To Aru Majutsu No Index Volume 12 [ENG]

8/3/2019 To Aru Majutsu No Index Volume 12 [ENG]

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To Aru Majutsu no Index: Volume 12.


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Prologue: Shirai Kuroko, Pillow, and Bed

Suffering_of_a_Negligee.

Mornings at Tokiwadai Middle School start early.

That said 5:20am is way too early. At this time, when one could first hear the chirping of small birds,

it's normal for the girls' dorm to be dead silent. Boarders, after all, comprise 80% of 2.3 million

inhabitants of Gakuen Toshi --- well, they come in various characters and types. But even in Tokiwadai,

there are some bothersome rules like "lights out" and "curfew" (although it's known that some Level 5's

and members of Judgment manage to sneak out).

With those rules in place, anyone in the Tokiwadai (extramural) school dormitory would normally be

asleep.

Only one person - Shirai Kuroko - is still awake.

She's rolling around left and right in her bed.

Or, to say it accurately, it's likely that she can't sleep but won't get up.

Usually she ties her tawny hair into twin pigtails with a thin ribbon, but right now they're unfastened

and spread out on her bed. One has to look closely to see the almost-invisible lace shorts in a light-

colored extremely transparent negligee. Consequently her upper torso, from her flat chest to below her

navel, is wholly exposed; even so, she doesn't seem to care. After all, this is the girls' dorm, and even

aside from that, her roommate is special, which has strong implications.

"......"

No matter how much Shirai Kuroko rolled about, her sudden movement would invariably stop.

She looks at the bed beside her.


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The other bed is no further than 50cm away. At that short distance, another girl is fast asleep. Small

amounts of sweat stick to her shoulder-length light blond hair, her slender white figure slightly

discernable under the pale blue baggy pajamas. In this altered state, the decorative hairpin the girl

usually wears on the side of her head is now placed on the side table.

It's her beloved, Misaka Mikoto.

One of Gakuen Toshi's Seven, one of the only two Level 5s from the noted Tokiwadai Middle School,

the so-called ace of the school, the target of envy even in the school that is envied, the daring middle-

school girl, lay sideways in the bed right now.

".......nhuhuhu...... It's gonna be a penalty game, that one will have to listen to what I am saying,

yeah...."

Along with a somewhat unmistakably happy smile, these words spilled out of the sleep talkers pretty

lips. Shirai, on her bed, makes a mess of her own hair with both of hands!! As she vigorously scratches,

("Gah -- I'm worried! That Onee-sama, just what was she doing a while ago?! Ever since the

Daihaseisai was over, her mood's been entirely like this!! Just to whom is she intending to announce

those words in her dream!!")

Ze - ze - ha - ha, goes Shirai as she takes a breath. As it can be figured out from her name that Shirai

Kuroko's a girl and so is Misaka Mikoto, but there's something peculiar about the first girl.

She's a kouhai who would want to do things in a roundabout way since saying them directly would be

too unsophisticated for her.

There wouldn't be any problems if she were the target of this sleep talk, but she can't remember

mentioning anything about being serious about gambling and competing in penalty games during the

past few days. As far as she knows, whether the opponent's a boy or a girl could be a huge problem;

such were Shirai's super-individualistic thoughts.


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And as for the totally unconcerned Misaka Mikoto, she's tightly embracing her pillow as though it were

an everday occurance.

"....First off, I wonder what I will make that person do -- munya"

(Daaaaaaaaaaaammnn you!! O, Onee, you Onee-sama, why are you brushing your cheek against the

pillow!! Just what are you substituting that soft pillow for!!)

Shirai Kuroko continued rolling about left and right on her bed, her appearance wasn't that of a happy

girl.

The time is 5:25am.

After a sleepless night,another day is about to start.

Chapter 1: Sunny morning classes Winter_Clothes.

Part 1

September 30.

It's the last day of September, and the schools in Academy City should be going through their morning

classes; but they are not. The reason for this is simple: tomorrow the majority of students will undergo

a change of seasonal clothes.

Academy City, a re-development of west Tokyo boasting of an area sized 1/3 of the metropolis, has

about 1.8 million students. Even a single change in the uniforms would make the clothing industries

very busy.

With the substantial amounts of orders and measurements finished around Daihaseisai, today is


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delivery date for the new winter clothes. However, even if all orders are finished, you will still

probably see chaos occurring on a grand scale. Also, considering the importance of acclimating to the

new clothing, today is the customary day for students to start wearing winter clothing.

But for students unrelated to the seasonal change in clothes, there are only the morning classes.

As an example, Kamijou Touma is one such lad. A student in a certain high school, if he were to wear

the winter clothing he bought during the school's opening there wouldn't be many problems with the

size. Thus there is no reason for him to join in the chaos.

He's not the only person, since it can depend on one's year level. Those involved in the chaos are

mainly the 2nd and 3rd years; the 1st years are generally laid-back.

Well, right now is the ten minute recess between 3rd and 4th period.

The first name to come to mind when it comes to mediocre students, Kamijou Touma opens up the

windows and absentmindedly gazes outside. Bored to death during mathematics class, as soon as the

recess bell rang he had taken the opportunity to wash his face at the drinking station to wake himself

up.

With average height and body mass, he's probably lucky enough to have a little sinew in his body. This

doesn't mean he's a member of any sports club, it's more like he got it from unhealthy back-alley brawls

and getaways. A look at his black pointed hair reveals it originated from a quick glance at a fashion

magazine, his heart's fortress imploring for him, as a high school boy, to "mind his appearance a bit."

Although, as his sleepy eyes scan the surroundings, he looks on while opening his mouth wide and

continuously yawning. He felt that that the fort's defenses were weakening.

Kamijou Touma thrusts his elbow onto the window sill and, while basking in the receding heat of the

early autumn wind, slowly murmurs,

"Haaaah... I want an encounter..."


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The instant he says that, his temples are hit from both sides by fists, crushing his head in a vise-like

grip.

Idiots! a loud voice screams.

Standing on the right is Tsuchimikado Motoharu; on the left, Aokami Pierce.

They were Kamijou Touma's classmates.

"Bah, what the hell are you doing--?!"

Kamijou let that question out as his head was swung around like a bell being rung, and Tsuchimikado's

pupils twinkled behind his sunglasses,

"...Nyaa. We only hear sarcasm from what Kami-yan's saying!"

"When you invoke those words, a weird girl appears tumbling along from some classroom door. Aah

yes, it always happens to you! If it's Kami-yan, then it seems like it could be anything from a super

robot girl to a onee-san type fairy of the spring!!"

As always, he doesn't comprehend what they're saying, but there's no ill intent for now.

Kamijou and his group are all wearing the same black slacks with stand-up collars. With Kamijou's

upper garment mostly unbuttoned, a red t-shirt is revealed from within. Of course, by all rights it's a Y-

shirt (TL: obscene shirt? it could be a bad pun) he's wearing, but as soon as one realizes that

Tsuchimikado and Aokami Pierce have a habit for putting necklaces on as well as their blond hair, what

Kamijou wears as a school tradition is not given much attention.

"Then, you two, what are you over here for?"

"Right, right, here, have a quick look." said Aokami Pierce.

He handed over a well-selling weekly manga magazine. For it to be used and not thrown away, a so-

called "friendship" must exist.


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Aokami Pierce flips over the manga magazine's back pages.

There, written all over are the colorful advertisements for mail-order goods.

"Hey, look at this particular column, you'll find something by 'Holder-kun, the shoulder masseuse

(Note: massagist).'"

"Eh?"

"I'm worrying about something. You see, there's some mysterious pain around my right shoulder, and

when I flex my left shoulder, sometimes it hurts."

In an exceedingly small sample photograph, a plastic U-shaped tool is shown. Its size is probably

around 15-20cm. The U-section is probably inserted directly over the shoulder. It appears that buying

two of these would be much more economical.

"Oh yeah, this was advertised in a late-night mail-order TV program."

"That's right! With such a flashy introduction, I'm certain that this shoulder massage machine will make

me feel really good!!"

"Eh ---"

Tsuchimikado lets out a suspicious-sounding voice.

"That's probably a bluff. Especially since 'good feeling or bad feeling' or such doesn't translate to hard

numbers, didn't they leave out the 'all test members responded positively' line? Dont you know that

punch line, nya--?"

"Keh-! For you who is massaged by your imouto (TL: younger sister-in-law) every single day, you

have no idea about my plight!!"

"Not every day, it's about one in three days, nya--!!"

With the topic and direction of this conversation on the brink of totally changing direction with that


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statement, this is no idle talk, so thats why the two of them wanted me to decide for them, thought

Kamijou as he leaned his neck back.

However, the pair said something.

"Then, what does Kami-yan think? I definitely think it's really effective, no?"

"No, I think that is the voice of temptation that is telling you that, nya-"

In short, the two of them cannot decide for themselves, so they want a third opinion, a dumbstruck

Kamijou thought.

In the first place, why the two of them so engrossed with a shoulder-massage machine?

"'Kay, I'm not really a shoulder masseuse, but whatever you're saying borders on persuasion. If that

happens, the significance of majority rule will be totally lost."

"Uh, doesn't that mean you can't use it like that, you incompetent fool!!"

"Don't say stuff if you're not using it!!"

Impulsive replies... I see, this is Aokami Pierce and Tsuchimikado's persuasive climax, thought Kamijou

as he belatedly realized it.

And now, he even realized that what he's joining on is probably a quarrel.

"....Well, I don't think it would be effective for me. Even if you use the term 'shoulder pain,' the degree

and location of the pain vary depending on the person, and aren't those even different between men and

women? The people who brought everyone together and told them 'it will totally eliminate stiff

shoulders!!' are a bit suspicious."

"Now did you see, nya-. As I thought, for stiff shoulders, my imouto really is the best, hm?"

"You'll never understand anything until you've tried it!"

In the first place, I'm bothered about girls not giving shoulder massages!! Aokami Pierce shouted, as


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he exchanged blows with Tsuchimikado. In response to this unproductive quarrel before him, Kamijou,

as the neutral party,

"I see what you mean."

He says that while separating Aokami Pierce and Tsuchimikado.

"If that's the case, after this, we should do the real thing. Someone with constant shoulder pain, as well

as a weakness for mail-order goods, I know a person like that."

Part 2

In Kamijou's class, there was a Fukiyose Seiri.

She gained a strong sense of responsibility from when she worked at the executive committee of the

Daihaseisai until a few days ago. She has black hair distinctly parted and hanging by her ears, and her

bust is somewhat big for a student. A stickler for the rules, even though it was still recess she had

already put her books and notebooks for the next class onto her desk. Her sailor uniform is of the long-

sleeved variant and, except for her somewhat short skirt, everything from her scarf to her indoor shoes

are exactly to her measurements.

Incidentally, she's into collecting mail-ordered health goods.

That that is her weak spot, no one aside from a certain lad knows this fact.

At the moment, rather than hastily trading homework notes or anything like that, Fukiyose Seiri was

sitting in her seat, idly chatting with her neighboring classmate, Himegami Aisa, when...

"Is Fukiyose here---?!"

*Wham!!* As the classroom door opened in an instant, the scream coming from it makes the girls jump

back a little. The opponents are Kamijou, Aokami and Tsuchimikado, the so-called Three Class Idiots

(Delta Force). Given the frequent troubles caused by the three of them to date, Fukiyose strongly vows


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to herself that she'll stay in control no matter what happens, but the first thing Kamijou says is,

"For Christ's sake, rub me, Fukiyose!!"

*Snap*, the busty girl hears that strange sound coming from her head immediately.

Self-control, before that word even crosses her mind, she counter-strikes Tsuchimikado Motoharu and

Aokami Pierce, who had just jumped in, with righteous fists; she then strikes Kamijou Touma (who had

stiffened when he saw the two of them get mowed down) solidly on his forehead, knocking him down.

As the victorious Fukiyose looks down at the scoundrels rolling about while clapping her hands

together to get the dust off them, the 135cm tall teacher Tsukiyomi Komoe enters the classroom and

heads over there.


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"Well then class, today's final lesson will be from the chemistry teacher and.... Gaah?! The

heartwarming classroom has completely turned into a no-holds-barred delinquents' battleground--?"

Fukiyose, extremely cool-faced, turns to Komoe-sensei, who has completely lost her mind at the sight

of the horrible disaster, and states,

"For sake of peace."

"Just what the hell happened? Fukiyose-chan has become the peacekeeping force?!"

Uuuhhh, as Komoe-sensei is on the verge of tears, Kamijou groans loudly.

Kamijou, as he lay collapsed on the floor,

"S, sensei... No one's particularly to blame here..."

"Then why must this happen--?!"

For the grieving Komoe-sensei, Kamijou staggeringly points somewhere a little ways below Fukiyose

Seiri's head and,

"....but, Fukiyose just wouldn't rub me at all even with those wonderfully good 'things' she's carrying!!"

In that single line, a visibly reddened Komoe-sensei falls backwards with a thud; without even looking

over to check if Komoe-sensei had fainted, Fukiyose Seiri clenches her vengeful fists and slowly

approaches him.

Part 3

There were four girls in the hospital.

Given that it was so far away from the corridor linking the entrance and the sickrooms, although not

off-limits, it was still not a place where people would normally come. Names for areas like this such as

"Clinical Research Area" or "Inner Hospital" would be exaggerations. Sunlight that can make one feel


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warm all over came in from the windows.

The four girls were in this corridor.

The four of them all have the same shoulder-length light brown hair and an almost transparent white

complexion. From the shape of their eyes, the irises, down to the retinas, all of them are exactly the

same, no difference in silhouette. Their garments are grey pleated skirts in short-sleeved white blouses

and sleeveless summer sweaters, even though it's a bit late for a Tokiwadai Middle Schooler's summer

wear.

The girls have various names to call themselves.

The Sisters.

Radio Noise.

Level 5 military-use mass production models.

Their lifespan have been reduced thanks to gene manipulation, drug therapy and accelerated growth

methods. To break them from this deadlock they have received various treatments in the hospital; this is

the reason why they're heading to the second floor today.

Until now they've been in the hospital, but from here on they'll be going out to be rehabilitated little by

little.

It's for this that the frog-faced doctor has been talking to the Sisters.

He's holding a small clipboard not too different from what a waiter would carry.

"Well, I wonder if it's okay to use Tokiwadai Middle's winter gear for your outdoor gear."

"No problem, as Misaka 10032 would reply."

One of the four girls replied.

The girls have no names, only serial numbers to differentiate themselves. This is no decision of the


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frog-faced doctor; it was probably decided way before, in the manufacturing stages.

"I wonder if it's okay to measure up all four of you."

The doctor said that while writing down the [Order] on the clipboard.

For that question, the four Sisters did not even exchange glances, with faces saying the obvious,

"No separate measurements, only one measurement, as Misaka 10032 would answer."

"All Misakas were manufactured from the same gene pool!! For we are mass models, as Misaka 13577

would complement."

"We were created like that, no need to think about things like size differences, as Misaka 10039 would

conclude."

"Mi, Misaka ..."

Only the last one was hesitant.

" " " .......? " " "

As the three Sisters look back at the one speaking inarticulately, Serial Number 19090 averts her eyes

and shrinks down. Using both her hands, her intention of hiding herself, especially her upper body, was

clear.

Number 10032 --- the girl called Misaka-imouto by a certain lad, showing a slight suspicion in her

eyes, approaches Number 19090 as if on impulse.

Then, making two fists with her thumbs sticking straight out, Misaka-imouto turns her fists thumbs-

down before plunging them both into the gap between Number 19090's skirt and body.

"Ehh!? The spec sheets should have been exact, and yet there is allowance for two more thumbs, as

Misaka 10032 would urgently report!!"

"All Misakas should have been as one and yet there is this, as Misaka 13577 would reveal her shock!"


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"The waist too, but what about the rest, as Misaka 10039 would coolly propose a thorough

examination."

Following up upon those words, Misaka 10032 pulls out her thumbs and moves upwards, but Misaka

19090 uses both her hands to intercept. It seems that another difference is that she shows a greater

range of emotion, seeing as how her face is blushing ever so slightly.

The frog-faced doctor, with an amazed face,

"Though you're like identical twins, differences in diet and exercise will lead to individual

temperaments and physiques, right? Human clones developing different figures are not strange at all."

Dammit, I've said too much, thought the doctor regretfully.

Slender females are superior, and the possibility of a man choosing a superior woman is greater -- this

was the knowledge taught to them, and what has it led to now? These are only the frog-faced doctor's

biased tastes, but as the Sisters have met very few men, for them 'Doctor Frog-face' = 'normal man,' and

they apparently came to the conclusion "If this guy says so, wouldn't that high school student think so

too? As Misaka would think deeply and speak unintelligibly."

And ever since they began acting on their own judgment, notions like "in this world there is a 'special

ring' you put on your ring finger, and everything seems to be better as long as one has that" have

emerged - do these develop out of thin air? Their common sense, which can't tell whether things like

that are right or wrong, is setting its foundations, as little by little the Sisters' individuality is beginning

to manifest (although they themselves are less aware of this than anyone else around)."

"In other words, she is keeping it secret from other Misakas that she's doing secret, stealthy, unclean

behavior (a diet), as Misaka 10032 would follow up?"

"That controller of Misakas, Misaka 20001 (Last Order), just what is she doing, as Misaka 13577

would use missions or roles as words."


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"Perhaps the thinner one didn't know what the efforts and the purpose of her actions were for, as

Misaka 10039 would calmly conjecture."

While the three Sisters were in the middle of a quarrel amongst themselves, the frog-faced doctor

continued to say,

"But isn't what you're doing exciting? All of you are the same person, so what happened to Number

19090 would happen to all of you too, and a uniform alteration would probably be needed, you know."

" " " ......!!! " " "

Suddenly, the three Sisters hurriedly turn around to face the remaining Sister.

One step ahead of the rest, Misaka 19090 (the one possessing a weight reduction technique) is slowly

retreating,

"Misaka, in accordance with self-survival protocols, will now escape! As Misaka would ----!!"

Before her scream ends, the Sisters jump on her.

Part 4

In the same hospital where the Sisters were rampaging, there was a lady named Yoshikawa Kikyou.

She was a former member of the research group tasked to [Experiment], design, and designate an

Absolute Power (Level 6) on top of Academy City's current classification system of Idiot (Level 0),

Imbecile (Level 1), Extraordinary Power (Level 2), Strong Power (Level 3), Great Power (Level 4),

and Super Power (Level 5).

A self-declared "not kind but sweet" character, she manufactured a little over 20,000 clones, over half

of which she killed in the process of the [Experiment]. In truth she simply handed them to the Level 6

candidate, a certain Level 5 student, but she cannot use that as an excuse.


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For now the [Experiment], due to fatal defects that were present, was not merely frozen but

discontinued entirely.

But that doesn't mean that everything related to the [Experiment] up to that point is completely erased.

The girls created only to be destroyed, and the ESPer ordered to destroy them ... Though special

conditioning and physical constitutions were acquired, they were still only children. Not to mention the

unspeakable mental stress that was most likely weighing down on them. Of course; individual matters,

personal disagreements, human relations, etc, have all been put to an abrupt end in single, catastrophic

moment. When she normally thinks about it, she'll never be able to do anything like 'create' again.

But then.

"Never--! says Misaka as Misaka would refuse! 'Not coming down, definitely not coming down from

Misaka's position on this sports bag!' says Misaka as Misaka squatting on your carrying bag would

strongly protest!!"

"You ...!! Don't sit in bags being carried by someone else's shoulders, you lil' bastard!! Have you

forgotten that that someone is still recuperating?"

The victims in question are in good spirits today, too, thought Yoshikawa.

The [Predator] called Accelerator has a modernistic tonfa-looking walking stick in his right hand, the

shoulder strap of the sports bag is hanging from his left shoulder as he stands unsteadily. Pale-haired

and red-eyed, today he's wearing gray-colored clothes.

The [Prey] called Last Order is squatting on top of the sports bag, holding herself up with both of her

hands on the shoulder straps like a swing. Since she has the body of a 10 year-old, this technique's

possible to maintain, although it is difficult for Accelator who is carrying the bag while also holding a

cane. With shoulder-length light brown hair and pupils of the same color, she's wearing a man's Y-shirt

on top of a sky-blue camisole.


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Accelerator had taken a bullet to the forehead and was taken to the hospital on August 31, and a month

has passed before he was finally discharged. Strictly speaking, his body has not recovered; more

accurately, all the treatment so far was simply first aid. But because of the broken skull fragments, the

injured part of his brain is being cut off; even now his current situation forces him to compensate for

that part of his brain functions by means of a choker-like electrode in his head. Without it, he cannot

perform language communication or even stand on his own. Well, with that degree of injury on him,

simply returning to a normal life is a miracle in itself.

With these circumstances, they are standing in the hospital's front door.

By all accounts, Yoshikawa should have taken that bullet; with her physical condition, she's in no

condition to look after children, but even so, she took up the role.

This is not because she had to do it.

This is because she wanted to do it.

"Right, right. If you play in the entrance we might disturb other people. If that's the case, we should

drop off the baggage first, and then we can play."

"Misaka is not playing! While Misaka is pushing down the bag's center, Misaka is protesting with a

serious face!!"

"If this tickling-like sensation ain't play, then what the hell is it, you!"

The sports bag is about to break, Accelerator shouts. Yoshikawa, ignoring this exchange, drifts a ways

from the doorway and waves lightly to a waiting taxi driver.

The taxi slides effortlessly towards their direction.

Accelerator hoists the luggage with Last Order on it to the driver and,

"I'm gonna jam this all in the trunk, open it up."


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"You treat Misaka as luggage!? Says Misaka as Misaka trembles with fear and dives for the back

seat!!"

Accelerator throws the sports bag into the backseat, squashing in Last Order, before sitting down in the

empty space.

The back seat still has space for another person, but Yoshikawa heads to the assistant driver's seat to

avoid getting dragged into the slapstick argument.

Just to be sure, she tells the driver in advance.

"They've just gotten out of the hospital, so set the air in here to high."

"Ahaha. They're kids, so they should be healthy enough."

"The little one behind you isn't accustomed to the air inside a car, so she might vomit."

"!!!?"

The driver turns to the back in surprise. Oh, a newbie, Yoshikawa comes to that impromptu evaluation.

She knew that Accelerator's holding down the sports bag, so the banging sound is only coming from

Accelerator keeping himself separate from Last Order. The point is, because of what Yoshikawa said

abruptly in advance, they'll have a smoother drive, though it appears that's not much for a major

underhanded trick like this.

The taxi smoothly departs as if transporting raw eggs.

Yoshikawa informs the driver of their destination, and checks the digital clock on top of the meter; it'll

be noon soon.

Truly believing that she might vomit soon, Accelerator keeps the head of the approaching Last Order

away from him, and looks dubiously at the back of Yoshikawa's head.

"Where are we going?"


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"There is a school where my acquaintance works. It'll be like an appointment. You, will you be

dropping out of your school? I know what that means to you, right."

Students residing at Academy City use the dormitories. There are even those who stay for free at places

like the town bakeries, but that's extremely rare.

Being away from the boundaries of this town's schools (actually an ESPer R&D organization

comprising of schools), it is often forgotten that these residences serve as dormitories at the same time.

Accelerator has no attachment to residences, since he was always targeted by Academy City's

delinquents and even had his dorm's room destroyed by them. Since even the furniture has most likely

been totally destroyed, it has no worth to it. But to lose a place with a roof is, of course, still a big deal.

Even though he knows that risk, Accelerators still choosing to drop out from school means,

"..... For all that Level 6 stuff, sorry, I'm not involved in that anymore."

For the time being, in indirect terms, the organization that performed the [Experiment] is already

disbanded. But even if the research center that used the Sisters is gone, it doesn't mean the curse is

lifted. Even in the school he went to, there still exists a totally separate structure called the "Special

Development Laboratory (special class)." With him as the only student, it's basically a rectangular

space serving as an isolated incubation grounds for experimental animals.

To separate himself from this blood-soaked world, he has to throw everything away. Research center,

school, dormitory and everything else.

This time he has no choice but to choose a school that is not "strong-willed." Before the all-too-

fascinating research subject like Accelerator, who knows if there is a researcher whose eyes won't glow,

but he has to search for one.

For the all-too-special targets Accelerator and Last Order, there is nowhere to go outside of Academy


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City.

Unless they go back to an Academy City school, they have to spend the rest of their days in the back

alleys like the armed Level 0 group (Skill out). Should Academy City's strongest of the Level 5s choose

that, everything he holds dear will be destroyed.

Accelerator twists his lips,

"Then, is the control handed down to you by the decision of the board of directors? Well, if it's you,

you'll still be following orders, even if it's your own research area, I think."

Yoshikawa was once a research member involved in the [Experiment], and aside from manufacturing

Last Order and the clones, she also performed Accelerator's maintenance routines.

Even with research related to Level 6 terminated, he's still Academy City's strongest Level 5, a

fascinating research material. According to various investigations from Yoshikawa, if the new ESP

development techniques were applied, vast benefits could be acquired.

No matter how far away he goes, he continues to feel someone else's expectations and influence over

him.

Well, most people who have encountered Accelerator thus far are those consumed by a single heretical

word. If he feels he can escape from the curse of such adults by lending Yoshikawa the right to decide

his activities in advance, it will be somewhat easy for him to. Of course, should he disagree with her

methods he could just smash her up and try another way, but then...

"Wrong"

Yoshikawa Kikyou said that single word without turning around.

"Ah?"

"I'm not your next handler, as you would say. Please think about this carefully. Right now, Yoshikawa


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Kikyou, with the research group over, is on the verge of unemployment. Furthermore, I was involved in

the [Experiment] and twice in cases in which you played a central role. If you think of this as some

guardianship role, then the board of directors will immediately fire every one of us."

"... then what're you here for? You must be a mere messenger. Which means after this, youll hand us to

some unknown researcher?"

"Suspicious, eh? Well, it's to be expected, considering your past living environment. But, let me point

out two mistakes in your prediction. First, I intend to hand you over someone you know, and second,

that person is not from the research bureau."

"--------,"

Accelerator narrows his eyes as he carefully thinks over Yoshikawa's words.

I can't believe this.

He's not being tormented by the brat's presence sitting beside him, so even with this degree of a

handicap he could smash up an opponent. Since he's seen his opponent's face before, smashing him up

right here is quicker and easier than being on the lookout for an unseen opponent.

(....this is getting boring.)

And.

Towards her, the totally innocent Last Order says.

"The only known non-researcher is Yomikawa, maybe, says Misaka as Misaka raises her hands in

surrender and utters."

"Correct."

Yoshikawa answers bemusedly.

Yomikawa is one of Yoshikawa's few "public friends," a female member of Academy City's Anti-skill.


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When Yoshikawa was downed by a bullet, she was the jersey girl watching over Accelerator and Last

Order in the hospital room.

Accelerator, unable to think of that possibility until it was said, lets out a soft clicking sound.

Yoshikawa, on hearing that, inquires.

"Oh dear, even when our exchange is over we're still tense, are we?"

".... If you're like that, it's fine if I listen to your words more carefully."

"Well, I can understand that you are trying to decide whether or not it's a lie, since in your case your

habit of staying vigilant against someone's sweet words is probably a prudent action as can be.

Especially if you know the value of the one you're protecting."

Yoshikawa could not stand it any longer. Accelerator, hoping to turn his gaze away from the assistant

driver's seat, turns his eyes to the view outside the car window. Only Last Order, unable to notice the

tension between them, continues saying "Eh? Isn't it Yomikawa? As Misaka forcefully pulls your

shoulders."

Part 5

By noon, school was over.

For Kamijou, who has no particular club activity to participate in, afternoons are spent returning to his

dorm.

He slips on his shoes at the shoe racks, and as he trudges to the outer school grounds,

"I wonder what went wrong ..."

He coughed.

Of course, he's thinking about the head-butting relationship between massagers and Fukiyose Seiri.


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(Hmmmm. Is it like I think, and 'rub me, Fukiyose' is a bit over-familiar? But then after that, even

'please rub me, Fukiyose-sama' led to me being hit; what's more, when I start over with 'My dear, the

autumn colors are deepening, are they not~~~' I get sent flying with a headbutt, just what did I do to

hurt her feelings?)

Basically, this lad is accustomed to bad luck befalling him, and because of this, his body has been

beaten until it's strong enough to take on direct hits without needing bandages afterward. Always

having his head chomped on by a hungry girl, Kamijou Touma's stamina must be really something.

In this manner, paying no attention to his surroundings and thinking endlessly of stuff like "I shouldn't

try introductions with nonchalant seasonal words," Kamijou walks through Academy City's orderly

townscape.

Since it's September 30, the remaining summer heat has been dissolving. The wind rotating the wind-

powered propellers render air conditioning useless in a department store; even the weather report

altered the projection on the large display attached to the side of said store from "beware of heatstroke"

to "seasonal change, take care of your physical condition;" in a single word, change.

With that situation,

"Ouchouchdammitthathurtsyouknow!!"

A girl's words, which would thoroughly prove to a language critic that Japanese nowadays is getting

confusing, are coming for Kamijou.

As Kamijou turns to where it's coming from, a good-looking girl (supposedly) from the well-known

Tokiwadai Middle School is dashing towards him at high speed.

Misaka Mikoto.

With shoulder-length light brown hair, she's shorter than Kamijou by about 7cm. Having departed from

her summer wear, she's now wearing a beige blazer and a checkered pleated skirt. She should have


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received her brand-new set of winter gear yesterday, but already the skirt is getting short for her. Quite

ladylike, as aside from a very light bag, she's also carrying an instrument case that could contain a

violin.

When Kamijou sees her face, he said with a bored expression,

"Ah you. Well, this again. ---- Bad luck ----"

"Why is that your reaction when you see someone's face?!!"

Gyaaa! goes Mikoto, making a ruckus. Incidentally, although Kamijou received a fist and a head butt

from Fukiyose Seiri this morning, the disaster impact was probably stronger here. From this girl called

the Railgun, it's probably natural that he'll continue to receive lightning bolts and whatnot.

While Kamijou heaves up his school bag as if it's heavy (even though it's really very light),

"You have business with me? Then make it quick. If we can do it, we'll do it while we walk. Or is it

okay that I return home instead?"

"I'd prefer it if you put me on a pedestal rather than dealing with me like I'm a pest, no matter what you

feel...", as Misaka slightly inclines her head sideways, her lips twist wickedly, "or should I say, you

didn't expect that I would won the privilege to make you listen to such outrageous demands, I

wonder---?"

"Eh?"

Kamijou, for some reason feeling some wicked intent behind Mikoto's flat words, tries to slowly

increase his distance from the girl.

At that point, the ace of Tokiwadai Middle School, the lady with irreproachable conduct (it's worrying

if she's not like that), grabs his arms and simply says,

"Penalty game~~"


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Kamijou Touma's eyebrows twitched.

Penalty game, this means it is related to the "bet" between Kamijou and Mikoto done on September

19th, the opening of Academy City's 7-day all-school athletic festival, Daihaseisai. Simply put, it

stipulates that the low-ranked will listen to what the high-ranked opponent says.

Academy City, being an ESPer development city, approves the usage of ESPer powers in their athletic

festivals. Thus, everyone from Tokiwadai Middle School uses everything from a high-current lightning

bolt of several hundred million volts to a wall of 80m/s wind, mowing down the opposing students;

natural disasteresque tactics like these were quickly adopted.

Kamijou's a high school student while Mikoto's a middle school student, but age difference and such

mean nothing in the front of Mother Nature's menace, so by day 3 of the confrontation they were

thoroughly worn out. Furthermore, Kamijou, Tsuchimikado, Himegami, Fukiyose and the rest of the

members were injured thanks to the confusion on the Daihaseisai's opening day. This meant they were

defeated due to the various problems piling one on top of the other. Under such conditions, they

couldn't do what they had intended against Tokiwadai Middle School.

But, a loss is a loss.

With everything told, Misaka Mikoto's "penalty game" proposal was to follow the winner's every

instruction thoroughly, but then,

"Wha-? I can't exactly recall, but is that still valid?"

"Hey, don't just let it pass by on your own! In any case, I want you to really listen to anything I say!

Mister, you should be thankful to Mikoto-san that interest is not included!!"

A visibly triumphant Mikoto puffs up with pride.

Students passing through the main street were turning to them with "what? what?" kind of looks.


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No matter her appearance, it looks like she's feeling bottled-up the resentment of "this should have been

done earlier, but Kamijou was probably either in the hospital or traveling to Italy" that's ready to

explode. 'No interest,' he murmured, but he kept silent as a mature adult would.

Kamijou let out a sigh,

"Well, fine by me in that case. Do you know what I'm capable of?"

"Hmmm. Are you trying to say you're going to cheat your way out of this?"

"Well, that's not what I meant."

"I see. You mean ordinary stuff that a normal person like you can do; if it's only that, I don't really

know. Ah, don't worry, the wonderful Mikoto-san will really consider it if circumstances say you can't

do it. Since I don't intend to ask for absurdly impossible tasks, how about if you, a normal person, work

hard like a normal person ---?"

"-------,"

*Snap* Kamijou hears that strange sound come from his forehead.

Generally if this happens nothing good can come out of it, and Kamijou Touma, though he can silently

understand what that was about, is no wise honor student.

"I got it."

Mikoto manages to breathe a sigh of relief at the downward-looking Kamijou's defeatist response.

But then.

Suddenly, he raises his downturned head; gazing into Mikoto's face, he starts speaking with all his

might,

"Very well!! In that case, your beloved slave, Kamijou Touma, will follow your every order!!"

The crowd's movement suddenly stopped.


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The crowd begins exchanging whispers as they alternately look at Kamijou, the speaker, and Mikoto,

the listener. Several seconds elapsed before the crowd backs off in a thunderous wave from where

Kamijou and Mikoto are standing.

"Ha....? What, slave, EEEH!? What are you saying?!!"

Though he was well aware that blood was rising to Mikoto's face in an unrivaled fashion, he wasn't the

sort of nice guy who would let her off with just that.

As Kamijou respectfully kneeled on the spot, he pulled out a thin desk pad from inside his light

schoolbag, and with a no-nonsense, totally serious look, lightly fanned her,

"The basics, I thought, were to get the pleasantries in order, Ojou-sama. As I, Kamijou Touma, have

lack of experience in this, I beg your pardon for the trouble I may cause you."

"Wait, you idiot!! You're getting into it too easily, and don't fan below my skirt with all your strength!!"

Mikoto's pale face reddened quickly, in addition to shouting while pushing down her short skirt down

with both hands. Whether she's wearing short pants underneath is probably an emotional question.

And, at that time,

"Onee-sama!!"

A twin-pigtailed blazer-wearing girl, Shirai Kuroko, vigorously jumps in, breaking through the crowd.

"T-this is ...?!"

Normally when Kuroko arrives she will embrace Mikoto or simply grope her with both of her hands,

but today is limited to Kuroko's upper half being totally knocked back as though she had struck an

invisible barrier before she could close in on Mikoto. She's most likely considerably shocked by the

grand spectacle before her.

"Ku, Kuroko?"


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Mikoto, with an older boy publicly kneeling at her feet while fanning her (how it appears), moves only

her head with a stiff face to face her kouhai.

But Shirai Kuroko appears not to hear her beloved onee-samas' voice, as her little frame is shaking all

over.

Her eyes, they're concentrated only on Kamijou Touma, who's currently showing his unrequited

devotion (from her perspective).

The girl then spoke,

"W-what a manly, frank, subservient attitude.... But that role was and is mine and mine alone!!"

In Shirai's eyes are envy, jealousy and a slight gleam of respect.

"Stop it you idiots!! Don't go prostrating yourselves! What's with this ritual, am I the leader of a

religious cult or something?!!"

Misaka Mikoto shouted, but she can't stop shaking in horror because Shirai Kuroko, out of ideas to

counter Kamijou Touma's mindless fanning from below, is formally confirming the presence of a

formidable enemy.

Part 6

Tsukuyomi Komoe breathed tiredly in the staff room.

The 135cm tall 12 year-old-looking teacher looked unusually tired; that is understandable, though. It

could be from the chaotic affair between the students this morning (granted, they may not stand out

compared Kamijou Touma, but if she thinks about the student activities that time, it was quite chaotic),

but there are other reasons too.

"They" are scattered about on top of her steel desk.


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There, on cheaply printed paper, hopes and aspirations questionnaires were filled in. Normally detailed

investigations at the 1st year level were considerably inaccurate, so they could only rely only to

questions like "What would you want to do in the future?" Usually, they answer with specifics like

higher education or employment, so if it's higher education which department of what university they're

aiming for, if it's employment which process they're using for what corporation they're aiming at; what

they wrote about is their immediate future ahead of them.

But then.

"Haaaaaah----...."

Komoe-sensei was naturally greatly troubled.

The reasons are that Tsuchimikado Motoharu wrote "I want to go to the land of maids. There I will

instigate a coup dtat, make myself the tactician, and make the unhappy maid as the empress" in

extremely serious handwriting, while Aokami Pierce wrote "I want to be popular" starting from the

questionnaire frame in large letters that jut out of bounds, and Kamijou Touma wrote "If it will make

me lucky, then anything is fine" in a tear-inducing, compelling-wish style.

(Youth nowadays have a tendency to lack will for specific work, like some famous person said, but I

have a hunch that this is a bit different...)

Perhaps they just have no interest in questionnaires, but that doesn't mean they used their mechanical

pencils half-heartedly, they may have filled this out decisively and seriously, it was for this reason that

she's totally worried.

Yomikawa Aiho came over to where Komoe-sensei is.

"Yo--. Sensei, for a change of pace which is better, tobacco or alcohol-?"

"Alcohol is prohibited while working, you know...."


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While Yomikawa quickly digs through Komoe-sensei's desk,

"Tobacco, then--"

Komoe-sensei takes one cigarette from Yomikawa's tobacco pack being offered and places it in her

mouth,

"Huh? Somehow this one tastes like it's a high-grade one?"

"Ah, that one, it's the latest from the tobacco bar. It is high-grade stuff at 70 a cigarette!"

Recently, despite non-smoking areas expanding, tobacco specialty shops are being put up at an

accelerating rate. It is no longer rare to see a shop with a collection of tobacco from every country

rather than cocktails. A far cry from a 70 cigarette, South American cigars can reach up to 3000.

Schools are usually mandated as no-smoking zones, but in Academy City cases of smoking being

unexpectedly allowed inside schools are numerous. The cases mainly occur in schools where teachers

are serving as researchers in multiple fields, where them totally losing concentration is a source of

concern, as that could shift the advantages and disadvantages for the entire Academy City population;

this was the result of deliberation from the board of directors.

Each apparatus used to filter this can only take in air from one direction. But when four of them are

running, the air on top of the desk whirls around similar to rotations done in washing machines. The

airflow is not strong enough to move even one thin sheet of paper, but it is enough to suck in tobacco

smoke, filter it, and spit the clear air back out. The latest model is a practical application of

aerodynamics, which is also able to keep the costs down enough to enable free distribution; it is a

genuine domestic item.

"Here we go--"

Komoe-sensei turns on the air purifying machines with a switch fixed at the end of her desk.


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As Yomikawa Aiho, unbelievably big-busted and clad in a green jersey, also places a cigarette into her

mouth, she lights up a little lighter found on Komoe-sensei's desk,

"This is probably a rare Belgian product, but.... Eh. This one's not bad. This one ain't good; I can't get it

to taste fine!"

"Yomikawa-sensei, you're getting dull because you keep chain-smoking cigarettes without even

relishing them--"

"The one who smokes five times as many as me in a day, Komoe-sensei the White Smoker, shouldn't

say that."

Buha--, the two of them blow the smoke against the surface of the table.

The whitish smoke that hit the table scatters about here and there, but soon stops moving as if it hit an

invisible barrier around the table edges, before swirling up round and round and being sucked in by the

four corners of the desk.

Since the air cleaners only benefit the *top* of the desk, the sitting Komoe-sensei, despite her

slouching towards Yomikawa, has to keep her face pointed towards the desk's top. There's still much

room for improvement in this area.

"Looks like the price of tobacco has risen again. I'm sure this will break the teachers' hearts."

"It's still not the choice of many, you know, compared to sweets or manga."

Students comprise 80% of Academy City's populace. Even if the university students are excluded,

those allowed to drink or smoke are surprisingly few. Even so, the current status is such that that when

taxes on them are collected, the income rises significantly. Consequently, taxation on the alcohol and

tobacco-indulging youth was Academy City's unwritten agreement.

Basically, this city is essentially a place for academia; taxing non-essential goods and luxury items


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poses no problems due to the system. In exchange, Academy City generally charges dorm rent and

meal rates and the like (such as Academy City's trial products) at rock-bottom rates, so eventually

things break even. Well, there are schools that still profit from school buses, teaching materials and the

like.

"But for the students' living expenses, the stipends and subsidies from Academy City are not much. It

somehow feels like a roundabout method."

"If the direct scholarship subsidies were to decrease, there would be a flood of complaints. It's just like

when the reactions to "tobacco taxation" and "salary cuts" are completely different even though the

money is earmarked for the same purpose."

That can't be right, Yomikawa thinks as she taps her cigarette, the end already gathering ashes, onto a

portable ashtray she brought out of her jersey pocket earlier.

And, Yomikawa then noticed something.

Komoe-sensei's cigarette hanging onto on the edge of her lips was slowly swinging up and down.

A habit she hasn't been doing until now.

"Hahaha, that's from the usual style of that smoking priest, Komoe-sensei."

*Flinch* Komoe-sensei's shoulders move in an exaggerated way.

She, in her confusion, moves her cigarette from the edge of her lips back to the middle.

"T-that cannot be!? Come on, Yomikawa-sensei, just what are you saying? There's no way that I do

things like changing habits--!"

"It's fine to be change, though."

Against Komoe-sensei hardening up her perfect defense stance, Yomikawa quickly backed down.

Komoe-sensei's expression shows her disappointment.


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Rrrgh, Yomikawa vents smoke towards the still-vigilant Komoe-sensei,

"Well, then. In any case, we shall be going soon?"

"Ah, are the children you were talking about coming soon--?"

"They're the ones. I don't usually take in burdensome cases, but, well, this stupid case was my choice.

It's no fun when everyone in my class is an honor student, you know."

"Hey wait! Our cigarettes are still long, come on, let's sit and finish this for a little longer--!"

Taking into account that the staff room is technically still a non-smoking zone, Komoe-sensei grabs

Yomikawa-sensei's hand.

A few minutes later, as soon as she's done smoking by the filter, Komoe-sensei leaves the staff room,

carried off by the jersey-wearing gymnastics teacher.

Part 7

He hears the sound of the taxi engine driving away from him.

Accelerator doesn't even look in that direction.

He doesn't even shift his gaze towards Last Order beside him, who is talking about something.

Nevertheless, he is captivated by the mysterious spectacle before him.

To put it in more detail, he is near the gate of a certain high school. No matter how much he looks at it,

it's exceedingly average; the said place is a concrete-and-steel school building that feels like "nothing

special," as he puts it.

But that is not the problem.

Accelerator wasn't looking at the school building.

Standing before him were two women who were teaching at that school.


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He knows the face of one person.

Her long hair bound in the back, a jersey-wearing woman. The name's Yomikawa Aiho, and she serves

in Academy City's Antiskill. Not interested in using weapons against children, this amazing so-called

gym teacher uses a shield to knock down Level 3s opponents.

But this woman is not the problem either.

Accelerator is gazing at still another person.

"W-what is it--....?

That woman's name is Tsukuyomi Komoe... if she was unlucky; she'd be shorter than even Last Order,

who's once again starting to squat awkwardly on top of his sports bag.

Accelerator thinks for a bit, as he throws another fleeting glance at the excessively short woman,

"What's this unidentified being? It was able to get in here from who knows where."

"What are you talking about? She graduated in proper time from a university and turned up here in

Academy Ci-"

With a single line that increasingly made the situation confusing, Accelerator impulsively narrows his

eyes.

After that,

"The research to slow down cell aging isn't completed yet, they say. Bullshit, so this is the true state of

the [250 year method] that was rumored during the days of the [Experiment]. I was convinced that this

was still unknown to the world, but for Academy City to be this far advanced in this technology...!

"Eh, well, that's not the case, you know--"

"Or possibly because the research is incomplete, this person was a sample organism captured to

confirm those rumors, as Misaka, Misaka follows up with a slightly serious look.... Too bad, at this rate


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the experiment must be going wrong all the time, they must have no free time for quite a while, as

Misaka, Misaka is speaking with mouth stifled."

"Wait, why is it that even her self-introduction is talking about that so seriously!? Even Yomikawa-

sensei isn't laughing, please say something--!!"

With the mini-teacher all shook up, the jersey girl is rolling with laughter. Even Yoshikawa Kikyou,

who brought Accelerator and Last Order here, didn't think of bringing along such a colleague. She's

also smiling with, if one had to put it into words, an expression full of feeling, completely lacking the

risk of the fire being lit in her researcher's soul.

Yomikawa, still laughing, turns her gaze to Accelerator,

"--so this means that I, Yomikawa-sensei, will take care of you from now on. Well, there are free rooms

here, so even if you can to stay as freeloaders, there will be no problems, you know."

"Always 'temporary' to the end for all that."

Yomikawa laughs at Accelerator's disinterested voice as she squashes Komoe-sensei's head down as

Komoe-sensei says something like "I-is the misunderstanding cleared up?"

"I see, are you okay with this?" Accelerator said in an extremely normal tone. "As if you have any idea

of the situation I'm in. You're naive if you think Molotov cocktails won't fly towards you late at night.

Better hide me well; it looks like we're up against all of Academy City's ugliest and shittiest side."

"This is the reason, then?"

Yomikawa answers to this as if it's expected.

"You forgot my occupation. As the Antiskill, that's where our specialty is. Even then, I think there are

only a few naive guys who would dare attack the Antiskill's home turf. This town's chaos, it usually

only operates at a level where cannot see them, right? If they have the nerve to openly declare war,


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we're here to thwart them."

"........,"

Accelerator deliberately kept his silence, carefully scrutinizing Yomikawa's words. Only Komoe-sensei

was saying "Eh? What kind of atmosphere is this and when did it change?" as she surveyed the scene.

"No complaints when you die!"

"Fine with me."

"It's likely that 'they' will record your name in their hit list."

"It's my job to reform those delinquent groups, you know. If we show fear to the kids that need saving,

we won't even be able to do the first steps towards working with them."

Accelerator clicked his tongue.

Enough with Last Order and enough with this person; before he knew it this kind of idiocy had begun

to increase in his surroundings. If she were in this situation, she would feel as if she were sticking out

like a very sore thumb.

Yomikawa smiles at Accelerator, who looks like he's chewing on something bitter, in a way

uncharacteristic for a grown-up woman.

"Even then, it's all right. From what I've heard, it seems it's easy for me to help you, right?"

"Are you serious?"

The way Yomikawa was conversing, she talks as though she can rehabilitate him.

She may not know the reason why, but Accelerator has already directly killed upwards of 10,000

people. When this fact is being considered, maybe Yomikawa will realize how many of her words don't

apply to him.

But then.


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As if she didn't notice that fact, Yomikawa Aiho continues firing off words.

"But that's fact, isn't it? While we were saying one thing or another, when you heard the fact that you'll

be staying with me you started marking your checklist one-by-one, thwarting all the dead spots. You'll

even close down any small holes, hoping that we won't really be attacked, even if the chances are 1 in

10,000. That, in other words, means that you have the desire to protect us, right?"

"---"

Accelerator wrinkles his brow.

It's because of the immeasurable level of uncontrollable idiocy, he murmurs.

Part 8

He decided to part ways with Misaka Mikoto.

The reasons are simple, Kamijou is getting hungry, he's changed to plainclothes from his sweat-soaked

uniform, and he has to cook for himself or he can't dispose of the excessively bulky soumen.

He doesn't know the dehydrated soumen's expiration date, but Kamijou is somehow feeling that to keep

this year's soumen until next year is something he wants to avoid.

Mikoto shouted "It's only soumen, what's that about!", so Kamijou's excessive vigor in saying "Then

did you spend your days with nothing but being creative at mornings, noons, and evenings addicted

with salad soumen, pasta soumen, and udon soumen? Then I'm sending in a card box full of soumen!!"

got an OK from her while she was wincing.

Since he doesn't have so much time until the appointed time, Kamijou listlessly heads back quickly to

his own dormitory.

"Shiiit. I should have noticed sometime back that trap at the supermarket sale when the awful soumen

got cheap. With that proportion with respect to price, it's the reason nobody picked it up ...."


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Making matters worse to bad timing, right after buying up that much soumen, he got a message from

Mr. and Mrs. Kamijou who were living outside Gakuen Toshi (Well, we've hit the lottery jackpot -.

Does our Touma like soumen too?) along with a large quantity of dehydrated noodles. With this

circumstances happening every time, in a single word, he was consumed by bad luck.

Thinking of this and that, he arrives in front of his dormitory, just as Tsuchimikado Maika was leaving.

This is basically a boy's dormitory, but with the apprentice maid treated as a girlfriend coming to her

brother-in-law's room to clean it up and the starving girl rolling at Kamijou's room, lately their public

disturbances has been standing out.

The girl named Maika has many times squatted on top of a drum can-type cleaning robot, but today

she's normally walking.

With her bangs held up by those katyusha-like maid frills, her forehead is shown greatly. Her garments

is a long-sleeved something uncharacteristic for maids, it's probably a school-designated winter wear.

She's been attending a home economics school.

Kamijou sees Maika walking in short quick little steps,

"Hey. I thought you're always on top of the cleaning robot, what happened?"

"Ufu-, Well I'm in a good mood today, I don't have to depend on its calm speed --"

Even this girl's expression, which is on the level of Himegami Aisa, is hard to pin down, but today he

realized as he saw on her the face the joy emotion is a piercing flash of light. What, what, what the hell

is happening? As Kamijou turns his head away, Maika has the back of her right hand touching on her

left cheek, doing an "o-hohohohoho" high-handed maid-only gesture,

"This is it, this and that-. The cuffs did the trick-"

"Ka-fu-su?"


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"Cuffs!" Maika said while smiling. "Maids are basically forbidden from standing out you know, things

like flashy hairdo and accessories are a no-no. So by being particular about cuffs and collars, we're

discreetly showing our individuality--"

Ah is that so, said Kamijou as he watches around Maika's hand again.

It's a fold on the sleeves by the wrists. How and why it always changes, Kamijou cannot comprehend

it's merits; the point being is she like those girls pleased that their uniforms they are first supplied with

come with it's skirts shortened?

As Maika keeps on absentmindedly rubbing her tender cheeks with her own sleeve,

"Haaaah .... This term's [Gauntlets] are a huge success-. Since I'm in a good mood now, I'm willing to

listen to any of your trifling worries."

"Is that so? Very well, I'd like to know how to dispose of a vast leftover of soumen."

"Chop the boiled soumen into fine pieces, and if you mix them all in into the ingredients for harumaki

the flavor would remain unexpectedly constant. That would easily add volume to it --"

Maika answers this as she totally trotted away to somewhere. One would have expected pleasant beams

of light to be emitted here and there just by looking her back.

Kamijou gazed at that sight for a while,

".... Eh, the flavor would be totally lost when you throw anything into deep-flavored stuff you know."

As he thinks over Maika's really carelessly thrown answer, he decided to enter the student dorms as

there is no use staying here.

By getting on the dilapidated elevator and heading up to the 7th floor, after which a straight walk

through the corridor, is Kamijou's room among the lined up doors.

As he unlocks the door and enters inside, the ever-hungry Index is in the middle of the floor, lying there


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face-up. She must be getting hungry again from any way he looks at her. So as Kamijou throws the

light bag at her,

"It's soumen for today"

"Yadaa!!"

Zuban!!, the pure white habit-wearing, silver-haired girl vigorously got up. As her sparkling emerald

eyes gives out her feelings of displeasure,

"Why would Touma only serve Japanese-made noodles in this place all the way!? What kind of ritual is

this! Is this some kind of internal body regulation technique where this so-called cuisine is being

applied!?"

Index may be complaining; in practice, this is not a big problem for when the soumen has been placed

in the table it would be totally consumed as if it's really delicious. In short, it's soumen fatigue. Even if

it's called fatigue, it's only temporary at most; basically it is for this liking that it is the source of the

mood.

As Kamijou tiredly nods,

"... ... Love is tough ..."

"Touma?"

Index was examining him with a suspicious eye; Kamijou did not mind one bit.

By the way, his room as one more animal for a freeloader, that tortoise-shell cat is in the sunny veranda

basking in the sunlight. With the location with good ventilation chosen, the cat rolled up, but this a

place where the season changes are not felt. This cat, with nothing related to do with soumen, is one

carefree animal.

Lately it's in the process of changing to its winter fur, so cat fur has been scattered just about


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everywhere. Furthermore, he has this hunch that the cat's body size has been slowly growing bigger.

As Kamijou reaches out for his clothes so he could change at the bathroom,

"In any case, we'll immediately execute Maika's secret instructions. Soumen that looks like harumaki!"

"As if harumaki is normally right for me!"

Just as Index let out her lamentations, the inter-phone abruptly rang.

"Who might that be?"

When Kamijou opens the door, it was Tsuchimikado Motoharu on the other side.

"Oh, there you are nya-. Kami-yan, sorry but can you help me out, nya-"

Kamijou went into alert mode at those words and,

"W-what kind of assistance? Don't tell me it's those guys again are coming in after taking down an

international-scale magic armada."

"Kami-yan ... you're already smoothly letting out such words ... can't you do it for sympathy?

Tsuchimikado saw regretfully at him and then, "That's not it, Maika just finished cooking something

too much, nya. It's something like a stew boiled for about 10 hours and it's brought in a pot, but I can't

each such a meal. But I can't just throw it out so if you'd like let's eat it together ---"

"---- I'm eating--!!"

It's Index, not Kamijou, who shouted as she quickly shot past them from her landlord's back. The smell

of Tsuchimikado's food must have stuck on his clothes; even the tortoise-shell cat approaches them in a

trot.

Kamijou wanted to say complaints, but he was silenced by Index's unusual mood. The word "wisdom"

floated on his mind.

All told, they went in straight for Tsuchimikado's room.


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The floor layout's just like that of Kamijou's. However, as only training equipment were in placed just

like in gyms, the impression was very much changed. And at the walls there are a pair of bookshelves,

being converted to a collector's field (special space), it's insides full of manga maids as its covers;

Kamijou thought it's a friend's duty to not to touch there in advance.

"Here it is",

Tsuchimikado said as he pointed at the top of the table. Maika must have brought

it here, a silver cylindrical pot used by chefs and just placed there with a slam.

Of course there's no way a normal boarding student can possess a pot stand big

enough for this gigantic pot, so old newspapers were spread out.

Tsuchimikado approaches the pot and opens the lid, and within it is an orange-colored stew.

"The base is probably carrots, but it's completely dissolved down, nya-. This heck of a stew has some

of the vegetables used as ingredients thrown in."

"Won't carrots make it really appetizing?"

Such was his impression when he smelled it as much as he can. Apparently sugar was not used, and

probably only the flavor from the vegetables would remain.

For now, the stew is scooped up with a ladle into a large shallow-bowl. The pork and potatoes were cut

into large pieces. The vegetables of the good variety were put in; it appeared so nutritious it's

approaching that of health drinks where even nutrients not found in an ordinary meal are present.

Incidentally, the cat didn't realize the reason why onions were used. Its eyes could not see it as some

small animal and say "What's that, I wanna eat, I wanna eat it, I wanna eat it --!!

With those things happening, the meal started.

With the meal unexpectedly splendid, they didn't think on what to do with the soumen.

After Kamijou said "Itadakimasu", he had the spoon in one hand and is looking at Tsuchimikado,


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"But then you're quite generous, you know. Somehow, even though she's only apprenticing Maika is

approaching on the level of restaurants, right?"

"Nya. It's for that very reason. By not eating such food worth eating it would end up spoiled for sure. If

I had such a large quantity, it would be very difficult for me as expected, nya -"

"I see then. Still, you must have considered about saving the stew."

Piku*, goes as Tsuchimikado's movement stopped for a bit.

This lad, since he basically eats outside or has his younger sis-in-law cook for him, is a student

incapable of both solitary life and cooking for himself. It's for these very reasons he didn't probably

think of doing it.

Kamijou Touma, as one of the cook-for-yourself type, furthermore points this one out.

"Moreover, the fact that Maika made such a large quantity of food means that after giving it, she

wouldn't be coming back to your room for a while, right? Therefore, to avoid you dying from

starvation, she prepared in advance a lot of stuff that would nourish you and is possible to preserve --."

The tortoise-shell cat was using its forepaws and was beating on something box-like.

Upon inspection, it was an airtight container for preservation, an extremely large one.

"... ... ,"

"... ... , "

"... ... , "

Kamijou Touma, Index, and Tsuchimikado Motoharu look at each other.

Tsuchimikado Maika's great affection is compared with Tsuchimikado Motoharu's hopeless manners,

and yet it's anyone's guess how long the sunglasses lad's future last if the stew for this drawn-out battle

would be stolen.


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They remain silent for about several seconds.

Then the cat meowed.

At that signal, Kamijou and Index just about coincidentally started to vigorously *chomp* *chomp*

*chomp* *chomp* *chow* *chow* down the stew.

Tsuchimikado's face turned blue.

"Hey!? Kami-yan stop, stop!! You misunderstood me, I didn't mean to share this to you guys, listen to

me that's my sister-in-law's cooking meant for me--!!"

"Yeah yeah, that's too bad, as if we would understand anything about keeping it!! Oh yeah, don't stop

me, stop Index!! She's already into her second serving!!"

Nya-!? Tsuchimikado shouted, but Index is already unstoppable. Her spoon's vigorously moving in a

way that she would possibly devour greedily every pot.

Whatever anyone says today was a peaceful day.

Between the lines 1

London's Lambeth Palace was originally constructed to be the official residence of the Archbishop of

the Church of England. Although the grounds was now open for sight-seeing, common folk are still

prohibited from entering inside the complex and all information about the complex is classified.

Simply put, no one knows what happens inside the complex.

As one would imagine from the facade that made one feel its history it is a space that was hidden to the

fullest with mystery and charm, if one were an English Puritan conscious of style as well as political

power and social position, it was a goal point worth aiming for; it was a definite place where to even

call it a throne is no exaggeration.


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For the common folk, this is very much unrelated, and so this structure with its unquestionably

thorough privacy has a magical defense network exceeding that of the sovereign's Buckingham Palace.

Even the poor gardener or cleaning staff that are in contact with that guards are well-versed in extreme

anti-intruder magic, and from the props' layout, wallpaper design, up to the illumination intensity of the

Western-style lamps, all these function as a *single trap* with a magical meaning. The very building

itself is no less one gigantic installation, it is said that the usual invasion method of "dodging the traps

to continue" don't work at all, it has design concepts similar to implementing outlandish ideas as it is.

Clergymen call it the maiden's bedroom (nail bedroom) in sarcasm from the iron maiden.

Lambeth Palace too is covered up in the still darkness.

Japan and England are separated by about 9 hours.

Compared to daytime there are only fewer people,

Archbishop Laura Stuart was in the bathroom.

"Hmhmhmhmhmhm-n"

Only her humming echoes, if they were to see that fully-lit space, those people harboring aspirations to

Lambeth Palace and thinking of noble images would probably paralyze in terror.

Even for a so-called bathroom, it's a large room with a 20-meter dimension on every side. But, on the

contrary, it is not in the form of a so-called public bath, it's small unit baths; even though it would take

tens of them to span across the room, they were arranged in a compact manner.

Furthermore with electric baths minus ion baths, and jet water massage baths on each of the bathtubs,

generally an aura of scientific development was intensively hanging around.

Not surprisingly, these bathtubs were generous Bon Festival or year-end gifts sent by Gakuen Toshi to

Laura as a token of appreciation.


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At the moment, Laura was lifting up the skirts of her frock. She sat on the edge of the jet current tub

with only her feet in the water.

There was a bath basin also available just for footbaths, but it seems that for Laura, the jet current

running through her feet was much more pleasing to her.

Her blond hair, with its length twice her height, was bathed in steam and was gathering water droplets

just like what happens in spider webs, but fixing it up later would not be a problem. At any rate, the

footbath comes first.

(*sighing contently* .... so content as to be filled with such happiness--. Well then, after I've relaxed my

feet, it is the electric bathtub next to warm up my body--)

Heading for Laura Stuart, as she was relaxing her tired self, it was not a sudden knock; instead it was

the door being kicked out of its hinges as Stiyl Magnus came bursting in.

"Archbishop!!"

Laura stiffened as she turned her entire self to this outrageous priest's scream, who was sporting

crimson-dyed hair, a stick on his mouth, rings on all his ten fingers, a barcode tattoo below his right

eye, his body reeking of a perfume smell mixed with nicotine.

Even for a foot bath, she has to raise her skirt which exposes her bare feet. Laura dropped her skirt and

in her haste thanks to the sudden movement she slipped from her sitting position at the bathtubs edge,

and ended up rolling along at the middle.

*za-po--n*, a splashing sound resounded.

Stiyl, with a written report on his hand, was not one bit regretful.

"Are you sure the facts written on this report are true!? Don't tell me it's your stupid skill acting up

again. The world moves on the Archbishop's word, so get a ... don't go mumbling underwater, say


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something! You wrote this!!"

The truth was the mumbling meant she was suffering from her head getting the brunt of the jet current,

but from Stiyl's view one could only see that woman who just fell into the bathtub, her panties totally

exposed due her legs spreading out wide like an M.

As Laura furiously surfaced from the water with a splash,

"Wha, wha, wha, what are you stomping suddenly into the ladies bathroom for and in shoes too, Stiyl?

Well, you may be a clergyman, but you're a bad one, so for you to see such a scenery is enough --"

"JUST ANSWER ME ALREADY!!

"No -- Stiyl!! Don't use your flaming sword in the bath; youll boil off the water!!"

Laura tumbles out of the bath. Just in time before an explosion of boiling water vapor.

The archbishop was on the damp floor, puffing through her mouth, with her very long hair entangling

her entire body as if a cocoon was quite monster-like.


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Stiyl, the blood vessels on his forehead popping out,

"Good, now reread quickly the contents of the report and explain its contents to me. I still have to finish

my work before I retire to bed, why do I have to trouble myself looking after women ...?

But Laura didn't hear what he said.

"Ha!! Did the dew stick to my body, which has become obscene because the vestments sticking to my

skin for some time at the bath? That's naughty, so turn around Stiyl! I have no intention of exposing my

underwear to anyone!!"

"... ...,"

A tiny snapping sound is heard.

It's Stiyl chewing hard on the cigarette.

"W, wait Stiyl? I'll be totally burned out if you stab your flaming sword at me--!!"

Stiyl gave chase after a fleeing Laura, flaming sword in one hand.

Today looks like it's going to be a sleepless night.

Chapter 2: What kind of penalty game?Pair_Contract.

Part 1

Misaka Mikoto was in the plaza in front of the concert hall.

It is a place for appointments.

"....not here."

As here and there, groups of friends and couples met up and left the plaza, one person who still waited


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alone was becoming impatient.

Mikoto was still wearing her Tokiwadai Middle School uniform. And she's carrying her cheap student

bag and violin case. It was troublesome, considering she was going out for fun, but to carry them back

to her dormitory would be even moreso. Usually she would come and go as she pleased, but if she

happened to be caught by the dorm head, she'd have to explain her reason for going out.

And so, to avoid being late, she didn't dare return to her dorm and went ahead to the meeting place

ahead of time. She thought of getting Shirai Kuroko, who was apparently somewhere nearby, to take

her things off her hands and so she had called, but then,

"How come neither of them are here yet...?"

Mikoto grumbled dubiously.

She originally planned on pushing the baggage to Shirai then killing time at the cafe, but Shirai, the

linchpin of her plans, has yet to show up to begin with, so in the end, she was stuck standing around the

whole time.

After I tried so hard to be on time, Kamijou had to be so tactlessly late, I wonder why I even wasted my

time trying to be considerate, she sighs.

But then, if she were to leave to drop off her baggage at her dorm right now, it would be past the

meeting time. They might even miss each other just as she left here.

Haah, Mikoto tiredly lowers her shoulders,

"Come to think about it, I don't know that idiot's number. ... though asking for it now will be

bothersome."

Too tired to stand, she squatted down and placed her cheap school bag and violin case on the ground.

The case of course may have had just a bit more value as an antique than the bag, but Mikoto didn't


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really care either way. Cases would only ever be useful as a case.

And, to this young lady who's pretty much exhausted at this point,

"There there there you are! You're Misaka Mikoto-san, no doubt!"

A cheerful young girl's voice called out. "Eh?" Mikoto, on hearing her own name being called, raises

her head.

Standing there is a middle schooler even smaller than Mikoto. A girl in school uniform, her short black

hair topped with lots of artificial flowers. If I remember correctly, Mikoto thought, she belongs to

Judgment just like Shirai Kuroko. She was usually seen wandering aimlessly around Shirai rather than

talking to Mikoto directly.

"You're ... Uiharu Kazari, right?"

"Wah, so you remember me!"

Uiharu's eyes twinkled.

That was surely a look of envy. But it was aimed not at Mikoto herself, but at the "role model senpai of

Tokiwadai Middle". As it was only admiration, that twinkling was a little different from that of Shirai.

The respect she showed was wholesome, through and through.

Uiharu inquires with a timid expression.

"Eh-, I believe I was told by Shirai-san to come here to pick up your things..."

Hm? Mikoto frowns.

Uiharu glanced at the school bag and violin case lying down on the ground,

"Well, you see. Shirai-san was on Judgment business, forcefully... well, working hard so she was

worried about being late. She wanted to come here herself, but because of time constraints I'm here

instead of her --"


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So that's what happened, Mikoto nodded along, but she hesitated.

Shirai (to put it delicately) was someone Mikoto was close with so she didn't mind asking for favors,

but she couldn't just leave the carrying and stuff to such a fragile girl as this. Furthermore, Uiharu is no

Tokiwadai student. Since she can't enter the dorm, it's necessary that she would hand the baggage *to a

dormer and have it brought to her room*.

And it's the worst case scenario if that dormer is the dorm master herself.

The dorm mistress would probably be all smiles to Uiharu and willingly accept the baggage; but when

Mikoto returns to the dorm she would be a raging demon.

So Mikoto lightly waved her hands,

"It's okay if Kuroko can't come. I'll just put them in the cloakroom at the hotel over there. I may have to

get a room, but at least then I'll be able to use it."

"Ha-, how clever of them not to have any coin lockers around here."

Uiharu was looking at the violin case with her sparkling eyes. Surely with that high-priced item,

ordinary persons like herself had better restrain themselves from touching them, her entire self

complains.

Mikoto again waves her hands,

"No! no! no! It's not that I'm telling you politely that I have doubts about you carrying, don't be so

down!"

"But..."

Uiharu was mumbling something ambiguous.

But, she stops there and changed the topic.

"Even so, Tokiwadai Middle really is amazing -. To be using a violin during school is rather


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uncommon."

"Yeah, I suppose. But if you try it out, it isn't all that difficult."

Mikoto notices a subtle light of enviousness in Uiharu's eyes as she stared at the violin,

"Hm, could it be, are you saying you'd like to go to our school?"

"N, no way! That's nonsense!!" She's obviously flustered. "Me, a lowly civilian, there's no way I could

intrude on such a realm filled with upper class ladies!!"

"No, as long as you have the ability, you can get as much financial assistance as you need. I'm pretty

sure that my school values substance over appearance. On the other hand, I've heard that even some

members of royalty have been flunked out before."

"Th, that uber-barrier area where even royalty are kicked out makes me feel even more hopeless - ....

I've never even touched a violin before, you see. I just thought it'd be nice if I could learn to play it

well."

"Well, how would you ever know if you never try?"

Mikoto picks up the violin case that lay on the ground,

"Right. Let's try it out and see."

"Eh!? Are you letting me listen to you?"

"You'll be the one playing, of course."

"Eehh!?"

Uiharu looked at Mikoto with shocked eyes, but the Tokiwadai young lady had already unfastened the

case's lock and brought out an

Documents

To Aru Majutsu No Index Volume 12 [ENG]