CHAPTER 1

Course from Peace to Ruination
Battle_of_Collapse.

1

Certain circumstances dictated that fourth period dragged on for an abnormally long time today.

By the time everyone in class, including perfectly ordinary high school student Touma Kamijou, ran to the school store and cafeteria, their window of opportunity was perfectly shut. They were late for everything: The bread at the store was wiped out, and the cafeteria seats were all taken, the latter with no signs of improving before lunch break was over. To put the nail in the coffin, the food-ticket vending machine was blinking all its lined-up lights on and off, emptier than a cigarette machine at midnight.

It was rotten luck, and it was all because of a tangent during class, wherein Touma Kamijou had asked his history teacher this question: “Huh. Then what would Japan be like now, if Nobunaga Oda had made a Nobunaga Shogunate, instead of Tokugawa?”

Kamijou, feeling responsible, went to the faculty room to make a direct appeal. As Miss Komoe munched on her 580-yen healthy soba set meal served on a bamboo basket dish, he requested, “If you can, please open the Home Ec room! I’ll open up a new place—Restaurant Kamijou!! Featuring spectacular creations using leftover cold rice, grated cheese, and ketchup!”

However, his teacher didn’t respond to his desperate plea with anything more than a pained smile. Plus, thanks to his math teacher Suama Oyafune digging ravenously into her gorgeous sea urchin- and salmon-topped rice bowl, as well as his gym teacher Aiho Yomikawa having already put away several steamed meat buns that didn’t look very much like a lunch, the faculty room was filled with nothing but annoyingly delicious scents. The atmosphere in the room had forced Kamijou to flee before he lost control.

“Th-the only road left is the drink machine…but will it last us all through afternoon classes?”

Motoharu Tsuchimikado and Blue Hair joined Kamijou to lament the food crisis, followed by Aisa Himegami (who had forgotten to make her own lunch for once), Seiri Fukiyose (who was fresh out of mail-order health foods), the rest of the cafeteria group, and the school store group. Their coed hoard numbered twenty-one in all.

And as the Packed Lunch Alliance enjoyed a veritable feast with their incredibly tasty-looking hamburgers and pork dumplings, the members of the Starving Federation finally made their decision.

“We have to bust out and go to the convenience store!!”

Who could have shouted that?

The next thing they knew, the boys and girls of the cafeteria and school store groups, the Starving Federation, had formed a circle and begun a war council.

Seiri Fukiyose had to be the one to show her strength at a time like this. “If all of us leave school at once, the teachers will find out. We should narrow our team down to three or four people, have everyone give them their money, and have them buy us food. It would be more efficient!!”

“What should the rest of us do?” asked Himegami, tilting her head.

Kamijou raised his hand. “Gather information, create diversions, and stick to other backup stuff, right? We have to make sure the teachers don’t find out about this. I need everyone’s help. Keep your cell phones on. We need the latest intel—or else this will result in failure.”

“Great. Now we need to figure out where to escape from, nya!” Tsuchimikado flipped over a piece of paper he didn’t need anymore and sketched a detailed map of the school on it. “Here are all the alarms that detect suspicious people,” he said. “The infrared sensors are active only at night, so we don’t need to worry about them…Considering where the faculty room is, they’ll spot us right away if we leave from the main entrance, since they can see the whole schoolyard from their window, nya. We’ll have to use the back door. But that’s where the man from the school store goes in and out. If we run into him, we’ll have a really rough time, nya.”

“I see…,” said Fukiyose. “We’ll have to time our exit carefully, then. All right, I’ll give everyone their roles now!!”

At her instructions, the twenty-one rebels split into several groups. She, Kamijou, Tsuchimikado, and Blue Hair would be the four in the team actually making the escape. Apparently, she had an opinion of them as highly alert based on the shenanigans they always encountered.

“But Kamijou’s got rotten luck. Should we really let him get our lunch?”

“We’ll be fine. He has a very important role—the decoy.”

Kamijou raised his fist to quiet the classmates whispering about him.

Still in the huddle, everyone took out their cell phones, set them on transceiver mode so they could connect to multiple lines at once, and then made sure their digital clocks were precise down to the second.

“Time to go. Mission—start!!”

Clap-clap! Fukiyose put her hands together, and then the cafeteria and school store group split off like scattering spiders.

Kamijou, Blue Hair, Tsuchimikado, and Fukiyose, while in a hurry, purposely walked through the hall slowly enough to look like they were in no rush. That way, nobody would stop them for running in the halls.

“This mission will be a race against time,” said Fukiyose, trading smiles with several teachers along the way as they speed walked. “Convenience stores make the most profits during lunchtime. Even if we manage to get outside, this will all be for nothing if the lunches are gone from the shelves!!”

They didn’t go to the shoe cupboards. If anyone spotted them changing out of their slippers and loafers, they’d know they were trying to leave. And if their shoes were absent and they weren’t in the schoolyard…that would be relatively fatal.

Instead, they had a separate group grab their gym shoes. After trading their slippers for those, they went to the “path to the outside” connecting the school building to the gymnasium, put on their gym shoes, then broke out. They ran behind the school building before anyone could nab them.

The metal fence was in sight. Nobody was around. The possible complication—the man from the school store—was nowhere to be seen.

“Great! Let’s keep going right out of here!!”

Kamijou enthusiastically tried to climb over the fence.

That was when it happened.

Beep! Beep! The shrill sound of claxons.

He turned around and saw the gorilla-like Mr. Saigo there, apparently returning from a family restaurant where he’d eaten lunch.

Their educational guidance counselor was riding in a family-use four-door car, but they’d discriminated against gorillas when they made it, because it looked as cramped as a public phone booth for him.

“No!!” cried Fukiyose. “We should have considered the possibility that a teacher could be using the back entrance to get to their car!!”

She regretted her oversight, but Kamijou felt differently.

He simply shouted what was on his mind.

“What a coward!! Eating out now of all times?! That muscle-monster counselor was on his own enjoying a relaxed atmosphere in a restaurant while we were fighting tooth and nail in a cafeteria that isn’t big enough?!”

“K-Kammy, idiot, don’t yell at him! If we get caught here, what will become of everyone’s lunch?!”

Blue Hair’s voice snapped Kamijou out of his indignance.

The gorilla-like teacher, Mr. Saigo, got out of the car and started stampeding straight for them. To get away, Kamijou went over the metal fence and fled. Fukiyose, sensing that sticking together was disadvantageous, immediately started down a different escape route. Just as Tsuchimikado was about to be caught, he kicked Blue Hair off the fence, then set off a flare used for evading missiles.

Kamijou and Tsuchimikado wouldn’t let his noble sacrifice be in vain, so they ran full speed down the road outside school.

As Tsuchimikado darted away, he looked over his shoulder—and had a fright.

“That damn gorilla!” he shouted. “He’s tied Blue Hair down, and now he’s coming after us!!”

“Seriously?! Tsuchimikado, let’s split up for now! We can’t afford to get wiped out here!!”

They nodded to each other, then went their separate ways at an intersection to maximize their chances of survival.

2

Itsuwa, a girl belonging to the Amakusa-Style Crossist Church, was near Kamijou’s high school.

She was wearing a pink tank top over a fluffy, sheeplike sweater, and below those, dark pants…but the pants had spiraling pieces cut out of them, with a clear vinyl material holding it all together so it wouldn’t flip upward—a brand-new Academy City design made to show a bold amount of leg. This was a rare city, 80 percent of its citizens being students, and in cities, even this one, she chose her clothes very carefully, in order to blend in with people. For a business neighborhood, she’d wear a suit, and for a shopping mall, a miniskirt. This went for both Itsuwa and the rest of Amakusa.

She had a reason for being in Academy City.

Two days prior, the leaders of the English Puritan Church and Academy City each received a copy of the same letter. The sender was a member of God’s Right Seat, a top-secret Roman Orthodox group, named Acqua of the Back. It contained the following: I go now to obliterate Touma Kamijou. If you wish to stop me, do so with all your might—a letter of challenge.

It could have been a fake, of course. However, the letter sent to the English Church had a certain item attached to it, unlike the one sent to Academy City, that supplied trustworthiness.

The remains of Terra of the Left.

In addition to being gently wrapped in the finest-quality velvet, they were packed in a box of faintly scented paulownia wood. It was decorated extravagantly, almost like a jewel box. Was it a show of scorn toward his enemies or a display of respect?

Because she’d directly fought with Terra, Itsuwa had been called to St. George’s Cathedral to verify the remains…and that was where the confusion had started.

There were two reasons. The first was that Terra should have been incinerated in Avignon by an Academy City weapon—but the remains clearly showed his body severed at the waist.

The second was that if Terra had withstood the Academy City weapon—and Acqua of the Back had executed him so easily—what did that say about his strength?

A single blow. That was all they could say, looking at the wound.

Having battled Terra of the Left personally, Itsuwa knew how strong he was. He had put her and the others through terrible suffering. He’d even broken through the front of a large military unit deployed by Academy City. And then, his entire body was ripped apart—a gruesome end if there ever was one.

There was another question.

God’s Right Seat hadn’t been using roundabout tactics before now. Why had they sent an old-fashioned letter of challenge? Why had Acqua personally killed Terra of the Left and used him as a foundation for his challenge?

Acqua of the Back’s extremely straightforward approach put the Church and Academy City off in several ways. They knew it was probably a trap, but they couldn’t discern the true intentions behind it. Still, he’d said he was coming after Touma Kamijou, so he must have decided defeating him here was the best option. That, in turn, led to the English Church dispatching the Amakusa-Style Crossist Church here.

Normally, any group actions by sorcerers were forbidden in Academy City. The act was seen as divisive between the magic side and the science side.

But this time, due to an exception, they’d broken the agreement. Itsuwa didn’t know the details, but the English Church’s archbishop had most likely had a word with Academy City leaders. Amakusa was a small, independent group under the English Church’s umbrella; maybe they’d decided it was the right time to cut off the lizard’s tail, as it were, now that things were getting bad. Or they could have also decided on people who were familiar with the lay of the land, as Amakusa had originally been active in Japan. Whatever the case, Itsuwa, who was not supposed to be here, was currently in Academy City.

Part of the reason was that the world had begun forming sides: Academy City and the English Puritan Church on one side and the Roman Orthodox and Russian Catholic Churches on the other. A larger reason was that Acqua of the Back was a potent bomb. They wouldn’t be able to defeat him without breaking the rules.

On the other hand, the bigger threat wasn’t the global chaos this science-sorcery divide would cause. It was Acqua of the Back’s lone attack run, and both the city and the English Church had accepted that. They knew how strong the man was, and they treated him with appropriate importance.

“…”

That was why they’d decided to have Itsuwa take part in the conflict as Kamijou’s bodyguard.

At the same time, though she was smart and sensible and knew she had to contact him as soon as possible, she wasn’t about to rush into his school during classes. Right now, her plan was to wait in a spot easily visible from his classroom, and then once school let out for the day, she’d get this show on the road.

…I have to do my best, she thought, making a small fist, secretly enthusiastic.

During the Document C incident, her lack of skill had prevented her from protecting Kamijou to the end. This time, she would approach this like a professional sorcerer, not letting anyone lay a finger on the civilian.

She reaffirmed her grip on the bag over her shoulder and felt the weight of the disassembled Friulian spear inside it. They’re talking about how he’s already taken down two of God’s Right Seat—Vento of the Front and Terra of the Left. But there must be something I can do. That’s why I have to do my best.

Just then, a familiar person shot past Itsuwa.

It was the boy himself—Touma Kamijou.

“Huh?”

Why? wondered Itsuwa, checking the time. School definitely hadn’t let out yet. Plus, the look on his face as he ran down the street was odd. It was almost like somebody was chasing him.

Maybe something had happened. A hint of tension flared through her eyes.

Then she saw some kind of big, gorilla-looking man dash past her in pursuit.

He had the face of one of those blocky-looking bad guys who appeared a lot in individualistic western video games.

There was no way that gorilla was a regular person. Even Touma Kamijou, a hardened war veteran, had a face full of terror. She could see the words written on his face: He’ll rip me apart!

Eventually, she made her decision. According to the report from September 30, Acqua of the Back was male.

He didn’t waste any time getting here!! she thought, swiftly assembling her spear and charging off toward the game-like villain.

3

Mr. Saigo, the educational guidance instructor, ended up going home early due to health issues.

“…Blah.”

After school, Kamijou, who had managed to complete the grand lunchtime mission, heaved a sigh as he changed his indoor slippers for his outdoor basketball shoes before leaving the school gate. Itsuwa was standing around, her face still pale.

For some reason, Itsuwa (complete with her lance) had shown up out of the blue during the lunch break and, with the look of a monster, had delivered a fierce tackle to his educational guidance instructor.

It seemed she had jumped the gun: “That…wasn’t Acqua of the Back? What? A schoolteacher?!” she’d said in a fluster. “H-he has a face like that and he’s a teacher?!”

It looked like she really needed to talk about why she was here, but in order to smooth things over with the gorilla teacher, whose eyes were spinning, she had picked the man up and moved him swiftly to a hospital.

Which brought things to now.

“Could…Could I be any more useless…?”

When she came back from the hospital, her face had been dark and depressed.

For Kamijou, it would have all been over if the gorilla had caught him. Kamijou knew he would have slammed him to the asphalt with an ultra-powerful ancient martial art throw, then comboed that into sweaty groundwork techniques. In terms of her usefulness, he would have said 100 percent yes, she’d been very useful. But it didn’t seem like that was the reason she was so blue.

As for hurting a regular person…Well, that gorilla is legendary for stopping a chunk of bedrock in a “watch for falling rocks” zone with his bare hands. I’m really, really not sure whether to call him a regular person.

Whatever the case, Kamijou decided to ask Itsuwa, a resident of the magic side, why she was in Academy City, home base of the science side.

With much trepidation, she replied, “Do you remember the name Acqua of the Back?”

Kamijou’s brows knitted in suspicion. “One of God’s Right Seat, right? I met him on September thirtieth.”

Yes—after he’d defeated Vento of the Front in Academy City, Acqua of the Back had stepped in to intervene. He was both a member of God’s Right Seat and someone with the qualities of a saint. Kamijou couldn’t fathom his actual battle strength, but he at least knew he was way above all the enemies he’d fought until now.

Not particularly heading anywhere, they ended up walking toward the shopping district. Kamijou asked, “Anyway, why do you ask about Acqua? He’s not starting shady business in some city in another country, is he?”

“N-no, it’s not that…” Itsuwa was having a lot of trouble getting the words out. She went over it in her mind a few times, then finally said, “We think Acqua of the Back is after you.”

“What?”

“Well, both the English Puritan Church and Academy City got a threatening letter from Acqua of the Back. He said he would ob—attack you in a few days, and to get ready.” She cut herself off midword, worried, like a parent trying to explain something to their child while softening some of the more upsetting parts.

Kamijou was dubious. He was an average high school student. He didn’t quite grasp the severity of God’s Right Seat and Acqua of the Back being after his life.

“God’s Right Seat, huh…?” He thought for a moment. “From what Vento of the Front said, they were forcing the pope to make documents just so they could come and kill me, or attack Academy City, or whatever. It seems like a stupidly high cost just to get one high school kid. I wonder why they’re doing it again.”

“Huh?! No, no, no, no!! It’s because you’ve been helping so many people, and stopping the Roman Orthodox Church’s shadow groups’ schemes, and doing all sorts of other things, and I guess what I’m trying to say is that whether or not you’re in high school doesn’t have anything to do with it…”

He didn’t really know why Itsuwa was getting so flustered and crying out. He decided to chalk it up to Amakusa’s favoritism of him. It tickled Kamijou to be flattered like that, but he was genuinely nothing more than a simple high schooler. Even if they praised him, nothing would come of it.

“Anyway, we had ‘the Front’ and ‘the Left’ before, so…it’s Acqua ‘of the Back’ this time, huh?”

“The British Library is investigating him right now, but they haven’t gotten anything relevant nor anything on the other God’s Right Seat members.”

“Well, they are secret members of a covert organization after all.”

“We can’t find any details about his power as a member of God’s Right Seat, but he seems to have the powers of a saint, too. We might have asked the Priestess to help, but…”

The “Priestess” was Kaori Kanzaki. She was another of the less than twenty saints in the world. Her feats included once fighting against an actual angel and surviving.

Her assistance would be reassuring, but for various reasons, there was a valley between her and Amakusa. On top of that, based on what people like Stiyl had told him, the immense power saints had didn’t necessarily let them move around at will.

“…But that isn’t to say we don’t have a plan,” said Itsuwa, meaning to wipe away the young man’s unease. “God’s Right Seat is extremely strong on the magic side, and there’s honestly no guarantee we could hope to stand up to them even in an advantageous battle. But Vento of the Front, Terra of the Left…We successfully drove them both off, and why is that?”

“Hmm.”

“I haven’t done a detailed analysis, so I can’t say this is confirmed information, but there is one thing linking them: They faced large-scale interference from the science side. The powered suits and supersonic bombers forced Terra of the Left to change his plans, and as for Vento of the Front…um…Something about people seeing an angel?”

She might be on to something. The thing that shook God’s Right Seat, one of the strongest groups on the magic side, was always an irregular counterattack from the science side. That meant maybe the key to victory was not to fight them on a stage they had perfect supremacy on but to drag them to the disadvantageous science side and make them fight there.

“That would mean,” he said, “there’s something really important about them fighting in Academy City, since it’s full of science.”

“I…I don’t think that’s the only thing, but…”

“?”

Kamijou tilted his head in confusion as Itsuwa stammered, but she waved her hands to pass it off. “A-anyway! If Acqua attacks, I’ll be sure to protect you!” she announced enthusiastically. “We’re under orders from the English Church to guard you both openly and from the shadows, so please don’t worry!!”

There was one small thing he couldn’t let slide. He figured he might have misheard her, so he asked again, just to be sure. “And why are you here, Itsuwa?”

“I’m here to guard you, of course,” she said, clenching a small fist in excitement.

Kamijou blinked. He decided to ask again. “And why are you here, Itsuwa?”

“I told you, I’m here to guard you. Which means I’ll be staying with you.”

4

From behind cover, Saiji Tatemiya, vicar pope of the Amakusa-Style Crossist Church, lowered his binoculars.

They were right next to a small movie theater. Nearby was a narrow byway with a lottery vendor set up at its entrance that blocked the view. It was a queer place, the sort that was near large numbers of people but hard to see.

He narrowed his eyes with a sour expression, binoculars in one hand. Quietly, he said, “What a bore.”

The large man next to him, Ushibuka, who was pretending to read a magazine, nodded. “Come on, Itsuwa…,” he murmured. “She’s acting like this is just business. Not going in for the attack at all.”

“You’ve got that right. We finally gave her the chance to engage Touma Kamijou at point-blank range, and not only is she refusing to appeal herself to him—she doesn’t even know her own weapons.”

“What do you mean by weapons?” asked a short boy named Kouyagi as he munched on some popcorn.

Tatemiya fished around in the bag on the ground next to him. Then he brought out a flip-board—the kind quiz show contestants wrote answers on—and began squeaking and scribbling on it with a black marker.

He’d written down the right answer and theatrically whipped it around to show them. Then, bam!! His eyes popped open. “That’s right—the ‘Itsuwa secretly has giant tits’ theory!!” he declared.

They all scampered up to him in a rush—not only Ushibuka and Kouyagi but the whole male crowd, including Isahaya, an older man, and Nomozaki, who was already married.

“D-do you have any proof for that theory, Vicar Pope?!”

“These better not be random predictions! Save them for the horse races, asshole!!”

The men began breathing raggedly. Tatemiya put his black marker to the flip-board again. “According to the results of the investigation from the Itsuwa Massage Stratagem that I executed earlier,” he said, “her shoulder stiffness index is forty. But considering her physical strength and the amount of exercise she gets, even factoring in the total weight of her clothing, equipment, and possessions, her stiffness index should only be thirty-seven at most. It’s odd!”

“You mean…” The group gulped.

Tatemiya nodded gravely, drew upon the deepest reserves of his strength, and declared in a loud voice, “Yes. This index differential of three proves my theory that Itsuwa secretly has huge tits!!”

Bum-bum!! With the stunning truth appended to the flip-board now in front of them, Ushibuka and Kouyagi fell to their knees. Isahaya, their elder, made an arm pump as if joyful at the growth of a grandchild. Meanwhile, Nomozaki, perhaps preferring them on the smaller side, drooped his shoulders in frustration.

Off to the side, Tsushima, a woman with fluffy golden locks standing a short distance away, sighed at the stupidity. “Quit the horseplay and focus on keeping track of the one we’re guarding.”

Tatemiya and the other men, their fun spoiled, gave Tsushima’s body, tall yet light on cleavage, a thorough look from head to toe.

“Tsushima’s an ambiguous one,” said Kouyagi. “I don’t think there’s much demand for girls like her.”

“What?!”

“Indeed,” agreed Isahaya. “You’d think she’d at least have the good grace to be tall and big-breasted, or short with smaller ones. It’s like the character designer didn’t know what to do with her. What are we supposed to do?”

As Tsushima’s mouth hung open in silence, Tatemiya pulled out another flip-board and wrote on it with his marker. “Tsk, tsk,” he said. “The lot of you wouldn’t understand this—my ‘Tsushima has curvaceous legs’ theory!!”

Before he could go any further explaining his strange ideas, Tsushima kicked him in the crotch to shut him up. The other men, not seeming very interested in her, left her alone and went back to Itsuwa.

“You think this is all right? It looks like Itsuwa’s trying to continue her hand towel tactics.”

“No, Itsuwa’s too slow to mature,” muttered Isahaya, clenching his teeth in frustration. “Nothing will happen like this…”

Tatemiya, oddly teary-eyed, wrested back control of the conversation. “You’re right. If Itsuwa wants to use my ‘extra-large oranges’ theory to its fullest, she’ll need to do more.”

“E-extra-large oranges?!” cried Ushibuka in a fluster. “I thought they were apples at best!!”

Kouyagi looked dubious. “Vicar Pope, we’re in the outfield. I don’t think crying about it will solve the problem. Itsuwa’s lack of maturity is tried and true at this point.”

“Heh. That’s why I brought a secret plan along.” Tatemiya smirked and took something out of his bag of wonders.

“A soccer ball?”

“I propose what I’m calling the Grand Free Kick Strategy, carried out by yours truly—the sniper on the field, Saiji Tatemiya.”

5

Mikoto Misaka’s mind was hazy and murky.

It had been this way ever since she’d learned a certain thing about Touma Kamijou.

Thinking about it didn’t solve it. Time passing didn’t solve it. Her thoughts were going over it again and again, fruitlessly, like someone was making her solve a question that had no answer.

It couldn’t possibly have been a lie.

The thing—it was his amnesia. That one word had shaken her heart.

But how long ago was it…?

When they’d signed up for the paired cell phone contract on November 30, he hadn’t seemed strange. She couldn’t see any changes in him during the Daihasei Festival, either. What about August 31? And back when he was involved with the Sisters and Accelerator?

“…” She couldn’t get a grip on the problem. Now that she was thinking about it, he’d always seemed close to her. But there was a lot about him she couldn’t actually figure out.

I know worrying about this isn’t going to help…

How long had he been like this? How much of his memory had he lost? Did it affect his life? Did he ever see a doctor like he should have? Was there really no hope of curing him?

And—what parts of his memories had disappeared?

I guess I could talk about this with a mental-type esper I know, but…

There was one other Level Five at Tokiwadai Middle School besides Mikoto. She was number five and had the strongest mental-type ability in Academy City’s history—Mental Out, as it was called. Reading memories, brainwashing personalities, telepathically talking to distant people, erasing feelings, amplifying willpower, reproducing thoughts, transplanting emotions…She had single-handedly mastered every mind-related phenomenon out there; she was a veritable Swiss Army knife of a Level Five.

“But I just don’t like her…,” Mikoto went on, speaking her thoughts aloud accidentally. It went to show how uncomfortable she made her.

After all, unlike Mikoto, who didn’t belong to any specific groups, organizations, or factions, this girl had ascended to queenhood of the largest faction in the school. That in itself meant they wouldn’t get along. If Mikoto asked her about this, it would undoubtedly place her in the girl’s debt…and, at worst, she could always play a trick on that idiot’s mind and lie that she cured it. The blunt fact was that she didn’t trust her enough with his body.

Mikoto knew she shouldn’t pursue that plan, so she drove the Level Five from her mind for the moment. And I know this is that idiot’s problem—not mine. But I can’t just stop thinking about it. I’m not the kind of person who can have a rational attitude toward everything.

Why hadn’t he told her about it? Would it be better if she pretended not to notice? She couldn’t give those questions, among other things, any more than a vexed clenching of her teeth. After all, Kamijou didn’t seem to know Mikoto had realized any of this, and he seemed to want it that way. She could awkwardly question him about it and force him to talk, but…in this case, that could end up only hurting him.

What should she do? Could she do anything about this problem?

Graaahhh!! Crap. Why the heck am I even worrying over that idiot?! Now I’m all impatient and confused, and that’s just making me more impatient. Maybe I should do a complete refresh and think about it from the beginning.

Still, if she could start thinking about something else just like that, she wouldn’t be suffering now. She heaved a heavy sigh.

“…?” Suddenly, she caught sight of someone sneaking around near a small movie theater on a street corner.

The big man, his hair a glossy black like a stag beetle, placed a soccer ball on the asphalt. He took a few steps back to give himself some room, nodded to several others nearby, and then launched a full-force free kick.

Pom! The soccer ball flew far, rotating horizontally, its spin giving it a sharp curve. It was so strong that in an official game, it probably would have flown by the defense’s wall and shot into the goal from the side.

Why were they doing this in the middle of the city? Mikoto, naturally, glanced at where the ball was headed.

And then she froze.

Ba-gam!! The ball struck Touma Kamijou in the side of the head.

And then the momentum sent his head flying into the cleavage of a nearby girl.

The force seemed to be so strong that Kamijou left his head buried in her chest, unconscious. The girl didn’t seem to know what to do in response, and as her face reddened, she decided to rub the spot the ball hit with her palm. The act made it look like she was squeezing his head in, but that wasn’t true, was it?

As Mikoto’s mouth opened and closed in amazement, she heard a “Yahoo!” from somewhere. She looked over and saw the stag beetle who had done the abrupt free kick from the roadside and a group of young people cheering and giving one another high fives.

Snap-snap. She heard sparks flying.

Before she realized she was producing a high-voltage current, she exploded. “Here I am, worrying my butt off…Quit kicking that stupid ball around to try to get weird things to happen!!”

Spears of lightning went zz-bam, zz-bam from her bangs in succession. When the stag beetle’s group saw, they scattered in all directions and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Like chameleons, they blended into the crowd, and although she looked, she couldn’t find a single one of them.

“???” Mikoto tilted her head in confusion.

But just because she’d lost sight of her targets didn’t mean her anger was quelled. After all, the source of everything, that spiky-haired boy, still had his face buried in that girl’s chest. And then he started groaning in his sleep and clutching her breasts.

“That idiot…How long are you going to let those big clumps of motherhood coddle you?!” she shouted, dashing straight for Kamijou to deliver his punishment.

6

It had been a terrible day.

Touma Kamijou heaved a sigh.

A sudden free kick had hit him from the roadside; follow-up lightning attacks had struck him from Mikoto…Then she pinioned Itsuwa, who was starting to assemble her lance to do her bodyguard duty, and then he had to flee all over Academy City because for some reason Mikoto was angry about him being so close to Itsuwa. He’d run so far and gotten so much exercise that he knew he wouldn’t have to worry at all about his metabolism.

And then, a new problem stood blocking his way.

Yes—this was where things got dicey.

“…Anyway, Touma, why is Itsuwa from Amakusa with you?”

The most dangerous checkpoint of the day.

The words Index had spoken as soon as he’d opened the door caused him to break out into a greasy sweat all over. She flashed her teeth, as if to say she was primed and ready to bite him at any time. Incredibly scary.

Incidentally, the calico cat always with her was circling Itsuwa, sniffing around, wondering who the new person was.

Kamijou wiped away some of the sweat on his brow. “W-well, you see,” he started. “How should I explain this…?”

Itsuwa, standing next to him with a blank expression, said, “What he’s trying to say is that God’s Right Seat—”

“Hi-yaaah!!” Kamijou suddenly let out a cry and gave Itsuwa a karate chop to the neck. Her body jolted, and then he went around behind and put her in a headlock before hastily dragging her away from Index and beginning secret talks.

“(…Itsuwa, please!! Um, well, could I possibly get you to kindly keep this a secret from Index?!)” he whispered urgently.

“Wh-what?!”

“(…Acqua’s only after me, so I think it would be best if he doesn’t have to go after Index, too! Please don’t say anything that will get her any closer to weird situations like this, okay?! Okay?!)”

“Wawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawa?!”

“(…Itsuwa, are you listening to me?)”

“I-I’m listening!! I got all of that—yes, I did!!”

Itsuwa shook her head rapidly, her face for some reason bright red.

Am I hurting her? he wondered. He put his arm around her shoulder and neck and grabbed her arm, but mysteriously enough, her expression turned somewhat unhappy.

And then…

“…”

Index, at some point, had gone completely stone-faced. She didn’t even explode in a fuss. “Whatever,” she muttered, turning back to the television again.

That made things very awkward. She was serious. This wasn’t her calling him stupid over and over. He saw the kind of dark aura he noticed around his classmate Himegami sometimes. Why did it come to this? And why on earth was she so angry? After Kamijou shook back and forth, he eventually assumed a quiet groveling position, his head pointing at Index’s back.

“…Well, I don’t really understand, but would you mind biting me before you completely explode? If you let the power of your anger disperse little by little like this, Mr. Kamijou would get away without any bites to the skull, you know.”

Despite Itsuwa’s uncertain fidgeting at the two of them being so still, it was perhaps her sense of duty that made her stick to her role of guardian. Her gaze drifted from one spot to the next until her eyes met with the cat’s as he finished smelling her.

“O-oh, that’s right. I brought a gift for the cat,” she said, not to calm the situation but to remove herself from the uncomfortable conversation, fishing around in her big bag.

What? thought Kamijou. How did she know we had a cat at the Kamijou residence?

No sooner had she removed a super-expensive-looking golden can with the words Feast for a Cat: Three-Star Platinum Rank on it than the cat froze with his hair on end. His eyes opened wide as his posture returned to normal. Itsuwa popped the lid off and offered it to him, but he seemed scared of it, as though saying, I may be a cat, but are you sure you want to feed me something so bourgeois?!

Then Kamijou, still in his highly rated groveling position, got a glimpse of a supermarket bag inside Itsuwa’s tote.

“…Why do you have meat and vegetables in your bag, Itsuwa?” he asked. “Are they for an Amakusa-Style secret fish spell?”

“N-no, nothing like that,” she said, waving her hands in front of her face. “Right now, I don’t have any food restrictions like fasting. I just got some ingredients at a nearby supermarket in advance. I, well, I can make simple things. I may be a bodyguard, but I would balk at freeloading. You can leave the housework to me. I’ll help with whatever I’m able to.”

For a moment, Kamijou didn’t understand what she’d just said. It took several blank seconds for him to finally realize the meaning of her commendable remark. This time, without a word, he moved his head around to look at Index.

“Wh-what, Touma?” she said. “Why does it feel like our positions just changed?”

“Look inside your heart for the answer. Who, exactly, has been leaving everything to poor Kamijou and refusing to help at all?”

“O-oh. Well, I’m sorry, but…Wait! You’re just saying that to try and turn the tables on me—”

She was about to see through his scheme, but now that the flow had turned against her, it wouldn’t change. Kamijou, indeed naturally, looked over toward his kitchen space. “Um, do you need me to tell you where the pots are?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Their exchange left the nun in white out of the picture, and the questions he’d had at the beginning, such as How did things come to this? and What is she trying to do? ended up being thrown into his mind’s trash bin.

I mean, even I don’t know why Itsuwa is so into this! I can’t explain what I don’t understand! W-well, right now, all I need to do is say thank you to Itsuwa! Fu-ha-ha!! What a marvelous feat—I escaped Index’s pursuit without having to get bitt— Urgh!!

Just as he was basking in the glow of victory, Index, angry anyway, bit the back of his head, and he began rolling around in pain. The act made the gorgeous can of cat food splatter all over the floor, and the cat began lapping it up greedily, as if saying, What a waste!! I’ll just have to eat it! All of it!!

Itsuwa gave a pained laugh and headed into the kitchen. To her eyes, it looked like a heartwarming scene, but for the victim, it was a scene straight out of hell.

Still, though…, he thought. This was the Amakusa ability to blend in with their environment and all that stuff. Kamijou looked over to she who had, one way or another, been accepted at some point.

Spread on the floor facedown like an unnatural death with human bite marks in the back of his head, he began to hear the sounds of boiling from a pot and high-pitched sizzling from a frying pan.

I—I get to see a girl cooking, he thought, almost ready to let a tear trickle from his eye.

“Hm? Touma, why do you look like a lamb who just witnessed a miracle?” asked Index.

Kamijou ignored the sister and took in all the blessed light.

Then he started to feel uncomfortable. He was relaxing and letting Itsuwa do all the work. Maybe I should clean up the room or something, he thought. Rather seriously, in fact.

Meanwhile, Index, who had vented most of her stress with her Kamijou head bite, started floating toward the kitchen as though drawn by the scent of cooking.

“What?” said Itsuwa. “No, don’t eat that fish cake!!”

“Talk all you want—my mouth is past the point of no return!”

Seeing Index, having immediately given in to her own hunger, starting to get in the way, Touma Kamijou rose abruptly. After a fearsome dash, he wrapped his hands around Index’s waist and quickly tugged her out of the kitchen space. Then, using the momentum from his lead-up, he hurled her onto the bed with a cry in a strange pro-wrestling throwing technique.

“Don’t ruin a man’s dreeeeeeeeeeeeeams!!”

“Mgyuh?! T-Touma, what was that for?!” she shouted, eyes spinning. The cat kept his distance as though annoyed, but Kamijou wasn’t about to give her a real response. Silently, he grabbed Index’s head and spun it to face the kitchen. “Look at that, Index!! That is what a freeloader should look like!!”

“Ow, ow, ow! Why are you so worked up today, Touma?!”

“Now that I think about it, why are you the ‘do nothing but eat, sleep, and watch TV’ type anyway?! You’ll be working from now on. Go get a sponge and the cleaning spray and clean the bathroom!!”

“Aww, but the Magical Powered Kanamin Integral reruns are about to start!”

“I don’t care—just do some work around here already!!”

As Index did nothing but act baffled, Kamijou threw her into the bathroom. Looking at an upstanding citizen like Itsuwa just cleansed your soul. Compared to when others were nearby, like that flame-throwing, cigarette-stinking sorcerer priest or that multi-spy who went “nya, nya” every day of the year, Index seemed relatively “normal.” But when he really thought about it, “girl with common sense” was a title he only felt right giving to someone like Itsuwa.

Anyway, I should be an upstanding citizen myself and clean up the room, he thought…But he didn’t feel like it was a fair trade, since Itsuwa was making him dinner and he’d messed up the room on his own. Still better than doing nothing, he figured—a slapped-together pet theory in the end—before bundling up the open magazines littered about the floor.

And then it happened.

“What…What on earth is that fundamentally Japanese smell?!”

As soon as he heard a girl’s sudden cry, there came a krrrsh-krrrsh from the veranda that sounded like plastic being destroyed. Kamijou turned, startled, and Itsuwa stopped cooking in surprise; they both saw Maika Tsuchimikado there in her maid clothes.

She must have torn right through the board separating the verandas for each room, which were kindly not supposed to be broken unless there was a fire or other emergency, and invaded.

“You’ll pay for that!!” cried Kamijou bitterly. “I was finally feeling clean, like an upstanding citizen, and now another freak shows up!!”

Maika ignored him and sniffed around, getting closer and closer to the kitchen, her normally impassive face seeming extremely focused.

“I smell it, I can smell it! …That miso soup…You’re using dried scallops ground to a powder as the secret ingredient, aren’t you…?”

“H-how did you know?! Not even my mother ever figured that out!!”

Itsuwa, the chef, was shocked she’d been labeled a gourmet.

Mothers really are the root of all cooking! thought Kamijou, a little sentimental at the hidden domestic word. Meanwhile, Itsuwa, who had just served a small amount of miso soup onto a small plate to test how it tasted, thought for a moment, then, with slow motions, handed the small plate to the girl in maid clothes.

Completely silent, Maika received it with formal gestures like a tea ceremony, bringing it to her lips and pausing for a moment—then gwaaah!! Her eyes popped open.

“Th-this woman…She’s good…”

“Wh-what?”

“Gwooorraaaahhhhh!!” she roared, her tone of voice doing a one-eighty. “This…This cannot stand!!” She went back to the veranda with alacrity and returned to the next room over.

From their open window came the conversation of siblings.

“Wh-what?! Why are you taking away today’s white stew, nya?! Wait, what about my dinner?!”

“Quiet, outsider!! Now that I’ve seen something like that, there’s no way something like this could stand up to it! J-just you wait! Soon, you’ll have a taste of true miso soup!!”

“What?! I was perfectly fine with that stew just now!!” moaned the blond-haired, sunglasses-wearing agent.

Itsuwa’s shoulders perked up ominously. “U-um, have I heard that voice before? In Avignon…? More importantly, what on earth happened to that girl?”

I don’t really know, but you probably struck some strange chord to make that maid candidate view you as a rival, thought Kamijou, about to say it before deciding not to. Itsuwa was a decent person. She didn’t seem used to weirdos doing odd things around her.

For Kamijou’s part, he could only think one thing.

He prayed that she, if nobody else, would remain untainted by these oddballs.

7

For a while, he questioned the relationship between Index and Itsuwa, but once Index ate Itsuwa’s cooking, she seemed to completely soften up toward her. Right now, she was idling about the floor, troubling Itsuwa by wanting an eighth helping. The cat, for his part, was having his own fun chewing on a rolled-up hand towel Itsuwa brought.

Kamijou sighed. Well, at least it didn’t turn into major trouble. If he’d known it was this easy to get Index in a better mood, maybe he’d have to start keeping a constant stock of fish sausages to throw her when she was angry…Though, no, he thought, correcting himself; she was sure to bite him as soon as she realized he was hiding treats from her. Nothing ever went that smoothly.

In any case, with dinner done, there was nothing more to do. He didn’t have any homework today, and he was never the type to study on his own, so the only things left were to take a bath and go to sleep.

But that was where the problem happened.

“How the heck did you manage to break the bathtub with a sponge and spray cleaner, Index?!”

“B-but I just did what you said! I scrubbed it!!”

As Kamijou and Index’s shouting echoed through the night streets, Itsuwa smiled painfully. The three of them had gone out for a simple reason. The bathtub in Kamijou’s room (actually, the water heater) was busted and unusable, so they’d ended up walking over to a nearby public bath.

“By the way, I would be willing to bet that you, in fact, did not scrub it like poor Kamijou said! And why did I smell plastic melting from the faucet? Because you poured undiluted cleaning detergent all over it! How do you like that detective work?!”

“What? I thought you were supposed to put the detergent on to make it clean.”

“Woo-hah! There it is—that wondrous natural confusion of yours!! And thanks to you, the inside of the water heater got burned and almost set the dorm on fire!!”

“Ah…ah-ha-ha. W-well, it’s a nice change of pace to use an outside bath once in a while, isn’t it?” interrupted Itsuwa with a godlike support play.

Kamijou and Index quieted down. People generally stopped being able to raise hell with someone meekly worrying about them.

Itsuwa flipped through a small notebook. “Academy City has a surprising number of public baths. It has the traditional indoor variety, natural hot springs, and even spa resorts…Oh, why not go here? It’s apparently attached to an amusement facility.”

“…Wait, Itsuwa, how do you have such detailed information about Academy City?” Even Kamijou, a local, didn’t know there were natural hot springs here. And she wasn’t holding a guidebook distributed by a city publisher—it was an old notepad, written in so much that it was almost falling apart.

“(…Um, well, getting an understanding of the local geography is crucial when guarding a target…,)” Itsuwa whispered in a barely audible voice. “(And since Acqua is on the magic side, I thought the ‘lines’ running through the city would help predict how he moves.)”

…It was all well and good that she was passionate about her work, but Kamijou was a little worried. Anti-Skill wouldn’t attack before Acqua, in order to follow the rules that upheld secrecy, right? “So where are these leisure baths anyway?”

“Um, it looks like School District 22. This is District 7, so that means it’s the next district over.”

“School District 22…The underground city?” Despite its status as smallest of all the districts in surface area at about two square kilometers, the super-futuristic spot stood out even in Academy City—which was already sci-fi to begin with—for its development having gone hundreds of meters belowground.

“Hmm,” he muttered. “The last train’s already gone, though.”

Itsuwa continued flipping through her rusty notebook. “It’s not very far away. We’ll get there soon if we borrow a rental motorcycle with a sidecar. Thankfully, it looks like there’s a shop for that nearby, too.”

“Wait, you can ride motorcycles, Itsuwa?”

“Well yes, kind of. I can drive cars, motorcycles, small boats…I can’t fly an airplane, but I could manage a helicopter…”

She spoke as though she was ashamed. Did it bother her that she couldn’t fly an airplane?

“Japan’s transit system is highly developed,” she continued, “so I don’t need it here that much, but…Depending on the job, there could be long stretches of desert or plains nearby.”

She wasn’t especially bragging or anything. She was squeaking like a fly, as though she’d been scolded for something. Anyway, that would mean she didn’t have a Japanese driver’s license, but an international one. From Kamijou’s point of view, just riding a unicycle was out of this world, so he already had respect for her.

I’m learning a lot of surprising things about Itsuwa the normal girl today, he thought, a little impressed, as they decided to walk into a branch of a motorcycle rental place near the dorms. With all the students in Academy City, there was more demand for them than rental cars, so there were more of these kinds of shops.

Kamijou had a staring contest with the price tag on the motorcycle and eventually gave a frightful face, like he’d been hit by lightning. “I…I see. You’re not a student from District 7, so you don’t get the local discount!!”

“Um, well, that’s fine. I have plenty of funds,” said Itsuwa.

But he had the accounting skills of a housewife, and he knew one basic rule: get everything for as cheaply as possible. In the end, they rented a medium-sized bike on a late-night special, mainly for people who missed the last train and couldn’t get home. They paid extra to have the sidecar attached.

Itsuwa was the one driving, and Kamijou sat perched behind her. Index was in the sidecar.

“Touma,” said Index, “I’m sensing something from how we set this up.”

“N-no, you’re not. You see, ladies first, a-and the sidecar is the comfiest seat here, so poor old Kamijou had no choice but to give it up,” he stated in a suspicious-sounding monotone—the best he could manage, after his heart started pounding as soon as he’d put his arms around Itsuwa.

As Itsuwa tried to be too helpful and push the helmet down over the nun’s habit, she suddenly realized something. “Oh. Was it all right to leave your cat at the dorm?”

“We can’t exactly bring animals into public baths,” said Kamijou. “Our cat is the type to just laze around all the time, so I think he’ll be fine.”

Incidentally, the calico was currently in front of a super-high-class scratching post Itsuwa had brought with her, trembling and wondering, C-cypress?! It smells really good for some reason—she’s not going to get mad at me if I use my claws on it, right?! But nobody noticed that.

In any case, once Index mastered the proper way to wear the helmet, Itsuwa started up the motorcycle’s engine.

“Oh, wow!” she said. “Academy City sure is empty at night. The steering and the sound of the engine feel good, and the road conditions are clean. I might accidentally start speeding…Maybe we should have bitten the bullet and gone for one of the city’s famous superconductive linear cycles. I think I heard that it uses magnetic force to repel the wheels from the housing, thus moving the donut-shaped wheels using electricity or something.”

“Well, I don’t know much about bikes, but compared to the technology outside…And I’d like to request that you drive safely—Itsuwa, you idiot! Stop! You’re going way too fast!!”

Kamijou reactively tightened his grip around Itsuwa’s stomach, but he wasn’t thinking well enough to realize she was happy for the reaction and speeding up because of it.

His dorm was on the edge of District 7. District 22 was adjacent to it and close enough to get to on foot. Itsuwa had brought a motorcycle simply out of consideration that they’d feel cold after the bath and want to get back home quickly.

When they left District 7 and entered District 22, Index’s eyes went wide in the sidecar. “Wow, wow! Touma, there’s a jungle gym! A humongous jungle gym!!”

District 22’s aboveground portion was very different from the other school districts. There were no normal houses and buildings here—it was just lines and lines of wind turbines. And they weren’t the electric pole replacements like they were in normal districts, but actual rows and columns of pillars like the cube of a steel building’s frame; the propellers stacked upward as well, reaching about thirty stories high. It looked exactly as Index said—like a giant jungle gym.

As they headed for the gate to the underground city, Itsuwa, hands on the handlebars, said, “Since District 22 is all underground, it can’t rely on wind power or solar power like the other districts can. Plus, it apparently uses so much electricity that they had to build generators on every little bit of the district to provide enough.”

The strangely erudite Itsuwa guided the motorcycle through the squarish gate leading underground.

Beneath the surface, District 22 was a giant standing cylinder, two kilometers in diameter. The road crawled around the outside of the cylinder, spiraling downward as it went. If you put it together with the opposite lane going upward, it would look like the spinning pole in front of barber shops.

The tunnel, illuminated with orange lights, seemed to gently curve around forever. The decorative lighting here was different from normal. Index waved her hands in the air in delight.

Kamijou breathed in the air, tinged with the smell of exhaust. “Underground cities don’t go too well with Japan, huh?” he said. “I’d be super-scared of earthquakes and stuff. No matter how strong you make the walls, if the entire fault in the ground moves, it’ll all get torn apart, right?”

“They do make a point of claiming their earthquake provisions are perfect, though,” mused Itsuwa. “Oh, yes—I believe they say that this spiraling road we’re on acts like a giant spring, and when an earthquake happens, it softens the impact.”

“…That is a completely groundless rumor. Wait, why do you know about urban legends? They wouldn’t even be on the blueprints.”

Itsuwa passed this off with an awkward laugh, then said, “By the way, what stratum are these leisure baths on?”

“Um, I believe the third.”

“Touma, what’s a stratum?” asked Index. “Does it have to do with rocks?”

“No, not that kind of stratum,” he said. “They’re like floors. District 22 is divided into ten underground strata. And we’re apparently going to the third one from the top.”

Their conversation went on, and before long, they saw the entrance to Stratum 3, ninety meters belowground. Itsuwa turned on her blinker, decelerated, and turned onto the road leading to it.

Once they went through, the view really opened up. “Wow…!!” Index gaped.

Unlike the orange in the tunnel, this space was a pale blue. It was giant—two meters in diameter, and about twenty meters tall. The ceiling was a giant planetarium screen, giving a real-time display of the starry skies captured on surface cameras. And because the city’s illumination was all the same color, it gave the impression to those who entered of bursting straight into the middle of a sea of stars.

Groups of widely spaced buildings towered up as if to break through the planetarium screens, while at the same time functioning as pillars to support this underground city. Of course, the city’s roof was a steel frame carriage to distribute the weight, much like a gymnasium’s. But apparently, the roof was built so a steel frame was all it needed to support itself. There were several redundant designs in place to support things if it went awry, as well.

Index turned around and around in the sidecar, looking at the scenery. “Are we actually underground? There’s a river, too! And a forest!!”

“That forest is apparently an application of hydroponic technologies found inside agricultural buildings,” explained Itsuwa. “In addition to purifying the air, it’s useful for living as well, for mental health purposes. And the water is ostensibly an important power source in this underground city. It falls to each of the strata in turn, all the while producing water power for them.” For some reason, Itsuwa seemed like a tour bus guide to Academy City today.

Index tilted her head. “Itsuwa, why does it need so much electricity?”

“Hmm. The biggest reason is probably the pumps. They have to be able to get oxygen from the surface and then pump the carbon dioxide back out. And they have to purge rainwater and domestic wastewater, so large pumps are indispensable. Forty percent of District 22’s electricity consumption supposedly goes into operating the pumps, and it’s one of the obstacles to using a place like this for practical purposes.”

Most of Academy City’s generators relied on wind power, so they could generate however much they wanted without there being much need for worry regarding fuel expenses and environmental destruction. But it didn’t work like that in other countries and regions. With environmental issues a much-discussed topic and the price of petroleum increasing by the day, constructing an underground city while having to rely on fossil fuels was realistically too difficult a proposition. Of course, one of the reasons was that unlike Academy City, with its clear city limits, bigger nations with a lot more arable land didn’t need to build a city underground.

Well, getting your research to show results and actually bringing it into the market are different issues, after all, thought Kamijou.

Their sidecar-attached motorcycle raced through the man-made ocean of stars. Kamijou, riding in the backseat, pointed to the decorative illumination on a building in the distance they could now see. “Hm? Hey, Itsuwa, are those the leisure baths you were talking about?”

“Oh, I think you’re right.”

“Isn’t that a pretty popular place, though?”

“Well, yes. Apparently, it’s third in the city’s bath rankings.”

…Is that kind of info really going to help guard me from Acqua?

Kamijou had his doubts, but Itsuwa didn’t. “What about it?” she asked.

“Nothing…Was just thinking that it’s a popular place, so I might run into someone I know.”

8

Mikoto Misaka stopped and glanced up at the giant, towering building.

The words PEACEFUL SPRINGS SPA RESORT sat emblazoned on its entrance. The structure stretched all the way from District 22’s ground to its ceiling. Broadly speaking, big baths filled the place. There was an extensive lineup of varieties, including several with various medicinal properties, or electric ones, or ones utilizing ultrasonic waves. Nonetheless, it had space left over, which was crammed full of shopping malls, arcades, bowling alleys, and the like.

It wasn’t a traditional bathhouse as much as a leisure facility with baths in it. It was designed for a target audience of boys and girls in their teens, too, which made sense because of Academy City’s student population.

Thanks to its status as a mainly amusement-based facility, it included VIP baths as well, but Mikoto was after something else.

“…The post-bath Croaker cell phone strap…”

It was a limited-time character item you could get by having ten points on a stamp card. If not for the strap, there wouldn’t have been a reason to break her dorm’s curfew, sneak out, and shake off her roommate Kuroko Shirai’s pursuit.

I mean, bringing her would have been fine, but…Whenever we’re at a bath or something, she always pesters me like a coiling snake…Imagining it for a moment gave her a chill down her spine. She shook her head to dispel the unwanted imagery and stormed the bath building. A large hall awaited her on the other side of the entrance, but it had nothing like a reception desk. It was set up so that you paid at the bath entries on each floor.

She slipped by a group flapping fans for cooling off and a group of kids bored of the water and running to the arcade, then headed for the elevator.

“All right,” she said, looking at the map on the wall. “Where should I get my stamp today…?”

She’d already been in the ultrasonic wave bath, and electromasters like her couldn’t use the electric ones. By process of elimination, she was left with only the ones with heightened basic medicinal properties. It sounded ominous when put like that, but they were simply baths adjusted to have the same effects as outdoor hot springs, analyzed scientifically.

“They should just come out and say they use bath additives…,” she muttered bluntly, taking the elevator up. Once there, she paid the fee at the bath’s entrance, borrowed a towel, went into the changing room, and quickly undressed. After wrapping herself in the lightly colored towel, she closed her locker and was all ready to head in.

…Unfortunately, this towel is pretty small. A little conscious of her thighs poking out the edge of the bath towel, Mikoto opened the door to the large bath.

She couldn’t feel the building’s unique height whatsoever here. There were no windows. It wasn’t a scenic place in the mountains—they were in the middle of the city. Putting windows in the women’s bath so they could see the scenery would have been suicidal—though of course, this was District 22, so even if it had windows, all anyone inside would see was the regular underground view.

The interior was similar to a typical public bath with separate communal shower and tub areas, but here, the bathing area was split into three sections, each at a different temperature. No paintings of Mount Fuji covered the walls—instead, one wall was taken up by a huge monitor that used colorized magnetic particles. The revolutionary screen’s selling point was that you didn’t need to use light to display color; you could directly alter the particles for that. Unfortunately, it was absurdly expensive, and normal people had no problems with the screens they’d always used. Tragically, only a few artists and movie theaters had bought any of them.

The monitor appeared to double as a touch screen, and a few younger girls were playing with it. “It’s true! I really saw a white angel.” “There’s no such thing!” “I’m telling the truth. It beat the evil!” they said, putting their hands all over it, drawing pictures. Another woman who looked like she’d come back from the office was watching a nighttime drama on a small window isolated from the rest of the screen.

Mikoto sat down in a corner of the room where the shower faucets were and gently grabbed one of the sensor-equipped heads. After a few seconds, a small monitor at the base of the faucet displayed “38°.” The sensor measured her body temperature from her palm, and then—in addition to actually cleaning her—adjusted the water to its most effective temperature for her.

You know, I could have just gone into the tub for a few seconds and left, if all I wanted was a stamp. No, that wouldn’t have felt right…Maybe I should have brought Kuroko, dangerous though it might be, and gotten twice the stamps—wait, no, no…?!

As she thought about nothing, she gave herself a light wash with some body soap, then used the hot water to rinse the bubbles off.

But I still only have half the stamps I need. That post-bath Croaker strap is a long way away…

Mikoto didn’t actually like baths that hot, so she chose the one section of tub out of the three that was intended for little kids and walked that way.

And then she stopped.

In front of her…

…was a silver-haired, green-eyed sister she knew, soaking in the tub.

“Wh-what?! What the heck are you doing here?!” Mikoto exclaimed.

Index, in the muddy white bathwater, put her pointer finger to her mouth. “…You have to be quiet in the bath!”

She was right, after all, so Mikoto closed her mouth and dejectedly put her foot in.

And then Index piped up again. “…You can’t bring the towel into the water!”

Mikoto found herself yielding, a little depressed, to the foreigner lecturing her on Japan’s public bath rules. She took off the lightly colored towel and went into the water up to her shoulders, then noticed a unique, unfamiliar girl right next to Index with epicanthic folds in her eyes.

Actually, she wasn’t unfamiliar. “Wait, you’re the woman that idiot had his face on after that weird soccer ball incident!!”

The sudden cry made the plain girl sputter and her face turn red. She waved her hands around, saying, “N-no, I—I, no, well, I—I!!” trying to make some kind of excuse and failing. Meanwhile, the foreign nun was opening her mouth just a little, her teeth glinting from within.

But Mikoto wasn’t listening to the plain-looking girl’s words. She glanced at her chest, now less guarded because of her flailing, making an educated guess based on what little she could see from the whitened bath water.

Bigger than I thought…She tsked, realizing she’d have to accept her loss honestly. The girl was hidden in the colored water now, but the moment she left the tub it would doubtlessly drive the dagger of despair into Mikoto.

As she watched the plain girl babble on incoherently, probably trying to defend herself, she had a sudden thought.

Did these two know about that idiot’s “circumstances”?

His circumstances.

His memory loss.

Mikoto had learned of it very recently. She didn’t know anything about it, like how long it had been going on or how it had happened. Based solely on the fragmentary clues she’d gotten, though, it seemed like that idiot wanted to keep the fact to himself…but that was all she could surmise.

Do they…well…Could they know about his amnesia?

She watched them casually, searching for any signs of it, but she wasn’t a psychometer; she couldn’t read other people’s thoughts that easily.

Still soaking in the tub, she thought further. Wait, this is all that idiot’s problem. I don’t have a thing to do with it. There’s no reason for me to solve anything…and I know that, but ugh, why do I have to worry this much over that idiot in the first place—it’s a huge pain, and I can’t blub blub blub blub blub blub blub…

“Wh-what?! Short Hair, you’re sinking in the tub!”

“She’s gotten dizzy!! We have to help her—quick!!”

“?”

Kamijou, who had gotten out of the bath before the others, was standing in front of a vending machine trying to decide whether to take the milk coffee or ice cream when he suddenly heard footsteps. He turned around.

He saw a female nurse burst out of a room with FIRST-AID OFFICE written on the door and charge into the women’s bath, but of course, he didn’t know what was happening inside.

9

With this thing and that, the fun-filled bath time was over. Kamijou exited the leisure bath building and stood around at the entrance. Not to smoke, of course—he wanted to feel the night breeze.

“…But I totally forgot we’re underground,” he said after a while, noticing the state of perfect windlessness, his shoulders dropping.

Disappointed though he was, he had another thought. Acqua of the Back, one of God’s Right Seat, the most secret group in the Roman Orthodox Church, had declared war…It was an emergency—and enough of one that it should have been all he was worried about. But now that it had happened, nothing was really happening.

Was it just a bluff…? No, I think it’s a little early to decide that, he thought with a groan as Itsuwa, smelling kind of good after getting out of the bath, approached him.

“You’ll get the chills if you stand out here,” she said.

“Actually, I was feeling a little dizzy, so this is nice.”

“Um, we’ll be using the motorcycle to get home, too, so considering all that time, you might really get chilly.”

Kamijou immediately deflated at the reserved remark.

Itsuwa giggled at him. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“You’re the one who just said I’d get the chills!!”

“If we’re going to anyway, we may as well. And after all, can’t you get back in the bath again afterward? Several of the baths here seem like pools that you can play in.”

That would be a paradise all its own, thought Kamijou, agreeing with her inwardly. To be frank, being in the men’s bath by himself had been lonely.

“Oh, right. What should we do about Index?”

“The last I saw her, she was running around the free sample corner in the ‘food space’ inside.”

If he stopped her and invited her for a walk, she was sure to bite him on the spot. He figured she wouldn’t be leaving the free sample corner, so she wouldn’t get lost.

…Besides, this seems like a good chance to talk about Acqua, too. Acqua of the Back might come to Academy City—and they’d kept it secret from Index. Kamijou was his lone target this time. He didn’t want to say too much to her and drag her into a dangerous spot.

With that, he decided to go for a walk in the nighttime underground city with Itsuwa.

The nightscape was almost entirely blue, looking both like the scales of some strange southern butterfly and like an ocean covered with coral. Perhaps because his body was hot after having just gotten out of the bath, it strangely didn’t make him feel cold.

“Hey, Amakusa moved from Japan to England, right?” he asked.

“Well, yes.”

“What’s it like living in England?”

“Hmm…” Itsuwa thought for just a moment. “We did move to London, but they assigned us to a Japanese city block, so it’s not all that different. All three meals are the same as in Japan.”

“Wait, really?”

“Hmm…” Itsuwa smiled more ambiguously, pausing for just a second. “Well, Amakusa has always been able to learn about any environment and blend in with it. I think, when we’re headed somewhere we’ve never been, we treat it differently than most people would.”

That would mean Itsuwa and the others hadn’t dragged their Japanese customs there—maybe they’d chosen to stay in a place it wouldn’t be strange for a group of Japanese people to hang around. They probably wouldn’t care where they went, really, whether it was Japan or the West or China.

“The English Puritan Church is treating us well, too. Our lives are good in London—in an Amakusa way, of course,” she added with a smile.

But it couldn’t have been that simple. Kamijou had seen their situation several times now. If a political issue arose while they acted on behalf of the Church, the higher-ups would definitely mobilize only Amakusa members so they could “cut off the lizard’s tail,” if the need occurred. Becoming affiliated with a huge organization also meant having odd jobs forced upon you.

But Kamijou swallowed all that and just said, “Oh.” Itsuwa had more than a smile on her face, but she nevertheless looked satisfied with her current situation. “By the way, Amakusa blends into cities and stuff, right?”

“Yes. That’s what we aim for, at least.”

“Does that mean…?” he started to say, looking at her outfit again. She was wearing a pink tank top over a brightly colored, sheeplike sweater. Her dark, slim pants had cuts in them that spiraled around the legs, with clear vinyl holding it together to prevent it from flipping up. “Does everyone in London wear clothes like that?”

“Oh, um…I tried to pick an outfit that would let me blend in with Academy City…,” she said uneasily. “Do I stand out…?”

Kamijou shook his head.

She seemed relieved. “It’s hard to explain this sort of thing verbally, but in London, the standard choice of clothing feels a little more mature.”

“Huh, I see. I don’t know any brands and stuff other than Academy City’s. So I guess if you build a wardrobe with a bunch of clothes from over there, then it generally all looks like this?”

“Um, it’s not that, exactly. After all, most people in London don’t only wear domestic brands. In fact, there are actually cases where it could turn out terribly if I chose my outfit based on that assumption alone…But beyond that, even when wearing the same outfit, it’s possible to give off a completely different impression depending on the gestures you use and how you behave.”

Itsuwa was muttering at this point. She dealt with all her fashion choices by instinct, so it was hard for her to explain it logically. It was the same as if you asked someone to tell you how to drive a car—most wouldn’t be able to give you an answer aside from “you just drive it.”

Whatever the case, Kamijou was sort of interested in what Itsuwa wore in London. What immediately came to mind was one other acquaintance he had in Amakusa besides her—Kaori Kanzaki.

“…But aren’t Kanzaki’s clothes kind of weird?”

“I…?! Wh—? I, you, weird…?”

“I mean, she’s mature and everything, but she seems like she’s definitely more on the sexy side than mature.”

“What a suddenly dreadful evaluation of our Priestess! It’s not for the sex appeal; it’s so she can build spells, since the lack of symmetry and balance is effective for what she’s using, and it’s not like she’s doing it to show off her curves or anything…!!”

Itsuwa had snapped out of the charm and was now balling her hands into fists in front of her as she launched into her explanation.

Kamijou flinched a little at the late bloomer. “Th-then what? Are you all just gung-ho about being in London? Like it was the right choice?”

Itsuwa seemed dumbfounded by Kamijou’s sudden change in topic. “??? Well, we’re happy we could go to where our Priestess is,” she said. “Um, we’ve traveled far away, so it is a shame we can’t see people in Japan whenever we like…” She walked next to him, looking down a little, muttering the next part to herself. “But lately I’ve started to think maybe that’s okay. Kind of like Orihime and Hikoboshi…”

“? What’s wrong, Itsuwa?” asked Kamijou blankly.

“N-nothing!! Nothing’s wrong, nothing at all!!” she answered, starting to blush all of a sudden and flap her hands in front of her.

10

The current Amakusa team, centered around Saiji Tatemiya, was a short distance away from Kamijou and Itsuwa. They were spread out in a circle around them, securing the main access routes to the pair while continuously matching their pace. Plus, they were completely blending in with the background, without showing any signs of protecting someone. Had an expert bodyguard seen the situation, they would have marveled. And the Amakusa wouldn’t even let themselves be known to experts.

Tatemiya, a central figure to Amakusa, which received its orders from the English Puritan Church, was walking down the street in a group made up of a few youngsters (or pretending to be). They proceeded on a route past several karaoke bars and other indoor leisure facilities, pretending to window shop and discuss which place to visit, all the while following Kamijou and Itsuwa at a constant distance.

“What do you think?” asked Ushibuka from next to him.

“About the Itsuwa-pushes-Index-out-of-the-way-for-a-nighttime-date operation?”

“About Acqua of the Back,” he responded shortly.

Tatemiya’s expression shifted slightly. He gave a casual look around. “No signs of infiltration yet. That’s the report we got from Academy City, too.”

“…I still don’t trust it.”

“When you say you don’t trust it, you could mean two different things.” Tatemiya smirked. “The first is that you simply can’t trust Academy City’s security when it comes to sorcery. The second would imply the city leaders are scheming, withholding their intelligence from us. Which is it you can’t believe in, Ushibuka?”

“Well…”

“The fact that we have three powers—Academy City, the English Puritan Church, and the Roman Orthodox Church’s God’s Right Seat—plotting against one another over a single high school kid is already strange.”

“The Vicar Pope?”

“Yeah, I get it. The name Touma Kamijou means something for Amakusa, too. He’s saved us before, and also fought by our side.

“But,” said Tatemiya, interrupting himself, “what is Touma Kamijou to Academy City? What is he to the English Church? What is he to God’s Right Seat? …Is he alone valuable enough for giant groups like those to mobilize?”

The few around him in the group fell silent for a moment. They knew the answer, and they thought it then but refrained from saying it aloud.

“…We can postulate a few things,” said Saiji Tatemiya eventually. “But is his ‘worth’ shared among all three of those organizations, even though they’re put together differently and spread out in different ways? That’s where the ideas stop. I get the feeling there’s still a lot we don’t know.”

“Vicar Pope…”

“If we really want to guard Touma Kamijou, we might need to look into that as well. We’ve been on the back foot, reacting to the attacks until now. We should directly hit the attackers at home, whoever they are.”

That was where he stopped talking. He’d noticed something was wrong.

People were disappearing. At some point, Tatemiya’s group had become the only people walking on this nighttime underground street.

Someone had somehow manipulated the flow of traffic. So precisely that even Amakusa, which specialized in blending into crowds, hadn’t noticed.

“…” Tatemiya had no words. He signaled with his fingers, and the youngsters with him reached for their concealed weapons.

As they’d been carefully observing their surroundings, Amakusa had felt something.

A sense of oppression.

It was much like the burst of air that came when a subway car arrived at the platform. Something simply huge had come near, and they were feeling its aftereffects.

Tatemiya turned to look that way.

And there was…

11

In that underground city, covered entirely in blue, Kamijou and Itsuwa walked together. The blue was caused by how this city was designed to be scenic from the planning stages, unlike normal cities. The unified nightscape felt somewhat cramped, but as a whole, it was still beautiful.

Itsuwa, walking next to him, suddenly spoke. “No sign of Acqua.”

“…I’m sure Academy City security hasn’t stopped him. That would be too convenient.”

Their relaxing time made it easy to forget their biggest problem at the present moment was still God’s Right Seat.

Academy City’s police force, Anti-Skill, was no pushover, but Kamijou had seen numerous sorcerers break into the city in the past. He didn’t think leaving this in their hands would eliminate the need for worry. In fact, Acqua had broken into the city once already to retrieve Vento of the Front.

The Amakusa reinforcements were reliable, but even there, the implication was that they could only support him so far as they didn’t cause a political issue and get cut away with the rest of the lizard’s tail. If the English Church wanted to fight Acqua full force, without worrying about how it looked, they would have used Kanzaki without thinking twice.

With the change in conversation, it felt like the very blueness of the city had changed in nature. Whether by unexpected coincidence or what, the color Acqua used was blue, apparently.

“We should be grateful there hasn’t been an attack, but…,” said Itsuwa, her voice somewhat unsteady. She probably couldn’t decide how to take this.

As they progressed through the streets dyed in blue, Kamijou thought a bit. “They might be secretly preparing somewhere in the city or throwing all sorts of complicated things together. Again.”

Still, the two of God’s Right Seat he’d already fought—Vento of the Front and Terra of the Left—attacked in polar opposite ways. One invaded Academy City to stomp him out in a fair fight, and the other caused worldwide chaos as a roundabout way to strangle the science side.

He couldn’t get a grasp on the whole of God’s Right Seat with a sample size of two. In fact, both Vento and Terra had been too irritable to use as a reference now.

“We’ll just have to keep an eye out for now…,” said Itsuwa, clenching a small fist. “Everyone’s doing their best, out of sight, including the vicar pope. Come who may, we’ll still do the best we can. If we’re just doing the same as we always do, we don’t need to be especially conscious about it.”

“Same as always, huh…?” said Kamijou, a wry grin forming on his lips. “Still, with this crazy God’s Right Seat after us, the bathtub breaking and us coming to a leisure facility seems kind of pathetic…”

“N-no, not at all. I don’t think so at all,” argued Itsuwa, flapping her hands in front of her. “A strong enemy may be after you, but if you’re constantly on your guard, it’ll wear you out. It’s important to keep yourself in peak condition. That way, you can use everything you have when the time comes. Relaxing is actually very efficient in that way. If you try too hard to live in some special rhythm, things never go well. It would be like releasing a freshwater fish into the ocean.”

“Is it?” wondered Kamijou aloud.

Their walking route wasn’t set in stone. If they talked about Acqua in front of Index, she’d doubtlessly want to fight him. They’d simply decided to keep this all a secret from her. They’d said what they needed to, and they’d just come up to a river; he idly figured they’d cross the iron bridge and return by a different route.

“By the way, where are the other Amakusa people? Like Tatemiya.”

“Well, you see…I think they’re keeping watch for us a little farther away, even now.” Her tone of voice sounded a little disappointed. “…If we had the Priestess with us, too, we’d have the strength of an army.”

“You mean Kanzaki, right? I guess she’s pretty great, huh?”

“W-well, yes! The Priestess is one of only twenty saints in the entire world! No matter what the problem is, if the Priestess was here, she’d solve it in one fell swoop!!”

“Huh. I see,” said Kamijou super-helpfully. “Well, she did fight that archangel, the one with the “Power of God,” so she must be really amazing.”

“Bgwehah?! Fighting…with an archangel? What is that supposed to mean…?!”

“What?” he wondered. It had happened under special circumstances, during Angel Fall; was that why Itsuwa didn’t know about it? They seemed to have heard—from Tsuchimikado, most likely—that he’d barged into the changing room while Kanzaki was in there, but…it seemed Kamijou wasn’t quite able to get a good mental image of Angel Fall.

He groaned and scratched his head. “Saints and angels sure are amazing. The world is full of amazing people.”

“Th-that’s a very sloppy evaluation of them…” Itsuwa looked like she hadn’t fully recovered from her shock. “But really, between an angel and a saint, angels are ranked higher.”

“Is that right? So even Kanzaki couldn’t beat one if she tried really hard?”

“Well, that’s a difficult question…In terms of raw strength, an angel is definitely stronger. The capacity a single angel has is far, far greater than any powers given to a saint.”

According to Itsuwa, there was a limit to how far humans could control saintly powers, and could even destroy themselves if they pushed it too far beyond that. Even scholars in the magic world could only theorize about why angels could store so much power without going berserk. Nobody knew.

“Damn. Whenever I think about studying, my head starts to hurt. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

“Your evaluation was sloppy, like I said, but I also think you’re correct…” Given her drooped shoulders and sigh, she must have been going through a lot herself.

“Back to the topic,” he said. “Why we don’t have Kanzaki’s help, right? Aren’t Kanzaki and Amakusa both part of the English Puritan Church? She’d do it if they asked her, wouldn’t she?”

“Well…Hmm. She is there, certainly, but saints are like nuclear weapons. I don’t think they can have her act outside of England very easily. And she has a history with Amakusa, so we can’t easily ask for her help…It’s still a delicate problem and all, so…”

As they spoke, they stepped onto the iron bridge. It was about fifty meters long. Not too big as far as bridges went, but considering the entire river was man-made, it was kind of a moving sight on its own. Its base color, lit up by lights, was blue, as though it were part of the illumination here.

“(…I know I shouldn’t let up my caution, but it’s just the two of us, and wow…),” she whispered to herself.

“What’s wrong, Itsuwa?”

“N-nothing’s wrong!! Nothing at all!! Nothing at all is wrong!” She waved her hand in front of her face back and forth at lightspeed. “U-um, well, I was just thinking there don’t seem to be many people around. I didn’t mean anything by ‘just the two of us,’ and it’s just that it’s very prettily decorated, so it feels like a, um, waste, and…”

Kamijou wondered to himself as they went down the bridge’s pedestrian lane. Why had she been talking so fast and giving all those fake smiles this whole time?

“Well,” he said, “it all depends on the time of day, right? This is what Academy City is like at night. They make the last trains and buses early on purpose, to make it harder to go out at night. I mean, people who want to will anyway, but still.”

Despite what he said, a moment later, he felt something was wrong.

The current time was past ten PM. Indeed, major public transport would have been fast asleep by now. It wasn’t unusual for the traffic on the roads to change depending on the time—by itself. Especially since 80 percent of the residents in Academy City were students.

However…

A little past ten meant all the night prowlers would be out and about like normal.

Not…good…?!

The landscape was unnaturally empty. Kamijou felt a strange chill come over him and went to call out to Itsuwa about the danger.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t have the time.

“I gave you a warning.”

He heard a voice.

From in front of him. The lights on the bridge, blue, symbolizing a certain man: Beyond their halo, in the darkness, came the rough voice of a man.

“You had several options before you.”

He heard footsteps.

But they weren’t the steps a normal human would make. With every step he took, a dull znn rippled along the bridge. A glimpse of overwhelming power. A countdown to death, now distinct. The strange footfalls closing in on them from the blue darkness presented an unfairness that went far beyond brute force.

Itsuwa, faced with the abnormality, was stunned. Her face should have been tenser, thought Kamijou—before immediately wondering what had happened to their connection with the main Amakusa team. Hadn’t they been trailing Itsuwa and him from out of sight?

“If you accepted my warning, ruminated on it, and decided it worth entrusting them with your life, then I will, of course, face you head-on.”

He smirked.

“But I’ll be honest. Was there no better option than this?”

The darkness wiped away.

The only light sources were the dim lamps on the bridge. They hadn’t put in lights strong enough to drive back the night. But the man merely stepped toward them from the dimness. That was all he did—and yet it felt as though the darkness had opened up like a curtain to let the man through, then withdrawn.

Brown hair and features like a stone statue. His clothing closely resembled blue golf wear. He looked physically strong but not in a healthy way. His was the body of a blood-soaked soldier.

“You’re…”

Kamijou had seen him before. Once—on September 30, in Academy City—he had met this man. This large man, who had swiped Vento of the Front away after Kamijou had just barely defeated her using his Imagine Breaker.

“Acqua of the Back. I believe I’ve already introduced myself.”

God’s Right Seat.

And at the same time, one possessing the qualities of a saint.

“Just like you announced you would…”

“I feel no need for intricate plans,” said Acqua simply. “I’ve only come to eliminate the source of the disturbances throughout the world.”

You’re one to talk, thought Kamijou. Vento of the Front had disabled Academy City’s functions. Terra of the Left had thrown the world into chaos. Whatever reasons they might have had, God’s Right Seat had no right to tell him he was the origin of any disturbances.

“You’re not here for talk. You want to kill me right off the bat, don’t you?”

“Hmph. Perhaps I was too impetuous.”

Irritated, Acqua cast a glance at Kamijou, looking him up and down. “My desire is to sever the origin of these disturbances.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You will not pretend you don’t know.”

“If anyone caused this, it was you!! You’re not going to tell me you forgot what you did at Avignon!!”

“But even that was originally based on our goal of defeating dangerous elements—you, Touma Kamijou, and Academy City.”

They weren’t getting anywhere, but Acqua didn’t even grow angry.

That meant he hadn’t been listening to Kamijou to begin with.

“The root of all lies in your idiosyncrasy, starting with a certain part of your body. I don’t need to take your life—so hold out your right arm. If I sever that now, I will spare your life, at least.”

The offer didn’t deserve an answer. Acqua knew Kamijou would refuse it.

“What about the rest of Amakusa…?” said Itsuwa suddenly, finally speaking. It must have been some sort of sign; Itsuwa glanced around.

“Futile,” said Acqua, his one word cutting her hopes down.

“What have you done to them?” she asked.

“I haven’t killed them,” he answered simply. “They’re not the ones I need to defeat.”

As he spoke, he slowly swayed.

They were ten meters or so apart. As far as Kamijou could tell from watching him, he had nothing like a weapon, and it didn’t seem like any were hidden in his clothes. The golf outfit was stretched around his muscles, not giving him any space to stow something inside it.

Nevertheless, Kamijou and Itsuwa focused their minds entirely on him, watching for even the slightest move of a fingertip. Avoiding conflict was an impossibility. Because they were fully aware of that fact, they wouldn’t move recklessly and would instead try to gauge the best time to charge in.

However…

From the side.

“?!”

Before Kamijou could even gasp, Acqua had already jumped right next to Itsuwa. He’d disappeared. That was how quickly he’d closed in on her, now deep within striking range. He released an elbow, aiming to deliver a blow to the side of her cheek.

Kamijou didn’t hear a noise. But he did just barely make out her body flying over the sidewalk and into the car-less road. He still hadn’t taken a breath. Nevertheless, using the air still in his lungs, he reflexively cried out, “Itsuwa?!”

Acqua’s voice cut him off. “This isn’t the time to worry about others.”

Soon, there came a roar.

The source was the shadow extending from Acqua’s feet. Like a giant orca leaping from the water’s surface, an immense hunk of metal shot out of it. The weapon was over five meters long and resembled the lance a knight would use on horseback.

And yet, it was far different.

The object was put together like a parasol, the framework using iron girders from a building.

It was a metal mace for bludgeoning to death.

“Here I come, my target.”

“Urgh!!”

Before Kamijou could prepare himself, Acqua’s muscles bulged explosively.

It was no less than a miracle he didn’t die. Itsuwa’s bag came flying in from out of sight and slammed into him, pushing him in a direction Acqua hadn’t predicted.

The five-meter iron ingot, having lost its target, easily tore Itsuwa’s airborne bag and stabbed it into the ground like a guillotine.

The bridge was, supposedly, made of asphalt.

But with one heavy thud, it rattled. Bolts holding fast to the metal framework began to rupture, making ominous noises. Several of the pale blue lights used for illuminating the bridge went out unnaturally. Kamijou, however, didn’t have the time to pay attention to those things. Like a meteorite colliding with the ocean’s surface, a barrage of asphalt fragments scattered with Acqua’s mace at its center, and some of them had hit Kamijou directly.

“Gaahhhhhhhhh!!”

Just the aftermath made it impossible for him to keep his footing. By the time he felt his feet floating off the ground, he’d already rolled several meters. His back slammed into one of the bridge’s support pipes, and only then did he stop.

Clattering.

Fine asphalt shards pouring down like a torrent.

Acqua hefted his mace up to his shoulder—it looked like a bundle of metal beams—and took a step toward Kamijou where he lay.

The dust coiled around Acqua, as though it were his fighting spirit made visible, and blew about.

Then, with only his eyes, he looked to the side.

Itsuwa had staggered to her feet. She had put together her Friulian spear, which could be taken apart to store in a bag—she’d probably taken it out before throwing the tote—and had its cross-shaped tip pointed at Acqua.

But she’d taken considerable damage from the first attack. A trickle of red blood dripped from her lips, and her cheeks had reddened. Her aim wavered more unreliably than a fishing pole in the wind.

Acqua didn’t even laugh. He just spoke. “The lot of you together couldn’t stand up to me. Did you think just one could challenge me and win?”

“…I…still have my pride.”

How much emotion, how much determination must have been behind those few words?

In response, Acqua simply responded, “I see.”

That was all.

Shit…!! Kamijou tried to force his pained body to move, to get between Itsuwa and Acqua. But he couldn’t move the way he wanted. And in the meantime, Itsuwa and Acqua clashed at short range.

Itsuwa moved quickly—but Acqua had already vanished. The next thing he knew, the side of Acqua’s metal pipe mace was buried in Itsuwa’s side. Acqua continued turning himself, using centrifugal force to swipe the mace, with Itsuwa on it, in a horizontal arc at Kamijou.

His brain didn’t even have time to consider reacting.

The original weight of the heavy metal mace added to an entire person’s body weight was more than enough to hold Kamijou down, resting against a metal beam as he was. It forced all the air from his lungs. He tasted metal. For a few seconds, his stricken body left the ground. A moment later, the damage hit him so hard it felt like the earth’s gravity had been multiplied, and he crumpled to the ground.

Itsuwa, lying on top of him, didn’t move. He couldn’t even get the limp girl off him.

As his consciousness hazed, he managed to make out Acqua of the Back as he descended upon them.

He’s…too far beyond…

Vento of the Front and Terra of the Left—their movements had at least been visible. He could slip past their attacks and counter, even damaging them in return.

But…what in the world is this guy?

Acqua of the Back.

Was he really a human like Kamijou?

This wasn’t a difference between two people. It felt like going up against an MMORPG character over a hundred levels higher than you. It wasn’t that he was using some cheat to prevent attacks from working. His abilities were just so much greater that it wasn’t even a fight. How was he supposed to beat him?

“Your right arm,” said Acqua, slowly lifting his mace overhead. “If you offer it, I will spare your life.”

“Screw…you…”

He tried to get up, but he had no energy. More and more, he was realizing his limits, but he didn’t give up, still trying to muster every ounce of strength.

But…

“I see,” said Acqua. “In that case, I’ll give you another taste of reality.”

12

Urgh…

Itsuwa had passed out for just a moment.

The first thing she noticed as her consciousness seeped back into her was the stench of metal. Next was the pain. Immediately after sensing the pain in the core of her head, a wave of agony washed over her like a tsunami. Surprisingly, her vision and hearing, normally her most reliable tools, lagged behind the most.

Faintly lit darkness.

Blue despair burying her.

Several nearby metal beams were split apart, the asphalt was shattered, and sand flew about the bridge.

A tragic scene—the nightscape she and Kamijou had just been walking through, now torn asunder.

And the feeling of a spear grip in her hand.

“?!”

Finally remembering what had happened, Itsuwa hastily tried to push herself off the ground.

Then her palm touched something slimy.

It was warm and stunk of iron enough to make her head spin. Most of all, it was colored a deep red. The fluid had a simple identity.

Fresh blood.

But Itsuwa hadn’t shed this much. Actually, if she had, she probably wouldn’t have been conscious right now. It wasn’t ink, or any other liquid, either. It was doubtlessly human blood.

Whose blood was it, then? Her mind immediately tried to reject it.

She barely needed to think.

It was Touma Kamijou.

“Awake, are you?”

Thinking calmly, Itsuwa determined Acqua of the Back, weapon in hand, should have still been standing right in front of them.

“If you are, then move. My attack will deliver far too much force. If I’m not careful about unleashing my full strength, it will cause collateral damage.”

But Itsuwa wasn’t thinking about him. Her shoulders trembled madly as she slowly, slowly turned around to look behind her.

To see what she’d been leaning against the entire time she was out.

Kamijou’s arms and legs, limp, without energy. His face was splattered with red. His eyes, neither fully open nor fully closed, were half-open, like a broken autofocus. The pain searing through him would have felt like he was being ripped apart. Despite that, he didn’t move a muscle.

Was he alive? Was he dead?

She didn’t even know that.

She was so close to him, but merely knowing whether he was alive or dead was out of her reach.

“Ah…ah…”

Her ability to make decisions shattered.

She’d forgotten entirely about Acqua of the Back, the immediate threat. Despite being in front of her enemy, she moved her hand soaked in the blood of another, clawed up the nearby scattered asphalt fragments, took out a hand towel, and removed the wallet from Kamijou’s blood-soaked pants pocket.

The Amakusa-Style Crossist Church didn’t use odd incantations or Soul Arms in their sorcery.

All they needed were common, ubiquitous life necessities.

Itsuwa rebuilt the occult vestiges hidden inside such items to try to cast healing magic that would stop the blood flowing out, close his wounds, and replenish his vitality. For the girl, the “problem” and the “battle” had focused to a single point: whether this boy lived or died.

In actuality, in spite of the chaos roiling within, her actions were surprisingly precise and swift.

She cast the healing spell in the blink of an eye.

Faint, dim orbs of light floated up from Kamijou’s limp, unmoving body. The green glow was reminiscent of fireflies. The lights squeezed into the gaps in his skin, burying themselves in the tears.

But…

Then she heard a bam!!

The healing magic she’d just built vanished without a trace, blown to smithereens.

The cause was clear.

“…Ah…”

With unsteady movements, she looked away from his face to the right hand hanging at his side.

His right hand.

The Imagine Breaker.

The unique power that nullified all unnatural phenomena, whether good or evil.

“U​w​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h!!”

Itsuwa screamed and rebuilt the once-destroyed healing spell. But it was futile. As soon as she cast it, the sorcery was broken—and again she built it, and again it was destroyed. Though she was using necessities you could find anywhere, if she kept wasting them like this, it wouldn’t be long before she ran out. The next thing she knew, there was nothing left to use for the spell.

“Finished?” called Acqua as Itsuwa continued her struggles.

But Itsuwa wasn’t able to give a real answer.

All she could do was keep screaming. Acqua didn’t say any more to her.

Wordlessly, he swung up his big leg, then buried it into Itsuwa’s curled back.

Crack!! came a roaring noise, and her screams stopped.

With the violent sound, the energy left her limbs. She’d been knocked out.

“Hmph.”

Without a glance for the crumpled Itsuwa, Acqua lifted his giant mace again.

His original job.

His target—the unconscious Kamijou’s right shoulder.

But he didn’t bring the mace down.

No, he hadn’t felt mercy.

No, it was Itsuwa—wounded all over, damage having accumulated to her very core, who should have been out cold—who slowly, unsteadily worked her hands, grabbed her spear, and shot up to her feet.

As though standing as a wall between him and Kamijou, curiously enough.

“Guh, ngah, o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​!!”

Her roar, which rattled his organs, was genuine mortal desperation. She didn’t care about her chances of victory anymore. One look at her bloodshot eyes, and he could easily guess she no longer had that luxury.

She couldn’t let him die.

She couldn’t let him be taken from her.

She needed to stand up.

But that was all—she simply moved.

As she coughed up a clump of blood, a tenacious light came to her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Acqua sighed tediously.

At the same time, the arm gripping his mace slowly expanded. His hand grasped its handle with terrible force of muscle, so tightly that even though it was made of steel, he might break it.

Acqua hadn’t acknowledged Itsuwa as an enemy.

He was simply about to crush both his obstacle and Kamijou to pieces in a single strike.

Itsuwa bit her lip.

She knew how carelessly he was treating her.

And she knew the difference in their strength was enough to call for such treatment.

“…”

Itsuwa stayed silent for a moment.

Not only did her mouth remain still—her mind was quiet. A curious blank in her heart, with nothing in it. Was it a sort of determination, or was it resignation? A moment later, when she regained all her thoughts, she turned her wobbling spear, pointing it clearly at Acqua.

It was nothing less than a declaration of war made by one about to meet her maker.

What little strength remained within her focused to a single point.

Suddenly, the silence broke, and the end came.

“Thank you, Itsuwa.”

However, Acqua’s strike was not what had shattered her will.

It was the weak hand of a certain boy laid upon her shoulder from behind.

Her slight body shivered at his few words.

She couldn’t turn around.

The hand on her shoulder had to be ripped up.

But the only thing Itsuwa saw in her mind was a gentle face.

“I feel a little better thanks to your healing spell.”

That was impossible. His Imagine Breaker destroyed all magic. Itsuwa’s healing spell couldn’t have had any effect.

The boy’s voice, too, was faint, as though wrung from his throat. His voice wavered unreliably, sounding like it could vanish at any moment.

Despite all that, those few words had a warmth to them.

She almost let herself collapse, but then she realized what the boy was thinking, and a chill ran down her spine.

Why had he stood up now?

Why did he force himself to stand up when even moving a finger was too hard?

And what did he have in mind by putting his hand on her shoulder to stop her right before leaping at Acqua of the Back?

“Wa—!!”

She didn’t have time to call out.

The boy put strength into the hand on her shoulder, then pushed her forward as though trading places with her. With her will already broken, her body, held up by mental force alone, fell limp.

“Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

He may have been an amateur when it came to battle, but he at least knew he couldn’t beat Acqua.

That wasn’t his goal.

Acqua of the Back said from the start that his only target was Kamijou. He said he hadn’t killed the main Amakusa team deployed nearby. If the battle reached a conclusion quickly, it would decrease casualties.

For example…

Itsuwa, directly next to him, wouldn’t have to die.

“…!!”

Itsuwa’s face distorted. All she could do was stare at his back. Clear liquid began to fall from her eyes. She shouted something, but Kamijou didn’t turn around. He remained facing forward and jumped straight toward Acqua.

“You have guts,” the man said simply.

And then, before her eyes, he unleashed a tremendous attack. He swung that giant mace, over five meters long and made of steel, horizontally, slamming mercilessly into the boy’s side. A roaring noise pierced her ears, one that you wouldn’t think came from a person. The boy, now caught between the mace and a metal bridge pillar, fell completely limp. He couldn’t even throw his fist, clenched with desperate determination, at Acqua.

He fell, this time perfectly unconscious, his body leaning over the giant mace. He looked like a futon hung out to dry. Acqua smiled.

As if to praise the defeated for his struggle.

“You have one day.”

With the unconscious boy still caught on his giant mace, he swung it slowly using one arm.

“To tear him apart now, without anesthesia, would be inhumane. Prepare him an artificial arm—or whatever you like. If he says he will give us that arm, that root cause of the disturbances, in that time, then I will spare his life.”

With that, Acqua heaved his mace with reckless ease, swinging it to the side.

A monstrous attack from one who was both God’s Right Seat and a saint.

The boy’s body, caught on the mace, flew away from the bridge with the speed of a cannonball. He passed over the railings, plunged several hundred meters straight away, collided with the dark, cold water’s surface, and then, instead of sinking, bounded back up. The incredible speed caused his body to skip off the surface again, then a third time, until he finally sunk underneath next to a cruiser, sending a bomblike blast of river water everywhere.

Splosh!! came the roaring noise a moment later.

Without checking to see if he was alive, Acqua of the Back turned away from Itsuwa.

And finally, he repeated this:

“You have one day.”

INTERLUDE ONE

What, can’t get to sleep?

Then let’s have a talk, grandpa to grandson. Hm? My stories are long and boring? Well then, they’ll put you to sleep, right?

Let’s see. Maybe I’ll tell you about the Astrologers’ Brigade.

Oh, right. Yeah, that’s what they used to call us. We still do the same thing, basically. That’s right. It’s like what you do, helping people any way you can. We’re technically a Crossist sorcerer’s society. We go out and listen to all kinds of people, then secretly use magic that helps the situation. That’s the kind of people we are.

But a long time ago, we had a lot more requests than we do now. I’m not lying! Everyone in the country relied on us. So many people would gather that we couldn’t keep them all in one place. Grandpa and the others had to take a nice, slow trip around all of Russia because of that.

Unfortunately…Well, trouble happens wherever you go.

Some troublesome people started watching us.

No, no, no, no. Just to be clear, not all Russian Catholics are bad people. It’s just that one idiot decided he’d take possession of an entire branch of the Russian Church. That’s how we ended up getting chased around by professional battle groups.

What was the idiot’s name?

What did they want to do after they captured your grandpa?

I can’t tell a brat like you something like that. Whatever way you slice it, we’re still talking about state secrets. It would be easy to say, but they won’t go easy on you, even if you’re a kid. Anyway, I can’t just go spouting it out wherever I want.

In any case, the people the Russian Catholics sent after us were very stubborn. It was a serious group of monsters made to fight things that weren’t human, like ghosts and fairies. We were only there as helpers, so we wouldn’t be able to fight them in a real battle. They were too much for us.

We decided to flee the country instead. The one fortunate thing was that they were Russian Catholics. That meant if we could get across Russia’s borders, we’d manage. Hope sure is an amazing thing. People will work as hard as they need to for a handful of straw.

But it was a terrible wasteland there. Negative fifty degrees. And dozens of kilometers to go to the border. Boy, was it tough! How do I put it—the way it felt was like a world away from pain. All we could feel was our feet growing heavy. We walked a very long time like that. Everyone walked equally—old people like your grandpa and rascals even smaller than you. And you were in your mommy’s belly at the time. That is probably why she’s strong as a bull.

What’s that? Wouldn’t the Russian Catholic people after us have had just as hard a time?

No. They were trained to move in eternal tundra like those. They were real professionals. The way they moved around was steady, like machines or puppets. Not only were they first-rate; their equipment was top-of-the-line stuff, too. They used horses made of metal. Eight-legged ones, if I remember. Ah, yes. A kind of Soul Arm—code-named Sleipnir, if I recall.

It was clear as day which of us was faster—us or the Russian Catholics.

We could just barely make out the Russian border through the blizzards. But we knew. We knew the Russian Catholic pursuers would catch us before we got there. Our hope was visible but unreachable. Their shadows were quickly getting closer, but we couldn’t do anything about it. Anyone would decide to give up then. It would have been easier to take a knee than to work hard for nothing, right? But we couldn’t do it. Once the border was before our eyes, we couldn’t even give up.

Hmm? What happened after that?

Well, we managed to get away, of course. If not, I wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t have been born. What part of it is bothering you?

Oh, I see, I see. You don’t know how we shook off the Russian Catholic Church’s very finest.

That one’s easy.

Someone appeared before us then.

Someone named William Orwell.