It was week three, and Kuroko was growing deathly frightened. Thanks to Misaka's hospitality, which welcomed visitation to her bed, nightmares were postponed. However, it did little to combat her case of inability. Kuroko still could not teleport. Not herself nor anything upon which she laid a hand.
A somber expression painted across her face as she stood in the midst of the track field, gazing down a sandy road. Tick marks decorated the sand, marking measurements. Coaches surrounded a circle sketched in the ground at the opposite end of the field, armed with tape measures and stopwatches. Despite their distance, they all gazed at her with anticipation.
But she could not do much to appease their longings, for her eyes dulled to the point of hopelessness. She could only be pulled out of the void when a coach approached her from behind and rested a hand on her petite shoulder.
"Give it one last try, Miss Shirai."
The coach hoped for a lost cause. Kuroko knew that much before she even mustered what determination had not been washed away by the tide of disappointment. She set a palm on the weight standing at her side, mind steering away from the world surrounding her in exchange for additional focus on her target. As usual, she envisioned it disappearing.
Travel approximately sixty meters.
Land precisely where the circle was marked, just as she saw it.
No matter how hard she concentrated, however, nothing came of her efforts. The weight stayed as it was, and it would not move no matter how much she wished of it. Such wishes extended to the point of replicating the sensation of a hammer pounding against her skull. The pain continued until her lapse of concentration ceased with a gasp for breath, and her muscles screamed in agony. She was forced to buckle, but out of frustration, she caught herself. Her mouth, once gaping, sealed into a prison with the clamping of her teeth.
The coach rushed to her side and allowed her to lean onto him for support
"Don't push yourself too hard," he warned.
"If I don't, there's no way I'll be able to reimburse what I've lost," she muttered between breaths. "If I've lost progress in my abilities during all this time of inactivity, I need to make up for it the soonest I can."
"That isn't absolute," the man argued. With a turn of the head, he disappointingly motioned for his fellow coaches to abandon their post at the ring. "Something's wrong with you, and it's not going to count against your personal integrity. We're going to keep investigating until we get to the bottom of this. Until then, I'm be filing a report on today's exercise."
The tragedy of defeat swept over Kuroko's face, and she forced herself onto her feet with the assistance of a crutch, which would be her coach. She stumbled briefly, but only briefly. She caught her balance after taking a final deep breath. A momentary scan around the field promised that her failure had no audience, which bettered her mood slightly.
Shame took her captive; she wished not for any to know her dirty little secret, not even Misaka. Especially not Misaka. Such was the very reason Kuroko went to the office to confide in Uiharu, the only person who was aware of the issue besides Konori, to keep the matter confidential. Sincerely, Uiharu looked her in the eyes and frowned.
"If this goes on long enough, Misaka will eventually find out, Shirai. You can't keep it a secret forever."
"I want it to be as long as I can make it. Sissy doesn't need to worry for me... I don't want her to. If she's worried for me, then she'd always feel like she has to take care of me, and if she feels like she has to take care of me, she'll never have the trust to rely on me in the future." She sighed. "Assuming I'll be worth relying on in the future..."
"Talking like that certainly doesn't help. If you want your powers to come back, at least act like they will. It's better than throwing a pity party for yourself," Uiharu corrected strictly while rising from her desk. She sounded with a groan as she stretched and took care to disconnect her many computers. "As a matter of fact, whether you have your powers or not, I still find you trustworthy. There's been an increase in crime in my neighborhood lately, so can you walk me back home?"
Kuroko's jaw did not bother rising from her fist.
"You don't have to try to make me feel better."
"That's not the reason I asked! I'm serious! A neighbor had a home invasion a few days ago and I'm still a little weary."
If Uiharu was acting, she was a good actor, but Kuroko never knew Uiharu to be an actor. There was no better way to consider her words besides remnants of the truth. Kuroko's morality refused to let her decline Uiharu's plea, which led her to her feet as she took her book bag into her hands.
"Fine. Let's go..."
They took the time to close the office before departing into the dark streets of the night. The darkness demanded that they walked quickly, as Kuroko had a pressing curfew crawling along the arms of the clock. The clock stopped for nobody, not even them, as did the imminent danger that lurked within the shadows of nearby alleyways. The dangers thought better than attacking a pair; had they been separated and alone, they might have been less lucky. It was an event-less venture, but not to their dismay. Arriving at Uiharu's house unharmed was the most they could ask from an insane city of the future, and it was exactly what they were delivered. After holding a brief exchange of good nights, Kuroko went her own way.
Long had it been since she had last been so pressured to get home in time. Ever since she learned to teleport herself, transportation was a simplicity that made her one of Judgment's greatest assets. Now, on a night with no promises, Kuroko was deduced to sprinting down street after street, cautious to follow along the path that teemed with fellow pedestrians.
Her arrival to Tokiwadai was greeted with the dorm matron, who stood at the lobby with both arms crossed and a tapping foot. Kuroko reddened almost instantly, but she was more than prepared to use her work as an excuse for her tardiness. It got her off the hook after a few solid minutes of bargaining. Victorious, she rushed past the matron and homed straight for her dorm. An eagerness to greet Misaka swelled within her pounding bosom. After all, she was sure that Misaka, her beloved, would replenish her long deteriorated cheer.
Except the moment she entered the dorm, she was met with a heart-stopping sight.
The second Kuroko threw open the door, Misaka emerged from the washroom, fresh in a lovely blouse and skirt. Light, unnatural blush brought her eyes, exemplified by a humble degree of black eyeliner, into focus. Her lips, altered to a quaint shade of salmon, dropped upon witnessing the entering of her roommate.
Having whitened, Kuroko gasped.
"Sissy!" she exclaimed in a confusing concoction of joy and shock. "Do my eyes betray me or have you bedizened yourself to commemorate my return?"
Puzzled, Misaka frowned and continued with her business, which led her to a shelf on her side of the room to retrieve a necklace resting within a quaint, nearly unnoticed, music box.
"Of course not."
"Then why, I must ask! Why have you decked yourself in such a gaudy outfit?" Her heart stopped when she witnessed as a blanket of red slowly spread across Misaka's face, a type of red she had seen before. The mere sight sent horror sweeping over her head to wash her into an inescapable abyss. "D-Don't tell me... Are you preparing yourself for a date?"
Misaka's eyes shyly darted to the girl, and she shook her head to furiously cover any embarrassment.
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Kuroko, but I..."
"You what?"
"I made a bet with someone and I lost, so I'm treating them to dinner."
As if glass had shattered in the distance, Kuroko paled further until her jaw flimsily dropped.
"A date! I knew it was a date!" her exasperated tone exclaimed. "I should've known I wasn't doing a good enough job capturing your favors. Who? Who is this shadowy figure that has taken my rightful place as your suitor?"
"I just told you it's nothing like that!" Misaka snapped in return. Young blue sparks danced along the contour of her forehead. The fact that she was getting so terribly defensive over the matter hurled Kuroko into a state of immense unease. "I'm only staying true to my end of the deal I made with him. That's all."
Kuroko gasped in horror when the image of a certain spiky-haired boy washed along the banks of her memory. The thought was like a whale, pitifully heavy and impossible to return to the merciless sea from which it hailed. Nonetheless, she dreamed of happy possibilities, such as regaining her powers for the sole purpose of teleporting it out of her business.
"Him?" she echoed, exasperated. "You aren't referring to that troglodyte Touma Kamijou, are you?"
"Don't call him that! He saved your life once, don't you remember?"
The whale was doing more than just taking up space on the shore now; it had begun moaning and flopping, destroying virtually everything unlucky enough to get in its way. Only then did Kuroko truly realize there was nothing she could do with a beached whale besides wait and hope it will eventually be able to return to where it belonged. With a reddening face, which she tried to hide by turning away, she released a sigh through her nostrils.
"With your help, of course..." she corrected softly.
"My point is that you shouldn't be so quick to jump on him. He happens to be a fairly nice guy!"
Kuroko sniffled.
"Oh, the torture of listening to my Sissy speak so well of my rival in love..." She mustered the strength to halt her mutterings and deal with the problem herself. The challenge was faced head-on, and there was little intimidation in the eyes that gazed upon it. "Very well, Sissy, I won't be so judgmental of this person, but I can't simply take your word for it. If this truly isn't a date, I'm sure you wouldn't mind me tagging along for a field study."
Misaka frowned.
"Someone has to be here in case the dorm matron comes along."
"A few pillows can easily act as place holders for us. If you're looking for excuses for me not to come, Sissy, at least try to do better than that."
"I don't have enough money to pay for three meals."
"I do. I'll pay for all of them."
"You shouldn't be out in your Tokiwadai uniform past curfew."
"There happen to be other clothes in my wardrobe."
Misaka stopped. Defeat crept upon her face, once stoic with confidence. She huffed and allowed her brows to furrow. Once her head swiveled, her lips parted.
"Looks like you win, Kuroko. But if you do anything..." Her eyes opened slightly. It was at the perfect angle to glare at her roommate as a threatening spark played along her head. "You know how it'll go down."
The tingle that came with such a strand of electricity was barely strong enough to send a small wave through the air. It hit Kuroko's face, making her shudder with excitement.
"Of course, Sissy."
Their method of departure from the dorm was from the window. The drop was not high enough to spook them from leaping their way into freedom, and from there, their escape was child's play. Once or twice Misaka prompted to make use of Kuroko's teleportation, but once or twice Kuroko nonchalantly stated that walking would be the superior course of action (it was mainly to cover her current issues with her powers, but it doubled as an opportunity to spend more time with Misaka).
Their travels across the city were without worry. Whether she had her powers at her disposal or not, Kuroko always felt safe, for she stood in the presence of the third ranked Level Five of Academy City. Danger skewed its path from her, all except the audacious breed that stuck its head in a place it did not belong. Seldom had such a specimen posed a threat to Misaka, and for good reason.
In addition to being without worry, the air was light-hearted as well. The two had the chance to catch up. The chance to spend the quality time Kuroko so lavished in sheer bliss. The joy, the pleasure, neared the border beyond fathoming...
...And it all came to a screeching halt upon the arrival at Joseph's, where they found a young man waiting just outside the front door. Kuroko frowned at the sight. There he was: the whale in person. He seemed awfully lax for a beached whale, but, then again, in such a moment of panic it was best to remain calm. Perhaps he was too calm; unlike his arriving party, he wore a casual sort of wear that consisted of a simple T-shirt and goofy khakis. Kuroko's eyes narrowed while contrasting him with her partner.
"For once, the monkey's in the right. What person wears something formal to a place like this?" she thought to herself while turning an unnoticed eye to Misaka. "Sissy would, I suppose..."
Touma's smile made them feel welcome, but it slowly faded with time. He gave Misaka a studious gaze.
"Hey, Zapper..." he started awkwardly. "Um... Have you been here before?"
"Of course I have," she returned roughly. "What makes you think I haven't?"
"W-Well..." Kuroko knew that cutting Touma off would be best for his health, but she chose to remain silent. "...I'm just surprised you got all dressed up. That's all."
Merciful, Misaka turned away, making her way to the glass door that begged to be pulled ajar.
"I don't get to wear this often. It's not because I think this is special or anything..."
Kuroko remained bleak. Of course she knew Misaka's language, and she did not like what the translation of her sentence spelled.
"Sissy. Stop acting so coy. It's definite that you like this troglodyte and I have absolutely no idea why. The best course of action I can take at this point is making him subject to intense research, that way I can mirror whatever qualities you admire in him. After all, once I figure them out, I can copy them at least ninety times better." She became so dreadfully lost in her internal dialogue that she failed to notice how Touma had turned to her, smiled, and tried to make peace by offering a hand for a shake.
"And it's good to see you as well, Miss Shirai..." He looked away, which gave Kuroko plenty of time to drag herself back into reality and give his hand a studious gaze. It was the left hand he extended to her, not that accursed right hand. At least she could see he truly meant well.
"No need to act as though you're glad to see me. We're rivals competing for Sissy's favors, so there's no possible way a friendship can blossom between us."
"We are?" Touma inquired as his offer for a handshake was obliged.
"Yes. We are. And I've come with Sissy this evening to make sure you don't reach any bases that exceed mine."
An awkward silence settled between the two, but neither noticed how Misaka's face began fuming with scarlet. It was surprising that she did nothing, even when Touma slowly brought a hand to the back of his head.
"Um... I'm sorry you see it that way..."
Kuroko was not as sorry, and it did not change when the claim had time to saturate. She was sure to steal the seat next to Misaka when they chose a booth in the building. Touma never seemed to have any intentions to take it from her. Instead, he calmly took the seat across from the two and remained there throughout the duration of the dining process. As usual, when Misaka settled on her order, Kuroko chose the same thing. When Misaka became suspicious and changed her mind, Kuroko mysteriously found a hankering for changing her mind as well. There came a point where it was clear that she, utterly shameless, hid nothing, and Misaka raised the white flag.
Touma found amusement in what appeared as a show to him, so he laughed and scratched the back of his neck.
"You girls are like two peas in a pod."
A few minutes of awkward conversation eventually had them deliver their orders to a waitress, who later returned with a trio of drinks. While swirling her straw around her first round of lime soda, Misaka gifted the dining room with a scan.
"It's busy for a weeknight," she commented. It was clear, to Kuroko in the very least, that the statement was nothing more than a desperate attempt to keep the ball of dialogue rolling. When Kuroko and Touma happened to look around as well, they reached a checkpoint of agreement.
"It's how the city lives, as they say," Touma replied with a friendly tone.
Kuroko, however, did not say terribly much, for, after surveying each fellow customer, a particular man happened to catch her prejudice eye. Her neighbors, despite being so close, did not notice that she had disengaged from the conversation until an indecent amount of time later. It started when Misaka turned to her and caught the distant look in her eye. It had hardened, craving so desperately for the peace of mind it would be troubled to receive. Misaka had seen such a look enough times to know something was amiss.
"That man over there..." Kuroko started as Misaka's mouth, prepared with a question, opened. Having picked up on the thickened vibe, Touma leaned closely to hear her every word.
"Which one?" Touma did not look behind him yet, even when Kuroko's interests appeared to be over his shoulders.
"The one sitting alone beside the window," Kuroko replied, eyes narrowing. "Something's off about him."
Misaka's eyes darted to the same destination, albeit carefully. She did not seem to see nearly as much as Kuroko, as the sight did not strike her as abnormal. After all, it was just a man with a thick bush of facial hair downing a soda.
"You sure it isn't because he's wearing a turtleneck?" she asked as Touma turned to cautiously steal a glance of his own. "I remember you told me you didn't like turtlenecks last week."
"It is the turtleneck, Sissy, but I'm not uneasy just because they look absolutely atrocious on every poor soul that dares to wear one. No one wears a turtleneck in this season. Therefore, I can best conclude he's wearing it as a means to hide something."
"Now that she mentions it, she's got a point. A turtleneck isn't a popular wardrobe during spring," muttered Touma as his edgy face returned to the two. His eyes slowly slid to Kuroko. "You're a Judgment Officer, right? Can't you go do a little investigating?"
Solemnly, Kuroko shook her head.
"Not without probable cause; I can't go frisk someone just because they're wearing a hideous turtleneck."
"Then what do we do?" Misaka asked impatiently.
"Nothing. There's nothing we can do until he starts posing an obvious threat. We need to keep an eye on him until then." Perhaps Kuroko spoke too soon; the second after she finished her explanations, the man stood. Her eyes widened as he slowly reached down and sunk his fingers beneath the hem of his sweater. Without a moment to spare, she hurriedly reached over to grab hold of Misaka's head, which she shoved beneath the surface of the table. Though dismayed, Misaka did not fight against the insistence of her force, for gunfire rang through the room.
Luckily, the source of the noise, a handgun freshly ejected from hiding, was not pointing at anyone, including Misaka. The only victim was a single overhanging lamp who could no longer suspend the glass of its light bulb. The room silenced in an instant, letting only the shrieking of shards pelt the floor surrounding the turtlenecked assailant. He looked around, observing every still customer and waiter, all who had eyes glued to his menacing frame.
"This is a robbery! Nobody move!" he growled after a momentary scan. "Don't think I won't shoot anyone who doesn't obey my exact orders!"
Touma, having lowered himself behind the cover of the booth, quickly turned to the pair sitting across from him. Both had also lowered themselves to a state of equal or lesser protection.
"A gun? This guy's pretty brave bringing one of those in here with so many people! Didn't it cross his mind that someone might be an esper?" he whispered nervously, eyes widening.
"He clearly didn't give it a second thought," Misaka rumbled from the opposite side of the table with an immature spark rising from her head. "...But I'll make sure he does after this."
"Hold it, Sissy!" Kuroko hissed. She finally retrieved the sash that had been buried in a pocket, and she quickly used her free hand to give her neighbor a squeeze. "This is a Judgment affair, not a civilian's. I'll handle this."
"Kuroko," Misaka retorted sharply. "Now isn't the time to start this argument."
Deep down, Kuroko knew she should have been passive, even if it were just once. With her powers hindered, she had no chance of controlling the situation. Even so, a voice, an urge, drove her to furrow her brows and look Misaka in the eye. She was Judgment, and the risk was a civil responsibility whether she liked it or not.
"Stay here, Sissy," she grumbled insistently. Whatever time had been left for Misaka to argue was stolen by Kuroko's swift hand, which reached up to the table to nab a clean, unused knife. She departed from the cover of the booth while slipping the sash onto her arm. In the openness of the room, she presented it with a thunderous tone. "Hold it."
The man turned, and he found no pleasure in meeting the familiar green and white pattern which was her brand.
"Just my damn luck..." he growled, preparing the next bullet.
"My name is Kuroko Shirai of Judgment, and I am putting you under arrest for illegal possession of a firearm and attempted robbery. If you cooperate, we won't have to make things messy."
"You think I care about making things messy?" the man raised the mouth of his gun, prepared to fire. The audience, the entire room, cowered in fear. One particular elderly woman, part of a pair in an imminent corner, began to sob. The sight frightened Kuroko greatly. However, she was not completely powerless; she had a bluff up her sleeve, and she was more than willing to see if it would prosper.
"I wouldn't be so quick to pull that trigger if I were you. I happen to be a Level Four esper: spacial movement. For the mentally deprived, that means I can teleport both myself and the things I'm touching." She confidently presented the butter knife clutched in the clamminess of her quivering hand. "Like this knife, for example, which I can put in your throat in a matter of a half-second. Which do you suppose is faster? My ability or your gun?"
A click rang from the man's throat lured her attention. A glint in her eyes told that she did not trust, nor like, the way the tone assaulted her ears.
"I'm an esper too, officer. 'Course I wouldn't be foolish enough to tell you what my ability is as you've told me."
He could have been bluffing too. Her situation looked not as bright as she originally aspired.
"The reason I told you is because I want to end this confrontation with as little mess possible. You would be surprised to see how often my notions have helped me reach my bottom line. With that said, would you like to cooperate or suffer the consequences? Though I'd never wish it, I'm willing to follow through with the latter."
A pause came.
Apparently, the pause was too long to appease an impatient Misaka, who had watched how Touma quietly departed from the booth as well. As he crawled his way to the showdown, hiding in plain sight, she began charging a bundle of sparks in the palm of her coiling hand, eager to exact her wrath. The moment she fired, time seemed to soar almost as quickly.
Every glass of liquid in the room rumbled before releasing its contents into the air. Globs of water rushed to conjoin with one another into a sphere that absorbed Misaka's attack before it could strike the perpetrator, who seized the confusion to take aim at his opponent. That very confusion was what kept Kuroko unaware of his schemes until it was too late. A bullet rushed across the room and struck her in the shoulder before she could react, drawing a yelp. She stumbled back, eyes widening with fear as her palm darted to the site of the wound. When her eyes returned to the man, she was met with the sight of the gun, prepared to fire a second, likely more lethal, shot.
Before death could be wrought upon her, though, a savior took the criminal from behind. As it would turn out, it was nothing more than a certain teenage boy with black spiked hair. He tackled the criminal, grappling for his gun in the midst of the struggle. Said struggle, so it would seem, encouraged every able pair of hands to join him in sealing the threat. Within seconds, a dog pile weighed the man into submission, and the room cheered.
Relief swept over Kuroko as she finally allowed herself to buckle to her knees, where she sought structure from a neighboring booth. Her injured arm, drenched in red from a stream that spewed from her wound, flopped limply at her side. As the blood trickled from the tips of her fingers and onto the floor, the distant noises of sirens caught her ear.
Everything was fine.
She could relax.
And yet, she could not.
The next place Kuroko found herself was on the back fender of an ambulance right outside the scene of the crime, allowing her shoulder to be mummified by a stranger. Shamefully, she kept her face hidden from a distant pair: Misaka and Touma, who were giving a detailed report to an inquiring Anti-Skill officer. The flashes of lights, red, blue, and white, amongst the night was no new sight to her, but even so, she felt overwhelmed. Her head dipped in attempt to divert her attention from anything that sickened her.
"Be careful now. Since you lost quite a bit of blood, you'll be feeling a tad lightheaded," warned her nurse upon securing the snake of gauze constricting her upper arm. She gave her a warm smile as she rose, stretched, and continued. "Just stay put right here. The boss wants to give you a check-up before we head out, so take the time to get yourself balanced."
Kuroko could not do much to recapture her steady, for the presence of the nurse was exchanged for the presence of Misaka, who had abandoned Touma and the officer. For the first time in ages, Kuroko wished Misaka away, far away from her so that she could wallow in her shame alone. On the bright side, she was given time in the silence to prepare herself, for Misaka wasted much of it to pitifully observe her freshly bandaged friend.
"Geez, Kuroko..." the girl sounded roughly while sending a hand behind her neck. It must have still been clammy from the nerve-wrecking drama that had ensued, otherwise she would not have been so quick to remove her fingers. "I... have a lot of apologizing to do, don't I? If I'd known he had some sort of water manipulating ability, I wouldn't have tried taking matters into my own hands. As a result of my impulsiveness, you got hurt. I can't imagine how devastated I would've been..." She paused to swallow a pensive gulp. "If that guy had better aim..."
The entire time, Kuroko's eyes were on the inkiness of the pavement.
"What matters is that the situation is resolved and nobody got seriously hurt," she replied calmly... At least she thought it sounded calm enough to pass as calm. Hoping it would add to her facade, she finally fixed her eyes on her visitor. "You don't need to worry about it, Sissy. All you were trying to do was help me."
"It seemed like you needed it," Misaka replied, her tone a pinch harsher. "I saw that look in your eyes, Kuroko: you were afraid. Incompetent, I'd even go so far as to say. It was as if you didn't believe a word you said to that guy." With arms crossing, she bent over. Her eyes narrowed, and Kuroko struggled to keep her face turned away the most it could without seeming blatantly obvious. To Misaka, everything Kuroko did was blatantly obvious. "Is there something you need to tell me?"
"Not at all."
"Anything at all?"
"Nope."
"Not even a reason why you didn't bother using your usual method of catching baddies? Don't say it was because you were scared, because I know you've dealt with worse." At last, she reached forth, captivated Kuroko's chin with a quartet of dainty fingers, and forced their eyes to meet. "You can't teleport, can you?"
Her answer came in the form of bitter tears that welled in her eyes. Tears she fought to contain. Misaka softened at such a sight, and she gently released her prisoner out of pity. Almost immediately, Kuroko's face returned to hiding with an occasional hand reaching up to brush away a shameful tear.
"This wasn't exactly something I wanted you to know..." she cracked in the midst of all the surrounding commotion.
"My money would've said that I'd be the first person you told," replied her partner as she took a spot on the fender as well. "Lose faith in your Sissy?"
Mortified, the girl's head perked from her shameful hang, and she quickly turned. Eyes widening, she furiously shook her head.
"Absolutely not, Sissy! Why, there's no person in this world in whom I'd rather invest more trust! I-" Her passion died when she met with a doubtful gaze. Slowly, her lips eased shut. Her shoulders, once tense, submitted to the authority of subtle domestication. "...I, um..."
"You...?"
"...I saw it as something I should handle on my own. That's all. I'll never improve myself if I let someone like you carry me all the time. Besides... you don't have to worry about it. Being Tokiwadai's Railgun is a full-time job after all."
A hand set itself on the roof of her head. A gentle hand. The same type of hand that greeted her on the first night barren of nightmares. Kuroko had grown to like that hand, an unimpressive feat, but the distraction of the hand's master was something far more displacing. A darkness gathered in the depths of Misaka's eyes. A darkness that hid itself skillfully. Perhaps too skillfully, as it almost slipped by the tirelessness of Kuroko's guard.
That darkness sent a fleeting chill down the observer's spine, one lively enough to keep her trapped in a brand new world, a place beyond the comparison of a horrific nightmare. Reality nestled itself within direness in that gaze. It flickered away in an instant.
"What do you mean by never improving yourself?" she inquired softly. The sight Kuroko had seen was enough to drive her away from a willingness to answer immediately. After a momentary silence, she dared to allow her lips to part.
"What else could I mean? My esper powers. The stronger I get, the more efficient I'll be at doing my job... and, more importantly, helping you when you've met a challenge you can't face on your own. I won't reach that goal unless I invest my own time and effort."
"I don't think that's something you should worry about, Kuroko." The quickness of her reply was off-putting. "Okay? Being a Level Four suits you best."
Anyone who did not know Misaka well enough would have thought that she was a competitive type. One of only seven Level Fives in all of Academy City simply defending her prestigious position.
But Kuroko knew her dear Misaka better. She was as humble as they came, and always encouraged each of her friends in their endeavors... Unless she knew it would ultimately bring them harm.
If anything, Misaka was warning her about striving to become a Level Five. She herded her away from an unseen foe that lurked within the looming shadows, glaring with fiendish eyes. It was a foe that sealed Misaka's lips shut, forbidding her from uttering even the slightest morsel that would uncover its existence. Kuroko had enough intuition to unpeel the utmost layer of her message.
And they left it at that.