Another day, another pile of rubble.
Kuroko arrived at the site just a few minutes after school let out, and the scene brought little pleasure to her face. Hardened caramel eyes surveyed the wreckage, which eventually coaxed out a sigh.
To best describe the sight, one would only need to employ a single word: a mess. A mess indeed, for an ominous cloud of ash shrouded the area and granted the sun little room to peek through. Neither was it shy, as the ash eagerly attached itself to whatever was nearby, such as a passing car, the neighboring towers, or the very investigators it had swallowed whole. Hours would pass before the air began to thin again, but that still left the city with a mountain of chunky ash to sweep up.
A little while after Kuroko began taking photographic records with her tablet, crunchy footsteps caught her attention. Approaching her was none other than Tachibana, the man with whom she'd become acquainted far too quickly. He fixed the helmet atop his head as he drew closer.
"Hasn't been too long, Miss Shirai," he greeted casually.
With yet another huff, Kuroko nodded. However, taking a deep breath only got ashes in her lungs, so she ended up coughing a storm before she could reply.
"Sure... hasn't," she wheezed during her fit. Tachibana watched until she calmed down, clearing her throat countless times. Promptly returning to her tablet followed. "Give me the rundown."
"This is Academy City's newest darling; another pile of ash to add to her collection..." he explained, his tone barren of shock. "Just got confirmation from Ueno: the Humaniterrorist has struck again."
"Isn't that peachy..." Kuroko muttered while quickly jotting everything down. "How old would you say this mess is?" she continued after seeing some smoke rise from the ground. She motioned to the sight. "It certainly doesn't look too old..."
"Damn right. The explosion went off approximately twenty-three eleven last night, which makes it little over half-a-day old. We still got plenty of smoldering pockets here and there, so watch your step."
Kuroko glanced down at her shoes, whose soles were made of simple rubber. They were a good tool against Misaka's furious shocks, but useless against fire; they'd melt in seconds if she stepped on the wrong spot at the wrong time. Tachibana's advice was sound.
"Last night..." she echoed hesitantly. Coincidentally (or perhaps not), Misaka happened to have some "errands" to run the night before. She didn't come back home until early in the morning, and the entire time she was gone, Kuroko failed to catch even a lick of sleep.
The connection worsened her already uneasy mood.
Except... Something seemed slightly off. Off enough to distract Kuroko from a moment of heartbreak. When she looked up, she found that the site was surrounded by tall, powerful buildings, all benevolently glaring down at them. Looking for too long made her dizzy, so she shook her head and returned her eyes to the ground.
"Strange. Most research facilities have their own private lot, so this couldn't have been one."
"It was a bank headquarters, actually. One for a company called 'Consumer First' or something. As far as I know, they were just a normal bank. No funny business practices... I think. It was a bank after all, so I wouldn't be surprised if there was at least something fishy going on."
Kuroko's thumb stroked her chin hesitantly, her dark eyes growing all the wearier.
"So she's changing her m.o..." she muttered.
"Oh? What's that? 'She'? Are we pretty sure the Humaniterrorist is a girl, Miss Shirai?"
When Kuroko's heart caught fire, so did her face. Palms weak and sweating, she turned to the man and quickly shook her head.
"I-I mean... I'm just assuming at this point. You know, after everything I said a few days ago... It sounds like a fairly reasonable assumption if you ask me."
"Oh yeah, since us guys're just heartless monsters. I remember now," he chuckled.
"Quit putting words in my mouth!"
When she and Tachibana parted ways, intending to do their own independent work, Kuroko took to wandering around the site aimlessly. For the most part, she snapped more photographs of various sights that seemed worth the trouble. In the meantime, she logged their coordinates and took additional notes.
Once, the job was interesting, refreshing, and new, but the moment tedious monotony set in, boredom set in as well. She had to practically force herself to document something that did not capture her interest, and she continued to wander out of a lust for something truly worthy of attention- a piece of evidence that would bring them leagues closer to their culprit.
That was precisely what she wanted... until she found it.
When she looked down after a while, she found her shoes caked in ash and soot. It came as no surprise to her, but it was a displeasing sight nonetheless. Kuroko scowled and knelt over, where she gently brushed off the blanket covering her toes.
"Looks like I get to wash these when I get back home," she grumbled. "Again..." When she brushed off her shoes a second time, however, she was in for a surprise: the tip of her finger barely whisked away a neighboring pile of ash, revealing what was buried underneath.
Kuroko did not immediately know what it was she had found, but she did the second she dug it out.
The object was plastic, burnt in multiple places. Barely as long as her finger, it was colored mostly green. It was molded to the shape of a certain, and familiar, reptilian character, a wide smile stretched across his lips.
Gekota.
To be more specific, a phone charm.
Kuroko recognized it. After all, it was a piece of the one she knew better than the back of her hand. She stared at it for ages, it seemed, dazed and lost.
As she slowly stood back up, the girl quickly checked her surroundings.
There were no officers for a good way.
She was out of sight.
Out of mind.
Hidden.
Alone.
She could not help but allow her eyes to wander back to the charm.
Like earlier, her hands began to quiver. Her heart pounded restlessly in her chest.
Unlike earlier, those feelings did not subside.
Instead, they worsened.
It got to the point where she had to clench her fists together, for her hands lost feeling.
Bitter tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly wiped them away, gritting her teeth angrily.
"So, Sissy," she hissed between her teeth. "Now that I've found this, what do you want me to do? Stupid girl." She cooled for only a moment. That was before the fire returned with a vengeance. "Stupid, stupid girl!"
Kuroko purposefully took her time coming home.
She purposefully volunteered to stay late at the office, bidding Uiharu a delicate farewell when the sun threatened to set. She purposefully meandered around the corner store on her way home. Following Misaka's orders, she was sent there to fetch snacks, but, for her own reasons, she acted as though she didn't know what Misaka liked to eat. For a while, she even pretended to forget her own preferences.
Of course, it was all an attempt to buy time.
If there was time available, she bought it, even if it starved her wallet and savings. She bought all the time she could until bankruptcy arrived to inhibit her from buying more. Its arrival made her ripe for a scowl. One spread across her face when a distant clock chimed twenty-one hundred. Curfew.
It was time to truly head home now... no matter how badly she wished to flee elsewhere.
As expected from routine, Kuroko found Misaka at her desk, scribbling away at homework. The door slammed shut behind the junior as if her presence had not already been made known. Misaka, having heard the arrival of her roommate, peeked over her shoulder and smiled.
"Hey, Kuroko. Did you get the snacks by any chance? I know work probably kept you late, so it's alright if you didn't get the time."
Kuroko approached her with a steep frown, the plastic bag rustling when she reached inside. From it, she withdrew a variety of bags and boxes, all colorful, promising to hold a sweet or tasty treat. They were each placed on Misaka's desk, designated to rest beside her sheets of homework.
"How much do I owe you?" asked Misaka after giving a word of thanks. She rose from her chair as if prepared to fetch her coin purse from the other side of the room. Eerily, however, Kuroko said nothing. It was what inspired the other to slowly seat herself again as she watched her hand dive into her skirt.
She withdrew something clenched in her tightened fist... so tightened, in fact, her knuckles suffered from whiteness. That same fist whammed against the surface of Misaka's desk without warning. It made sure to emphasize its importance; it landed in the middle of Misaka's work as if to demand her attention.
Mildly alarmed, Misaka slowly peered up to her junior, who gazed back grimly. Not much time was needed for her to figure out that Kuroko held something in her fist, and she fortified herself in preparation for the release of a frog or a lizard or a spider... something that would surely induce a reaction.
Induce a reaction it did.
Kuroko lifted her hand.
On the paper now rested a Gekota keychain.
It had been kissed by flames, and parts of its skin was caked in gray ash.
Misaka's face remained baffled for an unprecedented amount of time, but that was before she reached over and cheerfully retrieved her lost trinket.
"Aw, you found my old Gekota keychain? You really are the best, Kuroko. It's like you can track down anything!"
Kuroko paid her little mind, as she occupied herself with throwing her briefcase onto the bed so she could fish out her digital tablet.
"I dug that out of the wreckage today," she murmured before fiddling with the tablet.
It was a while before she carelessly tossed the device onto Misaka's desk as well. The senior's attention fled from the keychain and onto the screen, but she did not appear to take well to what was presented: a photograph of fresh rubble. "That was once the 'Consumer First' bank headquarters on the one-hundredth block. It was destroyed by an electrical fire around eleven o'clock last night." Misaka's eyes eventually wandered to the prejudice gaze of her roommate.
The Kuroko she spoke to at the moment was a Kuroko she saw rarely: a Kuroko hardened by professionalism, swayed by no emotion.
"U-Uh-huh..." Misaka started poorly, so she paused to recollect herself. "Wait... I thought this wasn't supposed to be public information."
"Just tell me what you were doing last night."
"Psh. I don't have to tell you. You're starting to sound like my possessive boyfriend or something. Look, I know I've given you some leeway with me lately, but that doesn't entitle you to all my business."
Her words were the cue for a second item to debut: Kuroko's verdant Judgment sash, which she retrieved from her pocket as well. Distaste plastered itself across her face as she roughly pinned it to the sleeve of her uniform. As Misaka watched, she grew visibly uneasy.
"I don't think you understand the weight of the situation," Kuroko sighed, straightening the ornament to where the emblem showed its proud face. "I didn't ask as a friend."
The officer's hand spread across the surface of Misaka's desk as she leaned closer. The suspect, though, remained stagnant, refusing to withdraw from her interrogator. They simply engaged in a staring match until one inevitably gave in: Kuroko, who shut her eyes and heaved.
"Pleading the Fifth, I see," she grumbled in defeat.
"Well within my right."
Dreariness, void of light, welled in the officer's eyes as they sunk to the floor. Quivering fingers reached up to the safety pin securing her sash, but they had neither the strength nor focus to fondle with it for long. As though it'd been robbed of its bones, her hand simply slumped back down, dangling at her side somberly.
Misaka knew precisely how to interpret the girl's lethargy.
But the lethargy did not last long. A prelude to anger was its only purpose.
Lethargy's offspring frightened the Electromaster.
Surely, she thought, the wrath of her just roommate was soon to be directed at her. When Kuroko was angry with her... legitimately angry with her... something was terribly amiss.
The anger was not toward her, though.
The anger snatched the charred Gekota resting atop sheets of school work. Anger clenched the trinket tightly in its clutches, shoulder blades raised like a grotesque, slobbering gargoyle... But anger disappeared when she opened her palm, studying the charm in its midst.
The somber air, who proved itself strongest, returned for good.
"I wish I'd never found this," she hissed, tone dripping with venom.
Misaka was brave to move so close to Kuroko in such a temperamental state. Or, perhaps, she was not brave at all; confident instead. She had no reason to believe Kuroko would snap at her, no matter how inappropriate her actions. As predicted, Kuroko remained motionless as her idol's delicate fingers reached into her hand to retrieve the subject of her ire.
One finger, her index, slipped into the loop sprouting from the character's head, and she studied its burn marks thoroughly. She was surprised to see Kuroko did not watch her.
"What will you do now?" asked the elder, refusing to watch her as well.
Back away.
That was what Kuroko decided to do.
Back away until she felt her bed, where she sat herself. Lifeless eyes remained on the floor the entire time, including the eternity that followed. One eternity later, Misaka decided to return to her schoolwork, silent as a mouse.
Only her pencil spoke for the next eternity, tapping and gliding across her papers. Not once did she peek over at the officer, nor had the snacks been touched since their delivery.
Math was done.
Onto Japanese.
Done.
English.
Done.
Science.
Done.
Never had homework felt so tiresome, so slow... and she'd most certainly had terrible homework nights before. At least, on those nights, she could consult her usual math tutor. But the math tutor uttered not a single word.
"Don't forget about the date we have with Uiharu and Saten tomorrow," Misaka reminded her out of the blue. "We're supposed to meet at the bus station at noon. Feels like forever since we've had a chance to hang out."
Though, they already knew neither Uiharu nor Saten could alleviate the tension between them. Misaka seemed to take solace in the idea of visiting their friends, but it was unclear why.
They couldn't help.
The details had no place mingling with them, and they had no place mingling with the details. The details belonged solely to them; the matter was between Misaka and Kuroko... and yet they refused to act as though they shared anything in common.
They slept alone in their beds.
The other was only across the room, barely a couple of meters away, but they felt so horribly alone. Cold, inky darkness enveloped the both of them, paralyzing them into motionlessness. It was a though a force kept one from speaking to the other, regardless of their word's contents.
The next day came, but it was not enough to wash away the indelible.
A perceptive pair, Uiharu and Saten picked up on the tension straight away. Kuroko was noticeably calmer than normal. She was always north, Misaka was always south; every chance she could, Kuroko clung to her. One of them, however, seemed to have flipped.
"Misaka! Shirai! Yoo-hoo! Over here!" Saten singsonged to the distant pair once catching eye of them. She swung an arm around excitedly. It was half-expected for her to recieve a jab from Uiharu's elbow, so it was a mystery why she was still surprised when she did.
"They can see us, you goofball," Uiharu snickered while stepping out of the way of a fellow pedestrian.
"Can't help it! I'm excited!" Saten cheered as Misaka trotted toward them. Kuroko followed further behind. "Alright! The gang's back together! What's the game plan for today? Shop? Eat? Movies? Park? All of the above?"
Misaka had to take a moment to collect the breath the sprint had stolen from her.
"Me? I'm down for anything," she chirped.
"Well, if that's the case..." Uiharu timidly spoke up, fingers fiddling with other fingers. "I'll admit that I might take advantage of our little meetup... It's time to get a new fridge for the apartment, so I figured I'd wait until I had someone around to help me move it." Predictively, her eyes wandered to Kuroko, who gazed back before long. "If Shirai's okay with me using her, of course. I doubt it'd take us too long, but uh... Oh..." It was the first time she'd actually studied the girl since her arrival. The sight put her at a loss for words.
Deep purple consumed the patches beneath her eyes, which sagged with exhaustion. Caramel irises cowered in the presence of a red invasion, and her eyelids seemed lofty. The sight gave Uiharu and Saten a valid license for concern, so they studied her closely.
"Wowzers, Shirai, you look like you've been to Hell and back today," Saten commented lightly before smiling devilishly. "Or did you forget to put your make-up on? Wait, do you normally wear make-up? I never paid much attention."
Like a champ, Kuroko brushed their concern aside and shook her head. From the dead she conjured a smile, which she presented against her better judgment.
"Mm... I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so I probably don't look that great." She glanced at Uiharu, whose face had grown distastefully worried. Kuroko attempted to ward it away with a smile. "I'm happy to help, Uiharu, but I might not be at the top of my game."
Uiharu's brows sank, and a motherly scowl followed.
"Did you seriously stay up all night working on all that new stuff? On a Friday? Geez, sometimes I can't stand you workaholics."
"I dunno, Uiharu. Shirai could've been up all night staring at you-know-who..." Saten's eyebrows performed a suggestive dance.
"She'll get a good smack if that's the case." Misaka's palm found itself on Kuroko's crown, and she roughly shook the girl's head about. She left Kuroko in a daze once she was finished.
Misaka played along with it.
So, they were playing along with everything...
Very well.
Kuroko never wanted to put on a dull, lifeless act. It was a superficial thing to do, and, at her core, she was not a superficial person. But, for the sake of preserving the privacy of their matters... she'd do as Misaka did.
"You know, I never figured refrigerator shopping would be fun, but look at us now!" Saten would say a while later. The quartet had wandered around the appliance store for ages, leisurely making frequent stops to gawk at things they didn't need (nor want to buy). It was after they were done touring up and down the dishwasher display they stumbled upon a city of refrigerators, all crisp and new.
Finally, they could start paying attention to what was for sale, especially the price tags. Being a student that lived alone, Uiharu understandably had a budget worth humoring. The other three scouted for fridges that suited her price range.
Saten was the most successful at finding potential suitors, but they always ended up being declined, be it for size, cosmetic, or age issues. While she did not find as many as Saten, Misaka found better quality fridges, still minding Uiharu's requirements.
Kuroko...stirred up trouble. Out of the blue, she appeared out of nowhere next to Uiharu. Following her was a large, bulky fridge, whose hull she gave a few hefty pats.
"How about this one?" asked the new arrival, but Uiharu did not answer.
"Um... Shirai, you probably shouldn't be moving those around."
As if Uiharu could predict the future, an angered employee furrowed his brows and barked from the counter.
"Teleporter! Quit moving the appliances!"
"Relax, relax!" Kuroko barked back. Eyes narrowed, she turned to Uiharu again, placed her palm against the appliance's side, and sighed. "Excuse me." She and the fridge disappeared shortly afterward.
Eventually, the group exhausted the store's supply, which was generous. Uiharu, thankfully, had picked out a few she was interested in, and she planned to do more sifting in order to slim her selection even more. All that needed to be done was left solely to her, which gave the other three, liberated from any responsibilities, the permission to kick back and relax again. Saten was the one to bring up another proposal.
"Hey, Misaka. Shirai. What do you say to checking out the wallpaper while Uiharu's making up her mind?" inquired the girl. Misaka nodded in approval almost immediately.
"Sounds like a good way to kill time," she agreed. Her eyes, as expected, wandered to Kuroko shortly afterward. It was the first time the two actually looked at one another since they visited the appliance store, and it showed. "Feel like coming, Kuroko?
Her eyes simply darted away.
"Nah. I don't wanna leave Uiharu by herself."
While Misaka's expression remained undaunted, Saten's eyes widened. When they seemed as though they were the widest they could get, they only widened more. Even Uiharu turned her head slightly to glance at the girl, who was not glad to find herself at the center of attention.
"Alright then," Misaka muttered casually. She nudged Saten's shoulder with a finger as a way to beckon her away. "We'll be wherever the wallpaper's at if you need us." She and Saten then walked away from the city of refrigerators, bound to venture deeper into the store.
Kuroko and Uiharu remained silent until the other pair disappeared behind another aisle.
It was as though the question had been pressing against Uiharu's teeth all day; as though it were a itch begging to be scratched. The soonest she could, she humored her impatience.
"Alright," she said. Though she was in a hurry to ask, she had to leash herself to properly word everything. "Is there something we need to talk about, Shirai? You'd leave me in a heartbeat if it meant you got to follow Misaka around. The tension between you two today isn't natural."
"Figured you'd pick up on it," Kuroko responded tiredly. "Then again, it's not like I'm trying to hide it..."
"Did the two of you have a fight recently?"
Eyes half-lidded, Kuroko's fingers began to anxiously fondle with the hem of her uniform's vest. She started to tug at a loose string, but she halted the vice the second she noticed.
"Something like that." A sigh escaped her mouth. "And I don't think it's something I should talk about... yet."
"Hm. Well..." Uiharu returned to the fridges, but her spirit remained with the conversation. "I guess it's only natural for two people to get mad at each other here and there, especially when they live together. Just remember I'm here to listen whenever you're ready to talk."
Kuroko may never talk about it, though.
Kuroko and Uiharu, in a way similar to how she and Misaka did the night before, left the subject to rot.
As planned, the four agreed on a place to meet when Kuroko and Uiharu were done delivering and setting up the newly-purchased fridge. Misaka and Saten patiently awaited their return, occupying themselves at the arcade in Seventh Mist in the meantime.
The other two unexpectedly ran into a few complications while settling the new appliance in its home, which delayed their return to the mall. They bid their apologies to Misaka and Saten, who'd been waiting around for seemingly ages after wasting all their arcade tokens (Misaka did not spend all of hers, as she was in need of some extra Railgun ammunition). With the group reunited, they could finally get to the fun stuff... The things normal friends did, such as poking around clothing stores in search of new outfits or goofy get-ups to make fun of.
However... Kuroko's mood was noticeably damp, and it most certainly had an effect on those around her. Tired eyes did not hide a certain darkness, a malevolent, cloudy storm of worry and sorrow. One particular thing would not leave her mind, and it resisted her attempts to push it away. She grew angry at the emotion. It was what prevented her from enjoying her time with the most important people in her life...
Especially that girl over there. The one patting Saten on the back in approval of a hat she was trying on. The one with the auburn hair, clad in a Tokiwadai uniform just like her. She was smiling. It was not a fake smile. It was the genuine, innocent smile of the one she loved more than anything. She would be the one to know which of her smiles were real and which of her smiles were fake. The peace on her face was unmistakable, even in light of such dirty, dirty things.
That girl. Mikoto Misaka...
Was a terrorist.
No.
Kuroko refused to believe that. She knew Misaka top and down. Inside and out. Around and in-between. Her Misaka, her love, was not the Humaniterrorist. Not the Misaka she knew. The Misaka she knew had a strong sense of justice. Granted, she was not quite as lawfully sound as Kuroko herself, but her morals were never ambiguous. She chased down bad guys as a sport, and she took it upon herself to help those in need. She was a light that could not be corrupted, not even by her own power, fame, and glory.
Misaka wasn't the one. There was simply no way.
And if... somehow... she werethe one... she still wouldn't be.
It was time to get back to work, otherwise the insanity would surely devour her from the inside out. Get back to work Kuroko did; with a quick word given to her pack, Kuroko took her leave from the jungle of clothes racks and ventured to the center of the store. Her trademark sash found itself pinned to her sleeve once more as she approached the front counter.
A man worked there. He seemed inconspicuous enough, save for the fact that his age was uncommon for an employee. Regardless, he seemed friendly enough, as he politely greeted her approach.
"Hello, officer. I saw you having fun with your friends over there. Is it time to go to work?"
"I guess that's one way to put it," Kuroko responded, eyes hardening for business. Upon the counter one of her elbows found a home, and she then began digging for the cellphone in her pocket. "I've been assigned to work on a big case, so it's something I need to juggle with everything else in my life." Her phone was prepared to take notes.
"Well, don't work yourself too hard, missy, otherwise you'll end up with wrinkles like me!" The man then laughed at himself.
"Right..." Kuroko did not appear to be in a joking mood. "I was wondering if you knew anything about the fire on the one-hundredth block."
"You mean the bank that burned down?"
"That's the one."
"Oh, it's just terrible. To think a place like Academy City would be the target of such destruction! I can only pray nobody was seriously hurt when that place came crumbling down... Feels like the world is getting more and more dangerous these days. If this great city isn't a safe haven, what is?"
Kuroko could conclude he knew nothing based off the way he spoke. His reaction, as far as she could tell, was standard; not the sort of reaction to be expected of someone who was aware of more intimate details than the average citizen. Her energy was best exhausted elsewhere.
None of her friends took well to the sight of her Judgment sash, now proudly displaying its emblem on her arm. Their faces dropped when she returned to them just as drained as before.
"Aw, did you get called back to work?" Saten groaned while leaning against a rack. "And we've been planning this for such a long time..."
"Not really. I just figured I'd take care of a few things while I was out."
To her surprise, Misaka gave her a warm smile. Another genuine smile. Kuroko normally loved the sight of those, but that one made her sick to the stomach.
"Just try not to let it keep you from having fun with us, okay?" she required. Albeit quietly, Kuroko agreed to comply.
The smile haunted her, and it continued to haunt her as they abandoned the store empty handed. Kuroko walked with her eyes to the ground, though they should've been fixed up. With her sash equipped, she communicated she was on duty. She was expected to be perked and alert, and she was not to disappoint such expectations...
Especially if those expectations would help her. When she finally looked up, she caught eye of a man. Not just any man, but an employee of the mall, who was hunkered down on his knees before a kiosk. An electrician, it seemed, for he'd pried off the panel from the kiosk's surface to expose its innards. Thin strings of electricity flowed from the tips of the man's fingers as he attempted to put life back into the stand.
Another Electromaster.
The ideal person to speak with.
Kuroko departed from her herd again after telling Uiharu what she wanted from the vendor they were headed toward. Not a moment passed before she'd teleported her way over a crowd of people, landing at the electrician's side. Her presence was noticed almost immediately, for the man's head turned toward her with a scowl.
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
"That makes two of us." Again, Kuroko dug a phone out of her pocket and activated it in preparation to take notes. "I need to ask you a few questions."
"Hmph. You're from Judgement, right? Come to ask me about all the sabotage that's been going on around the city?" the man inquired. He was awfully perceptive, or simply familiar with the question she was prepared to ask.
"Um... Yes, actually," Kuroko responded. She was baffled for a moment, wondering if the man actually had a type of Clairvoyance ability instead of electric (despite having just watched him produce electricity from his bare hands), but Tachibana's previous statements came to mind: Anti-Skill had already interviewed a good bulk of Academy City's Electromasters about the case, and the electrician was undoubtedly one of those Electromasters.
"Anti-Skill's already asked me a shitload of questions, and it's annoying as hell. I don't have anything to do with those explosions and I don't know a thing. Carry on with your work, ma'am, you're wasting your time with me." He turned back to the kiosk as if to imply his refusal to converse any further, but Kuroko pursued him. It was one of the things she was good at after all.
"May I take a look at your license, sir?" she inquired calmly, but her response was not nearly as calm.
"What the hell do you need it for?" he growled while itching his thick mustache. Static danced inside it in the meantime.
"It's just so I can log you into the database. You must've been missed," she answered gracefully, though the man's grouchiness was certainly peeving. "Once I'm done with that, you can be sure you'll not be bothered again about this investigation."
To her chagrin, he began muttering indecipherable jargon. Luckily, he did so while sitting straight up to bury a thick, calloused hand into his dingy pants pocket. From it, he retrieved a worn wallet, from which he dug out an identification card. He showed it to her, but he retracted when she reached out in attempt to take it.
"You don't need to hold it, ma'am. My name's right there," he growled.
"I'm farsighted." She snatched it anyway and immediately began studying the name. Afterward, she pretended to punch it into her cellphone.
"You mean nearsighted."
"Sure. Whatever."
"You might want to consider getting some glasses, young lady."
Ignoring him was the best option after that. She'd gotten what she wanted, so there was no need to stir up any more of a fuss. Once finished acting as though she'd recorded all its information, Kuroko crisply handed the card back to the man, who snatched it.
"I appreciate your cooperation," she muttered lifelessly as the man roughly shoved his identification into his wallet. It was important to note that he put the wallet in his right back pocket. "I hope you have a nice day."
"Hmph. Whatever. I need to get back to work."
A pair of caramel, but bleak, eyes maintained a watch over the man, who obliviously continued his repairs on the kiosk. Her watch, her hesitation, continued as she returned to her circle (or square, since there were four of them) and took a seat at the table they'd claimed.
"Give the guy a thorough interrogation?" Misaka inquired upon her return, sliding a quaint slice of key lime pie over to the girl. She had been so distracted by her watch over the man that she failed to notice the sliding pie until it was too late; the plate fell off the edge, but her sharp reflexes allowed her to rescue it with minimal damage.
"Didn't take long if she did," Uiharu commented with a giggle. She pat her coworker's shoulder playfully. "Nice catch, by the way."
"Turns out he's already been asked. Anti-Skill forgot to take him off the list."
But the man's information or knowledge was not what was important, however. What was important was that card. The identification card. It was approximately thirty or so meters away, snugly tucked away in his wallet's third sleeve. That wallet rested in the man's right pocket, hiding the card away so that none would see it...
Until the card, unbeknownst to any, including its owner, departed from the wallet like a phantom. In Kuroko's hand it now rested, and it dove into a safe place before it could be spotted by her peers.
That blasted card... She spent time staring at it. Too much time. With Misaka in the bath, she had the comfort to place it freely on her desk, where it rested before her laptop. A text file, the report on the charred remains of a bank, was open on the monitor, begging for Kuroko to pull her attention from the card...
But she couldn't. She couldn't find the strength to.
What if Anti-Skill found out about what she planned to do? If they found out who had done everything? She would be booted from Judgment and stripped of whatever honor the organization had given her. Even worse, she'd spend time, perhaps the rest of her younger years, behind bars. She'd hardly ever get to see Misaka again, assuming she would come to see her at all. Perhaps she would pay a visit or two... After all, it was for her sake that she landed herself in prison in the first place.
The defeatist's attitude didn't suit Kuroko. She had to get herself out of that ugly valley. Most knew she made herself known for her determination, and determination would be what would keep her from undesirable outcomes. So long as she was thorough, articulate, and detailed, nothing could go wrong; she was more than familiar with how the system worked, and it could easily be manipulated to cater to her will.
Again, two harsh eyes studied the card resting on her desk. As it was at the moment, there was no way she could make her... alternate facts... believable. A few cosmetic alterations could provide an easy fix, though. All she had to do was hold it over one of the science department's Bunsen burners, waiting until tiny flames began consuming its edges. All would be well if she made sure to abort the flame before it ate too much of the owner's face and name.
It was the perfect plan, and it was nigh certain to work. Should it not work, it would at least throw the trail askew and cause great disruption to the investigation...
Except one thing was wrong: her.
That just bone in her body... It scowled at her with mortified disgust. It couldn't believe the things she'd done so far, the things she'd thought of doing...
Though it said nothing, it made its opinion more than clear, and there was no way Kuroko could avoid its scathing gaze. Unease welled in her core, and it made her queasy. At the worst time, it seemed, her eyes randomly landed on the man's face on the card. He didn't seem happy in the photograph, but he did not seem upset either. It was a... human expression, and it haunted the onlooker.
Human.
Human.
She looked at the face of another human being. Nothing of his personal life was known to her, but it was not beyond reason to assume he had people he cared for. A sickly mother or father, perhaps. A motherless child, perhaps, or a grieving wife. Dreams and aspirations, those held since youth... perhaps he was working toward those. He might've been close to them, chilled by the breath of what he desired the most.
No.
No, no, no!
Emotion peaked, and her forehead found itself on her desk as well, resting atop the card. Arms spread across the surface, her fist began pounding angrily atop a pile of paperclipped work. The fit continued until she lost the energy and drive, leaving her to wallow in defeat.
She couldn't do it.