Clever Girl
Saten Ruiko sat on her legs in front of her chabudai sipping a cool glass of lemonade as she flipped through a magazine. It was a fashion magazine detailing the latest summer trends. Boring. Boring. Boring. She closed the magazine, placed it on the chabudai, and fell back onto the floor with a groan. The moment she closed her eyes she felt the magazine flutter onto her face. Flailing around, she grappled with the shiny pages acting as though she were drowning; falling back to the ground in defeat.
“You can’t just allow it consume your face,” a voice said from overhead.
“Ack,” Ruiko said.
The woman overhead grabbed the magazine off her face revealing a dopey smile. “Who even reads these things anymore?” she said, examining the crumpled pages.
“Not everything’s digital you know,” Ruiko said as she sat up.
“Kind of weird for a city like this,” the blonde haired Norwegian girl said as she sat down next to her.
“You don’t suppose there’s some sort of conspiracy the paper companies got going to-” Ruiko said before being interrupted.
“My. Really? On with the conspiracies again?” Frenda Seivelun said with a sigh as she sat beside her.
“Oh come on—you know you love hearing about my theories~,” Ruiko said, flashing her a quick grin.
Frenda snickered to herself. “It’s one of your most endearing traits after all,” she said.
Ruiko could only smile as she plopped her head into her lap and nuzzled it against her thighs. A warm smile sketched across Frenda’s face as she began to tuck a strand of hair to the back of Ruiko’s ear. “Tell me more about your little theory,” she said in a coo.
Ruiko closed her eyes as she began to speak. “What if there’s a willful act of suppression in the city?”
“Willful?” Frenda asked, stroking Ruiko’s hair.
“It would make sense: to keep everyone grounded on some level. That could mean two things; either there’s a group of people out there with the intention to keep us from being completely digitized to grant us absolution… or they’re nefariously stalling progress for some other means,” she said turning her head over into Frenda’s stomach.
Frenda grimaced. “You know, I don’t think that’s all that untrue.” Ruiko murmured as she took in the warm of her ricocheting breath.
Mikoto felt a tug on her arm just before placing a foot on the escalator. Turning back she could see Misaki grabbing her lightly with her gloved hand as she stared at the floor. The feeling of being chased after made her heart race, and she waited to hear what words might escape her lips with baited breaths. Her starry eyes were piercing, as if an entire world was looking through her.
“I did care,” she said.
With the air sucked out of her lungs, Mikoto took a step back landing a foot on the escalator. She began to open her lips, but soon felt the pull of the stairs bring her down. Misaki, with her hand still latched to her wrist, subsequently fell into her. Just before the two would fall onto the hard rectangular stairs, Mikoto let loose a small electrical discharge and stopped them from moving, and with one swift movement magnetized her feet to them. Misaki cringed as she braced herself against Mikoto. Falling. Falling. Falling? Misaki looked up. Mikoto had a tense expression. It was unlike her to be so nervous, as if she narrowly skirted by a huge disaster. Such feats would be of little consequence to the Railgun as Misaki well knew. And then she could feel it through her chest: a pounding heart. She couldn’t help but smile, and given what she observed, burrowed her head into Mikoto’s chest.
Feeling a cold shiver down her spine, Mikoto’s face flushed as her back slowly started bending backward. Farther, farther, and farther. For a moment it was as though she were a gymnast doing preparatory stretches. That is, until she zapped the escalator to start again—the two of them gently flowing down to the first floor. As they touched the ground Mikoto quickly whipped away and exhaled a big breath. Misaki bit her bottom lip and stifled a laugh.
Taking a moment to compose herself, Mikoto turned around and stared at her with her brows furrowed inward. “What do you mean you care?” she asked.
“Wow, that’s a tonal shift,” she said, placing a hand on her hips as she flipped her hair.
“People don’t just leave if they care,” she said, taking a step forward with an accusatory point.
“Now now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Misaki said, taking a step forward to match Mikoto’s.
Suddenly Misaki’s grin faded. Mikoto’s eyes had begun to fill with water as her lips trembled. “There’s more to it than caring,” she said as she looked at her with a neutral expression.
Mikoto’s brows pressed further down as she clenched her fist.
“There were greater forces at work than you realize,” she said. “I was driven away, and the place I was driven to was not somewhere I wanted to be. And so I left there too.”
Mikoto’s eyes widened and her fingers unlatched from her palms. Misaki approached her with a weak smile. “We should talk somewhere else,” she said, grabbing her wrist again and beginning to pull on it.
The two walked down the sidewalk side by side. Misaki’s hands were behind her back as she gazed off into the distance. Mikoto’s hands were in her pockets as she stared to the ground; she felt like an idiot. Since when did she react so haphazardly at her age to… what? It’s not like her and Misaki were that close; it’s not like it was Kuroko that ditched her. Better yet, why was she lying to herself? She’s not 14 anymore. No, no ma’am. She’s an adult, and the least she can do is be honest with herself. She missed Misaki. It was written all over her face earlier, from her tears to her fury. But how would she communicate that without being weird? It was if she had the social understanding of her clones… but perhaps even they would have handled this situation better.
“Shokuhou…” she said, stopping and raising her head.
“Hm? Is something wrong?” she asked, stopping and turning around.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been a violent storm of emotions lately, and I didn’t mean to take any of it out on you.” She said with a bow.
Misaki sighed and took a few steps toward her, placing an arm on her shoulder. “It’s alright. Old faces bring back old emotions after all.”
Mikoto flinched. Old emotions huh? Well, that wasn’t inaccurate. Misaki’s brief smile before she turned around allowed her to breathe a sigh of relief and continue following behind. Before long the two stood at the outside of a little cottage. Something straight out of Snow White. But in the city. It was a small house with two arches and tons of vines and moss overgrown over a gate… and a fence that was barely visible. She would have missed it if not the black spikes peaking out here and there.
“There aren’t many green areas in Academy City that aren’t parks, and there’s even fewer with cute little cottages,” Misaki said, unlocking the gate and holding it open for Mikoto.
“Thanks.”
“M’lady,” she said with a curtsy.
“Please never say that again,” Mikoto said with as she felt a shiver go down her back.
Misaki smirked as she closed the gate and made her way to the front door.
“It’s…”
“Not much like me?”
“Yeah…” Mikoto said, looking around.
“Sometimes things are too big; even for a queen.” She said, unlocking the door motioning for her companion to enter.
The interior was quaint: large aged wood planks made up the walls, as if they were in the hull of an old pirate ship. The furniture seemed to be English… Victorian? It appeared old and delicate, but also ornate in design. The chairs had marvelous Art Nouveau carvings while the cushions were plump with lace draping. Then there was the… polar bear rug in front of the fire place. “Really?” Mikoto said blinking.
“What? It’s not like it’s real,” Misaki said, removing her crossbody and sitting on the daybed.
“I hope not. I shudder to think of how you would obtain such a thing,” she said, sitting beside her.
“Are you okay?” Misaki asked.
“Huh? What-”
“Beyond this. Beyond today. There’s something bothering you,” she said, scooting closer to her. “You mentioned before about life not seeming to work out for you.”
Mikoto paused. Time seemed to freeze as Misaki looked into her eyes. She had almost entirely forgotten about their earlier interaction. Perhaps instinctively, she reached for the hat on her head. The hat. The hat! When did she receive it? She concentrated until sparks generated around her face. Nothing. Come to think of it, she couldn’t really remember much about graduating from middle school. Something was wrong. People don’t just lose such large chunks of their memory out of the blue. And for how long at that? What else had been taken away from her? Who took it?
“Hey,” Misaki said, reaching out to her wrist.
Mikoto remembered to breathe and the sparks ceased.
“You still can’t remember?”
“No… but at least it didn’t hurt this time,” she said.
Misaki looked at her softly and let out an audible breath. “Well, thank goodness for that.”
A blush crept across Mikoto’s face as she looked away from her eyes. “S-so, what do you know about my memory loss…?” she said, blurting out her words as her palms sunk into her thighs.
“Ah. Hm.” Misaki leaned away from her and placed a gloved finger to her chin. “Well, remember what I was saying earlier?”
Mikoto nodded, making eye contact again.
“There’s been a concentrated effort to target the level fives of Academy City,” she said.
“Target?”
“Not like that tacky American retailer-”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right, well, to manipulate us. Naturally, they’ve had a much more difficult time with me; especially as my powers have evolved,” Misaki said, hunching forward and resting her face against her interlaced fingers. “They want control, and the biggest threats are those they cannot readily collar.”
“Who’s they? Who is it now?”
“The worst of the worst. Imagine, if you can either remove or control the strongest abilities in the world, what is there to stop you?”
“You’re being cryptic,” Mikoto said with a pout, leaning forward on the daybed with both arms.
“Right, sorry. I don’t have names, if that’s what you’re after. But I do know they have gone to extensive lengths to do certain things,” Misaki said, turning to her. “Things like altering events or removing them entirely.”
A terrible feeling perturbed at the pit of Mikoto’s stomach, as though there was a monster behind her ready to strike. “What would they want with our graduation?”
“That remains to be seen. Obviously, it seems, that they wanted to sever our song and dance,” Misaki said with a wink.
“Song… and dance? What does that…” Mikoto said as Misaki blushed.
“My, don’t act like you doon’t knoow~,” she said looking away and twirling a piece of her hair.
“Wha…” Her hands began to shake a little as sweat developed around her neck.
“Well, we… you see,” she said.
“Misaki what are you trying to say?” Mikoto asked with an increased tempo, gulping as she stared intently.
She couldn’t help but laugh at her chestnut haired houseguest. Mikoto sat there clueless.
“I’m only kidding, really. But my point stands, the odds of you simply forgetting such things and the timing of my abdication is too coincidental. More to the point, it would also explain your distance and avoidance over the years.”
“Distance and avoidance?” Mikoto asked, laying back with a sigh.
“You would ignore me whenever you’d see me in public,” Misaki said as she looked to the floor.
“Maybe I just didn’t see you,” she said, placing her hands behind her head.
“No, you did. There was a cold, unfeeling gaze that made it feel like we were strangers. Or less than.”
Mikoto opened an eye and peered over at her would-be storyteller. “I can only remember a handful of uneventful encounters, and generally with other people. Are you sure it wasn’t a clone?”
There was an air of silence between them as Misaki vacantly stared off into space thinking.
“Hey,” Mikoto said, placing a hand on Misaki’s shoulder.
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“Was everything between us erased?” Misaki asked, looking back to her.
Mikoto blushed. “I don’t know what that means.”
“We were still friends after graduation, you know…”
Mikoto looked away. “Well, why would some super secret organization want to erase that?”
“The less cooperation between level fives, the better. I suppose there’s a bit of irony here, given what I do. So I can’t be mad,” Misaki said with half a smile.
“This seems a bit different,” Mikoto said with a weak laugh.
Misaki leaned back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have a headache, ironically enough.”
“Should I go?” Mikoto asked. She didn’t want to leave, but felt it was the proper thing to ask in such a scenario.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Misaki said, leaning her head into a pillow with her eyes closed.
“So what’s the end goal with all this?”
“Mmm… It’s all smoke and mirrors. Cryptic sayings about reliving the past. Whoever the orchestrators are, they’ve meticulously planned things out. Sewing misinformation in the right people to be believable, using multiple coded systems… it’s led me to so many dead ends that I’m on something of a reprieve from all of it,” she said, rubbing her temple. “But, what I do know is, that there’s an active suppression. Of progress. Technologically. I don’t know what or why.”
“That’s… a lot,” Mikoto said, leaning back and onto Misaki’s shoulder, causing her to flinch. “Ah! S-sorry!”
Misaki opened her eyes wearily. “It’s okay. It’s been a long day emotionally,” she said.
“This has to be one hell of a clandestine operation to even lead you astray,” Mikoto said with a bit of pep.
“Ho~? You think so highly of moi~?” she said, opening an eye.
Mikoto cleared her throat. “Well. You are my peer, after all.”
Misaki smiled. “You know, I didn’t think I’d run into you today.”
Mikoto scratched her head. “Well that goes double for me.”
Misaki leaned her face on her fist and shifted her gaze to her. “Would you have rather not?”
“No!” Mikoto said. She felt a weakness in her lower back as she realized how loud she blurted out what she did. Misaki stared at her.
“Well, I’m glad.” Misaki smiled and closed her eyes.
“Ah…” Mikoto wasn’t sure what to say, and instead trailed her eyes along the room.
A moment of silence passed as Mikoto forgot to breathe and waited for her host to say something. “I’ve really sullied my gloves today,” Misaki said, staring at her hands. “I mean, it’s normal when you wear gloves and touch everything, but to stain food on them. How distasteful…”
“Here.” Mikoto said, reaching for her hand. She lightly pulled her right glove off, which caused Misaki’s brows to lift. Both her hands were on Misaki’s now naked hand.
“Your skin is so soft,” Mikoto said as she pressed her thumb to the blonde’s palm.
And in that instant Misaki’s face turned beet red. “Yes well, I aim to take good care of my well-being…” She looked away.
“Oh? You have a scar…” Mikoto said, gliding her thumb across a healed wound on the back of her hand.
“It’s from a long time ago,” Misaki said, turning to her with her free hand obscuring her lips.
“What-”
“It’s not important.”
“Well. I hope you’ll be able to tell me one day,” Mikoto said, flashing a stupid smile.
Misaki looked away again. What a stupidly cute expression. How could she show her reaction to that? After a brief pause Misaki looked to Mikoto’s legs. “I was running and fell. A branch punctured my glove and slashed me.”
“What were you running from?” Mikoto asked, scooting closer.
“Life.”
Mikoto sighed. “One step at a time.”
Misaki scoffed. “I bet you think you’re quite clever.”
“Well, maybe a little,” she said, not realizing she was still holding her hand. But Misaki was fine with it. In fact, it seemed she would rather not point it out, as she couldn’t remember the last time she felt anyone touch her hands.
“Ah, it’s getting dark out.”
“Oh…” Mikoto glanced to the window adjacent.
“You don’t have to leave,” she said.
Mikoto took a deep breath and turned to her. “Are you lonely?”
Once again Misaki’s face turned red, but this time she didn’t look away. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek to maintain focus.
“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’ll stay then,” she said, smiling at her friend.