Hey, hey, hey! Guess who's publishing twice this month? It's your alcoholic bud, NeoShadows!

Bet you weren't expecting anything else for another month...or two. Shut up, it takes time for good stuff to come out. Haven't any of you ever cooked before? Ya got to pick out the right ingredients, assemble all the right tools and pots, prep, cook to the right temperature, taste, and add on or cut off any unnecessary fat to the dish until you're satisfied with your cooking. And I, of all people, am all about serving decent and filling meals to the masses!

Now, I bet you're wondering what this little fic is, huh? Well to be frank, whenever I am writing my stories, I tend to hit roadblocks or get into a slump; I get bored too, sue me. So, in order to keep the writing flow going in order to not lose my touch, I start working on random stories to keep my muse intact. Over the years I've come up with several, got a few finished and in need of polishing, or half an idea half-done and jutted down to not forget. Or my buddies on Discord have come up with a writing challenge and I decided to write something up too. Whenever I'm stuck, I go back to these ideas and stories and work on them for fun.

And so, in order to treat you all for sticking around as long as you have, I decided why not? Since I got a whole bunch of one-shots locked up, why not fire them off? And it would be a nice little Christmas gift too!

...Huh? What do you mean it's January 22nd? So what? Where's your fucking Christmas spirit?

So, I present to you Of Lines That Could Be Found In Between! A series of one-shots based on random ideas, rare pairings, and possible stories I had hoped to publish but never got around to doing. My personal trove of guilty pleasures cracked wide open for all to enjoy to your heart's content. More of which will be explained at the end.

And boy, do I got a rare one-shot for all of ya's to dig into. Not exactly the one I had originally been planning on releasing as the first chapter but I still love it. Hope you do too!

Now, scroll damn you!


Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to A Certain Magical Index. All rights are reserved to Kazuma Kamachi.


Chapter 1: Mother Knows Best.

Repay_The_Hero.

[-]

Los Angela's population of 30 million had been saved. The threat of R.C. Occultics was temporarily quelled with the defeat of Cinitris of The Third Stage; Vice President of The United States, and the grounding of all twelve Logistic Hornets. From the soft crushed beds of earth, the entire population of America's second most populated city arose from the sand as if they had just woken up from a long sleep. No harm had come to a single one of them. From adult, child, infant, and even animal, those who had been broken down into fertile composition for over twenty-four hours were alive and well.

Unknown to those 30 million, the hero of the story went without reward or thanks by those who had been freed from the sands. The name of their savior went without notice. It was entirely likely that they would continue living the rest of their lives blissfully unaware of the one person who had braved a literal sandstorm of crushing sand and showers of razor fine tempered glass to save them. For all they likely knew, it had been the efforts of their government that had finally come to the rescue. The blood, sweat, and tears of a single boy who could only resolve matters with an ordinary fist would never be acknowledged.

Kamijou Touma, the story's hero, would go on without a single word of gratitude from those who passed him by under the hot sunny streets of L.A.

And that was fine with him.

The Japanese high school boy, who had traveled from a technologically advanced city ahead of the entire world by over thirty years, saw no purpose in any reward for what he had done.

Honestly? Just being able to sit down, and enjoy a greasy meal full of calories and trans fat, alongside a gaggle of identical girls cloned after the #3 Railgun, Index, Othinus, and the mother and daughter pair known as Melzabeth and Helcalia, was enough. The fact that Index was happily scarfing down her own large platter of burgers(which were most likely made of patties recently popularized in the states as Impossible Meat that were processed after unknown chemicals and vegetables) without reaching over to his food was a reward for itself. One far more valuable and impossible to ever grasp than any kind of monetary reward or medal made of precious metals.

He said as much while biting down on his own giant questionable burger while being smothered by a hornet nest of middle school girls wearing tactical goggles.

"A proper meal, even if it is greasy and made with mystery meat or goo, is really all I could ask for, Melzabeth-san. Even if it tasted weird, and made my tongue prickly and numb, I'd still eat it if you offered it for free. Don't underestimate the pride of a lowly Level-0 with only a few hundred yen to his name! Even a pile of stale fries would be heaven after the mess I just went through!"

Melzabeth, the silver-haired lovely brown-skinned Indian-British American mother who had been coveted by the lonely but monstrous Annabel Springel, stared at the proud-faced boy taking a large bite of a burger.

"This is...fine? You really don't want to ask for anything else?"

She was unsure if the spiky-haired boy understood his situation. Was her Japanese off? She refused to believe he was so dull-headed or stupid to realize what it was he had just done. Not only for her but for the entire population of America's second-most populated city.

Currently, they were all seated in a diner, one owned by a dear and close family friend. After being reunited with her daughter in the crowded streets of L.A. in the aftermath of the joint attack by Academy City and the Anglicans, they had decided to move location to a safe space where they could all relax and discuss what had transpired during the Vice President's takeover operation. And since they(including over a dozen identical military clones wearing tactical gear) were all hungry due to the day's long battle, she had decided to see if her friend could open up said diner to feed the heroes of the story.

Somehow the sight of her little quaint diner opening the doors for a small party had become like the floodgates opening as crowds after crowds of populace decided now was the perfect time to celebrate with burgers and soda.

It had taken some calls but the workers who managed the diner had rushed in to feed the masses with smiles on their faces despite the ordeal they had gone through. Even those employees who deserved to go out and enjoy the day now that they were no longer grains of pulverized nutrients were simply happy to be back to work. This was why she was able to sit down with Helcalia on her lap and enjoy the company of those who had protected her precious treasure from harm.

Her own burger was set aside, half-eaten, and now being eyed by her still peckish daughter. With a warm smile, she gestured for Helcalia to dig in.

The way her little girl's eyes brightened up like literal stars made her heart soar and almost brought her to tears.

The valuable gem she had hidden away from the darkness of another world had been salvaged and saved. The slicing talons of a sinister vulture hadn't swooped her beloved treasure and torn it to pieces. What she had prayed as a miracle in her final moments before her body was preserved in countless grains of sand had come true.

And the one who had followed the subtle clues, the random pieces of hope, and had gone as far as to protect her name from her own doubtful daughter, sat right across from her.

It was because of the Japanese teenager named Kamijou Touma that her daughter had been able to escape the likes of Citrinitas, otherwise known as the Vice President of the United States: Darris Hewlane.

Touma shrugged, the action rubbing against the cheek of what he was told was a Misaka Sister(#1609).

"When you think about it, what did I do? I'm basically an illegal foreigner who invaded America and picked a fight with the Vice President of The United States. I'm lucky to have not been sent to jail considering my rotten misfortune. Didn't I break some major political laws by breaking the jaw of the second in command of the world police? It's just like when I was fighting the second princess during the coup in Britain. I've already been locked up in the Tower of London and tortured by a jealous bar code-tatted fourteen-year-old priest once; I don't want to know what America would do."

"The Second Princess of Britain, The Vice President of The United States of America, both Academy City's Head Chairman, the ex-leader of the Anglican Church: what's next? Are you set for punching the faces of the entire UN at this pace?" muttered the blonde-haired barbie doll wearing a revealing bikini and witch hat on his shoulder.

The shocking tidbit of information caused the Japanese boy to tense up. Anxious sweat ran down his dirty face as he struggled to swallow his meal.

"A-Anyway, I didn't do any of this for some kind of reward. Nor do I need the President personally thanking me for putting an end to a fight I started with R.C. Occultics CEO. Just like every other incident I've come across, I fought and struggled because it was what I wanted. At the center of it all was nothing more than me wanting to punch someone's face for causing a little girl to view her own mother as some villain. Trust me, if I hadn't been dragged over to L.A. and only heard about the disaster over the TV of my hospital room, I would have thought it was terrible but I wouldn't have leaped out to do anything. Besides, in the end, I wasn't the one to have saved us all. Doesn't the title of hero go to you?"

Melzabeth would have done a spit take if she had been drinking her cola. She stared owlishly at the smiling foreigner as he pointed to her with a ketchup-dipped fry.

"W-What? Hero? I think you're mistaken, Kamijou-san. I wasn't able to do any more than leave behind a few breadcrumbs that weren't of any use in the long run. All my hard work amounted to no more than tucking away my daughter in the final moments before I was reduced to sand. I'm hardly anything worthy of being a hero. It was my invention that had aided the villains in engulfing all of Los Angeles in their magic tsunami of sand. When it comes down to it, I had a hand in the tragedy of over three million being broken down into grains. I was largely responsible for this dreadful disaster!"

"But you're the one who saved me."

"Pardon?"

Gulping down the last of his free meal, Touma explained the miracle that had been enough to protect even this luckless boy. The smile on his face was simple, far too ordinary and normal to fit the kind of explanation he was speaking of.

"Logistic Hornet. Those next-generation spacecraft capable of launching smaller crafts into space with a mass driver and electromagnetics to control the meteorological conditions of an entire city with liquid nitrogen were capable of amplifying Citrinitas sand magic to create sandstorms large enough to engulf an entire state in one big wave. Something that powerful and intricate shouldn't have been able to fly due to the many differences in temperature, humidity, weather, wind directions, and altitude. Something that bizarre should have crashed minutes after breaking into the clouds. Which is why you created the Melzabeth Method, rigging artificial spinal cords to the massive spacecraft to better adjust to the minute changes without the triangle-shaped behemoth breaking apart. I can't say I understood everything I heard about how each of the Logistic Hornets was inputted with your conscious thought, but I understood who had saved me from crushing despair. Even if people would throw up their hands with sneers and complaints about the logistics of it all, it was your creations that had rejected the orders of those who desired to further abuse their designs."

A crispy fry dipped in ranch pointed directly at the surprised single mother as Touma grinned.

"Melzabeth-san, you were the one responsible for this happy ending. You're the one who saved your daughter. You were the one who defeated those bastards who thought they could turn your dream and desire to never repeat a tragic death like your husband's into something vile. Not even that haughty Anna Springel could break you. What you believed to be nothing more than wasted efforts were definite cracks even an idiot like me could take advantage of to shatter their illusions. Me? A hero? Don't count yourself short. You're the pretty-faced heroine who saved the day and I can't thank you enough for coming to our rescue."

Genuine sincerity.

Faintly, Melzabeth found her lower lip quivering as the boy who protected millions and her own precious daughter casually deflected any thanks or rewards for his efforts. Instead of soaking in the spotlight as he had been bloodied and bruised, he careened the bright light onto someone else who he believed played a far more important role than he did. He didn't believe himself as the hero of the story.

No, instead he decided that despite what she had done, her part in this tragedy, she was the one who deserved the praise and gratitude.

In Kamijou Touma's eyes, he didn't deserve it. Something so wonderfully warm and kind wasn't his to accept. He wandered away from the celebration with a satisfied tug on his lips and no one to pat his back as he went forgotten in the cheers and thanks, content with simply knowing others were happy to return to their lives.

As the forgotten hero bit into his fry with a pleasant smile, doing his best to appease the hive of short hair brunette clones smothering him alongside a starving silver-haired nun, Melzabeth found herself biting her lower lip.

Was...was this really enough? Was this fine? A meager meal of greasy burgers and fries? Was that truly a fitting reward for a boy who had fought a terrifying magician who had reduced Los Angela's entire population into piles of sand? Was this fair?

"Mommy? Are you okay? Your face looks funny?"

Melzabeth offered her worried daughter a gentle smile.

And the pressure only intensified at the sight of those innocence and naive orbs she cherished.

'It wasn't just the people he had saved. You protected my precious little Helcalia through it all. You preserved this adorable little gem without even being begged or asked to. You even protected my image so that she didn't believe I was a despicable villain who cared more about profit than human lives. What's left of my family, you saved it without even being asked to. So, how can I simply forget about what you've done for me when you must have suffered too?'

"Touma! You ate what was left of the fries! Now, what am I going to eat with my burgers and shakes?"

"Don't give me that pout! I know for a fact that we had seven baskets of fries to share between all of us and I've only been able to eat a small handful! You can't blame the Sisters either! At least they're kind enough to share with this hungry Kamijou-san without being asked!"

"Say 'ahh', says Misaka 10290 as she hovers over a golden crisped fry for the Savior to eat, all while tilting her head meekly for added affection points."

"Would you like a drink to quench your thirst, says Misaka 10239 as she offers her own cola beverage while blushing at the thought of scoring an indirect kiss."

"Oh, no, says Misaka 11092 as she deliberately spills ketchup on her unbuttoned uniform color and an open bit of cleavage. It appears we are out of napkins, meaning you will have to clean up this Misaka's clumsy mistake with your tongue."

"Misaka doesn't even fucking care about discretion! Fuck the slow and easy approach! This Misaka just wants to fuc-!"

"Can you Sisters stop shoving food in my face?! There's a straw prodding my nose, a fry dipping into my eyes, a napkin rubbing on my temple, a burger mashing into my chin, a nun's jaw nibbling on the back of my head, a mini-war god twisting my ear, and-Oi! Who's hand is that rubbing on my thigh!?"

"Meow!"

"Sphinx?! W-Wait, what are you doing? Did a fry fall on my lap? Hold on, why are you unsheathing those deadly claws of yours with a predatory gleam in your eyes? Weren't you left behind with Fukiyose and Himegami!? Don't tell me one of you sisters brought a cat here too!"

Whatever thoughts were burdening Melzabeth's consciousness concerning the spiky foreigner were forgotten as she giggled at the sight of cute clones swarming said boy with affection while his companion jealously bit down on his head. And now it seemed a black cat joined in as the kitty began pawing his sharp claws on the thighs of his master's friend because he found a tasty treat.

Patting Helcalia's head, Melzabeth set her daughter down from her lap and removed herself from the booth.

"It's alright, Index-san. There's no need to worry about going hungry today. Everything is on the house, no matter what a certain someone might say." she said with a motherly tone to Touma was ready to open his mouth to argue, "You can all eat as much as you'd like for all you've done. So, I'll be right back with a few more plates for you to scarf down to your heart's content!"

"Touma! I might be in love."

"Where's that love for this Kamijou-san who provides you a roof over your head, a TV to watch anime all day and play games, clothes, food, and a bed? Sometimes I feel as if I'm some househusband married to some cute nee-OW! Why are you biting me again?! Your face is burning red, so did I say something to really piss you off? Was it the Neet comment?"

"Stupid Touma!"

"Why are you pouring ketchup onto my head?! Have you finally grown tired of the taste of the back of my head and decided to try condiments to spice things up?!"

Departing the rambunctious table with a laugh, Melzabeth made her way through the trickling guests that had remained after the large party of people who had wandered in for a bite to eat. Or a chance to gawk at the military clones who huddled against some bland-faced boy from Japan. She offered smiles and small talk to the regulars she was familiar with, thanked the workers who had decided to help out after the ordeal they had gone through to serve them, and quickly entered the back of the house to enter the kitchen.

Now that things had calmed down after the sudden breakfast rush, the kitchen staff was going about cooking smaller meals for those who remained or cleaning up the kitchen so that they may close. Today was a special day and the manager refused to keep any of them here longer than necessary. The sounds of dishes being washed, the sizzle of meat and fries dipped in oil, and voices laughing amid it all was a pleasant racket she found herself desperately missing.

Her blue eyes searched for one person among the staff, zeroing in on a tall tanned-skinned lanky man walking out of the back office. The man was the general manager of the family diner, the one responsible for running the day-to-day activities such as hiring staff, counting the draws, teaching new hires, and ordering their produce and ingredients for the week.

He was a close family friend, one who had gone out of his way to feed them despite having every right to go back to his own family after emerging from a sea of silver sand.

"Ramon! How is everything going back here? Are you having any trouble? Is everyone feeling well?"

The Latin man blinked as he caught the eye of Melzabeth, a weary but pleased smile stretching on his face as he smoothed back his gelled black-gold striped hair.

"Everything's fine, Melzabeth. I admit some of us got sore joints here and there, but we're all pretty well-rested despite that weird dirt nap we took. Haven't really got any complaints from the boys and girls. What about you? I thought you were having breakfast with your daughter and those foreigners. Ya may have worked her long ago but that's no reason for you to try and jump in to help."

Melzabeth crossed her arms over her chest with a childish pout similar to her own daughter. Ramon couldn't help but snort in amusement as he laid back against the back office door.

"I already feel bad enough asking you all to work, you know? Can't I wander back here to see how you are all doing?"

"'Esta bien, but we got things covered here. Not like we'll be open the entire day anyway." he waved off the concern with an amused chuckle, "We're just finished up a couple more orders and getting things ready to close up for the day. I already had someone run out to the dining room to turn off the Open sign and let the cashiers know that we're done taking orders so we can start shutting it down. So, don't worry your pretty little head about a thing. Don't you have some guests to entertain anyway?"

Melzabeth laughed awkwardly at the mention of said guests. Specifically their rather large appetites.

"About that: would it trouble you all if you cooked up another large order of fries and burgers before you closed the kitchen? Oh, and throw in a few milkshakes too, please!"

As annoying as such a task would be to those who were already in the process of shutting off the hot grills for cleaning, Ramon shrugged casually with a brow quirked. His dark brown eyes peered past the silver-haired woman to the door leading out to the dining room where an odd sight could be found.

Clones.

Actual living, breathing, not sci-fi movie-produced props made with digital software or mirrors. A gaggle of cloned girls wearing military goggles, deadly rifles slung on their backs, and expressionless eyes wearing Japanese middle school uniforms were sitting and chowing down on burgers like it were an everyday event. As a fan of sci-fi movies, the Mexican-American GM/Owner had nearly feinted when those cloned brunettes had walked behind his friend's lead.

He had questions. Everyone did. It wasn't every day one waked up from a literal dirt nap(or sand nap) as the Vice President was arrested in some creepy white S&M full-body suit and a small army of cute cloned girls emptied their guns into robots designed after jellyfish, praying mantis and crabs. Los Angeles wasn't your average city, it had its quirks, but seriously; what the fuck happened when he was knocked out?!

If he slapped himself, would he wake up from this B-rated movie plot found only on a sci-fi tv network?

Strangely, at the forefront of his thoughts concerning the crazy events that had transpired, one thought struck him.

"I'm guessing it's for those girls and...the Japanese boy, right?" he said slowly as he scratched the back of his head.

Amid the military clones and even the literal nun wearing a white robe decorated with gold bobby pins as if to hold it together, it was the high school foreigner who stuck out as odd out of all of them. That normal, ordinary, bland, and plain boy whose only interesting feature was the obviously gelled hair. Such a boy wouldn't have been anyone Ramon would have really noticed. Even in the states of good old America, if he passed him by at the intersection on his way to work, he would have never given him a passing glance if they so much as bumped into another on accident. It was like finding a red apple in a basket of exotic and colorful fruit. The only thing worthy of interest in that high school-looking boy would be all the blood and bruises littering his face.

Yet it was that normal-faced boy who had gathered the attention of not only those cute clones but even the well-known genius single mother known as Melzabeth Grocery.

The way said woman's face lit up at the mention of the boy made it all the more suspicious.

Melzabeth at this point and time wanted nothing more than to explain everything. To spill the secrets and the chaos which had transpired in the time they had all been dissolved into fermentation by her own creation and a magician. To speak about the ordinary boy who had arrived to the rescue of 30 million people and fought against a sandstorm spurn by a next-generation spacecraft capable of manipulating the meteorological weather patterns.

In front of her stood someone who had been saved by that boy who sat behind their doors, who deserved thanks and praise for his heroics, and to be showered in nothing but gratitude.

She closed her mouth before those words she desired to say out loud could break free.

No, it was not her place to reveal such a thing. She had no right to. Not when the very hero had no desire for such attention falling onto him. Somehow, she felt as if she would be betraying the image of the gentle high school boy if shouted his name out to the entire city that was in his debt.

Unknowingly, she made said boy all the more suspicious in the employee's eyes as her gaze flicked back to the dining room door.

"Yes, indeed. Those lovely girls are starving and have worked up quite a meal after fighting for us while we were all sleeping. I feel it's only right to treat them to a feast worthy of bursting their stomachs. As for the Sister, Helcalia told me she and Kamijou had been protecting her this entire time. Said something about protecting her from some delinquent who smelled of cigarettes with a bar code tattooed to his face."

"Kamijou?"

The name itself stood out far more than its bearer.

Melzabeth nodded pleasantly with a small grin poking out.

"He would be the Japanese boy being smothered by all those cute clones."

Lucky bastard, Ramon absently thought as he remembered how all those middle school girls swarmed over the boy like ants to sweets.

"During all the trouble, he protected little Helcalia from harm while I was gone. I didn't even ask for his help, let alone even know who he was. He's a complete stranger who appeared out of nowhere to save my daughter, fed her, and took care of her when everyone disappeared. He even went out of his way to find me and bring me back to see her."

The way she spoke of the boy was warm and pleasant. It was reminiscent of how a young girl would speak about the cool-faced hero who had come to her rescue from a band of thugs brandishing knives from the dangerous alleys of the city. She already looked young for her age but just mentioning the Japanese boy made her appear even more youthful than she already was; she was absolutely beaming.

Ramon would give credit where credit was due. He too was thankful for what his friend said of the boy. Anyone who would go out of their way to not only guard a kid but the adorable little tyke that was the extreme health nut that was Helcalia was good people in his books. A guy like that deserved a meal on the house.

For reasons he couldn't understand, Touma began to weep tears of joy in the swarm of blue and white stripes known as the Misaka Legion.

A quick shout to those cooks on the line brought a pleasant hiss of sizzling burgers onto the grill.

"Nino's got my thanks then. He must have gone through a lot of trouble if he's come in with all those bruises and blood dirtying his face. Reminds me of what I looked like during my younger days in the streets! An ex-delinquent recognizes another delinquent, so I shouldn't be surprised."

With the last of the meals for the day being prepped up, Ramon pushed off the back counter and set his sights on the back office.

"Seriously though, Mel." he said in a more familiar tone to the single mother, "Don't worry about us back here and go back to enjoying yourself. I honestly can't remember the last time I saw you sitting down with little Helcalia with how you've been so focused on your work involving those spacecrafts. Kick back, relax, forget about all that stressful work, and entertain those kids out there. Might as well give that Japanese boy a thank you kiss for watching out for your kid."

"..."

Ramon had to pause and turn his head back to catch said silver-haired brown-skinned mother meekly looking away like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar by her stern father.

"...It was just a little kiss on the cheek."

"...I didn't know you were that kind of chica. I suppose it's always the gentle and sweet ones, huh."

The very fact she hadn't casually dismissed him as her face grew hot made it all the more jaw-dropping.

Again, lucky bastard.

'It was just a little kiss.'

For reasons she couldn't fathom, those measly little words continued to bounce back and forth in her mind as Melzabeth returned to the booth.

Was...was that enough?

[-]

All celebrations had to come to end eventually. The festivities brought about from the resurrection of over thirty million from a mysterious phenomenon sparked by the now ex-vice president of the united states calmed down like any party. It was a short celebration full of cheer and rejoicing after returning from a dreadful incident a large majority of the populace was puzzled by. Men, women, and children would find themselves tuckered out and leave the busy streets for home to relax in the comfort of their homes.

For one Kamijou Touma, he would love nothing more than to return to his small little dorm fit for one but housing nothing but freeloaders. He'd been up since the 26th after spending the entirety of Christmas in the hospital with tubes containing odd-colored liquids stuck to his body and bandages wrapped up over every inch of his skin. All he'd gotten was a day of sleep before being woken up to chase after the shadow of Anna Sprengel in L.A. where he was caught up in another high-level fight against an overpowered boss who turned out to be the second most influential man in all of the United States. He'd been running non-stop, fighting all day, gritting his teeth through injury after injury, and faced a literal tsunami of crushing sand that had swallowed all of L.A. in minutes.

After another hard-fought battle a high school boy should have never stepped into, he just wanted to be taken back home. Remedial lessons by the chain-smoking, beer-guzzling, cute elementary-sized school teacher be damned. With a full stomach, he was ready to fall back into his own bed...after a nice little visit to a frog-faced doctor. He didn't even care if Index decided to crawl into the sheets with him as she often did in her sleep. His hormonal teenage body was far too fatigued to be up to any perversions!

His old folk's smartphone in hand, Touma waited for word from the Anglican Church for his return ride home.

"Eh? W-What the hell do you mean you can't send me back to Academy City right now?! Are you kidding me?!"

What was said to the slack-jawed foreigner who now found himself stranded in America's second most populated city was this: due to the recent troubles caused by the defeat of Cinitris, or rather the Vice President, the Anglican Church, or rather Great Britan, are unable to send any transport as all air traffic over Los Angeles will be grounded as an air-travel ban is in place for the next twenty-four hours. Not even Queen Regnant's own private plane could land on American soil until the aftermath of the chaos settled.

Touma's entire frame was shaken by the news by a smug-sounding nicotine-puffing priest who had somehow managed to worm his way out of the state before the air-travel ban was set in place. Why those lousy magicians didn't think to chip in for a bus or something to take him out of the normally hot state so they could leave from another airport, he had no clue. He chalked it up to them being idiots who only knew how to conjure fires, create curses, dress in strange and in the female magician's case skimpy outfits, who were gifted in causing this poor spiky boy trouble and pain.

The hell did they expect him to do?! It wasn't like he could exchange what little yen he had in his pocket for American bills! What he had on him wasn't even enough to cover for a value meal at a fast-food chain, let alone a motel for one measly night! And what about the precious innocent Index? Wasn't she their ace in the hole who they valued more than him? Weren't they worried at all about any American magician's stealing her away?

'Does the USA even have magicians or any supernatural idiots causing them any trouble? Or are they all about superheroes and supervillains like in those comics they're so fond of?'

His mundane mulling was cut as he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He winced sharply as he was reminded of the fact he was still in terrible shape and had collected even more wounds from his fight with the vice president. Hadn't he been shot by a jellyfish-modeled machine inspired by a scary Level-5?

"Am I hearing you correctly, Kamijou-kun? Do you not have a place to stay tonight?"

Thank god that the lovely single mother knew how to speak Japanese otherwise he'd be staring dumbly at her worried expression. With a tired sigh, he shut his old phone with an audible clap and nodded.

He had no idea where the mass entity known as the Misaka Network had run off after their meal. They had left too suddenly for him to have any idea where they would all be staying during their time in America. If he had a clue or even one of their numbers, maybe he could have begged those identical middle school cool beauties if he could bunk with them for the night.

All in all, over hundred-thousand girls, shared the same identical feeling of missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The small party of Touma, Index, and Othinus stood outside the burger joint as the usually lively city of noise and excitement collectively returned to their homes for rest. It was mid-morning at the time but very few cars could be seen speeding by the streets amid the crowds of people going about their normal days in the loudest city in the world. Exhaustion and fatigue finally struck those hyperactive men and women. No one remained in the usually bustling streets to gawk at a Japanese high school boy, a cute silver-haired nun, and a talking barbie-sized stripper.

Melzabeth stood behind the spiky-haired foreigner with a worried expression on her motherly features. She had heard his call with a rather rude boy on his old person phone. Enough to have caught wind of his lack of lodgings due to the wake of the chaos brought on by the now ex-vice president of the united states.

Touma wore a grimace. His right hand found its way to the back of his neck out of habit, rubbing the dirty and aching bruises over the area sheepishly as he glanced over to meet the kind mother's gaze.

"Yeah, just my typical stroke of fortune at work." Or lack of really.

The mini-war god on his shoulder blew a strand of bewitching blonde hair from her face as she crossed her arms over her chest, "This certainly presents quite the conundrum, human. You've, what? About less than twenty dollars worth of American currency in your wallet? I believe the average rate for renting a motel for the night will run you between forty-five to a hundred dollars; not counting the gluttonous nun's voracious appetite needing to be satisfied every hour."

"This is worse than surviving the Tokyo New Year's Challenge. I-Is it possible to call my parent's to beg them for a few extra yen?! But wait, what about the surcharge for overseas calls?!"

"International calls, you fool. Wouldn't you be more concerned with having to explain to your parent's how their high school son has found himself bloody and stranded in the gun-toting nation of the world? And it all depends on the service provider, correct? Whatever it is, it is most likely far too rich for a boy who can't even afford a decent lunch at a fast food establishment."

"What the hell are we going to do?! We can't survive a day in Los Angeles! This is completely different than when I was traversing through Russia on my own. I could at least set up camp with Lesser's help and only had to worry about that idiot's advances."

"Touma, what exactly were you doing with that heathenish member of New Light while I was sleeping for days? Were you sinning behind my back?!"

"...Where exactly does the slutty imp's dragon tail originate? It moves far too well for it to be simply attached to the tailbone. From what I've seen of those New Light magicians, the prosthetic are all connected to their bodies as limbs for better control. If the tail isn't on the tailbone, wouldn't it be butt pl-"

"Stooooooooooooooopppp! Don't say another word, you sadistic ex-god! Can't you see the curious wide-eyed little girl in our presence? I don't care if she doesn't understand Japanese, that doesn't mean you should be saying such perverse and tantalizing ideas! You know I have a vivid imagination! And what do you mean sinning, Index? You're glaring at me like some jealous wife who discovered her husband went on a business trip with a flirty wide-hipped co-worker to an island resort."

Before the red-faced Index could snap her teeth at the high school boy, Melzabeth spoke up.

"If you're in need of a place to stay then I believe I have the perfect solution!"

She clapped her hands in front of her motherly chest with a bright grin. Wanting to mirror her mother's positive demeanor, the young Helcalia clapped her small hands together with a giggle.

With a cute nun gnawing at his scalp and an irritated mini-god threatening to pull his cheek off like taffy, the heroic high school boy listened to the suggestion of the curvy brown-skinned woman. With around five dollars to his name, he had no other option but to hear her out before he resorted to scrounging for materials in the back alleys of the city to build a makeshift tent in a park somewhere.

[-]

Battered and worn-out Kamijou Touma found himself stepping into the modest home of Melzabeth Grocery alongside Index and Othinus.

With nowhere to go as the Anglicans had hurried off before the travel ban was enforced, about 5,000yen translating into five dollars in American currency, and no other connections in the western nation, the spiky boy had decided to take up the genius woman's suggestion of staying the night in her home.

Admittedly, when the single mother had suggested it, he did grow red in the face. It wasn't every day you were invited to sleep over at a beautiful widow's house. Soft, hot, sweet lips touched his cheek, the recent memory making him gulp anxiously.

To be a high school boy in the prime of his adolescents was to always be thinking of such tantalizing thoughts better found in doujin.

Seeming to have guessed what he was fantasizing about with a blush on his face, Index's gnawing grew fiercer and Othinus jabbed her heel into his neck to strike a sensitive nerve.

After traversing the sand-dusted streets of LA amid the waning crowds of people revived in the wake of Citrinita's defeat, the three residents of Academy City were led into the home of the single mother.

'American homes are completely different than Japanese homes, huh?'

Stepping through the door opened by the smiling mother, Touma immediately noted how different the décor and layout of the inside was to his own small dorm. He was led in alongside Index past the entrance to the living room close by, smiling gratefully as Melzabeth allowed him to take his shoes off and place them by the door. His eyes roamed around the living space, noting its size and coming to realize it was just about the same measurements as his dorm room minus the kitchen space and bathroom.

Little Helcalia ran past him to jump onto the large navy blue couch. It had been a long day for the ten-year-old child. She had witnessed a terrifying phenomenon turning the people of the city to disintegrate into piles of sand, been hidden away from the disaster in a locker, was threatened by a scary-faced red-haired priest with a flame sword and believed her mother was a villain responsible for the tragedy who betrayed her for money. She had gone through a crisis no child should have been subjected to when it was supposed to be a time of celebration for her birth.

Upon her face hitting the soft material of her sofa, the little girl's eyes began to grow heavy, and yawned. Even if it wasn't her cushy bed, it was enough to sap her remaining stamina.

"I'm fucking tired. I want to sleep to the extreme."

The translation was still iffy and voicing curses but Touma got the gist of what the Trans-Pen wanted to convey.

Melzabeth's lips curled softly at her daughter. With a girlish giggle capable of causing this high school boy to clutch his chest, she walked over to her sleepy daughter and patted her head.

"Yes, yes, you've had a long day, my little Hel. But you know the couch is no proper place for a growing girl to sleep. You'll wake up with aches and sores like that. How about you show Index where she'll be sleeping? You two could have a sleepover tonight and share some stories before you go to bed!"

Touma quirked his brow, eyeing the high-tech translating pen with suspicion.

Why the hell did it smoothly translate Melzabeth's speech without any hiccups? He was expecting a 'fuck' thrown in there. No way in hell the little American girl was actually casually cursing this entire time.

"Guess that mean's you'll be rooming with Helcalia tonight." Touma shrugged as he stood beside Index.

Apparently, the two girls had become friends in the time he was gone after being shot by Stiyl Magnus with a Five-Over. While he had been putting together the scattered pieces to the mystery of LA's crisis and fighting with Cinitris, Index had been protecting the younger girl in his place. If it hadn't been for the kind nun's presence, he shuddered to think what the extreme magician hunter would have done in the name of his mission.

Stomach packed with delicious burgers, fries, and shakes, Index lacked any desire to argue with having to bed with such a young child as she yawned into her hand.

"All that extra food did make me drowsy."

"You mean a good half of my food?"

Too tired to chomp down on her favorite snack, Index settled for a less violent reprimand.

She poked his ribs.

Touma immediately doubled over at what amounted to a jolt of a thousand watts striking his side. Everything concerning the boy was incredibly sensitive. Even a soft prod to his skin was enough to nearly bring him to tears.

"I-I thought nuns abstained from violence?"

"Nun-in-training."

"T-that's y-your excuse for everything. Why is it I can only gather these violent little girls and not a sweet and caring onee-san?"

No sympathy could be found in his roommate's sharp gaze, especially as the doting Indian-American mother began to fuss over him. She simply huffed and began to follow the lead of the younger girl's pull on her wrist to her room.

From his shoulder(i.e. the throne of the All-father) Othinus kicked her feet up with a small hum regarding her groaning human.

"All in all, considering the many trials you faced these last three days: a mini-skirt Santa with a destructive esper ability whose violence matches a Level-5, a young handsome businessman wielding twin magic pistols capable of overwhelming the #3's infamous Railgun, stricken by an incurable toxin that ruptured your blood vessels like overblown balloons, all while crossing fists with a legendary woman dipped in the deepest abyss not even the likes of Aleister nor Mather's have seen while on the verge of death, and not even a full twenty-four hours later venturing off into the United State's second most populated city and facing off with one of Anna Sprengel's pawn's after reducing over a billion people into sand, you're no worse for wear. You're not bleeding out at the very least."

"Did...did I really go through such ridiculous bullshit in only three days?" the whimpering boy asked with horror.

"Come now, your tour of Denmark can't be compared to such small escalations."

Touma whimpered again to the ruthless assessment of his Understander. Emotional and physical pain struck him at all ends.

"Here, sit down Kamijou-san."

Thankfully the doting mother wasn't so cruel. Turns out there were kind souls who didn't desire to pile up on his suffering when given the chance.

His shoulders were held by the concerned silver-haired woman with brown skin and slowly urged to sit back on the soft sofa. He felt Othinus hop off his shoulder once his back met the comfortable cushions. For good reason. As the one who had mercilessly soaked his body in all manner of violence and malice, she understood just how battered he was.

Once his back felt the cloud-like sofa, the long list of injuries he had suffered decided to slip through all at once. A moment of weakness brought by kicking his feet back was all it took.

Fireworks popped into his vision.

"G...g-gyhaaa!"

His body cramped up. Sore and abused muscles pushed beyond their meager limits screeched. Bits of sharp glass buried into his soft flesh as thorns shivered. Shallow bullet wounds wrought by military-grade shells pulsed deeply. Wounds yet to completely heal from his battles from Christmas Eve and Christmas Day rattled his sweaty body and threatened to open at the seams.

For a moment, just a split second, he blacked out.

It was only because he was in so much pain that he woke back up to find himself leaning over with his arms clutching his quivering body and his head between his spread knees with his teeth stamped shut that he woke back up.

Why hadn't all the compiled damage struck him earlier once the fighting had ceased? When he was sitting back in a booth with over a dozen military clones with a table full of greasy organic burgers and enjoying the celebrations of battles end? He could think of several moments between now and the final blow knocking the ex-vice president of America out, that he would have been brought to his knees in agony.

With a sigh, the mini-war god answered his voiceless question with concern laced in her words.

"Have you finally let go of the tension in your tight fist? There isn't anyone else for you to save. There's no one else in sight who has deluded themselves into gaining anything through the suffering of others or even themselves. For the moment the battles have come to an end. There's no more misfortune for you to absorb, you foolish child."

Adrenaline no longer rushed through his veins because he was in harm's way. His heart wasn't racing frantically as he evaded a one-shot kill technique. He wasn't unconsciously relying on his fight-or-flight instincts to somehow keep up with an overwhelming adversary who could recolor the world in pigments of explosive and bizarre colors. He was no longer forcing himself to push through whatever injury threatening to cripple him or endanger his life for the sake of someone else.

At this very moment, he had let go of those numbing instincts for the sake of a mere smile and decided to breathe a true sigh of relief.

Only once he had let go of the balled fist he had stubbornly been holding onto in fear of something he had overlooked, did his body decide to return his ability to feel the true extent of his pain.

Sweat began to wet his face as his face twisted at the many wounds screaming at him like attention-starved dogs pawing at his legs. Was his heart spiking erratically? When had the cozy American living room begun to spin around like a teacup ride?

Rusty iron could now be smelled. Red painted his hands as he clutched at his throbbing chest in a sorry attempt to relieve the crushing pressure.

It was taking his all not to scream and alert the worry-wort nun getting ready to sleep.

"Jesus Christ! Just how wounded are you?! Are you still bleeding?!"

His trembling hands were forcefully removed. The single mother whose name he had protected from being labeled as greedy and selfish immediately began to remove his tattered brown winter coat, his school uniform, and his favorite white hoodie. He would have been blushing a shade of red that would put cherries to shame and squeaked a feminine 'kyaaa' if it wasn't his breath getting lodged in his throat.

Melzabeth froze, truly froze, at all the red hidden in plain sight, now bare for her to see in blossoming warts of blood, torn skin, glinting glass, and ugly bruises.

'What is this? Were you really walking beside us this entire time in such a terrible state?'

Strange glass could be found stabbed into his body, ranging in size from a splinter to a fingernail. Nasty bleeding bruises from what could have only been gunshots just barely failing to pierce straight through flesh littered his naked chest. Blue, green, black, and purple discoloration could be seen on his shoulder.

Those were only the fresh wounds. She could see bandages, now torn apart from the day's battles, hanging off in bloody strips. Were those stitches?!

Melzabeth bit her lip to the point of tasting blood. Her shoulders trembled as her face fell. All while she held the scarred boy who had been brushing off his own agony for who knows how long.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

A young man she held no previous connection to had found her daughter locked in some small pocket of a city of over 2.1 billion people.

A foreigner who didn't speak nor understand clear English had heard her plea for help when she lacked even a voice to cry out with.

A random person had shielded her only child from the malice of her mistakes bearing down their vile fangs upon her last remaining bit of happiness.

A high school boy had bared his fist for her sake, centered all the violence aimed at striking her heart onto himself, and even fought to convince her own daughter from seeing her as the villain to be defeated in order to save countless innocent people of their beloved city…

All while he himself was on the brink of breaking down from his own misery?

Such kindness hadn't ever appeared so toxic.

Said reckless idiot had the decency to flinch at the simmering anger in her tone. With a grimace, he looked away with his lips drawn in a strange smile.

"Don't worry. I've been through worse. So long as I bare it, so long as I swallow it, so long as I keep pushing through it…"

His voice hitched as a spike of pain decided to take his breath away.

"I'll be fine. This is the least an idiot who can't resolve anything other than with violence can do."

"Human…"

Not even the one person in this world who understood his feelings and desires as well as he did could look at him with anything but a solemn scowl. Even though she herself had been saved by said actions.

He would live. All he needed to do was continue gritting his teeth until he returned to Academy City. Heaven Canceler would fix him up without so much as a faint scar to remind him of this nightmare. The danger was over. There wasn't any more reason for him to put himself in harm's way.

No more pai-

SLAP!

He felt his head slapped to the side. A hot pressure could be felt on his already bruised face. He was speechless and left gawking alongside the barbie-sized god who had seen what had just occurred with surprise.

Touma didn't have any time to respond to the sharp slap as he found both of Melzabeth's hands holding his face. His throat tightened at what he saw in those nurturing azure orbs.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She repeated herself again. Her voice quivered with emotion fluxing between sadness, anger, regret, remorse, confusion, and frustration. The tears swimming in her blue eyes caused a solemn gleam to accent the pain she felt at the sight of the mess he had covered up with a smile.

"Why did you feel the need to not say anything?! When you've been attacked, when you're bleeding, when you're hurt! You don't keep it to yourself! That's not what a boy like you should be accustomed to!"

The Japanese boy had done it so easily. So casually. So well.

He had hidden his own agony as easily as if he were brushing aside a bump to his shoulder while walking through a busy street. He had developed a horribly disturbing habit.

She couldn't understand it. She couldn't understand such a tragic flaw in the hero who had appeared out of nowhere to rescue her normal life after rightfully deserving punishment for aiding a deadly woman like Anna Sprengal.

"You should have sought medical attention. You shouldn't have bothered with reuniting me with my daughter! You put an end to LA's disaster and revived all its citizens, so wasn't it enough for you to sit back and take care of yourself? You should have walked away and gone to the hospital, not chatted away and eaten greasy burgers with a lousy woman who was responsible for all the tragedy in the first place! You should have demanded I take you to the ER, you should have demanded me to pay for your hospital bill, and you should have demanded compensation for all the pain and suffering I inadvertently put you through! Your health, your happiness, doesn't it matter at all to you?!"

Instead of asking for help, asking for someone to stop the pain, asking for anyone to hear his cries for once, what had he done?

He had reunited Melzabeth with her daughter once he cleaned the blood from his rusty lips. He had staggered through the streets with a lost child who had been clinging to his bruised hand all day. Battered, wounded, and bloodied, he had endured it all without ever thinking twice about his own health. Even when he had defeated the main villain in this conflict, he hadn't stopped moving and went as far as to search for her among all those who had regained their selves from the magic of a terrifying magician. And he had reassured the false villain of the story she had been the heroine who had been responsible for the happy ending, all while he sat across from her with glass inside his body.

Everything he had done since touching down on American soil had been for the sake of someone else's happiness.

But when had he taken the chance to care for himself?

From the looks of the sinful naivety in his eyes, she had to wonder.

Had he ever truly thought to care for himself?

At some point, the ranting mother had found herself on the same couch as the high school boy. She couldn't recall sitting on his lap or hovering her shapely thighs between his legs, but she found she didn't care. It was a compromising position she may have blushed at even at her age. Such kind misunderstandings were absent.

The young man she stared down at was hurting. He was in pain. And it was only in this small moment that such grueling pain could be seen as he finally let go of the tension in his shaking fist.

No one stood in the room but the two.

Not even the mini-Magic God who had slipped away in the middle of Melzabeth's scolding.

She didn't know it but the once all-powerful War God had smiled thankfully beneath the rim of her large witch hat. Because she knew where the woman was speaking from. And she knew, as someone who had received the boy's infamous kindness despite her own sins against him, the talk he was being subjected to was one long overdue. One far too many people had desired to unleash upon that idiot.

"You deserve more than this."

"…"

"For saving this entire city, for saving my little Helcalia, for saving my dream, for saving me. Just look at you. After everything you've been through, don't you think you deserve to at least have your plea for help be heard?"

"…"

"It's not an evil thing to do. It's only right. Kindness like yours, heroism like yours, should always be repaid, no matter what. You have a right to ask for anything for all the blood you've had to shed for strangers you've only just met."

Here and now, say what you would like for saving our lives.

The price didn't matter. The intention didn't matter. The desire didn't matter.

But if she coul-

"Isn't it enough?"

Melzabeth was taken back by the soft murmur breaking out of the cracked lips of the quiet boy she held.

She expected her words to have cracked his dark blue eyes with remorse. She believed her ranting would have caused him to peer deep into his heart. She had thought she could change something in the far too kind boy's self-destructive nature.

But as he looked back to her own softer blue gaze, his eyes had only grown fiercer and bolder in resolve.

"Why does there have to be some carefully thought-out reward for saving anyone? Have you done what the ancient alchemist have struggled throughout history to do and discovered the correct and most well-rounded value for a human soul? No, not even a genius beauty like you could have possibly summed up what your own life is worth using science! Why would you?!"

Strength returned to the boy who had found himself unable to resist the older woman's pushing him back onto a couch. His aching right hand found her left hand and took a hold of it as he sat up.

"You don't earn points for rescuing a person from a burning building. You don't score bonus exp for saving the life of someone who was drowning in a lake you were passing by. There isn't a hidden achievement in answering the cry of someone who's suffering a horrible situation all on their own. The amount of blood I've lost? The number of broken bones I've suffered? The things I've lost? Why the hell should such things amount to anything in return?! What kind of person keeps score of such useless stats?!"

Maybe it was because...her words had connected to something.

Deep in that boy's chest, he had felt an emotion-stirring. Her genuine cries of confusion had burrowed into a place he couldn't call his own. And he had felt a guilty thought bubble in the haze of agony and exhaustion.

I fought hard.

I was hurt badly.

I nearly died.

I saved so many.

Surely, even I deserve something?

But then he had seen it.

When he had searched the busy streets of a once cold and sandy urban city with a small child clinging to his waist, and somehow found the tragic mother whose face had brightened up far greater than the sun at the sight of Helcalia without a hair misplaced…

'That smile...it had been so beautiful.'

The face of someone's world being saved couldn't be brought down into the realm of boring numbers. It could not be given a numerical value to be so easily altered by logic. Its value could only ever be described as truly priceless.

Just the memory of both Melzabeth and Helcalia embracing each other with happy tears in the street of so many others mirroring themselves at the end of a tragedy had been enough to remind him of why he had been fighting.

To ask for anything in return? To demand a prize? To selfishly expect a gift to match the value of all his suffering?

It was no different than sullying the beautiful memory of their smiles.

"If someone's in trouble, you're supposed to save them. It's not about doing it to be paid back for your efforts. But because you came upon someone who was crying as they were suffering a terrible situation. Being able to get them back on their feet, saving their life, protecting their smile, and giving them an opportunity to feel happy and safe! Shouldn't it be enough that you can smile?! So, how could I ever demand anything more than you being able to return home with Helcalia, Melzabeth-san?!"

He found a mother being able to enjoy a simple meal with her daughter and later return home to sleep with full stomachs worthy of everything he had done today.

Even though he was sitting down with numerous injuries coloring his body in sickly colors, he couldn't even muster the desire to ask Melzabeth to take him to the hospital. Because he felt he could endure the pain just a bit longer until he went back home to Japan. Being fed organic burgers, fries, and cold shakes with friends had been more than enough than he deserved.

A gentle kiss on the cheek was something he had no right to deserve but found himself locking away in his memories for safekeeping.

"Kamijou…"

He felt the mother's fingers curl around his wrist. As if she was desperately trying to urge him to demand something. If only to ease her own debt.

He didn't want anything. He had no desire for anything. Not for doing what made him legitimately happy.

But if it would make her feel happier…

"Smile. If you truly can't let go of demanding me for a prize, a gift, a reward you could offer me for everything then just smile. A wide and pleasant smile made up of all the happiness you've been keeping back out of worry of being judged. If you can do that then I'll consider it enough."

For the damage, for the blood, for the hopelessness, for the broken bones.

If you could just smile then the debt would be cleared.

Bold dark blue eyes grew heavy. His eyes shuttered tiredly. No more adrenaline could be mustered to prolong his fight to stay awake.

Touma had been fresh out of the hospital after further surgery to his mangled body when he had touched ground on US soil. He hadn't been in any shape to pick up another fight. Further harm had come his way and he had once again gone toe-to-toe with a deadly magician responsible for the disappearance of 2.1 billion people.

There was no one to fight.

There was no one to protect.

He could let go of the tension of his fist.

Away from the ever-ugly battlefield stained with splotches of red.

The normal high school boy could finally rest without having to look over his shoulders.

And in the company of such a caring and gentle woman, why wouldn't he shut his eyes and let his weary body rest?

He thought he heard Melzabeth call his name but he no longer had the strength to register even sounds before passing out.

[-]

When he woke, Touma was momentarily surprised by the lack of a white wall and a familiar bedside window commonly seen every time he was returned to his hospital room. There was a slight hint of disinfectant in the air, meaning his wounds had been cleaned while he was asleep. In the time it took for his senses to come back to him, the tired spiky boy's blurry vision was able to make out where he found himself. He sat up carefully to see navy blue walls, dresser drawers, a nightstand, a work desk, and a bookshelf.

This was someone's room. Beauty products could be found on the nightstand, he spotted a few high heel shoes thrown to a corner of the modestly sized room, stacks of important-looking documents left on the work desk next to the computer alongside folders, and-

'...Are those panties?'

To the now blushing boy's gawking eyes, those were indeed a pair of what appeared to be lacy see-through panties nonchalantly tossed aside the queen's size bed he was resting on.

W-What kind of slothful woman just leaves their undergarments out in the open?! Seriously! Weren't adults always nagging children about picking up their dirty clothes and cleaning up their rooms?

Let it be known that Kamijou Touma was a healthy high school boy who had recently had his first kiss stolen by a curvy and busty magician. So, at the sight of an older woman's panties left on the floor of the bed, he found he couldn't help but stare with a gulp. Certain thoughts began to race through his mind as he also noticed a racy bra with a cute little red bow in the middle of the bust nearby as well.

Without a doubt, this was Melzabeth's room. Meaning she must have carried his bloody body back to her room, treated his injuries, and set him down on her bed so he could recover. He could see a few photo frames with the Indian-American woman displayed alongside her daughter and even an older gentleman. She had decided to take on the role of a nurse to care for this reckless idiot and had gone as far as to not only stitch his wounds but re-stitch the old ones.

Clumps of red used-up gauze pads were found in a small trash can. Meaning she had most likely needed to clean herself up after getting her hands dirty.

Put two and two together…

"Oh? You're already up, Kamijou-san? Did the sound of the shower wake you? My apologies."

A door on the far right of the room opened. Hot steam could be seen slipping into the room. A curvy figure was momentarily obscured by the curtain of steam telltale of a hot shower scene taking place moments ago while he slept in the other room. With an impish smile, Melzabeth shut the bathroom door behind her as she walked in with a fluffy white towel wrapped around her wet naked chest.

The single mother's white hair was still wet and stuck to her face. He could see her bare shoulders and thighs with beads of water trickling down onto the wooden floor. Hot wisps of steam could be seen lingering from her nude form that only had a bath towel covering up the sexy bits from this spiky boy's wide eyes. He couldn't help but notice how the dark-skinned mother's cleavage seemed to be pushed out due to the soft towel's embrace that appeared ready to slip off with one wrong move.

How the hell did he go from fighting a bondage-suited old man who had turned out to be the vice president of the united states, to waking up to a scene from some cheesy adult film? Was he dreaming? Was this like the time he had been dreaming about a naughty blonde nurse crawling into his bed to bite his chest while her twin dressed up in a skimpy mini-skirt Santa costume sat on his bedside?

Despite his blatant staring at her wet and nearly naked self, Melzabeth didn't say a word as she made her way over. Her shapely behind sat on his right bedside, causing his heart to race furiously as she reached a slender handover.

Her soft fingers found their way to his chest, carefully examining the fresh bandages and gauze she had applied who knows how long ago. He was speechless as she examined her work after only stepping out of the shower moments ago.

"Good. It appears everything is mending just fine. I'm quite surprised. Your wounds are closing up far quicker than expected and the color is returning to your face. There weren't any deep wounds to worry about. I was able to clean you up before any kind of infection could arise. I was initially worried about broken bones or even sprains but you appear to have suffered a light sprain on your shoulder."

A damp lock of silver hair dangled near Melzabeth's eye that she quickly moved behind her ear, unknowingly further elevating her sex appeal to her patient's eyes.

"You even have a healthy blush rushing to your face. Thank god, you had me so worried."

Touma blinked only once. The hot and steamy atmosphere the single mother had brought into the room had suddenly dampened. And his wide eyes grew gentle and soft at what he saw.

Water gathered in the sweet blue eyes of the relieved adult's motherly gaze. Her soft hands wandered over to his face to caress the thick gauze plastered on his cheek while her other hand pressed itself against his bandaged chest. As if she was reaffirming that he was alive.

Right, how could he forget?

He had passed out due to his injuries striking all at once at the end of the long hard battle. As he reached the ending he had struggled to attain, his body collapsed like a machine whose power source had been drained. He had passed out right in front of the worried mother who had been so concerned about his state that she had cried and scolded him for ignoring his own injuries.

Wasn't it normal to be so worried about such an idiot? Seriously, the mature mother was too good and too kind to be stressing about such a lousy bastard.

What could he say to such kindness?

Touma opened his mouth, lips struggling to form anything back to Melzabeth for going as far as staining her dainty hands with his blood. A million words came to mind, none amounting to anything appropriate to properly thank her for-

!

Lips swiftly captured his own.

Melzabeth's sweet lips hadn't connected with his cheek this time. Without missing a beat, they had locked with his own as he struggled to say anything back.

The creak of the mattress was heard at that moment stretching into eternity as Melzabeth moved on top of him.

This...this was unlike his first kiss. This was nothing like Anna Sprengel's toxic lips.

Tender. Gentle. Caring.

It was just like when he had tasted his first candy; a grapefruit hard candy he had found in his pocket. An undeniably sweet flavor glossed over his lips.

There was no pain. Only a pleasant warmth spread from his rapidly pounding heart to his entire body. Any discomfort or aches were immediately numbed by the emotion washing over his battered being.

If it weren't for his lungs reminding him he needed to breathe, he would have allowed this random moment to continue on. When the mother's lips parted from his own gasping lips, a lingering sensation of the passionate action ghosted his mouth. He could taste her sweet essence even though her lips were no longer pressed against his own.

He was afraid he would go into cardiac arrest at any second now. Because his heart wouldn't stop pounding into his ears. His face was incredibly hot and he was afraid he would pass out again. He was breathless and left stammering incoherent words no longer resembling his native language as the beautiful older woman on his lap giggled.

A dragon was aroused.

"Oh? My, my~! Is that why I believe what I think it is standing up to tickle my ass, Kamijou-kun?"

This was a perfectly normal reaction! Don't act so coy and make such a teasing yet shy smile when you were the one to disturb the almighty one-eyed dragon's sleep!

The dark-skinned mother's face grew tender and gentle to the flustered and puzzled boy she had kissed. A warm heat seemed to waft from her almost naked body. Drops of shower water slipped from her moist skin in tantalizing slithered beads tracing her curves. Everything about the woman screamed sexily and further raised his skyrocketing blood pressure through the roof.

Why?

What the hell had transpired in the time he had passed out, having his wounds treated and dressed, and Melzabeth stepping into the shower for such a bizarre event to activate with this unlucky idiot?

"I couldn't accept it. I refused to accept it."

Once again, Melzabeth acted before he could, speaking up with misty eyes. She ignored how her bath towel began to slip off as she adjusted herself atop the speechless hero. Despite how her voice quivered with raw emotion, her wet eyes, and the way her face struggled to not crumble, she laid herself bare to that selfish hero who had saved her personal world without asking for anything in return.

"I don't care about how I'm not obligated to pay you back. I don't care if you're happy with receiving nothing in return. I don't care that I might not even be the one who deserves to say these words: you saved my daughter, so how could I ever just leave well enough alone? This isn't enough."

Her right hand traced his chest, grazing the new bandages she had applied herself. To the wounds she had spent who knows how long digging out small fragments of glass that were as big as the nail of his pinkie finger.

"The food, a light peck on the cheek, a place to stay the night, dressing your wounds? For all that you've done for so many, not just Helcalia and me, it's not enough to repay all you've endured for our happiness. Your smile matters too. Your peace matters too! Just what kind of woman do you think I am if I simply nodded my head and simply said thank you for all that you've done?!"

Melzabeth was not a child.

She wasn't a shy, meek, inexperienced girl who couldn't admit her own feelings. This had little to do with love or a maiden's sensitive heart. Her emotions weren't a jumbled mess. She knew what she was doing and why she was doing it.

Her kiss had been one of passion. She wouldn't deny she felt lust at the image of a bloodied and battered young man who had fought for her sake with such a charming smile. That far too kind and destructive heart had even caused a few butterflies to flutter in her own lonely chest.

"Melzabeth…"

She could sense it.

Even if the spiky boy from japan was confused, his emotions all over the place, and nervous, she could sense the desire in his voice.

Kamijou Touma was a healthy young man. One who freely admitted to lusting after an older woman, or, more specifically, a certain archetype of woman. He most likely thought he was still dreaming and thought his Imagine Breaker would shatter the illusion. But telling by the way he squirmed his hips with a thick anxious gulp due to Melzabeth sitting on his groin, he was quickly realizing he was not dreaming.

Something memorable.

A once in a lifetime experience.

A memory he could never forget.

A truly priceless reward that didn't involve anything materialistic or easily bought.

What Melzabeth wished to give the unsung hero of America's second most populated city, was a gift all boys his age sought. The final push for that hero to shed the last remnants of his boyhood and become the man he should have already become by now.

"I know what you're going to say."

You don't have to do this.

What about your deceased husband's memory?

I don't deserve this.

Aren't I too young for you?

A myriad of excuses came to mind, ready to slip out of the anxious boy who wasn't honest with his own desires and wants.

The damp towel shielding her lovely breasts fell away. Plump, chocolate-colored, perky mounds of flesh spilled out and cast a shadow on the now frozen-faced high school boy. Those hypnotizing pair of breasts lightly swayed as she laughed cutely, noticing how her hero's dark blue eyes zoned in on her breasts hungrily.

"But for once; stop thinking. Unless there's already someone else you've promised yourself to, you're not doing anything wrong. This isn't evil. And this isn't an action born of guilt either. Abandon all logic, all reasoning, all that boring and lame reasons you have lined up to push your own guilty desires aside: for once, just act like a normal high school boy."

Act...like a normal high school boy?

Touma felt an unknown pressure strike his chest.

What did he want?

What did he desire?

Was this unwanted?

Did he feel as if he was committing a grave crime?

In a situation like this, where a normal high school boy found a naked sexy, and dripping-wet older woman sitting atop his lap, who had already kissed him softly, what was he supposed to do?

For once, his heart was unable to provide an answer from the previous experiences left behind by his former self. Meaning the choice was his.

His alone to make; this Kamijou Touma's right to decide on his own emotions and wants.

"It's okay if you want to say no."

Ever the motherly figure, Melzabeth gave the conflicted boy a tender smile as she covered her breasts with one arm.

"It's your choice. You don't need to explain yourself. I would never want to force this onto you if you weren't willing."

The world around them had fallen completely silent. The light of the moon was cast through the slits of the curtain to the side of the room. All he could hear was the frantic beating of his own heart drowning out all sound but his thoughts.

A million thoughts came to mind. A million reasons to reject this. A million words to deny the rare opportunity he had always fantasized about in the background of his hectic life.

Kamijou Touma licked his licks of an alluring sweetness.

A right hand grew tight.

A single selfish desire pierced straight through those million thoughts centered on his misfortune and his shitty self-worth.

Dark spiky locks fell over his forehead and partially shadowed his eyes, his lightly moist lips trembled, and guilt painted his expression as he spoke lowly.

"...Is...it alright for a bastard who lied to everyone, who stole the happiness of someone else, who can only ever solve a problem with bloody fights, whose very existence is responsible for countless tragedies; is it alright for such a bastard to give into something so selfish based on his own personal desire?"

"Of course."

Melzabeth didn't miss a beat.

She hadn't ignored his words. She had listened intently to everything. She had noted the guilt, the bitterness, the grief, and even the small hint of hate.

There were countless stories tied to his words. If she decided to sit down with Kamijou Touma to listen to the tale going back to last summer, she was sure they would be there for an entire day and then some.

A single genius mother had met a violent Japanese boy a few hours ago. They lacked a proper history with one another. She couldn't honestly say she knew a single thing about him. His likes, his desires, his dreams, his trauma, his hopes, his fears, his ambitions: who was Kamijou Touma?

So what?

Los Angeles had been saved by that battered and ferocious boy's fist.

Helcalia had been protected behind the strong back of that far too kind boy.

A bloody, bruised, and sore right hand had led her through crowds of strangers to eventually reunite with her daughter after overcoming an incredibly powerful magician who had defeated 2.1 billion people.

What more did she need to know to do something as simple as this?

"Like I said: stop thinking of those boring and heavy excuses. You seem to be a dense and dumb boy, so, how about I, an intellectual woman who has spent time in the past teaching others to the point of once being labeled as a teacher, give you an important life lesson."

Touma couldn't but grow a bit irritated at the genuine and true jab at his intelligence.

When she spoke, she wore a beautiful and alluring smile that nearly sent him straight to heaven.

"Be selfish. What's right? What's wrong? Whether you deserve it or not; do you want it? Yes or No: choose what you selfishly want as a normal high school boy and nothing else. If the question is too tough, too difficult, or too confusing, then it's alright. If you'd like...I can teach you how to be selfish and only think about yourself."

A gentle hand reached for his right hand.

That cursed object was lifted up and moved to grasp a forbidden fruit all teen boy's longed to touch.

Did she even understand the significance of it being that hand she was using?

"It'll be a long lesson. We might not go through the entire lesson plan I have in mind, but I'm sure I can get you well enough to pass our exam with flying colors. And don't worry. I'll be gentle as can be."

What was the right answer?

Yes?

No?

Anxious, nervous, fearful fingers finally let go of their balled-up form.

A right fist unfurled to let the fingers cup the forbidden fruit of a gentle and caring older woman. He heard a soft moan of pleasure as his hand began to explore the large fruit captivating his eyes.

And Kamijou Touma found himself leaning up to the smiling woman on his lap.

Was it because he had been subjected to numerous incidents that left his body on the edge of death? Was it because he was exhausted from having to fight, fight, fight, and fight until he collapsed? Was this the selfish desire he had gleaned from his time in those Infinite Hells and confronting that bastard composed of Kamijou Touma's lost past?

Whatever the reason, he stopped thinking about it. Even if the action would hurt the feelings of people he wasn't considering, even if he didn't believe he was worthy of this, or that a guy made up of misfortune as he would never be so fortunate…

Lips met lips.

Hesitation? Fear? Anxiety?

A passionate fire surged from the core of the boy who always put others above his pathetic self.

Even a masochistic martyr could be selfish and act purely on desire.

For once his base desires would take the wheel, so he could have fun and enjoy himself as any other high school boy would in such a situation.

Hot and moist flesh fell upon him. He felt soft curves underneath his hands, left to roam and touch to his heart's content. His very breath was stolen in the heated kiss. Small breaks left him gasping for sweet air before hungry lips dove back in and nibbled on his lower lip.

Whatever clothes they had on were swiftly tossed aside with a throaty moan.

[-]

The following scenes are rated R-18, AO, and considered by certain electric tsundere as perverted and worthy of subjecting all those who watch such material to a bombardment of electric spears with a supernatural railgun.

Of course, as this writer is currently in no position to describe the erotic and sexy scenes currently transpiring between an exotic MILF and our spiky-haired trouble magnet, let your imagination fill in the blanks. If I wanted to write smut again, I'd have left to become a famous doujin author when I had the chance.

In other words; do not shame me! My deviance is mine and mine alone! I ain't sharing it with the rest of ya's! You get off your lazy asses and you write erotica! Make Aleister proud, damn it!

Anywho~! Moving on!

[-]

Morning came as it always did for one young Helcalia Grocery.

Little Helcalia awoke with a large yawn and stretched her arms out wide as the buzz of hundreds of car engines was heard outside the big city.

"Ow! Watch where you swing your hand! You nearly poked out my eye."

Oopsie! She almost forgot about the weird nun sleeping in her bed. It had been a while since Helcalia had a sleepover and she couldn't remember sharing a bed with another girl; not since she was five. She was far too old to be sleeping in the same bed as her mother too.

With an apology crossed with a yawn, the young British-Indian-American girl sluggishly slipped out of bed to start her day. Close behind was the older girl, Index, rubbing the sandman's dust from her eyes as she followed her to the bathroom to tidy herself up. Luckily for her, Helcalia's mother had bought her a few different toothbrushes for her to choose from, so Index would be able to brush her teeth too.

Morning meant breakfast. And the young little child's stomach was growling with the need to eat a tasty hot meal from her loving mother.

Tiredly brushing her teeth, washing her face, and too tired to change out of her pajamas, the white-haired and dark-skinned child trudged her way through the house with the wisps of a delicious and hot breakfast leading her sleepy self to her destination. She was completely focused on her objective: food. Nothing else caught her eye as she made it to the dining room, sat down, and yawned into her hand as someone handed her a nice cool glass of orange juice. In the background she heard the sound of cooking, most likely her mother since said person was humming pleasantly while in a..nightgown?

"So, they already took the Vice President into custody? Guess the military swept in as quickly as they could to bring him in once the spell vanished. I wonder what kind of story they'd have to make up to explain the strange and weird bondage he was wearing; leaving him tied in notes with rope probably didn't help his image either. How the hell is Katze-san gonna spin this anyway? …..Seriously, a biological weapon by a terrorist group affiliated with R.C. Occultists? Who would believe that?"

Helcalia paused-mid sip of her juice.

Someone sat close by and until now, she hadn't noticed their presence until they began speaking. That wasn't the strange part though.

They were speaking Japanese. Even in a big city like LA, she only knew of one person who spoke fluent Japanese without it sounding cringe.

Tired as she was, Helcalia wasn't mistaken in finding that, indeed, someone was sitting close by to her with a newspaper flapped open for them to read in their hands. Though the newspaper shielded their identity from here, she could still spy the familiar black spikes over the top edge of the gray and white papers.

She scrunched her nose in thought at what must have appeared cute to her mother.

What was that cool boy's name again? It sounded funny and was kinda hard to say.

"Kamihoe?"

A click was heard, a familiar one that must have come from the strange crappy pen he was always carrying around with him like it was a microphone/recorder or something.

"...Whoever designed this piece of junk is an asshole. Was I just called a Whore God by a ten-year-old American girl? She was clearly trying to say my name, so where the hell did the hoe part come from, you lousy Trans-Pen?!"

She heard a long sigh from behind the newspaper before it was put down to reveal a dry-eyed high school boy.

Kamijou Touma? At least, she was sure that was his name from what she had learned in the short time they had spent together. The Japanese hero who had found her stashed away in a diner, protected from the cologne and cigarette-smelling red-head priest, defended her mother's name, saved the day, and brought back her mother to her at the very end.

A random teenager who appeared like a superhero from Japan; minus the flashy tights commonly seen on her country's heroic icons.

Her and her mother's hero.

...Why was he sitting at the dining table with a cup of hot coffee, and a newspaper, covered in what looked like new bandages, with a worn-out yet relaxed expression as if he had just finished doing some much-needed exercise? For a second, her sleepy mind had forgotten that they had invited their current guests over to stay the night and was staring at the spiky teen strangely.

Touma waved at her with a small grin as he raised the dark cup of coffee to his lips.

"Good morning, Helcalia-chan!"

His attempts at speaking a simple greeting in English were sloppy but she understood him nonetheless. She tilted her head in confusion, staring at the Japanese boy sitting at the dining table with a mug of hot coffee as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Something felt weird here. She couldn't put her finger on what exactly but there was something about the feel of the dining room right now that just seemed strange to the young ten-year-old girl. Especially with how her mother was giving strange glances back at the teen with a weird smile on her lips.

Did it have to do with how Kamihoe's face seemed really bright and relaxed? As if he had just had one of the most pleasant hot baths in his entire life. Comparing the sweaty, tense, anxious, stern-faced, bruised, and bloody boy she had met yesterday to the refreshed boy reading a boring newspaper(how was he able to read when he was Japanese?) sipping icky coffee like an old man was hard to do. For someone who was supposed to be a high school student, he seemed to have gained a mature gleam in his eyes.

...Where did those pajamas come from? Last she remembered, the Japanese boy only had tattered and dirty clothes on his back when he arrived. Wait, were those her dad's pajamas?

"Breakfast is ready!"

"Breakfast!? Where?!"

"Whoa! Where the fuck did you come from, Sister?!"

"If there's food to be consumed, Index will be there. I'd say it's due to the hundred thousand grimoires in her head but not even those venomous dusty old books could explain how easily she slipped into the scene, sat down, spun her knife and fork with a flair, and licked her lips hungrily before I could even blink."

The mother and daughter pair stared at the innocent British nun in amazement as she appeared out of thin air at the mention of a meal. Appearing as fresh as a daisy, she eagerly awaited for Melzabeth to set down the large stack of pancakes on the table with a starry gaze found only in the likes of a certain Mental Out esper at the sight of a spiky-haired idiot sweating without his shirt on.

"Remember, we're guests. Do not shovel everything into your mouth in one go and do not assume the towering plate of hot homemade pancakes is only for you."

"Ehhh?! B-But this is America! Aren't they all about large, monstrous portions that contribute to their high obesity rate among all the other nations?! Aren't I suppose to indulge in their culture?!"

"Stuffing your face with piles of food is not the American way! Stop insulting our kind hosts and stop piling your plate up to your neck! At least leave some for Helcalia-chan!"

Some fighting ensued between the spiky boy and the white-haired nun with limbs flying and moves found only in professional wrestling. One would be a bit concerned at the sight of an older teen throwing down an innocent nun of the English church but the likes of Melzabeth couldn't help but get the vibe that this wasn't strange.

Eyes locked onto the nun reversing their positions and catching the older boy in a headlock(she was surprisingly strong), Melzabeth discretely pushed a plate of pancakes to the enraptured Helcalia who found herself with a show to go along with her breakfast.

"At it even when they're not home? Honestly, those two don't know a thing about manners. I'm not sure whether to scold them or lecture them; the human's eyes are open, so the nun had every opportunity to blind him and then strike his center."

She hadn't noticed until now but Melzabeth felt a sudden weight on her left shoulder. When her eyes glanced to her shoulder, she found the strange tiny woman(?) in a scantly clad bikini, cape, and witches had seated with a slender leg crossed over the other. How she had made her way there, she had no idea considering Melzabeth believed she would have felt something tugging on her clothes and climbing up her body.

Without turning away from the spectacle that was Imagine Breaker tangling on the ground with The Index of Prohibited Books, Othinus spoke to the startled dark-skinned mother.

"You have my gratitude, Melzabeth."

"?"

"Don't be coy. Were it not for your 'care', my human would have eventually collapsed into a pitiful pile of beaten meat unfit to be called living. Surely you noticed his masochistic kindness after bearing witness to the lengths he will go to for some random stranger he only just met. I may have left to give you privacy but I heard enough: even that selfish and violent human deserves a reward greater than a mere smile."

Of all those who had peered, connected, been rescued, and grown inspired by said human, it was Othinus who understood his heart better than anyone. Because of having grown to understand such a fragile thing, she had utilized such depth of knowledge to break his spirit until he was left a lifeless puppet unwilling to so much as twitch a finger.

Such an understanding had led to her downfall. Because she had found someone in all those worlds, in all those deaths, she had forfeited her original dream. An almighty god, who had never even been struck, had been defeated by a mere human.

Never would Othinus in her wildest dreams believe she would find happiness in defeat. But because a human boy had endured, and endured, and endured, and endured, and endured, and endured, amid all those fluctuating hells and given her such a childishly lost and bitter smile as he encouraged her to fulfill her wish, she had discovered someone who not only understood her but…

The tiny one-eyed Magic God bit her lower lip.

No one in all of history had cared about the ruthless head god of Norse mythology recorded and remembered for tragedies, cruelty, and selfish ambitions. No one had truly seen them as human.

But the boy who had surrendered his own dream, who had placed himself lower than a sadistic and cruel god, had only ever seen a lonely and lost girl amid his own gored corpse.

As the one to have intimately familiarized herself with such an illogical human, she had known: it was only a matter of time before his selfish yet inhumanely kind actions eventually killed him.

Maybe it would have been one traumatic wound too many.

Maybe he would have finally lost more blood than humanely possible.

Maybe it would be an incurable disease the likes of Heaven Canceler could cure.

Or perhaps it would all become too much.

Death would come for them all. None more so than the unfortunate boy who had grown so intimate with his own mortality to the point he may not have realized he was growing desensitized to the very idea.

More than likely, it would be the stress of it all that would bury that idiot in the dirt. Such a boring, common, everyday death would surely do what not even Magic Gods could accomplish with all their infinite power. Yes, it would be that lame type of death that may well finally lay that overworked, beaten, and battered high school boy to rest.

After shaving, and shaving, and shaving more of himself for the smiles of others, would his stressed out and mangled form even retain the shape of a man?

Melzabeth Grocery had only just met Kamijou Touma yet she had come to such a truth in her own special and amazing way. Perhaps...it was because she may have seen it herself in some shape or form prior to meeting that human.

Begrudgingly, Othinus lacked the form to help ease the stress and fatigue in her Understander's body. Index was far too young and naive to be of use. And she would hang herself again if she dared to even consider the horny honey-blonde bee or that bratty electric Railgun. Perhaps if the Saint of the East wasn't so unsure of her own true feelings, or that kind and gentle airheaded nun of the Neccesarious Woman's Dorms were here then it would be fine.

Yes, her Understander deserved a reward. For everything he's done for others, for all the blood he'd lost, for all the lost time he could never regain, for his own smile: Kamijou Touma had every right to be given a once-in-a-lifetime gift he could cherish for all of his life to ease the mountain of stress building in his heart.

"It may not have happened yesterday. It may not have happened this week. It may be even years before he truly feels it. But eventually, his actions and masochistic kindness will catch up with him. Not even that idiotic human would be able to bear all that baggage and stress. Especially when he refuses to show anything more than a smile. He needed to be taught a lesson before he breaks down. One that will ease the stress and trauma so that he may continue being his usual idiotic self."

Both the mature Melzabeth and the former almighty Othinus stared at the same boy weakly reaching his hand out to a happily chewing Helcalia as Index forewent wrestling for her greatest technique: Holy Bite.

They saw it.

Even though that idiot was losing a battle with a skinny nun, had bandages underneath his pajamas, and felt exhausted(Melzabeth lightly blushed as she maaaaaay have contributed to said fatigue) the expression he was making was unmistakable.

Kamijou Touma was smiling. A normal and bright smile.

"It's okay to be human; you're allowed to desire and give into desire. Accept a reward too. Because that person only desires to make you happy too!"

Melzabeth gave a rather youthful grin made up of all the gratitude and happiness welling up in her heart as a result of that dense boy- no, she supposed it would be man now, huh?

If you only let go of those doubts, those expectations, those guilts, those second thoughts, those fears, those shadows, and misfortune: maybe then, you can finally step out of that miserable and lonely box where only you are the one who misses out on having fun.

Because if you can open your heart in such a way to allow such desires every ordinary high school boy possessed then, at the very least, when that inevitable day came to pass, you can move on with a truly pure and free smile on your weathered and wrinkly face.

"Knowing that dense fool, it may take a bit for that lesson to set in. I doubt him giving into desires, even carnal ones, will change his nature. I am a bit concerned as to what may transpire once he does fully mature into such a state. There is a long list of...how do you Americans say, thirsty? Yes, that does sound acceptable; thirsty woman. Once women realize he can be goaded into fornication, the battle for his affections may just reach a critical threat. I shudder at the thought of that New Light brat catching the scent of sex on him; dear me in my past godly glory, what have I done?"

Melzabeth wasn't sure why the miniature woman on her shoulder was shivering uncontrollably with a look of genuine fear on her face(was...was she crying?) but she did blink at the important tidbits she had caught of the mumbling witch.

"Oh, so he has admirers? How cute."

"Wipe that smug and confident motherly smile off your face, you desperate middle-aged widow. Remember that I allowed you such a chance: where're your thanks to this generous god?" Othinus scowled irritably. She was beginning to have second thoughts about allowing that woman to sleep with her beloved human.

Damn that piece of righteous shit, Ollerus! If it wasn't for that godforsaken Fairy Spell, she could have claimed that humans first. It was rightfully hers! No one else but this perfect being with all the right body lines and proportions was fit for sinking their teeth into his body!

"He's my human; no else can claim him as such. Even if I'm reduced to this form as punishment for my crimes, I will never let him go from my side. Like all those who challenge god, you may try but you will fail all the same."

With the same lighthearted youthful grin on her face, Melzabeth leaned back with her hands crossed behind her waist as she weathered the challenging glare on the tiny woman's face.

Wasn't this fun? For the life of her, she couldn't recall the last time she had had another woman bicker with her over a man. How long has it been since she could get caught up in something so ridiculous and silly? And what was this nonsense about being addressed as if she were a god?

Still, though, she felt a pleasant and sweet fluttering in a place that shouldn't feel such a sinful thing.

Her gentle eyes couldn't leave that young man, now seated between balloon cheeked nun and her beloved daughter. She found it sweet to see him try and hold a conversation with Helcalia, even admonishing her for eating habits and cursing(a terrible habit Melzabeth may have found cute) like he were her parental figure. The way he simply fit into her dining room table, into her small little world, as if he'd always been there; wasn't that rather alluring?

For a small moment, those dark blue eyes caught her own. A brief flash of something was seen in Kamijou Touma's eyes as he returned the youthful grin with his own.

"I wouldn't mind keeping him as a part of my world, you know? Even if it's only a tiny connection. Just so long as I can see or hear him, or even help him in a place he can't overcome on his own. As long as I can do that, I'll be happy!"

"Is that some kind of confession, you desperate mother?"

Melzabeth winked playfully at the suspicious fairy woman.

"Take it as you will~! Leave this woman with some fun."

In this day of age, such a request was easily possible.

Meaning Kamijou Touma and Melzabeth Grocery would not lose touch once they parted ways. Whatever it may be, for whatever reason, all it would take was a few taps for them to interact again. Even if such a connection brought blushes, stammering, awkwardness, and a mini-witch, and ravenous nun to attack the womanizer, she would make sure they remained in each other's lives.

This didn't have to do with romance. If they liked, it could be nothing more than a friendly connection. As a mother, she wanted to make sure that young man stayed healthy, remembered to take care of himself, ate a nutritious diet, focused on school, and stayed out of trouble. She wanted nothing more than for him to live a happy life and grow up a fine man.

Simply because they had sex, did not mean they had to fall in love. Such emotions took time and effort on both parts.

So long as the young man known as Kamijou Touma held her number in his phone, and she his, it would be enough to satisfy her.

As she sat back down to breakfast, helping the tiny witch woman off so that she may climb back onto Touma's shoulder as if it was her rightful place in all the world, the silver-haired mother would be lying if her eyes didn't wander over to the spiky young man sitting next to her daughter.

Underneath the table, she hesitated.

Her slender leg reached over and gave the high school boy a playful tap.

After a short moment of hesitation on his part too, she felt a soft tap return.

Melzabeth couldn't help herself from smiling mischievously.

Nothing had to come from this connection between a Japanese high school boy and a widowed dark-skinned American woman, other than a friendly or maternal bond.

But if that dense young man had trouble cementing the lesson she had worked long and hard to teach him, what was wrong with a few more lessons? He certainly had a knack for studying. Not to mention the endurance.

And in this day and age, there were certainly a lot of ways for the two to continue their fun little lessons.


It's not a sin to give in to such selfish desires.

Never forget that your smile matters too.

So, accept that ever so kind and wanting reward when possible.

Only when you learn to do so, can you finally shed the clingy and old shell of your former self and be you.

Man, did that feel like it took forever to finish! Seriously, I was planning on releasing this, and another one-shot, right around Christmas time. But as always, life got in the way and I couldn't find the time to go through the usual polish to make it up to my standards. It took some time, and it's only because I've been promoted recently and given more days off a week, that I even got this done.

Melzabeth was a treat to find in GT5. I know there are many who don't like her character, especially how her Melzabeth Method randomly came to save the day in the end. and even complain about her intelligence being on par or even above a Kihara's in GT6 in salvaging Ladybird, but I just loved her part in the story. Hell, I loved reading GT5 and don't see it as being a weak volume. There were so many great things to come out of that single volume that can still be felt in the current arcs.

Hell, out of all the women in ToAru, she was one of the very few who even went as far as to give our hero a kiss on the cheek for everything he's done. Huh, Kamijou's been getting a lot of that kind of gratitude and attention in GT. There have been a lot of kisses as of late; good for him.

And as many on the Writings Discord chat can attest to, I am a fan of *Ahem!* MILFs. Leave me alone. So, it was only natural that I come up with a short(Ha! Short, right.) story based on the two. Give the old Romance tag a stretch and see what I could do. After all, let's face it: older women don't play around and will go straight for the kill!

At the center of this little romp was one thing: Be free to accept rewards and accept your own desires. Never for a second believe it's wrong or evil to be showered in gratitude, no matter how humble you are. Because it is merely a sign of that person or person wanting to make you happy and rid you of whatever stress you are carrying.

Of all those many heroes in all of the LNs or mangas, Kamijou Touma is the one to always refuse to accept any kind of reward. Or anything big. He's the type to never stick around after the chaos has settled or the final blow has landed, always turning his back to the happy ending he secured so that he may return back to his own little world. Because he feels he isn't needed or deserves anything for simply being selfish.

Sure, his base desires do slip out and he's not afraid of saying them out loud. But when they're presented genuinely, he's stumped or rejects it with a smile.

As someone who proclaims himself to be ordinary, it's only right to give into those desires and rewards every now and again. Because, who knows? Those fun experiences and gifts just might help ease the pressure and stress he's constantly accumulating in his misfortunate life.

This is a nice little pairing that's incredibly rare; am I the first to write it? Sweet. Which is telling to the kind of one-shots I'll be publishing to this story. And it won't all be about pairings here either. I got a few fun ideas and crossovers in the works to publish here too. This is only the first of several I have either cooked up and in need of cooling, or still in the pot and in need of seasoning or reductions before I serve them up.

I may even publish another one-shot before the end of the month. Oooooooooh, there's also that special something of a new ToAre x-over with a certain game with the word Impact to it that I got to finish too. Wonder when that's getting platted?

As these are ideas that help my writing juices pumping, I'd even hear out others and see if it's enough to inspire something new too.

For now, this is it. I hoped you enjoyed this incredibly rare meal. Did I do good?

Remember to Read and Review! It's common courtesy.

NeoShadows fading in and out.