Editing Toaru Majutsu no Index:RailgunSS3 Chapter1 (section)

===Part 11===

“Nn…”

In Tokiwadai Middle School’s grounds, Misaka Mikoto held one of her right hand’s fingers in her mouth while wearing short-sleeved gym clothes. Specifically, the fingertip where a small injury was covered by a bandage decorated with a frog mascot character.

She had practiced along with Shirai more than she maybe should have.

She did not want to hear any more classical music for quite a while.

(This hurts a fair bit, but not enough to keep me from running around campus.)

“Misaaaka-san.”

“…What is it, Shokuhou?”

While taking a short break and wiping the sweat from her brow with a microfiber towel, Misaka Mikoto turned around with an annoyed look in her eyes. She was in the middle of the exam for her elective. Shokuhou must have finished hers already. For some reason, she wore an apron over her uniform.

“Hold on. Eh? Are you serious? Don’t tell me you chose home ec!”

“I’m not great at it or anything. …I really just wanted the cooking ability to make my own bentos.”

Shokuhou Misaki had called out to Mikoto, but she was not looking that Ace’s way.

The Queen’s eyes were on the auditorium.

“I know I asked for your help ability and I know Sakibasu had to be taken down a peg given the situation, but I didn’t expect you to be so crafty.”

“What, did you use a remote to listen through one of your clique girls? And you of all people have no right to accuse someone else of being crafty.”

“Aren’t you worried how it will turn out?”

“I trust her to pull it off.”

Shokuhou sighed at that.

Shokuhou Misaki was the Queen of Tokiwadai’s largest clique. She had built up an immovable position with her incredible charisma and power. But she had gained a different kind of powerful connection through this strange bond linking her and Misaka Mikoto. And the strength of a bond was not determined by the number of people it linked.

“First of all, it’s ridiculous to have a violin test that only lasts three minutes. That’s just to make it easier on the teacher giving the test, right? I mean, you might be able to make it exciting if you skip straight to the climax and play that, but all songs – not just classical music – are one big drama using every part of the song from beginning to end. Classical music extends that over a longer running time, but none of it is unnecessary. Cobble together a highlights reel like something you’d find on a video site or aggregation site and the real essence of the song will be missing. You might inspire some brief emotion, but it can’t represent the entirety of the drama.”

“Is that why you wrote an original song that can be played from beginning to end in three minutes?”

“I doubt it’s better than Beethoven or Mozart, but that’s kind of the point.” Mikoto grinned. “Did you know that the Parthenon wasn’t originally white? Or that the Statue of Liberty wasn’t originally that greenish color? The flow of time is cruel and the original colors were weathered or rusted away. But it’s strange. There’s a part of us that finds beauty in what’s damaged, broken, or incomplete. Because it’s missing something or is broken, we see room for improvement. Jigsaw puzzles and model ships are the same. You enjoy the time spent fiddling with the countless pieces putting it together, but if they put the finished product up for sale in a shop, no one would consider buying it and hanging it on their wall.”

“That might be fine for gathering listeners in front of the train station, but this performance is being judged by a teacher with a trained ear for music.”

“That’s the point.”

Misaka Mikoto did not hesitate to respond.

This was not enough to defeat her.

“The song she’s playing might not be as ‘complete’, but each note played from the violin is accurate. There is no mistake in her technique, so there is no reason to lower her score. The song might be imperfect, but the performance is perfect. A trained teacher knows not to conflate the two, so I know she can judge the performance accurately. It had to be someone who understood the beauty of the white Parthenon that lost its color.”

No one could defeat the Stativarius Ainsel.

So they had used the combined power of everything other than that to overcome Sakibasu Yuri.

That was Shirai Kuroko’s basic plan. That was why she had analyzed the Stativarius’s sound, built her own handmade violin, constructed the optimum space using the autonomous sound reflection boards, prepared an original song that included a full drama in just three minutes, taken advantage of her own imperfection, and even included the music teacher’s trained ear in her plan.

But after all that, it ultimately came down to how much she had practiced. It was probably Misaka Mikoto’s involvement that had made sure Shirai Kuroko’s own effort was not overlooked.

It was only with that practice that everyone else’s assistance could bear fruit.

The Queen of the largest clique could give any command with a single TV remote, but Misaka Mikoto had a different way of assisting her underclassman. She had literally run around Academy City to gather the necessary theories, data, and materials, she had racked her brain with Shirai to come up with the plan, and she had spent long nights building the necessary tools so their ideas could become a reality.

Her right index finger had a frog mascot character bandage on it.

Assuming she had not attempted some unfamiliar cooking and screwed up, then she must have been doing something behind the scenes. Making the violin and the machines required more than just sending the design data to a 3D printer and pushing a button. Tools more dangerous than a kitchen knife had been necessary.

And that was not all.

She had likely gotten a blister on her finger when accompanying her underclassman during the intense violin practice and writing the original song could not have been easy either. She must have been worn down both physically and mentally, but that had not mattered to her even with the important exam on the horizon.

She was different from Shokuhou who always gave precise instructions from behind the scenes.

This girl chose to stand on the front line so she could shield everyone else.

That was Misaka Mikoto, Ace of Tokiwadai Middle School.

“…Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Nooo reason.”

Aproned Shokuhou Misaki brushed up her honey-blonde bangs with a look of partial exasperation.

The Queen spoke as the end-of-class bell rang.

The competition would be over now.

“The final judgment is made on the sound that reaches your ears, not the sound that leaves the instrument, hm? Do you see now why a violin acquired with extreme money ability can’t stand up to that, Sakibasu?”