Author's Note: Hello, everyone. Do not worry. I am still alive. Unfortunately, I have turned into a set of lazy bones and haven't gotten much done lately. I'm back on track now... I think. Here's chapter seven. Enjoy.
Kuroko was an odd sight when she did not grow weary that evening, for it seemed as if Misaka flipped a switch. Things changed rather quickly.
Fresh from a bath and free from the chains of homework, Kuroko lay sprawled across Misaka's bed, anticipating another night of... Well, sleeping next to Misaka. Weeks shaped the act into an expectation even though it was a privilege. Had she not taken it for granted, she may have not been so disappointed when Misaka emerged from the bathroom as well. While rubbing a towel over her thin auburn hair, Misaka eyed her and frowned.
"You know, stealing half my bed is the only thing that hasn't stopped since things got back to normal. You're not having nightmares anymore, right? Don't you think it's time you started sleeping in your own bed again?"
What a stupid question for Misaka to ask Kuroko. A shake of the head was almost mandatory.
"Could it be? Have the thrilling coals of defenselessly resting in the company of your vanguard grown cold?" Kuroko inquired, expression broken. Immediately, Misaka too shook her head.
"It's not so much about that..." she murmured, drawing nearer to the bed. After studying the glossy hardwood floor, her hands stopped applying the towel on her head. "...Like I said, this is the last thing that hasn't gone back to normal. That was the point of all this: restoring normalcy. Now that your powers have returned, everything is okay."
Normalcy? If Kuroko was not mistaken, Misaka pushed for creating a new life while her powers took absence, not restoring normalcy. Hitting the arcade on Thursdays; reading manga on Mondays and Wednesdays; grabbing something to eat on Fridays. None of such was normal, and yet Misaka endorsed each.
The return of Kuroko's power must have renewed a desire to rebuild the ruins of their old life. Stability had already settled, so all they needed was a roof.
Surely...
Surely...
...Surely?
A strange fog entered Misaka's pupils. Kuroko had seen that look before: the deadly concoction of desperation and sadness. A deadly concoction that, no matter the size, could always be spotted. The same look that spread across her face one particular night in the Judgment office. The same look she had delivered to her lips.
"I-I guess that makes sense..." Kuroko agreed, but her word was stripped of merit. As she started the climb off the bed, she released a sigh. "Just don't be surprised if I started asking for the privilege more often. You've spoiled me now, don't you know?"
"It's a small price to pay in exchange for putting this whole ordeal behind us."
"Yeah. Let's put it behind us..." her voice replied thickly. She arrived at the light switch after a brief venture, and she quickly sold the room to darkness, save for the ray of moon creeping through the thin material of the curtains. Kuroko disappeared, but not for long, for she reappeared upon her own bed. While constructing a comfortable nest of blankets and pillows, both remained quiet.
But not for long.
"Mm..." Misaka sighed once she plopped down on her pillow. A hard day of work granted her utmost comfort. While rolling onto her side to face the wall, her mouth gaped for a yawn. "See you in the morning..."
Kuroko was not as exhausted, for she remained upright, slouching and maintaining a heavy gaze. She too gardened a certain cloud of fog in her eyes, but it was not of desperation and sadness. Instead there bubbled prejudice she reserved only for criminals destined to become her enemy.
"Is that the reason you stole those files in the office, Sissy? To erase this entire fiasco and put things back to normal?"
Things would never go back to normal, would they?
Misaka only rustled a little.
"Hm?"
"The files. You broke into the office a second time to take them, didn't you?"
"What files?"
"My files."
"What about your files?"
"Why did you take them?"
"I didn't take them. Why would I take them?"
Eyes narrowing, Kuroko allowed her back to meet the bed. Her long hair sprawled across the pillow. For an unknown reason, it felt harder than most nights. Unwelcoming, she'd go far enough to say.
"That was what I was wanting to know."
It was clear that Misaka would not spill a single bean. Kuroko should not have been surprised; after all, it was Misaka that happened to be the most hard-headed person she had ever met, and it was no understatement. However, never in Kuroko's wildest dreams had she thought that hard-headedness would someday come against her. The disappointment, and confusion, did not warrant sleep for many agonizing hours. Only when the clock struck two in the morning did she finally drift to sleep, unaware of all that conspired within her six.
In one such direction was the rousing of Misaka, who cautiously rose to sit. With the hem of the comforter bunched in her fists, she turned her gaze to the neighboring bed, observing the motionlessness of its occupant. She cleared her throat softly.
"Hey... Kuroko..." she whispered. "Are you still awake?"
No answer.
Just as she desired.
But no smiles came about Misaka's face as she began ridding the covers from her legs. No smiles came about Misaka's face as she collected her bedmate, Kill Bear. Her toes silently spread across the hardwood floor, wordless as she eased near the lump occupying the neighboring bed. A peek over Kuroko's shoulders allowed Misaka to hear the faint youth of snores, which was sure sign of slumber, no doubt. Soon, Kuroko would begin dreaming of heaven knows what. She would be so lost in her own world, a prairie of visions, good or bad, that would rob her awareness of Misaka's disappearance.
The window, the one never opened during the nighttime, opened.
Dressed in the armor of her Gekota pajamas and accompanied by Kill Bear, her shadow ominously roamed the emptied campus. As she walked, thin strings of blue ejected from her skull and mercilessly decommissioned mechanical eyes. She had long learned their each and every position, having become their enemy in the past. Every corner. Every nook. Every concave. Every convex.
The forces of a strong wind startled her, whipping her freshly-brushed hair into a tangled nest. Albeit annoyed by nature's treatment, she continued onward.
After all, it was very important that she was not late.
A figure, almost unnoticed, awaited her within the heart of the courtyard's gazebo. Had the moon not been generous enough to provide the light required to create a silhouette, it was likely the shadow would have been missed entirely. As threatening and malicious a lone specter seemed, Misaka went out of her way to meet it.
Her feet, barren of protection, crept along the gravel of a pathway. Small rocks jammed themselves between her small toes, whose muscles she had not the talent to move. The rocks were the least of her worries anyhow; what truly captured her attention were the subtle taps that sounded against the ground and her person: droplets of water. A distant, but muted, rumble set her in a state of unease.
Her clutch on Kill Bear tightened once arriving beneath the shelter of the pure white gazebo. What once was white had been painted black by the wicked night.
"Some lovely weather we have ourselves, wouldn't you agree?" inquired the shadow from the opposite side of the edifice. Every decibel of its voice, undoubtably female, dripped with sarcasm. She knew Misaka knew this. She knew everything. "I'm quite certain the thunder would awaken Miss Shirai if it got any louder. Wouldn't it be a better idea to head back to your room before that sort of thing happens? A natural born, justice loving, investigator, that girl. If she woke up to find you gone, my money says it wouldn't be long before she bloodhounds us down."
"This won't take long," Misaka assured while setting her stuffed bear on an innocent table.
The shadow stood stiff for a moment, listening as the sky roared a few times more. The sounds bored her quickly, so she took to watching as Misaka attempted to gently undo the stitches sealing Kill Bear's torn neck. After an unwanted amount of difficulty, a hand reached into the shadow's purse to withdraw a small torch which, once turning it on, shined on Misaka. The sudden burst of light made Misaka hiss and unveil a harsh eye at the wielder.
"Turn that off! People'll see us!"
"Hmph. Sorry for trying to help, Railgun," she huffed snobbishly in harmony with the clicking of the light. A curt snicker followed. "Nice pajamas by the way."
After growling, Misaka finally tore the string away, decapitating her poor bear. Despite its evident suffering, she did nothing to help remedy the pain. Instead, she made the wounds all the more grievous by burying her hands into its cottony guts. Fingers fished until they emerged with a certain article: a packet of copy papers clamped together by a binder clip. They seemed unimportant, but, judging by the way Misaka clung to them, it was a mistaken notion.
"Do I need to recap everything I explained the other day?" Misaka asked. The answer to her question most likely leaned towards the affirmative. She knew her neighbor well enough to make proper assumptions.
"I didn't listen to much of what I was told. The most I heard was that you were interested in paying. It was enough to capture my interest, and I figured you'd get to all the nutty details later."
"Figures. Guess I'll have to get used to being a broken record around you." Misaka slapped the packet onto the table, which the shadow observed by rekindling the flashlight. For fear of being spotted by an undesired spectator, her scan of the papers was brief, as it would allow her to kill the light much sooner. To her luck, the subject was simple enough to grasp within such a limited timespan. One of her mischievous brows lifted almost immediately.
"These look like some confidential documents, Railgun. How'd you manage to legally get your hands on these?" She edged closer. "Or were your means legal at all?"
Misaka huffed.
"That's not the part that matters. All I want is for you to make sure that everyone who knows about this incident, with the exception of myself, doesn't remember a thing about it."
"Everyone, you say?"
"Except me."
"Even little Miss Shirai herself?"
A nerve was struck. How evident it was by the existence of silence, long as it was uncomfortable. It was a question Misaka should have seen coming, and yet she miserably failed to prepare. Frowning, she resorted to a labored sigh. Even when her lungs could surrender no air more, she persisted to huff.
"Both options break my heart."
The last thing Misaka wanted after masking such a painful transaction, and decision, was to encounter the very source of the pain.
Having left the files to her shadowy cohort, Misaka disposed her person of a decapitated Kill Bear by dropping him off at the school's furnace. She carried no sewing tools to give him his life-saving stitches, and returning him to the dorm would surely attract unwanted suspicions from a certain roommate of hers. She had no choice but to abandon him, hoping to eventually retrieve him the following day. Should she be tardy, he will be mistaken for trash and burned. Tragic, but at least the heartache would rid her of evidence destined to lead to greater heartache. After all, her rendezvous spoke the truth: Kuroko was a natural born, justice loving, investigator. Even the slightest scrap of evidence could become the fountainhead of an unwanted discovery. Evidence was something Misaka came to despise, at least around her.
Kuroko...
She was the source of the pain.
Misaka returned to the dorm, quiet as a mouse. Luck had her return shortly after the storm reached its glory in which simple droplets clustered into behemoths that threatened every awaiting fool. The noise of the storm masked the sounds she wanted masked, such as the uncontrollable squeak that was the window opening, or the grunts she made while ascending towards her entrance. Without issue, she arrived within her sanctuary, cautious as she led the window back to its rightful place.
A momentary check up on Kuroko's bed displayed a sight akin to that she saw before leaving: a resting lump beneath the covers. With her shoulders relaxing, Misaka smiled, and a gentle stream of air flowed out of her nostrils.
But her content was too soon, for a while after she set herself down to rest, she felt the arrival of a visitor. A weight spread across her bed. The weight, that of another body, sandwiched itself between she and the wall. There was no way her visitor could have gotten to such a position so soundlessly, so easily unless it were a spirit, a specter...
...Or a teleporter,
"Off doing business again, Sissy?" asked her brand new bedmate.
Keeping her back turned, Misaka allowed staleness to sweep over her face.
"You know me," she retorted, voice thick. "Railgun's always busy."
A few fingers suddenly dashed through the tips of her auburn hair. They were loving, kind fingers, never meaning any harm, and yet Misaka did not like the way they felt. No choice lingered within her but to simply let the act come and simply let the act pass.
"You must have been taking a midnight stroll before the storm caught you. I can't think of any other reason that would explain why your hair is still wet," she added. Each breath seemed heavier than the last. "Bring that bear with you too? It seems to have disappeared."
Never had she found a bloom in the talent in lying. Because she knew she would be found out, Misaka had no choice but to simply tell the truth.
"Yeah."
"Taking a walk with a stuffed bear... It's a peculiar habit for a sophisticated girl your age to adopt, but I still love you in spite of your shortcomings." Kuroko's tone hardened not long after she finished. "Care to tell me where you went at such an hour?"
"It's not that big of a deal."
"Is that so? I certainly wish you would tell me in that case. But it really is a big deal, isn't it? That's why you insist upon keeping it a secret."
A gentle vibration that rumbled around Misaka's form evolved into a steady quake. The crackling of youthful sparks lit the darkness of the room. With static hanging in the air from the storm, even the slightest disturbance couldn't be missed. Nonetheless, Kuroko did not budge.
"Just go back to your bed and get to sleep. We have school in a few hours." Misaka demanded grumpily.
"We all want things we just can't get, don't we? A trade is always negotiable." When silence became her response, Kuroko sighed, then turned her back to her bedmate. She traced the tips of her fingers along the coolness of the wall, never daring to let them wander to the contour of her neighbor. "No deal, I see. So be it, Sissy. Good night."
Misaka did not answer, and they did not exchange anything more for the rest of the night. When morning arrived, even with the rain continuing with its fit, Misaka was the first to rouse. Sleep had not blessed her, as made apparent by the violet hanging beneath her eyes. After dressing, she left the dorm early. This was under the pretense that she planned to attend early tutoring classes, but both knew it was merely an excuse to unravel distance.
Moments after Misaka's departure, Kuroko rose from the bed, groggy as well. She gave the door a prejudice gaze, but only for a short time before her attention became captured by dressing as well. Once geared for the day, she too took an early leave from the dorm, but not to persistently follow after her suspicious roommate. Instead, she paid a visit to the campus' library, whose doors had freshly opened.
Approaching semester exams had many tables occupied, even so early in the morning. Being hardly dispirited by such a fast approaching train, even when gobbling up tracks at an indecent speed, Kuroko did not feel compelled to join the crowd. Instead, she buried herself within the tallest, and oldest, bookshelves that hid within the endlessness of aisles. Forgotten records that had not been touched for years, with the exception of librarians during inventory, dwelled in such an isolated environment. With none to disturb her, Kuroko had little trouble scouting for what she wanted.
Let's see here...
Rampage Dress,
Shock Absorber,
Skill Polygraph,
Telekinesis...
Her eyes widened once happening upon a tasteful discovery: a plain, white binder whose spine bore the label "Teleport". She promptly segregated it from its clique and made movements to disappear with it. If she had watched where she was going, she would not have run into the body that awaited her beyond the corner of the bookshelf. Upon clashing with the visitor, whose very existence in such a section of the library was a mystery, Kuroko released a grunt, furrowed her brows, and grit her teeth.
"Hey! Don't stand in the midd-"
But she couldn't help but freeze the moment she realized to whom it was she spoke. Her tongue, once prepared by the whetstone of annoyance, dulled with humility, perhaps even a pinch of fear. Before her stood a somewhat tall girl, no elder than her dear Misaka. Long, golden hair, straightened with perfection (but also buffeted by some frizz, courtesy of the inconvenient weather), flowed from her crown, and her starry eyes gazed confidently down at her. With the binder pressed against her chest, Kuroko gently attempted to ease away.
"O-Oh... Excuse me, I uh..." she began correcting herself. "...I didn't know-"
"Who you were talking to? Honestly, what does it matter if I'm me or someone else? This part of the library is so underpopulated you can't blame someone for not minding their manners."
"You're absolutely right. Now if you'll let me go my own way..."
The girl watched Kuroko only gain a little distance before calling back to her. Her tone, of course, was quiet, seeing that they stood in the midst of a library.
"Why the rush, Miss Shirai?"
Kuroko did not recall ever knowing the girl intimately enough to share her name. The only reason Kuroko knew of her was because of her status. At Tokiwadai, it was more rare to find a girl that did not know this certain blonde than a girl who did.
"Business, obviously. I'm interested in doing a little research before class starts."
"Oh? Research you say?" the girl echoed, trotting to Kuroko's side. "On what? As your upperclassman, I might be able to give you some pointers for some of the classes you're struggling in."
"It isn't for school, mind you." Kuroko increased her speed. "It's just personal curiosity."
"Hm..." the blonde replied, nosily eyeing down to the spine of the binder. Almost immediately, a particularly sinister expression spread across her lips. It only lasted a second, far too quick for Kuroko to catch. "You've found yourself one of the campus' manuals on special-movement type esper abilities. I'm sorry to break it to you, but your new ability won't be found in there. However, I do commend your dedication to getting to the bottom of your little mystery."
Again, Kuroko froze, eyes widening. Said eyes darted to the face of her follower, who stopped as well. She did not know whether to feel frightened or infuriated, as both would eventually produce results she did not like. Her best option was constructing a facade that hid each tidal emotion that washed over her.
"I can see the rumors are true now that I've met you in person, Miss Misaki Shokuhou. Or do you prefer to go by your nickname, Mental Out?" Kuroko inquired, face stale.
Misaki responded with a shy giggle.
"Names? How about Your Majesty, since they also call me the Queen of Tokiwadai?"
"That one's out of the question, I'm afraid. I'm quite aware of which faction I happen to occupy in this... Shall we call it a popularity contest?"
Shrugging, Misaki shook her head slowly.
"Well, once you're on a side, you're on a side. It would be a shame if someone made you..." She gave her a sly eye. "...Change your mind." What surprised her, however, was the fact that Kuroko did not edge away from her as she suspected. Kuroko remained still, gaze hard as it remained upon her. The challenge, the tension, the sincerity within such a glare revived a long dormant excitement that filled Misaki's face. "Oh? Not frightened?"
"At the moment, no," Kuroko responded tastelessly. "I'd rather know what you want from me. You have my attention."
Misaki responded with another group of mingling chuckles, and she stroked the top of Kuroko's head in the meantime. With a hand coyly hiding the smile on her lips, she narrowed her playful eyes.
"My, my, so professional. Your mind and speech don't share terribly much in common."
"Stop with the fluff and get to the point! What do you want?"
"Well, since I happened to run into you in such a lonely place, I do remember a small favor I needed to ask of you... Care to oblige?"
"Once I know what it is."
"Of course! Of course!" Misaki fanned her hand before her face. "Miss Shirai, I'd love a small list from you."
"Of?"
"A list of people you know have been made aware of your latest incidents. You know, like how you lost your powers, how you ran into that strange man in the night, how you got super-duper sick... And your latest revelation, but I know you haven't told anybody about that."
As expected, Kuroko returned the request with hostility, as shown by the feral intensity in the caramel of her eyes.
"Don't try to play me for a fool. If you wanted that sort of information out of me, you could've easily gone snooping through my mind for it. Based off of what you just told me, you're not completely below that. What do you really want?"
Misaki looked worried, but a piece of the puzzle threw the image completely askew. Perhaps it was the lack of sincerity in the ever-present smile upon her lips, even despite the drop of her brows.
"But what if I'm refraining from using my powers on you? What if I value the crop of legitimate trust and honesty?"
"I have plenty of arguments to the contrary."
"Oh? Could it be that you're promoting a different method of obtaining information? You don't seem too fond of my Plan B, and it's lucky your sweet Railgun makes me think twice about deploying it on you."
Their stand off led to an intermission which consisted of Kuroko thoughtlessly abandoning the binder on an alien shelf, leaving it to rest amongst its brethren. When she returned to the situation, Kuroko harbored a deep, arching frown that could not be cured by much. Misaka may be reliable for a remedy, but with the state they had been in since a few hours beforehand, one could reasonably question the effectiveness.
"If this is amounting to some sort of blackmail, I assure you that I don't handle grudges well," she warned, shoulders stiffening.
Weightless, Misaki shook her head.
"No, no. I only blackmail when I have to. You seem to be of the more cooperative type. Would it make you feel more comfortable if I told you that I want this information for Railgun's sake?"
Kuroko scoffed.
"Now I know you think I'm an idiot. I may be a bit overzealous in regards to Sissy, but that doesn't mean I'll blindly trust someone's word about her." While crossing her arms, her foot gave the hardwood floor one judgmental tap. "Honestly, you think I'd do what you say just because you said it's what she wants? Last I checked, you two aren't the most buddy-buddy either, so I don't know why Sissy would confide in you in the first place. There's obviously a more reliable person she can lean on, and her name is Kuroko Shirai: defender and soon-to-be lover of the all-powerful Railgun of Tokiwadai. Sissy knows that she doesn't have to ask some shady rival of hers for a favor when she's got me. I'll listen to her troubles any day or run to the Americas and back. Whatever Sissy asks of me, I shall carry out, no matter the..."
Misaki didn't listen to much of what Kuroko babbled on about, as she was too busy digging in the depths of her purse. Two articles within that bag had the power to shut Kuroko up. Believing the article for which Misaki homed would be a threatening remote control, Kuroko paused and started backing away again, mouth gaping.
However, the blonde simply withdrew a packet of papers. The green emblem of a shield plastered across the heading of the front page captured the onlooker's eye far quicker than anything else. Kuroko stopped and, intrigued, eased closer until she reached reading distance. Misaki graciously allowed her to take the papers. After a brief read, she returned to Misaki, eyes widened once more.
"...These are... My papers from Judgment." Confusion incinerated to prejudice quickly. "How'd you get these? If you were the one who broke into the office while..." Her voice toned down, sentence trailing as she watched Misaki steadily wag her finger back and forth.
"You know who got those papers, Miss Shirai," Misaki corrected, "and they were passed to me shortly after she acquired them. Still don't believe Railgun requested this?"
At a loss for words, Kuroko's grip on the papers tightened.
"But I... I don't understand why she'd..."
"I know, I know. Reality hurts, doesn't it? Don't worry. She's doing this all for you, and I'm certain she'll discuss it sooner or later. Until that day comes, you just need to hang tight, listen, and obey. Mmkay?"
Albeit begrudgingly, Kuroko chose to heed her advice.