… alive!" Misaki exclaimed, as she broke away, and puffed her chest out confidently. Touma allowed his eyes to fall south.
"It was my pleasure, beautiful. Staying in shape with you is great; we need to get around to doing stuff like this more often, we've been slacking off," Touma commented, as he extended his hand in an invitation. Misaki, smiling warmly, accepted, and took her husband's hand back into her own, where it rightly belonged.
Misaki's warm smile became a devious smirk. "You are aware that healthy, passionate sex burns up to two hundred and seven calories, every thirty minutes, no?" She inquired, as she licked her lips. Touma clicked his tongue repeatedly, in mock-disappointment.
"No good; your mind has been corrupted, Misaki-Sama; take it away, Index…"
"I will cleanse you of your sins, Kamijou Misaki!" Index exclaimed, as she leapt down from Touma's back. As she touched the ground, she shot a mock-angered pout in Misaki's direction, though it didn't last. The nun swiftly proceeded to break down into a giggling fit.
"Oh, my…" Misaki timidly spoke, as she reeled back, before she embraced her dependent; the nun returned her adoptive guardian's act of affection warmly, as her cheeks began to glow bright pink. Index's embrace tightened, and the nun closed her eyes.
"I love you, Misaki."
Something had happened; it felt funny to Kamijou Misaki. Not necessarily funny in a humorous way, but, funny in the sense that it brought an odd, but extremely warm feeling to Misaki's chest, and lower belly. Kamijou Touma told Kamijou Misaki that he loved her often, and she enjoyed each proclamation of his love more and more; each time he spoke his feelings, Misaki simply continued to fall head over heels for him. When Index said it, though, it was different.
Misaki quickly reasoned that it was a different kind of love.
"Index…? I-I love you too."
The young women soon found themselves being enveloped by a larger presence. The tall, comforting form of Kamijou Touma took them both into his arms, and they welcomed him into their embrace.
"Index, Misaki, you're both going to make me tear up, here… come on. We have company waiting for us." Index, eyes moist, and sniffling a couple of times took her place at Touma's right side, taking his arm in her own two arms, while Misaki re-took her husband's hand in her own, and nuzzled him, before they entered the lobby of the condominium, leaving the outside world behind.
"Accelerator? MISAKA MISAKA inquires, hoping that you're still awake."
"What, brat?"
"Nothing; MISAKA just wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep while holding MISAKA, MISAKA MISAKA explains."
Accelerator had never been fond of the idea of 'spooning'; the male involved in the act of affection was, under most circumstances, allotted the position of "the big spoon", which meant that he would have little more than a tingling arm and a mouthful of hair to show for it.
The position he found himself in was slightly different, to his relief. Sprawled out on his couch, Last Order had snuggled her form against his; though she faced away from him, he had only one arm laid out haphazardly over her waist, the other was safely hanging over the arm of the couch. Last Order had placed both of her hands on Accelerator's arm, and she would occasionally nuzzle him.
"Why do you keep rubbing yourself against me, goddamn brat? You're acting like the other brat," Accelerator complained.
"MISAKA… MISAKA doesn't really know why; MISAKA knows it feels good, but, aside from that, MISAKA doesn't know, MISAKA MISAKA confesses, as she tries to stop the behavior that annoys Accelerator to some degree," the clone replied.
"I didn't say you had to fucking stop. If it makes you happy, you can do it, I really don't care." Despite the harshness of his voice, Accelerator didn't really know what was happening, either, or what he was feeling. In a way, he was grateful that the Kamijous were visiting; at least they could help him understand what was happening to him, and what had been happening to him, if he could actually manage to spit it out.
It was then that his phone began to buzz in his pocket; it vibrated against Last Order's posterior, and, for a moment, her heart jumped into her throat, as her wild, wandering mind thought it was something else. Something, a fuzzy, tingly feeling that sat somewhere between shame and ecstasy coursed through Last Order as she quickly jumped up from the couch.
Producing his phone, Accelerator looked down at the device's screen; he identified, then, that it was "The Hero" who was calling. Grumbling, but smiling awkwardly despite himself, Accelerator answered the phone, and put the device on speaker, as he sat up straight, and leaned back on the couch.
"Goddamn hero. You've got some fucking nerve showing up here. Heh… how've you been?" Accelerator inquired.
"Certainly can't complain, Accelerator-chan," Touma replied; on the other end, he was snickering, as Misaki stifled a giggle.
"Hi, Saviors, Index, and the Redeemed One, MISAKA MISAKA exclaims, happily greeting her dear friends!" Last Order spoke enthusiastically.
"Last Order! Hey! It's awesome to hear from you again, it's been a while, hasn't it?" Touma inquired.
Misaki followed up Touma's inquiry with her own. "Hello, Last Order; how have you been? As my husband said, it is always lovely to hear from you. Othinus is, too, but she is asleep."
"Get your butt ready! We're going to get into… shenanigans." Index said with a hint of deviousness. Accelerator rolled his eyes, but chuckled quietly nonetheless. Despite the oddness of their day together, Last Order was ecstatic to see Accelerator in such a cheery mood. She loved it when he was happy; she wished she could always seem him like this.
"MISAKA is ready and willing, MISAKA MISAKA states, explaining the fact that MISAKA's prepared for just about anything!" Last Order confidently replied. "MISAKA is good, Saviors, MISAKA MISAKA explains to the Saviors, so that they don't believe themselves to have been forgotten or ignored by MISAKA."
"I'll let you in; get the fuck up here, and get this brat out of my hair," Accelerator commanded, before he ended the call. Pocketing his phone, he rose up from the couch, with the aid of his crutch, and looked to Last Order.
"Last Order, have fun. Don't let all this weird, fucked up shit get to you, we can talk about it… whenever. Whatever the fuck is happening, it's not going to change anything. Got it?" Accelerator spoke, in an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice; it took Last Order back, at first, but she soon found herself smiling from ear to ear. She took her guardian into an embrace, and held him tightly.
"MISAKA will… MISAKA trusts you, and MISAKA knows that she would rather be experiencing this… these feelings… with you, than anyone else in the whole, wide world, MISAKA MISAKA confesses."