A Certain Magical Index: The Primal Spirit Descends to My Side

The bathroom fell silent. Thick, stuffy steam rose from the hot water, each breath feeling like swallowing lukewarm water. Fine water droplets clung to the tiled walls, reflecting a faint light under the dim lamplight.

Water droplets gathered on the ceiling tiles, fell, and shattered on the wet floor. From the direction of the changing area came the low murmur of female customers talking and the soft clatter of wooden clogs, then the paper sliding door was pushed open and pulled closed again, and the footsteps gradually faded away.

Index paused her hand rubbing the back, the towel hanging in mid-air, water droplets sliding off its edge. She seemed to have said something shy, gently pressing her forehead against the gray-haired girl's back. A warm touch spread from her hair, carrying a faint, pleasant fragrance.

"Your skin is very nice too..." The gray-haired girl turned her head, a hint of inquiry in her eyes, "Warm and soft."

Index paused, her blush deepening in the steam. She lifted herself off the gray-haired girl's back, sat up straight, unsure what to do with her hands, finally clutching the towel tightly. "This...this isn't the time to talk about this!"

"But it's true."

The sudden praise left Index somewhat bewildered. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something in response, but the knowledge in her brain was useless at this moment. In the end, she could only squeeze out a small "thank you" and then continue with what she was doing.

The towel gently wiped the gray-haired girl's shoulder blades, spine, and sides, carefully and softly. Silence lasted for several minutes. Only the sound of running water filled the bathroom: water sliding down the walls, dripping from the showerhead, and gently swaying in the distant bathtub. These sounds layered upon each other, weaving a dense net that enveloped the two of them. The gray-haired girl spoke again.

"What if you just tell him directly?"

"Tell him what?"

"Tell him you don't want to be treated like a child."

She turned her head, her grey eyes appearing exceptionally clear in the steam, tears streaming down her hair that clung to her skin. "Tell him you want to stand on equal footing with him."

Index bit her lower lip. Tell Touma?

She could picture it. She could picture herself standing before him, looking up at his face, and saying those words. Just imagining it made her heart clench. It wasn't the fear of rejection; Touma shouldn't reject anyone, and that was precisely what troubled her most. He would smile and say, "I understand," then look at her with that childlike gaze, continuing to shield her behind him. He would protect her, as always, without hesitation, like protecting someone who needed protection.

"I..." she began, but didn't know what to say next. Her voice caught in her throat, as if blocked by heat and something heavier. She didn't know what to say, how to say it. Should she say, "Okay, I'll go talk to them"? Or should she say, "No, I can't do it"? Neither answer was right. Both answers sounded like an admission of something—an admission of her weakness, or an admission of her cowardice.

The gray-haired girl waited a moment. She wasn't the type to rush. She simply sat quietly, her back to Index. Water droplets slid down her spine, gathered at her waist, and continued down the line of her hips. Her breathing was steady and slow, her shoulders rising and falling slightly with each breath.

Seeing that she didn't speak further, the gray-haired girl gently stood up. Water droplets slid off her body, shattering into tiny specks in the dim light. She turned, her bare feet stepping onto the wet tile floor, and walked past Index to sit down behind her. Her movements were quiet and natural.

"It's my turn."

Index obediently turned around, her back to her. Her wet silver hair clung to her back, water dripping from the ends. The gray-haired girl picked up another clean towel, soaked it, wrung it out, and began to wipe Index's back.

Her movements were more clumsy than Index's, but exceptionally meticulous. The towel rubbed every inch of her skin with even and gentle pressure.

"Your back... has scars." The gray-haired girl's hand stopped rubbing her shoulder.

Index's body stiffened slightly.

The gray-haired girl's fingers gently traced the pale pink marks through the towel. She paused for a few seconds, then whispered, "They were left from that time."

Index didn't answer. She knew what she was referring to: the pursuit by the magic society, the evening of the attack, and the moment the gray-haired girl stepped in to shield her from the attack from behind.

"I'm sorry..." The gray-haired girl lowered her head deeply, her long gray hair falling behind Index, water droplets dripping from the strands.

Index was slightly taken aback.

"If I had been faster back then," her voice was different, her speech slower than usual, "you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Index bit her lip. She could feel the weight of the person behind her with their head bowed. Although she hadn't actually touched them, the heavy sense of apology was conveyed through the towel, through the air, through something more intangible. She shook her head, her silver, wet hair swaying with the movement, splashing water droplets everywhere.

"It wasn't your fault..." Her voice trembled slightly, but she tried to sound firm. "You saved me."

The gray-haired girl didn't reply, but continued to gently wipe the edges of the wounds with a towel, her movements even lighter than before, always avoiding the shoulder area.

"But it's healing..." she finally spoke, her voice regaining its usual calm, "just like you are now."

Index didn't know what the sentence meant, but something warm spread from where she touched it. It wasn't the temperature of hot water, but something else entirely.

"I..." Index opened her mouth, her voice trembling slightly, "I'm actually... scared."

The gray-haired girl didn't stop moving.

"I'm afraid that if I really demand equality, if I really insist on fighting alongside him... he'll get hurt." Index closed her eyes. "The world of magicians is dangerous; my very existence is dangerous. If I'm willful again, if he... because of my willfulness..."

She couldn't continue. Images flashed through her mind: the night Touma carried her on his back, his worried expression, his words of saving her despite being complete strangers.

The towel rested on her shoulder blade.

"So," the gray-haired girl's voice was calm and even, "you're angry not because he treats you like a child."

"It's because you treat yourself like a child."

Index suddenly opened her eyes.

"You believe you can only be protected, not protect others," she stated simply. "You believe your willfulness will cause harm. So you suppress your willfulness and accept the position of 'child.' That way, at least he won't be put in danger because of your choices."

The towel moved again, wiping Index's spine.

"But that's wrong. Touma Kamijou chose to protect you not because you're weak, but because he wanted to protect you. Just like you wanted to protect him."

Index sat there, stunned, hot water dripping from her hair and splashing onto her knees. The gray-haired girl finished drying her back, put the towel in the basin, and gently patted her shoulder: "All done."

Index didn't move. She looked down at her fingers. "I..." she murmured, "I don't know what to do."

The gray-haired girl sat down beside her, her shoulder gently touching hers. Both of their skin had a pale pink hue, as if soaked in hot water, and were almost translucent under the light.

"Then let's take a shower...let's take a shower first..."

Index turned to look at her. The gray-haired girl's face remained expressionless, but there was an almost gentle calm in her gray eyes.

"You can deal with your worries after you take a shower. For now, enjoy the hot water."

Index stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing. The laughter sounded particularly crisp in the quiet bathroom, attracting the attention of several guests nearby.

"You're right." Index stood up, water droplets rolling off her body. "I need to take a shower!"

She took the gray-haired girl's hand, and the two walked together toward the bath.

Index tested the water temperature first, then cautiously stepped in. The hot water instantly enveloped her entire body, the warmth seeping from her skin to her bones, causing her to let out a satisfied sigh. The gray-haired girl followed her in and sat beside her, the water level reaching their collarbones.

The rising steam blurred the view. In the distance, the hushed conversations of other guests, the sound of flowing water, and the occasional laughter drifted over. Everything was immersed in a slow, warm, and peaceful rhythm.

Index leaned against the edge of the bathtub, her eyes closed. Her silver hair floated on the water like scattered moonlight. The gray-haired girl followed suit, leaning down, her long gray hair rippling dark waves in the water.

A long time passed, or perhaps only a few minutes, but time seemed to slow down in the hot water…

"You call him Touma." The gray-haired girl looked at Index beside her and suddenly spoke up, asking the question she had wanted to ask for a long time.

Index opened her eyes.

"Touma Kamijou." The gray-haired girl pronounced the name completely, as if confirming something. "You call him Touma. Komoe-sensei calls him Touma-chan… Is that an abbreviation?"

She paused for a moment, her gray eyes reflecting the light on the water.

"Why?" Index was silent for a moment, as if recalling something or organizing her thoughts. Then, the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

"Because... it feels more intimate to call someone by their name, right?"

"name?"

"Yes, that's right, the name."

"But isn't Kamijou Touma's name Kamijou Touma?"

Index turned her head in confusion, and said as if stating a matter of common sense, "In Kamijou Touma, Kamijou is the surname, and Touma is the given name..."

"I see. So... is Index's 'X' a name too?" The gray-haired girl remembered the history book she had read before, which did indeed mention surnames.

"Um...that's not..." Index scratched her cheek awkwardly, "This is my English name..."

Index looked at the gray-haired girl in front of her, raised her hands and clapped them together as if to summarize something: "And...! 'Kamijo' sounds too far away. Touma... calling him that is like... him being right next to me."

The gray-haired girl listened quietly, as if trying to understand the meaning of what she was saying. After a few seconds, she softly hummed in agreement.

Seeing that she understood, Index was about to change the subject when she suddenly remembered something, and her eyes lit up: "Oh right! Teacher Xiaomeng said the bathhouse has coffee and milk!"

She climbed out of the bathtub, water droplets sliding down her body. Her steps faltered slightly on the slippery floor, but she quickly regained her balance. Sure enough, there was a vending machine next to the changing area, its light casting a warm yellow glow in the steam. She jogged over, took out the banknotes Touma Kamijou had given her, inserted them, and pressed the button.

Two cans of coffee milk spilled out. She picked them up, then jogged back and handed one to the gray-haired girl.

"Try it!" she said excitedly, opening the tab herself and taking a big gulp. The sweetness and coffee aroma melted in her mouth, mixed with the richness of the cream, and the cool liquid slid down her throat, miraculously blending with the heat of her body after the bath.

The gray-haired girl stared at the jar in her hand for a few seconds, then opened it as she did, carefully taking a sip. Her eyes widened slightly. It was an almost imperceptible change in expression, but Index noticed it.

"Is it good?" Index asked.

She nodded and took another sip. Then, looking at the jar, she said softly, "Iced."

"Right!" Index laughed, her emerald eyes sparkling in the steam. "It's not like English tea, and it's not like cappuccino... it tastes like a Japanese bathhouse!"

The two sat side by side in the bathtub, each holding a coffee and milk jug. The rising steam blurred their figures into soft outlines.

Index finished the last sip of her coffee milk and sighed contentedly. She turned to look at the gray-haired girl, who had also just finished and was staring at the empty can, as if studying its structure.

"It's about time we went back..." Index said, a hint of reluctance in her voice. The gray-haired girl nodded. The two climbed out of the bath together, rinsed themselves with water, dried themselves, and got dressed.

Stepping out of the bathhouse, a cool night breeze greeted her, yet the warmth of the hot water lingered deep within her. The streetlights were dim, and in the distance, she could see the windows of Tsukuyomi Komoe's apartment lit up. Index looked up at the light and suddenly whispered, "I'll tell him."

The gray-haired girl looked at her.

"Tell him I don't want to be treated like a child." Index clenched her fist, then relaxed it. "Tell him I want to stand on equal footing with him... even if it might worry him, even if it might bring him danger."

She paused, her voice growing firmer: "But this is my choice. As a nun, as Index… as his companion."

The gray-haired girl listened quietly, then reached out and gently squeezed her hand. "I support you."

Index turned to look at her, her emerald eyes sparkling like jewels in the night. Then she smiled. Unlike before, it was a genuine, untroubled smile.

"Yes!" She nodded vigorously. "Let's go home."

The two walked side by side down the street at night, coffee and milk in their hands. The lights of the apartment buildings in the distance grew closer, warm and bright, as if waiting for their return.