Author's Note: Hello, friends. I have been spending time doing some cleanup work because, believe it or not, I have finally got my hands on a program with spell-check and my, my, my do I have many spelling errors in previous chapters. I am terribly embarrassed. The problem should be fixed now. Enjoy the chapter.

Kuroko, being a reasonably hygienic girl that was slowly budding into womanhood, did not touch dumpsters under normal circumstances. It was also reasonable that she did not let dumpsters linger in her mind for too long. The moment both fundamentals were being violated at once made her realize that had succumbed to the frightening forces of a dream. To her favors, such a dream spared her of any malicious imagery as she had endured in week's past, but that did not stop it from straying to the realm of queer.

She seemed to stand in a void of nothingness... that is, until her surroundings gradually began to settle around her. In one of the countless grimy alley ways of Academy City she found herself, and she had no idea why. A glance at her arm, which was decorated, granted her the sight of her Judgment sash clearly presented. It could be best assumed that, like normal, she was out on duty. Even in a dream, Kuroko did not abandon her obligations, so she proceeded to continue with her patrolling...

Until, there it was: that blasted, oversized trash can.

She only glanced at it once in passing, but her mind persistently chose to let the thought of such a mundane object saturate. It soiled by the time a voice crept into her ears.

"Pst."

Kuroko froze, immediately checking her six in fear of encountering an unwanted visitor. All she found, however, was loneliness, which led her to carry on after a reasonable time of hesitation, only for the same voice to make a return.

"Hey. Over here."

Again Kuroko froze, but less pacifistic. Armed with a frown, and a few fingers that threatened to reach for the needles strapped to her thigh, she turned around again.

"Alright, who's hiding from me?" she grumbled.

"Me? I'm not hiding, ma'am. Just because I'm a dumpster doesn't mean you should treat me like I'm not here. I have feelings too, y'know."

Though she did not want to, her eyes wandered to the same trash can she had passed. For a moment, a realistic bone in her body would not let her believe her ears. After all, the ear was rather infamous for betraying their owners, and she had been conditioned to know that being an exception stood far, far away. With an overwhelming degree of prejudice, Kuroko carefully backtracked, and she paused before the rusted cube of metal that was the dumpster. It was dull. Old. Uninspired. And not to mention the aged stench it emitted...

"A talking trash can in my dream, hm?" Kuroko announced before capturing her forehead with a palm. "And all this time I had been under the impression I possessed a more sophisticated mind..."

"Oh? Judging by the sound of your voice, I'd say you don't like the idea of me speaking to you. Should I have not spoken at all? Or be it the superior to alter my voice to a voice that caters more to your fancy? I happen to be an aspiring impressionist, so I would adore your feedback." A clear of the throat followed. "Oh Kuroko, won't you come here and let me share a word or two?"

The trash can did not lie when it spoke of its talent, for it performed a near-flawless copy of Misaka's voice. Instead of being pleased to hear the sound of her dear Misaka, however, Kuroko retracted as she stiffened, and her hands settled on her hips. Despite finding no face on the dumpster, she gave it a disapproving scowl.

"How dare you. I will not stand here and let you, a giant metal box used for housing garbage, impersonate my Sissy."

"It seems that I've become a bit too talented of an impressionist. Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, so allow me to make up for it by using a different tone..." A clear of the throat followed. "Oh Kuroko, won't you come here and let me share a word or two?"

The trash can did not lie when it spoke of its talent, for it could perform not just a near-flawless copy of Misaka's voice, but a near-flawless copy of Touma Kamijou's voice as well. The sound gifted Kuroko with a smirk she shamefully attempted to hide from the dumpster's unseen eyes. She nodded subtly before turning her head.

"A more fitting tone. I forgive you."

"That's swell, because I have a teensy favor to ask. As far as I know, you are the only one who is capable of obliging its satisfaction."

Kuroko, while allowing her hands to slide off her hips, felt one of her brows raise. A favor, the trash can asks? What could a trash can possibly want from her?

"What sort of favor?"

"As I said, it is quite simple. If you couldn't already tell by this godforsaken rust covering my skin, I have lived a long, long life. Unfortunately for me, this long, long life, in addition to being very long, has been utterly eventless. Since day one, I've been stuck here in this back alley, barren of any news or company. Being a dumpster, I am incapable of moving myself to a more happening place."

"I assume you're getting at asking me to help move you?"

"What a decisive girl! I couldn't have worded it better myself. It would mean worlds to me if I could enjoy my last days somewhere less... shall we say dank, cold, and dreary."

After heaving a sigh, Kuroko's shoulders drowned, and her eyes briefly closed.

"You must not know how much you weigh. I'm about as puny as I look."

"My weight shouldn't be any issue against your powers, Miss Judgment Lady. You're one of only a handful of individuals in this great city with spacial movement esper abilities. It's quite grand."

Kuroko shook her head.

"True, but even so, there is a limit to how heavy an object can be in order for me to teleport it. Unfortunately, I am quite sure you surpass that limit."

"Nonsense. You teleported me just a few nights ago."

Silence erupted between the two, and the girl's pupils gradually began to shrink. The longer she stared at the heap of metal, the more uneasy she felt. The more a desire to step away almost consumed her every thought, fiber, and muscle.

"That was a confusing night, no doubt. I won't blame you for misbelieving that I was the one who teleported you onto the man that was chasing me. In reality, I was saved by someone- a good Samaritan presumably- that must have powers similar to mine. The person from whom you seek this favor is not I, I'm afraid."

"You say that with a suspicious amount of hesitation in your voice. Could it be that you aren't sure if you weren't the one that teleported me?"

The longer Kuroko stared, the more she found it to be a chore to simply swallow the saliva that had flooded in her mouth. She blinked a handful of times. Few were voluntary. Her fingers began to tap a nonexistent tune on her thigh while she thought.

"I'm quite reinforced by my notions."

"Hm. How disappointing. Very well. If you would, please, return here once you've been disabused of such notions."

Kuroko did not have time to be disabused of her notions, for her eyes opened to end the vision at once. She found herself where she last knew herself to be: protected by the flawless walls of her dorm, colored by the fresh morning light that spilled inside from the gaping window.

The window was open?

It certainly had not been open during the night. She and Misaka were not as whimsical as most, and therefore would never permit such. Misaka, surprisingly, must have played senior in rising and decided to give the room fresh air. When Kuroko rolled over to find the spot next to her, excluding Kill Bear, vacant, she decided it was the best conclusion to be drawn.

Unbeknown to her for a short time, Misaka departed from the washroom, foaming at the mouth with a toothbrush in hand. She stared at Kuroko until the latter at last recognized her presence. The moment she had an audience, she attempted to present a grin behind all the bubbles gathered at her mouth.

"It's about time you got up. Half the day's gone." She did not speak clearly thanks to the suds, but it was clear enough to be translated properly. Length did not dominate the interval that slithered its way to Kuroko's response:

"You don't seem like you've been up long either, Sissy." She smiled back, but with far less exuberance.

"Looks like you got me there." Misaka momentarily retreated to the washroom, presumably to empty her mouth of foam. Kuroko considered following to greet her with a hug, but her attention was robbed by the realization that Misaka had already dressed herself out of her childish pajamas. Merely puzzled, she frowned, rubbed an eye, and clumsily rose.

"You also look like you're ready to go somewhere. Peculiar for someone who just woke up," she commented.

"Well, I've got a Saturday to waste cleaning the pool..." Misaka retorted heavily.

"What for?"

She did not fail to notice the way Misaka paused. For only a second, her eyes darted away before returning to her.

"I accidentally made a disrespectful remark to a teacher yesterday. No big deal, right?" While she spoke, she watched as Kuroko finally decided to spread her toes across the chilly wooden floor, and she softly glided her way to the doorway of the washroom. An awkward pause erupted between them as she, with squinting eyes, studied her profusely.

"Why are you hiding this from me?" Kuroko asked roughly. "The dorm matron noticed that you and I were cooped up at the Judgment office the other night, didn't she? She's assigned another punishment for breaking curfew?" When Misaka's lips parted, she injected one last comment. "Please don't lie to me."

Misaka, again, looked away. In an attempt to diminish the sincerity of the matter, she began to mindlessly return random things, such as combs, perfume, and hairbrushes, to their respective drawers. The longer she watched, the more Kuroko's frown arched.

"I just think you need more rest," Misaka muttered in the midst of her petty chore.

"Didn't I tell you I feel better now?" Kuroko intersected Misaka's personal space, gently snatched the nearest wrist, and brought the back of her hand to her forehead. After giving her guest time to feel, she looked her in the eye. "I've felt better since yesterday. If this is a punishment meant for both of us, you have to let me do my part."

Since Kuroko told the truth, Misaka had no choice but allow herself to be accompanied. Armed with brooms, sunblock, and bottles of water, the two dared to venture into the territory of the vicious sun, whose prime time plagued the ground with heatwaves. Midday was a risky time to be toying with the sun, but they had slept away the morning. If they waited until the evening, when the sun was docile, they would not finish until the moon debuted.

Long ago, Misaka and Kuroko found the gap where their cogs could fit in the mechanism that was cleaning the pool. After all, their persistent antics constantly earned them the job. Like usual, Misaka became the general, for she led the charge against the grime that had made its home on the floor and walls. Kuroko, a simple troop, followed after her general, checking for spots that may have been missed. When one felt swayed by the heat, the other would accompany them to the poolside bench that basked in protection from the sun. Both would proceed to take a healthy dosage from their respective water bottles.

The third break, which initiated once it was declared that the job was a quarter of the way finished, was no different than the previous duo; Kuroko and Misaka sat side by side, gulping water, swatting at sweat, and exchanging complaints about the late spring heat. However, during a small pause, Kuroko happened to grant her eyes the permission to saunter to her neighbor: a soaked, reddened Misaka, who was busy taking a quick swig from her drink.

Since it was Kuroko that was looking at Misaka, it was almost mandatory that she happened to steal a glance at her lips... Except, in the present case, hers was a pinch more than a mere glance, as it had evolved into a bonafide stare. The sight of Misaka's lips, moist, captured Kuroko so, and proceeded to spread a flush across her face. She forced her eyes away when she thought Misaka had caught on to her.

Kuroko was not quick enough.

"Something wrong?" Misaka inquired, observing how Kuroko would not turn to face her.

"N-No..."

"You don't look like it."

Cautious, Kuroko's eyes timidly crawled back to Misaka's face. Instead of pausing at her lips, which were frowning, she delved into her caramel irises. Rows of teeth grazed over one another within the onlooker's mouth, and her hesitation only worsened when she attempted to open it. Time, and Misaka, waited patiently for her to gather the courage hidden within her bosom.

"Um... S-Sissy?"

"What is it?"

"Did you really..." She glanced away again, only to promptly force her gaze back on her. "Two nights ago... did you really kiss me?"

Misaka too looked away, but only so she could casually take another drink.

"Yeah."

A shiver jolted down Kuroko's spine, and her face became cherry red.

"Y-You did? Why?"

"Because I wanted to make extra sure you held true to the promise."

"The one about me not telling anyone about that man? And that sickness?"

"Yep." Misaka emptied the bottle, so she playfully crushed its flimsy remains with her grip. The other hand, far more tame, reached over and pat Kuroko on the crown. "Have you been diligent?"

Flattered by the touch, Kuroko nodded.

"Of course I have."

"Good to hear." Misaka's hand immediately departed from her in exchange for rising to her feet. After stretching and successfully hurling her crushed bottle into a neighboring trash can, she beckoned Kuroko to follow. "Let's get back to work now."

Kuroko wanted to continue with the subject, but it had been ages since she learned to trade the satisfaction of her longings for the satisfaction of others. It was not a painful departure, for Misaka was not the only one who wanted to get done with cleaning that blasted pool.

Like every instance they were assigned the chore, their uniform tactic of cleaning gradually deteriorated into a turf war; Kuroko grew a mind of her own and abandoned her job of cleaning Misaka's mistakes, and Misaka stopped protesting against the independence. By the halfway mark of the job, it was obvious that the two were burning, and their hair had grown terribly wet and oily. If one was foolish enough to run her fingers through such wet tresses, she ran the risk of getting those fingers stuck. Freedom would only be bought at the price of painfully pulling a few strands from her scalp.

They had strayed quite a distance from one another, having gone off on a tangent of their own.

The fatigue that threatened to overwhelm Kuroko temporarily robbed her of awareness to the environment, reducing her to obliviousness. Such included obliviousness to Misaka, to whom she had her back turned. Misaka had risen from slouching over her scrubbing broom and steadily trekked toward her partner. Her footsteps, light as a feather, made it seem as though she did not even want to be noticed. She paused when blue tile replaced cement on the pool's bottom. Their distance was decent, but perfect in her eyes.

"Hey Kuroko," she called. It was the first either had spoken in nearly half an hour of miserable labor, so Kuroko immediately responded to it. Her eyes were wide with hope. Had Misaka grown as fatigued as she and was prepared to request another break? The thought of cold water tickled her desires in the most gentle of places.

Wordless, Kuroko straightened her aching back and turned, prepared to offer her attention to her most beloved. The last she checked, Misaka was nearly across the entire pool. It did not require any to question why she was surprised to find that Misaka had migrated to a more imminent position. Before Kuroko could even voice a word, Misaka took her by even more surprise; she lifted her broom before hurling it into the air, where its handle homed straight for her neighbor.

"Catch," was the simple command that followed. With a desire not to disappoint, Kuroko divorced her own broom handle to rush forth, armed with the intention to marry a new one. Luckily, it landed horizontally in her hands, albeit with a brief struggle. The moment she wrapped her fingers around its thin shaft, Kuroko gazed up for approval. Misaka was not impressed, nor was she disappointed; Kuroko's performance was a product of what was expected. The reward was a simple nod. "Good job. Now, send it back to me."

It also did not require any to question why Kuroko's expression dropped with a darkness of confusion. A part of her wanted to obey Misaka barren of inquiry, but another part of her wondered if the ruthless heat had driven Misaka mad. If the latter was so, obliging her nonsense would only steal time from the important things, such as leading her away from the bullying sun to nurse her back to sanity. Never in the multiple times of cleaning the pool had Misaka spontaneously initiated a game of "catch the broom", nor had she ever initiated a game of "catch the broom" in the first place.

But sanity had not abandoned Misaka's eyes. They were robust like usual, inspiring action. It was a force to which not even Kuroko was immune.

Face contorted, Kuroko too lifted the broom, then tossed it back to Misaka. It was a clean throw that yielded a clean capture, but little did it seem to please her. Misaka grimaced the moment the handle landed in her arms, and she directed that grimace to Kuroko the soonest the opportunity became available.

"No, no, no." She repeated the action, watching as her playmate rushed for the catch. Her fists met her hips when Kuroko's vacationing agility made the broom bounce onto the floor. Kuroko scrambled to correct her mistake by snatching the escapee. "I said send it to me, not throw it."

Kuroko timidly looked up from the broom in her hands.

"But throwing is sending, Sissy."

"Geez, you don't get it," Misaka groaned while laying out her palm and scrunching her greedy fingers a pair of times. "Teleport the broom into my hand." The silence that followed appeared to be cataloged in her expectations, for she did not react to it. Kuroko stood still, doubtfully staring from the distance that separated them. Misaka responded with a huff from her nose. "I know what you're thinking. Go on. I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't think you could."

Kuroko's grip on the broom tightened until her knuckles threatened to exchange their fairness for redness.

"How can you be sure I'm ready?" she asked nervously.

"I just know. Come on, now, we don't have all day."

All of a sudden, every detail became Kuroko's to seize. The distant chirps of newborn birds. The droplets of sweat that slid down her burning face. The breeze that would not touch them thanks to the walls of the pool. The aroma of freshly cut grass. They were mildly pleasant things that would have made her happy had it not been stolen by the present.

If she were to oblige Misaka, she had to shake her head and get to focusing. It had been so long since she used the process, and she wondered if it had to be relearned. Fear washed over her, and it was no gentle tide with cool waters. What if something were to go wrong if she did manage to teleport that silly little broom? Her skill had been so overwhelmed by moss she wondered if her aim would be askew. She feared it would instead hurt her darling. The mere thought of accidentally impaling Misaka with the shaft of that broom... It was a thought far too fearful.

Kuroko shook her head.

"I can't," she murmured, barely loud enough to carry to Misaka's distant ears. The doubt seemed to also be anticipated, for Misaka took awfully well to it. Anger did not suddenly claim her throne, but disappointment did. Her face changed to reflect such, and her eyes gently glossed over her partner.

"I guess all you need is a little encouragement after all," she muttered back while easing closer. Kuroko remained still, even as Misaka crept nearer and nearer. Had she been so ashamed she could not bare the thought of disappointing her further? Just disappointing Misaka once was enough to tear her to shreds.

Upon arrival, Misaka stood tall, looking down at her underling. Kuroko admirably gazed back up, broom still in hand. Inside her eyes swam an odd amount of hesitation, an odd amount of hesitation that was enough to make her viewer's neck hair rise.

"S-Sissy...?" she croaked, but was interrupted when dainty fingers captured her chin to angle her head upwards. Their faces crept closer until their lips met, creating a soft union that did not last long. It departed almost as soon as it arrived, but it left a shade of red that made the sun envious.

As she withdrew, Misaka smiled down at her.

"Can you at least try?"

Shaking, Kuroko blinked.

"Are you going to start doing this every time you want to get your way?" Not that she was complaining...

"Just answer my question."

With a gulp, Kuroko averted her gaze to the ground. The floor of the pool seemed far less interesting and provided a lovely place of escape... for the moment at least. She nodded after what seemed like a long time, but she cleared her throat in the meantime.

"A second one could always help..." She lifted her head, eager for more. What she anticipated was not what she received. Misaka did plant a kiss, but it was on the center of her palm, which she gently slapped against Kuroko's forehead. Indirect, but a kiss nonetheless. Kuroko did not argue as Misaka resurrected their distance.

"Alright, let's try now."

Misaka was correct to assume that a little encouragement set Kuroko straight, for she looked at the situation with a fresh perspective. If Misaka, the experienced Level Five, thought she was capable, who was she to doubt her? The most she could do was try her best, and try her best was what she was going to do.

Her clutch on the shaft of the broom became tight again, and her attention delved in the deepest pits of concentration. It had been long since she had to require herself to close her eyes during such a process, but a fear of unintentional distraction made for an exception. Left alone in darkness, she began to think, mapping all she knew of her surroundings: the pool, Misaka's position, the trees that stood beyond the fences, the bench that awaited their next break.

Where did she want that broom? She wanted that broom in Misaka's palm, smack-dab in the middle of five hungry fingers. She envisioned that broom, splintery shaft, grimy bristles and all, and she guided it to its intended destination. The flow, once again, swam exceptionally smooth, for not once did her thoughts stray to less dire places. She was right on task, start to finish, until that broom was exactly where she wanted.

"Didn't I say you could do it?"

Kuroko's eyes snapped open in surprise, having been yanked out of her trance. Her fingers, against her expectations, were barren, even of the pole of a broom. When her eyes slowly traveled up, she instead found it hiding in the hands of another. Exactly where she wanted it. Gladly, Misaka twirled the piece into the air while growing a grin.

"I..." Kuroko was nearly at a loss for words. "Don't believe it..."

Misaka winked.

"Believe it. You're back, Kuroko."

"Sissy, I'm back!" she exclaimed. Confusion broke into joy before she disappeared. When Misaka found her again, she was plummeting from the sky, aiming for an embrace. "Oh, Sissy!"

The attack was fairly easy to avoid if the victim had sharp reflexes. Lucky for Misaka, she barely squeezed into that category, for all she had to do was step to the side. Kuroko landed; not on Misaka, but on the ground. She laid perfectly still, groaning until her friend decided to step in. The back of her head would be made the lesser of a foot, whose sole gently planted itself on top.

"You can thank me, but you know I don't like surprise hugs, Kuroko," she scolded while allowing a spark to thunder frighteningly close to her felled target. Instead of striking her, the stream dispersed across the concrete. "Consider yourself lucky that I'm feeling forgiving today..."

Though she was annoying on occasions, it was a relief to have the old Kuroko return.

For days, Kuroko worked to rebuild the ruins of her old life, and she was making for a swift recovery. This, of course, was with the generous help of Misaka, with whom she practiced during the night by playing another game of "catch". The only difference, however, was that the object being thrown and teleported was a Gekota finger puppet instead of a broom. It wasn't long before the routine restored her ability's speed.

Uiharu took the return with glee, just as Konori. Judgment was not to lose its beloved teleporter. Not yet, in the least. The following week, the new schedule said, would have Kuroko embark on her first patrol in what seemed like forever.

At last. Kuroko finally found the leverage she needed to get herself back on a track of confidence. She wore her skin with pride, kept her head high, and found a smile taking permanent residence upon her lips. No longer was she helpless; she was the helper once again: her rightful occupation.

No longer did she feel unrighteous to hover over Misaka's shoulder in response to an inquiry:

"Hey Kuroko. You're good at math, aren't you? Come help me with this homework."

She loved to press against her back when she peered upon that sheet of paper, resting lifelessly on the surface of Misaka's desk. If luck blessed her, her sly arms flaunted the permission to snake around Misaka's torso and stay.

"Oh, I see what's going on here. See this X? You're supposed to divide it with the X on the opposite side. Always remember: what you do to one side you do to the other..."

One, such as Kuroko, would suppose that all was fine and dandy. The fine and dandiness had brought hefty luggage, for it did not plan to simply visit; it had arrived to stay. Like before, life was to offer simplicity once again.

No more complicated mourning.

No more.

No more...

This confusion. No more, Kuroko wished. She wanted it all to end.

Her bliss was born to live a short life, for a problem, a hawk, swooped in to snatch the kill very soon. Too soon. Clad in the wool of a lamb.

The day started as a day that worked its way to monotony. After school, Kuroko clocked in for work with a casual expression. She passed Uiharu on her way to her desk, but shortly returned once depositing her bag in the heart of a chair. Like the day before, and the day before the day before, Uiharu had her face buried in one of many containers packed with unrelated files. Every once in a while, after perusing through a folder, she would return to a clipboard and scratch a check mark dead in the center of a tiny box.

Hardly amused, Kuroko leaned against the nearest shelf and narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms comfortably in the meantime.

"Call me crazy, but I believe you've been at this chore for nearly a week," she commented.

"That's because I have." Uiharu peeked up from her work, gardened a smile, and playfully wagged her pen toward the girl as if to scold. "Normal people say hello first, you know."

Kuroko sighed.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Hi," she breathed while intruding to steal a better look. "Mind if I ask what this is all about? I thought we just did inventory last month. Konori better not be making you double check."

Uiharu, a multitasker, returned to her work, but had yet to abandon Kuroko and her questioning.

"Yep, she is."

A frown spread across the other's face.

"No way."

"Way."

"What did you do to earn that sort of punishment?"

Again, Uiharu stopped. It seemed to be for an important reason, as she returned her gaze to the girl. However, instead of being friendly like last time, her expression delved deep into the realm of confusion and concern.

"No one told you?"

"About what?" Seldom had Kuroko been oblivious to the affairs of her own branch.

"The break-ins. The building had two intrusions last week, so we have to make sure all our files are still here. Whoever wants our information probably doesn't have any friendly intentions. The sooner we figure out what's missing, if anything, the better."

Break-ins? Last week? Kuroko knew of one, but not the other. Misaka breaking down the door and silencing the alarm in pursuit of her could definitely be considered a break-in, but that was one instance. Who else entered the office after that?

"Is there any information as to who the intruders could have been?" Kuroko inquired with a slight degree of force. However minute the force may have been, Uiharu felt it, and she was compelled to immediately surrender answers.

"Not much. The most we can say is that both break-ins were done by the same culprit. The first night, the door was broken down, so we had it fixed the next day... only for it to be broken down again the following night. The alarm system didn't go off, and all the security cameras were mysteriously disabled. The method was exactly the same both times." Uiharu snickered despite the grim tone of the explanation. "So, we either have a ghost or an esper on our hands. Which do you suppose?"

Kuroko did not laugh.

"Definitely an esper..." she trailed off, eyes wandering elsewhere. Fear began to gather in that gaze.

"Sissy, perhaps?" she wondered. "But what reason did she have to come back after finding me that night?" A chill rushed up her spine, but she mentally discouraged a second round. "Whatever the reason, there's no need to be worried about it. This is Sissy. She always has pure-hearted intentions. Uiharu doesn't have to be subject to all this unnecessary work if the intruder didn't have anything malicious planned. I need to let her know."

Her mouth eased open.

"Uihar-" But she stopped when a bolt of lightening struck her, forcing her into a state of stillness.

The sensations of lips gently clashing against her lips.

A soothing tone tickling the rim of her ear.

I need you to promise me this one thing.

Promise me you won't tell anyone about what happened tonight. Not Uiharu, not Saten, not Konori, not the teachers at school, not Judgment, not Anti-Skill...

The fleeting memory alone was enough to leash her tongue and tame it into submission, even as Uiharu glanced back over to her.

"What is it?" she inquired.

She could not see how she had reddened. Her body froze as if it were paralyzed.

"Why did you want me to promise that so badly, Sissy? Does it have anything to do with this?"

Kuroko adored Misaka too greatly to dare breaking such a promise.

"N-Nothing. How about I lend you a hand?" It was the most she could do in exchange for withholding such precious information.

Uiharu's eyes brightened at the offer almost immediately.

"Gee, really? That sounds like a godse-"

"I'm afraid you don't have the time for that, Shirai." From behind, there interrupted a tone. Konori departed from the kitchen, stirring sugar in a cup of freshly brewed tea. Upon arriving at the source of the conversation, she gave Kuroko a gentle gaze. "Still haven't gotten back into the rhythm, I see. You were supposed be out on patrol nearly twenty minutes ago."

The reminder set fire to Kuroko's tail, making her quickly retreat to her desk to snatch her case of needles and a pair of handcuffs resting within a drawer.

"S-Sorry about that, Konori," she murmured in the meantime.

With her back turned to the girl, Konori moved toward Uiharu with the intention to make a checkup.

"I'll let you off the hook this time since you've only been back a week. Just don't expect as much mercy next time." She left Kuroko to the dust by shifting her attention to Uiharu. Left in the background while strapping a belt of needles onto either thigh, Kuroko was deduced to listening to the quiet exchange between the two. "Has everything been okay so far?"

"Just about. Nothing's missing except for the files about Shirai's resignation. As a matter of fact, the entire folder that contained the records of her losing her powers is gone... But I'm pretty sure I last saw them on your desk since you weren't finished making corrections."

"I don't keep those sorts of files at my desk overnight," Konori corrected. "They should've been with all the other files we store."

"W-Well, that's not where it's at..."

No longer could Kuroko play the listener. Having prepared herself for patrol, she peered around the shelf. On one level she set the handcuffs, and the floor became the resting place of her briefcase.

"My files are missing?" she echoed frightfully as she edged closer, hoping to break her way back into the conversation.

Konori simply dismissed her by waving her hand toward the door.

"We have it under control. Get on out there, now."

She wanted to discover more of the details of such a disappearance, but Kuroko had no choice but to comply. With only an obedient nod, she retracted herself, snatched the handle of her briefcase, and rushed out the door.

As one would expect, it was difficult for her to shift into "patrol gear" with such an occurrence fresh on her mind. Her eyes became distant as she meandered along the sidewalk, almost completely mindless. Autopilot only guided her through a traffic of faces, which was not promising. Evening was approaching, which meant that homebound workers were destined to thicken such traffic. In order to catch a suspicious eye, she had to be on the top of her guard...

As soon as all the pieces came together.

"A mysterious second break-in and a mysterious disappearance of my files? I'd be a fool to think they aren't related. What would Sissy want with something like that?" She allowed her eyes to scan around. As usual, nothing seemed terribly out of the ordinary. "Or is it possible that an esper with similar abilities was the second visitor? Electric-type espers aren't uncommon. If the latter idea is so, it should give me more reason to be afraid; whoever they are, they wanted my information."

It was not long before Kuroko came to an awaited pause before a general store, frown deepening as she peered beyond sliding glass doors. She did not plan on going inside, but the newspaper vendor most certainly lured her presence. The front page sat in the display case, shouting about another building that had been destroyed during the night. An ominous photograph of the wreckage sat below a body of details. From what Kuroko could recall, the scene was far worse than its predecessors.

"The terrorists don't look like they've left since I went off duty. Another factory got obliterated two nights ago." She narrowed her eyes. "Threats that large are most certainly Anti-Skill's jurisdiction, but I need to offer as much help as I can. Pondering while on duty won't do any good."

She decided to linger on her issues later as a result, which proved beneficial. Not even an hour later, after wandering through places such as the park and a quaint strip mall, Kuroko happened upon a scene that was ripe for intervention.

A foolish department store clerk had brought a table in front of his building. Upon such a table sat an array of perfumes, all of which he gleefully advertised to the crowd that migrated by. He was fortunate enough to fish out one interested customer, who struck up a conversation with him about his products. The climate was ideal for another, an unsuspecting fellow dressed in a heavy coat, to pass by the table completely unnoticed by the clerk. More importantly, the clerk also missed how the man effortlessly reached toward the nearest bottle and stuffed it inside his pocket in passing.

Though the crowd was oblivious, Kuroko was not. Having seen the entire event unfold, she appeared at the man's side, and her prejudice eyes slowly shifted over to him.

"Petty or not, I don't consider thievery a very noble crime," she sounded, relaxed as always. The man beside her was not quite as relaxed, for he, upon turning to see her armband, broke into a sprint. As he shoved his way from her, she watched, hardly amused. Again, she disappeared, and when she reappeared, it was directly in front of the crook. Simply stretching her leg before his was enough to land him face-first onto the ground, and she effortlessly sealed him by running her fingers along the belt wrapped around her thighs. The contour of his clothes became outlined in needles, and he only struggled for a handful of seconds before giving up.

"Dammit." was the most he could sigh.

"Try to check your surroundings next time." Assuming he would still have the audacity to try again in the future; a few months or a year in prison ought to instill otherwise in his brain. All there was to do now was deliver him to an authority, which would require her to fish out the pair of handcuffs in her pocket...

There were no handcuffs in her pocket.

Her eyes widened when her hand darted to the other one. None in there either. When a realization settled on her shoulders, she bit her lip forcefully. Confound it! She forgot the handcuffs on the shelf back in the office! The job, once effortless, suddenly became harder... And embarrassing. With crimson creeping onto her cheeks, Kuroko's brows furrowed.

"Guess I'll have to call for back up..." she grumbled to herself quietly.

But as she began reaching for the phone in her pocket, something strange happened.

Something that made such a boring day a little more...

Interesting.

Her mind, as if it began to control itself, envisioned those runaway handcuffs. They were quite a ways away, being elsewhere in the city. Down twists and turns of streets, the darkness of sinister alleys. Past the corner store teeming with customers. Past the general store with its newspaper vendor. Up the stairs of a uniform building. They rested on that bookshelf, alone.

But now they were in her palm.

Kuroko froze in horror.

When she looked, she found that familiar piece of justice in her hands, once halfway to her pocket. Just where she wanted them.

She looked up again, scanning her surroundings. Had anyone seen that? Why were they carrying on, minding their own business as though nothing had happened? Something happened, and Kuroko's mind could only return to the persistent dumpster that plagued her dreams.

At last, as that dumpster foresaw, she had been disabused of her notions.