Chapter Five

The sound of the bass thumped along, an exciting beat reverberating in my bones. A relaxed but steady-paced drum kept the rhythm, working in tandem with the bass guitar. A piano slammed into the melody with enthusiasm, accentuating the chords with simple taps.

To top it all off, a tambourine played in the background.

"Like summer~ Never thought it would not last~" My voice was ragged, already beginning to peter out, but I was stubborn to keep at it till the end.

My mouth was up against the microphone and a foreign voice reached my ears. I tapped my foot to the sound of the beat, eyes beginning to ache from staring at the screen.

"But what can I do~ My life's-"

A buzz struck the side of my head, flashing my vision with blue. I groaned in irritation more than anything, my place in the song instantly forgotten.

Seething, I stopped the karaoke machine, silence filling the room. Purple and green lights flashed from overhead, a shadow crawling over my face. My fists trembled, my composure slowly breaking down.

What the hell! I thought the Network said it would keep away.

A fire was lit in my chest as I took a deep breath, still recovering from the singing session. I waited for the second attempt…

Silence continued to reign, an eerie sensation seeping through me. The frigid anger began to melt as I stared at the wall, not truly looking at anything.

A frown pulled at my lips as I began to pace, microphone still in hand. My shoes clacked against the wood-paneled floor.

Why did it stop? The Network wouldn't be that forceful just for laughs.

A weight settled in my stomach as I anticipated the other shoe to drop. Seconds ticked by, each inhale shallower than the last.

I fell onto the faux leather couch, a long sigh trailing out. Confusion swirled and anxiety crept like a tiger in the tall grass. Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on blocking whatever it was that tried to reach me.

The Network was predictable. When it needed to give me directives, it would ping me. When it was doing… something else, it would hover just outside my mental barriers like an overbearing watchman.

But what happened just now? It was violent, foreign, unnerving. My mouth went dry as my eyes wandered to the door. Whatever pinged me was different and powerful. It wasn't outside of the door, I would've known if it were that close.

But it wouldn't hurt to check… right?

Slowly removing myself from the cushions, my legs shakily led me to the door. The door had a decently sized window, but a curtain was fixed closed to keep anyone from looking in. Now I couldn't help but curse the fabric.

My fingers tentatively gripped the damnable cloth, soft to the touch. I thrust it aside, ducking out of view and peeking past the frame.

The hallway was empty. Completely bereft of life.

An explosive sigh left my lips as my knees nearly collapsed under me. There was no one. No one at all.

For a moment, in that relieving silence, I considered giving the Network a check. A little knock at the entrance, to confirm they hadn't tried to reach me.

As soon as the thought came, it left. I shook my head, berating myself for such a ridiculous idea.

Straightening my collar, I rolled my shoulders and grabbed the door handle.

I better get out of here quick.

V V V

The afternoon sun inched its way past a wind turbine (note to self, not a windmill). I angled the manga in hand, getting the perfect lighting over the inked pages.

A dramatic scene played out within the off-white pages, each turn revealing an escalation in conflict. Hashmarks and gray shading pushed the boundaries of depth, expanding the images into the realm of three dimensions.

A flip of the page. A lingering anticipation. Imagination given a medium.

I frowned, nearing the end of the chapter. A single impression was left on me.

This kind of sucks.

Make no mistake, it was a well-drawn manga. The action was snappy and visually engaging. Character designs popped and stayed in the mind. The art was a step above most of the comics I'd come across.

It was the characters that ruined it for me. The protagonist was your average oblivious hero, doing 'what is right' for the sake of doing what's right. The supporting cast were full of two-dimensional, one-note, cardboard cutouts. The fact that the main heroine could be summarized as a 'tsundere' was depressing.

There was no growth either. Every character remained as they were, from the start of the arc till the end. What was the fun in that?

I guess it's not absolutely needed. One Punch Man is an excellent example of this. But even then, while Saitama was stagnant, the world was filled with vibrant, shifting characters.

At this point, I was tempted to check out the shoujo manga.

Ugh… And I'm pretty sure none of my favorite shows and manga even exist yet. 2004, really?

Turning to the last page, I was left completely disappointed. It was awful. The first time I got to read a manga in ages, and it was this drivel.

At the same time, I was grateful to a degree. I got to read something for the sake of reading! It was so much more mentally stimulating than sitting around my apartment, trying and failing to fall asleep.

A bittersweet smile pressed into my cheeks as I traced the spine of the book. Even in the worst of it, there was at least one thing to be thankful for.

Snapping the book closed, I returned it to the shelf.

"Hey!" A grating voice called out. "Don't you know it's wrong to consume a product without paying for it?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I found myself hounded by… a nun?

It was unlike anything I'd seen before. A stark white habit with a gold trim; a head garment with an engraved golden plate; and most strangely of all, clothes pins affixed to her shoulders and above her chest.

I didn't realize cosplayers were a thing in Academy City.

"Sorry, what was that?" Turning around, I gave the girl my full attention. She was a bit of an oddity, but it wasn't completely out of place for Academy City.

The nun cosplayer put her hands on her hips, expression turning into an indignant pout. "It's only proper to show your gratitude for this establishment as it has graciously allowed you to read that book from front to back."

Now that I was looking more closely, this girl wasn't even Japanese. I hadn't noticed initially because her pronunciation was quite impressive. She had fair skin, green eyes, and silver hair. Although, the hair was probably just a really good wig.

"Are you even listening?!"

I raised my hands in faux-defeat. "Of course. And while I'd love to help this shop out, I don't have the money for it."

Growing more upset, the cosplayer was about to go on another tirade before I beat her to the punch.

"Look, I get it. If you eat all the samples at a stand, then it's only fair you buy the product. But if you're eating because you don't have any cash to spare, then who's going to stop you from trying something that's free?"

The silver haired nun went silent, mulling over my words. Or so I thought, but that illusion was shattered when a large growl emanated from the girl's stomach.

Any and all dignity she once had evaporated as though it were never there. She glanced at me, head tilted down. "I'm hungry."

"Aren't we all?" I smirked wryly, shrugging my shoulders. "Which is why I can't buy this book. How else am I supposed to afford dinner?"

"But-"

The doors to the convenience store slammed open and a boy tripped into the shop. He heaved deeply, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "Index, I told you not to run off like that!"

"Touma!" Index scampered over to the spiky-haired boy, robe swaying side to side. Skidding to a stop, she leaned forward and thrust her arm behind her, a single finger pointed my way. "This poor lost lamb has to choose between her well-being and offering the gratitude this establishment deserves! Can't you help her?"

Lost lamb? She's laying it on a bit thick with the nun shtick…

Wait, her name's Index? Like, from a book?

I dismissed the assumption immediately. Why the boy was humoring the cosplayer to that degree was beyond me, but to each their own as the saying goes.

Touma grimaced, expression mimicking a sour candy taste tester. His gaze was searching as he turned his attention to me. "She hasn't been bugging you, has she?"

"Not at all." I watched as relief passed over the student's face, even as the fake nun started digging holes into his side with her gaze alone. "And while I appreciate your friend's offer, I really don't need to buy the manga. Maybe once I'm in a more financially stable situation, I'll return to get it. That sound good?"

My last question was aimed at the girl. She blinked, giving herself a moment to think. That moment passed in no time at all; Index nodded her head. "Yes, that is fair."

"Well, nice meeting you two. I ought to skedaddle and grab something to eat, as I mentioned." Giving the duo one last friendly grin, I started to head towards the door-

My head jerked to the side, sight going blurry.

Thoughts muddled, I was only slightly aware of the heavy presence that seemed to be… closer? There was something there. Massive. Immense. Impossible-

Fingers brushed against my temple, breaking me from my stupor. The boy stared at me with dark blue eyes, concern swirling in his irises. "Are you okay? You started getting all zappy."

"Zappy…?" The word felt strange on my tongue. To give context, while my mind was translating it to the onomatopoeia, 'zap', the boy was actually saying 'biri biri'.

Now's not the time, Testament!

Touma nodded, slowly pulling his hand away as though I'd suddenly catch fire. "Yeah, like, electricity sparked around your head."

"Weird, that's never-" Hold on, this is exactly like earlier today!

Without warning, I ducked low, hiding myself from any open windows. The dry hum of the convenience store stopped any hope of hearing anything outside, leaving me with only one option.

My eyes reached Touma, his countenance filled with bafflement. "I need you to tell me, is there anybody outside?"

Much to my surprise, he did exactly as I asked, scanning the outdoors with cautious vigor. As he was doing that, the cosplayer shuffled next to me.

With a degree of empathy I would've never expected from a stranger, Index gently took my hand in both of hers, squeezing lightly.

"You don't have anything to fear. You're safe." Her words were quiet and considerate, a complete 180 from the bratty way she'd been acting earlier. There was a deep conviction in her voice; I knew she meant every word.

Despite that, I felt no real comfort. But my hands stopped trembling and that was enough for me.

The boy knelt in front of me, face set in serious concern. "I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. No one seemed to be looking for you either… Are you in danger? Is someone after you?"

A rueful smile fought to make itself known as I shook my head. "Nothing like that. If you didn't see anything, then there isn't a problem. I really should be leaving now."

Standing to my full height, I extracted my hand from the girl's. Before I could walk away, the boy grabbed my shoulder.

The guise of calm almost slipped from my grasp, but I held firm. My jaw clenched as I considered prying his hand off of me. "You should let go. I know you mean well, but this isn't your business."

"I have to disagree with that." Touma's grip tightened, but not painfully so. It was disquieting, how just the touch from another human being could be so distressing yet so relieving. "Whatever's going on, you don't have to face it alone."

I scowled, taking a short step back, still held in place by the boy. "Who says I'm 'facing' anything? Regardless, it's my business and my business alone."

Getting this boy involved was unacceptable. It was one thing trying to fend off whatever's been pinging me, but the moment he got too deep…

Letting another innocent die on my watch, watching as life spilled from her-

Blood slowly drained from my face, memory flashing unburdened. My stomach churned and bile licked the back of my throat. Each breath began to shorten, blood pumping. Blood flowing.

"You're… you're terrified!" The spiky haired child exclaimed. "Please, let me help you. I can't in good conscience let this slide!"

"K-keep back," I rasped, weakly pulling at his fingers. My legs began to fail me, even as I begged them to move. "I can't- I can't let you die in vain. Not for someone like-"

I slapped my hand over my mouth, my body drenched in horror. It was too much. I couldn't bear to hope. To believe. A chance meeting with a boy with a hero complex. A veritable protagonist in his own life.

So I didn't. He was just a kid. One that was stopping me from making the right choice. The obvious one.

I couldn't retreat.

I couldn't hide.

My fingers curled into fists.

"Touma!" The silver-haired nun laid her hand over the boy's left, the same one that kept my shoulder still. "Look at her—can't you see what you're doing?"

The student blinked, scrutinizing me. His gaze flickered between my face and shoulders.

He abruptly let go, staggering back in dismay. His brows scrunched together as an array of emotions flashed by. "But Index-!"

"No buts." Standing between us, Index gave the boy a disapproving glare. "I know you want to help her, but you have to consider that perhaps she can't accept your help. Rather, she'd only be burdened by it."

Touma seemed unconvinced, a whole heap of words held on the tip of his tongue. He mouthed several vowels, cutting himself off with each attempt. There was nothing he could say—nothing he could do. There was no damsel for him to save. No princess in the castle.

I would not be reduced to such a humiliating concept.

Index brought her attention to me; sorrow poured out like a rushing stream. "I'm sorry, he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you don't want our help, then that's your choice. We will not take it from you."

The muscles in my arms twitched as my head throbbed. It felt like I was suffocating, my own ribs compressing around my lungs.

However, I was free, so I did the only thing I was good for.

I ran away.

V V V

I stared at the meal in front of me, fork and knife in hand. It was a fairly pricey steak dinner: a T-bone, asparagus, and potatoes. Cutting the meat with my left hand, my right hand brought the food to my mouth. I chewed and swallowed.

Usually, I'd complain about how nothing could beat home cooked steak. My dad had taught me a great deal in how to properly prepare and grill one. It wasn't all that much effort and it helped that he knew how to pick the best cut at the store.

But no, not even the world's greatest chef could make my disposition any better. I wouldn't harp on this meal for something outside of its control.

There was texture and tenderness to the meat. Juices spilled with every bite. Seasonings cut deep into the steak, thoughtfully chosen for an optimal blend.

And it was completely bland. Almost as though I were eating wet cardboard. Unfortunately, even wet cardboard had some flavor to it.

So much for eating out. I should've just grabbed something to go.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was clean and classy. Vibrant yellow lights colored the space with feelings of warmth and invitation.

Sighing, I pressed my cheek into the palm of my hand, a soft headache pulsing in the back of my mind.

What's even the point? It's not like trying to recreate past memories is going to bring them back. Arcades, music, food, drawing, singing, exploring… Doing all that is meaningless if you can't share it.

I knew I was being melodramatic. My mood was down in the dumps and my thoughts reflected that. But I'd been stuck in this world for far too long. There was no dream to wake from. I was trapped. Marooned in Wonderland.

No matter what I do, I'll never see my family again, will I?

It was a bitter pill to swallow. Time and time again, I came back to this idea. The hope that I could return home. And each time, reality kicked me down. Everything was too real. Too vivid. What was around me couldn't be false.

Unless my own thoughts were betraying me. I wouldn't consider that. If I did…

I sighed again, biting into the potatoes.

At this point, I could only forge onward. Pick up some new hobbies. Maybe I'd even reach the same level of skills I had before. Then I could pretend everything was alright. If I could do that, it'd make the remaining year or two more bearable.

After all, how was this any different from the average Joe, dealing with a mindless 9/5 for the rest of his life? Or until retirement. Hah, retirement.

Whoop-de-doo. I get to enjoy-

I felt a weight on my shoulders. Flinching, I tried to slap away the sensation, but my hands traveled through thin air.

It was like the world was being stretched back, the walls growing distant. My vision grew hazy and I shook my head to clear it. The fork and knife escaped my fingers, palms slick with sweat.

No-no-no-no!

Spit caught in my throat as I struggled to stand. My esophagus burned as I desperately grasped for my displaced weapon. Before I could regain the knife, electricity jumped from the metal and stung my fingers.

My ears were filled with the sound of a thrashing river. My focus heightened as I spun my head on a swivel. Eyes were behind me, a predator honing in on its prey. It was an ambush hunter, invisible to my senses.

My thoughts were in disarray, but my body persevered. I reached for the knife again, using my other hand to keep myself steady. This time, when I grabbed the knife, my fingers clenched tightly. I wouldn't be letting go of it anytime soon.

I was ready. Whatever it was, it wouldn't get me without a fight. I would live, or die trying.

From a distance away, the front door to the restaurant swung open.

Brown hair, brown eyes. She seemed average in every way aside from height. Her gaze swept across the room. Searching… for me.

The girl was familiar. She was confident in every step. Her hands were balled into fists. Her expression was unreadable. Muted in a sense. But I could see the weary lines behind the façade.

It was like… not looking in a mirror. This girl was so sure of herself. Like the world would fold before her will. Her shoes clacked against the hardwood floor as she approached.

The knife in my grip was long forgotten. I was rooted in place; defeat was a forgone conclusion.

So this is it.

The original stopped at the side of the table, unblinking. Her hand slammed onto the table, rattling the plates. Sparks rippled and ran, hopping from the original's skin to any metallic utensil.

This was the third-ranked esper, the one who defined "electromaster". What was I thinking, humoring the idea of fighting her?

The gulf between us was like the distance between the Earth and the Sun. We were separated by tens of millions of miles, yet her presence was as overwhelming as the heat of a summer day. I could never reach her, but she could easily crush me.

There wasn't a thing I could do to harm her. All I could do was not give her the satisfaction of showing any fear. I wouldn't bow nor buckle. I would die standing.

The Railgun's features constricted. Like a spring with too much potential, moments away from snapping. "You and I," she said in a measured tone, "need to talk."

…

Huh?

O O O

A/N: Originally planned to have the Mikoto confrontation this chapter, but Touma and Index's scene ended up a bit longer that I anticipated. So, here's a little cliff hanger.