Quick announcement: though I already made this announcement prior to the beginning of the narrative of a Certain Broken Testament's second chapter, I thought I'd do so again, just so this point isn't missed by any of you lovely folks. So, here it is again:
"Chappies", as I've become fond of calling them (again; thanks, 321jaz) aren't going to be slowing down; but they are going to be decreasing, slightly, in their wordiness. To adjust or more accurately, play around with my own prose is my goal, along with endgame goal of continually improving as an artist dabbling in this craft. I hope the same enjoyment can be found in these slightly shortened "chappies".
Quick thing: thanks, ThousandMastery, for following! It's great to have you on board. Thanks, DarkBetrayer for following! It's an honor to 'officially' have you along for the ride. Thanks, Demon Shadow5000 for following! It's great to have your support. Thanks, Kobi-Baidoo for favoriting! I hope you enjoy the ride.
As we always do, around this time, let's get into response time, shall we? What am I waiting for?
Guest: Gunpei's here. I can understand your confusion; but rest assured, he's much less… evil? Deranged? Sick? Than his counterpart from another time, and another place. Eccentric doesn't often equal dangerous. He's also tied rather deeply into this timeline's history.
DarkBetrayer: #canadalies. I know, I know. Our bacon isn't real, and we're too polite for our own good. We already know, anyways. We're self-aware, at this point, which makes us all the more terrible, I suppose. We're actively engaging in this Canadian behavior while aware that we are, in fact, being overtly Canadian. Is this the part where I make a Groundhog Day joke?
What was the intended purpose of this response, again?
Someone should. I'd watch it. If such a thing can't be done, I can certainly compensate by having more instances of everyone's favorite nun dropping sick rhymes, drunken or otherwise.
321jaz: chappy time, chappy time. As always, it's chappy time!
That famous Canadian hospitality could very much have to do with Accelerator's apparently negative outlook on the nation. Of course, Accelerator might not even mean a word of it; we all know how he is by now.
It's funny that you mention that. How would people react if they laid their respect visions upon the wax form of a stereotypically clothed 'Dracula vampire' complete with a receding hairline and big, gleaming fangs? Creatures such as the Sasquatch, and the "Mothman of Academy City" could very well be real if creatures such as Angels and vampires exist.
Of course, the City of Science wouldn't know anything about that. Right?
I hope you enjoy watching this eccentric, but mostly harmless Kihara Gunpei interact with the cast. There'll be a few surprises, here and there. That much, I think I can reasonably promise without unleashing any evil spoilers.
That you will. There's a lot of history there, and a lot of unspoken feelings, as well. You'd think, by this point, that such things would've been figured out. Of course, life isn't always that simple. A certain maid knows a lot about things not being simple.
That she just might be, right? There are few people who have a fascination with urban legends that could possibly rival that of a certain aero hand user.
As always, it's great to know that I've gained your approval! I hope to be able to continually do so, through subsequent chapters, even if said chapters are a bit shorter than usual. Change and improvement are so closely linked that, oftentimes, you can't have one without the other.
Whwsms: you could almost say that there are Infinite Possibilities.
I need to stop, and I know it. This is getting out of hand.
Actually, I can confirm that there aren't any links between the Mothman of Academy City and the paranoid Internet stream host known only as LeekMan. He's linked to something even more nefarious, if you can believe it.
You've always been good at this, but now you're getting better. You're definitely onto something, friend. Just hang in there; the answers, and the truth will be revealed in due time.
I, for one, am inclined to believe that, should a video of the performance of a certain drunken nun be leaked to the general public, or, at least, to the denizens of the Internet, Stiyl Magnus would likely suffer a legitimate stroke, followed by a cardiac arrest, or possibly more than once cardiac arrest, and then proceed to die, come back to life, and swear vengeance upon "the Imagine Breaker".
As disturbing as that sounds to me, and as intrusive as such a thing would be, just about anything is possible. Kumokawa Seria could very well be in possession of such explicit material. Who knows just how far she has taken, and obviously continues to take her "sightseeing"?
Cool-down mode will soon be followed up by some rather explosive action. Though said action will be taking place between another married couple, I think the action will, regardless, bring satisfaction to you wonderful people.
As always, it's great to know that I'm able to consistently gain your approval! I hope to be able to continue to do so, through subsequent chapters.
Anon Guest: I welcome your thoughts with open arms, friend!
If such a thing is true, how, exactly, the Kamijous would react to the knowledge that their "mating rituals" have been recorded is unknown even to me. How, exactly, would the Kamijous react to learning that these recordings, if they exist to serve, essentially, as a personal pornography collection for a certain former Beauty-Senpai? That, again, is a question which not even I can answer for certain.
Not yet, anyways. Tee hee.
You've got the right idea. Staying tuned will be your best bet; these details, and others, will be touched upon in due time. As always, time is the keeper of all answers.
That's great to know! With your approval confirmed, I can now begin working on adapting your wonderful omake into Times Change's narrative, to an extent. Once it rolls around, I hope you enjoy reading through it as much as I'll enjoy writing it! I feel that I ought to thank you for writing up the omake in the first place. It really was both a chuckle-worthy and heartwarming piece.
Kamijou Touma was puzzled. With Kamijou Misaki at his side, he looked downwards, his vision beginning to focus on a small display. Elevated from the floor, and propped up by a metallic beam, the display's surface couldn't have been any larger than a few feet in width, and in height.
Aside from large blocks of textual material, accompanied by dark and blurry photographs, there was something odd, indeed; sprouting from a circular hole in the display, there was a large, round-shaped clump of hair. Ashen, the clump almost looked more like a mess of dirt and weeds than hair from an animal.
Directly above the clump of hair, there was a smaller blurb of text. Highlighted, and bolded, the Japanese characters told a short story.
"Chupacabra hair sample: discovered in New Mexico, after wild specimen purportedly fled from a militia of gunmen who'd been hunting the specimen, which had mortally wounded their livestock, and had ransacked their respective lands. Though the specimen survived, this and other clumps of hair remained behind. Shrapnel has been removed for your touching pleasure."
Kamijou Misaki seemed to be fixated on reading one of the leftmost blurbs. Her eyes quickly scanned from one side of the blurb to the other, her arms folded beneath her impressive, perfect bosom; the bosom Touma had his wife's permission to do just about anything with.
Rather than distract his curious lover, Kamijou Touma took it upon himself to touch the clump of hair with his left hand. It certainly helped to distract Touma's own mind from his own 'dirty' thoughts.
The clump was rough to the touch, like a patch of brambles. Almost wiry, as well, the clump felt less like it was made up of a mess of hair, and more like it was made up of some sort of string-like metallic substance. The outwards appearance of the clump essentially debunked the idea of the clump actually being made up of a metallic substance, however.
"What does it feel like?" Misaki inquired, craning her next to her right. Her golden, starry eyes locked with Touma's own; for a moment, he was completely transfixed. Accelerator's words drifted into his subconscious mind, for a moment, before they soon began to fade away.
Just what was Kamijou Misaki even capable of? Perhaps she had greater abilities that she, herself wasn't even aware of. Or, alternatively, and much more realistically, perhaps her husband was just completely obsessed with his wife. Whatever the case, the butterflies that flew chaotically from side to side within his stomach were nowhere near ready to settle in for the night.
In fact, said butterflies were ushering in a new wave of "dirty" thoughts into the mind of Kamijou Touma. Though he attempted to fight them off, at first, he quickly found himself at their mercy. Touma gulped, awkwardly.
What Kamijou Touma did know for certain was that Kamijou Misaki was completely stunning; the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The longer he looked into her starry eyes, at her soft, kissable lips, and at her cute nose, Touma felt himself falling more and more in love, falling head over heels again and again.
Even if he'd been married to this woman for the last five years, Touma's love hadn't weakened in the slightest. On the contrary, it grew with every passing day he spent at her side.
"Uh," Touma eventually managed to spit out. "Sorry, beautiful. I got… uh, I spaced out. Tired, I guess. It feels wiry. It doesn't really feel like hair at all, but it looks like proper hair, I guess."
Standing up on her toes, Kamijou Misaki gently pecked her beloved on his right cheek, strategically avoiding his lips, and the desire to do so much more than just kiss him.
"Does it, now? I hope you are not too tired. I have many festivities in mind, and I would prefer not to wait until tomorrow night to engage in them," Misaki remarked, in a hushed tone.
"Festivities, you say, Kamijou-chan? I wasn't invited? What a shame, indeed. I've always been a fan of wholesome, family-friendly festivities."
Misaki spun on her heel. A few feet behind her, a giggling, blushing Othinus was mounted upon the shoulder of Kihara Kagun, who raised an eyebrow and grinned, as if to say "busted". Kamijou Misaki's cheeks were just as pink as those of she and her husband's "prisoner".
Kamijou Touma admitted defeat, and rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, with his right hand. In his left, he took the right of Kamijou Misaki, who, even in an ever so slightly embarrassing moment was more than willing to hold hands with her husband.
"Y-yeah, Kagun. Uh, festivities. It's, uh… yeah… it's, uh, not what you think."
"Kagun, it's exactly what you think."
The anti-Kihara specialist broke down laughing, suddenly, as if he'd heard the funniest thing in the world. Othinus seemed amused, but not quite as amused as Kihara Kagun was. She clung tightly onto his jacket, to ensure that she wouldn't be tossed down to the cold and equally unforgiving floor below.
The Kamijous soon found themselves joining Kagun in laughter, the awkwardness of being "caught" quickly shrugged off.
Accelerator's voice suddenly became audible, following a series of creaks. Kamijou Touma tilted his head to his left. From an opening in the museum's wall, which looked more like the naturally-formed mouth of a cave than any sort of manmade entranceway, Accelerator emerged. He looked drained, as if something within had seriously tired him out. Touma wasn't sure how he'd managed to miss it previously, but evidently he had done so.
After planting a short, but sweet kiss on his wife's cheek, Touma broke away, and approached the waddling Accelerator, who looked like he needed a nap, or a place to sit, at least.
"Accel, man, you alright?" Touma inquired, his tone of voice one of concern. Accelerator clicked his tongue, but didn't respond at first. Eventually, after a deep breath, he seemed to muster up the energy to verbally respond.
"Of course I'm alright," Accelerator responded. Stuffing either of his hands into his pockets, he tossed his head to one side, causing his bangs, and his hair's messy fringe to be tossed away from his face, however momentarily. "Kihara-kun is a fucking life-draining force. He's like a hyperactive little kid. It's like raising… I mean, fuck… it's like having the smaller brat follow me around all over again."
Accelerator lowered his tone of voice to a whisper before he continued to speak. Softly, he remarked, "not used to being out this much, either, hero. Brats usually only keep me out for an hour or so a day."
"I can confirm this," Kagun spoke. "Some things and some people never change. Gunpei-kun is among some of those people."
Academy City's "top dog" produced a soft, but drawn-out sigh. Closing the distance between himself and the display, which Kamijou Misaki, Kihara Kagun, and, by association, Othinus had crowded around, he stood to its left, and grunted, unenthusiastically.
Kamijou Touma was quick to join the crowd that'd formed around the display; his footfalls caused the flooring beneath the museum's carpeted surface to creak, and groan.
Taking to his beloved's side, he wrapped his right arm around Misaki's shoulders, and pulled her close. Either of Kamijou Misaki's arms were quickly placed around her husband's waist, as she lovingly nuzzled him.
Without warning, Misaki was in pain; her womanhood ached, suddenly. It was a familiar pang; one of primal desire. Misaki wanted nothing more than to become one with her beloved, her sunshine, her everything. Kamijou Touma's wife sighed, quietly, as her body awkwardly quivered. The temporary relief obtained within the lift car had passed, the storm resuming.
Kamijou Touma felt the tremors; partially, he experienced his wife's body vibrating against him. His grip only tightened around Kamijou Misaki's shoulder. He could barely keep his eyes from drifting downwards, towards her bosom. He wanted to grab onto her breasts, suckle and feed from them, as she patted his head, comfortingly.
"Chupa… what?" Accelerator rhetorically questioned, peering down at the display's text-covered surface. Kamijou Touma's illusions were swiftly shattered. "What the fuck is a "Chupacabra", and why the fuck is it so hard to photograph the stupid thing? These pictures look like shit. It could be a housecat, or a dog. It's probably intentional; harder to disprove a blurry-ass photo."
"That's the easy way out, Accelerator-san! Skepticism is the coward's way out! Question everything, and don't believe a word you hear! TRUST me!"
Kihara Gunpei had evidently left the "Mothman of Academy City" exhibit behind. Like Accelerator before him, he'd emerged from the entranceway that was much more like the natural mouth of a cave than any manmade structure. As well, he'd evidently caught wind of Accelerator's remarks. Unlike Accelerator, however, Gunpei looked ecstatic, even unstable.
"Housecats and dogs, Accelerator-san? Housecats and dogs don't pin goats down and suck every drop of blood out of 'em! Like little, furry vampires, they are! Probably related to the good Count, too! I bet…"
Gunpei's tone of voice became a conspiratorial one; his words suddenly became hisses, as he whispered. Closing in on the group that'd formed around the Chupacabra display, he lurched. "I bet they're the good Count's minions, drinking blood for him.
"Then, when they return to the good Count, he cuts them open, just slashes them, and drinks the blood they drank, second-hand! They're like little blood bags for him, I bet. I've got this all figured out, I do."
"Don't be foolish. Vampires don't exist. Merely a myth, created by the unenlightened to explain natural phenomenon around them, which at the time, the unenlightened had been incapable of understanding normally," Kihara Kagun lied.
Before opening her mouth to speak, Kamijou Misaki looked from one side of their group to the other. The younger couple that'd been present had apparently left; the married couple, Academy City's "top dog", the tiny, former Magic God, and the anti-Kihara specialists were the only individuals within the museum's walls.
"Accelerator-san is aware of… the other side, Kagun," Misaki stated, quietly, following her security check. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. Knowing just what to do, as always, Kamijou Touma's arm tightened around his wife's shoulders, bringing comfort back to her life once again.
Kagun produced a soft, curious "hmm". "Does he, now? Certainly, it makes one wonder how long the "other side" as you put it can hide their secrets from the world. At this rate, I'd believe that each of this City's strongest are aware of the truth of the matter, to some extent or another. It's starting from the top, then, and working its way to the proverbial bottom. Not quite how I'd guessed it was going to play out."
Touma softly cleared his throat. "Actually, I don't think Mugino-san knows; not sure who the number six is, so nothing there." That was a lie, however. Touma, through his wife, knew well enough who the sixth strongest esper in Academy City was.
Gunpei had quietly closed the distance between himself and Accelerator, who was distracted. Either he'd given in or he was bored enough to begin reading the blurbs of text on the display. With his chin cupped in his right hand, his eyes darted from one side to the other within their respective sockets.
"Chupacabra are the good Count's minions. His little helpers; don't know why they only live overseas… the good Count lives in Transylvania. Maybe they can FLY!"
Academy City's "top dog" clicked his tongue, and turned to face Kihara Gunpei, who was practically shuddering in anticipation. "Dracula's a fucking book, Kihara-kun. Fiction, made up by some asshole with a wild imagination. There's no Count Dracula. Monsters like him? Fuck yeah, there are; but not him, exactly. You need to get out more often. Find yourself a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, whatever. Hell, get both. Build a fucking harem or some shit. The hero almost did. If that goofy asshole can, you can."
Accelerator yawned. His lips parted, and for a few moments he loudly took in oxygen. Afterwards, Academy City's "top dog" proceeded to close his mouth, and blink moisture out of his eyes. "Oi, hero, fifth ranked, one-eyed brat. I think I'm going to head home. I need to crash for a while.
"Feel free to get the nun, whenever. It doesn't matter to me; she can stay, if she wants, for however long, I guess. The nun's nice to have around. Spiffs everything up. Can't believe I'm saying shit like this; you've really fucked me, goddamn heroes."
Touma produced a warm, friendly chuckle. Patting Accelerator's left shoulder, the Bearer of the Imagine Breaker took a moment to face Accelerator, the number one strongest esper and offer him a wide grin. "No worries, Accel, man. We must've wore you out. We'll give Index a call and see what's up."
Temporarily releasing her husband's waist, Kamijou Misaki, without hesitation took Accelerator into her arms, and held him close in a friendly embrace. Awkwardly, Accelerator's weak-looking hands managed to find their way to Misaki's back, where he gave her a grand total of three awkward, but friendly pats.
"It was wonderful to have you spend the day with us, Accelerator-san. I am grateful for every moment we shared; I believe we should do this again soon, sometime, whenever you are free or otherwise feeling up to a day out. When you next manage to find Last Order in a sober state, could you tell her that I love her? Could you also relay the same message to little miss Worst?"
"Yeah. I can do that."
"Thank you, Accelerator-san. Take care. Again, thank you for the wonderful day. It was splendid to have you."
Accelerator parted from Kamijou Misaki. He grinned, almost malevolently, in the direction of Othinus, who, still perched upon Kagun's shoulder stuck her tongue out, and closed her functioning left eye's eyelids. Kihara Kagun himself nodded in Accelerator's direction; the latter nodded back, a sign of mutual respect between two men who needed no words.
There were words to be exchanged between Academy City's "top dog" and Kihara Gunpei, however. The latter seemed to have become considerably less jittery, and could hold himself with pride, his back straightened. Again, Accelerator's hand was offered to Kihara Gunpei, who took it into his own, and thoroughly shook it.
"It was… uh, it was good to see you, Kihara-kun," Accelerator remarked, fumbling over his words. Releasing the "top dog's" hand, allowing it to fall back at its owner's side along with the arm it was attached to, Kihara Gunpei bowed respectfully.
"Likewise, Accelerator-san. Say, don't be a stranger! You should come over, one day. I'll get this one," Gunpei motioned towards Kagun, "and this one's "precious pookie-thing" together. It's hilarious to watch them fumble around! It's like watching ants, I swear it! If you leave them alone for long enough periods of time, they end up cuddling like a couple of LOSERS!"
It was Accelerator's turn to look in Kagun's direction. Raising an eyebrow, Accelerator folded his arms across his chest and clicked his tongue, obviously unimpressed. "You going to take that from him? Fuck him up. Kihara-kun's a little dinkledick. He won't hit you back."
"For now," Kihara Kagun answered, cryptically. "That I can confirm. A great and massive dinkledick; though I detest violence, I may just find myself having to resort to drastic methods."
Accelerator snorted. With that, he turned his back and raised his left hand. With it, he offered a wave, a singular motion. Quietly, Accelerator stepped through the entranceway, exiting the museum, and leaving those he knew behind.
As he began to walk downwards, carefully following the steps that lead back down towards the pedestrian-only roadway, he spoke, "catch you later, fuckers. Hero, fifth ranked, don't get friction burn."
Flicking his choker on, Accelerator, aided by the Misaka Network proceeded to manipulate the refreshing breeze, which buffeted him and blew his clothing about. Controlling it as effortlessly as the average person could control their own eyelids' blinking, Accelerator formed on his back four great, perpetually twisting tornadoes.
From the middle of his spine they sprouted, snaking, and snapping at the air, as if they were living things. They weren't; they were little more than extensions of his own power.
In the blink of an eye he was off; having taken to the skies, he was unable to see, and likely wouldn't have cared about the crowds of onlookers who'd witnessed the use of his ability, and his subsequent accent. Smartphones had been produced, pictures were being snapped, and videos were being recorded.
Within the walls of the museum, matters were much calmer. As if compelled, the crowds had attempted to follow Accelerator, even though he'd already vanished from sight. The little cottage-like tourist trap had been completely ignored by the adoring, or otherwise curious crowds.
"So, beautiful, anything else you want to look over? No rush or anything, I'm in no hurry," Touma spoke. Kamijou Misaki took her husband's left hand into her own right, and, walking side by side as equals, she led her husband to the back of the museum, where several additional displays were presented. Kihara Kagun, Kihara Gunpei, and Othinus remained as a group, continuing to observe the Chupacabra display.
"I, actually, am in something of a hurry," Misaki whispered. Her footfalls quickened, and Touma's did the same to ensure that he could keep up to his wife. "I am having such a good night with you, as I always do; you are the light of my life, my warmth, my blood, my everything.
"I want to make love to you, and I can barely control the urge to do so. I do not think that I will be able to persevere much longer. I want to push you up against a wall, and I want you to thrust into me, until you cum, and cum, and cum. Can you do that for me, husband? Can you fuck me good, and release all of that pent-up semen for me?"
The answer was one that immediately rushed into Kamijou Touma's mind, surging through his thoughts and emerging as a vocalization, harsh, but soft, barely-whispered.
"Yeah. I can do that, Misaki. Maybe… uh, maybe we should go… uh… now, maybe? I'm kind of on the verge of taking you to the nearest bathroom and… uh… I'm losing it too, beautiful. I'm losing it too. Do you think we have a problem? We're not… addicts, you think? This is… you know, wanting to fuck like animals all the time is normal? Right?"
"Yes, husband; sex is the most normal thing in this world of ours. Acts of intimacy are to be expected between two people who love one another, no?" Misaki reassuringly, rhetorically inquired.
Kamijou Misaki swiftly turned her back to the displays she'd been approaching; like clockwork, she spun on her heel. Touma, detaching himself from his lover, for a moment did the same. Her lips had curled upwards, forming a grin of wild anticipation.
Tossing her head back, Misaki, with her husband's hand back in her own, their fingers interlocked, proceeded to close the distance between herself and the entranceway of the museum. Kamijou Touma's boiling desire hadn't physically manifested itself; but it was, indeed rushing throughout his veins, threatening to burst forth at any moment and overtake his rational higher mind.
"Othinus? Will you be coming along with us?" Misaki softly questioned, as the married couple approached. Rather than sitting upon one of Kihara Kagun's shoulders, the tiny, former Magic God sat upon his head, with her legs casually folded inwards. Othinus leaned back, the palms of her hands pressed against the scalp of the anti-Kihara specialist.
In response to her "co-jailer's" inquiry, Othinus leaned forward, and rested her elbows against the scalp of her human steed. "That depends. Where are you going?"
"Home, actually; I thought, perhaps, you were wishing to stay with Kagun. It has been some time since you have rendezvoused, after all," Misaki answered.
Rising, Othinus extended either of her arms, and reached out towards her "jailers". Tilting her little head to one side, Othinus smiled as her cheeks began to glow bright pink. Her visible, functioning left eye became oddly moist; the married couple could just barely see its twinkling beneath the dull, synthetic light of the museum.
"Family," Othinus stated, simply. "I want to return home with my family."
A smile crept across the face of Kihara Kagun, who offered the tiny, former Magic God his hand. Pressing its upturned palm against the side of his head, Othinus carefully stepped onto it. Kagun proceeded to lower his hand away from the side of his head, just as cautiously as Othinus had stepped onto it.
Kagun, almost condescendingly, began to stroke the top of Othinus' head with the index finger of his available hand. "It's likely for the best; there's plenty of… history, that would very possibly be dredged up. Dark times, those. I much prefer the brightness of the present, old friend."
If the physical affection didn't feel so amazing, Othinus likely would've tried to bat Kagun's finger away. "You're correct, "old friend". Dark times indeed… you really do know how to treat a girl, though. Could you get behind my ears, quickly? Just once or twice…"
Kihara Kagun had half-expected Kihara Gunpei to suddenly attempt to snatch up Othinus for himself; thankfully, when Kagun craned his neck to the right, Gunpei's attention seemed to have been again claimed by the "Devil Monkey" display. Gunpei stood before it with his arms folded across his chest. Back and forth he rocked on his heels and toes, causing the floor beneath him to loudly creak.
"I believe this is yours," Kagun remarked with a chuckle. Extending his hand outwards, with Othinus standing in his palm, Kamijou Misaki quickly scooped the tiny, former Magic God up. Kamijou Touma grinned down at Othinus, who looked to him and stuck out her tongue.
For some moments, the quartet allowed a comfortable silence to descend upon them. For some moments longer, they looked to one another.
Eventually, the first movements were made. Kihara Kagun smiled warmly, and closed the distance between himself and the married couple. Spreading his arms outwards, he took both Kamijou Misaki and Kamijou Touma into an embrace, which was returned by both parties.
"It was splendid seeing you again, Kamijou-san, Kamijou-chan. It has been some time since we last spoke, hasn't it? If my memory serves correctly, it has been at least six or seven months," Kagun spoke, silently contemplating what was truth, and were false memories. "What did we even do?"
"Your best guess is as good as mine," Touma said, mid-hug.
"Five months, actually," Misaki corrected. "My husband and I, along with you and your… friend? Maria, we walked at the Nature Park. Ice cream, and the little dog. Does that manage to ring any bells, Kagun? I recall the little dog being quite fond of you."
Patting the married couple on their respective backs, Kihara Kagun broke the embrace. Gently, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He almost seemed to suddenly become awkward, especially in his posture, which began to slightly sag. Though his shoulders didn't slump, Kagun had quite obviously lost the air of self-positivity that'd been flowing invisibly around his form.
For a moment, his confidence seemed to have faded. Though his head hadn't physically looked downwards toward the floor, his eyes' vision was focused on it. "Ah, yes. You're correct, Kamijou-chan; I'm… I'm not quite sure as to how I managed to forget that. I suppose when one's mind is occupied by other matters, one's memories, no matter how fond are thrown to the wayside."
Kamijou Misaki made a bold move. Placing a hand on Kihara Kagun's shoulder, the wife of Kamijou Touma softly asked, "you are in love with her, aren't you? For the longest time, I've had the greatest feeling. You have never answered anyone truthfully, Kagun; perhaps not even yourself.
"You have a world of affection in that great, warm heart waiting to be given to someone. That someone is Maria. Kihara-san pokes fun, but even he can see it. There is no need to be ashamed of the truth. Maria is a wonderful woman, Kagun, and you are a wonderful man."
"She's right, you know; and I'm not just saying that, I swear," Touma added, chuckling lightly. "If you're feeling Maria, you should ask her if she's feeling you. If she is, get with her! You guys have known each other for a long time, and, Hell, you've got that chemistry so many people wish they had. It's not like she's "officially" one of your students anymore, right? No harm done. You're two adults, man. Nothing to feel bad about."
Kagun looked behind him once again. Kihara Gunpei seemed to remain distracted by another of the museum's displays. Looking upwards, his eyes were wide with awe as he absorbed every proverbial drop of textual information.
After softly clearing his throat, Kagun gave his answer. "You've caught me; really, it's been anything but hidden. There are several issues that would need to be addressed, first, but… there's little use in continuing to dance around the "big picture".
The voice of Kihara Kagun dropped, almost becoming a whisper. At first, he hesitated, stumbling over his words. He looked from right to left, and, after inhaling deeply, and exhaling just as deeply, Kagun spoke his peace.
"I… I am romantically interested in Kumokawa Maria. I have been, for some time. I still don't know if such a courtship would be right, or if such a courtship would even be possible… though not my first, I would like Maria to be my last, more than anything. There it is."
"Kagun," Misaki spoke, calmly, and with a comforting tone of voice, "there is nothing to be ashamed of." Kamijou Misaki removed her hand from Kagun's shoulder, before she took her husband's left hand in her right. "Love is a wonderful thing, Kagun. Don't be afraid of it. I am quite certain that Maria feels the same way that you do. How long have you both been dancing around one another? Does it not seem as absurd to you as it does to me?"
"Maria wants him! She wants him BAAAAAAD!" Kihara Gunpei exclaimed, apparently having caught wind of the conversation from afar. "This one's just chickenshit, and won't go after her. If I was in this one's shoes, I'd be thrusting into that at the first opportunity I was given. Alas, I'm forever trapped in this cycle of loneliness and suffering! I forgot my fedora, Kagun-oniichan! I'm such a FUCKING nice guy!"
Kagun glared a single dagger at the snickering Kihara Gunpei. As if he'd detected the glare aimed in his direction, Gunpei turned back; facing Kihara Kagun, Gunpei shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say "You know I'm right. What're you going to do about it?"
"I appreciate your kind and supportive words, Kamijou-chan," Kagun remarked after looking away from Gunpei, "and I'll take them to heart. As I said, there are numerous matters that would first have to be addressed, before a… well, before something like a courtship could be established. I'd also require plenty of time to think on the matter. It's… no small thing, you see."
Following some idle banter, the married couple and Kihara Kagun, along with Kihara Gunpei said their goodbyes. One final group hug, and a series of handshakes concluded their chance meeting.
As the married couple took their leave, Othinus, seated gracefully on top of Kamijou Touma's head turned back to face Kagun, and with her right hand she formed a circle. With her left, she repeatedly jammed her index finger into the curled fingers of her right, grinning like a tiny madwoman all the while.
Once the Kamijous and Othinus had left the museum, having stepped through the entranceway, and out of sight, Kihara Gunpei turned to Kihara Kagun, his eyes full of an almost predatory hunger. Kagun knew the manchild to be harmless, though the look in his eyes still sent an awkward and unfamiliar chill down Kihara Kagun's spine.
"The little girl is really cute."
"Gunpei. Don't start."
October 9th, 2014. 10:16 PM.
Floris had eventually managed to finish her drink, evidently; as Kamisato Kakeru's vision turned towards the former New Light operative, he noticed that her tall glass was empty. Floris herself leaned back in her seat, occasionally produced a soft burp. Her cheeks were bright pink, as was the tip of her nose. Floris seemed to barely be able to keep her eyes open. Awkwardly, they fluttered every so often, but never did they permanently close.
"So, uh… K-Kamisato-chan… I mean, Kamisato-san," Floris spoke up, groggily. She leaned forward, and produced yet another burp.
"What's it like where you live, huh? Or, you want to go back to talking about that one… animu? Heh, animu… it's funny, because the real word is actually 'anime'. What was that one? A Certain Enchanted Glossary, or something? Was it Glossary, or was it "Table of Contents"? I can't remember.
"Fuck, I'm tossed and tired. Could you not fuck with me? I d-don't want to be taken advantage of. It's happened before, guys are fucked up. You don't seem fucked up though. You seem like you're cool. I guess that's why I've been latching onto you. Sorry, by the way. Am I rambling? I'm pretty sure that I'm rambling. Again, s-sorry."
Kamisato Kakeru's Moose Knight Lager had some time ago been finished. Laying on its side against the surface of the table, it sat abandoned, and partially forgotten. Placing his hand comfortingly upon the shoulder of Floris, he offered her a warm and friendly smile.
"Breathe, Floris-san. I'm not going to hurt you. It's a shame that others have, but I'm not others; I'm me, and I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I'd never planned to; why would I? I'd literally have no reason to do so. Speaking of which, does the overuse of the word "literally" annoy you as much as it annoys me? It annoys me plenty. "Literally" should only be used when speaking literally, I think."
An intoxicated Floris had listened, patiently, as Kakeru began, and then quickly concluded his short-lived rant. Once he'd stopped speaking, she forcibly turned his face towards her own, either of the palms of her hands pressing forcibly against Kakeru's cheeks.
Mere inches away from his face, their lips only a fraction of an inch apart, Floris muttered "I'll figuratively bone you right here if you keep talking. You have the h-hottest voice, you know that? Just read entries from an encyclopedia to me while I suck you off.
"What's your place like? I want you to take me home; to your home. T-take me home and… just t-take care of me for a bit. It's not always fun being like this. I want to be t-taken care of."
Kakeru raised an eyebrow. Floris had quickly taken charge, and had climbed atop him. Sitting herself in her date's lap, she tossed her head to the side, causing her blonde hair to sway from left to right. Her hair's fringe was tossed about.
"Take care of you, Floris-san? What exactly do you have in mind? In truth, my living conditions might unnerve or otherwise disturb you, especially in your intoxicated state. I live with many people. Many women, all of whom are my equals in all ways. No one serves anyone else, unless they desire to. Still, these conditions are considered… taboo, by some, even with our equality considered."
Floris pecked Kakeru on the lips. Once, twice, then a third time. Her blush only deepened, turning from bright pink to dark red. "Yes, t-take c-care of… me. Hug me, talk to me, j-just treat me r-right. Not like other g… g-guys. I s-sound really fucking needy, don't I? Fuck, this is e-embarrassing.
"I'm n-not usually like this. I'm such a lightweight… and you, you make these things come out of me, all this weird stuff, these feelings. You always have… even if you do some fucked up shit, even if you're headstrong and don't think before you act, even if you can really, really, REALLY piss me off, some days… I'm so happy right now. I'm always happy when I'm around you."
Kamisato Kakeru found himself playing outside the rules of his own game. "One step at a time, Floris-san. Easy. If you'd like to spend the night, you need only ask; but I won't do anything physical with you. I absolutely refuse. You're intoxicated, and you can't properly give consent to do engage in sexually explicit activities."
"Are you even real?"
The question was blunt, and simple. Floris looked deeply into Kakeru's eyes. Her big, blue irises and the pupils within were completely focused on him. She ran her fingers over either of Kakeru's cheeks, shuddering in pleasure as she did so. "You're not just saying that, are you? I-I've… I've heard it before, you know.
"I don't w-want to drag my b-baggage along, I really don't… but… there's some fucked up history here. Not here as in here but… fuck it, I… I guess I thought that I'd never get this far; now that I'm h-here… I'm kind of scared. It's worse because of how strong everyone knows I am, we are… we were; New Light, that is. They think strong people can't h-hurt, like everyone else, but we can. L-Lessar is living proof."
Kakeru suddenly raised his right hand, palm facing towards Floris. After softly clearing his throat, he stated, firmly and with the utmost confidence, "I, Kamisato Kakeru solemnly swear not to harm you, in any way. Should I do so, my very life will be forfeit."
"That's a little extreme," Floris remarked. "It's hard, you know? After you've been f-fucked over a bunch of times, it's hard to trust people."
"Floris-san? What happened to you?"
That was a question that Floris didn't want to answer. She inhaled, deeply, and exhaled with caution. "It's not all that big of a deal. I'm just s-salty. I was l-lied to, and c-cheated more than once. It's been hard to… t-trust guys since then. It sucks. I want to trust you, but it's not easy. I think I can, though. I think you're alright… I mean, I could be totally wrong, and I could get fucked all over again; but w… w-what's life without c-chances, right?"
"Take some time to think about the matter, Floris-san," Kakeru suggested. She'd hardly moved anywhere from him; still she remained sitting in his lap. Her powerful, musclebound arms had wrapped themselves around either of Kakeru's shoulders. Between her fingers she twirled individual strands of his hair, some of which was sprouting from the back of his head, and some of which was close to his head's crown.
"I could always return you to your own temporary lodgings, if you're not comfortable with taking public transportation. It's entirely up to you."
For a split second, Floris looked at Kamisato Kakeru like he was completely insane; but soon enough, her facial expression returned to one of relative contentedness. "No way am I bussing, not like this. I probably can't even stand up right now. Do you have any idea how much of a challenge it was to get myself like this? My legs feel like jelly. What was the percentage of alcohol in that drink, anyways? M-must've been a…"
Without warning, Floris went in for round two. Her lips were suddenly pressed against Kakeru's own. In went her tongue, slithering and slapping against her date's own. Floris' face began to glow bright red as she, in an intoxicated flurry pushed her date over, against the surface of their booth's seat. Violently, Floris began to grind her body against Kakeru's own. Struggling to hold back ecstatic moans she pushed back when Kakeru pushed against her.
"Floris-san," Kakeru quickly remarked, managing to pull his face away from Floris's own, "this isn't the time… or the place. People are going to be looking."
The former New Light operative seemed to drift back, awkwardly into the real world from whence she'd came. Quickly rising, Floris crossed her right leg over her left and sat upright, with her back straightened and her hands clasped in her lap. Nervously, she bounced her right foot up and down.
Kakeru hadn't been correct. Winner's was almost entirely empty; the only patrons that remained were even more intoxicated than Floris, and were laughing, loudly and obnoxiously at something neither Floris nor Kakeru were aware of. They seemed to be laughing amongst themselves, rather than laughing at the two.
Kakeru's first instinct was to assume that he and his date were the subject of the groups' laughter. He even found himself grinning, awkwardly; it wasn't every day that something like what'd just happened could be seen so commonly, even in a seedy bar within the walls of an amusement park.
"Sorry," Floris muttered. "I'm sorry Kamisato-san. I… I d-don't know what happened. I w-wanted you. I s-still do."
"All's well," Kamisato Kakeru replied, calmly; he hardly looked like a man who'd just been completely overtaken, and then repeatedly kissed by an extremely attractive woman. Though his manhood stood erect, and at attention, Kakeru did his best to hide the bulge from sight by pulling his uniform's shirt over it. "I don't think this is a place for you, in your intoxicated state, however. I think this is something you need to sleep off."
"I live alone. I don't want to be alone yet… c-can I stay w-with you, Kamisato-san? Just for the n-night. I can crash in my uniform or something. Maybe I could bum a shower?"
Kamisato Kakeru's answer was produced before he even fully processed it. "Of course, Floris-san. My… fellows will be delighted to meet a new face." It was involuntary, a choice of words based more on instincts than of personal desire, or even of personal choice.
"I D-DON'T MEAN TO IMPOSE!" Floris almost shouted. That certainly got the attention of the other bargoers, for a short few seconds. The young man, Russ, looked up from within the kitchen, before he shook his head, muttering to himself as he continued to perform his menial duties. "It's… y-you know, this is the slowest I've ever m-moved with a guy before. Maybe I was the problem. Okay, w-well, if that's the case, I'm c-changing right now. Nice and slow. W-we can definitely just… be chill, right?"
Kamisato Kakeru nodded, yes.
"W-well, um, I'm ready whenever you are. To pack up that is. No pressure! I'm not b-being too pushy, am I? I don't want to come off like that. Fuck I'm a mess."
Taking Floris's left hand in his right, he stepped out from the booth's seat, and stood protectively before it. Tilting his head to the side, Kakeru curiously raised an eyebrow, and produced a soft "hmm".
"Can you walk, Floris-san? If you'll give me your other hand, I can act as a support in case you stumble."
"I don't know," Floris admitted. There was that blush again; brighter than ever before, it was glowing bright pink across either of her cheeks. The tip of her nose, too had been afflicted. She offered Kakeru her free hand. Swiftly, and gently he took it into his own.
Carefully, Floris edged her way to the end of their booth's seat, wiggling herself from side to side, and using her legs to achieve limited locomotion.
"Slow, now," Kakeru remarked in a soft, almost fatherly tone of voice. The tone alone sent shivers up Floris's spine, as the urge to kiss his face off returned with a raging vengeance. "I've got you, Floris-san. I won't allow you to fall."
"This is so goddamn embarrassing, you know that? L-Lessar would have a field day if she found out about this," Floris whispered.
The former New Light operative carefully inched her way out of the seat, and, one foot after the other, found herself standing upright, the soles of her shoes planted with a firmness that surprised her against the floor. Kakeru released either of Floris's hands, before he stepped back some few feet.
He'd taken the lead. Turning his back to her, Kakeru began to slowly and almost cautiously walk away from the booth. With equally cautious steps, Floris followed behind.
Her vision occasionally became watery, and, more than once, her head randomly throbbed in rapid succession, before the pain faded, only to eventually return and continue the cycle.
"How are you feeling? Alright, I hope, all matters considered," Kakeru softly inquired. Having noticed that she was lagging behind, Kakeru slowed his footfalls considerably, and fell back to Floris's side. "Unfortunately, alcohol consumption often leads to the irritation of stomach lining."
"You're a regular walking encyclopedia," Floris joked. "I've got a bit of a headache… it's not constant, it comes and goes. That's really all there is to it; I think I just need to lay down for a while. L-look at me. This is a p-pathetic sight."
Something had caught Kakeru's eye; apparently, in her intoxicated state, Floris hadn't managed to capture the sight in her vision. The young-seeming man, apparently named Russ had emerged, and stood behind the counter.
With his right hand, he held the air, the outstretched palm of his hand hanging above his crotch; with his left, he repeatedly slapped the same mass of air, making all sorts of faces that Kamisato Kakeru had to admit were just a bit humorous. Russ stretched his lips, smiled madly, and then opened his mouth, as if in a state of shock, nodding his head repeatedly and mouthing the words "oh, yeah!"
Before Kakeru turned away, holding back laughter, Russ mouthed the words "fuck her!" Kakeru simply shook his head. Russ responded by shaking his own head disapprovingly, and lumbering into the back room behind the counter, returning from whence he'd came.
After a number of cautious, careful steps, the duo found themselves passing by the ever-classic cowboy statue; the rear end of it, at least. Kakeru shuddered at the sight of the thing, and tried to keep his eyes' vision as far away from it as he could.
"If Billy the Kid comes to life," Kakeru remarked, "I'll be sending him to a New World. No arguments."
"If "Billy the Kid" comes to life I'll eat my own panties," Floris spoke. She chuckled, softly, before she suddenly gasped. "O-oh my G-God. Where did that come from? I d-don't wear edible undergarments; I swear to God I don't."
"I believe you," Kakeru said. His mind had given in long before his body had; he released a chuckle of his own. "I'm not laughing at you, Floris-san. I'm laughing with you. That was an amusing thing to say."
Reaching out, Kakeru held open the first door, the inner door of the lobby, and then the second, the outer door of the lobby, indicating with repeated nods that Floris was to pass through before him.
Both young man and young woman stepped out into the open, leaving Winner's behind. The outer door, leading into the lobby closed shut by itself, after Kakeru had left it to its own devices. The breeze was cool, repeatedly pecking both of their faces with its soft, invisible lips.
Though the sky above had clouded over, blocking the duo's view of the stars, there was hardly anything to be seen; the night's darkness had fallen over the little island in the Far East like a blanket. Most songbirds had taken to their nests for the night, and, as such they didn't sing; the ravens who called "the Grand Kingdom" home had their own agendas, and worked when most slept.
"Where are we going to have to head? Are you… y-you don't mind me coming along, right?"
"No, Floris-san. I don't. You don't want to be alone on this night, and that's perfectly understandable. It's a normal desire to move closer to other people; it's something inherently human. This day has been a… different one, one which has given me far too much to think about. That aside, I see no harm in it. I don't mind your presence."
Floris inhaled deeply, and then exhaled for a while before she attempted to speak again. "Where are you, uh, you know, parked, Kamisato-san? In the front?"
In response, Kakeru shook his head. "No; there's a parking space just outside of this… Den of Debauchery. There might be more parking spaces behind each, or perhaps the parking space is unique to this section of the Den. A few minutes' walk.
"Fifteen minutes, maybe, at the absolute maximum. Though at our current rate of movement, it could take a short while longer. I suppose that isn't a problem. Take your time, Floris-san."
Floris smiled warmly, more to herself than anyone else. For some time, the duo walked quietly down the mostly-deserted streets of the Den of Debauchery.
Passersby, some intoxicated, some not would occasionally pass them by, but gave the two no trouble. The passersby seemed to be completely absorbed into their own respective worlds, too much to even bother paying a moment's worth of attention to Kamisato Kakeru and Floris.
Eventually, it was Kakeru who broke the ice that'd formed. "Floris-san, might I ask a question?"
"Shoot," Floris said, her voice nonchalant, as if she didn't have even a single care in the world. She'd turned to look at the man who was her date, somehow, despite all the odds that she'd felt had been stacked against her.
Maybe they'd all just been in her own head, imaginary blockades that she'd set up to see herself fail, for whatever reason armchair psychiatrist Floris could pull out from within her proverbial sphincter. Intoxicated Floris wasn't having any of it, and the latter immediately shut the former down.
"Are you nervous? You spoke earlier regarding your previous forays into the realm of romance. Evidently, they hadn't gone according to plan. I do hope that you're telling me the truth, and that you weren't subjected to anything… unwanted. That would be a true, and disgusting shame."
"No, God no," Floris spoke, confidently. "Nothing like… that. You're talking about, you know, sexual assault, right? No, nothing of the sort. Just guys being jerks, bailing on dates, borrowing money and never paying it back, lying about who they are and what they're about.
"I m-mean… I had this one fling, where the guy turned out to be a gigantic asshole, and we… well, you know; but I consented to that. Tricked or not, I gave it the green light. Heh… the sex was alright, at least. He talked big, but he couldn't back it up. Kind of wish I didn't do it, though. It makes me feel like I'm a loose woman or something."
Floris awkwardly cleared her throat. "L-look at me. You didn't ask to be vented to; s-sorry, Kamisato-san. That just… came out? I feel better, though. D-don't really know why I told you. I guess you know a secret of mine now."
Kakeru stepped a bit closer to Floris, mid-stride. "It'll remain a secret. This I vow. My condolences. Casual sexual encounters aren't quite enough on their own to make someone "loose", not by my standards at least. Some of the less tolerant among us like to forget that sexual activity is as natural to our species as drinking water, and consuming nutrient-rich foodstuffs."
Floris felt a grin tugging at either side of her face; Kakeru's words had brought warm, tingling positivity into her life once again. Without her permission, her lips curled upwards into a thin smile. "That's one way of looking at the issue, Kamisato-san. I like the way you talk with big words; it's really cute."
Kamisato Kakeru nodded respectfully, before rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. "Many thanks, Floris-san. You know something? You're cool. We should see one another more often."
"C-cool?"
To say that Floris was ecstatic would be an understatement. Kamisato Kakeru had evidently closed a considerable difference between himself and the former New Light operative, as he was almost directly next to her. Floris slipped her hand into the palm of Kakeru's own. He accepted Floris's affectionate gesture, and as a comfortable silence descended, the two continued on their way.