A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 8 (14 page)

A dark red hole had opened in the gut of her uniform, and a strangely colored liquid was dripping from it. A moment later, the window behind her displaying the night view of the city shattered into tiny pieces.

With the air conditioner’s effectiveness dampened, the warm night air came inside.

Shirai’s body tilted backward.

It seemed like the lamp’s weight had gotten the better of her as she collapsed straight to the floor.

“Hah…” Awaki Musujime laughed, her right hand trembling hard. White smoke billowed up from the pistol her hand was holding. “Ha-ha…”

She had managed to take down Kuroko Shirai as she came for her.

But at the same time, Musujime was forced to admit one thing.

It had nothing to do with their abilities.

Until now, she had thought the fact that she was hurting people was a natural side effect of her monstrous power. But it had nothing to do with Move Point. Awaki Musujime was capable of hurting people even without her ability. The evil one, in the end, wasn’t her ability—but
her.

The evil one, in the end…

Musujime’s lips dried. Her tongue dried. Her throat dried. She had tried to say that out loud, but her voice didn’t come out. So instead, she delivered her conclusion in wordless silence.

The root cause of everything.

The one who had been hurting others nearby.

The source of the red color scattering around before her.

It was her own weakness—for finding solace by telling herself it was her unfortunate ability’s fault.

Awaki Musujime thought back.

Back to the espers who had believed in the same thing she had. Her allies, afraid of their own terrible powers, fighting to search for whether or not they really needed to have them. The people who had begged her to use them as shields in order to protect her from Mikoto Misaka’s lightning attacks.

Musujime believed that she was the same as them.

But her belief was different from the answer she’d found.

She…

…had stood with them only through deceiving them.

Even if she used the remnant to acquire the Tree Diagram, even if she investigated the possibility of powers nobody knew existed, everything had gone exactly according to Musujime’s plan.

The most basic part of her would never be changed again.

The part of her capable of hurting others—it would be with her forever.

“Hah, ah…ah, gah. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?!”

She cradled her head in her hands, bent over backward, and let out a scream.

She had flung away the blazer she was holding, not aware of the trivial fact that her top half was naked and exposed.

With her index finger still on the handgun’s trigger, even though she could accidentally fire it again—she tore at her own head, unaware even of such a simple prospect. She shouted and roared, her face muscles twisting and distorting, as if to eject everything pent up in the bottom of her stomach.

Bang!!
came a deafening roar.

As Musujime sat on the floor, tearing at her hair, in her violence she had accidentally pulled the trigger. It happened to be pointing upward, and sparks flew from its muzzle, launching a lead bullet toward the ceiling. It bounced off, without piercing through, then struck the flashlight on the floor, bending it in half and sending it flying. However, she didn’t bother to look at something so minor.

“Gah, ah!! Ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

Musujime, her face distorted like a beast, pointed her gun at Shirai.

But though she pulled the trigger, she didn’t feel the recoil from the internal springs so peculiar to firing a gun. Only an empty
click
of pulling air remained in her fingers.

“Uuh, ah. Ah, ah?”

Musujime’s head twisted.

Glancing at her right hand revealed only that it was in the shape of holding a gun—the actual
gun
wasn’t there.

There was a soft
clank
from far away.

The handgun suddenly dropped to the floor fifteen meters to her side.

Move Point.

Of course, Awaki Musujime hadn’t been trying to warp her handgun. It had flown from her hand on its own, without her thinking about it. It only took her a moment’s thought to know why.

And that moment, her ability went off spontaneously.

There was a loud
roar!!

Everything within five meters of Musujime—chairs, tables, forks, knives, decorative plants, menus, paper napkins, dishes, luggage—was blown away. All the objects crossed through space and warped outside in a neat circle with her at its center. As those tables and chairs in the circle warped right above her, there were many more loud bangs as they crushed other objects they teleported into. Teleportation didn’t work on other espers who used that type of ability. Without that rule, Shirai might have been blown above the circle as well.

“…”

Musujime, oddly expressionless, pulled her index finger lightly.

The handgun returned to her hand in that moment, but there was a spoon caught through the middle of the barrel. It seemed like after she’d teleported the handgun, she’d teleported a spoon right onto it. Even an amateur could tell it was no longer usable.

She looked up to see all the objects above her in the circle repeatedly moving and warping like a tempest. The process overlaid object with object, crushed some and destroyed others, then fed their fragments back into the storm.

In any case, if she couldn’t use it, she couldn’t use it. She angrily threw the gun to the side without setting the safety.
Brrrack!
The gun ruptured from the inside, flinging pieces everywhere, but Musujime was no longer paying attention to it.

The circular tempest surrounding Musujime suddenly stopped.

The objects and fragments continually teleporting around her all ground to a halt and fell to the floor at once.

“I’ll kill you…”

A low, twisted, distorted voice.

Sweat gathered on Musujime’s chest like fat sizzling, being fried off a piece of meat.

“I will kill you! You, you!! How dare you break me like this!! If it wasn’t for you, I would have still gotten through this!!”

Shirai, collapsed on the floor, smiled weakly at the absurd excuse. Musujime crawled over on top of her with a face of pure rage, perhaps having decided to strangle her.

But suddenly, she looked back up. “Hah. Ah-ha-ha!! How disappointing, Shirai!” She could hear Anti-Skill police car sirens from afar—they had noticed the commotion. “None of this
I’ll take care of you next time
business. I will kill you no matter what. I can put an end to you somewhere far away, wherever I like. Because I am superior, and you’re no more than a failure.”

Musujime clicked her tongue and wobbled to her feet. “…The developers say any more than one thousand kilograms puts a strain on my body, but with Move Point I can teleport up to 4,520 kilograms. I can drive you into here even while running away. You
and
the whole building will crumble down to the ground.” She spoke in a low, low voice. “Heh-heh, I’ll break it all for you. You broke me, so I need to repay the favor, Shirai. I’ll crush this entire building under you. I wonder how badly that will mangle your body?”

There was no reply to Musujime’s voice. Shirai was looking up at the ceiling as if already dead. Musujime spat on the floor. Then, looking around, she picked up the blazer with the torn-off sleeve, slung it around her back, then located the luggage with the broken handle—

“Oh…I’m sorry, did you still need that?”

“!” Musujime turned around to the voice to find Kuroko Shirai laughing. Despite all her cuts, bruises, and wounds, her lips turned up in sarcasm, as if to say they weren’t enough to stop her.

Musujime kicked Shirai in the side as hard as she could. She didn’t stay to watch the blood spurting from the girl; instead, she grabbed the luggage, eyes bloodshot. With her objective and her methodology no longer aligned, she even ignored the consequences and the future.

Her face still bent out of shape, Awaki Musujime vanished into thin air along with the luggage.

Kuroko Shirai, however, couldn’t use Teleport anymore.

If she stayed here like this, she’d be hit with Musujime’s attack that was soon to come.

Maximum weight of 4,520 kilograms.

Apparently, using her full power harmed her own body, but in exchange, she could crush both Shirai and the floor under her. And it wouldn’t stop there. If she destroyed the floor, then the entire building was sure to collapse like a failed block-tower game.

She had to get away.

Anyone else would have come to the same conclusion, but Shirai couldn’t move even a fingertip.

Big…Sis…ter…

Her lips delivered a silent voice into the void.

She was far too distant for her feelings to reach.

It was a disaster inside the restaurant. The giant windows had been smashed, the neatly lined tables had been dragged away and turned over, the menus had been trampled under the feet of the fleeing patrons, the dishes and silverware lay broken on the floor, blood was scattered all over, and to top it all off, there was a girl covered in wounds on the floor. There were no patrons or employees. The very white light and the out-of-place French pop music drifting from the speakers were the only things controlling the room. The air conditioner couldn’t keep up with its job at all now that the windows were broken.

“…Ugh…”

Kuroko Shirai, lying on the floor covered in blood, willed strength into her fingertips. Very slightly, they moved. But that was all. Her arms wouldn’t move. Her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t get up, nor could she walk out of here. She couldn’t even use her arms to crawl away. Plus, with how hazy her mind felt, she couldn’t use teleportation.

This is the end of the road
, she thought.

Awaki Musujime had already fled from here. But she probably hadn’t gotten too far away. Direct distance or time didn’t mean much when you were fleeing using Move Point. The question was how well she could cover her tracks by using the special privilege to ignore the flow of traffic and the thickness of walls she had.

On top of that, Musujime habitually felt terrified at the thought of warping her own body. She would be choosing her destination points very, very carefully so she could keep her number of jumps to a minimum. So at the moment, she would be hiding in a safe spot, constructing a route with which she would remain absolutely, positively safe.

And she had announced that she would kill Shirai for sure. That she would crush to death the dying girl by making use of her 4,520-kilogram maximum power.

Shirai didn’t know when it would be coming. It could be five seconds, or it could be five minutes. She didn’t think it would be five hours or five days, though.

Whichever the case, unless she got out of here, she was done for.
This is…the worst…
Her bloodstained hair stuck to her cheek and got into her mouth.
A tragedy…is what this is. Leaving the enemy alive, waiting for my own execution, and not only stupidly making her more excited but sending her powers out of control. How many people will Kuroko Shirai need to apologize to, to be forgiven for this?

One girl immediately came to mind at the top of the list of those she had to apologize to.

Mikoto Misaka.

They weren’t bound by any circumstances in their past—they weren’t childhood friends, nor did their families spend time with one another. Shirai had met her after entering Tokiwadai Middle School…so since this April, and there wasn’t some special agreement between them. At first, they really were just coincidentally attending the same school and happened to see each other in the same building from time to time.

But that was all it took to teach Shirai. Even if they only ever saw each other around school, it was far more than enough.

All the things Shirai were taught were simple.

Courtesy—it wasn’t something you wore on yourself, but something to let the other person be at ease.

Etiquette—it wasn’t something you forced on the other person, but a way to guide others.

Knowledge—it wasn’t something to flaunt, but something with which to listen to the problems of others.

Pride—it wasn’t for yourself, but rather first gained when protecting others.

It wasn’t as though Shirai had been given a rambling lecture on the subject.

All she needed to do was
see.

Being treated like that, whether she liked it or not, made how small she was sink into her mind. At first glance, Mikoto seemed to act violently and at random, but it was only her understanding all those simple concepts and still looking strange for it. Even street fights had all sorts of manners involved in battles, with the dueling code of honor being a major one. Even now, Shirai knew that Mikoto was way different than she was—all Shirai did was pretend, without really understanding the basics.

She…

Mikoto Misaka…

…would never have made such a blunder. Shirai was sure of it. It was only her opinion as someone selfish, shameless, patronizing, and outside the picture, but she still knew that Railgun wouldn’t be in any danger in a crisis like this. She would grin and clash face-first with her opponent, dominating the match without giving them time for a counterattack, then leave without a scratch on her.

She would stand in defiance of such a tiny predicament.

No matter how bad the situation was, she’d never take a single step back.

She would run straight to Shirai. She’d put her, wounds and all, on her back. She’d even throw in a few words of consolation. Then she’d jump out of the building at the very last second.

Maybe she
would
come to the rescue of her idiot underclassman lying here.

Kuroko Shirai thought of Mikoto Misaka’s name, and of her face.

And then she smiled a little.
Well, this might be aiming a bit high even for my perfect Big Sister.
Her complacent self-mockery was accompanied by something around her creaking. It sounded almost like a glass pane being pressed on.
Here it comes
, she thought hazily. It didn’t look like any teleportation or Move Point she’d seen thus far, but she still knew.

Within the next ten seconds, most likely, 4,520 kilograms of weight would be crossing through space and appear on top of her.

Outside the broken windows, she could hear car engines and the same commotion as before. The gap between that and this room, currently enveloped in an eerie silence—aside from the out-of-place French pop music coming from the speakers, but that was actually giving her the creeps—made her want to smile.

I don’t want to die
, she thought dimly.

And at the same time, while she knew it would never reach, she prayed as hard as she could to Mikoto Misaka.

To Railgun, who might be rushing here at this very moment, having noticed the commotion.

Please…

Shirai couldn’t move at all by herself.

But with someone’s support, she could move out of here.

If rescue were to come with this timing…

If someone came for her at the last moment, like one of those old, worn-out superheroes…

Please…

That was what the girl in twin tails wished for.

At the end of it all, one step away from the grand finale, at this very moment.

Just get as…far away from here as you can. Please, do make sure not to get caught in this, Big Sister
.

Kuroko Shirai ardently wished for this. She could no longer avoid Awaki Musujime’s attack, which would be starting any moment now. Even if someone came running in for her, the odds of her being saved were slim. If Mikoto were to see this place, she’d probably rush over to the fallen Shirai’s side first thing—without a thought to the attack coming through space. Even if her intuition was vivid enough to see the attack coming and she tried to take Shirai out of the building with her, would she even be in time? If worse came to worst, they’d
both
be killed in the building’s collapse. Those odds were
not
slim.

But still…

Still…

Ah…

She could hear something.

A banging. Someone’s footsteps were climbing up to the entrance to the now-uninhabited floor. Footsteps, running up the emergency stairwell—had they thought using the elevator was too much of a pain?

No, wait, they weren’t just footsteps.

Crackle, crackle.
With them came the sound of electric sparks flying.

Ahhh…!! No!
she thought, her face growing pale.

Her limbs weren’t moving, so she couldn’t stop those footsteps whether or not she wanted to.

So instead, she moved her mouth. “No…don’t! Don’t…Please don’t come here!” As she spoke, the tears began at how perfect the timing was. She strained her throat, pouring every last bit of stamina into her final shout. “A special attack is coming here! This floor is too dangerous to come to! No, please, get away from the whole building! It’s going to collapse!!” she screamed, lying in her own blood on the floor.

The space around her grated and squealed. Was it the herald of Musujime’s attack, or was it just a signal? “…?!”
This is bad
, she thought. She had stormed into the restaurant with teleportation, so she didn’t know the exact construction and floor plan of the building, but at the very least, she could tell that whoever’s footsteps those were, they wouldn’t make it to this floor within ten seconds. Going directly here would be one thing, but having to run around all the hallways and staircases like they were would just end up wasting time and distance—it was impossible.

Shirai didn’t know in any concrete sense what object Musujime was going to warp in here.

But if 4,520 kilograms of weight all came in at once, it wouldn’t just be this floor—the rest of the building would collapse, too. And it would catch anyone inside when it did.

She couldn’t allow that.

She absolutely could not allow that.

“Run…away…!!” she tried to shout, on the verge of tears, but she didn’t make it. She couldn’t make it. A moment later, the air in the room all twisted apart. Her vision suddenly looked like she was seeing the world through a fish-eye lens; it was probably the aftermath of something starting to tear space apart, with the compression rate of air on the floor changing and causing light to refract.

The attack was beginning.

“…!!” Shirai gritted her teeth. She tried as hard as she could.

But her limbs still wouldn’t move. Not even a fingertip could move. Her ability wasn’t working at all, either.
I hate this
, she thought from the very bottom of her heart. If only she’d been stronger. She could have easily teleported both herself and the person coming to save her right out of the building without a problem. And if she hadn’t lost to Awaki Musujime, she would never have been forced into this kind of crisis in the first place.

She didn’t have the strength now that she felt that way.

Reality never worked out like that.