I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

The Sisters—clones with the exact same appearance as Misaka Mikoto.

They were products of Academy City's dark experiments.

In some ways, the relationship between the Sisters and Mikoto—or rather, between the Sisters and "Last Order"—was quite similar to Kurumi's relationship with her clones.

Standing before Misaka #4396, who gazed at her expressionlessly, Kurumi smiled softly and reached out to pat the top of her head.

"Nya~" Unlike Misaka Mikoto, #4396 remained stoic, stiffly attempting to act cute.

Though awkward, her attempt at being endearing was unexpectedly charming.

"Let's go," Kurumi said, waving goodbye to Nunotaba Shinobu before following Misaka #4396.

Kurumi knew that unless it was for a mission or experiment, it was nearly impossible to see the Sisters outside of the labs.

A faint sense of pity welled up in her chest.

...

Despite her expressionless face, the girl looked around with a gaze filled with wonder and reverence.

For the Sisters, who were manufactured in just two weeks and taught everything through mechanical learning devices, every second spent outside was precious.

Precious enough to share these experiences with all the other Sisters.

The two boarded a bus heading to District 7.

Though slow and expensive, this mode of transport allowed them to take in Academy City's scenic views. Misaka #4396 leaned on the window, letting the wind tousle her tea-colored hair.

Instead of the natural, pleasant scent Mikoto carried, her hair bore a faint trace of hospital disinfectant.

"Please refrain from sticking your head and hands out of the window," a pre-recorded message played as the bus driver pressed a button.

Hearing the reminder, the Sister promptly sat back down and straightened her posture.

"Does it look nice?" Kurumi asked.

"Very nice. Misaka confirms enthusiastically," the Sister replied.

The Sisters' quirk of verbalizing their inner thoughts was oddly endearing in its own way.

"Sunlight... is warm. Its color resembles gold," she said, cupping her hands as if to hold the light. For a brief moment, Kurumi thought she saw a smile on her otherwise mechanical face.

"It is as beautiful as the knowledge imparted through the learning device," she added, her tone flat but sincere.

Looking at the face identical to Misaka Mikoto's, Kurumi leaned back against her seat.

She could practically see the timer ticking down above #4396's head. The Sister's lifespan was rapidly running out—she wouldn't live beyond a few more months at best.

Kurumi knew she needed to put an end to all this and seek out that frog-faced doctor to address the problem. But first...

Kurumi tugged on the bus's stop cord and led the Sister off earlier than planned.

"This is not the designated stop. Misaka expresses dissatisfaction, stating that the detour delays the experiment," #4396 said in her usual flat tone.

"Misaka also wonders if the other party is lost."

Twitch—

Kurumi's temple throbbed slightly. How rude.

"My, my. It's fine. We have plenty of time. Let Kihara Amata wait," Kurumi said dismissively. "He's nothing more than a minor nuisance."

"By the way, would you like something to drink?" Kurumi asked, patting the side of a vending machine.

The Sister carefully inspected the machine, scanning it up and down before pointing at a crimson can.

"I would like that—Tomato Roast Meat Soda. Misaka expresses her request with great enthusiasm and gratitude."

"...What?!" Kurumi's mouth twitched slightly. Was this girl serious?

Kurumi glanced at the section the Sister was pointing to.

Sure enough, right next to Hot Strawberry Oden and Specialty Curry Soup was a label for the bizarre drink.

Academy City's vending machines never failed to surprise her.

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider and pick something else?" Kurumi asked again.

"No. Misaka confirms her choice. This is something even the learning device never introduced. It must be full of surprises," the Sister replied, her face as emotionless as ever despite her words about "surprises" and "gratitude."

Kurumi sighed deeply.

"Fine, you win. I'll go with coconut soda," she said, opting for Misaka Mikoto's usual favorite.

Kurumi inserted a ¥2000 bill into the vending machine.

This particular denomination, issued exclusively within Academy City, was known for its limited utility. Even within Academy City, it was rarely used, often ending up as a souvenir for tourists.

In other words, it was a denomination that frequently caused issues.

Sure enough, after Kurumi inserted the bill, the machine fell into an eerie silence.

Kurumi knocked on the vending machine repeatedly, employing the universal "percussive maintenance" technique.

Clack, clack—

Two cans of drinks rolled out.

"You're really going to drink this?" Kurumi confirmed again, receiving a resolute nod from Misaka Sister.

Kurumi took a sip of her green-labeled coconut soda.

As expected... she wasn't quite used to it. Her usual carbonated cola was far superior.

Under Kurumi's curious gaze, Misaka Sister carefully cradled the can of Tomato Roast Meat Soda in both hands, taking a cautious sip.

"How is it?" Kurumi teased.

"It is a unique beverage. Misaka expresses her mixed feelings as she remarks on a flavor she has never experienced before," Misaka Sister said, holding the can with perfect composure, seemingly unaffected by the bizarre drink.

"The taste is very... 'special.' Misaka struggles to articulate her true feelings."

"Pfft—" Kurumi froze momentarily before bursting into laughter.

It seemed her secret suggestion to Nunotaba Shinobu to adjust the Sisters' emotional responses wasn't entirely ineffective.

"Misaka feels dissatisfied with the other party's laughter and shifts her attention to their coconut soda," Misaka Sister stated, her expression blank but her eyes fixed intently on the can Kurumi was holding.

"Oh?" Kurumi blinked in surprise. "You... want this?"

"Yes! Misaka affirms her request," Misaka Sister replied in her usual monotone.

"Well... I could buy you another one," Kurumi offered.

"Wasting resources is an unacceptable behavior. Misaka expresses her disdain," the Sister declared.

"..."

Kurumi narrowed her eyes slightly, feeling something peculiar about this Sister's demeanor. She handed over the green can of coconut soda.

Misaka Sister took a careful sip, and although her face remained stoic, Kurumi could sense her satisfaction.

It seemed the Sisters shared similar preferences with their original, Misaka Mikoto.

Kurumi continued knocking on the vending machine as if trying to coax it. The change it owed her still hadn't come out.

The corner of her mouth twitched upward slightly as she thought of Mikoto's signature 45-degree high kick.

Sometimes... it was okay to let loose a little.

Lifting her skirt slightly, Kurumi twisted her body and delivered a precise thrust kick.

Rip—

The vending machine met its untimely demise, torn in two by Kurumi's perfectly executed kick.

"Hiss... Misaka assures herself she saw nothing," the Sister said, holding the two drinks at her temples and staring blankly at Kurumi.

Kurumi froze. That's mocking me, isn't it? It has to be mocking me!

How is it my fault the machine was so fragile? Even that lousy slot machine I kicked the other day could withstand several hits!

Grabbing Misaka Sister by the hand, Kurumi slipped into the shadows.

...

"Anomaly detected—"

"Suspicion of property damage—"

"Suspicion of property damage—"

The late-arriving cleaning robots issued their alerts, their alarms echoing through the area.

...

Emerging from the black-and-red shadows, Kurumi and Misaka Sister appeared on the rooftop of a nearby building.

"Misaka thought the other party intended to silence her, Misaka declares with mock fright while patting her chest," the Sister remarked as she took a dainty sip of the coconut soda, looking like a contented kitten.

"I don't see a hint of fear in you. And since when did you pat your chest?" Kurumi retorted, bemused.

"Misaka merely stated it. Please do not overthink it," Misaka Sister replied without a hint of emotion.

Sitting on the edge of a skyscraper rooftop, Kurumi overlooked the steel jungle of Academy City. Behind her, Misaka Sister stood silently, her figure framed by the setting sun.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? This world," Kurumi said, raising her hand slightly. The sleeve of her dress slipped down, revealing a small section of her flawless, delicate skin.

"It's beautiful," Misaka Sister replied, her gaze seemingly locked onto the exposed arm. It was unclear whether she was admiring the scenery or the person resembling it.

Her normally vacant tea-colored eyes began to shimmer with a faint glimmer of life.

Misaka #4396, who once responded to the world with the simplest programmed logic, seemed to have undergone some sort of change.

Nunotaba Shinobu, hailed as a genius, wasn't included in the Level 6 Shift Project as a supervisor for no reason. At Kurumi's urging, she had silently and subtly corrected many things.

"The Sisters... like it," Misaka #4396 murmured softly behind Kurumi.

Through the electromagnetic "Misaka Network," the Sisters shared this moment, watching the cityscape through #4396's perspective.

As a result, the wind turbines across District 7 began spinning in reverse.

The knowledge they had acquired through learning devices slowly began aligning with the world around them, painting a fuller, more vivid picture in their minds.

This was a world far beyond what they could experience as experimental subjects valued at ¥180,000 apiece.

"Misaka, unit #4396, expresses gratitude to Kurumi-sama," #4396 said, her tone calm yet laced with respect. Though her voice was devoid of emotion, it carried a sense of humanity that Kurumi couldn't ignore.

Though still expressionless, though still incomplete, they were no longer mere lab mice.

"All 17,173 Sisters extend their thanks to Kurumi-sama through unit #4396," the Sister said, bowing gracefully. For a moment, Kurumi felt as though she could see all the Sisters freezing simultaneously in reverence.

But before Kurumi could even smile in acknowledgment, #4396 delivered a line that completely shattered the mood.

"Thank you. You're a good person."

Kurumi nearly lost her balance and tumbled off the rooftop. Her mouth twitched awkwardly.

For someone like Kurumi Tokisaki, known for her wicked charm and breathtaking allure, to have her reputation sullied in such a way... it was unthinkable.

Receiving 17,173 rejections all at once? What was she supposed to do with that?

"Misaka wonders if she said something inappropriate," #4396 said, tilting her head in confusion. "Misaka reviews her words and finds no grammatical errors."

She then made a move to repeat her statement.

"Thank you. You're a—"

"Stop! Stop!" Kurumi interrupted, standing abruptly. "I really appreciate it, but let's not."

Seeing #4396's puzzled expression, Kurumi sighed softly and reached out to pat her head, ruffling her hair gently.

Her tea-colored hair, slightly shorter than Misaka Mikoto's, appeared freshly trimmed. It swayed in the sunlight, gleaming faintly.

Misaka #4396 let out a soft, animal-like hum, resembling a contented kitten.

"Misaka #4396 is being scolded by all the other Misakas. Misaka #4396 threatens to disconnect the network if this continues," Misaka #4396 reported, and for a moment, Kurumi thought she saw a sly, cat-like expression of triumph on her otherwise blank face.

"It's okay," Kurumi replied with a gentle smile.

A simple pat on the head? No problem. No matter how many Sisters there were, she could pat every one of them. She'd even synchronize the head pats if needed.

"But speaking of which... 17,173 Misaka Sisters, huh?" Kurumi hesitated, her tone shifting slightly.

"That means... 2,827 have already..."

"Correction: it is 2,828," Misaka #4396 interrupted, her tone as calm as ever. "Including both phases of production, a total of 20,001 Misaka units were created."

"Misaka expresses her sorrow for Misaka #2828."

"Over two thousand already..." Kurumi flexed her wrist. "I guess I'll just have to give that guy a real beating."

...

Following Misaka #4396, Kurumi arrived at the research facility responsible for the Level 6 Shift Experiment—the same lab where Accelerator was stationed.

But instead of Kihara Amata, she was greeted by a spinach-haired man who appeared to be in his late 30s.

From the moment Kurumi laid eyes on him, she sensed a malicious aura about him, like that of a viper.

Have I met this guy before? Kurumi wondered.

Inside the facility, Kihara Amata was absent, and so was Accelerator.

Kurumi raised her eyebrows slightly and began sending signals to her clones.

Something felt off. If Kihara Amata had arranged for Misaka Sister to invite her here and explicitly mentioned the Tree Diagram Designer's calculations being complete, then both he and Accelerator should have been present.

A female researcher escorted Misaka #4396 away. Before leaving, the Sister paused, her expressionless but striking eyes meeting Kurumi's briefly as if wanting to say something, then turned and left without a word.

Waiting for Kurumi in the lab was a woman who appeared to be in her late 20s but was well-maintained. She wore faded jeans, a slightly worn T-shirt, and a lab coat.

Kurumi recognized her immediately. She was the core supervisor of Accelerator's experiments.

"Hello, I'm Yoshikawa Kikyou," the woman greeted, introducing herself before gesturing to the spinach-haired man beside her.

"This is Amai Ao, from Science Association' Seventh Pharmacology Research Center."

"Oh my," Kurumi's smile widened as she glanced at him.

She remembered him now.

He had been the lead researcher of the failed Mass-Produced Esper Project. Saddled with crushing debt after its failure, his only salvation had been the initiation of the Level 6 Shift Experiment. Without it, he would have been sent to the dark side of Academy City—to be fed to the metaphorical sharks.

Everything about his demeanor now made perfect sense.

If Kurumi's actions led to the termination of this experiment, Ao would once again find himself drowning in a debt he could never repay.

For him, only death—or something worse—would await.

Academy City, after all, was far from the idyllic place it appeared to be.

"Tch."

Amai Ao noticed Kurumi's gaze, clicked his tongue, and looked away, his expression teetering on the edge of madness.

To him, Kurumi wasn't a captivating and enigmatic beauty or a Level 5 esper with immense research value. She was a walking mass of debt, a reminder of everything that threatened his fragile existence.

But it's fine now, Ao thought.

Kihara Amata had promised him...

Yes, soon, he would be free. Ao clenched his fists tightly.

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