Chapter 1: Imagine Breaker. Part 1

August 20, 6:10 PM.

It was twilight at midsummer, and Kamijou Touma was walking home alone, worn out from his extra classes. Even though there was a reason for it, he still found that going back to school for extra classes during summer vacation was threatening his sanity.

Since those so-called "summer classes" usually started on the very first day of summer vacation, Kamijou probably was supposed to go to those classes from July 19th to July 28th as well.

Or at least, that was only the most likely case. Kamijou had no memories of events prior to July 28th, so he felt like he was being punished for lessons that he did not skip himself.

What was up with that?

Kamijou stood motionlessly in front of a lone juice vending machine that stood along a path with a shocked expression.

(No way, come on, please.)

He didn't want to give up on it so soon. Kamijou Touma was sure he had inserted a 2,000-yen bill into the vending machine. Yet why did the vending machine not respond in the slightest? Well, he knew very well that 2,000-yen bills were rare nowadays, but that was his hard-earned 2,000 yen. For a machine to take from him such a large amount of money and not respond... what machine empire was rebelling at the moment!? As Kamijou frantically jiggled the money return lever in vain, his heart screamed.

(Such misfortune!)

He knew without a doubt that if he, in a fit of rage, shook or kicked the vending machine, the alarm would go off.

Even in Academy City, a city opposed to the supernatural that had been built in western Tokyo, a skeptic who saw Kamijou could only possibly think "So there really are such supernaturally unlucky people in this world, huh." Kamijou was that luckless.

Crestfallen, Kamijou heard footsteps of a pair of loafers from behind him.

"Hold it... Don't stand so idiotically in front of the vending machine. If you're not buying anything, then get out of the way, move it. I need to rehydrate or else I won't be able to function anymore."

Just as Kamijou heard the sudden voice from behind him, he was gently pushed aside by a girl's soft hand on his arm.

Living in a city full of students, that would probably happen now and then, but even so the unlikely contact surprised Kamijou.

(What, what?) When Kamijou turned his head around, he saw a middle school girl. She had shoulder-length light-brown hair, good looks that didn't need make-up, a short-sleeved white blouse with a summer sweater, a gray pleated skirt... he guessed that it was the famous Tokiwadai Middle School uniform. But calling her "Ojou-sama" in front of her would be somewhat awkward. Complaining about the summer heat, she somehow resembled a shell-shocked salaryman getting off a fully-loaded train rather than a refined young lady.

(...Who is this person?)

Was she an acquaintance of his, or an overly familiar stranger? Kamijou was a bit worried. With memory loss, discerning acquaintances from strangers was the hardest thing of all. He didn't know just how far to step into someone's territory.

Kamijou's instinct told him that she was an acquaintance. Maybe, if she wasn't a stranger, he should just tread lightly.

(Ehh, let's just get this over with...) Kamijou gave up.

"...Then, who are you, girl?"

"It's me, my name's Misaka Mikoto! Try to remember, you total blockhead!!"

The instant the girl shouted, she unleashed a pale spark from her light-brown bangs.

(Shit, she has no sense of humor?)

The instant Kamijou instinctively put himself on guard, a pale lightning bolt jumped out from the girl's forehead, and quickly rushed at Kamijou.

Though he couldn't possibly have reacted fast enough by eyesight alone, Kamijou's body instinctively moved even before he was hit. It was as if his body, having been repeatedly attacked by lightning, knew from experience exactly how to respond.

As if shaking off a winged insect in front of his eyes, Kamijou swung his right hand horizontally like a backfist.

That alone totally repelled and dissipated the lightning bolt, which approached a billion volts, like it was a mere column of water.

Imagine Breaker.

No matter if he was facing espers, magicians, anyone wielding unknown powers, or even divine miracles, anything supernatural was negated when his right hand touched it. That was the Imagine Breaker's special power.

"???"

Kamijou looked at the scowling middle school girl, who he thought should be arrested for attempted homicide.

His body had moved on instinct and avoided the attack as if he had previous experience with this phenomenon. Against the flame sword unleashed by the person called Stiyl Magnus, Kamijou had also survived on instinct. But then...

Kamijou lost his memory.

However, despite losing his memories, his knowledge remained, and that was strange.

Sometime before, Stiyl must have tried to strike him with the sword, though he couldn't remember it anymore. That was probably why his body was able to move on its own.

(If that's true, then she, too, must be an acquaintance...? That's right, my acquaintance. Dammit, are these people only my acquaintances!?)

"What are you crying there for?" asked Misaka, her hand on her hip. "If you have no use for the machine, then move it. I'm gonna bust it up."

"Ah..."

Kamijou looked back and forth between the machine and the girl called Misaka Mikoto.

While he thought that not warning somebody that the machine gulps down money would be unforgivable, the girl had assaulted him. Wait, no, it would be worse to see her lower her head burst out in murderous rage... that would be scary.

"That vending machine somehow keeps on eating bills."

"I know that already," Mikoto replied.

"You know it eats bills, yet you're still gonna pay? Is that machine an offertory box or something?"

"You're such an idiot. There's a trick for this machine, an underhanded one that will have it spit out juice for free."

"..."

He had a bad feeling—a really bad feeling. That "underhanded trick"... He thought about this trick that she has been using every day. He also thought about his feeding 2,000-yen bills into the machine.

It couldn't be that this vending machine was broken!

"Legendary amongst Tokiwadai Middle School students, a granny-like oblique kick at a 45-degree angle will restart any malfunctioning machine!"

"Choi-sa—!" With that yell, she sent a skirt-level kick into the side of the machine.

*Bang!* A painful clatter of something falling reverberated inside the machine, and then a can popped out.

"You know, since it's worn down, the springs holding the juices have loosened. You can't choose which juice comes out, though—Hey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Kamijou monotoned.

Underneath her skirt were gym shorts. He felt that some of his dreams had just been destroyed.

"This Tokiwadai legend, does every young lady from Tokiwadai do it?"

"Most of the girls can't do that! Most girls wouldn't even dream of doing it..."

"..." Kamijou thought. "That's not what I mean! I'm asking if you brats have been joining forces daily to destroy vending machines with that technique!"

"It's fine, isn't it!? What are you angry for? We didn't directly harm you, did we?"

"..."

"Eh? Oh, speaking of which, you look like you keep losing money against this machine—" Stopping midway, Mikoto went silent. "...By any chance, did you already buy something?"

"..."

"Hey, did you drink something? Did you really get something? Hey, answer truthfully, or I'll shake you down; is it that you're dumbfounded because you've been robbed blind by this vending machine?"

"...And if I answer that question?"

"Of course, I'd send a cell phone pic of your stupid face to the entire world—I'm kidding! Just kidding! Don't drag your feet like that, you look really scary!"

Kamijou sighed, letting out all his tension from his body.

No matter how angry he'd get, he'd never get the 2,000 yen back. He had meant to use the money to buy fireworks for that freeloader of a white-clothed nun waiting in his dorm room. In fact, he should have saved it instead of buying anything with it, but it was no use worrying about it now.

(I guess now I should act like the loser I am—) thought Kamijou as he drooped his shoulders and turned away from Mikoto.

While looking at Kamijou's slouched back, Mikoto gave off a disinterested sigh with her hands on her hips.

"You, hold it! Tell me, how much money did you put in it?"

"...Shan't say, can't say, won't say."

Kamijou looked at her. He may have just met her, but he already realized that telling her "I lost 2,000 yen" wouldn't lead to her saying "Well, that's too bad!" It would be more like a "Gahahawahahah!!!" like a commanders from the Sengoku era.

Mikoto took on a more serious look for a bit, as if she felt a sense of responsibility for losing him the money.

"I won't laugh, I promise. While you're at it, I'll take back your lost money!"

(What's with her being this kind!?) thought Kamijou. This wouldn't have happened in the beginning had Mikoto not kicked the vending machine; Kamijou hadn't thought of this in the first place.

He was a bit scared, though, of being labeled "The Idiot Who Lost 2,000 Yen to a Machine", but Mikoto's words of "I won't laugh, I really won't laugh, I really, really won't laugh" assured him it was alright to confess.

"...2,000 yen."

"2,000 yen? You put in so much?" Mikoto asked.

"Wait, '2,000 yen'? Did you mean a 2,000-yen bill? Wow, I wanna see, I really wanna see it! A not-yet-destroyed 2,000-yen bill! Heheheh, ahahahahahahaha! So that's the vending machine's bug! Not even convenience stores accept 2,000-yen bills anymore, hahahahahahaha!"

Watching Mikoto heat up to ridiculous levels, he shouted at wit's end, "Liar!!!" He shouldn't have told her about that 2,000-yen bill. He should have exchanged it earlier. Who knows, he even might have, just for a moment, gotten a nice smile from the department store clerk, though more likely just an "Ooh."

"Hohoh. Well, then, let's hope that it'll spit that 2,000-yen bill back out. I won't accept it if this piece of junk spits out two 1,000-yen bills."

While standing in front of the vending machine, Mikoto slowly placed her right palm over the coin slot.

Suddenly, Kamijou thought of a question.

"Hey, you, how are you going to get the money back from this machine?"

"'How', you say?"

Mikoto gave him a blank look, and then,

"Like this..."

A pale lightning-like spark jumped from her right palm and instantly struck the vending machine.

*Bam!* The heavy vending machine shook from side to side like a sumo wrestler. Black smoke from the machine's inner workings billowed out through the seams like those clouds of smoke seen in manga.

Kamijou paled.

"Huh...? That's strange, I didn't want to strike it that hard. Ah, lots of juice cans came out somehow. Hey, your 2,000-yen bill didn't come out, but at least 2,000 yen's worth of juice came out; is this okay-? Hey, why are you running away!? Oi!"

Kamijou didn't dare turn around. He ran at full speed to get even just one millimetre farther away from the vending machine. Kamijou could usually tell when misfortune would strike; he'd get a feeling about a second before whenever something was about to go wrong. But not this time.

(Sh, shit!! Somehow, I didn't expect this, but I should have at least noticed it sooner...!!!)

Usually, even kicking the vending machine would only yield a silent alarm, but instead it screamed out at full power, as if letting out all of its pent-up energy.

He couldn't remember why he was running. All he knew for sure was that he had been running for about ten minutes.

By the time he noticed, Kamijou was already sitting in a bus stop in the business district. As he sat there dead tired, he gazed up at the August sky lit by the flaming-colored sunset. A blimp floated in the orange-dyed sky, the X-Vision display attached to its belly showing the Academy City news: "Mizuho Organization Withdrawing from Muscular Dystrophy Pathological Research."

"Don't go off into some kind of happy dreamland, and carry some juice. Wasn't this originally meant for you?" sighed Mikoto as she sat down beside him, tossing can after can into his lap. She looked peacefully at the wind turbines turning round and round nearby.

She was probably feeling a bit down from messing up with controlling her power.

"...I'm scared that the moment I accept the juice, I'll become an accomplice. What should I say, don't throw it at me—Ow! Hot! Why is this hot shiruko[1] mixed in?"

"When there's a malfunction, so you can't even choose what juice will come out!"

"Do you feel clear malice in black soy bean cider and soy milk?"

"Huh? That's nothing. You should be thankful. We're lucky that the two juices from hell, guarana green juice and strawberry oden, didn't even come up."

To put it another way, Academy City is also "Experiment City".

With numerous universities and research labs sending out test models of their products, the streets overflowed with experimental items like garbage disposal automatons and autonomously running security robots. That meant that the product line-up in both convenience stores and vending machines were different, but...

"...In spite of this, it's a fact that students still pay with the same money, so I'd like to ask why the bigwigs don't know about this."

"Fine, fine; even a small step towards achieving your dream means that you're full of ambition. Ah, I want that plum cider," said Mikoto as she took a can from Kamijou's arm without warning. "You know, even if it's only one can, you shouldn't always be running away. Even if I happen to be really strong, can't you just think of me as some weakling and look down on me? Try to see it that way and call me Mikoto-san, okay—?"

"...What's with this girl, saying such nonsense while acting so proud?"

"What?" Misaka looked at Kamijou, sporting a bad drunkard's look. "...Hm, maybe I shouldn't say that. But as long as the weak whimper, the strong will swagger... that's what I believe. Why are you different? There are only seven Level 5s in Academy City, so why were you chased all over town by street rogues on the level of an unleashed chihuahua?"

"???"

Despite all of Mikoto's confidence in her words, Kamijou couldn't remember anything like that.

If that were the case, were Mikoto's words wrong, or did she know some of Kamijou's unknown past? Unable to ask either question, Kamijou let it slide.

"You, you shouldn't have shown off the fact that you defeated me, Misaka Mikoto, the Railgun. But since you did, you shouldn't have apologized publicly in front of me. But now you did that, right? From then on, everyone will always remember it. They'll say, 'Ah, that Misaka Mikoto, wasn't she defeated by a boy who looks like he's been chased by a chihuahua?'" said Misaka as she downed the plum cider.

"Because you defeated me, you should take responsibility as the winner. I, one of only seven known Level 5s in Academy City, was defeated by such a boy... I could stick to that and announce it openly, you know."

"What the hell is that? This isn't the Edo period with its Bushido spirit..."

But once he began to say that, a single phrase stuck in his mind made him uncomfortable.

(You defeated me?)

(While I have no memory of it, exactly what did I do that would make a girl tell me 'you should take responsibility'—!!)

"Uh, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"Why are you groaning like that?" Mikoto asked, exasperated. "Then again, you must be irritated, too. After all, it seemed like it was pulled from some shounen manga."

Mikoto folded her arms angrily and sighed, though Kamijou didn't see it.

"I never intended to actually hit you, but you guarded perfectly against all attacks as if expecting them to hit you badly... such great technique. Putting aside my being snobbish and annoyed, the fact that it has an effect is unforgivable."

"...Uhhhhh... huh?"

Again taking notice of Mikoto's words, Kamijou groaned.

(She never expected to hit me? Does that mean our power relationship is like that of a parent laughing while he's calming down his child who is recklessly flailing his hands?)

Even though he was facing an electromaster, he never once surrendered to this girl?

...

...Too bad, Kamijou Touma.

"Somehow, you're the kind of person who loses confidence under pressure," said Mikoto disinterestedly. "Hey, enough already, drink it up. If you were a kouhai who was presented with Mikoto-sensei's personal gift, you would have swooned in delight."

"'Swoon'? As if anyone would gratefully accept this barely-hygienic juice! This isn't a shoujo manga; there's no way we're in a girls' school-type romance—I think."

"—No. It would be lovely if it were a shoujo manga." For some reason, Mikoto averts her eyes. "It would be more varied, you know—rather, it'd be muddled?"

"Onee-sama?"

A girl's bell-like voice unexpectedly resounded. Mikoto's face looked as if she had been hit from behind with ice.

Onee-sama? Onee-sama!!

"Guh" went Kamijou's as he was muted by the shock. (What the hell...!?) Turning around as quickly as he could, he saw a girl—probably a freshman middle schooler—standing a short distance away, wearing the same uniform as Mikoto. That twin-tailed brunette, with both hands together in front of her and eyes sparkling,

"Well, Onee-sama! Well, well, well, Onee-sama! Just when I was wondering why you're no longer into summer classes, this turns out to be the reason, eh!?"

As Kamijou looks at the girl beside her, Mikoto has her hands on her head, greatly troubled. But for a powerless Kamijou, he feels that Mikoto's heart is mysteriously telling him to forget the tsukkomi routine.

As Mikoto's piercing her head with her hands to ease her headache, she begins talking to the mysterious girl.

"Weeell, I want to make sure, but I was wondering whether you're saying 'because of this' or 'because of him'."

"Of course I'm referring to you secretly meeting with that gentleman over there, right?"

A spark emerged from Mikoto's hair, but the twin-tailed girl didn't seem to mind. Dumbstruck, Kamijou watched as the sweetly smiling girl approached the bench at a frightening speed.

(Oh, shit, it's coming here!) But before Kamijou could move away, she strongly grabbed Kamijou's hand with both of her own.

"Nice to meet you, sir. I am Onee-sama's squire; call me Shirai Kuroko."

"Wha?" Kamijou looked down at the hand she was holding, worrying about his reaction.

"By the way, is this degree of nervousness a warning sign of flirtatious tendencies?"

"Pfft!" Kamijou burst into laughter. Mikoto who was sitting beside him slowly stood up, and...

"W—H—Y— Y—O—U—! This weirdo is not my boyfriend!"

Accompanying the words of an injured heart, a lightning bolt leapt from Mikoto's bangs.

Shirai Kuroko let go of Kamijou's hand and stepped back, the bolt hitting nothing as she vanished into thin air.

"Tch, and she had to use teleportation at such a bad time. If this rumor ever spreads, I won't acknowledge it, dammit!"

Mikoto furiously attacked the empty space with her explosive lightning attacks, looking hell-bent on giving somebody a good electrical shock. Dammit, how am I supposed to calm her down? pondered Kamijou, when suddenly a voice came from behind the bench.

"Onee-sama?"

(Again!!!) Kamijou turned around...

And saw standing behind the bench another Misaka Mikoto.

"Wha?"

From what he could tell, the girl behind him looked no different from "Misaka Mikoto". Shoulder-length light-brown hair, good looks and features, a white short-sleeved blouse, a summer sweater, and a pleated skirt. From features and uniform to accessories, there could be no doubt about it: "Misaka Mikoto" was standing there.

But...

Kamijou returned his gaze to the girl sitting beside him. Shoulder-length light-brown hair, good looks and features, a white short-sleeved blouse, a summer sweater, and a pleated skirt. While not unexpected, he was looking at a seated "Misaka Mikoto."

There were differences, though. The girl standing behind the bench had what looked like night-vision goggles on her forehead like unused swimming goggles, and her eyes seemed emotionless. Her unfocused gaze fixedly followed the back of the seated Mikoto's head.

"...Eh? They've multiplied!? It's Misaka number two!"

Kamijou startledly looked back and forth between the two "Misaka Mikoto"s. Compared to the also surprised face of the one sitting beside him, the one standing behind the bench was staring back expressionlessly.

"So," murmured Kamijou as he looked back, "who might you be?"

"Imouto, says Misaka in a flash."

"..."

(That's one strange way of saying it,) Kamijou thought to himself. There were too many people around Kamijou who talked strangely for him to even tell if they were strange or not.

"You, Misaka, refer to yourself as 'Misaka' when talking about yourself? I don't refer to Misaka as 'Misaka' since we don't use our formal names. Wouldn't it cause chaos even at home if you call yourself 'Misaka'?"

"But Misaka's name is still Misaka, answers Misaka immediately."

"..."

There's no way Misaka would call herself "Misaka"; there must be an unwritten rule for this. Kamijou looked to Mikoto sitting beside him for assistance, but he was surprised once more; Mikoto was glaring at her silent sister.

"I, I see, Imouto. But you two sure look identical—identical as in same height and weight, right?"

Mikoto kept glaring at Imouto.

"Our genetic makeup is the same, answers Misaka. Moreover, inquiring about a girl's body weight is rude, says Misaka while speaking her mind."

Mikoto was still glaring at Imouto.

"..."

(What a strange person,) thought Kamijou.

"Then I guess you must be twins. Hmmm, it's the first time I've seen identical twins, but you two really do look identical. Well, what are you going to do, Futago-chan? Return to Nee-chan?"

Mikoto had been continuously, continuously glaring at Imouto for some time.

"How overly naive of this shallow rascal, so Misaka will answer your question so that you may catch on. Misaka came to see and confirm the one with the same power detected within a 600-metre radius of Misaka..."

If they were identical twins, then their similar powers manifesting was plenty enough to think about.

And though he thought about it... Kamijou was especially scared of Mikoto's gaze.

(Oh, shit, she's the type who hates her family being seen by her friends on parents' day,) Kamijou thought.

"...And in this place, I find a destroyed vending machine and you two carrying large quantities of juice. I never would have thought Onee-sama would take part in petty thievery, as Misaka would say with a tut-tut," Misaka-imouto continued while standing at attention. "Just what method will make Onee-sama change her ways? as Misaka would ask in a just-to-be-sure police interview."

Because of the strange accusal, Kamijou had no choice but to continue.

"Hey, she's the culprit, and I'm only an eyewitness, you know."

"Lies only prove crime, as Misaka would answer. From the measurement results of the outcome made on the front of the vending machine by the electric shock, it is established that the more recent fingerprints belong to you, as Misaka would thrust the evidence at you."

"Lies! I didn't expect an electric shock until then!"

"That's a lie, as Misaka would frankly answer."

"..."

"..."

Please help me! As Kamijou looked at Misaka-imouto, he continued to pull on the shoulder of Mikoto as she sat beside him.

But Mikoto didn't react at all.

(That's weird,) Kamijou thought. (We've met Imouto for only about ten minutes, but Mikoto's the type who would continue speaking automatically on her own initiative. Does Mikoto probably have something unspeakable about her?)

"...?"

Kamijou casually turned to the Mikoto sitting beside him. Then...

"...You! Just why are you loitering around here!?"

Without warning, the previously silent Mikoto raised her voice in explosive anger.

"Uwaaah!" went Kamijou, taken by surprise by the deafening scream from the side.

(This high-pitched scream unique to girls is piercing my eardrums; it feels like the pain I'd get after eating large amounts of shaved ice!)

Mikoto only shouted once before resuming her silence.

It's as if she's waiting for Misaka-imouto's view.

Just like after lightning strikes, empty silence enveloped them.

The blimp floated through the night sky. In the X-Vision attached to its side, today's news of "New Virus [HDC. Cerberus] Rampages Through Network" was repeatedly reported, its voice-over strangely making noise.

Within that state, as Misaka-imouto stood at attention and looked absently at Mikoto's eyes,

"One question or the other... training, as Misaka would briefly answer."

"'Training'."

Mikoto cut her breath short as if she were struck from behind, and turned her eyes away. She murmured something, but it didn't reach Kamijou's ears.

"??? If it's training, is Imouto-san entering Judgement?"

If a student's status is "vacant" and "in training", the first thing to come to mind would probably be "Judgement".

As one looking at Mikoto's power would understand, such a faculty would be far better at killing than a lowly knife. For the 2.3 million students under Academy City, there are special organizations that deal with the inevitable berserk esper.

There are two positions that take down berserk espers: the users of next-generation weapons, the teachers' corps called Anti-Skill, and the students chosen from every school called Judgement.

Both Anti-Skill and Judgement are originally ranked no higher than teachers and students, respectively. Accordingly, to join their professional ranks, one must sign nine contracts, pass thirteen different types of aptitude tests, and complete four months of training.

Mikoto clapped her hands in front of her and averted her eyes from Kamijou.

"Ah, aaah, Judgement? Ah — ah — that, that. You've been doing this because of that, lots of problems, eh, the lot of them—or, should I say, worn out?"

She said in a lovely, yet suspicious tone of voice.

"Hey. Somehow, you're talking as if you're suddenly dismissing information like it's only from a crank call."

"Heh, I'm not dismissing it; I'm merely stating it clearly, properly, exactly." Mikoto then looked at her own imouto. "We've got lots of talking to do, lots of it. Hey, Imouto, can you come with me for a bit?"

"Ha? No, even Misaka has a schedule to stick to and—"

"Enough already." Mikoto looked at Imouto dead-on. "Get over here."

That strange, flat voice... Kamijou somehow sensed it.

Mikoto had no reason to do something special. She only saw her imouto's face and had said only a word with a laugh.

But that single word. He'd taken into that point, that swirl of suspicious feelings going through Kamijou's heart.

Mikoto looked at Kamijou. At that point, she was already back to being the ordinary noisy middle school girl.

"Well, then, we're going this way. You have to mind your dorm curfew, too, you know!"

Mikoto left a sitting Kamijou behind and wrapped her arms around her imouto's shoulder. The two ordinary-looking girls then began to walk onward down the wide avenue lane.

Kamijou instinctively began to follow after Mikoto—but stopped himself.

Sitting back down on the bench, he mindlessly muttered while gazing at the blimp floating through the night sky,

"How complicated..." he softly breathed. "What kind of family are they, I wonder...?"