Have you ever been unconscious before?
No?
It's like when you were sleeping, but with a twist. You're not really asleep, but you're not really awake either. You're just kind of... floating around in this weird in-between state where you're not really in control of anything. The other distinct difference was the constant fight or flight response. Your heart races, your muscles tense, and you're always on the edge of panicking.
The throbbing pain and searing heat on his side only makes it worse. Not just on the skin but within; like being burnt from the inside out. Every breath feels like a razor blade being dragged across his insides. And the worst part? He can't even get himself to scream. Couldn't lift a muscle to even struggle. It's like his body has given up on him, decided that death was the only option. And there's something else, too. A buzzing in his ears, like he's underwater. The world is fading in and out, becoming less and less real with each passing moment.
And then there's the voices. Voices whispering to him, calling his name, telling him to wake up. But it's not really them. No, it's something else, something deeper and more insistent. Something he can't quite place or understand. As the darkness encroaches ever closer, Hirano tries desperately to cling to consciousness, to make sense of it all, but his strength is slipping away with each passing moment.
Is he going to die? It was a silly question, really. Of course he was going to die. That was a foregone conclusion. People didn't just survive having their guts cut open. And even if he did, he'd probably be in worse shape than he was now. He doesn't like the sound of that. But then again, he has people waiting for him out there. Mom was the prime example.
So yeah, he doesn't feel like dying. At least, not right now. He's got things to do, people to see. He's got a fresh perspective to deliver. And oh, the metaphors his body could teach. The throb of agony, so red and wet, like the bloody apple of his fate. The screams around him, deafening silence, a mere whisper in a hurricane's wrath.
The way his head is swimming is starting to make him feel like his body is a tiny boat adrift in a stormy sea. And the ground beneath him, so solid and unyielding, is like the earth itself, waiting patiently for him to return to its embrace. The pain, the fear, the confusion, all of it coalescing into a single, all-consuming sensation, like being wrapped in a tightly woven blanket of suffering.
The only voice he could hear beside his own was a familiar one. Kikyou. It started off faint, slowly getting louder but there was barely any coherence in the words. Her voice sounded like it was coming from a great distance, muffled and hazy, as if she was speaking through cotton wool. To make matters worse, the voice fades and reappears making it even more difficult to focus on.
It was definitely her voice, he'd recognize it everywhere. But trying to understand what the hell she is saying is another story in itself. Like trying to follow a drunkard's slurred words or deciphering the scribbles of a dyslexic. Frustrating as fuck, to say the least. But still, there's something reassuring about it.
Then he could feel everything again. The mattress on his skin and the pillow beneath his head, his nerves were starting to respond again, and he was aware once more. The pounding in his ears slowly eased, replaced by the beeping of monitors and the hum of machines. His eyes fluttered open, the darkness of unconsciousness retreating back to the corners of his mind, and he was greeted by the harsh light of a hospital room.
The first thing he noticed was the ceiling on top of him. He was hospitalized all over again.
His fingertips feel the scratchy texture of the sheets beneath him. He could recall most of the things that had happened before he ends up on this bed. He could recall learning that magic is real, that necromancers are real. DA has weapons made to combat espers of his calliber. And... Last Order.
His eyes widened as his body yanked himself upright, the tangled sheets slipping from his grip and pooling at his waist. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath as the sudden movement had caused a sharp pain across his abdomen. The throbbing pain felt even more at that moment, as if to remind him of the injury he had sustained. His hand instinctively went to the source of the pain, feeling the rough texture of a bandage beneath his shirt.
He groaned, trying to hold in a whine as the tears welled up in his eyes. The pain was unbearable, and he felt like he was going to pass out again. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but the sharp stabs of pain in his side made it difficult to focus. His vision swam for a moment, and he had to close his eyes and lean back against the pillow, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
His teeth are seriously going to be chipped by the time he's done gritting them, the pain was so intense. He glanced down and noticed that the bandage is growing more and more red. He'd unintentionally torn the wound open. His breathing is shallow and ragged, and he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to stay conscious. The beeping of the monitors beside him grew faster, matching his elevated heart rate.
The sliding door slammed open as several nurses rushed in, their faces a mix of concern and urgency. One of them, a tall woman with graying hair and a no-nonsense demeanor, quickly moved to his side, her hand reaching for his arm. They're saying something along the lines of an alarm outside, about his bleeding, such and such.
He tried to focus on what they were saying, but the words seemed to slip through his mind like water through a sieve. His head was spinning, and the pain was becoming unbearable. The tall nurse's voice cut through his daze: "You're in shock. We need to get that wound stitched up again, and quickly." Her words were firm, leaving no room for argument.
He nodded weakly, his strength ebbing away as the blood loss took its toll. The other nurses worked efficiently, one preparing a new set of bandages while another adjusted the IV drip. When his bandage was off, his breath became heavier at the sight of it.
Had the cut been any wider, his intestines would've spilled out onto the floor. The wound looked angry and swollen, a bright red gash that stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. If two gorillas were to pull at each end of his body, the wound would literally rip him in half. The nurse dabbed at the wound with gauze, which quickly turned crimson as it absorbed the blood. She worked quickly, her movements precise and practiced, as she began to clean and prep the area for stitching.
He whined as the antiseptic stung the exposed wound, the pain sharp and searing. He felt like his insides were on fire, burning and twisting in ways that made him want to vomit. This is what he's got to deal with now. He's seriously going to fucking die, and he's got no idea what to do about it. He's just lying here, helpless, as the nurses work to save his life. The tall nurse, whose name he couldn't remember, began to thread a needle with thick black thread, her movements quick and sure.
"His blood pressure is too low. Anesthesia would only exacerbate the situation; it might shut his organs down." She turned to him, speaking firmly and professionally. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to be very still while I work on this. Any sudden movement could make the wound worse. Can you manage that for me?"
He couldn't even answer even if he wanted to. He had his eyes on the wound. He's really fucking scared right now, he really is. They're really gonna do an emergency surgery on him, and he's terrified. He's got no idea what to do. He couldn't do his calculations with how stressed out he is. His vectors are useless when Hirano himself is in a panic.
They had to put an oxygen mask on him and began the surgery immediately. No doctors. No anesthesia. No time to explain. Just the cold, sharp prick of the needle and the tugging as the stitches were put in place, one by one. "Hold still," she said firmly, not unkindly. "This is going to hurt, but we need to get this closed up."
Hirano rarely ever experiences pain. The last time he'd ever felt one was years ago. And that had been the most painful thing he's had. Until now, when the needle punctured his skin, the pain was excruciating.
He passed out again.
And he's back in this place again, that same swimming darkness that is his mind. The only thing he's aware of is the pain, pulsing through him like a drumbeat. It's a dull throb now, but it's still there, a constant reminder of his mortality. He can feel the bandages on his stomach, tight and itchy, binding him to the bed. He's aware that he's alive, but for how long is the question.
It's much calmer here, just being aware that he was unconscious, sitting at the back of his mind while he's still trapped in the blackness. There's a slight ache in his head, dull and persistent, like a migraine that won't quite let go. The taste in his mouth is metallic and dry.
Can you sigh when you're basically unconscious? Because if you can, he's doing it right now. He didn't think that you could feel something so painful up until now. The stitches pull at his skin as he shifts slightly. He's grateful for the nurse's quick work, but also resentful that he's been put in this position in the first place.
He's alone in the darkness of his mind, with nothing but his own thoughts and the distant beeping of the machines to keep him company. He wondered how much time has passed while he was here? His mental clock wasn't exactly the most reliable, but he guessed it had been at least a few hours. The pain in his side had dulled to a manageable ache, but the memory of the agony he'd endured was still fresh in his mind.
Then he felt that pull again. He's going to wake up soon. Oh boy, he hoped that whatever the nurses are doing is already complete. He doesn't like having to go through that pain again. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if they hadn't finished yet, or if his condition had worsened during his unconscious state. The fear of the unknown crept in, a cold tendril of dread winding through his chest and making it even harder to breathe.
When he opened his eyes, the outside world is close to night already. Maybe around 6 pm or something. That would mean he's been unconscious for at least 2 and a half hour. He got out of school at 3 pm. So yeah, that seems about right.
He lifted his body up as slowly as he can, craning his head over to look at his stomach. The hospital gown has been changed into a new one. Probably because the last one was soaked in his blood. He could even still smell the metallic scent of blood. The bandage on his stomach is now pristine white, no red seeping through. It looked like the nurses did a good job.
He took a deep breath, wincing slightly as the movement tugged at his stitches. As it seems, breathing hard would cause pain. He tried sighing, and yes, it brought just about the same pain as before, a sharp, piercing stab in his side. The antiseptic still stung his skin, a constant reminder of the ordeal he'd endured.
"You should know that throwing yourself around before your wound even heals by a tiny bit does nothing but aggravate it and make the whole process of healing take even longer." A familiar voice, kind but firm, came from beside him. The old doctor, Heaven Canceller, appears to have been standing beside the bed for quite some time now. He was holding a clipboard and pen, his eyes fixed on Hirano with a stern look.
Hirano felt the stitches pull when he try to sit up, a sharp, searing pain shooting through his side. He winced, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to steady himself. The doctor's words hit home, and he slumped back onto the pillow, the movement causing another jolt of pain to course through his body.
"Would you like a painkiller for your suffering? I can administer one if you think you'll be able to stomach it." Doctor Canceller set his clipboard aside, his face showing genuine concern beneath the professional demeanor. "Seeing as how you were quite nearly been cut in two, I'm a bit concerned about the long-term implications of that particular injury." His eyes flicker to the wound, a look of grim approval evident on his face at the clean stitch job.
The doctor's words were measured and slow, as though he was deliberately controlling himself. He looks at his intently, waiting for his response. Hirano's head lolled to the side as he stared at the doctor, his face twisted in pain and confusion. The doctor's words about his injury being "quite nearly been cut in two" made him shudder involuntarily, causing the stitches to pull once again. He gritted his teeth against the pain, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to keep his composure.
"Yes." Hirano forced out through gritted teeth. He stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the doctor as he reached for something in a nearby drawer. A bunch of pills from what he could hear; a bunch of pills rattling as the doctor picked them up and poured them into a small plastic cup.
"Would you like me to get your family over to accompany you instead of this old doctor?" Heaven Canceller asked, his tone laced with amusement. He handed Hirano the cup of pills and a small paper cup of water, his eyes never leaving Hirano's face. "I have other patients to attend to, and I doubt you want to keep me around, given how I tend to ramble on about things you probably don't care about." He chuckled softly, the sound almost warm in the sterile hospital room.
Talk about family, the white haired boy could recall some other things. His eyes widened a little. "Where's the kid? And Kikyou. Where are they?" The doctor's expression softened slightly at the mention of family.
"Last Order... the Anti-Skills are working on it as we're talking right now. As for Miss Yoshikawa, we couldn't grant her entry because of your... condition. But I'm sure she's somewhere nearby, maybe in the waiting room, or perhaps already on her way. As for you, young man, I'd advise you to focus on your recovery first. The wound is deep and the healing process will be long and arduous. Rest is key, as is following your doctor's orders. Now, take these pills and get some sleep. Your body needs it."
Heaven Canceller's words were firm but laced with concern as he spoke. The old man looked serious. Very. This isn't the first time he's seen the old man like this, but it is the first time he's directed it at Hirano. The doctor's hand rested on Hirano's shoulder for a moment, squeezing gently before he stepped back. "I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. Try not to do anything too... heroic in the meantime." With that, he turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps mingling in with other steps outside in the corridor.
Hirano stared at the pills in his hand, his fingers shaking slightly from the nausea, the pain, and the lingering effects of his ordeal. He lifted the cup to his lips, downing the pills with a few sips of water. The pills left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he was grateful for the promise of relief they offered. It's still taking a toll on him, trying to accept what he'd just witnessed.
Learning the impossible, the fight, the near-death experience - it all flashed through his mind in a disjointed sequence. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, grumbling nonsense under his breath. The world was spinning a bit, but he was starting to feel the effects of the painkillers kicking in, numbing the pain that he felt on his side, leaving only the feel of the threads holding his skin together.
Even in this condition, the world still wouldn't let him rest. He still has Last Order in his mind. The more he thought about it the more he felt like absolute shit. How could he have stood there and watched it all unfold? I mean, he did get a taste of what it would be like to die, and he didn't like it much. But it still doesn't justify the fact that he watched as those people handle the single DA agent. They were tackling the bastard and was doing a pretty damn good job at keeping them down.
At least, until several more of them showed up.
The sliding door opened. He turned to look at who came in. And it isn't whom he was expecting at all. That blank eye, expression and posture, waltzing into the room with such robotic precision that it was almost comical. It was Misaka, but it wasn't the Misaka he knew of. 'A clone,' he thought bitterly. He hadn't met one in years. And still, just seeing one again is enough to bring back the nausea at full strength. The clone stopped at the foot of the bed, its face tilted to one side as it stared at him with an almost childlike curiosity. It wore the same Tokiwadai set as the original, though this clone's hair was noticeably shorter.
"You're awake. Says Misaka as Misaka stared at the bandage on his side with concern." Its words were flat, lacking any inflection or emotion, even though she had, not even a moment ago, confessed to being concerned. The clone's eyes flickered to his face, then back to the bandage, then to his face again, as if trying to process the information it was receiving.
Things were silent for a moment, what with the boy not really knowing how to answer such a question. He was too busy trying to keep himself from shuddering. He was still haunted at what he'd done back then. The guilt gnawing in his chest simply wouldn't go away.
The clone's face tilted to the other side, its head moving in a slow, deliberate motion as it processed the lack of response. "Is that how you act upon seeing someone after a while? Says Misaka with a disapproving tone even though she's just playing with him." That tick that he'd so closely associate with Last Order, that third-person narrative style, made it impossible for them to lie. Not even for their own good.
To hear her say that she was just messing with him, in her own way, made him feel slightly better. Still, the guilt was overwhelming, and he knew he had to address it eventually.
"How... have you been?"
It blinked. The answer came after a quick pause. "Better than you. Says Misaka sarcastically, utilizing the things she's learned on the internet to be more humorous." The clone was smiling, though it didn't look like the traditional curved-up smile, but more like a flat line with the corners slightly upturned. It was the best approximation of a smile a clone could make, and Hirano found himself smiling back despite himself.
"I'm glad then."
The clone tilted its head again, as if studying the boy's expression. "You don't sound so glad. Says Misaka as she points out the lack of enthusiasm in his voice." There's a moment of silence before the clone speaks again, its tone laced with understanding. "Maybe the SISTERs Network requires better communication strategies than the one provided in Derrit. Says Misaka mulling over her lack of understanding with you."
Hirano found himself chuckling at the clone's statement, despite his earlier discomfort. The clone's attempt at humor, while perhaps not the most polished, was appreciated nonetheless. He found himself relaxing slightly, the tension in his body easing as the clone continued to stand there.
He kept quiet, his eyes subconsciously averting itself down towards the floor. He wasn't really sure what to say next. Its weird, seeing an artificially made human wearing the face of his friend, and he still hasn't quite come to terms with it. He's not even sure if he wants to.
The clone tilted its head once more, processing the silence. "You don't seem very talkative today. Says Misaka with a hint of curiosity, its head tilting to the other side as it studies his expression." The clone's face changes, a flicker of recognition crossing its features. "Don't worry, the Control Tower is fine. Says Misaka in an attempt to cheer him up."
He raised an eyebrow at that. "Control Tower?" Right after voicing his own question did he suddenly recall what that'd been. That's what Last Order once refer to herself as.
She nodded. "Yes. The Control Tower is fine. Repeats Misaka as she confirms her earlier statement." She then went on to pull something out of her pocket. Weird, seeing as how there's no pockets in her school uniform.
She held it out to him, her fingers unsteady for a moment as she tried to steady the item. It was a small, folded piece of paper. She stared at him, her blank face somehow expectant. "Misaka received a message for you from the blond foreign person. Says Misaka stating the origin of the paper." He took the thing and unfolded it.
His nose scrunched up at the sight of it. "For someone who looked so mature and professional, she sure does write like the typical girl, doesn't she?" He mused, staring at the flowery handwriting and the way she'd decorated the lowercase 'I' by using hearts as dots instead of, well, dots. The message was straight to the point, no wishy-washy bullshit that he'd normally expect from the likes of someone like her, but he supposed that was fitting for the context.
He was halfway reading it when he heard a quiet humm from the clone. He looked up and found her pumping her hand and smiling and all that, it was the most unnatural thing he'd ever seen. It was like watching a mannequin try to act human. The clone blinked at his disturbed look. "That person was unable to write, so Misaka wrote the message on her behalf. Misaka explains, feeling awkward at the overly positive assessment."
He'd furrowed his eyebrow further. It was understandable for Esther to write with such cutesy font, seeing as how she's still a young woman. But for an artificially made clone? That just sounds weird. The clone noticed his confused look once more. "Misaka's handwriting 'cute' meant that love letters and such would be very effective! Says Misaka with a newfound confidence based of her study on Shoujo Mangas."
He huffed. Not only were they acting a lot more similar to that of a human than some people that he knew of, but she was acting more like a girl typical of her age; controlled by hormones and what's considered trendy these days. "So," Hirano started, folding back the note and putting it back on the table. "how did you know she was fine? Last Order, i mean."
She stared at him like the answer was very much obvious right from the start. "The SISTERS Network connects all 20,000 sisters all over the world, no matter the location. Misaka explains matter-of-factly, like talking to a little boy." Her blank face somehow manages to express smugness as she continues. "The network can be accessed at any time, and Misaka can communicate with any sister instantly with just a thought. Says Misaka with pride at how advanced her telepathic connection is."
He hummed in response. "So they ended up making all of you in the end, huh? I guess that was to be expected." Suddenly, she was surprised when he tried to get off the bed, nearly stumbling onto the floor had the clone not caught him.
"What're you doing? You should be resting! Says Misaka berating him for such careless behavior." He steadied himself, ignoring the sharp pain in his side as he leaned on the table. He was tired of being cooped up in here, and seeing her made him want to move around.
The clone's blank face somehow manages to express disapproval as she watches him, her hand still on his shoulder to keep him from falling over. "Tell me," Hirano murmured with a groan, pressing his left hand on his side. "where is she?"
The clone's face flickers with uncertainty, her head tilting to one side as she processes the question. "Misaka will not say. Says Misaka with a finality in her tone."
"I'll buy some Gekotas for it."
When her eyes twitched, he knew that he'd gotten his answer. Her fingers unclenched, allowing him to fully stand as he groaned at the sudden burst of pain that shot through his side.
"Misaka isn't so cheap to be bribed with toys. Says Misaka with an angry tone, although she's considering it."
"Would you rather she die then?"
The clone's face flickered with a complex array of emotions - confusion, anger, and something akin to hurt. She stared at him for a long moment, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to find the right words. "In memory of Shinobu-san, Misaka would never let that happen. Says Misaka with a firm, determined tone."
"But you won't tell me where she is."
She was silent for a moment, not knowing how to answer.
Finally, Misaka gives in.
He doesn't like the hospital gown. Its making him feel exposed and vulnerable. His shirt was cut, his pants ruined with the colour of blood and his shoes missing.
He is now wearing a loose white hospital gown, the kind with an open back and ties on the side. He was lucky enough that the clone were willing to get him some clothes, though it took some time to find them. That being, a sandal and a pair of black pants. No shirts though, so he had to make do with the hospital gown. She did have a shirt, but it was a Gekota merchandise and she was unwilling to part with it, claiming it as her own.
He didn't even step two feet out of his own room when he was spotted by nurse stationed at the end of the hall. She immediately came over, her face set in a stern expression. "Kid, you can't just leave like this! You need to stay in bed and rest!" She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back towards his room.
He couldn't exactly fight back, not when she's just trying to do her job, nor could he also say that he was trying to save the world, as that would just sound ridiculous. So he settled on the most convincing lie he could think of: "I need to use the bathroom." He hoped she wouldn't ask for further clarification, because he wasn't sure if he could maintain that excuse for very long.
"If you need the restroom, we'll bring one to you. No wandering off! You need to rest."
She continued pulling him back to the room, so he just let her. He sighed when she sat him back on the bed, her face still set in a stern expression. "You're not going anywhere for a while, you hear me?" She then left the room, presumably to get a bedpan. He groaned when the sliding door closed.
Not 3 seconds later, the clone came back. Her blank face somehow managed to express something that somehow made him feel deeply irritated. "The nurse said you needed a bedpan. That means you pee in a bucket. Says Misaka, taunting the bedwetter by pointing at him with a finger."
He glared at her. "I'm not a bedwetter, you idiot. I just needed to get out of here for a bit." He looked around the room, spotting a window. It was small, but it might be big enough for him to squeeze through. He glanced back at the clone, who was now watching him with curiosity. "Hey, do you think you could distract the nurse for me?"
Her face flickered with uncertainty, but she didn't immediately refuse. "Misaka supposes so, but it would be unethical. Says Misaka, her hand twitching at her side, still wanting to taunt him more."
"Doing a favour for me is unethical but calling me a bedwetter isn't?"
"Hmph. Misaka does not see the logic in your statement. Says Misaka with a slight scowl, crossing her arms." He huffed, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the window. It was small, but it would have to do. "But, Misaka will do it, with the conditions that you take her for a dinner like a proper date. Says Misaka while playfully weaving her skirt." She was trying to sound flirty but coming across as creepily unnatural, like a robot attempting to be coy.
Hirano looked rather disturbed at the contrasting of her actions and words. He was expecting something else, maybe toys or money or even some more Gekota stuffs for her and her sisters. But a date? He was at a loss for words, his face frozen in shock. "A date?"
The clone's face flickered with an unnatural grin, her head tilting at an odd angle as she stared at you expectantly. "Yes, a date. Misaka thinks it would be a good idea for you to experience what it's like to go on a proper date with a girl. Says Misaka trying to imitate the body language that she learned off of a dating manga."
There's really no need to think over the offer for long. There's no other way out, and he was getting increasingly more desperate to escape. "Alright, I'll take you on a date. But don't expect much. I have no experience in this sort of thing whatsoever."
"Then Misaka will look forward to a grand time teaching you about dates, boyfriend-girlfriend relations and maybe even romantic comedy plots that involve kisses, marriage, and what it's like to fall in love for the very first time. Says Misaka listing everything that is guarenteed to happen with giddy tone."
"Sounds terrible," Hirano mutters as he stared out of the window once more, standing up and making sure not to put too much weight on his left side. "Well, it's not like I have much of a choice. Do whatever you have to do. I'll take you on a date... maybe tomorrow night?" She nodded. At that, he climbed out of the window and jumped down.
If he had a coin for every single time he'd jumped out of a hospital window, he would have two. Its not much, but its weird that it had happened twice. The impact should've been jarring, even more so when he jumped down at the fourth floor of the hospital building. If it hadn't been for his power, he would've wished for death the moment he lands on the concrete pavement.
There was no sound when he landed, no impact at all, not even a slight vibration. He was fine, as if he had just landed on a cloud instead of solid ground. Hirano looked around for an alley, spotting one across the street. Of course, just as he had been anticipating for, there were people around looking at him with surprise. Whether they thought he was an escaped mental patient or someone who couldn't pay for the medical bills, it was clear they were shocked by the sight.
It was a good thing that they just decided to look and not pull out their phone to record him. He would be so embarassed to see himself on the Internet running away from a hospital in a flimsy hospital gown. He quickly crossed the street, the sandal slapping against the pavement as he made his way to the alley. Once there, he leaned against the wall, catching his breath.
With the combination of his power and the painkiller that he was given, all he felt was a slight itch and pulling threads. It was a strange feeling, like his body was completely numb. He looked down at his side, where he was nearly cut in half. The bandage was still intact, but he could see the blood seeping through, staining the white fabric a light crimson.
"Fuck..." It's beginning to bleed again. Maybe running away from the hospital wasn't the best idea. He was still in a lot of pain, even if he couldn't feel it. And he still had to make his way all over to the 14th District. Over 35 kilometres in a hospital gown and a sandal. Great.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a plan. He couldn't exactly walk around like this, he would get arrested for public indecency. And he definitely couldn't go back to the hospital now, not when he just escaped. He was running out of options.
The only real option here is to basically fly. Which, again, he doesn't exactly like. He was half naked underneath the gown, and the thought of being in the air like that made him shudder. Unless of course, flying high enough that people would think that he was a bird, negating air resistance to make sure the gown doesn't fly up, and using the barrier to keep himself from feeling the cold air.
That wasn't the only reason why he doesn't like flying. Especially in Academy City. Not only is the Satellite hanging over the city always watching, but also updating the road camera feeds every few seconds. Plus, the ground and air surveillance cameras were a constant worry.
And accounting in what the clone had informed him. There would be an ongoing fight between DA and Anti-Skill personals there at the factory. Which means, even more attention will be on that particular district. Going supersonic speed, i.e, over 5 mach, would cause an immediate response.
Mach 1 will have to do. So 35 kilometres at mach 1 would take approximately 102 seconds. 1 minute, 42 seconds. Oh boy, he's gonna appear in the satellite pictures as a human shaped blur again.
"Uno,"
Kuroko whimpered, eyeing a certain blond girl with a furrowed brow. The pillow wrapped around her legs rustled and shrunk further down as she tightens her grip, her small body quivering as she awaited the next call. "I'm telling you, Onee-sama, Misaki's cheating!" The twin tailed girl yelled, setting down the cards on her hand.
Colourful cards with numbers scatters on Kuroko's side, who was now sighing into the pillow at which she starts biting the edge of. The blonde girl, Misaki, stared at her with an amused smirk as she casually played a card. "Oh? Is that so? I don't think that I have any cards left in my hand. Haha, what a pity! I guess you'll have to forfeit, Kuroko-chan~" Misaki's grin grew wider as she watched Kuroko's face contort in disbelief.
The twin-tailed girl's grip on the pillow loosened slightly, her eyes moving towards the other occupant within the room. Misaka Mikoto still had two cards on her hand, and she looked at the blond with a raised eyebrow. "I can tell when you're trying to read her mind, you know," Misaka said bluntly, setting down her two cards. She glanced at Misaki with an unimpressed expression.
"Heh," Misaki chuckled, her smile faltering for a moment before she quickly recovered. "Oh, I wasn't trying to do anything of the sort! I just happen to be very good at this game, that's all." She spread her arms wide, feigning innocence, but her eyes darted briefly to the cards on the carpeted floor, betraying her true intentions.
Kuroko's grip on the pillow tightened once more as she glared at Misaki, her small frame quivering with barely contained rage. "I don't believe you! You're using your powers to cheat, aren't you? I can tell by the way you keep glancing at me."
"Like that would even be possible," Misaki scoffed, her smile never wavering. "I'm just that good, Kuroko-chan. You should learn to accept defeat gracefully." She reached for the pile of cards, her hand hovering just above them as she awaited Kuroko's next move.
Misaka rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair. "You two are really going at it, aren't you?" Misaka said, her face set in a bored expression. "I mean, it's just a card game. Why are you both so worked up about it?"
"She's just being annoying," Kuroko whined, her twin tails swaying as she fidgeted with the pillow. "Misaki always has to win at everything. It's not fair!"
Misaki's grin only widened at Kuroko's outburst, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on the girl. "Oh, Kuroko-chan, you're really acting like a child right now." She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she fixed Kuroko with an intense stare. "What happened to your usually cool and composed demeanor? Is this what you're like when you lose?" Her words were laced with amusement and mockery, and she couldn't help but smile at the flustered reaction she was getting from Kuroko.
Misaka, for her part, continued to observe the scene with growing annoyance. "Can you two please just finish this game already? Unlike you two, I actually have some sleep to get to." She yawned, stretching her arms above her head as she settled back into her chair.
Kuroko's face contorted in frustration, her grip on the pillow tightening even further. "I-I'm not being childish! You're the one who's being mean!" She sniffled, her lower lip quivering slightly as she fought back tears. "I just wanted to have a fun game, but you always have to make everything a competition!"
"Oh, Kuroko-chan, don't be like that. I was just trying to have some fun too." She reached out, attempting to pat Kuroko's head, but the younger girl flinched away, her twin tails swaying behind her.
"Friendly my foot!"
"Seriously though," Misaka interjects into the conversation, a small tug on her lips turning her face into a slight smirk. "You're really acting like a child, Kuroko." Misaka's words were laced with amusement and a touch of exasperation. "You've been like that for... I don't know. Weeks now?"
"Right!" Misaki agreed, her smile growing even wider as she turned to face Misaka. "I mean, look at her. She's practically having a tantrum over a card game." She gestured towards Kuroko, who was now hugging the pillow tightly to her chest, her face red with embarrassment and irritation. "Its like she's devolving from the girl she once was, don't you think?" Misaki's eyes sparkled with amusement.
Misaka rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing on her face. "You're not helping, Misaki. You're just making it worse." She turned to Kuroko, her face softening slightly. "Look, Kuroko. I don't usually snoop into other people's business, but really, you're really piquing my curiousity over here."
Even Misaki wanted to know what's going on with their twin tailed friend. The girl in question backs away, keeping the pillow close to her chest as if it'd protect her from everything and everyone. There was a flush on her face, the same shade that is her hair. "Tell us or I'll probe into your head and make you spill it myself." Misaki warned with a playful glint in her eye, her hand hovering just above Kuroko's forehead.
Kuroko's eyes widened in panic, her small body quivering as she clutched the pillow even tighter. "I-I don't know! It just sorta happened, okay? It just... it just happened!" She stammered, her face now a bright shade of red.
Misaki, her finger still pressing against the girl's forehead pouted while slowly inching away from her. "That's just boring." Misaki turned to look at Misaka on her back. "Anticlimactic as it is, she's actually telling the truth." Both older girls sighed at the underwhelming response. "That sucks. I was hoping for something juicy," Misaki's face fell, her hand dropping to her side.
It was quiet now, and a bit awkward, the game having devolved into an intense debate. The card game on the floor seemed almost forgotten, a symbol of what started this confrontation in the first place. Misaki fiddled with her own cards, her smirk still firmly in place despite her disappointment in not getting to poke further.
"By the way," Misaka started, gathering the cards bit by bit, "Talk about something weird, you guys noticed about how Hirano sounded weird earlier?" Misaki's face lit up with interest, her earlier disappointment seemingly forgotten.
"Oh? You noticed too? I thought I was the only one." She leaned forward, her attention now fully on Misaka. "From the sound of it, he was in a hurry. Maybe he's got a secret or something." Her grin widened as she spoke, clearly enjoying the prospect of uncovering a mystery. "We should totally investigate this!"
Kuroko, still clutching her pillow, looked between the two older girls. "You don't think it's something serious, do you?" Her voice was small, her usual confidence shaken by flashes of old memories. She shifted uncomfortably just by thinking about it.
"Serious?" Misaki scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Come on, Kuroko. Hirano's just... Hirano. I'm sure he's just got some random, Hirano-ish thing going on. Probably forgot to do his chores or something." She laughed.
Misaka nodded in agreement, but there was a glint of suspicion in her eyes. "I mean, it's definitely something, but we don't need to blow it out of proportion. You can't always assume the worst, Kuroko." She reached over and patted the younger girl's head, which caused Kuroko to flinch and back away. "Relax, it's probably nothing."
It was a lot worse than what he had originally imagined things would get.
Serious as the situation was, it was hard to take things seriously. He was still in a hospital gown, after all, and the whole situation was so ridiculous. Both sides, DA and Anti-Skills, were taken down by a bunch of kids. 4 of them to be exact, appearing not that young compared to him.
One of them had this ability to transform a bunch of papers into various things; one which is currently seen as a large bunny suit. It was powerful. Very. But vectors would always disregard the power of such abilities, as pretty much everything that moves has a vector. Rendering physical, and thus, tangible, properties of the ability useless in the face of vectors.
Her paper was flexible as cloth. But its strength is similar to that of a hardened alloy. She has absolute control over these papers. She was no slack when it comes to her ability. She could easily create a fortress out of it, or a shield that could block a bullet. But the thing is, vectors are vectors. They don't care about the material. They don't care about strength. They don't care about durability. They only care about the direction and the magnitude of the force. Something which he too has absolute control over.
So to see someone who could very easily send one of their combatants away out of the blue, ruining their momentum of complete massacre of the DA members, it was quite the shock for both of them. Shocked when an uninvited guest interrupted their little battle. And he was shocked to see the complete lack of concern from the kids. They were clearly not afraid, and they seemed to be enjoying the fight.
He caressed his side a little, feeling rather awkward with what he had on currently. The pants the clone gave him felt weird around the wound, pressing perhaps a tad bit too tight, which could be the reason why the hospital gave him this gown instead of the usual shirt and pants.
This clothes was also the subject of attention from one of those kids. The one with the red hair and a mask, he could feel his (her?) eyes on him. There was a lot of curiosity in their eyes, as if they were trying to figure out who he was, how he threw one of their mates away, and why he was in a hospital gown. But, instead of asking, the person the others refer to as 'leader' stepped up.
"Your expressions spoke of weariness and tiredness, but your eyes still burn with a fierce intensity, with a mouth all pressed and grim, as if you were still fighting the demons within. What's your story, stranger? How did you end up here, I don't care. But damn that looks so cool!" She was smirking behind that mask of hers, Hirano could see it from the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. She was clearly enjoying this, the whole situation, and him.
"How about you join us in our mission in exterminating all the teachers!" The girl suddenly exclaimed, her smile growing wider. She wasn't taking this seriously; all of the killings. The way she worded it, 'exterminate', made it sound like they were just playing a game. "What'd ya say? It'll be fun!" She was glowing, her face alight with enthusiasm.
The other kids weren't as enthusiastic as the red head. More so, they looked embarrassed at the girl's enthusiasm, which they tried to hide. But, it was quite clear from the way they fidgeted, or the way they tried to distance themselves from the leader, that they didn't like this act of hers.
The girl didn't seem to care though. She just stood there, hands spread in an inviting manner all the while smiling, as if waiting for his answer. She seemed to have confidence that he would join, despite not knowing who he was.
"They're just kids," he would've liked to say, but he was not unaware of the things around him. These kids were dangerous, he could feel it. They had already killed dozens of DA members, and we're definitely going to kill the remaining few he had just saved.
He turned towards Esther. Kneeling with her Houtou leaning against her, all bloodied and stuff. Tsuzuri wasn't faring any better than the wounded two. The Anti-Skill was unconscious. There was a visible crack on her armour. These two, Esther and Tsuzuri, had just brushed with death. And the Houtou, Hasami, was close to dying the second time.
"Hey! You're ignoring me." The red-haired girl's voice cut through the air, her playful words now turned annoyed. "Say something bastard!" She yelled out loud, the bag on her back swinging back and forth as she raised both her hands over her head in an exasperated manner.
Hirano looked over towards the brat. Her agitated form causes little to no reaction from him. He stared at her blankly, his mind entirely preoccupied with the worst of possibilities. Last Order was nowhere to be seen, and the coat on the ground made his heart clench with dread. He was torn between running to find her and dealing with the dangerous situation in front of him.
The more he thinks about her, the more his side hurts. His fingers clench the edge of his hospital gown as he stands still, torn between action and inaction. Had the painkiller already worn off, or was it the dread of what might have happened to Last Order that was making his side throb so much?
"Hirano-san...?" He heard Esther's voice come out of the chaos, sounding strained and weak. Her words reached him, faint and distant, as if through a thick fog. He looked back at her, his expression grim and distant.
She looked like a mess herself. Her face, especially. There were tears there, mostly wet but are beginning to dry. She'd cried earlier when he first arrived. Even screaming, begging for something that he hadn't quite caught. She must've been here the entire time. She has to know something.
"Where is she... Last Order...?" The words left his mouth, rough and gravelly, as he stared at Esther with an intensity that made her flinch. Her face contorted in distress, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze, and her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her tattered uniform.
"She was here earlier..." Her words faltered, trailing off into a murmur. "I think... I think the DA has her." His jaw clenched, every muscle tensed, and a low growl rumbled in his chest as he processed Esther's words. The DA, the organization that had caused this entire mess, now had Last Order in their clutches.
The red-haired girl noticed the shift in his demeanor, and she was even more enamored. "Ooh, you're getting all serious now! I like it!" She clapped her hands together, her face alight with excitement. "You're so cool, you know that? I bet you're gonna skin those teachers alive and all that good stuff! I can feel it in my bones!"
She stepped closer, her bag swinging wildly as she moved. "You should totally join us! We could use someone like you on our team!" Hirano's face turned to stone at the girl's words, his body rigid with rage as he processed them. The DA had the Last Order. And all these girls were playing around, treating this like some kind of game. But he could see their use.
They can help him with something.
"Do you still have a picture of her on you?" He asked Esther, her face pale and drawn. She nodded slowly, reaching into her pocket with a shaky hand. He took it and turned towards the red haired girl, holding out the picture for her to see. "Find her. I don't care what you do, but find her." His words were cold and hard, brooking no argument.
The red haired girl's face darkened as she walked over and took the picture. She doesn't look any bit less enthusiastic, but now there's a new intensity to her smile, a sharp, predatory glint in her eyes. "Oh, I'll find her for you, don't you worry! We'll tear this whole damn city apart if we have to!" She cackled, the sound echoing eerily in the blood-soaked factory.
"But, under one condition!" She grins under the mask, her face twisted into a wicked smile. "You join us. We'll find you the girl, and you'll help us take down the DA and be our newest member. What do you say, stranger? Are you in?"
I think I could've done better than this. The quality doesn't quite meet my standard, especially that last part. I could've done more, maybe. But the 8.5k words should be enough for this week, otherwise I won't have anything to write for next week.
Anyways, new chapter next week!