Toaru Majutsu no Index:GT Volume11 Chapter1
Chapter 1: The Other Side of the Ordinary – Hell,_Hades,_and_Gehenna.[edit]
Part 1[edit]
“…”
“…”
Silence.
After all, this was the Rosencreutz. How were you supposed to hold a conversation with the monster who single-handedly made a mess of Academy City!? It felt like being alone in a cramped elevator late at night with a man who had a prominent pompadour. The tension was intense. Kamijou was more friendly and welcoming to science, magic, and weirdos than most, but even he had his limits. Just walking alongside this man counted as an emergency in his book!
“Hm, hm♪ Oh, dear. Maybe I should have 🍴en some 🗾ese katsudon before I died.”
Kamijou heard a carefree voice.
The only smiling person here was Anna Kingsford as she walked a step ahead of him.
A great gale blew across the wasteland here, but she simply held her hat down with a hand like none of it mattered.
She even hummed a casual tune.
Kamijou really would have preferred to stick with that gentle and safe young woman who looked so soft in every aspect than to have anything to do with that dangerous man, but doing that would have meant turning his back to CRC. How could he do that? Wouldn’t that be just as suicidal as refusing to stick with the group and holing up in a room alone while a murderer lurked the halls of the mansion? It honestly terrified him!!!
“Don’t worry so much, boy.” The red-clad young man chuckled while stroking his beard. “This old man must also travel through hell, so at the very least I will not disturb your journey. They say all travelers could use a companion, don’t they? This old man has died, so now I must redo things. So let’s form the greatest all-star party and enjoy a picnic together!!”
“…”
Kamijou felt blue.
He sensed more to that man’s words, or he wasn’t sure how to interpret them. Regardless, each and every thing he said seemed to carry a deep and dangerous meaning!! The way he talked about a traveling companion with such a dark grin was terrifying!!!
“The ✝️ hell is shaped like a giant mortar,” said Kingsford without looking back.
She didn’t seem to mind.
Was she not afraid? Hadn’t Rosencreutz killed her once?
Or was being killed just the once a trivial matter to an expert who had transcended life and death?
This was unlike Aleister Crowley and Anna Sprengel, who were extraordinary magicians in their own right. Those two still clung to their lives and formulated their plans and strategies without giving up on living. So even if their skills were transcendent, Kamijou and others could predict their actions to an extent.
The Magic Gods like Othinus and High Priest had sacrificed their lives to master their paths, but it was their understanding of how valuable a life was that allowed them to make such great use of their own.
But this woman lacked that, so she could casually cross the boundary between life and death.
She could leave and return.
That was Anna Kingsford.
Doing things normally and ordinarily in these circumstances was in fact extremely bizarre.
“The shape of hell is ❌ so much like a 🌕 crater as it is like what you’ll see if you search for an image of open-pit mining. Each level is like another step, with the levels growing narrower as they go down, with the very bottom converging on a single point.”
Kamijou heard the clinking sounds of hard objects colliding. Rather than plastic, this was the high-pitched and dangerous sound of glass or crystal.
Rosencreutz held something like a clear jigsaw puzzle in his hand.
“This was originally a single card.”
The jumble of pieces refused to fit together, their contours constantly bumping together.
It looked the full shape would be…a V?
No, a mortar.
But when viewing a cross-section from the side, it may have resembled a deep canyon.
Although it appeared to be glitching and refused to function.
“My miniature model of the world recreates all phenomena within itself, thus gathering all phenomena relating to the world’s past, present, and future in my hand. However, it does not seem to work with the realm of hell which is found outside the world.”
Regardless, Kamijou and the others were at the very top of the mortar, on the outermost edge.
Hell was spacious.
They were supposed to be pulling a jailbreak, but where were they supposed to go and what were they supposed to do?
“Like I 💬, hell is shaped like a giant mortar or like an inverted pyramid.”
Kingsford poked the broken model with a smile.
Those two were both experts.
The location was hell.
All things considered, this was one hell of a roadside chat.
“By 👣ing all the way around each level, we should find a stairway or slope leading down to the next level.”
“Hmph. I doubt that’s all we will find.”
CRC boredly poked his finger at the V-shaped miniature model(?) floating in front of his face to guide a stray piece toward the whole.
“This hell is a mixture of a few different ideas. There is no accurate model, so there is no correct path. We might suddenly wind up in the Buddhist Eight Great Hells or in the Shinto Yomotsu Hirasaka. In fact, if we go waltzing down there, thinking we know the answer, we might just run into a dead end.”
“I am aware of that.”
Kingsford and Rosencreutz looked Kamijou’s way at the same time.
He didn’t understand it.
Feeling like an outsider, the idiot had been only half-listening, waiting for the experts to arrive at an answer, so he panicked now.
“Wh-what? Me?”
“In this case, I expect he will be the 🗝️. Our view will mostly be the Western conception of hell, but he is 🗾ese and will think of the Eastern conception of hell, ruled by Lord Enma and full of 👹.”
“If we’re lucky. How are we supposed to predict what we’ll run across if he’s thinking of the ‘demon world’ shown on some trading card? This old man’s miniature model of the world is only meant to reproduce the past, present, and future of the real world. It can’t do the same for a purely fictional story.”
Kamijou didn’t like what he was hearing.
Apparently he had leveled up from dead weight to a ticking time bomb.
“Also, do ❌ lose the sense that you do ❌ belong.”
“?”
“Traveling through hell is all well and good, but you must ❌ let it influence you too much. This is only a temporary place for you. If you plant roots too deep, you will ❌ be able to return. Just think of it as a good-luck charm to help our jailbreak succeed.”
That made sense.
He doubted he could ever feel at home in hell, but how long would that last? Who keeps company with the wolf will learn to howl. The Japanese language contained multiple phrases to that same end, which suggested everyone knew it could happen. Kamijou had a feeling the Japanese were especially prone to just going with the flow. Like how everyone complained about global warming while gradually getting used to the higher temperatures.
But.
“Okay, I get the idea, but what exactly am I supposed to avoid doing? I’m not sure how I can avoid it if you don’t tell me what the ‘land mines’ are.”
“There is ❌ way to know how many there are in all.”
Wait.
“Wouldn’t the simplest examples be eating or drinking the food and drink of hell?” said Rosencreutz.
“What about looking back?”
“In the story of Orpheus stealing back his wife, he had promised Hades he would not look back until he had left hell. We just have to hope we do not run afoul of any rules we can break without first making a promise.”
“Um.”
Kamijou wanted them to slow down.
Weren’t there any more obvious “land mines” like kicking a jizo statue on the side of the road or eating a grave offering? Now he was more worried then ever he would step on one without realizing it!
Kingsford gently placed a hand on her cheek and looked his way.
“It should go without 💬ing that hell does not play fair.”
“Ugh.”
“But at the same ⏱️, hell is meant to make sinners suffer, not to apply violence indiscriminately.”
In that sense, was hell better than the overly passionate and indiscriminate stories of being chased through the school all night long after happening to see a ghost there or finding a strange woman waiting at an intersection?
The idea of only the properly judged sinners being chosen for punishment was very different from the 2-hour summer ghost story specials on TV where the suffering dead would grab at anyone and everyone to drag them down to hell with them. In Japanese horror, it was more the fresh and still-living souls that would gather around.
But…
“We were in fact properly judged and sent to hell. Not this young lady who cheated her way here, but I doubt you or this old man will be awarded that luxurious mystery prize.”
“Ugh!!”
Kamijou had forgotten he had wound up in hell the ordinary way.
But at least he would be less hesitant to escape from a gloomy and torturous hell than from a heaven where all his wants were fulfilled.
He could become bound to hell.
There were taboo actions hidden in the scenery around him.
Without knowing the exact conditions, he couldn’t predict when or where he might step on a “land mine”. It was possible one wrong move was all it took, but he decided to assume the danger grew the longer he remained in hell. Like how the danger of Russian roulette grew with each consecutive round.
“☠️ing and being killed in hell are ❌ problem. What you need to 👀 out for is becoming bound to hell. Keep that in 🧠.”
“Watch that you do not cling to hell, boy.”
Kamijou decided to assume hell was always hostile.
And that it would pull out all the stops on violence and deception.
He heard a rustling sound.
He turned toward it and saw something there.
A muscular macho man with a bull’s head was carrying a humongous axe.
Was this a random encounter!? What were the “land mines” he had to avoid here? Was he really supposed to keep going without knowing the rules of hell!?
“Hey, wait, wh-what is this all of a sudden!?”
“Good question. A Greek harpy or minotaur as a gatekeeper is a very odd thing for a Christian-based hell.”
“That is not what I meant! Quit grinning at me like thaaaaaaaat!!!”
Even as Kamijou shouted, he clenched his right fist.
Would that help here?
Did he even still have Imagine Breaker now that he was dead? And even if he did, he had no clue if it would work against that mountain of muscle!!
The minotaur was a bipedal and muscular monster standing what looked to be 3m tall. It raised an ultra-heavy axe that rivaled the minotaur itself in size. The wind roared as the air was compressed. That axe had the unmistakable weight and glint of steel. At the very least, the weapon part didn’t look like an illusion.
Oh, I might be screwed.
Just as that thought came to the spiky-haired boy, Anna Kingsford and Christian Rosencreutz each took a step forward. The two experts both waved their right index finger.
Casually.
The great mountain of muscle was sliced through diagonally down from each shoulder, forming an X-shape.
The minotaur didn’t seem to have any weight. Instead of its pieces falling to the ground, they turned to thin shadows and vanished into nothingness.
The two experts didn’t seem to care much.
“That should do it. Since we have descended from earth to hell, the heaven-to-earth format of the Sephiroth needed to be replaced with the Qliphoth, but it worked out well enough. It would seem magic is still functional even in hell.”
“Sigh. There really should ❌ have been a minotaur at this shallow a level. A world of 🧠 images must be more easily influenced than I thought.”
Kamijou had no words.
One was an expert of good, the other was the opposite.
They really were on a level far beyond Kamijou Touma’s understanding.
Part 2[edit]
They continued through the dark hell.
Hell as a whole was supposedly shaped like mortar, but it looked like their goal was to continue downwards. Kamijou didn’t know his way around, so he had no choice but to follow Kingsford. He wanted to avoid getting lost and ending up alone with the Rosencreutz.
(Also…)
His right hand.
Did it still have any power, or not?
He tried touching his palm to a nearby black rock.
Inconclusive.
The rock was a rock, but it showed no sign of disappearing. He couldn’t say for sure what that meant. He was only sure of one thing: he was probably making a fool of himself.
For his next test, he tried touching Rosencreutz.
“O-oh?”
No change.
Why wouldn’t that man just disappear?
Then again, Kingsford had suffered no ill effects from him taking her hand.
Even so, he couldn’t be certain about Imagine Breaker unless he saw something be unnaturally destroyed. Like maybe that unnecessarily long beard.
“Wh-why are you suddenly flirting with this old man? O-oh, my. Someone help! This boy is a molester!”
A touch from his right hand proved nothing.
And he had another question.
“What did you mean about hell being influenced?”
He meant the question for Kingsford, but Rosencreutz answered (while trembling for some reason).
“Ultimately, it is possible god didn’t give all that much thought to hell compared to heaven. It is described in Revelation, but modern people are as influenced by hymns and Paradise Lost as they are by the Bible and academic books.”
“Is it really that vague? I mean, aren’t heaven and hell a pretty core or root part of the entire mythology?”
“Tartarus, Niflheim, the Eight Great Hells, Yomi, and all other ideas of the realm of the dead are no more than phases placed on top of the physical world. But once you enter one, you can never return to the basic physical world.”
That made it sound like this was found alongside the ordinary streets and parks, just behind a thin layer of reality. That was hard to believe while seeing it from the hell side.
“Also, everyone views hell differently. The 16th century Dutch view gives the demons of hell an opposition party and a master accountant – that is, a treasurer in charge of the demonic kingdom’s finances.”
“In that system, the supposedly wild and vicious 👿s did ❌ have free use of 💷.”
“But no matter how many conceptions of hell you consider, you will never find one that is correct. Which is why you can’t exactly be angry about the inclusion of non-biblical ideas.”
In other words, anything goes.
In that case, why couldn’t this be a hell with a tiny silver-haired and horned goth loli demon lord seated in an oversized throne and full of succubi in the kind of sexy underwear that makes it look like they lost a bet? The Transcendents who cosplayed as gods and demons had the Bologna Succubus, didn’t they!? That meant the original sexy young woman she was based on had to exist as a “species” in some world myth! There, he had an excuse!! Now he could finally transform this horrific hell into a wonderful picnic!!!
“Boy, you assume the Western hell is crawling with demons, don’t you? In truth, hell is managed by angels like Uriel, Kushiel, Anafiel, and Mastema. Hell is not a lawless realm of demons – it is a part of the omniscient and omnipotent god’s plan for all parts of the world from heaven to hell. A place where humans have their souls removed and laundered after they make a deal with the devil? That is no more than an idea created by folklore and fiction.”
“…”
Had it already been influenced that much?
The majority of Kamijou’s knowledge came from video games, so he was completely out of luck.
He could at least pick up that he wasn’t going to find a tiny silver-haired and horned goth loli demon lord seated in an oversized throne or any succubi in the kind of sexy underwear that makes it look like they lost a bet. Apparently this was a place bound by more serious rules than that. Was he allowed to despair yet? What fun was a hell like this!? Supposedly this was what god had created as part of his plan, but what kind of loving god would create that bull-head minotaur instead of a busty loli in a cow print bikini (who was actually super strong)!!!???
Maybe it was wrong to be looking for fun in hell.
The idea of the good guys managing hell reminded Kamijou of Lord Enma.
Kingsford laughed.
“But this vagueness can be exploited. We can manipulate this hell with our 🧠 images.”
Manipulate hell.
Kamijou knew better than to think it was really that simple.
That was a miracle only possible with the help of monsters like Christian Rosencreutz and Anna Kingsford. If an ordinary person wandered into this undefined hell, they would wander endlessly through the nightmarish world without any hope of finding their bearings, until they were so worn down their soul itself was snuffed out.
(I need to be careful. Who knows what we could come across from here on.)
They had already seen a minotaur.
It was easy to overlook thanks to the two experts, but if Kamijou had been alone, he was certain he would have been helplessly pummeled to death.
As the three of them continued walking through the shadows while a wind blew through, two rising shapes came into view in the distance.
(Are those mountains?)
Kamijou tried to ask that aloud, but his throat suddenly went dry and the words never came out.
He had a bad feeling about this.
But what was it this time? A hell of precipitous mountains or a hell of fire and ice? Since this was hell, he doubted whatever it was would be any fun. He honestly wanted to stop and assess what they were approaching, but Rosencreutz and Kingsford plowed on ahead.
“Hey, wait…”
“Nothing good will come of 🛑ing.”
“This is hell, after all.”
The spiky-haired boy had no choice but to keep up with them. He wasn’t even remotely emotionally ready, but being left alone in these shadows would be far worse.
As Kamijou Touma reluctantly approached the two mystery mountains, their shape gradually came into view.
He was speechless.
The two towering shapes were a pair of enormous breasts.
“Um!?”
The spiky-haired boy collapsed on the spot.
Supposedly, their thoughts could influence hell, but it was obvious whose thoughts were at work here. Because the other two were serious, expert-level magicians! And while he really didn’t want to accept it, those colossal boobs were very clearly contained in a swimsuit!!
It couldn’t be more obvious what Kamijou Touma had been looking at to put that image in his mind.
That swimsuit was very familiar.
Plus, there was only one woman in the group.
The glasses woman walking right there was wearing a racing swimsuit! And she was more casual about it than the people at a Los Angeles beach! The shape, the firmness, and the way they seemed ready to swell right out of the swimsuit were all identical to that gentle woman!!
(This is hell.)
The teenager wanted to die of embarrassment, but he wasn’t even allowed that.
Because Kamijou Touma was already dead.
He felt like his spine was twisting and his entire body was itching, but all he could do was shed tears of blood and clench his teeth.
Intentionally manipulating hell was apparently ultra-high-level magic, but uncontrollably influencing it appeared to be a different story.
(This really is hell!! Just standing here is damaging me more than any demon ever could!!!)
“Oh, dear. Oh, my, my, my.”
Anna Kingsford placed a hand on her cheek and gave a wonderfully elegant smile. There was no bitterness in it. And even that action was enough to cause some jiggling. Kamijou would have preferred it if she yelled at him and zapped him. The unconcerned deflection of his teenage desire was far more painful. Why couldn’t she at least rebuke him?
Christian Rosencreutz stared into the middle distance.
He appeared to understand.
“If you ask this old man, the blame lies in the careless woman who chose to dress like that and jiggle everywhere.”
“N-now this is true misfortune. I can’t believe I’m getting pity from a weirdo like him…”
Kamijou hung his head and trembled with humiliation.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at the colossal boobs that symbolized his sin. He wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible. That was the only thing driving him as he somehow managed to get his legs moving again. They did choose to avoid the mystery boob mountains because they had no idea what kind of powerful enemies or traps might be waiting there.
Once Kamijou had finally shaken free of his past mistake, he managed to look out ahead again.
He saw a pair of mountains.
Of jiggling fruits.
Together, they formed a colossal butt.
“………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………My what is colossal?”
She came to a stop.
While still smiling. The dense pressure radiating from the glasses woman was intense. Kamijou hung his head and couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. Apparently Anna Kingsford was the type to overlook a first mistake but never a second. Her warmth with the boobs had vanished.
But this was the same.
The shape, the firmness, the way the swimsuit rode up into it.
She was wearing a pareo over it, but he could tell! Because it occasionally swept backwards or blew upwards!!
CRC came to the teenager’s defense.
He roared with unclouded eyes.
“Put some clothes on before you scold the boy!! This old man is taking the boy’s side. Heh heh, ha ha ha ha ha! Why are you wearing so little over your enormous breasts and butt when this isn’t even a midsummer beach!? Gweh heh heh! Are you so unsatisfied you felt the need to seduce the poor boy!!?”
“Stop pouring oil on the fire for your own entertainment!! I’m the one who will catch all the flak for it!!” shouted Kamijou, bristling.
He took it all back. Rosencreutz might be able to enjoy himself since he was a monster, but they were up against an expert like Kingsford here. What would that curvy woman do if she got mad? A single “eek, pervert!” slap would snap Kamijou’s neck and send his head flying from his shoulders. And what happened to him if he lost his head in hell where he was already dead!?
“Boy, if you let safe and peaceful sex appeal rule the conversation, you might just be able to prevent a truly dangerous threat from rearing its ugly head.”
“Don’t give me an out, CRC. I might try to take it.”
Then the boy tried to change the subject.
While looking up at the colossal swimsuit butt.
“So what do we do now?”
The terrain wasn’t going to change into a brutal dungeon whenever he got hungry or tired and wanted a break, was it? Kamijou was worried. He only had a vague understanding of it, but wasn’t gluttony one of the Seven Deadly Sins that often appeared as bosses in video games?”
Part 3[edit]
Hell continued on and on.
They kept trudging along.
The place was apparently shaped like a bowl, but how many levels did it have in all? The clear jigsaw puzzle-like pieces of CRC’s miniature model were still clinking against each other without fitting together, so they could see the overall shape but not their exact position.
“Phew.”
After walking for a while, an odd thought occurred to Kamijou.
Hell was a dark, unpleasant place crawling with dangerous monsters. But when he just stood there, he didn’t feel any strong rejection to being there, like the intense pain or suffering of being in a fire or underwater.
He more felt an emptiness or blandness.
He had a vague idea staying here for too long would be a bad idea, but there were times when he wondered if coming to stop was really such a big problem.
If there was no immediate danger, was there any need to hurry on like this?
“Not wanting to die is a perfectly normal thing for living people,” said Rosencreutz as he walked nimbly alongside Kamijou. “That is because their instincts bind them there as long as they remain alive. Like the proverbial drowning man grasping at straws, their instincts will generally overpower their rational mind. Even if they have no dreams or hopes for the future, everyone knows dying is painful and frightening. So even without a reason to live, they will not want to die. Living people are fixed in that state.”
“Fixed?”
“Indeed. But the same is not true of the dead,” continued CRC, viewing a few unsteady shadows passing by in the darkness up ahead. “Because once they lose their life, they are freed from the bonds – the instincts – of life. Boy, do you have a dream for the future? Or a hope? Now that you are dead, you cannot rely on the ordinary instincts of a living being. Which means if you are to live, you must find an answer with your rational mind.”
“You mean…?”
“You can no longer rely on the lazy delaying factor of not dying simply because you do not want to die. Your values and definitions have changed since you were alive. For the dead, being dead is the default state, so it is a very painful thing to wish strongly to return to life no matter what it might take. You must find a purpose equally strong to the purposes that motivate the living to accept death.”
Before, he hadn’t died because he hadn’t wanted to die.
To overcome that required the willpower to sit down below the water and keep yourself there until your breathing stopped and death arrived.
Now, he didn’t live because he didn’t want to live.
How much willpower would it require to overcome that?
Was the pain and suffering of fighting his current “state of being” what Kingsford had meant by making a jailbreak from hell?
“…”
Kamijou stopped breathing.
Nothing felt wrong.
It wasn’t pleasant. He felt the pain of not breathing, but nothing more than that. He wasn’t afraid. He felt like he could keep doing this indefinitely as long as he didn’t decide to stop.
Did he have a powerful enough purpose?
Did he have a dream for the future? Did he have any hopes he wanted to ensure came true? Of course he wasn’t going to find anything like that. He was a 1st year in high school, so he wouldn’t be preparing for college or trying to find a job anytime soon.
He had always thought he didn’t want to die.
But he had accepted death to save Alice Anotherbible.
He had pushed himself to the limit.
And he really had died.
…It all made perfect sense. So what was there to complain about? Sure, dying was normally considered a painful thing, but he had taken that journey to accomplish what had to be done. And he had done it. So why should he keep fighting, keep struggling, and cling to the material world now that he was a ghost or a soul?
Attachment?
- Regrets?
- Or a grudge even?
Did he really have something like that in his heart?
“Oh, dear. It seems this bland hell has affected you faster than I 💭.”
“Affected?”
“🎯.”
Kamijou frowned and Kingsford nodded without turning toward him.
She spoke casually.
“That is how hell works. It removes one’s regrets about and ⛓️ to the world of the living so they will eternally wander this world of punishment. Thus, what you are feeling was ❌ born within you. You must ❌ let this false resignation deceive you. That is only the great device known as hell externally manipulating you. In a most efficient and effective manner.”
“But…”
Kamijou was hesitant to speak.
Like he was ashamed by the emptiness within him.
“Rosencreutz was right. You will normally grasp at straws when drowning. Because you can’t breath. But what if you don’t breath? Do you need to grasp at the straws then? If you can remain below the water without issue, why would you need to swim up to the distant surface? I am dead. That’s a fact. I have no dreams for the future. I can’t think of any reason why I would want to go to such lengths to come back to life.”
“❌.”
Kamijou himself couldn’t come up with anything, but Kingsford had an answer immediately.
An expert never made mistakes.
“You do, Kamijou Touma. You must clench your 🦷, crawl through the mud, and do whatever else it takes to escape hell and return to the world of the living. You have an all too obvious reason.”
“?”
Kamijou didn’t understand.
Anna Kingsford pointed her index finger to the side and moved it in a circle.
What kind of trick was she using?
A girl sat below a spotlight there. A silver-haired green-eyed girl in a white nun’s habit with gold embroidery decorating it like a fancy teacup.
What had that expert just done!?
“Wha-? That’s…Index?”
Kamijou’s eyes widened, but Christian Rosencreutz simply looked bored. Apparently this wasn’t worthy of surprise for another expert.
“Hmph. Made a connection, did you? But it’s only a pinhole.”
“Well, yes. The Qliphoth is a 🗺️ of the entire realm of 👻s and curses, but it is also an access route from hell to earth.”
That didn’t explain much for Kamijou.
But below the unseen surface, some kind of rules and laws must have fit together. Hell hadn’t counted this as a violation, but it sure seemed like a cheat or a loophole to Kamijou.
More importantly, that was Index.
Kamijou and Rosencreutz’s presence made sense – they were dead. But what was she doing here? Hadn’t Kingsford said this was hell – a destination for the dead!?
“Index!!”
“She can ❌ hear you. This is much like 👁️ing out through your front 🚪’s peephole.”
“Also, she isn’t here. You’re only spying on another territory located far from here. The world is made up of countless overlapping phases, but the distance between each phase is unimaginably great.”
“This is a different place. If you wish to open the 🚪 to meet her, you must first escape from this hell.”
“…”
Index wasn’t in hell.
That was a relief, at least.
He hesitantly reached out for her slender shoulder with his right hand, but stopped partway through the action. He didn’t know whether or not he still had Imagine Breaker, but negating this image of Index would be more than his heart could bear.
Maybe it was only an image, but he had finally seen Index again.
After he wasn’t even able to say goodbye.
“Touma…”
It felt like forever since he had heard that voice.
He relished the sound for just a moment. Because he had thought he would never hear it again.
But…
“Why did you have to die?”
He froze.
Index was seated on the ground and didn’t raise her head.
She looked anything but happy.
But wait.
Kamijou could accept his own death, but what did this mean for Index? She had been living in his dorm room. So had Othinus. He hadn’t seen Anna Sprengel since that time in the hospital, but she hadn’t even had a temporary place to stay.
And this wasn’t limited to the magic side.
He also had friends on the science side – in Academy City.
“How could I just let him die like that? And I call myself Academy City’s #3? I never even thanked that idiot. Not even for saving all my sisters!!”
This time, the image was of Misaka Mikoto.
She was hanging her head and her voice had no strength to it.
And it wasn’t just that special Level 5. He should have started the third school term like normal after the final day of winter break, but now he wouldn’t be able to see any of his classmates.
What about New Board Chairman Accelerator? He had directed all of Academy City’s forces against CRC because he bet on Kamijou winning. He had apparently been defeated by Trismegistus and taken out of the fight when Alice arose as a threat afterwards, but he had still bet on the city prevailing. He had trusted the rest of the city could solve the problem without him.
How had all that turned out in the end?
“We were classmates. Of course I just assumed you’d be here. …What do you mean I can never see you ever again, Kami-yan?”
“Everyone, please gather in the gym first thing that day. Sob. We will be heading out to the funeral afterwards, so the opening ceremony is going to take up the full half day.”
The mood in the classroom was bleak.
One desk stood out from the rest by having no one sitting in it.
Those classmates were seeing each other for the first time since before the break. They had to have plenty they wanted to share, but not one of them was smiling. They were all turning emotionless eyes toward the empty seat.
“…”
This wasn’t right.
Kamijou had an extremely bad feeling. Like realizing he had buttoned his shirt up wrong. Or like he had turned in a test with supreme confidence, but then couldn’t remember if he had actually written his name on it.
He was satisfied with his death.
But…had he actually thought that through?
And.
And.
And.
The last person to appear in the spotlight was Alice Anotherbible. The girl who had used herself as the ingredients to remake herself. The girl Kamijou had risked his one and only life to save.
But something wasn’t right.
Her head was lowered. Her shoulders were slumped. She wasn’t looking out ahead. Left all alone in an uninteresting world, she couldn’t bring herself to go anywhere.
What had happened to her?
“Al-”
But Kamijou Touma couldn’t speak to her.
Just before he tried, she whispered to herself.
“Teacher died.”
Kamijou’s shoulders shook.
He froze in place.
Her voice was void of all emotion. She sounded worn down. Like her life, her soul, or some other intangible something had critically worn away. She seemed in an even worse state than Kamijou who had wound up in hell.
Something felt intensely wrong to Kamijou.
He had made the right choice…he thought.
He had saved Alice.
He had seen no option except to sacrifice his life.
And he had succeeded, hadn’t he?
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling.
He looked back at his choice over and over, confirming he had done the right thing, but the anxiety wouldn’t leave him.
He felt like he had missed some crucial fact, like he thought he had followed the bungee jump instructor’s directions flawlessly, but then, just before he jumped, he saw the other end of his lifeline dangling down, not connected to anything.
“The girl killed him. She shouldn’t have hoped he would save her. If only she hadn’t thought about making up with him. If the girl didn’t exist, none of this would have happened.”
She burned with resentment.
But it wasn’t directed at Kamijou who had died and left the stage, satisfied.
That girl was pure, innocent, and honest.
So.
That resentment was directed entirely at Alice Anotherbible.
She could no longer forgive herself.
“It’s all the girl’s fault. She is a murderer. …The girl wishes she had never been born.”
There wasn’t even noise.
Only an endless span of pure silence.
“No…”
Kamijou was trembling.
He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.
“No!! Are you kidding me with this!? This isn’t what I gave up my life to see! Was it all a waste…? I sacrificed my life and it still wasn’t enough!? I mean, Alice did nothing wrong. I chose to sacrifice my life. I’m satisfied with my choice. So why should Alice blame herself!?”
“But your 🗣️ can ❌ reach her.”
With that simple statement, Kingsford shook her head.
“If you look at just the objective and mechanical facts, Alice Anotherbible gave a ☠️ly wound to Kamijou Touma. …That is the whole of it. She ☠️ed you. The truth has a way of being omitted. Without you there to 💬 it was your strong willpower that burned away your life, the feelings behind the event have no way of reaching anyone. They can ❌ reach the 🌍 at large which burns with misguided accusations and they can ❌ reach little Alice who you tried to save.”
“But…”
“As things are, the mechanical fact that Alice Anotherbible ☠️ed Kamijou Touma is all that will remain. There is ❌ time. And if she accepts the plain and simple abbreviation as the truth, Alice herself will be crushed under its weight. She will believe she is a ☠️er who is ❌ allowed happiness. She will 🪤 herself in that mistaken definition and reduce her own value.”
“…”
“Do you want to 👁️ her carry the burden of your ☠️ and choose for herself to fall? A meaningless fall taking her all the way to these depths?”
Of course not.
It was so easy for the one who died.
He could experience satisfaction in his accomplishment and die. End of story.
But what about the one who killed him?
Was it easier for the victim or the killer? Kamijou had no way of determining that. But at the very least, Kamijou Touma was the satisfied victim while Alice had been made into the killer against her will. He didn’t even need to wait for Kingsford to say more. Why had he been so smugly certain he had saved her all on his own? This wasn’t right at all!!
What exactly had he done?
He had discovered a girl who had been wandering for so long, unable to seek out help. But instead of saving her, he had bloodied her hands and placed the crime of murder on her head.
That wasn’t her crime.
It had been Kamijou’s plan.
He had made the choice all on his own. She had never agreed to any of it.
So…
So why did she have to be crushed by his selfish actions!?
Anna Kingsford was always correct.
Which was why she was known as an expert.
“What will you do?”
“…”
A dull thud rang out.
Kamijou Touma had slammed his right fist into his own cheek.
The boy used the back of his hand to wipe the taste of blood from his lips.
For the living, being alive was the default state. For the dead, being dead was the default state. A dead person trying to force themselves back to life required just as much willpower as a living person keeping themselves underwater until they drowned.
That was probably true.
Kamijou had no job he wanted in the future and no dream he wanted to achieve. He didn’t even know if he wanted to get a job after high school or continue on to college.
But this was wrong.
It was wrong.
“Are you kidding me?”
He had done everything he could to save Alice Anotherbible, the girl who had wandered the wide world all alone and decided to destroy it all. He had accepted that maybe he had no choice but to lose his one and only life to accomplish that goal.
But what if it didn’t end with his death?
What if he hadn’t actually saved anyone?
What if his death had been wasted, or even made things worse? What if his final choice had only dragged Alice even deeper down toward the depths of hell?
Then he had to start by destroying that illusion.
Kamijou Touma clenched his right fist as hard as he could.
He raised his lowered head to stare straight ahead. So he could accurately view the exit from hell.
He felt real strength once more.
Part 4[edit]
No compromise.
He would challenge reality, surpass reality, and return to reality.
