Chapter Three

"A third victim, huh?" Elbows propping him up as he worked at his desk, Heaven Canceler sighed at the news. Though it was already noon the blinds in his office were drawn and his visage was marked with fatigue. "Another Level 5?"

"No, Sensei," the nurse reported and stepped forward to hand the doctor a clipboard. "It's a Level 4. She's uninjured, so it's likely unrelated."

Old Frog-face looked at the clipboard and grief pulled his features down. He remembered the person by their picture and didn't bother to move the reading lamp to read the details. "She may have relapsed. Poor girl. How is she right now?"

"She was unconscious upon arrival. However, while we were transferring her to a room she woke up. Her eyes opened suddenly and she started shouting 'oni' repeatedly. It lasted for about a minute before she passed out."

"Something must have triggered her memories of that day," the doctor concluded. He fell silent and thumbed absently through the report while sipping at lukewarm coffee. At length he asked, "Is anyone accompanying her?"

"A body guard of some sort has been with her the whole time. He couldn't even be persuaded to leave when we took her in for examinations. He doesn't appear to be with Anti Skill, though."

Grief shifted a short distance into frustration and the doctor began muttering to himself. "She's in no condition to act on her own. He's too paranoid." Rubbing his forehead with his free hand, Frog-face handed the report back. "Have one of the nurses keep an eye on her and let me know when she wakes up."

Alone in the dim light, the miracle worker leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. It had been a long, mysterious night.

First the Railgun, Misaka Mikoto, had arrived at the hospital. She was diagnosed with two dislocated arms, a sprained ankle, bruised ribs- a few of which showed hairline fractures-, as well as a few minor lacerations. Certainly a thorough beating, but nothing like the case to follow. Almost as soon as The Canceler had finished working on Misaka another Level Five arrived. The patient was Kakine Teitoku, the second strongest ESPer in Academy City. The phrase "buckets of blood" was for once accurate. He suffered from deep, gaping wounds far larger than a bullet. Furthermore, these wounds were not ragged like normal piercing wounds but rather precisely cut as if a surgeon had cleanly removed the flesh with a scalpel. The fact that he had not died was certainly a miracle. Old Frog-face had proved his title during the operation. It had felt like an eternity.

Heaven Canceler hoped his nap would not be interrupted.

(***)

Uiharu was the only one still crying, albeit softly. Saten had fallen into despondency, understanding too well that there was nothing else for her to do but sit and watch after Misaka. In Kuroko, however, there was a smoldering rage. Kuroko's ability required her to remain focused: it is for that reason that she generally maintained herself well. Everyone, nonetheless, has a breaking point. Shirai Kuroko had long since passed that point. Unlike Saten, Kuroko had power. The storm clouds outside were a metaphorical reflection of her soul.

Finally resolved, Kuroko turned abruptly from the window and kept her gaze fixed ahead as she moved to the door.

"Get to the office, Uiharu," she breathed just loud enough for the girl to hear her.

"Excuse me?" Uiharu wiped the tears from her eyes with her hankerchief.

"Review all the tapes from the alleys around where Onee-sama was found," she stated. "I need to know what he looks like."

"Eh? But!" Uiharu's mind was so much of a mess she couldn't complete the thought and mindlessly fumbled around with words.

Standing in front of the closed door, Kuroko refused to turn around. "We're going to take revenge for Onee-sama."

Uiharu was still fumbling with her words when another voice spoke.

"With what power?" Saten's voice was dispassionate. Her eyes never rose from the floor. "He took down two Level 5's. You're a Level 4. Uiharu's a Level 1." Saten paused. "And I'm still a Level 0. We're nothing compared to a Level 5, let alone something even greater."

Saten's statement helped Uiharu's thoughts to finally establish themselves. "That's right! We should just leave this to Anti Skill. These kinds of things are their responsibility!"

Uiharu saw Kuroko's shoulders shaking. Kuroko stood there with her head hung, soundlessly convulsing, before finally slamming her fist against the door. "We're Judgement, Uiharu! It's our job to protect the students!" she blurted, her voice strained with emotion.

There was a deep silence.

At length Kuroko raised her head and steadied herself. "I will pass Judgment," in a softer voice, she added, "no matter who my opponent may be."

Then she was gone.

Uiharu's eyes darted around the room, unsure of what to do. Saten had closed her eyes and rested her chin in her hands. For Uiharu the silence seemed like an eternity.

"If she doesn't know what he looks like, she may be ambushed," Saten seemed to say to the air. "If you can find him on the tapes, Kuroko will be able to protect herself at least. Besides, when she exhausts herself she'll need you to carry her to her bed."

Uiharu looked past Saten at the bed Misaka rested upon. "But what about Misaka-san?"

Emotion finally returned to Saten, as a sardonic smile on her face and a slightly humored tone to her voice. "Don't worry; I'll be here if she wakes up. We Level 0's are good at sitting around." Before Uiharu could argue anymore Saten urged, "Go on, before we end up with two friends in the hospital."

Uiharu picked herself up and stood as solemn as her childish, tear-streaked face and flowered head could appear. "Understood," and with that she was running out the hospital door.

Alone, Saten's small smile remained. "What I'm good at, huh?"