INTERLUDE THREE

Hyouka Kazakiri was walking through Academy City.

She was a plain girl. Her waist-length hair color was natural…which sounded nice, but it was simply because she hadn’t done anything to it. The only thing, perhaps, was her decision to section off a tuft of hair on the side with an elastic band. Her regular facial features were hidden behind large, unfashionable glasses, and she hadn’t a single puff of makeup on. Her school uniform skirt even went down to her knees. It clearly wasn’t walking attire for the busy streets.

But her figure drew eyes.

Not for her excellent, pretty looks—the attention was on something more unnatural.

Noise.

The girl, who gave the impression of a small, quietly blooming flower, sometimes became distorted. Like mist blown by wind or a television signal with bad reception, there would be a rasping static as her silhouette grew uncertain before returning to normal. And just when someone saw her summer button-down waver, she was then wearing a blue-colored blazer.

And still, she walked the streets.

The sight would normally cause a big stir, but she received no negative attention in reaction.

Because this was a city of supernatural abilities and scientific technology.

They would accept most unnatural occurrences, not reject them.

However…

“Heeey, who are you?”

An Anti-Skill man came running up to Kazakiri. He was an expert, someone who would even use a firearm if a crime happened and take the initiative to quell it. But his main occupation was that of a teacher. He didn’t have the sharpness a real agent would have.

He, too, accepted Kazakiri’s presence as part of the city’s normal scenery.

His goal wasn’t to get rid of her.

But…

“I swear, making a 3-D image like this…Where’s the esper? This is a pretty elaborate prank.”

His eyes weren’t looking at Kazakiri.

He had accepted her as part of the cityscape but only as a simple phenomenon.

Supernatural abilities and scientific technology.

Most strange things in this city could be resolved with those words. Academy City—where you could convince yourself of anything if you decided it was created by technology you didn’t know about or an experiment.

That was why Hyouka Kazakiri could walk the streets like this.

She could be accepted, not excluded, even though she thought herself a monster, clearly not human in anyone’s eyes.

Was that fortunate?

Or was it misfortunate?

Hyouka Kazakiri was a 3-D noise image shaped by the hands of espers. She wouldn’t say she was a human with a heart.

She smiled a little.

A slightly bitter, lonely smile.

An all-too-transient expression, which could only be described as human.

“…This is a pretty detailed illusion. Did they think their teacher would start blushing?”

This, too, was accepted.

Save for the most important part.