CHAPTER 3

Misaka and Misaka’s Little Sisters
Sister_and_Sisters.

1

Touma Kamijou sat down on a bench in a small plaza (nonsmoking) in the underground mall meant for meeting up with people, drinking his small two hundred–milliliter bottle of oolong tea.

He was all alone for the moment.

Kuroko Shirai, who had been around here until a short time ago after Mikoto Misaka shoved her away, had disappeared somewhere with her teleport ability, shouting, “I only did what I did out of consideration for you, Big Sister! To think my kindness would turn into a double-edged sword…!!” Despite the interruption, Mikoto had returned to the service store to finish her cell phone sign-up paperwork or something. Kamijou had actually been with her the first time, but they’d left in the middle. Incidentally, the peculiar ace of Tokiwadai Middle School was inside the shop right now, eyes glittering after she learned she could get a Croaker and a Hoppit at the same time. It was a pain to talk to people in that state, though, so being away from her was the better option.

“…I hope she calms down soon.” Kamijou sighed, glancing at his cell phone screen. It was hard to tell since they were underground, but it was already past four in the afternoon. There was a lot of paperwork and forms to fill out, after all, but he still couldn’t help thinking about how much time this errand had taken.

Then, as he relaxed on the bench, Mikoto Misaka returned.

“Hey, you’re done already?” asked Kamijou.

In response, Mikoto stayed silent for some reason and turned her face slightly aside. She looked like she could have been hesitating, but he didn’t remember doing anything to make her worry over a simple answer. He crooked his head. “What? What happened? Oh, you’re not carrying a bag with your new cell phone in it or anything. Did something come up?”

“N-no, Misaka is…” Mikoto waved her hands around in a smooth motion that produced no noise, then eventually put a hand to her forehead. “…This Misaka is the Misaka who is usually wearing goggles, says Misaka, informing you of her serial code of number 10032 so you can reassess the situation.”

“Wait, are you Little Misaka?”

Little Misaka nodded briskly.

She had the same body as Mikoto Misaka down to her hair follicles, so maybe nobody could blame him for getting them confused. Rugged-looking night vision goggles always sat on her forehead, but for some reason she didn’t have them today.

Something unique seemed to be going on with her today as well. “…Have you seen a Misaka who is about this size? asks Misaka, placing her palm horizontally a little below her chest.”

She was describing a height about the same as Komoe or a little shorter. As Kamijou watched her gestures, his expression became dubious. “You guys can change your sizes and stuff?”

“Based on your reaction, you don’t seem to know, says Misaka, disillusioned with your uselessness while continuing to calculate that asshole’s escape route.”

Little Misaka sighed slightly. As she readjusted her schoolbag, Kamijou heard a dull, metallic click from inside.

She’s not too happy again, thought Kamijou.

She continued, “To put it plainly, Misaka’s goggles have been stolen, reports Misaka with a grim face. Without those goggles, it is difficult to distinguish between Misaka and the original, so I must recover them as soon as possible—but my current situation could be called very disadvantageous, says Misaka, secretly asking for help with upturned eyes.”

“…”

That high-handedness seemed to be shared between the older and younger Sisters. He made a face. “Yeah, you could be mistaken for Mikoto like that, huh?”

“Yes, affirms Misaka in response. Earlier, while running down a street with a submachine gun in one hand, I was suddenly shouted at by a female student in twin tails and had a rough time, says Misaka, seriously describing a tale of hardship.”

“Err…Twin tails…”

Kamijou had an inkling who that person might have been, but he could only pray she didn’t harm Mikoto’s daily life in any way. And he thought he heard a dangerous term mixed in there—submachine gun?—but hoping it was only something he misheard was all he could manage.

“Anyway, you probably want something to tell you apart from Mikoto, at least until you get your goggles back.”

“Are you telling Misaka to become a forehead character? wonders Misaka.”

“Wipe that term from your memory right now.” Who taught her that? thought Kamijou in all seriousness. “It doesn’t have to be your forehead. Hmm. You’re wearing the exact same uniform, too…What if you just took off your blazer?”

“I was not aware you had the hobby of demanding people remove their clothing in public, says Misaka, not quite understanding the benefit but following your instruction for now.”

“Pfft?! Why did you suddenly put your hands on your skirt?! I get it, I get it! Don’t take anything off— Hey, how about you put on an accessory instead that should make you stand out?!!”

“I have no decorations of the sort on hand, and purchasing one seems costly, says Misaka, making an appeal to her domestic nature with a practical response.”

I’m gonna have to ask that frog-faced doctor about their living environment at some point, Kamijou promised to himself. “Well, there’s a whole world of different accessories out there. It’s fine as long as people can tell you apart. I’m sure you could buy something with one thousand yen at a place around here. I mean, if it was that cheap, I’d buy it for you.”

“You’d buy…?”

“But what? A girl talking about accessories…Maybe a ring would work.”

“…A ring.”

For some reason, Little Misaka fell silent.

Kamijou didn’t notice at all. “Actually, a ring probably wouldn’t stand out enough. Gotta be something that really tells the world, you know? Maybe a skull mask would— Oww?!”

As soon as he reconsidered, he received a punch from the expressionless Little Misaka.

2

“The stupid brat disappeared?”

Accelerator’s voice echoed in the big living room.

He was pretty sure Last Order was in her specifically assigned room taking a nap or something, but according to Yomikawa, she wasn’t in the apartment.

The tracksuit-wearing woman shook her head a little. “This place has auto-locks like in hotels, so if you just want to go outside, you don’t need a key. So I’m thinking she might have gone out to play on her own.”

“This is a big complex, so she could also be playing in an elevator or stairs or a hallway,” Yoshikawa supposed.

Accelerator had a bad feeling about this.

He didn’t believe the optimistic idea that human nature was fundamentally good. He’d come across far too much evil in his life for that.

…When did I last see the squirt?

He looked at the clock hanging on the wall.

The current time was four thirty PM. It could have been one or two in the afternoon when he woke up from his post-lunch nap and tried to shower.

Two hours at the most, I guess. With that much time, a pro could’ve killed her, buried the body, and gotten away.

Accelerator and Last Order were alike in that they were both incredibly valuable research specimens. The “experiment” they’d been entangled in was suspended at the moment, but it wouldn’t be strange at all for someone else to come up and try to use the research for their own gain.

Actually, he didn’t need to put it in terms of net gain or calculations. Someone could have just said, “I’m an acquaintance of the Accelerator” and marked him for some kind of attack. Now that he’d lost the title of Academy City’s strongest, he was nothing more than a target.

Accelerator sucked his teeth loudly in frustration, then adjusted the modern crutch holding him up. “I’m going out.”

“Well, I think she’s just playing around nearby, yeah?” Yomikawa remarked in an awfully relaxed tone, causing him to shoot her an angry glare. “I mean, she left a message on the answering machine.”

“…” Accelerator quieted, then pressed the message playback button on the rather large home answering machine sitting next to the phone, fax machine, and copier.

After a shrill, electronic beep, “Um, Misaka is playing tag with one of the Misaka network nodes right now, reports Misaka reports Misaka. I can’t come back right away, but I hope you make some dinner for me, requests Misaka requests Misaka and stuff.”

He attempted to slam on the phone with his crutch before Yomikawa and Yoshikawa held him back. Without his ability, all he could do was flail around helplessly.

Now that his hair and clothes were messed up, Accelerator, gasping for breath, muttered, “…Most annoying brat on the face of the planet.”

“Ah-ha-ha,” laughed Yomikawa. “That’s how relationships work.” She left her arms tightly around his torso, afraid he might still try to break the phone. In that position, her big chest pressed against him, but he didn’t seem to care at all.

“You won’t find any relationships that are always convenient for you, ’kay? Being free and nobody getting in your way—all that really means is that nobody will notice you no matter what you do.” She let her arms down. “That’s what it means to take root somewhere. The more you interact, the harder it is to do things. But you’ll be just that much stronger against the winds and rain.”

“…”

Listening to adults’ opinions was such a pain.

He wished she’d do something about these lectures—they could be completely on point or absolute misses.

In any event, Accelerator decided it would be a better idea to find Last Order and keep her where he could see her. He was free to act thanks to the weak electromagnetic waves sent and received by the electrodes on his neck, but Last Order was the one at the heart of the Sisters’ activity. He still didn’t understand what the Misaka network was like—not logically, yet he got the gist of it in a sensory way—but if something hampered the network node individuals’ activity, it could affect him as well. Yes, this was all completely for his own sake.

Meanwhile, Yomikawa wore a slightly triumphant look, as though she thought she’d said something good. “Anyway, Kikyou and I will help.”

“Me too?”

“If you don’t want to, then you’ve gotta give up the name Kikyou.”

Yoshikawa looked out the window, not appearing to be ready for much physical activity. “I’ll collapse if I walk for more than an hour outside in one day…,” she muttered.

Accelerator frowned. “The hell are you talking about?”

“We’re gonna go look for her, right?” said Yomikawa like it was obvious, causing Accelerator to fall silent for a moment.

Meanwhile, the tracksuit-wearing woman took the USB memory stick out of the answering machine. “Looks like she’s not in the building, but if we analyze the background noise in the message, we can figure out where to look, yeah? You can just leave everything to the nice Anti-Skill lady!”

“Aiho, don’t abuse your position.”

“Searching for and locating lost children is one of our jobs as keepers of the peace. No problem, right?”

Why the hell does she look like she’s having fun? Accelerator thought.

Yomikawa grinned at him, the memory stick in her hand. “This is called a mutually beneficial relationship, ’kay?”

“You mean tripping over each other’s feet?”

“It’s scratching each other’s backs,” Yoshikawa said with a sigh as they set up their Last Order search net.

3

Little Misaka was in a very irritable mood.

In a corner of the underground mall, Touma Kamijou was trembling in constant fear.

In the end, he’d bought her a cheap necklace that came to exactly one thousand yen after consumption tax, but he was beginning to think there was another source causing this state of anger. Sometimes she would fidget and mumble things like “a ring…” and “Misaka’s ring finger on her left hand…” What could she possibly have been worrying about?

“Um, Little Misaka?”

“…”

“If you don’t like the necklace that much, then we can return it…”

“…Please do not steal anything more from Misaka, says Misaka in a soft but serious voice.”

…So she likes the actual necklace, right? wondered Kamijou. He couldn’t even guess what she was agonizing over. Plus, he was starting to think about Mikoto, since she hadn’t come back out of the store yet. And now Little Misaka was like this. When it rains, it pours.

Anyway, I should try to cheer her up, Kamijou considered, flustered, looking around. “Hmm? They’re selling sweets. Let’s eat some, Little Misaka.”

The reason he immediately diverted the conversation to the topic of food was probably because of the pure-white sister Index’s influence. That’s not a reflex I’m proud of, he thought with self-disgust.

Meanwhile, Misaka looked at him, face blank. “Trying to buy me with gifts, are you? says Misaka, attempting a frank assertion.”

“Ahh?!”

“However, you took such action in consideration for Misaka, so Misaka will respect your intent, says Misaka, deciding to take you up on your kindness.”

Well, Kamjiou had her stamp of approval, so he headed for the store.

It was a small store the size of an ice cream shop, its counter right up to the mall path. They sold small pastries shaped like animals such as baby birds and puppies. They looked somewhat like octopus balls, takoyaki, but they were probably made of hotcake dough and filled with custard cream. They were like the fish-shaped sweets, taiyaki, but using western fillings like cheese and custard.

The animal patterns were created directly from molds on a black metal pan.

Behind the counter stood a smiling older girl who looked like she was in college. “Do you know what you’d like?”

“Do different animals have different flavors? Like different fillings?”

“No, not at all. If we don’t make them all the same, we can’t collect data.”

“…?”

“Well, you know how people will unconditionally like certain designs just for how they look or feel for no logical reason? If you figure that out, you can apply it to fields like clothing and makeup. This is like a survey where we tally up how many of each animal gets chosen.”

Kamijou took a step back and looked at the store’s signboard again.

The signboard made the store obviously look like a rental, and it had a university’s name clearly written on it.

“Well, I guess there’s no harm in it…Which should I choose? I think the baby bird will be good.”

“Coming right up. You’re the fifty-fourth one to choose it. Come again!”

Kamijou took it, but never stopped wondering about whether fifty-four sales of one product meant it was selling well or not.

In the transparent packaging, there were two rows of chicks, with five per row for a total of ten. Melted caramel topped the hotcake-like, yellow dough. Instead of toothpicks, the snack came with two small plastic forks.

“Here, Little Misaka. Eat up.”

“…”

Kamijou put the package in front of her, offering it, but Little Misaka had stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the baby birds.

Actually, it looked more like she was meeting their eyes.

“Um, Little Misaka…?”

“…” She didn’t respond.

Without changing her expression, she began sucking her teeth in a soft chee, chee, chee sound.

Come to think of it, Little Misaka has less experience with the world than me, and I’m an amnesiac. Maybe she doesn’t know how to eat them.

For some reason, she was poking at the baby birds’ beaks with a slender finger, saying something along the lines of “Hmm, what clever birds not to bite me, sighs Misaka in admiration.”

Eventually, Kamijou picked up one of the plastic forks. Then, to lecture Little Misaka, he poked the fork’s prongs into the back of one of the birds as a test.

Little Misaka gave a huge jolt. “Th-the birdy’s little round body is…?! says Misaka in trepidation…Why is that one so obedient? wonders Misaka, since the bird isn’t even chirping.”

“Huh? What’s been going on with you, Little Misaka? If you don’t want them, I’ll eat them all.”

“E-eat them…?!”

As she continued being all fluttery for some reason, Kamijou dubiously put one of the birds in his mouth. When he munched on the soft dough, the expected western pastry–style sweetness spread through his mouth.

“Hey, this thing is pretty good for a trial product.”

Meanwhile, Little Misaka had her eyes glued to the bird’s dotted eyes (made of chocolate) inside the boy’s mouth, and she received quite a shock.

“………………………………………………………………Ev…”

While listening to the sounds of munching, she still watched the bird’s cute face, which looked like it wanted to say something, as it continued to be chewed to bits.

Little Misaka’s whole body was trembling. “Even if it is a trial product! says Misaka, saving the bird’s liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife!!”

“Mghfhr?! Wh-what are you going crazy and sparking around for all of a—?”

Before Kamijou could finish shouting, pale blue sparks sprayed from Little Misaka’s body.

She was Radio Noise—an electrical fault.

Even twenty thousand of them together wouldn’t have strength enough to rival the Railgun.

But he still couldn’t underestimate her.

One twenty-thousandth of a billion volts was still fifty thousand volts.

“Bwah?!”

Unluckily for him, Kamijou had a fork in his left hand and the package of baby birds in his right. In other words, his hands were completely tied—and that’s when the fifty-thousand-volt attack hit him.

Even Imagine Breaker couldn’t deal with that.

The surprise attack sent Kamijou tumbling down to the underground mall floor.

Students moving through the passage whispered among themselves, saying, “Whoa!” and “Did you see that spark just now?!”

“Hah?! cries Misaka, seeing the birds scattered about and coming to her senses!!”

Brought back to normal not by Kamijou, but by the birds—she must have really been obsessed with the things.

She picked up the clear, upside-down package and immediately began returning the baby birds to it.

Her face was the definition of seriousness.

Meanwhile, Kamijou stumbled off the floor a few steps away and up to his feet. “Urgh…Sorry, Little Misaka…”

He apologized, so Little Misaka listened to him as she cradled the package of birds in both hands.

Touma Kamijou spoke. “…Sorry for wasting food like that. But I’ll still eat them even if they fell on the floor because of the three-second rule.”

As he finished talking, Little Misaka kicked him across the floor.

She was breathing heavily and was quite angry now. He couldn’t quite figure out what she was thinking. He guessed she must have really been hungry.

Then…

As he stood there full of question marks, another familiar face approached.

“Uh…What the heck are you two doing?!”

It was Mikoto Misaka, who was looking more at Little Misaka and trotting up to her than Kamijou. In addition to her schoolbag, she was carrying a small paper packet with the phone company logo on it. She shouldn’t have swapped her phone itself, but the paperwork, expansion chip, and mascot straps and stuff were probably in there. Convenience stores and supermarkets had been refraining voluntarily from wasting bags on every little purchase, but it didn’t look like the service store had started any such activities.

“Still, though…,” Kamijou mused aloud.

Mikoto Misaka and Little Misaka.

He really couldn’t tell the difference when they stood next to each other. Nevertheless, twins were nothing unusual, so maybe the people going by in the mall were paying more attention to the Tokiwadai brand. They looked exactly alike, but Little Misaka had a necklace so he wouldn’t mix them up. Thank goodness for that.

Little Misaka answered Mikoto’s question. “Misaka has traveled far to come to this underground mall to recover the goggles stolen from her, replies Misaka, her eyes drawn to the original’s frog mascot. Processing Misaka serial number 20001’s predicted escape route as well as a list of firearms for intercepting her, but Misaka is so engrossed in the frog now that she doesn’t care anymore, says Misaka, giving up.”

“Could you please actually explain?!”

Angry, Mikoto put her Croaker and Hoppit into her schoolbag. Little Misaka’s face didn’t change much, but a tinge of sadness crept into her eyes. She looked down at the bag of baby birds in her hands and thought for a moment. “Misaka will not cheat on you, says Misaka, reaffirming the birds in her hands.”

“Cheat on…What are you talking about?” said Mikoto, giving up. Still, she seemed to have her own interest in the birds’ design.

But Little Misaka gripped them tighter to her chest with both hands. “The original should just stay addicted to her frogs, says Misaka, creating an ironclad defense as though she would take the birds with her to the grave.”

“Mgh. Come on, you could at least just let me look at them.”

“Misaka cannot, and that is final, says Misaka, carrying through with her intent. If you want them so much, then just have him there buy them for you like Misaka did, says Misaka, gesturing with her chin.”

Mikoto spun around to look at Kamijou.

“…” She stayed silent for a few moments, then finally took a deep breath and said, “We were talking about how you lost our bet and had to do anything I said for the punishment game, weren’t we?”

“Huh? What?”

“…You’re specifically assigned to Miss Mikoto and have to stay with her the entire day because of that, right? You’re going to do everything you can, with all your energy, like your life depends on it, right?”

“Why?! Why does the air around you seem like it’s charged right now?!”

“Because even at times like this, you never, ever change!! You go up and talk to all these random people during my punishment game. I didn’t know you liked the sound of a little sister so much, you boneheaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!!”

A billion volts of electricity flew from her bangs, but Kamijou swung his right fist up to repel them. After repeating the process two or three times, she yelled, “Argh, this is ticking me off!! How can you endure all that?! I wish you’d just let it blast you away once in a while!!”

“What the hell are you angry about?! Besides, if I accepted your request, it’d kill me!!”

She eventually realized how unproductive this was after another ten or twenty tries. Mikoto was fatigued and stopped attacking him with lightning. Kamijou was, for his part, on the verge of collapse; the mall was filled with voices saying, “Hey, should we call Anti-Skills?” and “No, I don’t want to get involved”; and Little Misaka was poking at the pastry birds’ beaks with her index finger.

Suddenly she looked up from the chicks. “By the way, what is the original doing here? asks Misaka, beginning information collection.”

“Huh?!” Mikoto’s shoulders gave a violent jolt. It wasn’t like she and Kamijou were doing anything special, but Mikoto looked away from Little Misaka for some reason. “W-well, we had a little bet for a punishment game during the Daihasei Festival and I won, and as the winner, I’m just dragging this idiot around, that’s all. Er, um, maybe I should have explained the festival first. Basically, it’s like—”

“In other words, the original isn’t able to be honest with herself, says Misaka, beginning information analysis.”

“Pfft?! What information did you get, and how did you analyze it to come to that conclusion?! I—I don’t have any ulterior motives. Be honest with myself? I’m not even sure what you’re talking about! Besides, what would you want me to do if I was honest with myself? To this bonehead?!”

As Mikoto shoved her finger toward Kamijou’s face, Little Misaka didn’t bat an eyelash. “Hmm, Misaka doesn’t understand why you are treating him so brusquely, argues Misaka. Misaka owes her life to this person, so he doesn’t deserve such treatment, says Misaka, unflinchingly seeking correction.”

“Urk…B-but that doesn’t have anything to do with the current situation, does it? What’s wrong with calling this bonehead a bonehead?”

“I see—you continue to be dishonest, says Misaka, reaching a final confirmation.”

Little Misaka gave one close look into Mikoto’s eyes.

“Then Misaka will be honest, says Misaka, choosing to walk a different path from the original.”

As soon as she said that…

…she walked next to Kamijou and promptly hugged his right arm.

Her meager chest pushed against his elbow.

“Dwahhh?!”

Kamijou felt his heart almost explode.

The purehearted boy nearly suffered respiratory distress from the immediate shock, but because of his panic, he couldn’t see Mikoto’s jaw silently moving up and down. Nearby male students spared occasional glances at them, but he was utterly unaware of them, too.

“Wha…wha…whaa…?”

As Mikoto watched in astonishment, Little Misaka, still clinging to Kamijou’s right arm, nestled herself in closer. “Oops, says Misaka, casually moving the accessory he bought for her into the original’s sight.”

“?!”

Criiick came a strange sound from Mikoto’s head.

Little Misaka was about to press her attack…