CHAPTER 5

Restful Moment on Strings of Tension
Resumption_of_Hostilities.

1

“Sorcerers have snuck into Academy City,” Stiyl Magnus, a member of the English Puritan Church, had said.

“Right now, we have a lead on the Route Disturber, Oriana Thomson, and the Mardi Gras, Lidvia Lorenzetti. Apparently, they’re trying to make a deal for a real important Soul Arm somewhere in the city, nya~,” Motoharu Tsuchimikado, the sorcerer, had continued.

As Touma Kamijou, the high school student, walked through Academy City that afternoon, he thought back to what they’d told him. The city was bustling with people due to a special citywide athletic meet called the Daihasei Festival.

“Security here is usually far too strict, but with the Daihasei Festival going on, they must have at least a few clerks helping them out. They took advantage of that to slip into the city.”

“And you know how it goes, nya~. If Anti-Skill or Judgment gets ahold of anyone related to sorcery, there’s going to be some problems. But we can’t let a bunch of sorcerers inside to chase down Oriana and Lidvia, either. Not all sorcerers are friends of Academy City, nya~. Both the science side and the magic side have noticed what the two of them are doing, but their hands are tied.”

There were a lot of adults around today, which was unusual for a city made up of 80 percent students. Parents and guardians had come here in droves to watch their children compete. They were all gazing at the power-generating wind turbines, autonomous cleaning robots, and other things they looked upon in curiosity. Espers like Kamijou were included in that list.

“Which means we’re the only ones who can act right now.”

“If we can’t stop their deal with the Stab Sword, it might be everything the world of sorcery needs to go to war, nya~.”

Kamijou wove through the crowds as he strolled along. Around him were parents and children walking with helium-filled balloons and elderly people with their Daihasei Festival pamphlets, which had inflated to the size of overseas travel guidebooks, checking on the event schedules.

“The moment the group of magicians waiting outside the city detects any mana flows inside Academy City, they’ll use it as an excuse to barge in. They would have searching spells spanning a big area.”

“Still, none of their spells will be able to cover the entire city. They’re probably using Index as a focal point and searching from there for about one or two kilometers. After all, most of the sorcery-related incidents in the city have been around her, nya~.”

“Which means that if she gets close to the situation, they might detect mana from me or Oriana and Lidvia. But if we get her farther away from things, there’s a much lower chance their search will spot us.”

“Welp, that’s up to you, Kammy. If you could just lead Index far away from the incident, it would help us out a whole lot.”

Everything around Kamijou was peaceful. Nobody knew anything about the strange occurrences…

…including what was about to take place in Academy City…

…or how there were people working to stop it.

“Damn! The Soul Arm they’ve got wasn’t the Stab Sword—it was the Croce di Pietro! It has the power to dominate everything, physical and mental, in the space around where it’s planted into the ground, making it all Roman Orthodox territory. Everything in the affected area will start to go the Church’s way, and nobody will even think anything is up. If they used it in a city directly opposed to the religious world…If the best thing for the Roman Orthodox Church is Academy City falling under its control, then it’ll just happen!”

“This deal Oriana mentioned wasn’t for the Soul Arm itself—it was a deal to gain control of Academy City. It’s the leader of the science faction. Gaining control of it means they’ll scoop up half the world, nya~. If the strongest member of the Church takes the biggest member of the scientific side…then the Roman Orthodox Church will conquer the whole planet!”

“That’s why we knew Oriana’s and Lidvia’s names and that they’d be handing it over, but never who they were going to trade it to. They never planned on giving away the Croce di Pietro in the first place. The deal is between Lidvia and Oriana and the entire Roman Orthodox Church they belong to!”

Touma Kamijou walked through Academy City—

—where, on the surface, espers clashed. Where, below the surface, sorcerers lurked.

2

The Daihasei Festival.

This unique athletic festival held over seven days in Academy City, the facility for supernatural-ability development taking up all of western Tokyo, was already nearing the halfway point of its first day. All events were suspended right now from noon till two for lunch break. The swarms of students who had just been participating in the games and cheering on their classmates were now loose in the streets. The presence of general attendees from outside the city drove the current population density through the roof.

“Indeeex?”

Touma Kamijou walked through the utterly crowded city streets.

He had changed clothes temporarily, and now he was just a regular boy sporting the regular short sleeves and shorts of his gym uniform. Certain circumstances had left him with scrapes on his arms and legs, some gauze plastered on his cheek, topped off with rips and mud stains on his clothing. But with every esper in the city participating in the Daihasei Festival’s fierce battles, he didn’t stand out very much.

Also, due to said circumstances, he hadn’t eaten anything even though lunch break was coming to an end. He plodded along, rather hungry, continuing his search for an equally hungry girl.

She should be around here somewhere…I made sure to give her a zero-yen cell phone, but its battery is dead, so she can’t use it. Tsuchimikado told me to keep her away from the incident, too, so I need to find her and keep an eye on her.

Kamijou’s eyes darted around, wondering why he was so relaxed while the likes of the sorcerer Oriana Thomson and the Roman Orthodox disciple Lidvia Lorenzetti were plotting who knows what behind the scenes. But Tsuchimikado and Stiyl had strictly warned him about this, too.

“If their goal is to use the Croce di Pietro to gain control of Academy City, then why didn’t they use it right away? There must be a reason they couldn’t. It’s a damn powerful Soul Arm, after all. Activating, controlling, and stabilizing it would take more than a mere incantation. For example…the caster might need to purify herself with fire and holy oil for a long period of time. Or she might need to put up a special barrier so the cross itself doesn’t pick up any stray thoughts of passersby and confuse the caster’s orders…In any case, they must not be able to use the Croce di Pietro without first doing some sort of complex preparations.”

“If we could just figure out what its usage conditions are, we might be able to get a leg up on ’em, nya~. Either way, investigating Soul Arms is a sorcerer’s job. Nothing you can help us with here, Kammy.”

That was the gist of it. With everything going on, the top priority for Kamijou at the moment was to stay with a certain girl.

The person he was looking for, named Index, was a small, fair-skinned girl with green eyes. Her hair was silver and went down to her waist. Plus, she was wearing a white habit embroidered with gold thread that made her look like a teacup.

A foreign girl wasn’t that unusual, considering how much international visibility there was for Academy City and the Daihasei Festival. Every once in a while, he’d pass a girl with silver hair and green eyes, but even he wasn’t going to mistake one of them for her and strike up a conversation. However many silver-haired, green-eyed girls were here, Index was the only one wearing that ridiculously outlandish habit. He would never miss her.

…But he still couldn’t find her. He tilted his head, confused. What had happened?

“Toumaaa…”

Then his ears heard a familiar cute voice.

He looked in that direction, but all he saw were people, people, and some more people. They were completely blocking the view, and he didn’t have the time to stop and look at every single one of their faces. He caught silver out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked, it was a girl in a cheerleading uniform, with a white pleated skirt and a pale-green tank top. Index would never wear something like that.

“Toumaaa…”

He heard it again. He turned around, but he still couldn’t find any sign of that ostentatious white habit. Just a girl who looked almost exactly like Index, wearing a cheerleading uniform, holding a calico in both arms, with silver hair and green eyes—

“Touma!! Why are you trying not to look at me?!”

“Ack!!”

Kamijou reeled back in surprise—the cheer girl had come right up next to him without his noticing and shouted in his ears. She must have been searching for Kamijou on her own, too.

Oh. Now he remembered. Right, wasn’t Miss Komoe helping Index change into a cheerleading uniform or something this morning…?

“…Touma, Touma. Did you just think about something lewd? You look really happy to see me right now.”

“I…I am not! Ha-ha, of course not!” Kamijou hurriedly shook his head. “Wait, Index, what happened to your usual habit?”

“I left it with Komoe,” answered Index, visibly peeved.

Wh-what could she be angry about? He felt uneasy. His eyes met the calico’s, but all he received in return was a sleepy yawn. He thought for a few moments, still looking at the cat’s peaceful face. “Okay, I get it. You’re hungry, right? I was about to meet up with Dad to eat some lunch, so you just need to wait a little longer.”

The moment he said that, Index balled her little hands into fists and gave Kamijou a whack on the head. “No, that’s not it! Touma, you idiot!”

“Ow, that hurt! Then what is it?!”

“I changed my clothes and learned dance steps from Komoe so I could cheer you on! But where were you the whole time?! I don’t think you were at the bread-eating-race thing! Or the rope-pulling thing, either! Were you in anything?!”

Oh. That reminded him—He was currently in the middle of a few things. Circumstances had dictated he leave his class for something else, but of course he couldn’t explain any of that to Index.

She groaned. “I did everything, and I tried really hard, all because I thought I could finally be with you! Then you went off alone, and I didn’t know what to do…,” she mumbled, her head hanging as low as it could go.

Index wasn’t familiar with being in Academy City during such a huge event. It was like he’d left her alone at a party she hadn’t been invited to. She must have felt totally helpless. Kamijou scratched his head. “Ahh, I’m sorry, Index! I just thought, you know, you were mad because you were hungry like you always are.”

“No, I wasn’t! I tried really hard so I could cheer you on, but you wouldn’t even look at me! That’s why I’m mad!! And besides, I’ve taken a vow of poverty like all proper sisters. Getting mad because I’m hungry is something I would never do, Touma!!”

“Really, now? Food seems to be the only thing on your mind for three-fourths of the year…Wait, no, I didn’t mean it!! See, I just accidentally said what I meant— No, wait, you know, I, uh, I can explain…!!”

Kamijou tried to plead his case, but Index’s anger would not be quelled. Her tiny fists pummeled his cheeks and chest over and over. This was cute to see, but he suddenly felt like something was wrong. “…? Index, what happened to your usual biting?…Wait, no! It’s not like you need to force yourself to do it—really!!”

The last part had been added quickly, but contrary to his expectations, Index showed no response. In fact, her pummeling hands suddenly stopped moving.

He looked at her face. And he almost groaned out loud.

Index’s head was tilted down as far as it would go, and her face was bright red all the way to her ears. Her shoulders were trembling a little, and her small lips were locking up in an attempt to say something. The calico sensed the strange situation it was in and meowed up at her, but things had gotten so tense he wasn’t even sure she could hear it.

Index stood there for a few moments, frozen up and silent. Finally, she muttered, “…You’re a pervert.”

“What the heck? You were the one who was always biting me this whole time, Index! Mr. Kamijou screamed and cried every time for you to stop and get off! If anything, that would make you the perv—Gbahh?!”

Before he could finish arguing, a tiny fist shut him up.

And a pretty serious fist, at that.

3

Oriana Thomson had just gotten a two-scoop ice cream cone from a shopkeeper wearing a cute uniform.

Golden locks, curling around and fluffing out behind her. Pale white skin and blue eyes. A tall body and looks that killed—she was the perfect image of a foreigner from a Japanese person’s point of view.

She was no longer wearing her earlier work uniform. Now her outfit consisted of a lightly colored camisole and a loose skirt. On her feet, she wore thin mules. Her skirt went down almost to her ankles, but she couldn’t exactly be called “neatly dressed.” The skirt was split every ten centimeters into strips of vertically hanging fabric, gaps between each of them. They didn’t bother to hide her underwear, so she was also wearing a pareo around her waist, the kind someone would wear as part of a swimsuit.

Her skirt was basically no more than a see-through bamboo screen. With every step she took, her legs would stick out, expose more and more until her thighs appeared, then sink back inside again. The sight of her bare skin going in and out of clothing meant to hide her underwear made it look like she was offering a fundamental rejection of how skirts were supposed to function.

In Crossist society, clothing was an item that displayed one’s position and status. From an archbishop’s vestments to a prisoner’s uniform, no matter what you were, there was an outfit specifically for you.

Among them, destroyed clothing—especially a torn-up woman’s skirt—meant that the person had been divested of all authority. Those who were subjected to this were labeled as shameful and unworthy of protection, and society as a whole would hold them in contempt. It was done, of course, to sinners.

“Sinners…,” muttered Oriana, gliding her brightly colored tongue over her ice cream. “Sinners, hmm? Heh-heh-heh,” she giggled.

“What might you be laughing about?”

She heard someone else’s voice.

It had a clear timbre, belonging to a woman.

Oriana had a thick note card tucked behind her right ear like a ballpoint pen. The paper vibrated to create this “voice.”

“What? I was just thinking how surprising it is that I’ve come this far, Lidvia Lorenzetti.”

“I believe I advised you three times now not to call me by my true name. I also believe it is too early to indulge in such displays of emotion. In my opinion, this is where the important part begins.”

“I hear you. I haven’t forgotten my duty in this. If I score some points out here, even a sinner like me might be able to be a decoy for this tightly closed faction. Maybe you’ll get something out of it, too?”

“…I don’t need…”

“Oh, just accept my goodwill, okay?”

“I simply believe you should be prioritized right now, not me. I wonder if you are all right—you haven’t taken a rest. Perhaps I should let—”

“Let me take a rest? That’s funny! Anyway, Lidvia, nobody’s found you, right? I’m the one out in the open, and you’re supporting from behind the scenes. If we both find ourselves unable to move, the plan will fail.”

“Rest assured. While you are running about outside, I am staying put in the lobby.”

“How very luxurious. I wish I could lounge around in the hotel, too! Or get some exercise in one.”

“…I believe I already asked you to refrain from such indecent comments.”

“Oh my. I think you’re reading too much into this. Don’t you know hotels these days come with all sorts of amazing facilities like pools and gyms? Eww, Lidvia, you’re so lewd!”

“…”

“Oh? Wait, don’t clam up on me just for that! Lidvy?”

As Oriana spoke, she happened to spot a balloon stuck in a tree branch on the roadside in front of her. An average Japanese person’s height might not have been enough to reach it, but she had no difficulty snagging it. She needed to stretch only a little to grab the balloon’s string. She looked around and found a little boy right nearby, staring up at her face.

Oriana crouched down and held out the balloon to him. Without a word, he clutched the string and ran away at full speed.

“…I believe I instructed you to avoid contact with civilians as much as possible.”

“I am! As much as possible. That just now was unavoidable.”

She heard an exasperated sigh over the communication spell.

Without particularly minding it, she licked the ice cream again with the tip of her tongue. “Still, though,” she said, watching the blimps in the blue sky. “I knew waiting would be a pain, but man, this is boring.”

4

“Gwaaah! Touma, I think my tummy is completely empty…”

“…You’ve been saying that, but why are you pretending not to notice the smell of sauce and mayonnaise on you, Index?”

Touma had brought Index to a snug little café. Everything, from the recommendations menu to the OPEN and CLOSED sign, seemed purposely hard to discern, as though it was a hobby of the owner. Anyway, it wasn’t one of those places that guests naturally radiated toward.

But even in here, every seat was taken. The reason was simple—it was currently before two in the afternoon, still lunch break for the Daihasei Festival. With the 2.3 million people who lived here and the spectators from out of town storming every eatery in the city right now, even places like this would be crowded.

“Hey, Touma. Over here!”

“Oh my, oh my. You mustn’t shout so loudly.”

He spotted familiar faces at a table for four near the window—his parents, Touya and Shiina. Touya was wearing slacks and a dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up, while Shiina was wearing a thin cardigan and an ankle-length dress. They looked less like a married couple and more like a noble lady and her chauffeur.

Touya began talking before Kamijou and Index sat down. “Every single year I’m surprised by how amazing the Daihasei Festival is—or at least by how hard it is to reserve seats. It makes me feel like I’m right in the thick of the competition with all the kids.”

Unlike normal athletic meets, you couldn’t just reserve one seat at the Daihasei Festival and be set for everything. Each event was held in a different stadium, so parents and children needed to run around requisitioning seats at one place after another. Lunchtime worked the same way. Once the events were over, competitors and spectators alike would be barred from entering the stadiums, so they would need to find seats for lunch, too.

After hitting each point in his mind, Kamijou said, “Well, you know. The whole city is basically cafeterias and shops at this point.”

“Hmm. ‘Academy City,’ indeed. Whoops, need to scoot in so you can fit.”

“Oh my. Then maybe it would be fun to try diving into the crowds for a pork fillet cutlet sandwich. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow. Oh my, you can sit right here, young lady.”

Touya and Shiina, facing each other, moved in to make room for them, so Kamijou sat next to Touya and Index next to Shiina. Index’s stomach immediately rumbled and she collapsed over the table. Shiina watched them with a pleasant smile as she moved the wicker basket from her lap to the table.

It was impolite to bring your own food into an eating establishment, but during the Daihasei Festival, it was more important to find a place to sit down to eat than procuring food. Either the shopkeeper at the counter was aware of the unique circumstances or just didn’t care, because he didn’t say anything to them. Index had even brought the cat inside the place, but he didn’t seem to notice that, either.

Yikes. Why’s Dad accepting Index like nothing’s wrong, anyway? Oh, right. They met before at the beach house. Despite his initial confusion, he realized nobody present seemed to mind. Of course, he was pretty sure this crowd would accept just about anyone.

“Ta-daa! Our meal for today will be rice sandwiches. Oh, it looks like they got a little squished,” Shiina said, cracking open the basket’s lid.

Sounds and smells of an imminent meal provoked Index and the calico into swift action, their heads rising up quickly. Kamijou looked at them, unamused…and then noticed something wrong out of the corner of his eye.

He looked around the shop.

Its furnishings were a bit on the old-fashioned side, and not every single chair or the wallpaper looked like it belonged to a strictly uniform collection. But it also wasn’t as stiff as a decades-old shop that wanted to retain its own unique style. If someone said café, you’d easily be able to imagine the kind of place it was. Basically, there were one-person counter seats and a smattering of booths for four, like the one Kamijou’s family was using. There wasn’t much space between the tables to walk. At the table on the other side of the small path was a girl who looked college-aged, wearing a light gray button-down shirt and a thin pair of slacks. She sat across from a female middle school student in the normal tank top and shorts worn for track-and-field events—and she was a Level Five.

Mikoto Misaka glared at him, legs crossed.

He blinked in surprise a couple of times. “Well, leaving all that aside…Whoa, look at this menu! The coffee here is dirt cheap compared to other places!”

“Hey! Why am I the only one your brain always returns zero search results for?! And don’t start thinking the cheaper price means it doesn’t taste as good, you idiot!!” Mikoto pounded the table and almost stood up.

Kamijou took his eyes off the menu with an exasperated look. “Well, I mean, I thought I was just going with the flow.”

“Wha…? Is that all?! There’s never any natural, sane flow when you’re involved! And also, who the heck is that kid who’s always following you around? Where does she even live?!”

Index made a grunt and looked up to see a finger pointing at her.

“Who is she? Wait, you…,” Kamijou began, but then he quickly closed his mouth. Confessing before his parents that a girl was actually staying in the male dorm—in his room—was a pretty high hurdle for him. Instead, the pure-hearted Touma Kamijou started to worry. How would he trick them?

“That’s right, Touma,” his father said. “Come to think of it, who is this girl? She was with you when we stayed over at the beach, too, but whenever we asked at the house, you avoided the subject.”

Pfft?! Kamijou almost sputtered. Mikoto cut in from the side. “Th-the beach?! Y-y-y-y-you stayed over at the beach?!”

Her piercing shout hammered his eardrums. He checked what the other lady, the one who looked like she was in college, was doing, to find her shaking her head and sighing. No, I didn’t mean that in any strange way, and why do I have to explain all the details to Misaka anyway?! Kamijou thought before opening his mouth.

Index, the genuine westerner, cut in. “I should say the same for you, Short Hair. Where do you live and who are you? Are you Touma’s girlfriend or something?”

She probably just meant friend who is a girl, but the bona fide Japanese person she asked, Mikoto Misaka, gave a jolt of surprise.

“What?! N-no, we’re not like that. I don’t…”

“You came to cheer for Touma’s school, too. The time when they were pushing over the poles.”

“Wait, no, be quiet!!”

Mikoto’s hands began to scramble in midair, but Index, for her part, didn’t seem too interested in any of this. Petting with both hands the calico sitting in her lap, she stared excitedly at the lunch Shiina had put on the table. “Touma, Touma. I think my tummy is empty now. Do you mean you didn’t make a lunch today?”

“Oh my. Today? What do you do on other days, Touma?” Shiina asked with a smile, looking at him curiously.

Kamijou felt sweat forming on his back. “No, that’s not it, Mother! She lives in the neighborhood and she’s really bad at cooking, and there’s some stuff going on—”

“Huh? Touma, when you say neighborhood, it’s more like—”

“I’m doing the explaining here, so you be quiet! Anyway, why are you arguing about that when I said you’re bad at cooking even though you’re a girl?!”

“But it’s true. I can’t cook.”

“Damn it! You’re seriously only an expert at eating, huh, Index?! On the other hand, I wonder how Mikoto is with chores and stuff!”

“Huh? I, well, I can do a little, since I’m still learning. I mean, even I haven’t perfectly memorized how to fix frayed spots on Persian rugs or how to repair damaged leaves on traditional metal dishes or anything.”

“Mikoto,” began the other lady, “normal Japanese people don’t have Persian rugs or traditional metal dishes in their homes in the first place. I think you’re mistaking housework with artistry,” she said gently.

Mikoto grunted in surprise. “Huh?! B-but I remember it being in home-ec class at Tokiwadai…!!” she cried.

It seemed like part of the “proper young lady” world was being able to breathe new life into antiques with the same ease as fixing a few loose strands on a shirt. Whichever the case was, Kamijou was relieved. Okay, managed to get the conversation off that topic.

His father, Touya, checked the clock on the store wall and said, “Well, anyway, let’s get to eating, shall we? Touma, make sure to thank them. They waited for you to get here this whole time without eating.”

Really? Kamijou looked over to see Mikoto flinch and press her back against the back of the seat.

On the other hand, directly across from Mikoto was the college-age lady—the only one he’d never met before—sitting and weakly smiling. “Not at all. You eventually got here, so let’s dig in. So your name is Touma Kamijou, right?”

“Huh? Yes, but, um, are you Misaka’s older sister, or…?”

“No, no. I’m Misuzu Misaka, Mikoto’s mother. Pleased to meet you!”

..............................................................................Mother?

All four people at the Kamijou table froze for a moment.

Then they all shouted “MOTHER?!” at the same time.

Touya looked particularly more flurried than the rest of them. “B-but weren’t you saying all those things about going to university?!”

“Yes. I recently decided to go back to school. It’s quite stimulating to be able to encounter at this age all sorts of things I don’t understand!”

Hearing that made everything seem to fit together for some reason, and that made it strange to Kamijou. Father and son looked over to Shiina then, sitting at the same table in her prim-and-proper ladies’ outfit.

“…Well, I mean, don’t things like this seem too strange to be real? What do you think, Touma?”

“Now that you mention it, we’ve got kind of the same thing going on, so maybe it’s not really enough to start shouting about how strange it is…is it?”

“It is strange! Touma, you have all these unnaturally young-looking adults around you like that Komoe and this Shiina! If you thought about it normally it would be impossible!! How is this world so filled with youth? Is this like Neverland? Did Peter Pan guide me here somehow?!” Index cried out with the retort of her life, but she, too, had a body that could reasonably be called mini-sized. That one aspect made the cheerleader’s words not very convincing.

Of course, the Misakas didn’t seem to care much about it, and neither of them paid it any mind. Mikoto took a menu from the corner of the table. “Umm, it’s really late at this point, but what do you want, Mom?”

“I don’t need anything. See? I came today with my own lunch packed, too. Check it out, Mikoto. It’s just like I’m a real mom, isn’t it?”

“…Just like it? I certainly hope you’re trying to be an actual mother! And what’s in that bag you have?”

“Heh-heh-heh! Don’t be too surprised when I show you!” Misuzu rummaged around in her bag for a moment, then pulled out a huge hunk of cheese, a bottle of white wine, a silver stock pot, and a portable gas stove. “Ta-daa!! Today we’ll be having cheese fondue!!”

“You can’t bring propane gas into Academy City! It’s dangerous!!”

Whack! Mikoto gave her mother a slap on the head. It was obviously not the time for her biri biri. Misuzu Misaka, for her part, showed what an adult woman capable of controlling her tear ducts through acting could do, and began purposely looking at Mikoto with wide, moist eyes. “Nooo! My own daughter hit me! But, you know…girls who eat so much that they need a pot like this to prepare their food grow up splendidly well-figured. Exercise may be important, too, but you won’t get any bigger if you just nibble away at a tiny little lunch every day. If you do that, the nutrients might not go to the places you want to grow. Sheesh, why do you think I brought in so much cheese? It was for you!”

“No, er, I…Growing, getting bigger…What are you on about?”

“Hmmm? Well, what am I talking about? I was only saying that your bones need calcium to be healthy…Could you have been thinking about something else that you actually want to get bigger? And why did you suddenly start thinking about wanting to get bigger, anyway?”

“Sh-shut up, you stupid mom! And you! Don’t give me that blank look of amazement!!” After the red-faced Mikoto finished yelling at Misuzu, she snapped at Kamijou for some reason.

Misuzu smirked, her smile not looking very refined. “Well, leaving aside the need for dairy products, it’s common knowledge that biologically, eating more will make you grow more. Whether you grow horizontally or vertically is another problem, though. Getting fat from eating just means your body can’t manage it. If you balance your calories and your exercise, the places you want to grow will grow just fine. Western dietary culture is amazing, isn’t it? If you eat buckets of food like this, you’d have a better body than Japanese people. A huge chest means huge life benefits!” As she spoke, she purposely stretched out her arms. She stretched as she tilted back, like a tense bow, emphasizing her swells.

The still-developing Mikoto winced slightly. “Y-you don’t need to worry. Eating more to grow more is basically just superstition, isn’t it?…Hey, you! Get your eyes off my mother!!” she cried, implicating Kamijou.

Whoosh!! He pulled his gaze away at the speed of sound. Now in his forcibly changed vision was a rather mad Index in a cheerleading uniform, whether because of being hungry or because of the topic of breasts.

“…What is it, Touma? Why are you looking at my face so closely?”

“Nothing,” he said with an extremely pained grin. “Eating a lot to grow a lot, huh? Just thinking how nice that would be.”

“!!” His words got an instant reaction from Index. Her mouth opened wide as if to devour his head, but once again, she stopped halfway through the act. She seemed to be starting to be conscious about her mouth on someone else’s body. Her face grew bright red at the thought, and with slow motions, she sat back in her seat and shrank down.

Right…She’s so hard to deal with. He didn’t like being bitten because it hurt, so why was he feeling somehow uncomfortable from not being bitten?

As for the people sitting around him…

“T-Touma, I’m sure it’s not true, but did you do something to this girl, too? You already told that girl that you were making a bet and whoever lost had to do what the other said…Did you do it again?!”

“Oh my, oh my. The girl is mad, and yet you still brought it into the conversation. I’m feeling an extremely strong sense of déjà vu.”

“…I…I see. Something happened between you. Ah, I see how it is.”

“Ahh! My little Mikoto is so into him, but she’s acting like she doesn’t care! You’re so cute! You can only get this kind of thing from an unconsciously ill-starred girl!”

“…Touma, you’re…stupid.”

Urgh! They’re all so hard to deal with!!

As everyone present started saying whatever they wanted, Kamijou couldn’t help but cradle his head in his hands.

5

She’s so hard to deal with.

The sorcerer Stiyl Magnus was listening closely to his cell phone.

He was sitting on a park bench. No one sat next to him. In the empty space beside him were a sandwich and a bottle of iced tea he’d bought at the convenience store. Of course, his first sip of the latter had ended with him swearing to never pick up a bottle of iced tea again. Though imperfect, he was still a citizen of England, the tea capital of the world.

That, however, wasn’t the cause of the bitterness on his face.

It was the friendly voice on the other end of the phone.

“I did make sure to look into the British Library’s records. But the Roman Orthodox Church has always been a stubborn ass about showing the Soul Arm to anyone. And even if there were public records, or if they actually did unveil it, that doesn’t mean it’d be the real thing, you know?”

The rough but sonorous voice belonged to Sherry Cromwell. She was the go-to decryption specialist of the English Puritan Church but simultaneously an enemy to Index. She was in an extremely complicated position because of the relationships between different factions. On one hand, she would attack even other members of the English Church, and yet when it came to problems affecting all of England, she would cooperate in a heartbeat.

On the first day of September, she had launched an attack on Academy City. As a result, she was now subject to religious deliberations. The fact that she, a combat specialist, was doing clerical duties basically meant she was under house arrest. Stiyl had predicted that Archbishop Laura Stuart would give one of her “lenient decisions,” since the whole incident had happened only because of the complex background of England. And besides, he knew she wouldn’t let go of someone with Sherry’s skills at decryption—and combat. The incident must have caused injuries, but he figured that they had come to terms by now, probably after a series of deathly tense meetings with Aleister, head of the science-ruled part of the world.

For Stiyl’s part, leaving aside all those circumstances, Sherry had tried to hurt Index. He had half a mind to catch her at a good time and have a nice long talk with her after ramming a flame sword into her once or twice.

“After all, not even I, another Roman Catholic disciple, have actually been allowed to see the Croce di Pietro. That must mean it’s a very important trick up their sleeves. It seems like it will be quite difficult to find a weakness in it.”

The second voice, speaking in a relaxed tone, was Orsola Aquinas. Like Sherry, she specialized in magic-related decryption. After she “deciphered” the grimoire called the Book of the Law, the sister had converted from Roman Orthodoxy to English Puritanism.

At the moment, Stiyl was trying to ferret out the usage requirements of the Croce di Pietro by plumbing the vast records of the British National Library, a distinct entity from the British Museum.

And the administration of the British Library, which collected information from throughout all time periods and locations, was entrusted to those skilled at encryption because of its unique qualities. That circumstance led Sherry and Orsola into the same department. But…

“Munch, munch. Oh, wait just one moment. Miss Sherry, Miss Sherry! This notebook has scribbled notes from a Vatican Preserver.”

“Hey! How many times do I need to tell you not to eat your damn muffins in the library?!”

“Now, now. Look at the time. Why not have a light snack?”

“Don’t give me that! I just told you not to eat it! Stop stuffing your damn face!!”

“But this is a specially made muffin with food rites integrated into it. Everyone from Amakusa made them for me. They help replenish my stamina and heal external wounds. I am still not at one hundred percent, you see.”

“Now you’re just avoiding the subject—Wait, you moron! Is letting crumbs fall out of your mouth really needed for that stupid Amakusa spell to work?!”

Stiyl sighed. Their personalities and levels of excitement didn’t meld well at all. He began to hear through the phone the sounds of struggling, and by some chance, it hung up a moment later.

Man. He folded up the cell phone and put it back into his pocket. When did Necessarius start getting so soft? Until not long ago, he always felt a nervous tension with them, like he was tiptoeing across spider threads. Despair always on the heels of hope, having to kill enemies to save allies, shedding blood to stop another’s tears—that was the kind of group he thought they were.

Once again, the only cause for this change he could conceive of was that one boy. Meeting him and being influenced by him had caused a good many sorcerers to rethink their lives. Stiyl himself included.

“…Too annoying to admit it, though,” he spat, dropping his now-short cigarette to his feet. As it hit the ground, the butt burst into an ember and vanished without a trace. He pulled out a new one and stuck it in his mouth, then produced a weak flame on the end without touching it.

He exhaled. Tsuchimikado was talking about trying to get into Academy City’s security or something, but I don’t think I can rely on him too much. Let’s see what’s next…

Stiyl leaned back up against the bench and stared at the sky. It was so blue he hated it. He blew the smoke from his cigarette straight up like a chimney, when…

“?”

He suddenly felt eyes on him. He brought his face back down to see a woman standing there, about 135 centimeters tall.

Komoe Tsukuyomi, was it?

At the end of July, when the girl named Index had first snuck into Academy City, this woman was the one who had sheltered her in her personal apartment after she’d been slashed in the back. She looked no older than twelve, but apparently, she was a schoolteacher. For some reason, today she was wearing a cheerleader-like uniform, with a light-green tank top and white pleated skirt.

She stared at him.

Hmm. Even in a peace-drunken nation like this, I suppose some people have some danger-management abilities. Komoe Tsukuyomi shouldn’t have reached the core of that incident, but he grinned sardonically. She must have at least gotten a glimpse of the strange man known as Stiyl Magnus during that time.

“I’m sorry. Is there something you need?” he said slowly, cigarette wiggling at the corner of his mouth. He recalled what Necessarius was like as he sensed the first clear rejection and dread he’d felt in a long time.

Miss Komoe, however, stuck her index finger right at Stiyl’s face and shouted something completely outside his expectations.

“Hey! There is a total ban on smoking in public places in Academy City!!”

Stiyl blinked in silent surprise for a second, then gave an audible sigh.

“Wh-why are you looking away like you’re so tired?! Miss Komoe is giving you a serious warning here! I’m actually trying to give you a stern talking-to!!”

He frowned a little; she was already on the verge of tears. Without a care for his expression, she continued to carefully observe his face. “Mgh! Excuse me for asking, but how old are you? You look like a minor to me!”

“So what if I am?”

“If you were, I’d scold you, of course! Come on! Listen to what I’m saying! Don’t turn the other cheek—look at me!!” cried Miss Komoe in full angry mode, snatching the cigarette from his mouth and then casually shoving her hand into his pocket. Her small fingers fished around in there before coming out with a box of cigarettes.

“…” Stiyl’s expression tightened a bit, but his moral code fundamentally prevented him from attacking people unrelated to the world of sorcery. (Though there were exceptions, such as a certain boy with a special right hand.)

After Miss Komoe looked at the name of the cigarettes she’d confiscated, her eyebrows shot up. “And you picked ones with such a pretentious name, too. Are you the sort who started smoking because he wanted to be an actor or something?!”

“No, it’s just that brand is the most famous kind where I come from…”

“Jeez! Anyway, I’m keeping this! You shouldn’t smoke cigarettes anymore. Nicotine and tar are bad for growing children!!” she finished, looking him straight in the eyes.

Stiyl couldn’t help but avert his gaze. She’s so hard to deal with. That’s what he honestly thought.

This Komoe Tsukuyomi reminded him very much of a certain girl.

The one who’d ignore all size differences and come right up to you…

…the one who was brash, but always for the sake of others…

…the one who’d tell a person off as much as necessary to keep them safe—

and the one who had, just a few years ago, yelled at him every time he put a cigarette in his mouth.

“Man…”

“Huh?! Why do you look like you’re utterly exhausted?! M-Miss Komoe is very, very angry, for real today! Wait, you had more?! I’m taking those, too—Ah, ah! Stop using that box like a beanbag and give it to me right this instant!!”

Stiyl looked to the side and away from the shouting Komoe Tsukuyomi. Whatever she said was going in one ear and out the other, but she wouldn’t stop shouting at him and never tried to leave.

Yes, telling him off as much as needed.

6

Lidvia Lorenzetti was in a hotel lounge.

Her habit, not only old but riddled with little cuts and patches of fading color, stood out like a sore thumb among the modern scenery around her. Her hair and skin had lost their sheen along with the habit, looking damaged and faint of color. From her face one could guess that she was, at one time, a beauty to behold. But now her whole body, from head to toe, resembled more what one might see in an aged movie.

The habit was from one generation before the ones the Roman Orthodox Church currently used. Habits from then had different color variations available. Lidvia wore one with white fabric with a red cross design: the symbol of Saint George. At the time, the habit had caused discord in the Church, since the Puritans wore the same symbol. Lidvia had purposely kept it as her habit of choice. She had inherited it from her grandmother’s generation, yes—but more important, she firmly believed that the blessed and talented had a duty to extend a helping hand to everyone, even sinners.

On an international scale, the hotel she was in wouldn’t be rated as very famous. It was still young from a historical viewpoint. Inferior in every way to the huge buildings in Italy, which all had an antique value in the building itself to match…but crammed to the brim with more people than any other in the world.

Lidvia speculated the congestion was due to the Daihasei Festival, a sporting fair with a global scope. At all other times, Academy City was a closed-off environment. Aside from housing academic conferences and VIP invitees, hotels weren’t necessary. During big events like this, what few hotels did exist would immediately be filled to capacity. Every room in Academy City would be taken right now, and hotels outside the city would be doing great business because of those who couldn’t get in.

As the people hurriedly rushed around her, Lidvia began to walk, the only one calm.

It seemed like the little portion of time and space around her had been separated from reality.

Well, then…Lidvia Lorenzetti left the lounge and passed through a large glass revolving door. Harsh sunlight poured down on her. She squinted. Oriana is doing her best. I must start soon as well.

As she thought this, a Daihasei Festival commentator’s voice reached her from afar. When she looked up, she saw a blimp off in the distance, floating along. The big screen affixed to its side displayed weather forecasts, its broadcast stating that the nice, cloudless weather would continue for a while longer. Good weather indeed, thought Lidvia, looking away from the sunlight.

The city was completely at peace.

She disappeared into the crowds—as if to slip through that widening gap.

7

2:20 PM.

Lunch break had ended, but there was still time before the next event for Kamijou’s school. The fight over seats in the cheering section would begin before the game started, though, so Touya and Shiina Kamijou along with Misuzu Misaka each set out for the next stadiums their respective children would be playing at.

As the adults walked up the road to the station, this left the three of them: Kamijou, Index, and Mikoto. Mikoto went to a different school, of course, and she needed to get to the rest of her classmates.

Well, anyway…Kamijou walked behind the two girls, secretly breathing a sigh of relief.

Neither of them had seemed to realize what was slowly happening in Academy City right now. He had already accidentally gotten Seiri Fukiyose involved, and he didn’t want to wrap up anyone else in this incident. No matter how much strength Index or Mikoto could bring to the table.

Mikoto didn’t notice Kamijou’s relief. “…Wait. I’ve been thinking this since the time before last, but why are you two always together?” she asked, casting a dubious glance at Index and Kamijou.

He gulped. This was actually something Touma Kamijou himself didn’t understand. He had amnesia. The only thing he knew was that the first thing he remembered was Index already freeloading in his dorm room. To top it off, he’d been keeping secret the fact that he had amnesia.

He could only deflect the topic by giving an immediate, vague answer that she could take in several different ways—or by forcibly changing the topic. Before he could, though…

“Then why are you always with Touma, Short Hair?”

…Index retaliated with a question of her own.

“Huh?” Mikoto grunted, a little daunted. “Always? There’s no way I could spend every waking hour with this thing! Th-that’s idiotic. And impossible. I don’t have that much free time.”

“…Wow. This thing? Idiotic? Nice combo attack…,” he muttered exhaustedly, but neither of them seemed to mind.

Index tilted her head and for a moment said, “Hmm…” in thought. Then: “Well, it isn’t like I’m with Touma all the time, either.”

“What? Is that right???”

“Yep. Whenever something happens, Touma leaves me behind and goes off somewhere. And every time he gets near a really important life event, he always, always runs off alone and solves it by himself. He’s stupid…I thought you would be involved in all that, but I guess I was wrong?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

There had actually been a few incidents involving Mikoto, but it wasn’t enough to be called “always, always.” So what on earth could he be doing all those times? Index and Mikoto both started to wonder this simultaneously, and then they whipped around to look at Kamijou at the same time.

“…Touma, you always get sent to the hospital and then apologize after the fact. What’s going on?”

“…You mean you’ve been doing stuff like that every single time? Come to think of it, you didn’t waste a second helping those girls or Kuroko…”

Kamijou flinched away from them with a panicked groan and stepped back. What they were saying did, in a way, cut straight to the heart of the matter. But considering what was happening right now in Academy City, he couldn’t just answer them, so…

“O-oh, come on, everyone! You’re just seeing that especially charming part of Mr. Kamijou’s yearly routine! I’m not like this all year round or anything. Come on, everyone wants to look cool for no good reason at least two or three times a year, right?!”

His immediate, shouted reply earned him only cold answers like, “…Only twice, now?” and “I don’t think three is a high enough number…”

After that, they continued to nag and complain to him for a while. But after venting every bit of their mental haze and murk, they seemed to brighten up a bit and started walking at a normal pace again.

“The next event’s in a few minutes…,” Mikoto said as she walked. “Argh! After all that, I don’t feel like I rested enough. And I’m super cold now that I was in the air-conditioning for so long. I hope my muscles haven’t tightened up.” She pretended to stretch out her arms.

Kamijou, next to her, watched and said, “…You’re oddly gung-ho about this. Did you find a rival in your school for young ladies or something?”

“…” She paused mid-stretch. “You…You couldn’t have forgotten about our bet, could you?”

“Huh? The one where whoever’s school gets a lower score has to listen to whatever the other says, right? The punishment game? Oh, I’m fine. Hey, did you see the points? Tokiwadai isn’t that far in the lead right now.”

“D-don’t seem so relaxed! Hmph. Our school is known for the pressure we put on in the second half. That attitude of yours won’t last…Hey, wait! Listen to me! You’re just gonna speed-walk away from me?!”

Zip zap!! Electricity lanced out of Mikoto’s bangs several times, but despite being at point-blank range, Kamijou’s right hand blew them all away.

He was shouting in his head, Holy crap! What the heck is she doing?! and trembling head to toe with tears in his eyes, but he was completely unscathed after one of the city’s seven Level Five’s direct attacks. In the end, with her esper pride in tatters, without even the opportunity to tell him off, she yelled, “Why doesn’t at least one hit you?!” and ran off at a blistering speed. Kamijou worried a little about whether she warmed up properly before doing that.

Then Index, who had been silently holding the calico until then, spoke up. “…Listen to whatever the other says?”

“No!! Not everything, Index! There are limits, of course! Please refrain from any crazy delusions of an erotic persuasion that you might have in your head right now, ma’am, and rest assured!!”

“I-I wasn’t thinking anything like that!!” Gwoarrr!! Her mouth opened wide, but once again, she froze mid-motion. She had stopped in a weird position, one where he wasn’t sure whether she’d grab him or not. Her mouth opened and closed a few times.

Kamijou shivered, thinking, Gahhh!! I don’t want her to bite me, but it’s really hard on me when she’s this weird about it! This unresolved situation is suffocating me!! How am I supposed to turn it around?!

Using this chance to properly tell her to stop biting him from now on was one choice, but if he slipped up when he did it, he was scared he’d just prolong the awkwardness. What the hell is this “one step before getting confessed to by a childhood friend” dilemma, anyway?! he thought in terror.

Meanwhile, Index, still locked up stiff, decided to avert the topic from the biting. “T-Touma. I think my throat is a little itchy. I want some of the fruit juice they were selling over there.”

“…Another forced course correction…”

“It doesn’t matter! I want something to drink, okay?!” she cried, grabbing Kamijou’s hand and pulling it. No biting, but she’s totally fine with grabbing my hand? he thought. He couldn’t quite get a handle on her decision-making process.

“Err, wait, wait a minute, Index! You just ate lunch a few minutes ago. If you keep wolfing down every food and drink you see, you’ll get fat.”

“Wha…?” The calico fell to the ground from the arms of the cheerleader uniform–wearing Index. After it nimbly plopped down, it did a kitty jump to get back into her arms.

Index was so red in the face, she could have started steaming. “N-no I won’t! I may eat just a little bit more food than other people, but I’ll never get fat, and then you’ll be totally wrong about me!!”

“Really? You know about body weight, body fat, your waist…Are you making sure to measure all that? Maybe your defensive power is going up and you just don’t know it.” Kamijou stared at Index’s belly.

Unlike her normal thick habit, the extremely thin cheerleading uniform stuck tightly to her skin, openly displaying the outline of her body. She wore a tank top as well, so he could see her belly button clearly.

“I-if you don’t believe me, just measure my stomach! I’m ready anytime!”

“Yeah, but I’m not! Do I look like I go around everywhere with a tape measure, Index?!”

“You don’t need one of those! Just put your arms around my waist and you’ll see!!”

Huh? Kamijou’s eyes became pinpoints.

“Come on! Do it, Touma!!”

The cheer girl’s slender hands latched onto the frozen boy’s arms.

Darn it…How could I forget the announcement? I must have been really losing it…

After leaving Kamijou, Mikoto was running double-time back down the road they’d walked through.

The event schedule was listed in the Daihasei Festival pamphlet printed by Academy City. But it was a schedule that had been made in advance. Several factors had already caused changes to be made for the day.

They decided before lunch break to change the time of the bread-eating race Tokiwadai Middle School would be taking part in. She needed to inform her mother, Misuzu, or she’d end up waiting for Mikoto in a stadium that had nothing to do with her school.

Mikoto’s cell phone was in the bag she’d given to the Garden of Learning’s storage officer, and there were no public phones around, either. So now, just to say one or two words, she had to run full speed through the city.

Misuzu was already heading to the next field and probably wasn’t at the café where they’d eaten lunch. Still, it would be easier to go back along the road they’d taken partway if she wanted to follow her mother.

Then someone began moving alongside her with beautiful form as Mikoto continued her running.

It was a girl covered in bandages riding a wheelchair with its wheels adjusted for sports use—Kuroko Shirai.

She was wounded and a visitor, so she was wearing Tokiwadai Middle School’s summer uniform, with the short-sleeve blouse under a beige summer sweater and a gray pleated skirt. Her brown hair was tied back with ribbons in twin tails, and it flew up and behind her in the wind.

“Big Sisteeeer! Where are you off to in such a hurry? Would you like to use my teleportation? I can use my ability even if my limbs are hurt, so there isn’t a single problem here!”

“…As soon as I say yes, you’re going to hug me, so I’ll pass.”

“Damn!! I should have expected that from you, Big Sister! You see right through me! I was only trying to refill some of my Big Sister energy, since I haven’t had enough of it in the hospital!!”

A tingling chill went down Mikoto’s spine. She put an extra few steps between her and Shirai. After a long, sparkling smile, Shirai suddenly seemed to come out of it.

“But Big Sister, where are you hurrying to…? N-no! You’re not going to that gentleman—I mean that rotten ape-man and asking him to come cheer for you…?!”

“N-no, I’m not, stupid! In fact, we’re enemies right now!!”

“Oh? But that gentleman would appear to be in front of us right now.”

Mikoto sighed—at least she’d made it that far now. She casually looked away from Shirai and in front of her.

And there…

A boy and a silver-haired, green-eyed cheer girl were facing each other.

He was squatting down, arms wrapped around her waist, and he was pressing his cheek to her belly.

Mikoto tried to shout, “What?!” but it came out as only a dumbfounded groan.

Despite the Daihasei Festival, this road held no other human presence but theirs. It was a good thing, too, because that boy was shamelessly hugging the green-eyed girl’s waist, who was one or two times slenderer than Mikoto. A boy hugging a girl was already a completely out-of-the-ordinary situation, but what the heck did he have to squat down and get his face on her stomach for? Mikoto was speechless.

As she stood there agape, Shirai spoke with an exaggerated, theatrical voice as she sat in her sports wheelchair. “Ho-ho—I wonder how many months pregnant she is. Maybe they can feel kicking in her belly…pfft.”

Though she was clearly joking, Mikoto was shivering madly all over. Pale-blue sparks snapped and crackled from her bangs, going every which way.

She could fire a spear of lightning, but it wouldn’t get past the boy’s right hand.

In all likelihood, he would have no trouble emerging unharmed even if she hit him with Railgun.

But still, Mikoto tightened her right hand into a fist and shouted,

“Youuu…Eat this, you freaking pervert!!”

She charged at the boy, swung her fist up, and punched him with as much force as she could muster.

“Gohhaaaaaaahhhhh?!”

Unexpectedly launched away from the side, Kamijou found himself torn from Index before rolling onto the road. The back of his head, which had been struck, and his limbs, which scraped across the road, stung with pain.

The strangely soft sensation of the girl’s stomach under his cheek, the slight sense of sweat moisture, the sweet scent and warmth, and other various factors had all overlapped to put Kamijou in a state of dizziness, and then Mikoto’s blow finally snapped him out of it. Which also meant he gained physical distance from Index. He wondered why he wasn’t happy at all for killing two birds with one stone.

“Huh…? That hit him?”

But it was Mikoto, the one who punched him, who murmured dumbly.

Kamijou lay on the ground and started to twitch. Ooh…No, this time, it was for the better. That strange pinkish air surrounding Index and me…It wasn’t possible for me to get out of there with my own power. But no, well…Why didn’t the world give me a resolution that was a little gentler?!

Half crying like a little kid, he rubbed his eyes. But what he felt wasn’t his familiar hand—it was the sensation of thin cloth. Satin, perhaps—a smooth, slightly slick fabric. Wait, what is this? he thought, reassessing the situation. It was a white cloth, folded several times like one of those paper fans used in comedy routines.

It was a pleated skirt.

The one Index had been wearing.

“..............................................................................”

The skirt had become just a wide piece of cloth, its side zipper torn vertically.

When he put his hands around Index’s waist, he must have been grabbing her skirt. He’d been punched away, which meant he must have torn it off as he went.

But that means…

Kamijou looked up from his hands very, very slowly.

There he saw Index, motionless, her face bright red. She was still in a cheerleading outfit, but the outfit had been reduced to the light-green tank top. The skirt below that was absent—because Kamijou was holding it.

Not only was the silver-haired, green-eyed girl’s navel visible now, but her underwear and the tips of her thighs as well. Actually, strictly speaking, it was under-clothing, like a tennis player’s skort. He could see the glossy light-green satin cloth sticking tightly to her skin. And though it was obviously an illusion on his part, he kind of thought he could see certain things being outlined by the wrinkles in her underwear, so he couldn’t bear to look closely (after having so elaborately explained it to himself).

“~~~~!!”

Index used the calico in her hands to frantically try and hide her lower section, but that obviously wasn’t going to completely guard her. In fact, her desperate, red-faced attempt to remove herself from Kamijou’s sight was oddly provocative.

He looked between the view in front of him and the glossy skirt in his hands in turn.

I’m dead. In five seconds, my skull will be wide open. Not just by her front teeth but by her canines and molars, too. Look forward to it!…No, wait. Index is being weirdly awkward about biting me right now! That means I might still be able to survive, doesn’t it?!

After discovering the hope at the end of despair, he started to calculate how he’d get out of here, but he was too late.

“…Wait right there, you.”

“…It has certainly been a while, good sir. ”

Mikoto Misaka’s and Kuroko Shirai’s cold voices echoed simultaneously.

“…”

Kamijou slowly looked to them. The girl with bluish-white sparks popping from her bangs took a coin out of her pocket that looked like the kind you’d use in an arcade. The girl sitting in the sports wheelchair boldly flicked up her skirt and pulled dangerous-looking metal darts from her thigh.

“Look, it’s not like I need to stand up for that girl…”

“And Big Sister’s enemy is my enemy, too! ”

Though they were suggesting they were not enthused, the voltage from them seemed to reach its peak. Index, his last resort, was bright red and immediately hid herself behind Mikoto.

So…I guess it’s all over for me…

He slumped tiredly and put a hand to his forehead before saying one last thing, sore loser that he was.

“Wait! Right now we need to do something about Index’s skirt, so let’s stop the pointless arguing and put our heads together because I think that would be the best thing we could do right now so how does that peaceful resolution sound to you it doesn’t sound good does it no it doesn’t I’m so sorry!!”

He had been trying to excuse himself, but the moment he finished his sentence, the two girls took that as his final will and testament and attacked.

8

Just as he was about to be filled with holes from a railgun and metal darts, Kamijou fled all over the place until finally finding a bench and plopping down onto it, tired.

Index, her clothing lost, went off somewhere with Mikoto and Shirai, deciding her torn skirt had to be fixed (apparently—Kamijou had left her behind when he ran away, and after Mikoto caught him, that was all she told him). He wondered if they were going to use safety pins again.

Blech…

He checked the clock displayed on his cell phone screen to see that it was nearly three o’clock. He’d gotten no messages from either Motoharu Tsuchimikado or Stiyl Magnus.

Considering Oriana and Lidvia’s goal was not to give a Soul Arm to someone else in Academy City but to activate the Soul Arm there instead, it was possible they were just hiding out in a single place, like a hotel room, to evade pursuit. Because of that, Stiyl said, their current method of trying to ruin the deal and catching Oriana and Lidvia on the run might be too difficult. Right now they were apparently trying to find the usage conditions for the Soul Arm, the Croce di Pietro. With Oriana no longer anywhere in sight, they had no clues as to their location. This was the only thing they could rely on.

If their enemy, the Roman Orthodox Church, aimed to take control of Academy City by using the Croce di Pietro, then they wouldn’t have to wait around like this. They would just have used it right off the bat. They didn’t, though, and Tsuchimikado took that as proof of it requiring special conditions.

If they couldn’t use the Croce di Pietro without meeting those conditions first, then as long as those prerequisites couldn’t be met, Oriana and Lidvia’s plan could be prevented. Simple pursuit was hopeless now, and this was the only path left to them to fight back against the two ladies infiltrating the city.

Still…

“…This is taking a while,” Kamijou muttered to himself.

It had been hours since they last saw Oriana. He had nothing to do, but he wondered if it was okay for him to be relaxing like this. He couldn’t help but feel impatient, not knowing when and where the Croce di Pietro would be used.

What stung his heart the hottest…

…was that he had an instant-win trump card.

Index…

She had perfect recall; she had 103,000 grimoires recorded in her head—a living library of magical tomes. Her vast stores of knowledge would obviously have information on the Croce di Pietro.

It went without saying that the quickest solution was to ask her. Asking Index about anything sorcery-related, whether it was the Croce di Pietro or whatever else, would get him an answer in less than five seconds. In fact, the English Puritan Church’s organization, Necessarius, had created the “index of forbidden books” for this exact purpose.

If he asked her, he’d know right away. But at the same time, he wasn’t allowed to ask her. Because of those magicians outside the city…He’d been told there were many sorcery faction outfits outside the city, both large and small. If they noticed magic being used in Academy City, the lot of them would probably bust right into the place. Unfortunately, not all of them were cooperative toward Academy City. Some would surely use the chance to commit sabotage—they couldn’t get into the city under normal circumstances.

The greater part of them seemed to be using spells outside the city, trying to detect any trace of mana. And the idea was that they were centering those searches around Index. Many sorcery-related incidents had occurred near her in the past, so they believed that if something were to happen, it would be there.

Which meant…If I bring Index near the center of this incident, their searching spells might detect Oriana’s and Lidvia’s mana. So we can’t get Index involved in this one. We can’t let her get close. Even allowing her a faint whiff of something happening would be dangerous.

Index had immense knowledge when it came to sorcery. She wouldn’t let a slight trace of sorcery out of her sight. And if she got one single hint, given her personality, she would definitely jump straight into the fray without a second thought even if Kamijou shouted at her not to come.

“Jeez. Someone who can give me a hint is in front of me and I can’t even ask if it’s right or wrong, because as soon as I do, it’s over. Damn it, this is one crazy dilemma,” he said, unwittingly sighing, when—

“What. What kind of. Dilemma?”

Suddenly he heard a voice beside him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Surprised, he turned to see someone had sat down beside him without his realizing. It was a girl with long black hair in a gym uniform: Aisa Himegami. She wore the school-designated short sleeves and shorts, but there would be a silver cross necklace under her clothing. And indeed, a thin chain looped around her collarbone and neck, hidden by her black hair. The chain went down and disappeared below her neckline, into her gym clothes.

“H-Himegami? What are you doing here…?”

“I was worried about something. I was looking for you.”

I wonder what it is? he thought. Aisa Himegami was never very expressive, so normally he couldn’t really tell if she was angry or happy or what. Right now, if she said, “I’m hungry,” he’d believe her. And if she said, “I want a cat,” he wouldn’t doubt her at all.

So he honestly asked, “What are you worried about?”

“Well. Miss Komoe. She was making trouble. She seemed very mad about something.”

“???” Kamijou decided to follow after Himegami for now. She took his hand and started pulling it off in a different direction.

Suddenly, he looked down to their clasped hands. His long stare made Himegami frown slightly. “Is something. The matter?”

“Hmm. It’s not a big deal or anything, but I was just thinking you don’t really mind stuff like this.”

“”

As soon as he said that, Himegami jerked her hand. Her face was still impassive, but he could see a slight tinge of red in it. She put the hand to her chest and began to put her other hand on top of it. Apparently she did mind it—a lot. She just didn’t let it show.

Aisa Himegami ended up bringing him to a relatively large park.

Because lunch break was over, not many people were around. The Daihasei Festival was still the main event right now, and most of the athletes and spectators were on their way toward the stadiums. Most of the people coming and going on the streets were basically either going from one stadium to another or picking out souvenirs for themselves. The spectators in particular had made time to travel all the way to Academy City and stay overnight. They spent a lot of energy watching the events, but they wouldn’t just be lazing around.

In one corner of the sparsely populated park, there was a bench. In front of the bench was Miss Komoe, in the same cheerleading uniform as Index, acting mad. She was passionately going on about smoking manners and minors smoking or something.

On the other hand, the second person on the bench—the sorcerer Stiyl Magnus—was barely listening to her. He was smiling, not in a defeated way from the lecture but in more of a “I’m really getting tired of this” sort of way.

Miss Komoe seemed to be trying to confiscate the box of cigarettes from Stiyl, but he was tossing it from one hand to another like a beanbag, and her hands couldn’t keep up. From a distance, the leaping and dodging kind of looked like a puppy playing with a gumball.

“There. There. Miss Komoe. And the person who came to save me last time. They’re arguing. I don’t know what to do.”

Himegami looked uncharacteristically lost as she watched. For she owed her life to both Miss Komoe, of course, and Stiyl Magnus, who helped during the Misawa Cram School incident with the scheming alchemist Aureolus. She probably didn’t want them to get into a fight with each other.

But as soon as Kamijou saw the perfume-stinking priest’s face, he felt utterly exasperated. “Uhh…Himegami, don’t feel like you have to stop them. He needs to get a good scolding from Miss Komoe for his own sake. While she’s at it, he really needs a lecture on the way he’s lived his entire life.”

Himegami’s face weakened even more at his words. “But. The person with the cigarettes. He seems worried. And he’s looking this way.”

“That idiot is so happy a little girl is clinging to him that he could die. Just leave him alone. He’ll be fine.”

“But. Miss Komoe’s face is all red. She looks like she’s tired. Of being angry.”

“Our teacher’s smile gets bigger for every bad child she sees. Just leave her alone. She’ll be fine.” Kamijou sighed, shaking his head.

Miss Komoe noticed them, and without stopping her attempt to grab the cigarette box out of the air, called out, “Oh, Kami!! Don’t just stand there watching! Help your teacher! This boy smokes so much, it’s scary! Please stop throwing that box and just give it to meee!”

Without any other options, Kamijou started walking over to them. After looking at Miss Komoe, he moved his gaze to Stiyl on the bench and said, “…Good for you. There’s still someone in this world who will get mad at you.”

“I’ll agree with that statement wholeheartedly, Touma Kamijou. But I need to be doing something else right now. She won’t leave me alone.”

As Stiyl spoke, with the cigarette box moving through the air, he casually realigned his collar to hide his pointing at the cell phone strap in his breast pocket. There was a light in the shape of a skull blinking on and off, the epitome of poor taste. He was getting a call. After indicating it, he caught the cigarette box in the air with a natural motion and began playing beanbag again with Miss Komoe.

If someone was calling this man…then it must have been a member of the English Puritan Church. He obviously couldn’t let Miss Komoe hear any information related to the Croce di Pietro.

“Ah! You threw it over there?!”

As Kamijou considered all the pieces of the situation, he noticed something go whooshing past his face out of the corner of his eye as Miss Komoe spoke. He caught it frantically to see that it was a box of cigarettes, of a brand one would see in the movies sometimes.

Ignoring Miss Komoe’s words, Stiyl put up his index finger and middle fingers, then brought the balls of his fingers toward his mouth. And now he’s blowing a totally gross kiss?! thought Kamijou, having readied himself pretty seriously only to realize a moment later that it was a smoking gesture.

Oh. Kamijou pounded his hand with a fist, then stuck the box of cigarettes out to Himegami.

“Himegami, you got a lighter?”

She took a moment, then said, “Huh?”

Miss Komoe whipped herself around at them. “Kami! It’s pointless to play the rebel here! And Hime, you need to be more forceful in stopping him!!”

Bam bam bam bam bam!! Miss Komoe stomped over at an incredible speed. When Stiyl saw it, he took the cell phone out of his breast pocket, put it to his ear, and began walking away to who knows where.

I hope it’s info on the Croce di Pietro. If it’s not, then my being here and getting lectured—in the present tense—is all for nothing. Wait, I have zero intent to smoke a cigarette! How am I supposed to untangle this misunderstanding now?!

Miss Komoe, at this point, had gone beyond the realm of simple anger. Now her eyes were starting to water. Kamijou began to feel seriously panicked, but then he felt his own phone vibrating this time.

Who could that be? he wondered with a tilt of his head, reaching for his shorts pocket.

“Kami! Turn off your cell phone while I’m lecturing you, please!!”

“Yikes!!”

Miss Komoe’s snarl made Kamijou flinch away. His hand dropped the box of cigarettes, which she caught in midair. He used the chance to pull his cell phone out of his pocket in one quick motion. A glance at the screen told him it was Motoharu Tsuchimikado.

If he’s trying to get in touch with me, does it mean Oriana and Lidvia are on the move…? That’s bad. I can’t be goofing around like this if that’s the case. But I can’t let Miss Komoe hear anything about the incident…

As Miss Komoe yelled, “Kami!!” after him, he shuffled behind Aisa Himegami to hide. Then he suddenly grabbed both her shoulders, causing the black-haired girl to flush a bit, but he didn’t notice because he was behind her.

He took only a moment to consider how to get out of this situation. “Argh! Himegami, it’s up to you! I stopped Miss Komoe and Stiyl from arguing like you wanted to, so you handle the rest!!”

He followed his practically desperate shout by running away. Miss Komoe started running after him. Or at least she tried.

“Wah! What are you doing, Hime?! Please don’t hug your teacher out of nowhere like that!!”

She seemed to have politely kept her promise, and he wasn’t followed after that. Kamijou, telling himself he’d buy okonomiyaki or something at one of the stalls after this, ran all the way out of the park in one burst.

It must have been something important, because the ringtone from Tsuchimikado was still playing, even though quite a bit of time had already passed. A moment before it connected him to the answering machine service, Kamijou pushed the call button on his cell phone.

“Yo, Kammy! Stiyl’s line’s busy—is he there, nya?! If you know where he is, I need you to tell him something!”

“Eh?” Kamijou thought for a moment. “…Oh. Yeah, someone contacted him, too. You calling about Oriana? They’re not trying to do anything crazy and terrible again, are they?!”

“No, it’s not really that important…But you should know this, too. I was using…er, special methods to poke around in Academy City’s security systems. The ones Anti-Skill and Judgment use, nya~. Mechanical devices can’t deal with sorcery, so I didn’t expect much…but I got a hit.”

All the hair on Kamijou’s body stood on end.

Tsuchimikado continued. “About three minutes ago, in District 5—the one next to us—she was spotted leaving the Seibusan subway station exit. But that’s it. Maybe she used magic to block visual information, or maybe she just slipped past the cameras’ blind spots. I can’t tell.”

“Three minutes…That’s tough.” School District 5 was at the very least more than four kilometers from here. How far would Oriana have moved if he started heading there now?

“We don’t need to completely corner Oriana. If she got to Seibusan Station, we can get Stiyl to use a searching spell, nya~. Once we get a precise location, we all rush in. And then it’s over.”

A searching spell. The one named Four Ways to Truth, right? It was originally Tsuchimikado’s spell, but Stiyl had been the one using it. It allowed the caster to search about three kilometers out from his current position. It could be used only if they had a magical Soul Arm that the target was using, but they had one of Oriana’s note-card pages in their possession already.

“If she goes farther than three kilometers, she’ll get outside the search range. We need to go four kilometers before we can even start looking. Are we gonna make it?!”

“That’s why we gotta hurry, Kammy. Use a self-driving bus or a train or whatever, just find Stiyl and get to the place as soon as you can!!”

He hung up.

As long as they couldn’t really figure out the Croce di Pietro’s usage conditions, it was highly probable that this was their last chance. In fact, they needed to go at this under the impression that if they didn’t catch her, it would all be over.

“Shit. Stiyl!!” he shouted, taking a detour around where Aisa Himegami and Miss Komoe were and returning to the park. Right now, Stiyl was the only one who could use Four Ways to Truth to track down Oriana.

As he ran, he worked his brain up to full throttle. The one good part about all this was that Oriana might not have realized they’d spotted her. If she was running away as fast as she could, they probably wouldn’t make it in time.

She was walking. He was running.

They would just have to make up for the distance and lack of time with speed.

INTERLUDE FOUR

Seiri Fukiyose was sitting on a bench in the waiting room of a hospital.

According to the frog-faced doctor, all the necessary treatment had been finished, and he told her it was okay to walk around freely, if only inside the building. The nurse laughed, saying something about it being a blessing in disguise and how normally it would have been a lot worse. Thanks a lot, she thought.

Fukiyose had gotten out of her assigned bed and decided to take a walk around the hospital, partly to check on her condition, but…

“…Ugh.”

She put a hand to her temple and lightly shook her head.

Before she made it to the elevator, a mild dizziness had come from the core of her head. This was the reason she’d been assigned a bed—meaning that not only would she undergo a medical examination but that she’d be here for a whole day.

The doctors could cure the intense headaches and strong bodily reactions that stemmed from severe sunstroke, but the stamina she’d lost would just have to recover slowly. Though she had no conspicuous wounds or symptoms on the outside, her body was in a state that was hard to call ideal.

She looked at the small button in her hands. It was a miniature mechanical box, about the size of a box of matches. They told her it was a portable nurse call button, but since radio-wave usage wasn’t desirable inside the hospital, it was apparently just a device that made a loud buzzing noise.

It might have been an improved version of the crime prevention buzzers sold in stores, but one could tell from the fact she was given such a thing in the first place that her body wasn’t in good shape.

She cast her gaze around. The space also had its own smoking section. It was a small place near the elevator, and though there were no walls setting it apart, there was a kind of ditch running in a straight line along the floor for where you went in. It was the air-cleaning vent; it created a curtain of air. A very small bench looped around inside the square space, and in the middle of it, there was a cylindrical ashtray.

She ignored the smoking facilities and looked over to the wall, her mind still hazy. There were four juice vending machines lined up on it.

“…If I have to recover my stamina, maybe a sports drink is what I need.”

Her words didn’t have their usual zeal, either. Just standing up from the bench sent a minor wave of pain from her right temple to her left. I don’t think I can return to this afternoon’s events, she thought, frowning and moving slowly to the vending machines.

She held her digital wallet–enabled cell phone to the reader. The buttons all lit up at once. “Which means the ideal option would be…sugar, or amino acids, or minerals, or maybe…Ah-choo!”

As she thought about it, she sneezed. As her head wobbled forward, her forehead rammed into one of the buttons on the machine. Clatter-clatter came the noise as a type of juice completely unrelated to her own ideas came tumbling out.

As her throbbing headache tormented her, she checked what it was: a strange-looking can with the words Condensed Milk Cider written on it.

“…I am the very image of poor health.”

She nearly crushed the can in her hand by accident, but she obviously couldn’t just throw it away. At a loss as to what to do now, she turned back the way she came, deciding to walk to her own room.

She thought the cold, inorganic hallway she walked down looked like a desert you could find on the Silk Road. If she was feeling this ill inside the hospital, it wasn’t hard to imagine what would happen if she tried to run around outside under the blazing heat of summertime.

Jeez. When…will I…? She sighed as she walked, dragging herself…When can I go back to work? That idiot better not be cutting loose while I’m not around.