Chapter 3_ Light Hidden in the Wreckage

CHAPTER 3 Light Hidden in the Wreckage “Remnant” 1 Tokiwadai Middle School had two student dormitories: one within the Garden of Learning and the other without. Kuroko Shirai and Mikoto Misaka roomed together in the one outside it. “Kah…hah…?!” Shirai had managed to drag herself to the dorm’s back door, then very nearly coughed up a chunk of blood. Forcing down its aftertaste in her throat, she kept pushing ahead. She needed to do some first aid on herself as soon as she could, but her body wasn’t moving the way she wanted it to. Given the pain she was in, she couldn’t rely on teleportation, either, since its strength was volatile. Her right shoulder, left side, right thigh, and right calf. Those were the points stabbed by the sharp metal that had torn through her clothes’ fabric, which was now forcibly thrusting into her wounds. With every step, she felt a strange stiffening feeling with her clothes and her skin, lending an odd sense to her pain. Her flimsy bag felt like a barbell. That drove home how much stamina she’d lost. A cold tremble settled into her stomach. Having made it to the back of the dorm, Shirai looked at the line of windows and saw the lights in hers were off. Thank goodness…Big Sister hasn’t…come back…yet…She smiled very thinly and concentrated her energy at her core. There was no way she was walking in the front in tatters like this. Mustering a shredded formula out of her pain, shivering, and panic, she teleported directly into her own room. For a moment, her body was weightless. The sensation of crossing space felt closer to being thrown than gravity going away. It was like a roller coaster. A heavy tension gradually rose from her stomach. “…Gah…” Now safely on the floor of her dark room, she wandered to and fro unsteadily, not turning on a light, gathering her first-aid kit and a clean uniform. She cut down on the amount of work she had to do by a little bit by deciding to use the underwear she’d bought earlier that day. After unhooking the clasp on her bag, she took out the package from the lingerie shop. With that in hand, Shirai opened the door to the bathroom and entered. There were no windows in there, so it was pitch-black. After closing the door, she fumbled for the light switch and flipped it. With a click, the white fluorescent lights filled the small bathroom. “Ah…guh…” The strength left her hands, and everything she’d carried in clattered to the hard floor. She tried to prop herself up on the wall, the dart piercing her side scraping it in the process. Body shivering as if it had been shocked with electricity, she lost her balance and collapsed to the floor, causing all sorts of other kinds of pain to tear through her. Aug…ust…twenty…first… She couldn’t think straight with the pain. Still, as she sat on the floor, she tried. Had anything been odd on August 21st, like that woman said? If I recall correctly…Big Sister didn’t get home until pretty late…That was the day that gentleman suddenly showed up at the student dorm…Having gotten ahold of one thing, she began dredging up the rest of the information. The gentleman was gone in a flash…Oh, that’s right. The teddy bear under Big Sister’s bed got dragged out, and then there was a strange windstorm blowing through the streets. I heard a train switchyard on the outskirts of Academy City had some sort of explosion, and people saw really bright lights… Finally, she remembered the rumors going around about that day. She looked up despite herself. Unconfirmed information that Academy City’s strongest Level Five got taken down by someone…Ugh. She’d heard the stories had been immediately covered up by the Academy City General Board to prevent useless disorder and unrest. Because of that, Shirai didn’t know who exactly it was who had beaten the strongest Level Five in the city. A giant explosion, flashing lights, and an M7-class windstorm. The switchyard thought to be where it happened looked like a bomb went off. Reconstruction work was being spearheaded by Anti-Skill, but Shirai had assisted them as a member of Judgment, too. At the time, everyone was saying the same thing. The ravages of this destruction were not ordinary. The Level Five who caused all of it was definitely the strongest in Academy City. But… How strong must the one who calmly stood up to a Level Five during such a catastrophic disaster be? And not only that…Shirai had gotten wind of another bit of news on her own. It’s possible that Big Sister was present at the scene of the battle between the two espers. She’d seen it. She’d seen all the switchyard’s cargo containers destroyed, their contents strewn about. Many things of all kinds, shapes, and sizes were everywhere. Nobody would have stopped to think about a single coin on the ground—but Shirai did. As soon as she picked it up, she knew. It was the kind of cheap coin people used at arcades. It was also the kind of coin a certain girl favored as bullets for her Railgun. The intense pain interrupted her thoughts. It would certainly appear August 21st had been no ordinary day. But how much did that have to do with all this? She couldn’t tell. She came to the decision that treating her wounds came first. She lightly touched the corkscrew in her right shoulder—the first attack she’d taken—with a finger. The sharp, thick, spiraling piece of metal would probably tear her muscles further if she tried to pull it out normally. Fortunately for her… “My goodness…This ability sure is good to have at times like these.” She teleported it. The corkscrew in her shoulder vanished and reappeared in front of her. With nothing left to support it, it fell straight to the floor and made a clear ring. Blood came from her shoulder. She’d uncorked her shoulder, letting the blood flow out. She hadn’t taken the metal darts and such out of her wounds yet because she hadn’t been prepared to immediately stop the bleeding until now. She groaned as her world swayed, then shook her head to force it back into focus. Looking at the bloody corkscrew on the floor, she clicked her tongue. A majolica porcelain grip on a Sheffield opener…No thought to where it was produced, its history, any traditions, any ideals—a stateless corkscrew. What an upstart I ran into. As she began teleporting the metal darts in her sides and legs in the same manner, she took out her cell phone with her empty hand and punched in Kazari Uiharu’s number. “Hello, this is Uiharu. Shirai, I looked into what you asked about…Whoa, um, you seem to be breathing in a lot of pain.” She’d actually given Uiharu a quick call before getting back to the dorm, explaining what had happened—how she’d lost and how the luggage was stolen again—then requested that she investigate the Tree Diagram, look into the identity of the teleport-type esper, and try and plot out a few possible escape routes she would have taken, though it would have been hard given the woman’s ability. She’d also told her to keep the fact that she was wounded on the down low. She knew that not doing so might have provoked a different obstruction for her. Anti-Skill, led by faculty, went on the more important missions, not the student-led Judgment. It was for two reasons: one, because they couldn’t expose children to danger, and two, because they couldn’t give children such overwhelming power over others. With these major wounds, Academy City would have restricted her from doing anything else. But that teleport user had spoken of things that raised a lot of questions about Mikoto Misaka, Tokiwadai’s ace, and things of that nature. She didn’t feel like turning in so easily. “Are you really okay? Gung-ho women aren’t in style right now, you know.” “Nobody…asked you. Did you find anything?” Discarding the bloody darts on the floor, Shirai worked her tattered body and reached for her clothing. She removed her summer sweater, short-sleeve blouse, and skirt hooks, then groaned. The red had even gotten to her underwear, she realized, then took all that off and threw it on the floor, too. She hadn’t taken off her leather shoes upon coming in, either, so she removed them, too, then her socks, then the leather, metal dart–holding belts around her thighs as well. Now stripped of all her clothes, she checked her wounds in more detail. “About the teleport esper—the data banks say there’re fifty-eight of them in Academy City, including you. Sure aren’t many people who can work through special eleven-dimensional calculations, huh?” “Anyone who…matched…my information?” She pulled a first-aid kit over to her with a bloody hand. “There are nineteen espers who can move multiple objects at one time, again with you being one of them. And,” continued Uiharu, “there were about three people who matched the description of the culprit you gave me. But only one of them doesn’t have an alibi. The other two were spotted on cameras.” Without seeming to be in too much of a hurry, Uiharu gave her conclusion. “Awaki Musujime, a second-year at Kirigaoka Girls’ Academy. She uses a teleport-type ability like you, but it works a little differently.” “As…I found out…I mean, she took…ten men at once…and made them block for her! They must have weighed…around seven hundred kilograms in all. It’s…way above…my power.” She didn’t deny her own weakness—as long as she believed there was a way out of this. She flipped open the first-aid kit lid and took out a tube-shaped object. Closing the lid, she squeezed the tube, forcing gel onto her wounds. This was an emergency external-wound treatment kit with three effects: disinfecting the wound, stopping the bleeding, and preventing it from opening. Apparently some amazing medical scientist nicknamed Heaven Canceler made it, but it wasn’t distributed to the public. You could close up most wounds with it, but it couldn’t deal with minute, irregular situations. If this kit didn’t work, it was time to see a doctor. “Well, yes, but it’s actually fundamentally different. Your teleportation lets you touch an object and send it to a distant place—you can send it from you to point A. But Musujime can move a distant object to another place—she can send an object at point A to point B. In her case, the point of origin isn’t fixed.” “So that’s why…That woman, she called herself a Move Point esper…” Shirai bit her lip and thought a little. She’d definitely been moving things all over the place without her hands touching them. But she had never tried to use her ability on Shirai’s actual body. If she were able to do that, then she would have slammed her into a wall or something instead of using a roundabout means like using throwing weapons. That much was for certain. “There’s some interesting experimental data here. Apparently her power can’t be used to teleport other espers with similar abilities. Since involuntary diffusion fields are still a budding topic of research, they don’t know why, but apparently similar involuntary diffusion fields will get in the way of Musujime’s ability…From what this report says, it specifies it doesn’t only apply to Musujime but to any espers with teleportation abilities—they can’t teleport others with the same type of power. Is that true, Shirai?” “I don’t know! This is the first time I’ve met someone else with teleportation.” She sniffed. She’d never tried it before, but she could make a guess. Espers with teleportation moved around with their absolute coordinates in eleven dimensions in mind, not in three. Even if one tried to alter the spatial coordinates of another teleporter, that mental positioning system probably served to hinder the process like a wedge. “And I have some boring old data, too. In her curriculum two years ago, Awaki Musujime’s powers went crazy and she apparently got pretty badly hurt.” “…Yes, that surely was some boring data. Nothing about any of this suggests a weakness. Why is a monster like her only Level Four, anyway?” Chewing on that, she took some tissues out of the pocket of her torn skirt and started wiping up the blood clinging to her wounds. Her skin, oddly, was a little cold as she felt the gentle elasticity it gave in return to her pats. “I’d think you could fight on even footing even if it was against an official Level Five anyway, depending on how you went about it. Maybe she’s got a weak spot.” Easy for her to say over the phone. “Anyway, about the Tree Diagram, well…” “I want to believe it was just her rambling like a lunatic, but it must not be good from the sounds of it.” Shirai began to wrap bandages over the gel that had coated her wounds. She could tell she was sweating a bit, and touching the cloth confirmed it. “No. I searched for news reports about the Tree Diagram being destroyed, but I came up with no hits. They’re saying it’s still floating in satellite orbit, and they’re saying the scheduled extra-vehicular maintenance for Academy City’s shuttle that launched last month has nothing to do with it.” “What is going on, then?” Shirai frowned, stopping her work, then thought back to the single photograph she’d been shown as she lay in a heap in that alley. A photograph of a broken satellite. Uiharu didn’t sound convinced, either. “I suppose that’s good news…? Another one of our teams captured the one they stole the luggage from, but he was just a courier. He said he had been told to do this by District 23 and didn’t know anything about a satellite. We had a psychometer look into his memories, but they confirmed what he said.” A courier. A professional one, maybe? she thought. He seemed to be quite tenacious about his job, considering he tried to pursue the group of culprits even after they’d stolen his luggage…“So District 23 was trying to deliver the luggage’s contents to some other research facility in Academy City. So they used a courier to transport it. And then, someone—probably Musujime’s own group—snatched it away. The one it was snatched from wanted to take back the luggage, but he couldn’t make a fuss about it because it was all supposed to be secret. That’s why they needed to get it back themselves—is that it?” Shirai slowly moved her bandaged arms and legs to make sure no blood was still coming out. The quick-drying gel had hardened already, completely closing up the wounds. “I wonder about what department District 23 was trying to deliver the luggage to in the first place, but investigating the robbers is probably more important. I think there’s a chance an outside organization hostile to Academy City is working behind the scenes. You have an eyewitness account, and besides, if they were from Academy City, too, they wouldn’t have relied on such a crude robbery.” “…An outside organization hostile to the city. Could Musujime be related to something like that? Just who is she?” “She’s been absent frequently from Kirigaoka Girls’ Academy. And they’re all excused absences, too. Which should never happen if she’s not doing work for Judgment.” “Are you saying whatever work she’s doing compares to ours?” Uiharu’s voice got smaller. “This isn’t confirmed, but according to some, she’s the guide. To the building with no windows or doors.” “…The Academy City General Board chairman’s headquarters.” It was a very movie-like rumor—that the leader of Academy City lived in a special building that could even absorb and disperse an impact from a nuclear missile. It had no entrances or exits, no windows or doors, so apparently they needed to use a “guide” who could teleport in and out. But if those rumors were true (or if it were more than that) then Musujime would be familiar with circumstances the general populace wasn’t. It wouldn’t be strange for her to be in contact with some special people. And maybe the outside organization thought that was important. “I do not know what Musujime’s circumstances are,” said Shirai, “but I will consider that she was in contact with an outside organization and caused this incident. The contents of the luggage…She called it the ‘remnant.’ Now that she has it…” “…All she has to do is bring it to the organization waiting outside the city and hand it off to them.” “Do you know what route she will take?” She reached for a change of underwear, but then noticed again that her hands had blood on them. She went to the sink instead and washed them. In a normal situation, she would have seemed like a dunce—a girl in pigtails washing her hands in the nude, cell phone between her face and shoulder. “That one’s tough. With teleportation, it wouldn’t matter what route she took. You know as well as anyone that even Academy City’s security systems have blind spots.” She paused. “Oh, but if the security would catch her, that could actually give us a clue.” “What do you mean?” asked Shirai, wiping her hands off with a towel and putting her feet through her panties. She pulled them up to her waist in one go—a little too far, so she pushed them back down a bit with her fingers. “If she’s going to slip past the security systems, then we just have to check all the blind spots. Compared to all of Academy City, there’s quite a bit less ground to cover, right?” “…You say it like it’s easy. I’m wounded, you know…Ow!” Right when she tried to hook her small brassiere around her back, a pain shot through her side. She must have caught her skin in it. Frowning at not having chosen a front-hook or a slip, she rubbed her side. Thankfully, it hadn’t caused another wound to open. “…” Kuroko Shirai very briefly gave her underwear a once-over. Mikoto Misaka had called her tastes bad, and she felt (fairly seriously) down about that. However, she didn’t actually pay much attention to the underwear’s actual design. Underwear wasn’t for showing off—it was for wearing. She would take more comfortable underwear over the alternative any day. The fabric in underwear with childish designs on them sometimes felt thick and cheap, and it was distracting to have it rubbing against skin when she moved around. Seriously, if you were going to choose something like that, you might as well not be wearing anything under your skirt at all (though in her case, she needed to maintain her composure to use her abilities). She and Mikoto couldn’t agree on this, and it made her disappointed. Once she was finished putting on her underwear, she wrapped the leather belts she used as metal-dart holders to her thighs. She didn’t have any spares. After rubbing disinfecting alcohol from the first-aid kit on the ones that had been stuck in her body, she packed them back into the belts. “Umm, well, listen. If she was trying to get out of Academy City by crossing between blind spots starting at the scene, then including both underground and above ground, a number of routes are naturally available to her. So doing a thorough search would—” “…Shh!” Shirai detected someone present and quickly hung up the phone. A moment later, she heard the sounds of someone coming into the room from beyond the thin bathroom door. Shooting a glance at the bathroom door, she realized she’d forgotten to lock it, and she hastily shut it and did so. The metallic clink echoed awfully unnaturally. “?…Kuroko?” There was no mistaking that voice. Even slightly muffled by the thin boards, she knew who it was right away. She would have only needed to hear her breathe to be confident it was Mikoto Misaka. “What, are you taking a bath? You should at least turn the lights on when you come back here. It was pitch-black. What were you doing?” Shirai gave a start. She couldn’t let Mikoto see how wrecked she’d gotten. She mustn’t even act in a way that would let her imagine what she looked like. The girl was far more the type to burden herself with the problems of others than she herself realized. “I-it’s called conserving energy, Big Sister. Poor little Kuroko was being kind and considerate, trying to slow global warming even a little bit.” “Uh-huh. You know, Academy City is mostly wind-powered. Carbon dioxide has nothing to do with it, does it? And it’s supplemented by things that don’t run on fuel, like solar power, too. I mean, using the air conditioner is another problem, but…” “Oh, really? And here I just wanted an excuse to invite you into a nice, dimly lit atmosphere, Big Sister. —Oh, come, Big Sister, that kind of groaning is very improper for a lady.” Shirai giggled, leaning against the door. The door vibrated; Mikoto must have done the same thing on the other side. As Shirai felt that, she remembered something. Didn’t you think things were a little too convenient? Like how the useless person who stole this practically aimed to get wrapped up in a traffic jam? You couldn’t guess the reason behind the electricity failure on the traffic lights? There’s no possible way you wouldn’t know what kind of powers Tokiwadai’s ace has. —She knew something was happening. Mikoto Misaka sure has it rough. Someone blew up the Tree Diagram for her, so her nightmare ended. —And she knew Mikoto Misaka had a lot to do with it. But now they’re saying they’re going to repair it. If that happens, they’ll redo the experiment. So, well, I suppose I can sort of relate to her feeling she needs to struggle desperately against that. —And she knew that even though Mikoto was wrapped up in these problems, she would never show a hint of distress or worry to Shirai—no, she didn’t want to. She knew. All she had to do was put together the pieces to understand. Mikoto had her own issues, but she didn’t want to reveal them to Shirai, and someone else was responding to them. And whatever her reason may have been, she preferred Shirai to be that way…as if repelling her from some private circle. If Shirai had done her best, had worked so hard she shed her own blood… …then Mikoto Misaka would never be happy about it. Never. Because that meant Mikoto had gotten her wrapped up in her own private affairs. But even still… Shirai felt strongly that she wanted to do something for Mikoto. She wanted to lighten her load, even if she couldn’t do much. Even if the things Shirai devoted herself to were never revealed and that credit was given to someone else—she didn’t care. That’s what she wished for. Staring at her bloodied clothing from inside her wound-covered body, she clenched her teeth and prayed for it. Kuroko Shirai didn’t know about any of the specifics. She hadn’t been told anything, so she couldn’t make any judgments. But she wanted to end it. She wanted to make sure to take her out of the situation—of spilling her own blood for something. And once she put an end to everything, she wanted them to be able to laugh together again without any background things to worry about, like they had today after school. All alone, Kuroko Shirai made up her mind. And to do that…I will offer you serious lies, Big Sister, even if you don’t want me to. “Big Sister, where have you been?” “Hmm? Grabbing one or two accessories I missed out on buying, I suppose. Recently I’ve been looking all over for them, but I just can’t quite seem to find them. I just stopped back here to pick up something I forgot. I’ll be going out for a bit again. Oh, but don’t expect any souvenirs, Kuroko.” What a weak argument. Shirai wondered what she’d do if she said she would come along with her, like she always did. Recently…That means Big Sister has been doing something by herself lately. Looking for accessories? Top-secret ones, perhaps…? Good grief, you said it. Shirai smiled thinly but didn’t back down. There was one thing she needed to say. The thing Mikoto had told her this afternoon. She would turn the implication of those words right back on her. “Hopefully it will not rain tonight. The weather forecasts haven’t been correct lately, after all.” “…” For a brief moment, Mikoto inhaled as if surprised. Then, after a few moments of silence, she spoke, her voice a little softer than before—as if tired by something. “You’re right. Thanks for worrying about me. I’ll do my best to come back as soon as I can.” She felt her leave the door. After pulling her back away from the thin boards, she seemed to exit the room. She heard the bang of the door to their room opening and closing. “Anyway…” She took a breath, then, still in her underwear, snatched up her spare summer uniform and got her phone back out. There was something she needed to ask Uiharu. “Yes, that’s right. Could you be a dear and tell me where that utter piece of trash could have gone?” 2 After cleaning the bloodstains in the bathroom and dealing with her torn clothing, Shirai teleported again and exited onto the road behind the girls’ dormitory. It was 8:30 PM. Privately, she was a little surprised it hadn’t even been two hours since going shopping with Mikoto. At this hour, the transportation facilities of Academy City would be mostly shut down for the night. The bus and train operation schedules were all aligned with the end of the school day, one reason being to prevent kids from being out late. The only things on the roads would be the cars of faculty and university students, taxis, and other trucks for business purposes. It seemed that the traffic had already cleared up. Of course, there were very few wheeled vehicles in Academy City to begin with, so it made everything look smooth. Shirai took a breath of air. Its smell and taste had already changed to that of the nighttime. “Umm, I have some useful news, Shirai.” Her cell phone was saying something. “It doesn’t seem like Awaki Musujime is able to move her own body continuously like you do. There was a note about that in the data banks. Do you remember how I told you her abilities went crazy during a curriculum she took two years ago?” “Yes, what about it?” “After that, she frequently made use of the school counselors. I wonder if it could have traumatized her somehow. She hasn’t gotten good results in experiments to make her own body move, and apparently she has a history of pushing herself so hard that her health breaks down. Like every time she moves her body, she has to summon all her courage to do it. Which means…” “…That if she kept trying to warp herself, she’d get mentally exhausted in no time flat, is that it?” Shirai bit her lip a little. “I suppose I didn’t see Musujime teleport her own body during that battle. If she could do that in the first place, it would have been faster for her to steal the luggage herself and run away than it would be to call in outside agents. We can move at high speeds, ignoring walls and roads—we don’t need to limit ourselves to traditional means of pursuit.” Even Shirai’s own abilities largely varied based on her mental state on a given day. Maybe Musujime’s strength would plummet, too, if she dug up the girl’s trauma during combat. Still, though. Is that why such a powerful esper is still stuck down here with me in terms of Level? With that bitter idea in mind, Shirai began to teleport. Every time she advanced eighty meters and set foot on the ground again, she’d immediately determine her next destination and warp there. In honesty, her body was such a mess that she could barely walk. At times like these, the ability to freely move continuously at a high speed seemed quite reliable. “In Musujime’s case, she may be able to move things from far away, which I can’t—but on the other hand, the calculations are that much more demanding. I can only move things I’m touching, but that means I don’t have to calculate the coordinates of its original location.” “Yes…I suppose so. —You can…shrink the calculations…that way. Anyway—as for the predicted routes…Musujime could utilize without…using Move Point…” Shirai paid close attention to the voice coming out of the phone, which was stuttering because of the side effects of teleportation, but before Uiharu had the time to finish, Shirai was given the proper directions by something else. Boom A thunder-like noise reverberated from somewhere far away. Kuroko Shirai looked up at the night sky. “Could that have been…?” Academy City’s transportation facilities, store hours, and the like were all essentially made to match school hours. Lights faded quickly as the sun set, so compared to other urban centers, this one had less artificial lights. The view of a sky full of stars tonight meant it was clear out, which implied there were no thunderheads—nothing to make lightning strike. Then where had the scream of high-voltage electricity originated? “Shirai, we have reports of a large-scale battle between espers happening in District 7, Area 1. It’s right on Musujime’s predicted escape route!” To overshadow the volume of Uiharu’s voice and to block the transmission of electromagnetic waves, thunder roared once again. She knew for sure. There was no mistaking that tone color. “Big Sister” she shouted, changing course. While she felt carelessly exposing herself to Mikoto went against her style, when she imagined the girl being attacked by someone, she could no longer choose the option of staying put. She used teleportation to move from point to point through space, one after another. As she did, the sounds of seemingly violent sparks rang out like a bombing attack. The men and women out, all older than Shirai, were looking that way dubiously, their night walks interrupted. Shirai advanced on and on as though hurried by both of these things, discovering her destination was near at hand. She quit using her high-speed movement via continuous teleportation, moving toward the corner of the building—right where the blind spot was—from where she’d heard the immense sounds of electrical attacks. As a detective might do when tailing a suspect, she poked her head around the side of the building to take a look. And then she saw it. 3 It was a battlefield. A battlefield created by a single girl. Its location: a building under construction. Thinking back, it was the same place as the accident where the steel framework had collapsed on August 31st. They had removed the broken pieces of frame getting in the way and looked into strengthening the remaining sections already—and they had just begun to rebuild it…or so she recalled. A minibus lay on its side in front of the building’s entrance. Its windows were broken and its contents were strewn, but nobody was inside it. Everyone who had been riding it had dived for cover inside the building under construction, hoping the scattered mess of steel frames would give them some kind of barrier. All in all, about thirty men and women were hiding in the building. Some were armed with guns, and others were Academy City espers. Those guns! I remember them. They’re the ones those guys I wrecked with the luggage were carrying… Shirai sucked in her breath as she peeked out from the building’s shadows. Both the guns’ design and the way they held them were similar. Nevertheless, Mikoto Misaka was just standing there next to the toppled bus. I know who those people with the guns are. And that idiot woman said Big Sister was deeply involved with that luggage. Which means… Given the format of all this, she could guess these were the guys trying to give the remnant to the outside organization. Someone she knew was among them. Awaki Musujime. None could present an obstacle to Mikoto. There may have been a fallen minibus right there, but she wasn’t trying to use it as a shield. Common sense would suggest how utterly defenseless she was when faced with dozens of enemies all with ranged weapons… …but she easily crushed that common sense, showing them what the nickname Railgun really meant. Light erupted from Mikoto Misaka’s fingertips. Her coin was launched at three times the speed of sound, easily slicing through the thick steel frames supporting the building. The men with the guns took a blast from the slight fragments, swept away just like that as the esper who’d been aiming at Mikoto’s head from an upper story lost his footing on the crumbling supports and was swallowed down into it. The single Railgun had crushed through almost twenty steel frames, finally coming to a stop after inflicting cracks on the wall of a different building. A few of the flustered men tried to withdraw farther inward, but Mikoto’s electricity put a stop to that. Pale blue light flew from her bangs, striking a portion of the steel framework, then immediately ran through the entire building. Anyone touching the framework was instantly blown backward, and even those who weren’t were sent to the ground, electricity piercing them from all sides as they tried to make their way deeper into the metal coffin. There were a few espers who remained through a combination of luck and some factor or other, and those tried to rally. They were too late. The difference in their powers was too great. Railgun blew away an aeroshooter’s vacuum blade after causing little more than a gust of wind. A telekinetic fired a handful of wooden stakes at her, but she flooded them with high-voltage electricity and they exploded. Even another electromaster had passed out from sheer terror before even using his power. She was almighty. This was no more than a hopeless battle, a demonstration of why Level Fives were called Superpowers here. This was how different the abilities of the only seven in Academy City really were. The fact that no one had died in this situation actually felt like a joke to Shirai. Unless she took into consideration her own attacks, her opponents’ movements, and how the destroyed objects would move, she couldn’t have such mercy. It had been an offhanded attack, and yet a mixed team of dozens of people was already in shambles. Then, Shirai remembered when she’d gone back into her room after treating her wounds in the bathroom. The lid on the savings bank on the side table was off. The small treasure chest–themed container would have been filled with the arcade tokens she used as bullets for her Railgun. Mikoto still hadn’t taken a single step. All she did was gaze levelly at the finished battlefield and announce disdainfully, “Come out here, you coward. I’m not impressed at how you use your allies as a buffer.” “Would you like me to regale you with a sweet tale of not letting my friends’ deaths be in vain?” The voice in return was still calm enough to reply. Dragging the big white luggage with one hand and actually smiling, Awaki Musujime appeared on the third floor atop some steel beams. The men, knocked unconscious by the high voltage, were scattered around her. She’d probably warped them to her the moment of the attack and used them as a literal shield. The flashlight dangled lazily from her right hand. “Villains like you are all so petty. You seem elated. You didn’t think escaping me for forty seconds meant you’d beaten the Railgun, did you?” “Not at all. If you’d been playing for real, that attack would have reduced this entire area to rubbish. Perhaps that’s why?” Musujime set the luggage down on the steel beam, then sat on top of it. “Still, you seem to be in quite the rush tonight. Usually you prefer information warfare. You’ve never brought the direct force of your Railgun in to disrupt the experiment, despite its power. Are you really that afraid of the remnants being put back together? Or is it about the reconstructed Tree Diagram being mass-produced internationally? Or, perhaps, that someone will restart the experiment before long?” “…Shut up, you foul woman.” Sparks leaped from Mikoto’s bangs with a crack. Still seated on the luggage, Musujime swung the flashlight up and down as if to beckon to her. … Shirai took a peek around the building again to confirm to herself that it was Musujime who Mikoto was facing down. She still didn’t grasp what their connection was, but they were definitely in combat. She thought back to the words Musujime had spoken. You didn’t know? Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re being used without knowing it…Tokiwadai’s Railgun doesn’t have that kind of character. They’re evidently not complete strangers…Their conversation didn’t seem at all like this was the first time they’d met. They’d probably clashed before, and now Shirai was getting a glimpse of a small piece of that. Clashed? With Big Sister? And she’s still at it? Battles didn’t need to be fought cleanly, of course. In fact, given Musujime’s personality (not that she knew much of it), she seemed more the type to pull surprise attacks from the shadows. But still, just being able to stand after fighting Railgun was abnormal. She considered how to best make use of the current situation. She couldn’t just saunter on out there; there was a marked difference in her and Musujime’s skills. Besides, she absolutely wanted to avoid acting carelessly, messing up the battle, and causing Mikoto to get hurt because of it. “Heh-heh. Why do you worry so much about weaklings? Besides, those things you seem to hold so dear were created for the experiment. It should be fine to destroy them. It was the original intention.” “Are you being serious right now?” “Oh, come now. In the end, you’re fighting me for yourself, aren’t you? Well, so am I. Those who fight for themselves, with their own strength, in a way that suits them get other people hurt. What’s wrong with that? It’s stranger to be patient with something you hold in your hands. Right?” scoffed the one who had calmly used her allies’ bodies as shields. Saying that when all was said and done, she wielded her strength for her own satisfaction. That they were the same, so one getting so violently angry at the other was strange. Instead, Mikoto Misaka smiled a little. “Yeah.” This time, pale blue sparks started crackling all over her body, not just from her bangs. “I’m pissed off. So pissed off it feels like I’m about to burst a blood vessel. Yes. Digging up the remnants of the Tree Diagram, idiots showing up to rob something for their own profit, trying to reignite the experiment everyone finally got around to settling. Yeah, that makes me angry. So angry I have half a mind to wage a digital war on the central players involved in all this and crush them all at once.” The light in her eyes focused directly on Awaki Musujime. “But I’m even angrier than that right now.” Those words caused Shirai, who was thinking up a plan to help Mikoto—or at least, to not make things worse—to stop thinking. “…That idiot. Did she think I wouldn’t notice? She didn’t sign in, the room was a mess, the first-aid kit was gone. Did she think I wouldn’t realize what a terrible situation she was in just from hearing the pain in her voice from across that door…?” Shirai nearly choked. Now she knew what she was mad about. “That’s what I’m mad about most of all. The fact that I got an underclassman wrapped up in all this. She did some slipshod first aid on herself instead of going to a doctor, and even beaten up like that, she still won’t give up! To make things worse, she left you alone! Everything she told me just made me more worried I’m furious that my underclassman could be this stupid” Shirai’s chest tightened. Musujime wouldn’t have understood what she was saying. Plus, Tokiwadai’s Railgun didn’t know Shirai was here. So who was she shouting at? She kept it a secret from Shirai. She had a transparent excuse all ready to go about looking for accessories. She warned her numerous times with that ambiguous advice that the weather might get bad. And now, she was all by herself. What had Mikoto Misaka been fighting for until just now, and in this place? “Yeah, I’m mad as hell right now, and it’s because I’m selfish! Mad at that unreasonably perfect underclassman, mad at the piece of trash who dared to hurt her, and, most of all, mad at myself for causing this horrible situation in the first place” Mikoto shouted as though she were driving a blade into her own chest. As if to put an end to both the Tree Diagram incident and to the person she was snarling at. “If you say this incident started with the experiment, then the responsibility lies with me. Responsibility for my idiot underclassman getting hurt and responsibility for you hurting my idiot underclassman! If everything is my fault, then I’ll stop you, using every last bit of privilege and duty I have” Shirai knew. Why was Mikoto trying to fight Musujime alone, behind Shirai’s back, when she was already fighting? She was neither Shirai’s ally nor Musujime’s enemy. She had chosen the path of stopping everybody here without going along with anyone. All by herself. She even pointed her metaphorical blade at whatever nightmare she was holding inside herself. “I’m putting an end to this once and for all. There’s no reason either one of you needs to be dragged along by the experiment—by that despair.” Crossing her legs on top of the luggage, Musujime giggled. “You’re as kind as you are sentimental. It isn’t as though you created the silicon-corundum unit. If you would just complain that you were a victim here, too, like normal people would, we wouldn’t have to be fighting.” “You say that the reason you started this fight was because of our experiments. Whether that was the Level Six Shift experiment or the Radio Noise trials.” ? Level Six Shift? Radio Noise? They sounded like code to Shirai. What did they refer to? Musujime, however, seemed to understand. “They were not yours—they belonged to the Sisters and the strongest of the espers, didn’t they?…And I see you’ve wrested the story from the allies of mine you took down. About my reasons. As you’re an esper yourself, then, you should understand—I cannot be caught here. No matter who I need to sacrifice, no matter what means I need to use, I will have you let me escape.” She got rid of her lighter tone with that last sentence, at least. Shirai readied herself from around the corner of the building. What was Musujime’s maximum teleportation range? Mikoto narrowed her eyes a little. “…You think you can run from my electricity with a measly Level Four ability?” “Oh, my. I certainly wouldn’t be able to avoid an attack at the speed of light after looking at it, but that’s about all. If I just read your movements beforehand and warp in conjunction—” “That won’t work.” Mikoto cut her off cleanly. “This isn’t the first time we’ve fought, you know. I’m sure you’ve realized it yourself. There’s a little hitch in your ability. You can move whatever objects you please, but you can’t move your own body. I can understand that. If you warped somewhere dangerous, like inside a wall or into traffic, it would be all over. You don’t care how many others get hurt so you can save yourself. You’d want to eliminate the unlikely possibility of destroying yourself, wouldn’t you?” “…” “Why don’t you say something? Did you think I wouldn’t have noticed that by now? You use your Move Point on the bodies of allies and signboards and stuff as a distraction, but you still physically run away. Of course I’d see something wrong with that.” Mikoto sighed, thinking it absurd. “Besides, anyone normal would have run away in such a disadvantageous situation. Or are you just unwilling to do that? Anyone could see you don’t have any room to relax, here.” Awaki Musujime smiled thinly. But perhaps someone with good eyes would have noticed her fingertips trembling just slightly, but unnaturally. “It’s probably got something to do with that incident in the data banks where your powers went berserk. You don’t hesitate to teleport other people or objects. It’s only if you have to teleport yourself, isn’t it? I bet you’d have to spend two or three seconds to make absolutely sure your calculations were correct.” And then Mikoto said, “How many shots do you think I can fire in three seconds?” “…Was there that much information in the data banks?” “Don’t make me answer that again. It doesn’t all need to be written in the data banks for me to figure it out just based on your face and how you fight.” In response, Awaki Musujime’s smile deepened. She brought her hanging legs onto the steel framework. Then, lifting herself off the luggage she was sitting on, she stood up elegantly. The languidly moving flashlight stopped. “But you see…” —If it’s not my own body, then I won’t hesitate to use Move Point on it. At her words, Musujime gathered almost ten people right in front of her. Each was one of the ones Mikoto had knocked unconscious with her attack. There were Academy City outsiders and espers alike. Adults and children. It was a literal human shield. However… “That shield…It’s got a lot of holes” Mikoto let sparks loose from her bangs anyway. Human bodies couldn’t form a flat surface like metal plates could. If you got a bunch together, there would always be holes. She was going to penetrate through those slight gaps. A lance of more than one billion volts of electricity. A moment before it fired out of Mikoto’s hair, Musujime smiled from the other side of her shield. “A question for you.” Her tone was cheerful, despite the situation. “How many unrelated people would you say are in this shield?” What?! Mikoto immediately slammed on the brakes. In her hesitation, the three-second delay came and went. A moment later, Awaki Musujime disappeared into thin air. With the luggage. Every one of the unconscious people fluttered down toward the steel beams below. They were all people Mikoto had just taken down. Musujime hadn’t used a single unrelated person in her shield. “Damn it” she swore, looking around the area. She hadn’t moved to anywhere in sight, of course. The annoying thing about teleportation was that it moved from one point to another, so there was no obvious line to her anyone could follow. Shirai caught a glimpse of Mikoto’s face for a second. She didn’t appear to be looking at anyone. If she had been, she definitely wouldn’t have let them see her about to cry as she was. Kuroko Shirai rested her back against the wall, hid herself, and, glaring into the void, thought, All right. It is now my turn, Big Sister. If she were in Musujime’s shoes, where would the teleporter go in order to escape Mikoto Misaka’s pursuit? Plus, how much would she leave herself open in the relief of having escaped from the Railgun? I do beg your pardon, Big Sister. Even if your idiot underclassman heard what you said and knew just how much you were worrying about her, my will to see this through has not bent even an inch. They would need a similar esper in order to go after her. Someone who could move freely, ignoring the flow of traffic and the thickness of walls. “Okay, Kuroko Shirai, you can do this. Once more into the breach—and make sure to come back alive.” She placed her Judgment armband on the shoulder of her uniform. A second later, after having reaffirmed her mission, she was gone. INTERLUDE THREE—I need to hurry. In a pitch-black hospital room, with all the lights out, a certain girl rose from a bed. —I must make haste, thinks Misaka, revising her priorities in their entirety. She looked like Mikoto Misaka, but she wasn’t. She was Little Misaka, serial number 10032, who had been created from Mikoto’s genes. Broadly speaking, she was an esper who could control electricity, and also a group of espers who communicated via electrical signals to anyone on the same brain wavelength. After a certain incident, she had been imposing on this hospital to get her body treated. Most of the other Sisters were using facilities outside Academy City. Units like Little Misaka who had remained in Academy City were in the minority. What was internally spurring Little Misaka onward right now was information from the other Sisters of the same type who’d been sent to facilities around the world and the conclusion drawn by that serial number 20001, Last Order, who integrated and managed all that information. She had been collecting fragmentary data from the rest of the world before now, but upon accumulating and unifying all of it, a huge problem emerged. Misaka will reconfirm now, says Misaka 10032, initiating optimization of everyone’s memory information via the network. She gave a look around her, then grabbed with her right hand the special goggles placed on the shelf near the bed. The reason eight nations and nineteen organizations are presently launching or planning to launch shuttles under the pretext of space research and development is because they wish to retrieve the remnants of the Tree Diagram, conjectured to be in satellite orbit, correct? says Misaka, offering a question to the many units in the network. If that were true, then they wanted to rebuild the Tree Diagram. That would be why incidents were springing up regarding the remnants necessary for that purpose. Restoration of the world’s most powerful parallel processing equipment equated to a resumption of the experiment. The very same one a certain boy and girl had risked it all to bring to an end. Similar movements present in Seville, affirms Misaka 10854. Rocket launch plans confirmed in Schleswig as well, reports Misaka 16770. I have received information that Novoslbirsk has already collected part of the fragments, follows up Misaka 19999. Still in Novoslbirsk, study results report that the core part necessary for restoration, the silicon-corundum unit, is in Academy City, and that the Tree Diagram cannot be completed with the other fragments alone, says Misaka 20000, offering supplemental explanation. As Little Misaka sat up in bed and swung her feet to the floor, many voices, emotions, and images flowed directly into her head like an avalanche. They were the voices of her Sisters, who had been left in the care of agencies and organizations supporting Academy City across the world, and were now receiving treatment. By constructing a network using the brain waves of all the others, they could acquire information from 9,969 places in the world in a heartbeat. Presently, the only remnant absolutely needed to restore the Tree Diagram must be in Academy City, speculates Misaka 10044. Perhaps the fragments other agencies have acquired, as well as the pieces left currently in satellite orbit, are being ignored by Academy City simply because they cannot be used by themselves to restore it, further speculates Misaka 14002. In the same vein, Cape Kennedy is currently advancing a plan to infiltrate Academy City to steal the remnant, reports Misaka 18820. Apparently their group is called the Asociación de Cienia, adds Misaka adds Misaka and stuff. Oh? Should I have said Misaka 20001 instead? asks Misaka asks Misaka, wondering to herself. Little Misaka clenched her teeth at the endless flood of opinions being sent. None of it was good news. The very act of her getting multiple confirmations on the answer was partially because she wished it were some sort of joke, but she didn’t appear to realize that herself. “It is already past the time Misaka is allowed out, but I cannot stay here, says Misaka, driving herself on with the excuse of urgency.” She placed her hands on her nightclothes. They weren’t pajamas or a negligee but a simple surgical gown. She undid the string in the front, exposing her utterly naked white skin. She cast off the surgical gown as if dropping her bathrobe to the floor for a lover, then took a towel and simply wiped the sweat from her skin. She could feel through it that her body heat was slightly higher than normal. Her poor physical condition came with a slight fever. All of her skin, too, was tinged ever so slightly with redness. With somewhat unsteady legs, she put on a pair of panties, reached behind her to hook on her bra, did up the buttons on her short-sleeve white blouse, pulled up the zipper on the side of her skirt, reached her head and hands through her summer sweater, then sat on the bed and put her socks on one at a time. Then she put her goggles on her forehead and put on her shoes. Finally, she picked up the surgical gown off the floor, folded it, and placed it on her bed. The minimum required preparations had been completed in an extremely short time. She spared a glance for the door, but then shook her head and moved to the window, unlocking it and sliding it up. She looked down. This was the second floor. Little Misaka didn’t pay any mind to that fact, though. In any case, dealing with the remnant within Academy City is the top priority, concludes Misaka 10032. Yes, the Tree Diagram’s restoration must be avoided, thinks Misaka, renewing her determination as she remembers that boy and girl. Misaka does not wish to bring a shadow over their faces. Despite her determination, her expressionless eyes contained a hint of anguish. The boy had run to the switchyard that night to save Little Misaka, who had been badly beaten. He had shouted to her, ignoring even the likes of Academy City’s strongest esper. She remembered. She remembered what he had said. “…” She shook her slightly feverish, dazed head and set herself back to thinking about practical things. The situation involved them, and it was advancing even now. They weren’t at the epicenter of the incident, but by collecting information from places all over the planet’s crust, they had successfully gotten a vague idea of what was happening. And despite knowing all that… …neither Little Misaka, nor any of the Sisters, could set foot into it. There were less than ten of them, including her, still remaining in Academy City. And most of them were receiving treatment for their excessive genetic manipulation and the side effects of their controlled growth acceleration. None of them were in a state to deal with an emergency—much less be used in combat. Little Misaka knew. She knew the name of the one who stood up for her when her life was in peril. So once again, she decided to entrust their fate to that one boy. To the boy who came all alone to the switchyard that night. To the boy who stood up to Academy City’s strongest Level Five with nothing but his fist. To the boy who gritted his teeth and rose again, no matter how many times he fell or how many times he was attacked. The first thing to come to her mind at a time like this was his face. And his expression—unyielding, no matter what the situation. Of course, she didn’t want to get him involved. But she had no one else she could rely on. She was powerless. She bit her lip a little at her own inability to do anything about her problem herself. That, combined with the fact that she was getting someone else wrapped up in a big problem she couldn’t solve herself. Even still, she, or rather they, didn’t realize. That the anguish they were feeling now was their heart, which had never needed to feel something like that until now. Nor that the anguish was the other side of the same coin—the kindness of taking others into consideration. The Sisters knew exactly where a certain student dormitory was. Little Misaka had acquired the information from carrying cans of juice there in the past. And now, out of all the Sisters currently in Academy City, she was closest to that position. Serial number 20001, also known as Last Order, was in this hospital as well, but being an incomplete specimen, she couldn’t expect any physical abilities from her. She placed a foot on the opened window frame. I will confirm one last time, asserts Misaka 10032. In accordance with Plan 228, all Sisters in Academy City will each move to retrieve the remnant. Number 10032, you have received an especially severe amount of physical damage compared to the others, so should you not devote yourself to your treatment? asks Misaka 10774, showing her concern. As the voice reached her mind, Little Misaka’s body wavered slightly. The Sisters were somatic-cell clones who originally had short life spans. Various things had been done to them in order to construct a physical body in an even shorter amount of time. They were undergoing treatment to regain the balance this had caused them to lose. Even among them, though, Little Misaka’s current weakness was above all the other Sisters because of the persistent attacks from Accelerator during the experiment. Walking around the hospital for short periods of time was one thing, but even Heaven Canceler couldn’t give her permission to engage in genuine activity on the level of real-time combat. Her body was still suffering from a slight fever. Her sense of balance swayed a little, and it felt like the floor got squishy. For now, that was everything. If she forced herself to do more than a fixed amount of exercise, her fever would immediately grow much worse. She would even be in danger of coughing up blood and collapsing as a result. It does not matter, answers Misaka 10032, she declared despite all that, gazing unflinchingly into the darkness out the window. What are these wounds compared to the situation? asks Misaka 10032 in return. Misaka will not stand and wait until she fulfills her promise to that boy, repeats Misaka 10032 in full understanding. For just a few seconds, she stopped receiving information from the network. Eventually, like a wave coming back toward the shore… Acknowledged; we will entrust this to you, says Misaka 14458 with a nod. We will leave this to you, agrees Misaka 19002. Misaka will rely on you, too, says Misaka says Misaka. Wait, Misaka wants to do something, too; she can’t stand doing nothing, and he hasn’t even come back yet from wherever he went, says Misaka says Misaka, waving her hands and feet around. Little Misaka frowned slightly, then said, Misaka 20001, your role in Plan 228 is to remain where you are and act as an information processing relay, advises Misaka 10032. Also, aside from that, who is “he” exactly? asks…Misaka 20001. Please respond, declares Misaka 10032, though it does not look like she will get an answer. Serial number 20001, Last Order, had apparently severed the connection after saying whatever she wanted, and she didn’t answer Little Misaka’s call. Troubling, she thought briefly. Last Order was originally created as a host specimen who could send an emergency stop request if the Sisters were to go berserk, so the Sisters couldn’t give Last Order commands or restrict her actions over the network. In any case, Misaka will move on her own, says Misaka 10032, disconnecting. She jumped out of the window without a mind to her skirt. Her summer Tokiwadai Middle School uniform fluttered in the night breeze. At the moment she landed, she folded her legs under her to soften the impact. She had originally been programmed to turn aside the recoil from firing anti-tank rifles in combat. A fall of a few inches wouldn’t damage her in the slightest. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to do the practical calculations fast enough if it were something she hadn’t predicted beforehand—like sudden combat damage. She shot off at full speed, breaking out of the hospital grounds. She jumped a fence, dashed into the road, then began immediately shortening the distance by using the labyrinthine array of back alleys. Even while she ran, she was sweating. If she had been more emotionally abundant, she would have thought the sweat was icky. She was currently receiving treatment from the doctor with the face quite similar to a frog’s—and she was in a much weaker condition than the other Sisters because of her fight with Accelerator. But she ran on anyway. If the information of serial number 20001, Last Order, was correct, if the remnant were retrieved, the Tree Diagram restored using it, then mass-produced, there was a risk that the experiment would be resumed as a result. That one fact they had calculated indicated a danger to the lives of all the almost ten thousand living Sisters. A risk—and a danger. Still running at full speed, Little Misaka wondered to herself how she had come to be able to make judgments like that. “Misaka now has a reason she cannot allow herself to easily die, concludes Misaka. Generally speaking, I’ll pass on dying, thank you very much, declares Misaka.” Yes—she made a promise to that boy. She needed treatment. When it was all over, she’d be with him again. It was a comforting promise. And one that would be very painful if she broke it. Little Misaka reached a main street from an alley, then dove into another back street. She knocked over a garbage can, sending a wandering stray cat frantically running away. She narrowed her eyes painfully, but there was no time to apologize. There was only one person she could rely on when situations like this happened. It wasn’t her logic saying that, but rather her experience. So now that she had felt herself to be in danger, she was trying to tell that to a certain boy. “Still…,” said Little Misaka into the empty air. If she asked him for help, it would mean sending that boy into a battlefield yet again. At the same time, though, she knew that even if she avoided getting him involved and kept quiet, then if and when the experiment was started again, he would go charging in, no questions asked. Yes—she could say for sure. He would come no matter what. If the experiment did get resumed, if the Sisters began to be killed off according to a plan again, then he would clench his fist, not even thinking about how much of a risk it would be to intervene. “If he would get involved whatever the case, then it would be safer to tell him before the situation worsens, concludes Misaka. Of course, it would be best that nobody got involved in Misaka’s problems, but Misaka does not seem to have the right to such lip service, given how she has left this to someone else already, says Misaka, her shoulders sagging as she continues her all-out sprint.” She got out onto a large road, then skidded on her heels and turned. She began to run faster as she weaved through the waves of people. That moment. Crack! came an ache in her temples. …! Her head was spinning. White noise had come across the electrical network comprised of the Sisters’ brain waves, which was something that almost never happened. As Little Misaka sent a message to the network warning them that something strange had occurred, she sharpened her senses to search for a cause, bringing the goggles on her forehead down to her eyes. Electromagnetic wave interference due to super-high voltage electrical current…Perhaps the Original could output this sort of power, speculates Misaka without any evidence. I can estimate the location to be within five hundred meters, but… Such an immense high-tension current would have no use other than battle. Little Misaka was worried about that, but heading for the student dormitory came first. She put her goggles back on her forehead and ran farther. A second later, she arrived at the dorm’s entrance. Diving into the elevator, she pushed the button for the seventh floor, then as the elevator slowly ascended, she went over in her mind how to parse and reduce the information she needed to tell that boy. Whatever the case, time was of the essence. She needed to convey correct information to him as quickly as possible, while also conveying the sense of danger she felt from the situation. She wondered if he’d listen to her if she barged in at this late hour. She wanted to know the exact time, but she didn’t have a watch. Sending a signal out to the network, she immediately received various times at places around the world from the other Sisters. Combining them and recalculating led her to the current time in JST. The elevator made an electronic noise. Its doors opened with a shaky, uncertain clatter. Little Misaka immediately resumed her all-out dash. The entrance to her destination was the one door that had had its railing rebuilt recently for some reason. Coming to an abrupt stop in front of the door, she politely rang the intercom, then turned the doorknob a moment later anyway, not caring what he thought of it. The knob turned with an insecure lack of resistance. Perhaps, for those living here, it actually wasn’t late enough that she would be considered rude, concluded Little Misaka vaguely to herself, throwing open the door. Touma Kamijou was inside. The girl named Index was inside with him. They were both in pajamas, and for some reason the girl had climbed up the boy’s back and had her teeth in his head. A cat, perhaps reacting on instinct upon seeing the female devourer, was trembling alone in a corner. Surprised at the sound of the door opening, they looked at Little Misaka at the entrance. She considered. What sentence would change his mood the fastest in this situation? Logic gave up on answering that, and experience guided her instead. She spoke. “I have a request, says Misaka, looking straight at you and speaking her mind.” As she spoke, she wondered what had changed about her to allow her to say that. “Please save the lives of Misaka and Misaka’s Sisters, says Misaka, bowing to you.” The boy didn’t have any questions. He just prompted her to continue. Word Count: (11639)