And thus, the first chance he got, the boy would go back to those columns and write down another memory, another variable. Before long the notebook was no longer suitable for schoolwork. There was no way he could let a teacher see it. Or anyone else… At least, the first few pages camouflaged the rest of its content. But a simple thought of someone seeing it made him feel like self-combusting.

And yet it was always close – under the proper notebooks, be it in school or at home, when studying; in the back pocket when he was out. Easy to reach whenever a new memory popped up. Or just to stare at in another futile attempt to make sense of it all.

Even with one option dismissed, there were still two left.

Which one was correct?

To find out, he had to solve this problem. To recall every event, every conversation. Turn them into variables and then add, deduct, multiply…

His mind would trail off focusing on the question.

At the most unexpected moments.

"Human, something is burning…"

"Kamijou, you should take off the wrapping before eating the hot bun…"

"Kami-yan, catch… damn it, stop daydreaming!"

"Touma, no! Sphynx is not a plate that needs washing!"

"Meeeooow!"

Consumed by the mystery, the boy would miss many things.

A call from the Headmistress first thing in the morning never boded well. But when she laid out her proposal, Watanabe was truly shocked.

"You want to organize a demonstration? Now? With all due respect, ma'am, I must object."

"Why?" the Headmistress asked, far too nonchalant.

"This is hardly time for our students to go show off their powers in some far away country. They already have enough on their plate with the exams."

"Please, Watanabe-san, it's not like we are sending the whole school. And it will only take a couple of days. They can study on the plane and in their free time there. Our students are used to much more challenging conditions."

Watanabe held back a sigh. Sometimes, Tokiwadai seemed too ridiculous. Even by the Academy City standards. "Is it really not possible to move the demonstration to April, at least?" she asked.

"Not a chance. I barely managed to arrange it as is. The Russians are still… unhappy with how the last demonstration turned out. If I start making changes, they just might cancel the whole thing."

"Russians? Wait… don't tell me…"

"Exactly! I'm organizing a comeback."

Watanabe was lost for words. "But why, ma'am?" she finally asked.

"The last demonstration was a complete mess. To put it frankly, it is a stain on Tokiwadai's reputation. Misaka-san has made us all a big disservice."

"Everybody agrees that it wasn't her fault. If she hasn't intervened, it would've been a big disaster."

"Yeah, yeah." The Headmistress said dismissively. "She was a hero and all that. But she still caused a lot of damage. The shopping center was practically rebuilt from scratch. Many didn't like it… For months, I've been easing people into the idea of giving us a second chance. Took a lot of sweet words, favors and… other means but it finally happened."

As Watanabe stayed silent, the Headmistress asked, "Or you believe we should allow this mishap to keep tainting our good image?"

"Well, no… I just wish it was at a better time."

"Your concerns are duly noted. But everything has already been decided."

Watanabe breathed out a long sigh and picked up a pen. "Very well. I'll handle the arrangements. Have you already decided who we will be sending?"

"Why, of course. Misaka Mikoto."

The pen almost dropped out of her hand. "Excuse me, ma'am. I think I misheard…"

"You didn't."

"Then I'm all the more confused. Sending Misaka-san there after the last time… especially knowing how often she gets into trouble… and wanting to improve Tokiwadai's image… Why?"

"For the very same reason I'm organizing this demonstration. Misaka-san is one of our best students, our Ace. Her name – and reputation – is tied to Tokiwadai. I can't have people think her talents are limited to finding trouble."

"And yet if something happens again, it will be even harder to change everyone's mind."

"You are being way too pessimistic, Watanabe-san."

"Maybe, but we can't overlook Misaka-san's adventurous nature. Even if we lock her up in her hotel room, she will still find a way to escape and roam around. Stumbling onto some kind of incident once more."

The Headmistress grumbled, "Unfortunately, that is very likely. So, I decided to send someone along with Misaka-san."

"You mean a teacher?"

"No, a student."

That left Watanabe more than a little surprised. Though there was no rule for the number of students, they had only ever sent one for a demonstration. A single esper was enough to shock the minds of those outside the Academy City. But two…

"You really want to leave an impression, don't you, ma'am?"

"Can you blame me? After the last year's fiasco? We need to minimize the risks."

The best way would be to exclude Misaka Mikoto from the equation, Watanabe thought. But instead she said, "And who will be this other student?"

"Someone well-mannered and responsible who can keep Misaka-san in check. Also, they would need to have good synergy, to put on the best show possible."

"The obvious choice would be Shirai Kuroko. They are practically joined at the hip. Their teamwork is impeccable."

"Shirai is…" The Headmistress paused briefly. "Her teleportation isn't flashy enough. And I'd rather not get on Judgment's bad side. We can't take away one of their most valuable members at a time like this."

"Hm… Hokaze Junko then? She is a very responsible girl and her and Misaka-san's powers…"

"No," the Headmistress cut off. "Besides, I already have a perfect candidate in mind. Kongo Mitsuko."

At first, Watanabe was a little annoyed. But there she gave it some thought. Misaka Mikoto and Kongo Mitsuko. Lightning and wind. Raijin and Fuujin, as they had been called during the Daihasei. There was certainly synergy. And flashiness? Oh, most certainly. Not to mention, Mitsuko was a model student, even if a little eccentric. Perhaps, she would be able to reign in Mikoto's adventurous spirit.

Though still dubious about the plan, Watanabe accepted the Headmistress's choice. They discussed the details briefly before the call ended. And for a good while Watanabe kept on playing out the conversation in her head. The way this whole event had come together, scheduling it so close to the exams, sending two students. Being so adamant about including Mikoto.

Perhaps, I am overthinking it, she thought.

Yet the feeling of unease wouldn't go away.

February came to a close, stepping aside for March, with its warmth – and anxiety for exams. Students were burrowing into textbooks, constantly writing something down.

And so did the boy.

His attendance was finally on the rise. If he kept it up and scored well on the exams, then surely… he wouldn't get held back…

But even during his intense study sessions, while taking a small break, he would often find himself getting back to the bet. Scribbling on the edges of pages anything he could remember.

Only to get into a dead-end, again and again.

But still, he wouldn't ask for help.

Not from his friends.

Or the girl that had imposed this challenge on him.

Whenever they came across each other, they'd dance around it, chatting and picking on each other like usual. And yet there would be this awkward feeling hanging between them. The girl clearly wanted to ask how was he was faring. But the boy… oh, he wanted to say a great many things, mostly about proper Valentine's traditions and how those who break it should suffer misfortune.

However, both kept it to themselves and quickly part ways.

Wishing for and dreading the White Day.

In a certain room, cluttered with many unnecessary things, another person had been writing away in a notebook. But instead of a riddle from one stubborn girl, these were plans.

For a particular dense boy.

Pages were full of strategies, possibilities both good and bad, means and pawns to use. In a way, it was very much like planning out a story. What needs to happen, how to push events in the right direction and course-correct when things inevitably go astray. After all, people weren't characters you could write however you like. Surely, there would be enough surprises and complications. But, in the end, everybody had a role in this little play and at the very least they needed to perform adequately.

The person smiled. Indeed, they had been setting a stage. But also – a chess board. For this would be as much of a battle as a story. And the density that boy possessed, the way he ignored certain things or simply dismissed them – all of it made him a tough opponent.

Which only promised more fun.

The pieces were coming together, but a certain spiky-haired boy was none the wiser. And even if there were any visible signs of a scheme bearing fruit around him, he would have likely missed them. For when he wasn't buried in textbooks desperately trying to save himself from being held back, his hand would reach for the notebook he wouldn't dare to use for schoolwork anymore.

It was an equation of a different kind and something inside him yearned to solve it.