//------------------------------// // Send out the invitations - laugh_and_cry // Story: A Certain Magical Friendship - MIRROR_NOISE // by Sora2455 //------------------------------// -Ding, dong- That was the sound that hundreds of students had been waiting for all day. It was the joyous sound that heralded days of unparalleled fun and freedom. It signalled an end to the oppressive system of indoctrination and unpaid labour. (In their minds, at least.) In other words, it was the bell that signalled the end of the school year. The day had started off with a disastrous phenomenon from well outside normal understanding, so you would have been forgiven if you had thought that school would have been cancelled for the day. Unfortunately, the grown-ups that ran the city had decided that the best way to keep order would be to impose normal routine over the day. As everyone went through the motions of normalcy, their thoughts were guided onto their usual, everyday paths. It also gave time for various stories to spring up, each one attempting to explain the global ‘blackout’. They ranged from undetected meteors causing an impromptu eclipse to an experimental countermeasure against solar flares. For the first time in her life, Saten was in the unusual position of knowing the true source of the rumours that flooded the message boards. Her fingers itched to type out the true explanation, and tell the world exactly what had happened. But… If I do that… would anybody believe me? And more importantly… what would happen if they did? Somehow, Saten knew, one lady had caused the sun to fail to shine one morning. One miserable, pathetic human being had stretched our her hand and snapped her fingers, and the unfathomable power of the sun had abruptly been extinguished. That was not the sort of thing you went to school the next day and forgot about. Saten, like all the students in Academy City, dreamed of one day being a powerful Esper. Earlier this week, she’d gotten the chance to meet one of her idols, the #3 Railgun who had worked her way from Level 1 to Level 5. Saten had scoured the internet, searching for something – for someone to tell her what she was doing wrong, why all her efforts hadn’t raised her Level above 0. Now though, the day of attendance at school had given time for the idea to take root that even if she found the mysterious Level Upper, that she would forever remember that snap of the fingers with a chill down her spine. Such melancholic thoughts followed Saten out of her classroom and down to the front gate. There, she stopped and stared. Standing just outside the front gate, there was a girl who would best be described as ‘pink’. Pink hair, pink wristbands, pink jacket. She stood out from the crowd so much that she seemed almost unreal, like finding a four leaf clover in a desert. Pinkie Pie said, tapping her foot. Saten managed. Saten switched languages. “Par-tay?” For some reason, Pinkie seemed to insist on speaking in her nonsense Japanese. Admittedly, Saten’s English was only just above the ‘pass’ level expected of a first year middle school student, but now they were down to pantomiming. Saten tried again, moving her hands like she was pulling the string on an invisible popper. Pinkie smiled. Saten sighed. A few of the other Tokiwadai girls stopped to listen and stare at the public spectacle, but the throbbing vein on Misaka’s forehead convinced them to move on whenever her glare shifted to them. Misaka roughly pulled Kuroko to her feet. Misaka realised this was the wrong thing to say immediately, but Kuroko had already doubled the volume of tears and snot running down her face. Misaka wanted to groan (or better yet, roll her eyes), but first she had to calm down her overemotional roommate. -sob- Misaka paused, putting a finger on her chin. An aura of gloom had settled over Kuroko as she curled up into the fetal position. Misaka pressed a hand into her face and sighed. She was saved from having to try and salvage the conversation from the ringing of her phone. Misaka gave out more death glares until the next wave of passers-by moved on, and answered her phone with a tense . The person on the other end of the line was taken aback by her tone. Misaka looked down at Kuroko, who had started chanting ‘I hurt Sissy’ to herself quietly. Misaka turned around and cupped her hand around the phone. Misaka blinked, running the idea through her head. She put a hand over her phone’s receiver. For the moment, the light of intelligent thought re-entered Kuroko’s eyes. Kuroko’s pigtails stuck straight up in the air like she had just been electrocuted. In the span of an eye-blink, she was no longer kneeling, but now stood ramrod-straight directly in front of Misaka. Misaka felt a chill down her spine. With great dread, Misaka raised her phone back up to her mouth. <…are you sure you’re okay?> Touma Kamijou’s face was down as he walked down the street. With school out, he really should have been skipping down the road, jumping for joy, but his late arrival at school today had upset his suspiciously young-looking homeroom teacher. Rather than give him detention, like a normal teacher, Ms Komoe had instead tearfully wondered if she was trying hard enough as a teacher. Seeing that sorrow-stricken face had made his classmates give him death-glares all day. It had gotten so bad that Touma was worried they were going to jump him on his way home and beat him up. Just his luck. On his way home he had been struck by the impulse to go out and spurge a little at a restaurant, but the prospect of a second mouth to feed had sucked that impulse down of him. Instead, he had stopped by a supermarket and stocked up on pretty much everything that was on sale… which wasn’t much. Touma sighed, but hefted his shopping bag behind his back and started climbing up the stairs to his apartment. The building hadn’t been on fire when he got back, so that was a plus. Wait. His wall still had a giant hole knocked in it. Drat. Knowing my luck, it’ll pour with rain tonight. Touma thought sourly. Academy City’s giant supercomputer, Tree Diagram, could predict weather down to the second, but Touma felt that even if it predicted clear skies a lone storm cloud would appear just to drench his apartment. He called out, feeling slightly foolish for doing so. Still, he’d given Index his keys, and his spare was inside the room. If it turned out she hadn’t taken up his offer, he was going to have to try to climb in the hole in the wall, suspended as it was over a sheer drop. To his pleasant surprise, however, the door opened, revealing Index behind it. <…um, welcome home?> Touma looked the nun up and down, narrowing his eyes and rubbing his chin. <…what?> Index squirmed under his gaze. It was a bit of a struggle, but Touma managed to make it past the threshold. His apartment was small – it consisted of just a bedroom/living area with a tiny kitchen attached and a bathroom. It wasn’t really built to entertain guests, and there was a definite sense of snugness as two people and a kitten manoeuvred around each other. Touma moved into the kitchen and dropped his cargo down on the bench. Index walked in after him, her eyes flickering between his face and the bags of food. The apartment became very quiet as Touma put the food away, the atmosphere only broken up by the pained winces Touma gave as he saw how much of his food Index had eaten while he was away. Neither of them really knew what to say to each other. Touma didn’t regret offering Index a place to stay, he just… didn’t know where to go from here. Did she have some goal she could reach once she had time to plan it out? Or if nothing changed, would she really be content with sleeping in a random boy’s apartment forever? Index was just as uncertain. She had been planing to take advantage of a sanctuary, but in a church. Index knew how churches worked. When they extended out their hand to their needy, they did so because their divine lord had instructed them to do so. But a look though Touma’s apartment made Index quite sure that Touma wasn’t religious, so there was no way to be sure how long his charity would hold out for. Even if his hand had shown her nothing but kindness so far (and for some reason, the bruise on her face throbbed as she thought that), there was no guarantee that she could depend on him forever. Touma had almost finished unpacking the groceries when the kitten walked in and sat down next to Index’s robes, looking up and meowing as if to say Well somebody say something! Touma started hesitantly. Index spun around, showing off her sparkling white-and-gold habit. It had gotten soaked on blood during the incident of the previous night, but didn’t show any traces of that anymore. Touma scratched his head. Index continued. Index frowned. Index scowled. Touma finished packing food into cupboards, and turned to face Index. Index corrected, as though she was disputing what colour they had been wearing. Touma felt a little out of his depth. Index was speaking in square boxes, but his mind only had round holes to put them in. The deliberate calm in Index’s voice told Touma he was skating on thin ice. He asked, hoping to move on from what was apparently a blunder. He stumbled around the foreign word. Index finished for him. -Knock, knock, knock- All three heads, human and cat, turned to stare at the door. Touma and Index then shared a look. -Knock, knock, knock- Came a girl’s voice, speaking in slightly muffled voice. Touma found himself getting uneasy. That did not sound like Tsuchimikado or his sister, who were the only two people who would normally come calling. Even worse, he thought he did know that voice. Touma carefully stepped around Index to head towards the door. For her part, Index grabbed a frying pan and held it threateningly, which did nothing to ease Touma’s nerves. Touma bent down to stare though his keyhole. He saw tea-coloured hair. Misaka murmured to herself, impatiently knocking again. She felt slightly foolish, standing outside a boy’s dorm room knocking on the door, but the first person to poke fun at her was taking a 5,000 volt penalty for doing so. She asked the door rhetorically. Sighing, she held her hand up to the lock. Sparks jumped between her fingers as she used magnetism to slide the lock into the ‘open’ position. Opening the door and striding inside, Misaka continued to grumble to herself. Misaka blinked. Halfway out the hole in his wall, bed-sheets tied together into a makeshift rope, Touma sweated. Misaka continued to stare, her eyelids rapidly opening and closing as though she could blink away the ridiculousness of the scene. Touma said, somewhat pathetically. <…what are you doing?> His cunning plan of escape foiled, Touma began to climb back into the room. A third voice drifted in from behind and below Touma. Touma twisted around so that his head was looking down his makeshift rope. After a few more rounds of shouting, Touma and Index were back inside the apartment. Now present in the same room, Index and Misaka stared at each other. Index, who couldn’t remember anything from the time she was ‘talking in her sleep’, only recognised her as the girl who had chased after Touma flinging lightning bolts at him. Misaka, on the other hand, remembered that incident just fine, and she stared down sharply at the girl who had outright ignored all her attacks. She’d been hampered by the Nightmare Forces, but still! Both girls raised a hand to point at each other. Touma moved his hands in a calming gesture. Touma blinked, totally stupefied. Touma normally remembered incidents like that one through a new collection of injuries, so the notion of celebrating together with friends afterwards was new to him. A curious warm feeling spread though him, but his natural pessimism warred against it. He turned around at this point to face Index, and discovered that she had started drooling. She said, sparkles in her eyes. Touma turned back around. With six out of eight targets acquired (nobody seemed to know where the smoking boy and the sword girl were), Pinkie was ready to return home. There was just one last hurdle. Uiharu fretted, trying to think of how to say this politely. She was already confused, having been dragged from her apartment straight here with only the short explanation of ‘a party’. Kuroko didn’t bother being polite. She said bluntly. She was already in a foul mood, having arrived to find that others would be joining her and Misaka in this outing. Kuroko switched languages. “I speak English just fine, so –” Pinkie insisted. Index said, as she, Touma and Misaka walked onto the scene. Kuroko turned around, her face dripping with exasperation. Whatever she would have said, however, died on her lips as she properly noticed Index. She asked, honest confusion overriding her manners. Index said with a completely straight face. Touma swiftly clamped his hand over Index’s mouth. He let out a laugh that didn’t fool anyone. Kuroko said, completely unconvinced. Misaka waved away Kuroko’s concerns. Kuroko eyed her roommate suspiciously. <…no.> As an argument started to break out, Saten gave Uiharu an awkward smile. Uiharu carefully leaned over the edge. The sun hadn’t been directly overhead for hours now, but Uiharu was sure that even with the lighting she had that she should have been able to see the bottom. She couldn’t. Saten reassured her. Uiharu had many, many questions, but for now she’d settle for: She couldn’t see any way to climb down this thing – what had Saten done, just slid down the sides? Uiharu turned her head weakly. <…come again?> Too late – Saten wrapped an arm around Uiharu and, shrieking with delight, jumped down the hole, pulling her friend with her. Uiharu started shrieking as well, though for entirely different reasons. At the sound of the dual shrieks, Kuroko and Pinkie’s heads both swivelled around in surprise. Pinkie said, in a tone that made everyone sure that she meant to say ‘Well, finally!’. With a hop, skip and a jump, the pink-haired girl was falling down the hole as well. Kuroko made a noise of pure panic and dived after them, the only thought going through her head was that she was the only one here well suited to aerial rescue. Touma wasn’t far behind, though he skidded to a stop in front of the hole. He called back to Index. He wasn’t quite sold on this ‘magic’ business, but she seemed to know what was going on – more than he did, at any rate. Index considered the question. Touma’s face grew pained at that. If negating things wasn’t an option, he was no more help than any other high-school student. He sighed. Misaka did not respond. Touma looked up. There was a distinct lack of tea-coloured hair in the park. Misaka 9748 tilted her head to the side as the other Misaka strode towards her. |Misaka thought that she was the only Misaka deployed on this mission, Misaka comments idly.| The other Misaka flinched, but kept on striding forward until she stood directly in front of 9748. Then, she bodily shoved 9748 into the alleyway she had been standing in the mouth of, out of sight of the street. 9748 righted herself. |You are displaying abnormal behaviour, Misaka notes with alarm. When was the last time you had maintenance performed?| |9748, there are no other Sister units in your vicinity, Misaka notes having counted them all up.| The other Misaka hissed out loud. 9748 blinked. For some reason, this seemed to upset the malfunctioning unit. Two and two are… The Original’s eyes grew wide, and her voice shook. Her behaviour was consistent with the data 9748 had of the condition called ‘shock’. 9748 frowned. The Original did not know of the project? But wasn’t she the one who had donated her DNA for it in the first place? |The Original’s DNA was obtained under false pretences, Misaka reminds Misaka while figuratively waving a finger. It isn’t a surprise that she has no idea what use it was actually put to.| The Original flinched again. <(What’s up with that way of talking?) Okay then, what are you doing?!> The Original’s breathing was starting to steady. Given that she had started to focus on the details of the situation, then by 9748’s understanding she was past the worst of her shock. Still, protocol was protocol. |Your mission is still time-critical, Misaka reminds Misaka.| The Original did not flinch this time, but instead turned around to face the direction of 9874’s broadcast. So saying, the Original stepped back from 9748 and into the main street, before running in the general direction of 9874. 9748 considered this for a moment. 9874 was not, in fact, anywhere near the current production facility – she was supplying one of the equipment drop-points for a later experiment. Still, she had her orders. Going from what she had glimpsed earlier, several members of the city had already entered the anomaly. The natives from inside it would be fully alert for more visitors, so her mission to observe unobtrusively was already doomed. She had no choice. Whatever it was that was occurring inside the anomaly, she would have to join in.