Chapter Ten
"'MISAKA 10032, your scheduled participation in the Level Six Shift is imminent,' MISAKA informs her sister."
The world seemed to dim, falling to the wayside. Air wouldn't fill my lungs, as though my very breath was stolen. Words nor thoughts would form, coherency lost to the wind.
Time was up. Somehow, without my knowing, every single clone between me and Accelerator had vanished without a trace.
The clone watched me impassionately, opening her mouth once more. "'However,' MISAKA continues, 'MISAKA 10032 has the unique opportunity to abstain from the experiment and be wiped from the logs.'"
Every half-formed thought screeched to a halt as I stared at the clone. "...What?"
Without blinking, the clone repeated itself. "'MISAKA 10032 may abstain from the experiment,' MISAKA 10033 reiterates for her sister."
With a sudden burst of energy, I stomped over to the clone. I reached out, ready to grab her by the collar.
But I stopped at the last second.
My fingers trembled, the desire to throttle the clone nearly overwhelming me.
My face warped into a glower as I thrust my arms to my sides. I exhaled with a shutter. "Why… Why me? Why now?!"
Despite how muffled my exclamation was, the words seemed to remain in the air, suspended by an invisible force. The false girl tilted her head, mimicking the barest of consideration.
"'MISAKA 10032 is not connected to the Network. Your memories are not backed in its database. Furthermore, you have exhibited traits not dissimilar to Onee-sama, designating MISAKA 10032 as a Special Existence,' states MISAKA." The puppet took a short breath. "This morning, it was put to a vote. Nine thousand nine hundred and seventy-nine to zero. By a unanimous decision, MISAKA 10032 is exempt from the experiment, should you choose."
"Oh…" It was like a punch to the gut. My shoulders slacked as I hung my head. "Is that all it took? Just act a little out of the ordinary, and suddenly everything's all fine and dandy?"
The colors of the pathway beneath my feet were muted, my shadow messily separating the patterns. Brown bangs obscured my vision and swayed ever so slightly.
"Come on, be honest with me." Desperation leaked into my voice as I grit my teeth in frustration. "Did the scientists put you up to this? Because if so, that's needlessly cruel. I don't-"
I sniffed, wiping my forearm against my nose.
"It's too much. I… I can't lose everything all over again." I slowly crumpled to the ground, arms wrapping around my knees. I hid my face from the world. This unforgiving, heartless world.
The clone's gaze settled on me, I could feel it look down on me. Its cold eyes seared into my paling skin.
Shuddering, I tried to glare at the clone, but I knew it was futile. That halfhearted facsimile of a girl barely reacted, only making an effort to maintain eye contact.
"'You are mistaken,' MISAKA begins to correct her inaccurate sister. 'The Network has been given the capacity to handle internal problems before contacting higher authorities. MISAKA 10032's circumstances fall within manageable parameters—experiment officials have not been notified.'"
The trilling of bugs filled the silence as I gaped at the clone.
The scientists don't know about me?
But… What if this was some sort of misdirection? The scientists would send the clone to get me to drop my guard. And then… Then…?
It occurred to me that such a roundabout plan made no sense. Sure, the scientists were immoral, unethical, and evil. But that didn't make them weekly cartoon villains.
If that were the case?
A humorless chuckle slipped past my guard and I shook my head in disbelief. The experiment didn't know about me. I did it. I managed to fool the scientists until the very end.
Even so, I could feel my eyes begin to blur. Shutting them closed, I took a breath for four seconds.
I held it for seven seconds.
I let it go for eight.
The roiling emotions in my chest began to settle as I cleared my vision of tears. With it came a rumbling curiosity I hadn't felt in ages.
If this isn't a ploy to capture me, then what is it? Think for a minute, the Network has always known about me. And if that clone is telling the truth, then I was always considered an 'internal issue.'
Getting back to my feet, I pressed my knuckles to my lips.
Abruptly, I recalled the designation the clone used.
Special Existence.
Narrowing my eyes, I returned my full attention to the clone. "Let's say I believe you. That, because I'm so different from the other clones, I'm not fit for the experiment. Why even give me the choice to leave?"
How does my choice benefit the Network? The experiment?
"'Principle five of research ethics: the subject must have the ability to withdraw from an experiment,' MISAKA says. 'As a Special Existence, MISAKA 10032 falls into the category of human subject. The Network has been informed of standard experiment procedures and will take action to uphold them.'"
Suppressing a sarcastic quip, I gave the clone's words some consideration.
This could be a simple oversight by the researchers. I'm sure they wouldn't want any unethical experiments happening to them, so that'd explain why the Network is so conscious about ethics of all things.
I don't like it- it seems too convenient.
However, at the very least, it reaffirmed one thing.
The clones weren't human.
V V V
The light switch was cool beneath my fingers—the apartment went dark. I adjusted my shoes, making sure they were comfortable. My hands patted the sides of my skirt.
Phone? Check.
Money cards? Check.
Handheld mirror? Check.
Turning around, I gave the apartment one last look. It had done me well these past couple of months. Not too big; not too small. Well-regulated temperature-wise. Decent space in the kitchenette.
The room was soundproofed as well. I hadn't gotten a single complaint from the neighbors regarding my guitar playing. Then again, I'd never seen the neighbors either.
It was… fun. But only a little. It was a shame I'd be leaving behind my first acoustic guitar, but lugging it around wouldn't do. Well, I still had the key code to the door. Maybe I'd pick it back up someday. Or not.
Sighing, I gripped the doorknob and turned it, sunlight crashing through the opening. My world went white as I stepped outside.
…
The streets were decently populated. It was nearing midday and the weekend was in full swing. I recalled that many students participated in extracurricular activities on Saturday, meaning that Sunday was the one day that every student was free to relax.
I occasionally got looks, but that was to be expected from the Tokiwadai uniform. Misaka, while not ugly, wouldn't be what I'd call a supermodel. She was slightly above average in the looks department and her figure was a little below average.
But that worked fine for me. Attention would only be a hindrance.
A train zoomed by overhead on one of those fancy hanging rails. I watched it disappear, wondering what it'd be like to ride it.
There were also plenty of cars on the road. A surprising amount, considering the amount of students that populated the city. Wasn't Japan known for its strict traffic laws? If only it was like that back home.
My pace came to a stop as I reached a crosswalk. My foot tapped against the ground as I waited for the light to change.
Holding back a grumble, I swiftly turned around to face my stalker. "How long are you going to follow me?"
"'The Network still awaits your decision,' explains MISAKA." The clone stood a few feet away, expression blank.
Running my hand through my hair, I bit the inside of my cheek.
That's right, I haven't given it an answer yet. But I had time, so it was all good!
According to the clone, I had until 1800 hours to decide. Doing some quick math, that was… 6 PM today.
Naturally, this brings up the question, 'Why haven't I done so already?'
The crosswalk changed colors. Along with a few other students, I slowly strode forward, my head on a swivel for potential hazards.
The reason? Well… I'm still skeptical about the whole 'ethics' thing. There is a chance the scientists are behind this. Or maybe the Network has some nefarious plan to separate me from the experiment so they can take action!
Running a hand down my face, I groaned quietly, a headache on the not-so-distant horizon.
Either way, I have several hours to kill, and I want to get the most out of today before I make any life-changing choices.
Once I was on the other side of the street, I hurriedly made my way to the nearest card-reading machine.
The gray and silver hunk of metal sat unobtrusively against the side of a building, giving plenty of room for a short line without cutting into the walkway.
Stepping behind a student, I patiently waited for the handful of kids to do what they needed to at the ATM. In the corner of my eye, light brown hair swayed behind me.
Talk about tenacious. You'd think it would get bored, but I guess that's expecting too much from a lab rat.
I grimaced, guilt poking the back of my head as though I said something wrong.
Now that it's right behind me, I'll get even more attention. What a pain.
The boy in front of me removed his card from the machine along with several bills, stepping aside to likely make an exciting purchase, judging by his satisfied smile.
Approaching the ATM, I pulled out my personal cash card and inserted it. The unit hummed and whirred before letting out a soft tone. Punching in the PIN, the screen flashed, revealing the amount I had left.
¥56,998
Huh. I stared at the balance. That's a lot more than I expected. It's only been about two weeks since I got the card, so I guess it makes sense.
"'Amazing,' exclaims MISAKA in shock." The clone leaned over my shoulder, its tone not reflecting the so-called 'shock' whatsoever. "'That is a substantial amount of funds,' MISAKA observes, subtly implying that 10032 should be generous with her wealth."
Arching my neck to the side, I grimaced and swiftly ejected the card. Money reacquired, I marched away.
Before I could get far, I heard the soft footfalls of the clone behind me. Keeping my head forward, I sped up my pace.
…
Fortunately, after that one sided interaction, the clone didn't try talking to me again. I walked around the city, without aims or intentions, while the lab rat dutifully trailed behind me.
As I scanned the storefronts, a quaint little shop stood out to me. The windows were cluttered with nick-nacks and decorations; each was carefully placed to produce a warm, homey atmosphere.
I abruptly changed my trajectory, heading toward the store.
There was a short jingle as I pulled open the door. Stepping in, I was met with a similar, yet more orderly environment.
The room was dimly lit, orange lights carefully drawing the eye to particular items and wares. The floor was dark oak; the matte paint scattered the light evenly, leaving no reflections.
Paintings, clocks, shelves, and other decoratives lined the walls. Baubles and trinkets hung from the ceiling by fishing wire. The translucent ornaments left multicolored patterns on the walls and tall shelves.
I carefully walked into the shop, keeping my arms close to my sides. There was a low table right in front of the entrance, box organizers haphazardly stacked on top. It was covered in fancy cards, drawing utensils, and tiny ceramic bunnies.
The bell jingled again—the clone closed the door behind it.
Maneuvering around the table, I moved deeper into the deceptively large shop.
Of course, the tall shelves, cluttered space, and dim lights only give the illusion of being large.
Crouching down, I picked out a small leather notebook. It was light in my hands and the cover felt rough under my fingers. I opened the book and leafed through the pages. It let out a relaxed crinkle, pages thin as tissue.
Snapping the notebook closed, I returned it to the shelf. Cool as it was, it wasn't what I was looking for.
A loud thump crashed into my focus.
Jerking my head to the side, I spotted the clone holding its hip as a row of books slid to their sides. My eyes darted to the floor to see if anything had fallen, but no, it seemed that the noise had been entirely from the clone.
The puppet was looking at the floor, almost as though it were avoiding my gaze… But I knew better.
Exhaling, I shook my head and resumed my perusing.
Wedged between a cardboard box and a glass display case was a medium sized drawing pad. Gripping the top, I attempted to pull it out.
Glass rattled and I immediately ceased my attempts.
That's really stuck in there. Hm. Let's try this.
Holding on to both the top and side of the drawing book, I slowly wiggled it out from its position. Almost like trying to remove the bottom Jenga block.
Then, with a quiet thwump, the notepad dislodged itself. I fell on my butt from the abrupt backlash. Muttering to myself, I stood up and examined the book. The cover had a simple graphic, along with some large katakana that read 'Sketchbook.'
Wearing a satisfied grin, I dusted off the cover and tucked it under my arm.
Nice. Just need something to draw with.
Unlike the drawing pad, obtaining a pen was an easy affair. I snatched a fountain pen out of a plastic utensil holder, its plastic wrap pressing into my fingers.
Items in hand, I started heading back to the front of the shop. Coming around a bookshelf, I came face to face with the clone who had been pleasantly silent up until this moment.
Its eyes were vacant, even as it glanced at my chosen goods.
You've got to be kidding me.
I stood in place, unable to move forward. Looking around the clone, I tried to see if there was any space to walk around. Sadly, that wasn't possible, unless I wanted to push the puppet aside.
Sighing, I raised up my left hand and gestured for the clone to back up.
It walked closer.
Staring in disbelief, I waved at the clone again.
And again, the clone walked closer.
Groaning in frustration, I glowered at the guinea pig. "What are you doing?"
"Attempting to follow your instructions,' says MISAKA, trying her best to help her sister," the clone said.
Clenching the sketchpad tighter, I took a short step back. "Attempting to follow-?"
Oh, wait. The Japanese have a different hand gesture for waving people over, don't they? Wow, that's uh… I guess that's my bad.
Clearing my throat, I relaxed my grip. "Nevermind. Could you step back? I'm trying to move out of here."
Without a word, the clone gave me some space, finally allowing me to purchase my goods.
As I passed the clone, a stray thought climbed into the front of my mind.
The clone followed my instructions pretty quickly. I wonder…
V V V
"Alright, raise your elbow a centimeter higher."
"Tilt your head a couple degrees to the side. No, other way. Okay, perfect."
"Look at the tall building to your right- don't turn your head to look at it!"
I held my hands up, thumb and index fingers holding the shape of a rectangle. I squinted my eyes, carefully examining the subject. "Great. Hold that pose. I'm getting started."
Uncapping the pen, I began sketching in the drawing pad, occasionally glancing up at the near frozen clone.
Huh. Who would've thought the clones would make for excellent sketch models. Who needs a finicky wooden figure with a tool like this?
Wincing at my poor attempt at a joke, I continued, black ink seeping into the page.
As it turned out, the clone was willing to do a lot of requests. I hadn't asked why, but it was likely an attempt to coax me into a false sense of security.
A bead of sweat ran down my forehead, forcing me to wipe it away. The sun weighed heavily on the world below, rays of heat buffeting the surface.
Glancing up, I found that even the clone wasn't immune to the harsh temperature. Each breath grew shorter by the moment, and its sleeves became damp.
Despite the obvious discomfort, the clone held the same position without fail. It was almost admirable.
Checking on my sketch, I found that it was almost done.
Pressing my pen into the paper, I hesitated. Ink slowly bled into the page.
Raising my head, I inspected my surroundings; the park was completely empty. Lush trees swayed in the summer wind. A swingset out of view groaned and squeaked.
The clone didn't move, sweat now running down her chin.
Shutting my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a burst of air.
Looking away from the clone, I patted the bench seat next to me. "I'm about done, so sit in the shade."
Ugh… What's there to feel guilty about? It's just a clone.
Regardless, I couldn't stop my heart from wavering, so I threw myself back into drawing. I flinched as the bench shifted.
The clone was looking over my shoulder, inspecting my art. It said nothing, so I didn't scoot away. My pen went over the sketch, darkening lines and deepening shadows. Each stroke dragged across the rough paper, letting out a harsh scratchy sound.
With that, the sketch was done. It was… okay, all things considered. I didn't have any of my previous muscle memories, so I had to lean into the sketchy look. But I was always best at drawing from reference.
Does this count as a self-portrait?
Any joy I had found from drawing evaporated immediately.
Self-portrait. What a joke. If I tried, could I even draw my own face?
Suddenly, I couldn't look at the picture any further. Turning the page over, I tore it out of the drawing pad.
The paper creased, trepidation washing over me. I glanced at the clone; it stared at the drawing. Although its expression remained the same, there was an odd focus in its eyes.
I grabbed the paper with both of my hands, the fibers were strained in my grasp. Sweat ran down the back of my neck and it wasn't because of the heat.
…
My lips quivered and my grip went slack. I couldn't do it. It just… seemed like such a waste.
Gulping, I thrust the paper into the arms of the clone. It blinked in a convincing display of surprise, grabbing the drawing without thinking.
"'Is something wrong?' Asks MISAKA, concerned over her sister's actions."
"Yes," I mumbled. Standing from the bench, I searched for the shortest path out of the park. Raising my voice, I eyed the clone. "Keep that. I don't want to see it."
Furrowing my brows, I watched as the clone held the drawing close to her chest, as though she were hugging it.
Quickly turning around, I walked away before I could hear whatever drivel it would spout.
V V V
Once again, I was wandering the sidewalks of the city, sparse groups of students commuting around me.
It was later in the day, but the sun still hung high in the sky. I brushed my hair and frowned. Usually, when I stood out in the sun for too long, my hair tended to get super hot-
Right… Light brown hair.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I took some solace in holding the small looking-glass. It had been a relative constant for… quite frankly, a very short amount of time. No more than a month and a half, if I recalled correctly.
I've owned this mirror longer than any other object in my possession. And the appliances back in the apartment don't count.
My stomach softly grumbled, reminding me why I was back in the streets to begin with.
Slowing to a stop, I searched for a restaurant. Or any place that sold food—I wasn't feeling particularly picky today.
"'Where are we going?' inquires MISAKA," the clone asked.
This time, I was able to stop myself from flinching. Pulling out the mirror, I found that the puppet was still a comfortable distance away. Figuratively speaking, as I'd never be comfortable around those things.
It's still holding the drawing-
Waving the thought away, I decided I would deign the false girl with an answer. "I am looking for somewhere to eat."
"'MISAKA understands,' MISAKA informs her sister, only to suddenly check her pockets for money." The clone did nothing of the sort, standing as still as a board. "'MISAKA misplaced her wallet at the facility warehouse,' MISAKA carefully lies, working to garner her sister's sympathies and acquire a greatly desired meal."
The hell?
Shoving the mirror back into my pocket, I turned around and faced the clone. It stared at me, nearly giving the impression of putting up an innocent front.
Slowly approaching the lab rat, I scrutinized it from top to bottom. It looked the same as usual. No change in expression. No change in tone or cadence. Physically, exactly like every other clone I've seen.
Since when do clones poorly lie in an attempt to get… lunch?
Is it adapting? Maybe it's trying to appear more human to knock me off my game.
Goosebumps crawled up my spine as I saw the clone in a new light.
How terrifying.
"'MISAKA 10033, cease your attempts to utilize cheap tactics to obtain undeserving funds from MISAKA 10032,' MISAKA rebukes her prodigal sister." Without warning, a voice came from directly behind me.
A rough cough erupted from my throat as I tripped to the side, barely keeping myself from falling to the ground.
My breathing became erratic and I did my best to calm down. I bent my knees, ready to escape should it become necessary.
The newest arrival looked over in my direction. She was identical to my persistent stalker in every way—down to the lifeless body language and hollow expression. "'Do not listen to MISAKA 10033 regarding the topic of funds,' MISAKA earnestly informs her wayward sister."
I wasn't given time to process the comment as the other clone immediately cut in.
"'MISAKA 10031 spreads only lies and slander,' MISAKA vehemently defends herself, seeking to clear her name in her sister's eyes."
"It is only the truth,' asserts MISAKA. '10033 has time and again squandered her finances for unsanctioned purchases.'"
Both clones finally went silent with that last word. I did everything in my power to stop myself from gaping.
Does the Network want to trick me that badly? I'm honestly impressed. This is leagues better than what I would've expected.
But it's not enough. They can't act human.
It's impossible.
"Sure…" I barely managed a reply, adjusting the collar of my blouse. "I'm gonna keep going this way."
Just as I said, I continued forward. My fears made manifest, I heard the sound of footsteps double as the newest clone decided to tag along.
V V V
Cool air blasted my bangs to the side, forcing me to briefly squint my eyes. Relaxing just a tad, I took in the beautiful sight.
A bastion of wonderment in these trying times: the convenience store. Otherwise known as a コンビニ, or konbini in romaji.
It was one of the few things Testament didn't need to shove in my face.
Two semesters of Japanese, reduced to an insignificant footnote in the face of Academy City ingenuity.
Biting my tongue, I forced the thought aside in favor of what was actually important. Getting lunch.
Navigating the store was no trouble, I had been to numerous Japanese supermarkets before I came here. Technically, Japanese-American supermarkets, but it didn't really matter.
Students and adults alike browsed the shelves. I occasionally got glances, thanks to my two identical stalkers, but the city's 'common sense' prevented any confrontations.
On the leftmost side of the store were open refrigerated shelves lined up against the wall. Sadly, they were mostly empty, as lunch had since passed.
Let's see, I don't want anything that needs a microwave, so ramen and udon are out. Maybe sushi?
I examined one of the boxes, eight pieces of salmon nigiri looking positively scrumptious. Not enough to fill my stomach, so I grabbed a rice ball for good measure.
It was a short walk back to the front of the store. I placed my purchases on the conveyor belt and waited for the high schooler to finish bagging his goods. Sighing, I glanced back at my items, only to find the number had tripled.
My eyebrows scrunched together and my lips twisted into a scowl. I faced the two clones and pointed at the newly burdening groceries. "What the hell is this?"
"'MISAKA doesn't know what you're referring to,' says MISAKA." The clone closer to me tilted its head and hid its hands behind its back. "'However, among your items, 10031 may have hidden her lunch, as she had forgotten to eat it earlier. Please be forgiving to her,' MISAKA explains calmly, disguising her nervousness."
"'MISAKA did not forget to eat her lunch. In fact, MISAKA ate at precisely the scheduled time. The Network can attest to this fact,' refutes MISAKA, crossing her arms in exasperation." The puppet did not cross her arms. "Once more, MISAKA implores that you do not humor 10033's falsehoods. She must learn to properly manage her funds and suffer the consequences of doing otherwise."
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I grumbled meaningless sounds beneath my breath. My gaze flickered between the two clones, but it was pointless to try and read their faces.
I opened my mouth to interrogate them myself, but stopped just short of asking the first question. The thought of listening to another millisecond of their 'MISAKA this' or 'Network that' killed any motivation to pursue that action.
"Y'know what, who even cares?" I threw my hands up and spun on my heels, walking over to the cashier. "I have the spare cash, might as well save myself the headache."
"MISAKA is eternally grateful-"
"MISAKA must express her deepest protest-"
Plugging my ears, I stomped over to the cashier.
"Hello!" My voice was muffled as I gave the worker my biggest and most cheerful of smiles. "Make this quick."
V V V
Lunch, thankfully, was a quiet affair.
We sat on a bench not too far from the convenience store. It was a nice spot, away from the road, but a short distance from the sidewalk.
A large tree covered our spot, providing shade from the waning sun. A warm gust rustled the leaves, like nature's softest windchime.
I held my last piece of sushi between my chopsticks, wondering what happened to the rest.
Not literally, but it certainly felt like my meal vanished.
Solemnly, I ate the last piece, savoring the fatty, delectable combination of salmon, rice, and wasabi.
Directly to my right, the clone who added food to my purchase munched away without a second thought. It was eating slowly, like it was taking its time to enjoy the flavors.
The second clone, who was to the right of the food clone, leaned forward and made eye contact. I couldn't tell what it was thinking as it stared with empty eyes. "'MISAKA is greatly disappointed with your choice to indulge 10033,' says MISAKA, making her displeasure known."
I said nothing. The lab rat took that as permission to continue. "'It is important that MISAKA 10033, and by extension the Sisters who share her proclivities, are properly informed of the right way to do things. For example, not wasting her funds on meaningless sweets,' explains MISAKA."
"MISAKA was given a set amount of funds for the month. Funds that do not roll over." The other clone, 10033, spoke while eating. It was gross. "'Therefore, MISAKA has the obligation to use as much of the resources as possible,' MISAKA says, exasperated that she must share this aloud."
"'10033 is being obtuse,' MISAKA groans, frustrated with her sister's nonsensical reasoning." The other clone, I couldn't recall its number, stared at 10033 with an absent look.
Uneasiness dug deep. Deeper than bone. My fingers clasped together as I tried to think of something—anything—to distract myself from this situation.
Why do the clones talk like that?
The question seemed to come from nowhere, yet it was always something that lingered in the back of my mind. Despite having been… acquainted with the Network, some things were never made clear to me.
The muscles in my forearms tensed as I gripped my hands.
Maybe I could ask?
It was still hot outside, but not unbearably so. Regardless, I could feel the sweat on my brow and a damp chill on my arms.
I glanced at the clones and was greeted by silence. Their back and forth had come to a complete halt, somehow sensing that I wanted to speak up.
"I…"
My voice failed me, my throat dry. I licked my lips, taking an interest in the aesthetic patterns on the sidewalk.
"I wanted to ask. Why do you talk like that? Like, the third person and the narration and… stuff." My question weakly petered off as I felt like curling up in a ball.
The clone furthest from me tilted its head and stared for just a moment. Without any windup, it spoke. "'All MISAKAs use Network standard speech patterns for optimal data archival. 'Narration,' as you describe it, is simply a means of recording context that the Network cannot pick up on,' says MISAKA."
"In regards to speaking in third person," the clone continued. "'MISAKA is not an individual, but one piece of a greater whole. Therefore, utilizing a singular, subjective pronoun would be inaccurate and confusing,' finishes MISAKA, hoping to have provided a satisfactory answer."
As soon as the clone was done, 10033 ate its last bite of food and wiped its mouth with a napkin. It clapped its hands together. "'Gochisousama,' says MISAKA, grateful to the wonderful chefs who prepared this meal."
Testament whispered in the back of my mind the cultural significance of the phrase, but I paid it no mind. Rather, I couldn't even register it, as my thoughts were infinitely more preoccupied.
My pulse was beginning to pick up; my breaths were shorter yet deeper. I looked at the clones. I looked long and hard, trying to find something, anything I could've missed.
The clones are part of a massive Network connected via identical brainwaves, along with the abilities of an electromaster to take it to the next step.
The clones have no feelings, no emotions, no soul. They are lab rats created at 180,000 yen a pop with the sole purpose of taking part in the experiment.
Blank expressions were all I saw, the puppets unaware or incapable of understanding my internal struggle. My foot tapped the ground at a rapid pace and I bit the inside of my cheek.
Why do these two clones argue with each other? Why do they narrate experiencing relief, frustration, exasperation? If everything the clones do is for the experiment, then why record such frivolous lies?
Why go through the trouble of trying to trick me, convince me that they're actually human, only to claim the opposite? Why would the Network need to fool me, use subterfuge and manipulation?
And… Why does 10033 still have my drawing?
Squeezing my eyes shut, my nails dug into my hands. "I have one last question," I whispered.
"How much of me is recorded in the Network? Just how many memories did you take and cram into your grand archives, ready to model the perfect simulation just to torture me?!" Even though my volume remained unchanged, I ran out of air, quietly gasping for breath.
The pounding in my head was loud, rhythmic, and unceasing. The world was dark, and my insides felt null and void.
Then I heard a quiet inhale.
"To MISAKA's knowledge, there is no record of MISAKA 10032's memories anywhere within the Network."
My eyes shot open and I gaped at the clone. But contrary to my expectations, it was 10033 who had spoken. There was a smidge of a frown on her face, one that should've been a trick of the light. "'That is unusual,' comments MISAKA, unsure what to make of the discovery."
"That can't be the case." The other clone spoke up, lips thinning. "'MISAKA 10032 was recorded to have been a part of the Network for the duration of a month after production,' retorts MISAKA, looking into the matter herself-"
"I don't get it," I muttered.
Both clones went silent.
"I DON'T GET IT!"
My voice echoed as I screamed at the thing. Jumping to my feet, my trash flung onto the sidewalk as I stood in front of the clone.
My hands reached out and I grabbed it by the vest. A rictus snarl twisted my features. It stared at me with uncharacteristically wide eyes, mouth ajar. "MISAKA doesn't-"
"Don't lie to me!" I pulled on its vest, more trash scattering around us. "You pretend to be human, badly at that, all to get my guard down. Then you go back; you claim you're just another lab rat! And to finish it off, you twist the knife. You try to give me false hope."
"This is inappropriate behavior," said the second clone. "MISAKA warns her sister to-"
My gaze jerked over to the interloper as I leveled an appropriate look towards it.
It froze mid motion, hand outstretched. Its mouth opened and closed without a sound, words lost and forgotten.
Lead filled my stomach as I was faced with a familiar scene.
Tearing my eyes away from the gir- the clone, I returned my attention to the incessant stalker. She- it was pale, considerably paler than before.
The clone's eyes were glistening, as though tears would burst at any moment. It was like watching a little girl's heart break in two.
A bucket of sub-zero fluid dumped over my head. I was being ripped in two. I couldn't move; my feet were rooted to the ground. I wanted to run. I wanted to disappear from view and hide from the world.
Confusion battered my head, phantom pain blossoming like a firework.
Why do they look so human?!
In spite of the maelstrom of emotions, thoughts took form. They coagulated and coalesced into an ugly mass of contradictions.
They claim to be emotionless tools. Lambs created for the slaughter. They don't care about life, liberty, or happiness in the slightest. They have no individuality. No personhood. No reason to be saved. To be loved.
10033 was wasteful and lax. Distant, yet overbearing.
The other clone was strict and by the books. Willing to be a spoilsport for the sake of the others.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say the clones were in… denial.
I staggered back, pulling my hands away as though I were zapped.
"I couldn't have-!" My voice cracked. A million pinpricks rippled across my skin. My stomach churned and my throat was parched. "I wouldn't have-!"
Before me were two girls who appeared no older than fourteen. Their expressions were muted and awkward, as though unused to using those muscles.
And no delusions- no lies- no amount of paranoia could deny the truth. What was in front of me the entire time.
The Sisters were human.
My arms stretched wide—neither clone was given the opportunity to react.
Two shivering bodies pressed close to me. I held the girls firmly but gently. There was barely any strength in the action. Just pulling away would be enough to break the contact.
I hiccuped, my vision blurring. "I'm sorry," I croaked.
There was so much more I wanted to say. Maybe apologize for ignoring their plight. For treating them so coldly and so full of hostility. Not seeing them for what they were and believing the lies and drivel they'd been buried in.
But whenever I went to speak, my chest clenched and my throat tightened.
Red hot shame enveloped me, so I inhaled deeply, making one last attempt. "You matter. You all matter so much more than you could know."
At that moment, the clone whose number still eluded me broke away from my grasp. She backed away quickly, glancing around frantically.
"MISAKA doesn't understand. That doesn't make any…" She trailed off in a slurry of frustration and uncertainty.
I let go of 10033, only to remain in place as the girl finally returned the hug. Her gaze bounced between the two of us and she slowly let go. I winced, but turned to face the other clone regardless.
"It's-" I hesitated. "It's okay if you don't understand. It's okay if this is confusing, or strange, or even painful. But you need to know that you are worth it. And I mean it. I really do."
She stared with amazed, uncomprehending eyes, before seizing up. Her pupils constricted and her skin took on a deathly pallor. The clone slowly turned around.
"The experiment. MISAKA's scheduled experiment is now."
Cicadas hummed. The roads were washed orange, street lines sparkling. Sidewalks were bereft of the usual bluster.
"What?"
The clone took a step forward. Then another. Her walk was stilted, even more robotic than usual. My heart leapt to my throat and I moved after her.
"Wait a second!"
Then I saw him. Past the clone, further down the sidewalk, was the entrance to an innocuous alleyway. The evening rays of light stopped short of the space, coating it in darkness. But peaking out from between the two buildings was a mop of dirty white hair and red eyes.
My muscles spasmed and I jerked to a stop. My legs failed me; my body locking in place. An invisible vice grip settled on my throat, compressing the airway. My sight blurred and sharpened erratically.
His head turned my way, cold eyes like an icepick, puncturing my skull. Death itself turned its indifferent attention to me, the River Styx crashing over me.
And like that, it vanished. The killer of thousands glided into the shadows, becoming one with the darkness. I took a deep breath, filling my burning lungs with oxygen.
The clone took another step.
I opened my mouth to shout again.
Nothing but a harsh rasp left my lips.
I tensed my legs to run after her. To grab her and never let go.
My feet were melted into the concrete.
I reached my hand out, fingers grasping for her back.
But she was too far. Too distant. Out of my reach.
A thunderous drumming struck the sides of my head. I shook with tension, with exertion, sweat running down my chin.
Glaring at my legs, I pulled with all my might.
Move!
Something twitched.
MOVE!
Nothing changed. The moment it mattered most, my control slipped between my fingers like the sands of time.
Please move…
I looked back up, but there was no one there.
The clone was gone.
The sky darkened and the cicadas went silent. Trees and roads fell to the wayside, leaving me nowhere.
My heart thrummed. It rippled and riled, bouncing around my ribcage without any regard.
The once rich refreshing air turned to smog. Every breath was like sucking through a straw, only to fill my chest with poison. I wheezed, shuttering in pain.
It happened again.
I let her die again.
The world swirled, ink black waters pressing into me. The weight of the entire ocean began to choke me. Tear into what little there was left to smother.
A light touch grazed my shoulder.
How could I let this happen? She was there, right in front of me.
The pressure increased, like something was rubbing my back.
I'm such a…
Without warning, arms wrapped around me. The warmth of another seeped into my skin, engulfing me. My pulse was irregular and rapid, but another beat tenderly stepped onto the scene. It was steady and strong. Firm but gentle. It called to my heart, comforting it. Hugging it.
I blinked, my vision overtaken by the fabric of a Tokiwadai vest. At some point, I had fallen to my knees and the side of my head was resting against the chest of… 10033.
Glancing up, the girl met my gaze. Her arms wrapped around me tighter. "'Are you okay?' asks MISAKA, deeply concerned for her sister."
Though her tone didn't match her intention, I knew she was sincere. To a degree I couldn't have ever imagined. Her once empty eyes were overflowing with care. Or perhaps, they always had been.
I really was such a fool.
"I…" I sniffed, resisting the urge to wipe my nose. "I think so. Thank you. For everything."
"'It was only natural,' expresses MISAKA-"
Chuckling, I cut off the sister, staggering to my feet and separating from the girl. "When someone says thank you, all you have to say is 'you're welcome.' Alright?"
The clone's eyebrows squeezed together in uncertainty. "'You are welcome,' says MISAKA."
My shoulders slumped as I rubbed my eyes. My body still shuddered from the adrenaline rushing through my veins. I inhaled deeply and held it. My stomach strained as I exhaled.
Even as I kept my attention on the girl, the alleyway stuck out in the corner of my vision. It held as an immutable fact. An impossible wall that couldn't be scaled.
But that wall was completely overshadowed by the girl who stood in front of me. The sister who cared enough to try.
My cheeks tensed as I struggled to put on a smile. It was the most genuine smile I ever had the pleasure of wearing.
It was weak and strained—teetering between a grin and a grimace. To any onlookers, it must've looked agonizing.
And maybe it was, because I knew what I had to do.
For the girl who tried, who brought me out from the lowest of lows?
I would return the favor.