Chapter Three
Steam wafted from the large black bowl. The wooden chopsticks trembled between my fingers as I took in the ramen. I watched as the toppings softly floated atop the pork broth.
There were two pieces of fatty chashu. Just looking at them, I was sure they were undeniably delectable, waiting for the moment to melt into my mouth.
A flavored soft-boiled egg was carefully positioned across from the chashu in an aesthetic showing of balance. The golden yolk was thick and viscous, barely held by the white of the egg from leaking into the broth.
A mound of bean sprouts was slightly off-center in the bowl, adding another layer of dimension to the dish. While not my favorite part of ramen, they added a nice contrast to the other ingredients.
Bamboo shoots were mostly hidden by the other toppings, but I knew they were there. Each shoot was initially tough before teeth cut through the juicy fibers.
The noodles were average in thickness and of a firm nature. Long in length and excellently absorbent, they were nothing like the dollar-store instant ramen that every college student lived off of.
Well, not every college student. I never had the displeasure of dealing with cheap ramen. I was a connoisseur. Only the best store-bought ramen made it into my abode. Especially the refrigerated kind.
Last, but certainly not least, was the mouth-watering, golden brown, delightfully delicious pork broth. Milky white suds congregated in the space between the toppings, adding that last bit of garnish to a perfect picture.
You're mine!
My wooden implements thrust forward, eager to tackle the momentous undertaking. Soon, I would be satisfied. Soon, my insatiable hunger would be quelled. At last, all would be made-
The entrance bell jingled, and a distant voice from the kitchen shouted "Welcome!" I curled in on myself, face inches away from the dish. It was only natural to take in as much of the smell to enhance the overall eating experience.
My hands remained in place, light pockets a constant reminder of my mistake. My eyes swept the counter in front of me. Silver pots and pans from the kitchen. Extra packs of chopsticks. Empty ramen bowls stacked in fives.
There was nothing nearly reflective enough for my needs. Frowning, I knew I'd have to chance it and hope it wasn't anyone important.
Turning my head a fraction, I utilized my peripheral to its fullest. Two students, both in uniform. Dark hair, slightly taller stature, likely high school. And…
Without needing to focus, I was easily able to make out the forest green Judgment armband.
Uhg. If it isn't Academy City's child police force.
Honestly, the whole child soldier thing was the least of my concerns, considering my own existence. But these kids were always more likely to bug me than any Anti-Skill officer.
Apparently, an active experiment that was out of your clearance level wasn't enough justification for Judgment, and my only access to the official (read: fabricated) authorizations was through the Network.
Crushing any desire to savor my meal, I tried to consume it quickly. Starting with the toppings. The two Judgment officers were silent, but they hadn't mastered the art of the sneak like I. Their intentions were as obvious as their noisy footsteps.
The noodles came next. It was a bit messy, but it was no hassle to slurp them down. The officers were right behind me. One was reaching out her hand to tap my shoulder.
I jerked in my seat, thrusting the bowl to my lips. All that was left was the broth. And there would be no ingredient left behind. I was getting my ¥1,650 worth of lunch!
Slamming the empty bowl onto the counter, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Spinning in my seat, I faced the two officers. "Can I help you?"
"Miss." A tall boy rubbed the back of his head as he addressed me. He hesitated for a moment, not fully recovering from my actions. "...You do know it's improper to cut classes. Especially as a representative of Tokiwadai Middle School."
My eyes narrowed, keeping my eyes on the boy. "My leave from campus is sanctioned."
The boy's partner was to my right, blocking my path to the door. And as much as I'd like to attempt escaping right away, I had no idea if either student had an effective esper ability.
"That right?" The second Judgment officer crossed her arms, unable to hide her disapproving gaze. "By whose authority is this delinquency 'sanctioned'?"
Taking a deep breath, I buried my hands into my palms, shutting my eyes tight.
Don't fall for provocation, it'll only make things worse. In fact, why did I even try to give an excuse? If they even bothered to believe me, the experiment would have on record that I was caught eating at a ramen shop.
Running my hands down my face, I slowly settled them on my lap, easing the tenseness out of my fingers. "Oh well, it looks like you've got me. Whoops?"
The officers shared a look, the boy wearing a strained smile. "That's… good. It's good to be truthful about the matter. Why don't you come with us?"
"Maybe the school will be more lenient if you can make it to the rest of your classes. I'm sure it'll be an improvement compared to your usual record." The girl brushed her light brown bangs from her eyes, sarcasm dripping with every word.
"Sure." Hopping off the stool, I was reminded of my body's very short stature. Of course, compared to the average Japanese woman, it was slightly taller. But for whatever reason, Academy City had a lot of really tall people.
The Judgment officers took to my sides, keeping less than a foot of distance between us. By this point, the patrons around the shop had already lost interest with no flashy esper fight likely to occur.
The scruffy-looking guy in the back seemed extra disappointed by that fact.
But he wasn't important. What was important was the back door next to him. It was difficult to properly make out, but behind a tacky promotional poster was the emergency exit.
There were several tables and chairs in the way, each being fairly large. There was no obvious clear path to follow. Not without shoving the furniture out of the way, along with the people sitting there.
I stopped in place, wooden floorboards creaking beneath my weight. The two officers stopped as well. The boy's hand was reaching for what looked to be his phone, while the girl clenched her fists, stance widening.
Not strong ability users then. Level 3s and above are always quick to resolve things with their powers.
Hiding a vindictive grin, I glanced at the boy. "Sorry, I forgot to pay for my meal. Could I get the bill? It's the least I can do for Tokiwadai's reputation."
"Huh? Ah, sure. Go ahead." Calmly ignoring the death glare from his partner, the boy gave a relaxed nod.
Backing away from the two, I took five steps toward the counter. Unfortunately for them, they couldn't have known I'd already paid ahead of time.
Without warning, I bolted to the right on a collision course with a table of two. Both the child officers yelped in surprise, but it was already too late.
I crouched low, flowing beneath the tables, bumping past both people and chair legs. The girl yelled at me to stop while the boy apologized to a couple as he scooted past them.
At this point, I allowed a smirk as I finally reached the back door. The scruffy-looking man watched with wide eyes as I slipped past him and ripped the exit open.
To my surprise, no hidden third officer was waiting for me. The two were either dumb or too inexperienced to have another member block the remaining exit.
Slamming the door behind me, I rushed toward the nearest alleyway, shoes clacking against concrete. The familiar hum of ACs, buzz of fans, and the faint echo of cars overtook my senses as I pushed forward.
There was a slight burn of exhaustion in my side, adrenaline flowing beneath my skin. Each breath was through both my mouth and nose, then exhaled just through the mouth.
Breathe through the diaphragm, not the chest. I reminded myself as I grabbed the corner of a wall, slingshotting myself down another path.
A cool breeze tickled my face and I immediately picked up my pace. Gray walls and steel pipes blurred passed my vision, sunlight peaking through the tops of the buildings.
Then I was out of the alley, nearing the border of District 15. My pace slowed to a steady walk as I neared a crowd of pedestrians.
My gait was purposeful, each step letting everyone around me know that I was meant to be there. My gaze remained forward, my eyes on a faux-prize.
Rubbing my hands together, I worked on getting warmth back to the cold extremities.
Sighing, a silent chuckle buried itself in my stomach; an incredulous smile painted my expression.
That was too close.
I forced my cheeks to relax, wiping away the external glee.
V V V
The warm rays of the sun cut through the curtains, making the apartment a tad friendlier than normal. With all the lamps turned on, I was given a clear view of the entire space.
It was a small place, far smaller than the last apartment I lived in. But it made sense, seeing as it was just three rooms. Four if you counted the closet.
There was the entrance, followed by the kitchen to the right and the bathroom door to the left. The living space was dead ahead, containing my cot, dresser, and a short dining table.
Usually, the dining table was bereft of any objects. Not that I had much to even leave sitting around to pile up. Not until today.
On the table was a rugged tablecloth. It was colored with orange, red, and brown leaves. Would've been perfect for the fall season.
And on top of that was a junky acoustic guitar. It was the cheapest one I could find that didn't look like it was moments away from crumbling under its weight.
Why the acoustic guitar, you may be wondering? Well, I needed something to do when I decided to stay inside.
The wood of the body was scratched and worn, traces of water damage visible along the bridge. There was the faint outline of a pickguard, but it was completely absent from the guitar.
However, the neck looked to be in decent shape, ignoring the weathered fretboard. Forgivable, seeing as it was a used instrument.
I ran a finger across the rusted steel strings. It let out a horrifically microtonal cry, dissonant to the extreme.
"Let's get this over with," I muttered to myself, retrieving a set of brand-new strings.
It took no time at all to unwind the old strings, courtesy of a string winder. Following that, I cut each string with a plier at around the 12th fret.
Each string snapped with a 'plink', only releasing the slightest bit of tension.
Been a while since I had to restring an instrument. Who knows what mistakes I would've made by this point if it weren't for that one employee? His name was… something or other.
Cracking my knuckles, I rolled up the old strings and got ready to put in the new ones. It had been far too long since the last time I'd touched an instrument. And while I would've loved to splurge on something higher quality, I didn't have that much money.
There was a most satisfying sensation as my fingernails ran down the new strings, reverberating through the old guitar. Once I got it tuned, then I would have free reign to finally make some real music.
I smiled, awkwardly holding the neck of the guitar, muscle memory absent from these small, calloused hands.
There was a knock at the door.
…
I hit my sternum, reminding myself to breathe. Rising to my feet, legs unsteady, I gently stalked over to the kitchen. My heart was beating, head filled with the rushing of water.
Bzzzt. There was a static in the mind. A tentative approach, as though it were waiting at the wall, asking if it could breach.
Biting my tongue, I imagined a great steel door. One that was several feet deep. In fact, it would look just like the one from Tron. The original, not the sequel.
Fantastic movie, by the-
Focus!
My chest shuddered as I passed the front door and entered the kitchen. A drawer opened and a dull blade found itself in my possession. It was no Toy Soldier assault rifle, but it would do.
Hands clenching the wooden handle a bit too tightly, I finally approached the door. I glanced at the lock. Or lack thereof.
It wasn't that the door didn't have a lock, but in the face of a suitable hacker, the electronic lock would do no one any good.
Note to self, buy a bolt lock.
Pressing my shoulder against the door, I stood on my toes and looked through the peephole. On the other side was a girl. A very familiar girl.
Had I not been holding the knife, my nails would have dug into the skin of my palm. My left hand, busy as it was, didn't have that opportunity. Reaching out, I pressed a button next to the door.
"What do you want?" I released the intercom, allowing the girl to respond.
A moment passed, and the buzz around my mind finally receded. The clone's dull brown eyes glanced toward the peephole, almost as though she were staring straight at me. "'The Network has noticed increasingly erratic behavior,' says MISAKA, beginning her argument with very important information."
Holding back a bodily shiver, I couldn't help but be unnerved by the clone's manner of speaking. The monotone speech sounded so emotionless. Robotic. As though humanity had never been gifted to the artificial girl.
And then there was the verbal tic. I wished I never asked about it the last time I interacted with one of them. The Network was a constant in these clones' lives. Enough so that they go out of their way to specify their internal thoughts for the sake of the hivemind.
I don't get it. Why do they externalize thoughts when they clearly have some level of telepathy?
Holding back a groan, I glared at the clone, despite knowing it wouldn't react. Regardless if it could see me. "And…?"
"'It is detrimental for you to continue as you have been,' states MISAKA as she shares the evaluation of the Network." Its countenance remained completely unchanged, even as a chilly gust swept through her hair.
I sneered, vitriol seeping into my response. "What, detrimental to the experiment? Are you going to tell the scientists, let them know of their little aberration?"
"'No,' MISAKA denies truthfully. 'The Network only-'"
"The Network this, the Network that. All I ever hear around you clones is about your beloved Network! So why don't you get this into your thick skulls? I'm not going to join your bootleg collective unconsciousness! Never, ever again!"
Sweat ran down my brow. My throat began to ache. The clone remained unchanged, as though she didn't register my words. I was about to open my mouth again, against my better judgment, when the clone responded.
"'Very well, the Network acknowledges your desire to remain separate and will keep its distance from now on,' MISAKA regretfully informs her sister." Then she turned her back to me, finally taking those cold eyes away. "'But MISAKA hopes you will change your mind,' says MISAKA 10033, earnestly wishing for her sister's safety and well-being."
All was silent. Even the faucet stopped dripping. All I could hear was the blood running through my head. The shallow inhale. A stuttered exhale.
I set the kitchen knife on a small table next to the door, not trusting myself to hold it any longer. My sight returned to the untuned guitar, patiently waiting for my return.
Here's to hoping I still have a decent relative pitch. Maybe I'll buy a tuner. Not tomorrow though.
Yeah, I think I'll stay home tomorrow.
V V V
My mouth was wide, taking in gulps of air. It was as though my lungs were on fire, begging to be spared. My legs were screaming with each step, but I had to keep moving. I couldn't stop for even a second.
I was surrounded. A crowd of students watched on, blatant shock on every face. They couldn't turn their gazes away, mounting their expectations on my shoulders. It was heavy. Why was it so heavy?
Arrows flew by, flashing brightly as they left the screen. Colored squares lit beneath my feet on impact, in sync with a heavy drum beat.
Stomping one last time, the game concluded.
"Perfection!" The digital announcer shouted, displaying a grading of AAA across the screen. The mass of students behind me erupted into a thunderous applause.
I fell, the support bar keeping me from hitting the ground. My forehead was caked in sweat as I hung my head back, damp hair brushing against my shoulders.
Exhaustion settled deep into my bones. Every movement was an exercise of both mind and body. I would undoubtedly be feeling this the next day.
But I had done it. Satisfaction far outweighed any sense of fatigue. Though my legs were weak, it felt as though I could run a marathon.
In fifth place read the user 'ICHIGO', with a score of 990,599. And while that was an amazing score, it wasn't the reason I spent nearly 5 hours on the game.
No, that belonged to the score just below it. Sitting at a count of 990,525 was a player by the name 'MISAKA'.
Hah. Try beating that, original.
Wiping the sweat away with my forearm, I struggled to exit the stage, legs feeling like jelly. By this point, the students had dispersed, leaving me to my lonesome. It was better that way, I didn't want to deal with kids, but a little help would've been appreciated-
There was a sudden shift in weight as I found myself supported under the shoulder. A girl with black hair and an unassuming school uniform smiled at me. I muttered a thanks as we reached a nearby bench.
As I unceremoniously dropped to the cushioned seat, the girl leaned forward, hands clenched into fists. "Wow, I can't believe you beat your high score, Misaka-san! I thought you said you'd never play DDR again."
Liquid nitrogen made its way through my spine as my gaze trailed up, meeting the girl's blue eyes.
"Misaka-san?" The girl tilted her head in confusion as I paled by a few shades.
She…
She knew the original.
O O O
A/N:
WwEpsilonwW: Thanks for letting me know. I'll edit the description to clarify.
Guest: Thanks for the review! And yeah, I have the first arc for this story already planned, so I certainly look forward to putting it into words.