A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 16

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A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 16 Page 16

by Kazuma Kamachi


  Weird. I wonder what happened.

  Despite how she looked, Mikoto had just as much of a penchant for getting into other people’s trouble as that boy. She worried a little about what was going on with that, too.

  “Nyo-wah?!”

  Suddenly, there came a crackling of static electricity from her bangs.

  Her ability didn’t have minor random misfires very often, so she quickly sent a polite smile to the surprised man in front of her, bowed, and left the place for the moment.

  Maybe it was specific to Academy City, not being able to control your own ability, but it was surprisingly embarrassing in its own right. Still, this led her to stop wanting to stick her nose into wherever the trouble was.

  If she had been familiar with sorcery, she might have realized the misfire was due to an Opila ward, which affected a person’s senses and awareness, clashing with her own ability-controlling methods.

  What on earth could that have been? she wondered. For now, she wouldn’t be able to get back to the surface until the gate’s malfunctions were fixed, so she looked at a sign with a map of District 22, then decided to make a visit to a rather high-class hotel on the seventh stratum.

  I hope I can check into a room without any advance notice…And our R.A. is going to be low-key scary. Maybe I should call Kuroko and have her come here and get me out with her teleportation.

  Meanwhile, she descended the spiraling, downward slope to the seventh stratum.

  And then it happened.

  A figure suddenly appeared before her in the darkness, moving as if floating. At the very least, they clearly weren’t walking normally; their motions were less unreliable than unstable. She frowned. A maniac? But when the figure stepped under a streetlight, surprise washed over her face.

  It was Touma Kamijou.

  “What…What the heck are you doing?!” she called, rushing over to him.

  Normally, she wouldn’t have reacted like this. She knew the boy wandered around the streets at night on a daily basis, and they always seemed to run into each other one way or another. Maybe they’d fought sometimes, but she was seldom ever worried.

  But right now, Mikoto faced a situation that forced her to divert from her usual behavioral patterns.

  Touma Kamijou was clearly not well.

  His face was pale, as though he’d been soaking in a sea of ice. The bandages wrapped all over him were coming off in certain places, probably due to the movement, and there was even redness seeping through in a few spots. His clothing was odd, too. It wasn’t the familiar school uniform—all he wore was what looked like an operating gown for a surgical patient.

  “Misaka…Is that you…?” groaned Kamijou, leaning against the lamppost, barely managing to hold himself up. There were electrodes taped to his cheeks and arm, with their cord ends hanging down to the ground, as though he’d ripped himself free.

  Mikoto was shocked.

  She had to look closely, but his left and right pupils were dilating slightly differently. They weren’t completely focused. He was probably seeing everything in a blur, like through frosted glass.

  From his expression, though, he didn’t seem to realize it. Or maybe he was in such a fix that he couldn’t afford to pay attention to such a trifle.

  “…”

  Kamijou’s lips moved, but Mikoto couldn’t make out what he’d said. He merely released the lamppost from his hand, motions slow, and began to move again. As he went to pass by her, his knees gave out.

  She almost heard the pop as he nearly collapsed to the ground. Mikoto hastily moved to support him.

  “You idiot!! Where did all those wounds come from? And are those electrode cords attached to you…? Don’t tell me you broke out of some hospital or other, did you?!”

  “I…have to go…” With them so close now, she finally heard his voice. “They’re probably…still fighting. I…have to join them…”

  Just those few sparse words made Mikoto’s entire body shiver.

  She’d guessed, one way or another, that this boy had been involved in several incidents Mikoto was unaware of. But she’d thought they were just simple extensions of street fights. Once before, she’d witnessed him fighting Academy City’s strongest Level Five, but she considered that a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Who would have imagined him going through so many incidents that placed him on the verge of death?

  At the same time, it made sense to part of her.

  A single word crossed her mind.

  …Amnesia.

  If he kept on fighting like this, whittling away his own life every time, his body wouldn’t be in perfect shape. Mikoto didn’t know whether his amnesia was caused by mental trauma or a problem with his brain’s construction. But unfortunately, she considered both of those possible. That was how badly his body was beaten up right now.

  She had to stop him.

  Stop him from dragging himself out here, looking like he was about to die; stop him from standing up to all these crisis situations, even after he’d lost his memories.

  “…?” Kamijou stared at Mikoto in confusion. She wasn’t letting go of his arm. He seemed to have no idea why she was just standing there. He’d been keeping everything that would make others worry a secret, so he thought it was impossible anyone would reach out to him. He honestly believed that it was just too convenient for someone to realize the trouble he was in and come to help him, even if he kept quiet.

  That little thing made her angry.

  Truly angry.

  “Why…didn’t you say anything?” Before she knew it, she was murmuring. She understood that she’d never be able to go back now, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Say you need help! Say you need someone else! No, it doesn’t even have to be that specific. Be even simpler!! Just say, for once in your life, that you’re scared or uneasy about something!!”

  “Misaka…what…are you…?”

  “I know all about it.”

  Kamijou continued, even now, putting on an act in order to deceive her—no, to keep her from getting involved. She ignored it.

  “I know you have amnesia!!”

  That moment, Kamijou’s shoulders twitched.

  She thought she saw a wavering in him, a big one—one that greatly affected his life.

  Mikoto herself felt a shock as she looked at him, standing there at a loss.

  But so what?

  Once before, this boy had literally saved her life. Not only her, either—all ten-thousand-odd of those girls she’d wanted to protect, too.

  She’d been about to face Academy City’s strongest Level Five when Touma Kamijou had appeared. And he’d done it in a way that’d stomped all over her innermost thoughts—of trying to carry everything herself until she died.

  His method certainly didn’t have a shard of delicacy, and it was even a greedy, swinish approach, considering how it invaded her privacy like that. But for Mikoto Misaka and her Sisters, it had still saved them.

  She wouldn’t allow Touma Kamijou to deny that way of doing things.

  It should be fine if this boy was saved like that, too.

  So Mikoto spoke:

  “I get that there’s something really important going on inside you. But do you absolutely have to carry it all yourself? You’re half-dead, and you’re missing memories! What reason could you possibly have for fighting alone?!”

  Kamijou was listening. Mikoto took his silence as a positive and kept going.

  “I can fight, too, you know.”

  She kept going—to fight him squarely and to tell him exactly what she needed to. Everything she couldn’t say until now flowed out of her.

  “I can help you, too!!”

  That wasn’t because she was Academy City’s third-ranked Level Five, the Railgun. That was insignificant compared to this. Even if she’d lost all her power right that moment and become a Level Zero, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d be able to say the same.

  “There’s no reason you have to keep fighting by yourself!! So say
something. Say where you’re going, or who you’re trying to fight, or something!! Today, I’ll fight. I’ll make things better for you this time!!”

  “Mi…saka…”

  “I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine! I’ll show you how the people who wait for you feel! I’ll show you how the people who can’t do anything but sleep in a hospital bed and watch from a safe place feel!! That’s exactly what you did when you saved the Sisters, wasn’t it?! You made me talk to you, and then you went out to face the city’s strongest Level Five on your own!! Why don’t you apply your logic to yourself once in a while? Why are you the one not asking for anyone’s help?!”

  As she shouted, she stared directly at Kamijou.

  And what she saw there was amazement.

  But it was not amazement at how she was talking about things she shouldn’t have known. It was the surprise of seeing something he’d kept hidden being forcefully revealed in front of him.

  He remembered Accelerator and the Sisters.

  On the one hand, she felt relieved. On the other, she hated her own selfishness, for letting such calculated emotion into the picture. She was supposed to be worrying over Kamijou’s physical condition right now, not placating her own unease.

  Kamijou didn’t notice. Or maybe he did, but he let it pass.

  “A-anyway, we’re going back to the hospital! You won’t listen to sense, so I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re back in your room!!” Still grabbing his arm, she called up her map on her cell phone and searched for hospitals.

  “…I see…”

  For a few moments, Kamijou was flabbergasted, but eventually, he began to slowly move his lips.

  It almost looked like a smile.

  “You found out…”

  Although about ready to collapse, an odd strength returned to him. Mikoto decided that meant he was in the most dangerous state possible, so she didn’t let go of his arm.

  “But that’s not it,” he said before Mikoto could get a word in. “I have no memory, so I don’t remember the details, but…”

  Kamijou’s spirit wasn’t broken.

  “I can’t remember myself from before. I can’t even imagine what I felt like at the end. But getting beaten up, fighting until even my memories were gone…Not having a reason to keep getting hurt on my own…”

  His amnesia had been revealed. That alone should have been a major event. But his true thoughts were somewhere else.

  “I think that was probably why I risked my life to the point of losing my memories—so I could say stuff like that.”

  Mikoto’s face froze.

  That was the conclusion that lay at the center of Touma Kamijou’s mind.

  That was why he’d kept the truth of his lost memories a secret—he didn’t want to hurt anyone by blaming them or saying something stupid about it.

  About a past that he couldn’t even remember anymore.

  But even then, he had been willing to get hurt to protect something important to him. And he’d actually done it—and this was the result. Not an idealized suicidal wish that would bring tears to your eyes; he’d simply been prepared for the end, for what happened after he did what he needed to do, and he’d pressed on anyway. And this was the result.

  “I can’t remember what happened a long time ago, but even if I can’t, it’s thanks to all of it that I’m here now. Whoever I was before, he’s moving me now. He’s still here—not in my head but in my heart. Even if I don’t remember, he knows exactly what I’m trying to accomplish and what I need to do.”

  Touma Kamijou probably had pride in that, a “something” not even he had any proof existed. His conviction wouldn’t allow him regret. If he could have met his past self now, he’d have smiled and said thank you without a moment’s hesitation. This boy believed in his fate completely.

  “Sorry, Misaka. You should get back soon.”

  The next thing she knew, her hand had left him. With a strange strength, he had moved his arm away from it.

  “I’m going. I can’t leave this to someone else. There’s nothing forcing me to do it, but…I’m still going. That part will never change. Even if the gears hadn’t locked up and I hadn’t lost my memories, I’d still need to do the same thing. Touma Kamijou won’t let a lack of memories stop him from that.”

  The boy turned his back to Mikoto and started walking again.

  His gait was unsteady; if she’d wanted to go after him, it would have been easy.

  What should I do…?

  But she couldn’t move.

  His back was right in front of her. If she reached out, she could touch him.

  I didn’t say anything wrong. He needs to go back to the hospital right now. And I could always go with him to the battlefield…But I know he’s not lying. Him standing here, now, like this, on his own feet, must have a special meaning for him.

  As she thought, Kamijou moved.

  As she worried, he walked away.

  But I can’t stop him after that. How could I? Seeing him off now is the right choice. Putting my hands together, praying to God, and hoping he comes home safe is the best option. Any other choice, no matter what it is, would be too much. I know he doesn’t want that…

  His unsteady back grew distant. She had no time left.

  She knew she needed to stop him, but she just couldn’t move.

  What should I do? I can’t agree with this at all.

  Touma Kamijou probably hadn’t lied about anything he’d said. He’d simply revealed his true intentions, still determined to fight merely because he wanted to.

  Logically speaking, she should respect that decision and watch over him.

  She knew that. Even an idiot would know that.

  But she couldn’t agree.

  She just couldn’t.

  …I…see.

  Without knowing it, her hand had crept up to her chest.

  Mikoto Misaka had realized something.

  She had an opinion at her core—one not related to logic, reason, reputation, appearances, shame, or scandal. That was at the very heart of who she was. She was wretched, ugly, selfish, and whining—but she realized it made her a thoroughly honest, open human.

  She didn’t know what this emotion was called.

  She didn’t yet understand how to categorize it.

  But today, on this day, at this hour, at this moment…

  …she understood a certain thing.

  She knew there was an immense emotion sleeping inside her, one strong enough to easily ruin outward appearances. As one of only seven Level Fives in the city, she was fully used to controlling her own mind in the form of her personal reality. But this emotion could easily shatter all that.

  Touma Kamijou’s back disappeared into the dark.

  The end had come, and she couldn’t stop him.

  It wasn’t because his movements had touched her.

  It was this glimpse of an emotion she’d accidentally found inside herself, not letting her move a finger.

  2

  Acqua of the Back’s mace rumbled.

  Not from a special spell or Soul Arm. It was pure physical strength. The difference between Kanzaki, who used her special spell Single Glint for a temporary boost in power, and Acqua, who kept running at sky-high full power, suddenly widened—and then came to its limit.

  There was a thundering thump!!

  Kaori Kanzaki, along with the Seven Heavens Sword she’d used to parry the mace, went flying.

  “Gaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?!”

  Kanzaki, whose fight was crushing the heap of rubble under her feet, shot almost a hundred meters through the air. It was like her body had become a cannonball—she blew through one piece of debris after another, crushed concrete chunks to pieces, and scattered their dust all about.

  “Over already, saint of the Far East?”

  Disappointment filled Acqua’s voice.

  But Kanzaki, stopped under a mountain of debris, didn’t have enough strength to reply. The strength in he
r bloody body was half what she’d started with, maybe less.

  There…must be…

  There were no tricks or traps. It was a fundamental difference in skill. So what way could she find to stop him?

  What is…his power…?

  As she hacked up another clot of blood, she came to a question.

  She understood something, as someone who could output the full power of a saint via her Single Glint. Being a saint meant you were already beyond physical human limitations. From the start, that spell had been an instant-kill sword-drawing technique—because if she used it any differently, it could lead to destruction of her own body.

  Acqua was past all that.

  That was why this difference between them had formed.

  There’s nothing…extra…in Single Glint’s composition…

  Her spell didn’t just increase momentum. It was built to push a human body to the limit but not destroy their muscles. It was built to move at extreme speeds but not at the cost of balance. All of it was built like a delicate jigsaw puzzle—a pure crystallization of technique. If she demanded more, if she tried to add more pieces to the puzzle, the spell’s entire balance would fall apart. You can’t add extra pieces to a jigsaw puzzle that is already complete.

  This was the limitation of a saint mainly fighting in close quarters.

  Did that mean Acqua had created a spell to control his physical body that was more polished than that?

  Kanzaki had tried several hypotheses, but they’d all failed.

  Every time, if she pushed her abilities in one area, it exhausted another part of herself too much. The moment she came out with abilities on Acqua’s level, her body would break apart like a damaged airplane. Both physically and magically.

  But Acqua…His power…

  To begin with, a saint couldn’t even exhibit 100 percent of the power they were given.

  It was said being born with similar physical characteristics to the Son of God allowed them to graciously acquire a fraction of his strength. But even a fraction was something a regular human couldn’t fully grasp.

  They could only control an even tinier part of that fraction.

  That was how saints were.

  No matter how one put together a spell, something would always be too much. In blunt terms, all that power you were given would dissipate. Unlike the power entering your body because of idol worship theory, you could only control so much of it with your own will.

 

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