“Um, so, my name is Index.”

“Did you even taste any of it?”

“I was looking for Touma, but then I got hungry. Actually, I think I decided to look for Touma because I was already hungry.”

Index tossed the fine ice in the juice bottle into her mouth, and her shoulders trembled a little. Either she was too oblivious or too ravenous to notice the sauce stuck to her face near her mouth. Her shortcomings made her seem just like Last Order.

“…Shit.” Accelerator took out a pocket-sized tissue packet and silently threw it at Index’s face. She proceeded to engage in a desperate struggle to get the tissues out of the plastic packaging, and he sighed. What was with her seeming lack of modern knowledge?

She’s looking for someone, too, eh…?

A suspicious person’s face came to mind—one who had been loitering around him, wearing only a blanket, just a little while ago. He flicked on his cell phone, then called up to the screen the facial image data of Last Order (really just her face on a camera shot) and showed it to Index.

“You seen a brat who looks somethin’ like this?”

“Nope.”

Her answer was swift and decisive.

But it didn’t look like she was blowing him off out of lack of interest. She had an odd air of confidence about her.

“I never forget anyone’s face, so I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

“Eh?” Accelerator frowned, but Index didn’t seem to want to explain. Maybe she was fully satisfied from all the hamburgers she ate. With a blissful expression, she slumped down onto the table on her cheek.

“Wow, it was a good thing I ran into you. Really, thank you again. Now I can go look for Touma without worrying about my stomach. Now that I’m full I don’t see much of a reason to look for him, but I came all the way here, so I don’t think I’ll be satisfied until I find him.”

“Okay, I see. Well, I’m not helping you.”

“It’s been a little while since I came here, but I still don’t really understand the city, after all. Even though with my brain I’d never forget how the roads go…Maybe just remembering them isn’t enough. But whatever the case, I got to meet someone from Academy City.”

“Okay, I see. Go ask someone else.”

“…What kind of job do you do? Are you busy?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I’m very busy.”

Accelerator put his weight onto his crutch and stood up from his seat.

Alas, by coincidence, he was searching for somebody, too.

3

“So, you’re like a host computer controlling all the Little Misakas and stuff?” asked Kamijou, eyes wide.

Last Order (another name that sounded fake, he thought, but stayed quiet about it), having finished her brief explanation, waved her small hands in denial. “Maybe more like a console than a host, corrects Misaka corrects Misaka. The Misakas don’t have a centralized body, so there isn’t much point in having one piece of the network be a ‘core,’ says Misaka says Misaka, puffing out her chest and proudly giving a lecture.”

Apparently, they’d created her in case a large number of Sisters went out of control and those on the human side had to stop them. A “last order” to allow those outside the Misaka network to intervene.

For someone who sounded so important from all that (though Kamijou honestly didn’t feel a sense of reality from it), he wondered what she was dawdling around here for again.

“Um, Misaka came here to thank you for saving us during the experiment, presenting a ‘Grateful Crane’–like development.”

“Which is what you’re telling everyone. What are you really here for?”

“You didn’t even believe Misaka for a moment! says Misaka says Misaka, stomping her foot!! Well, Misaka coming to thank you is stretching it since it was a coincidence, says Misaka says Misaka, revealing her true intentions and stuff!”

“Then aren’t I right to be suspicious?”

“Your lack of sensitivity gets on Misaka’s nerves! says Misaka says Misaka, swinging her arms around and trying to pummel you!”

It seemed like he made her mad. He had no choice. He looked around. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll buy you some popcorn from that place over there, so please forgive me!”

“Do you think you can lead a girl’s delicate heart around with mere food?! demands Misaka demands Misaka, getting all shocked and stuff!!”

Wait, huh? It seemed like his method of dealing with Index had sunken quite deeply into his mind. I shouldn’t do that, he reflected honestly. “Sorry. Then we’ll fast.”

“Misaka will eat it! Popcorn would be greatly appreciated!! says Misaka says Misaka, showing off a new technique of getting the popcorn but still staying mad!!”

Come on, which is it? Kamijou was getting tired of this, but when Last Order started pulling on his pants, he knew in the end, things would be settled by his food method after all.

He bought a cylindrical tub of popcorn in a sweet caramel flavor and presented it to her. She hugged it to her small body.

“Wow, I think this is the same size as Misaka’s head, says Misaka says Misaka, admiring the economy-sized container.”

“…Oops. No matter how I look at it, that size is bigger than your stomach.”

Of course, a nun he knew would probably devour an entire killer whale without much difficulty. Maybe it wasn’t enough to make a fuss about.

Two minutes later…

He discovered the young girl, a giant container of popcorn in one hand and the other over her mouth, crouched over and trembling terribly.

“…You know, you don’t have to eat it all.”

“Mi…Misaka isn’t stupid enough to let a gift of food go to waste—blargh.”

Her previous businesslike tone was completely destroyed now. Besides, he did sort of think she made a mistake trying to eat all that sweet popcorn without anything to drink.

Hmm. It would be easy if Misaka cheered up this simply, but…

As he wondered about whether he should have gone after her, Last Order came to him, looking for a drink.

He had no choice. Kamijou went and bought her a small plastic bottle of mineral water. After wetting her throat with it, she finally went back to normal.

She spoke. “Misaka stole these, says Misaka says Misaka, bragging about her spoils of war.”

“And suddenly you’re a bandit? Not bad, Misaka network host…Wait, huh? What are those, goggles? They’re the ones Little Misaka and the rest always wear…”

Last Order was pointing her finger at a pair of tough-looking goggles hanging around her neck. They looked like military electronics, like night vision goggles, and seemed very heavy. Maybe these were what Little Misaka was talking about when she mentioned something being stolen from her.

“They don’t seem to be made for Misaka to use, so Misaka can’t equip them, says Misaka says Misaka, getting a little down in the dumps.”

“What? You just need to adjust how long the band is so the goggles fit, right?”

“?”

“Give them to me for a second.”

Last Order moved in front of him and stood on her tiptoes, jutting out her chin a bit. This was simply to make it easier for him to take the goggles from around her neck. Finding any deeper significance for her action was something he must not do.

He touched the headgear with a finger and realized it was a band made of rubber. It might be easier to understand by envisioning underwater goggles. A metal fitting was attached at the base of the goggles to adjust the length.

“Sorry, just hold still for a moment,” said Kamijou, gripping the goggles themselves. It was easier to pull the band through the fitting this way. He tugged on the thick rubber band and stretched it out.

Then Last Order began to flail. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, says Misaka says Misa—”

“Ah?!” In his surprise, Kamijou let go of the goggles.

The stretched-out rubber band started to go back to its original size…

…and there was a clear smack sound on Last Order’s face.

“…”

He found it somewhat difficult to go up and talk to Last Order as she rolled around on the floor nearby. As he stood in a fluster, unsure of what to do, the young, teary-eyed girl stood on her tiptoes again, as if to emphasize the goggles around her neck again.

Well, this time I really can’t mess it up.

Whenever people think like that, it always happens again.

Smack!! went the noise, which doesn’t warrant another explanation.

This time she kicked him over and stomped on him a bunch of times, but after that, she brightened up and offered her goggles to him again.

How admirable.

Kamijou vowed he would take the utmost caution to repay her spirit, finally succeeded in adjusting the rubber band’s length, and put the goggles around Last Order’s forehead for her. They still looked too big for her, but he managed to get them around her forehead without them sliding.

“Wow!!” cried Misaka, happily putting her hands on the goggles and twirling around.

Come to think of it, Kamijou thought dubiously. Is she hanging around here by herself? She was with Little Misaka before, but now she’s gone. Maybe they got separated.

He found that hard to believe given that they were in an underground mall, but it was already almost six, and the sun was going down soon. He knew it was best to bring such a dangerous child back to her guardian right away, but was her caretaker around here?

Hmm…If they are nearby, how would I look to them? That’s not good. I feel like they’d start yelling stuff like “What are you doing to my kid?”

And then—

At that moment, Kamijou felt eyes on him.

He had a bad feeling about this.

“What’s wrong? asks Misaka asks Misaka plainly.”

Without answering her innocent voice, he turned around.

Slowly. And fearfully.

When he saw who was there, he moaned.

“It can’t be…”

4

“So Touma always, always, always leaves me behind and goes off to who knows where. I think it’s already a kind of wanderlust. He always goes on journeys before I know it.”

“…”

Accelerator, on his modern-design crutch, walked through the underground mall. It was a bit difficult to tell whether it was day or night here. The final train and bus runs were aligned with the last schools to close, so the students walking here and there seemed to have something of an urgency to their steps.

“I wonder what it is. I mean, he doesn’t hate the place he’s in now, and he doesn’t particularly like the places he goes to. Wander, wander, wander, wander, wander—he just wanders off.”

“…”

Though he didn’t know this Touma person, Accelerator gleaned from her words that he was a terribly annoying guy to be around. For some reason, it irritated him every time she said his name.

Index picked up the calico, who had been hanging around nearby, and asked, “By the way, what are you doing here?”

“Lookin’ for someone.”

“The person on the cellulose phone?”

“So what?” replied Accelerator, not caring.

It wasn’t as though he needed to keep it secret. And with this kind of brat, trying to hide it would just make her ask over and over and over again. That would be annoying. He knew someone a little like her, so he was already familiar with that behavior.

Index picked up the cat, tilting her head. “Hey, by the way, I didn’t thank you yet.”

“Shut up and go home, stupid brat. Pretty sure bothering with someone like you’s just gonna make this take way longer than it needs to.”

“I didn’t thank you yet.”

“…”

She pretended he hadn’t said anything.

Accelerator shot her an irked look, but she didn’t care. “That girl from before, right? I can help you look for her until I find Touma if you want,” she said with a smile.

Without knowing anything about the person she was talking to.

“…Bullshit,” he muttered unintentionally in reply to her perfectly innocent words.

Today was when he learned how tiring it could be to go along with other people’s kindness.

5

There he found Blue Hair and Motoharu Tsuchimikado.

Both looked once at Kamijou’s face, then at Last Order’s, then back up at Kamijou’s.

Then they both spoke at the same time.

““You little bugger!!””

“I don’t even understand what that reaction means!!” Kamijou shouted. Right next to him, Last Order had already grown cautious as she edged behind him.

Tsuchimikado and Blue Hair didn’t care.

“Nyaa! Well, I mean with Ms. Komoe there’s at least her real age and other stuff involved, but what is this, nyaa? How are you going to explain yourself, nyaa?!”

“Y-you bastard!! I know you have no principles, but there’s a limit, dumbass!! How far will you go to set yourself up with no blind spots?! I bet you’ll start chattin’ up a cute old lady on a balcony hunched over a cat on her lap!”

““However!”” said Blue Hair and Tsuchimikado at the same time, glaring at Kamijou.

Then they smiled as wide as they could.

““As your friends! We’ll pray for your success!!””

Deciding the clearly slanderous duo needed to be removed, Kamijou clenched his fist. “You…”

Imagine Breaker. A good name. I’ll teach you—this is exactly the time I should be using it.

Bam bam bam bam bam!! As a brawl erupted among the three, Last Order timidly spoke up.

“U-um, are those your friends? asks Misaka asks Misaka, trying to understand the situation.”

“Children mustn’t watch this! Their lifestyles and idiotic conversations are still too stimulating for little kids!!”

Kamijou swung his fist, meaning to stamp a big R rating on the idiots’ foreheads. Peaceful days seemed distant as of yet.

6

Mikoto folded her arms, offended, as she hurried through the mall.

Even now, the Tokiwadai Middle School uniform seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. Students walking by would glance over at her. She never minded it at all, but today, her patience was running strangely thin.

You’re the one who promised you’d do this punishment game, you idiot…, she muttered internally.

Just the fact that she was angry about something like this made her even less happy. However she felt about it, she couldn’t accept how it weighed so heavily in her thoughts.

Even after leaving the place (or rather, the boy), Mikoto had been throwing brief glances over her shoulder. As she did, there was one thing above all others that made her unable to deal with the situation calmly.

…He had the gall to be relieved.

Slam. She’d softly stomped on the mall floor before realizing it.

A sigh came out.

Well, he would. It was just a regular punishment game. He’s the one who suggested it in the first place. How could he forget? Still, I was dragging him all over against his will. I guess it’s only natural he’d want to end it as soon as he could. But…

If this was how it was going to be, she was a complete fool for having a good time by herself.

Her eyes fell to the small paper bag from the cell phone company, peering into it at the visible tiny frog mascot, thinking, It’s only natural, but…

For some reason, she really felt like she’d been left behind.

She saw her face reflected in a sparkly clean support beam, her mouth twisted into a pouty look. Seeing that made her want to slap herself across the face.

It isn’t like what that idiot did goes against the rules of the punishment game or anything. And that girl being with him isn’t a problem, either. So what the heck am I doing?

Now that she thought about it calmly, maybe she was acting pretty immature.

Who cared about some shitty punishment game?

If it was going to make her feel like this anyway, she shouldn’t have made the bet during the Daihasei Festival at all. For one reason or another, it felt like things had been lost because of that game. For Mikoto herself and for the people nearby.

She kind of wanted to curl up in the corner of her room and hide.

She sort of felt like doing something about this stress that had nowhere to go right now.

Wasn’t there anything she could do?

“…”

Looking around, she only saw an arcade in terms of places for entertainment. There was a game called Skill Attack sitting in front, infamous for having an extremely high difficulty level. Basically, it was a repurposed ability measurement device. One would blast their ability into the baseball mitt–shaped shock-resistant “target,” and it would give them a number representing the strength of the attack. It was just a stress-relieving machine.

Mikoto wandered over that way. The moment the pastry shop next to the arcade went out of view, anyone could tell just how frayed her nerves were.

There was nothing “proper young lady–like” about her right now.

She put several hundred-yen coins into the machine.

The “target” in question was designed like a signboard. It was a square baseball mitt that looked like it was made of urethane, attached to a supporting metal pipe. Compared to the actual machine, the target was oddly shiny, so it was probably disposable. Maybe they changed it every other day.

It’s probably not set up to handle Level Fives anyway.

She sighed.

Most machines like this could only handle up to Level Four espers, and even if its slogan mentioned the level, it was generally good manners to stop it at Level Three.

Jeez. I even have to take it easy when venting stress…, she complained to herself.

Then a small warning label caught her eye.

This is what it said:

“The latest version assumes ability usage. We are collecting data now in order to allow Level Five users. Your cooperation is appreciated!”

Mikoto froze.

Then the stress within her began to bubble out as a smirk formed on her face.

Eerie crackling noises came from her rustling bangs.

Silently, she took a deep, deep brecath.

And she decided to cooperate.

With everything.

“That freaking idiot!! How dare you! Break a promise! You made!! And here I was…putting in so much effort to check all the score listings during the festival!!”

Crackle, bang, snap, bang, crack!! came the thunderous sounds as the ability-measurement-device game machine rattled around in every direction. It probably had some shock-resistant features, but it bowed before force enough to tear the machine from the earthquake-resistant supports connecting it to the floor. Low, dull buzzing noises started going off nearby. The relaxed mall atmosphere made a one-eighty as the students nearby panicked and tried to flee, saying things like “Ugyah!” and “Wh-what’s that?!” and “Wait, wait a second!!”

Having beaten the hell out of the machine, Mikoto was breathing loudly, her shoulders bobbing up and down.

Ding-ding! came a soft electronic tone.

She looked. Apparently, she’d set a new high score.

“…I feel empty,” she said suddenly. “…”

In the end, she decided to leave the big machine and go back the way she came.

There was no point getting riled up by herself. She decided to admit she was being immature and apologize. It wasn’t like one of the Sisters getting a present was some kind of mistake. She was incredibly uncertain the idiot would simply let her say sorry, but she wanted to try doing the adult thing this time. She took a deep breath.

But there was still the punishment game.

It was vexing that he thought she’d let the war spoils from the Daihasei Festival she put so much effort into wresting away just end like that.

Whatever the case, she had to find him again and talk to him. She sped up her pace.

7

After finally managing to coerce Blue Hair and Motoharu Tsuchimikado to reflect on their actions, Kamijou checked the digital clock on his cell phone. It was already past six. Outside, on the surface, the sun had probably set and let the night in.

“Hmm. Your acquaintances are very unique, says Misaka says Misaka, folding her arms and tilting her head. And I wonder why I still feel somewhat sick to my stomach, says Misaka says Misaka, rechecking each of the terms she heard.”

That’s what Last Order said, but Kamijou estimated it wouldn’t be too much of a problem. If she didn’t understand, then great.

“Ack, it’s already this late? says Misaka says Misaka, panicking a little bit,” she said all of a sudden.

As far as he could see, no clocks were hanging on the walls, and one couldn’t see the sky from the underground mall. Maybe she got some kind of information over the rumored Misaka network.

She twirled back around to face him. “Um, Misaka has to go home soon, says Misaka says Misaka, hating to be the bearer of bad news.”

“Well, it is getting late.” Kamijou was just thinking it was time for little kids to get home anyway, so he felt reassured.

“Yep,” she said with a little nod. “I wanted to stay with you longer, though, says Misaka says Misaka, getting all down in the dumps and stuff. We met here by coincidence, but Misaka meant it when she said she wanted to thank you, says Misaka says Misaka, speaking her mind.”

Last Order put her hands on the goggles on her forehead.

“And I got these, too,” she said. “But I think he’ll be worried, says Misaka says Misaka, remembering and continuing. If it gets too late, he might go out to look for Misaka this time, and Misaka doesn’t want to cause him trouble, says Misaka says Misaka with a smile.”

“I see,” said Kamijou offhandedly. He didn’t know who she meant, but he got the vague impression he was a sort of good guy.

“He’s weak,” continued Last Order. “He got hurt a lot and could never protect what he had, and the hands he used to save them are all messed up now, says Misaka says Misaka, trying to convey fragments of information. Misaka doesn’t want to put any more of a burden on him, so this time it’s Misaka’s turn to protect him, reveals Misaka reveals Misaka.”

“Oh.” He only understood maybe half of what she was saying, but he nodded anyway. Her words were free of any lies. He wasn’t a sort of good guy—he was definitely a good guy.

“He’s cool sometimes, too, adds Misaka adds Misaka. Even if he gets all bloody and messed up, he still fights for Misaka, boasts Misaka boasts Misaka.”

Huh. I get this really strong sense of familiarity about that guy’s behavior. He didn’t have any grounds for saying that, so he kept his mouth shut.

Kamijou watched for a few moments as Last Order ran away, waving and saying “bye-bye” to him. He guessed it was getting close to the time schools would normally close—in other words, the last trains and buses—because suddenly the crowds in the underground mall were moving urgently. Her small body slipped through them and was out of sight before he knew it.

Welp, time to go, he thought, turning on his heel, suddenly catching sight of someone he knew.

“Hmm?”

She started coming toward him.

8

“Oh, it’s Touma…”

Next to him, Index stopped dead in her tracks. She was looking down the passageway.

“The guy you were lookin’ for?”

“Yep.”

Accelerator randomly looked over in that direction, but in the crowd, he couldn’t discern who she was looking at. Besides, in this situation, he wouldn’t even know who she was referring to anyway.

Index stared at Accelerator.

He said, “Go.”

“But what about your acquaintance?”

“Don’t worry,” he spat. “Just found her.”

The direction he indicated was the same way Index had looked—directly in front of them. He saw a small girl making her way through the mainly middle school student crowd and running toward him.

Accelerator knew her name.

He didn’t know if it was her real name or how much value was contained within a name created by scientists as a convenience for paperwork. But that was true for Accelerator, too. There was probably nobody who knew his real name.

Whatever it was, if she only had one name to go by, then it was the one that referred to her.

So Accelerator spoke.

“Last Order!”

Hearing her name, the small girl put even more energy into her steps. An idiotic expression of happiness was plastered to her face.

Next to Accelerator, as he watched, he heard small pattering footsteps.

All Index said was, “Okay, then bye. Thanks!” Then, “Touma!!”

There was a pep in her light steps. The girl who had only been with him for a few minutes left his side and ran beyond the crowds of people.

She didn’t turn back.

Neither did Last Order.

The two girls met at one point in the underground mall, passed by each other, and left, neither noticing.

Each running toward the place she needed to be.

It didn’t even take ten seconds for Last Order to fly up to Accelerator.

“I’m back, says Misaka says Misaka, giving the proper greeting…Ow! Why do you keep karate chopping me like that?! cries Misaka cries Misaka in a fake way, holding her head.”

He hit the girl’s head relentlessly, taking out his discontentedness on her. “What the hell have you been doing this whole time?”

“Getting people to play with Misaka, says Misaka says Misaka, answering honestly.”

“Hmph,” snorted Accelerator.

He glanced back again, wondering what became of the terribly annoying sister.

But from here, he couldn’t discern anything.

All he saw was an indistinct crowd of people.

Just like always.