Heaven Canceller's Hospital
KamijouTouma slowly opened his eyes.
The white hospital ceiling looked more hostile than any enemy he had ever faced.
His right leg was in a cast up to his thigh, suspended by straps that felt to him like a futile attempt to restrain his movements.
A pale blue sheet covered his thin frame but could not hide the discomfort rising in his chest.
He tried to turn over, but the slightest movement sent a sharp pang of pain through his body.
His mouth twisted in silence as he stifled a groan.
He glanced to the side and saw ShiraiKuroko slumped in a chair beside the bed, her head resting on her folded arms.
Her brown hair, tied into two small buns, swayed gently with her calm breathing.
Touma blinked, then reached for his pocket—and his heart froze. Nothing. None of the makeshift knives he always carried were there: neither the wooden-handled blade nor the kitchen knife. "…Shit…" he whispered before he even realized it.
With trembling arms, he began to haul himself out of bed. His cast leg swung, and he let out a soft sigh of pain.
"Where do you think you're going, KamijouTouma?" said a sleepy voice, sharp as a scalpel.
He froze.
Kuroko raised her head, still half asleep but already shining with the same uncomfortable authority she used on criminals and delinquentes or, apparently, on injured, stubborn little boys. "You can't walk, you idiot—your leg's broken. Get back in bed!"
Touma hesitated, restless. "Where's Uiharu? And… Saten?" he asked in a low, rough voice.
Kuroko sighed and stretched. "They're in another room. Don't worry—Uiharu's fine, and Saten too. They've got a few cuts, nothing serious. Uiharu's cut was deep, but it didn't hit anything vital."
She glared at him. "Unlike you, who decided to play hero with a broken leg."
Touma said nothing and kept trying to get down.
Kuroko huffed, then in the blink of an eye teleported beside him and pressed a firm hand to his shoulder. "KamijouTouma," she commanded, "get back in bed."
"I don't like hospitals," he muttered.
"That's no excuse to run away every time you wake up."
"I always end up in them… it's tiring," he whispered. Kuroko swallowed hard, then let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling as if its cold white light were mocking her attempts to help him.
"You're only seven years old," she said more softly. "Seven, that's not normal."
Touma didn't answer. He stared at the floor, as if the gap between his feet and the ground were more important than anything she said. Kuroko sighed again and sat on the edge of the bed.
"While you and Uiharu were fighting that esper who controls fabrics, Misaka, Shokuhou, and I were attacked too. That idiot didn't know two of them are Level5, it was over before he knew what hit him."
She gave him a serious look. "Now that that's done, you'd better get used to us. We're going to keep an eye on you so you don't get into trouble."
Touma blinked. "Does that mean…"
"I've looked at your records, kid," Kuroko said, pointing at his chest. "You're going to school, and you're going to stop skipping your classes."
His face twisted as if bitten by a lemon.
"No!"
"You need an education, Touma‑kun, reading, math, socializing with other kids. You can't live like a wild animal on the streets forever."
"I hate school! There are too many people! And… it's noisy!"
Kuroko's forehead creased.
she could feel a headache coming on. "You need to learn. You can't stay a lone wolf forever." She tried to soften her tone. "We just want to help you."
Touma turned away, pouty, folding his thin arms. "I won't go."
Kuroko studied him for a moment, then gave a sideways smile, a mischievous spark in her eyes.
"Ah… I see," she said casually. "Well, I'll have to tell Uiharu, she'll be so sad…"
Instantly, Touma's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "N-no! Don't tell her!"
Kuroko hid her triumphant smile. "Oh? So now you want to go to school?"
Touma hesitated, huffed, and muttered, "…Once a week…"
"Huh?"
"Once a week, okay?!" the little boy snapped.
Kuroko chuckled softly. "Fine, stubborn Wolf, this is just the beginning."
He made a face.
The door creaked open, revealing an almost comical procession.
SatenRuiko balancing a fruit basket larger than her head, UiharuKazari clutching a last-minute-sale bouquet, and MisakaMikoto carrying… nothing.
KamijouTouma, lying with his leg in a cast, watched them enter with alert eyes.
He was more awake than before, but his hair still looked like a tangle of unruly spikes. Kuroko remained at his side.
"Hi, Touma and Shirai!" said Saten with a smile, setting the basket on the bedside table. "We brought gifts, fruit, flowers, and… well, Misaka‑san's presence, which is a gift in itself."
"Don't include me in this nonsense," Mikoto retorted as she approached the bed and crossed her arms. "I only came to see if he's still alive."
"Tsk… how kind," Touma muttered. The other two were hospitalized, probably Misaka brought the fruit and flowers.
His eyes flicked to Uiharu's arm, wrapped in white bandages and mottled with purple bruises. "…Sorry," he said quietly. "It's my fault he stabbed your arm."
Uiharu blinked in surprise. "Huh? Touma‑kun, don't say that…"
"I should have protected you. I should be stronger. If I were faster, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."
She shook her head and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. "I only stayed because I saw you protecting Saten. I… I was going to run away for real. But you were there, standing with that injured leg and… and with those ridiculous knives… I couldn't leave after that.
"Hey!" Touma protested. "The knives aren't ridiculous—they're… practical."
"I think by 'practical' you mean 'terrible.' They were kitchen knives…" Mikoto murmured, rolling her eyes.
Saten leaned in, curious. "About yesterday, Uiharu—you were using a power. What was that?
"Ah… yes," Uiharu blushed slightly. "It's new. I evolved recently and can now heat objects with my hands."
"Not just with your hands," Touma said, frowning. "I saw your whole arm heat up that guy's pipe. It glowed red-hot."
Uiharu froze. "That… happened? …Yes, in the alley."
Kuroko frowned, intrigued. "Hm. The ability might still be unstable. We need to monitor it, Uiharu. It's dangerous, you could seriously hurt yourself."
"Yes, yes…" Uiharu said, trying to reassure Shirai.
"But speaking of abilities…" Misaka said with a suspicious smile. "Touma, why exactly do you carry knives?"
He hesitated, embarrassed. "My punches are too weak, they don't affect anyone. I need something to compensate."
The room fell silent for a moment. Kuroko immediately slipped into big‑sister mode. "This ends now! KamijouTouma, you can't risk your life like this. Carrying those knives means you're looking for fights. You're a child, for God's sake!"
"It's not like he'll listen, right?" Mikoto murmured. "He's beaten some thugs before we even met him. He's got more hospital records than some adult delinquents."
"I just wander the city," Touma said with a shrug. "These things happen. If I see someone who can't defend themselves… I defend them."
Misaka stepped closer and poked his forehead with her finger. "Aw, junior hero, how cute. Planning to save the world with your super‑weak punches and kitchen knives?"
In a purely childish reaction, Touma bit her finger. "Ouch! You gremlin!"
"That was for calling me cute."
"But you are cute!" Misaka teased, shaking her bitten hand. "A little wild warrior who can't even tie his own shoes."
Saten, who'd been laughing until then, asked seriously, "But… where will Touma live now?"
Silence fell like a stone. "Good question…" said Uiharu, looking at Kuroko. "His dorm…"
"Was partially blown up," Misaka interjected, crossing her arms with a sigh. "Okay, maybe I went a bit overboard."
"Onee-sama, you fired a railgun shot," Kuroko reminded her.
"Hey, it was necessary!" Misaka defended.
Touma offered his own opinion, casually: "I can live on the streets. I manage fine."
"Out of the question!" chorused Kuroko, Misaka, and Uiharu.
"You already look like a stray cat, that doesn't help," Saten observed.
"Any other ideas?" Uiharu asked.
Touma thought for a second. "I know Misaki…"
All the girls froze. "No," said Kuroko.
"Not a chance," added Mikoto.
"Well, it doesn't matter," Kuroko decided. "We'll find a solution, but you're not living on the street."
Misaka crossed her arms, thoughtful. At least the dangerous part was over. A few minutes later, Touma began to drift off to sleep.
And the door opened.
"Excuse me," said Heaven Canceller in a tired, serious voice.
The girls immediately fell silent. The doctor entered holding a brown folder, his expression closed off.
"First, thank you for keeping the noise down, he needs to rest. Second… you were almost declared enemies of the city."
"What?!" the four exclaimed in unison.
"Especially you, Uiharu Kazari," he said, looking directly at her.
Uiharu's eyes went wide in shock. "I—I only wanted to help…"
"You did help. But technically, you broke many safety protocols, disobeyed orders, acted on your own… and yet you managed what many couldn't, you saved this boy."
He sighed. "So consider yourselves lucky."
He then handed the folder to Misaka Mikoto. "This is everything we know about Kamijou Touma: his medical history, incident reports, behavioral records… everything. At least, everything since he arrived in the city."
Misaka took the folder hesitantly, as if it were burning in her hands. She opened it, scanned a few pages, then immediately closed it and pushed it toward Kuroko. "…What do you think?"
Kuroko frowned as she leafed through the documents. "I expected the worst, but… this is worse than the worst. Statistically speaking, the kid gets into at least four street fights a week, and that's only what's been recorded.
"He doesn't have an easy life," said Heaven Canceller, his eyes sad. "And unfortunately, it won't get any easier anytime soon."
"Oh, right, almost forgot." The doctor turned to the girl with the flowers in her hair. "Congratulations: you've officially ascended to Level2. Your power can now heat objects throughout your entire body."
Saten immediately grabbed Uiharu by the shoulders. "I KNEW IT! You're amazing!"
Uiharu flushed red as a tomato. Kuroko leaned back in her chair. "And now? What do we do with Touma? He's free, but the dormitory was destroyed. Where will he live?"
Heaven Canceller took a deep breath. "Two options. One is to leave him with Motoharu Tsuchimikado he already handles complicated cases like this. The other is for you to take care of him yourselves. I can get the papers that allow you to bend the dorm rules. It won't be easy, but it's possible."
"Did anyone else try to take him in?" Saten asked, curious.
"Yes, two people, but they were turned away. First was Shokuhou Misaki."
"Thank goodness she got blocked!" Kuroko exclaimed, clenching her fists. "That lunatic declared she's going to marry him!"
"The other was Awaki Musujime."
"Denied," Misaka replied without hesitation, crossing her arms.
"Looks like we'll have to take turns looking after him… It'll be tough, but I'm sure we can handle it responsibly," murmured Saten.
A strange silence fell.
until they noticed the empty bed.
"Uh… where is he?!" Misaka stood up.
Heaven Canceller didn't even look up from his clipboard. "He left in the middle of the conversation."
"That stubborn brat!" Kuroko teleported in a flash and, seconds later, burst through the door carrying Touma in her arms, he thrashed like an angry cat. "Let me go! I was just checking if there was a snack machine in the hallway!"
"Go rest, wild child," Misaka grunted. "You're worse than a stray cat."
"you're a lost cause," sighed Kuroko as she laid him back on the bed.
Saten scratched her head. "This is going to be more complicated than I thought…"
Uiharu just stared at the strange boy, half wild, half hero—and whispered to herself, "But… he's worth it."
Hours later, the four emerged from the hospital's main entrance, exhausted.
"Shirai," Uiharu began firmly, "could you help me train?"
Kuroko raised an eyebrow. "Train? No."
"But now I can fight. I want to help more, I want to be ready!"
Misaka crossed her arms beside her. "Uiharu, you have no combat experience, and your body isn't exactly built for this. You're great with tech and support, but real fighting… is dangerous."
"I can learn!" insisted Uiharu. "I know I can!"
Kuroko sighed wearily. "We already have one idiot who shouldn't be fighting but does anyway. We don't need another."
Those words echoed in Uiharu's mind. Touma fought even with a frail body, he used knives because punches didn't work. So she didn't have to rely on her body alone. She needed a weapon, but not knives; she hated holding them.
Lost in thought, she walked as if she'd forgotten the world around her.
"At least," said Kuroko, looking around, "the city isn't trying to kill us."
"For now!" a voice shouted behind them.
A backpack flew through the air and hit Kuroko in the back, sending her crashing to the ground with a painful "oof."
"WHAT?!" Misaka spun around, sparks dancing at her fingertips.
Tsuchimikado appeared, smiling behind his dark glasses. "Relax, onee-samas. The backpack has clothes for our junior hero, but you'll need to buy more. Almost everything he had is in pieces."
Kuroko got up, grinding her teeth. "You… you're the guy who told me to stay away from Touma."
"And I still think you should've listened," Tsuchimikado shrugged. "But now it's too late."
He turned to leave but left one last message: "Touma is a pain in the neck, wild, traumatized, but still just a little boy learning about life. What happens to him now… is your responsibility, for better or worse."
At that moment, a soda can fell from the sky and hit Tsuchimikado on the head. "OW!"
Everyone looked up. Touma was at the hospital window, staring down at them with a sulky expression. "Stop deciding my life down there!"
"Nice throw," Saten complimented, impressed.
"That kid's still gonna pay me back…" Tsuchimikado muttered, rubbing his head.
Misaka laughed out loud, finally relaxing. "Wow… his aim really is good."
"That brat…" Kuroko said before disappearing in a teleport.
Seconds later, Touma's and Kuroko's voices exploded from the open window:
"I JUST WANTED TO LOOK AT THE SKY, OKAY?!"
"YOUR LEG IS BROKEN!"
"…This is our life now, isn't it?" Saten said, hands in her pockets.
"Seems like it," Misaka replied, smiling confidently at the future.
Uiharu just kept thinking, about weapons, about fights, about Touma.
Café no School District 7
"Alright," Kuroko said, flipping through some printed papers.
"According to the hospital records, this little monster is enrolled in a school, but he never goes to class, so we need to convince him to attend."
"That kid is a walking headache," Misaka Mikoto sighed, stirring her coffee listlessly with her spoon. "I don't know whether to feel sorry for him or give him an electric shock."
Saten raised her hand like a diligent student. "I can host him first! My bed is big and I sleep on a futon, no problem."
"I can too!" Uiharu said, unusually enthusiastic. "We can make a schedule, he stays with me after Saten's turn."
"It'd be every little boy's dream to stay at Uiharu's house," Misaka teased with a mischievous grin.
"Say that again. Go on, say it again."
Misaka leaped out of her chair with a scream, nearly knocking over her milkshake. "HOW DID YOU GET HERE?! WEREN'T YOU IN THE HOSPITAL?!"
"Escaping is easier when you know the nurses' patrol patterns," Touma said proudly
"THAT'S NO REASON TO BE PROUD, BRAT!" Kuroko yelled, banging her head on the table.
Kuroko couldn't take it any longer and snatched Touma onto her lap as though he were a sack of rice with legs. "Enough. You're staying right here, you walking pest—you're not running away again.
"Was that a challenge?"
"NO! It's a physical and moral imposition!"
The conversation then inevitably turned to school
"Kuroko, you said he doesn't go to school, right?" Saten asked.
"Yes. So whoever hosts him first will have to convince this little monster to attend classes."
"I already said," Touma murmured, still trapped in Kuroko's arms. "School is a waste of time. I've already learned what I need."
"You're seven years old!" Misaka shouted.
Uiharu, silent until now, finally looked at him and asked, "Touma… why did you choose knives? Why not another weapon?"
Kuroko's eyes went wide. "This isn't kid talk!"
Touma answered seriously, "I chose knives because they're easy to hide and I'm good at moving with them. But when I gave one to you…"
He paused, glancing shyly at Uiharu. "…because if you became my enemy, Uiharu, and used a knife with your ability… the handle would melt in your hand before the blade got hot. I've already calculated that."
Silence fell like a bomb.
"What…" Misaka muttered.
"IS THAT NORMAL FOR YOU?!" Saten shouted, nearly toppling her drink.
"You thought about that… while giving her a knife…?" Saten asked.
Touma nodded. "If Uiharu became an enemy, she'd be at a disadvantage."
Silence.
"THAT'S HORRIFICALLY CALCULATING FOR A LITTLE KID!" Misaka yelled.
"And that scares me even more," Kuroko whispered.
"He thought about how to beat Uiharu if she turned on him?!" Kuroko asked, pale.
"You should use brass knuckles or a crowbar—something without a grip so it doesn't melt. I'd suggest chains, but those are tricky for beginners," the little boy said like a pro.
"He doesn't mess around…" Uiharu whispered, staring at her hands.
"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP TEACHING UIHARU HOW TO FIGHT, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" Misaka screamed.
"Well… let's change the subject!" Saten clapped her hands. "Let's talk about… fashion! Touma, do you have a favorite item?"
"An eyepatch."
"...What do you mean?" Misaka asked.
"I think it looks cool."
"Can you behave like a normal child?!" she exploded.
Touma tried to wriggle out of Kuroko's grip, but she was too strong.
Things were only going to get more complicated from here on out.