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

It was 7:40 PM, and the sky wasn't completely dark yet. Unlike the early nights of autumn and winter, the late summer evening still held a faint glow. A dim blue hue enveloped the sky, with a few gray-white clouds drifting in the distance. Touma Kamijou stood on his dormitory balcony, watching the long, gray-white-haired girl emerge from the night.

Her pace was unhurried, as if she had just returned from a walk. The girl didn't even look up to observe, yet in an instant she saw him standing on the balcony. She stopped and tilted her head slightly.

"Touma..."

She called his name. In the same tone. Flat, like reciting a newly learned word. But today, there seemed to be something more in her voice. So softly, so softly, that Kamijou almost didn't hear it.

It's temperature.

Kamijou Touma suddenly didn't know what to say.

So much happened today. I woke up to a pile of books, only to find that Index and this guy weren't in their room. I rushed back to the dorm and spent the morning catching up on my homework. Index came back to tutor me in math, and then the white-haired girl disappeared without a word all afternoon. Touma wanted to go look for her, but Index said she was just "going out for some fresh air" and told him not to worry.

But how could I not worry?

He'd been thinking about one thing all day, something he'd been pondering since yesterday. It started when he carried Index, covered in blood, to Ms. Xiaomeng's house. It started when he had to leave the room and hand Index over to someone else for treatment. It started when he ran wildly through the streets, feeling like a hypocrite.

He kept thinking about it.

He wondered why he was doing these things, and what he was capable of doing. He wondered why this girl, whom he had picked up from the alley and didn't even know the name of, had followed him and told him in that calm voice that it wasn't hypocrisy.

"you……"

Kamijou opened his mouth. He wanted to ask, "Where did you go today?", "Why did you comfort me like that?", and "Why did you go out today?"

But what he said in the end was something else entirely.

Are you hungry?

The gray-haired girl blinked. Something in those gray eyes gleamed slightly.

"Hungry."

She said the word in the exact same tone as when she called his name—flat and matter-of-fact. But Kamijou noticed that her lips pursed slightly after she finished speaking, as if confirming something.

Student dormitory kitchens are generally very small, with the entire room being no more than eight tsubo (approximately 3.3 square meters). Touma Kamijou stood in front of the stove, slicing the discounted beef he had bought yesterday into thin slices. The sound of the knife blade hitting the cutting board echoed repeatedly. He sliced ​​slowly because the grain of the beef was not very regular; that's how discounted beef is—you have to cut diagonally along the grain, otherwise it will be tough.

There was half a cabbage, two scallions, and a box of tofu in the fridge. Just enough to make a pot of sukiyaki. Index ate his last bag of potato chips while tutoring him in math that afternoon, so there was nothing else in the fridge now.

The gray-haired girl sat at the dining table, quietly watching him chop vegetables.

She was watching intently. Not in a daze where her gaze happened to fall on his hand, but genuinely observing, her eyes following the blade, occasionally tilting her head slightly, as if studying how he held the sword. Kamijou felt her gaze on the back of his hand, and it tickled a little.

The gas stove was lit. The iron pot was heated up, and the slices of beef were put in, making a "sizzle" sound.

"Touma."

"Um?"

"Why beef?"

"Because it's on sale."

Why is it on sale?

"Because it's almost expired."

What is an expiration date?

Touma Kamijou paused. He turned around.

She was intently staring at the beef in the pot, her gray eyes reflecting the light of the stove fire. Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. This was the expression of someone with a thirst for knowledge, and Touma Kamijou had somehow learned to recognize this expression on her face.

He knew she wasn't pretending, nor was she joking. She genuinely didn't know the concept of an "expiration date," just as she didn't know her own name.

"It's just..." Kamijou thought for a moment, carefully choosing his words, "...the timeframe during which food is safe to eat. After that time, it might spoil, and eating it could make you sick."

"It's broken."

Her eyebrows twitched. Not furrowed, but slightly moved inwards, as if she were trying to understand the meaning of the word.

"Yes. Food has a life of its own; it will die if left out too long. And when it dies, it will rot."

The gray-haired girl was silent for a moment. Kamijou saw her eyelashes droop slightly, then slowly lift again. Her gray eyes first looked at the beef in the pot, then moved to his face.

"So it's not dead yet."

"right."

"So it's okay to eat it."

"right."

She nodded, a very small gesture, just a slight nod. But Kamijou saw that her brows relaxed, and her lips were no longer pursed, but had returned to their calm curve.

Kamijou turned back to continue cooking. He seared the beef until both sides were browned and the edges were slightly charred, releasing a fragrant aroma of oil. He added cabbage and tofu, poured in the prepared sauce, and covered the pot. The aroma quickly filled the entire kitchen.

Even Index, who had been watching TV, kept glancing at the screen. The silver-haired nun peeked out from in front of the TV, her nose twitched, but when she saw the gray-haired girl sitting next to her, she shrank back and continued watching TV.

The kitchen was quiet for a while. The only sounds were the bubbling soup in the pot and the low-pitched sound of a variety show on the television.

"Touma."

The gray-haired girl's voice came from behind. It was different from her tone when she asked about the "expiration date" earlier. Softer. Slower. As if she had rehearsed the question in her mind many times before uttering it.

Why have you been going back to the dorm these past two days?

Kamijou's hand paused for a moment. The beef in the pot trembled slightly in the sauce, and the cabbage leaves slowly softened in the steam. He didn't turn around.

"Because of... homework."

Why do we have to do homework?

"Because... they are students..."

"Why students?"

Kamijou was stunned, not by her question, but by the expression on her face when she asked it.

He turned around and saw her looking at him. Her brows weren't furrowed, nor were her lips pursed. Her gray eyes stared straight at him, without any scrutiny. She wasn't questioning him, nor was she comforting him.

She just wanted to know the answer.

He suddenly understood what she was asking. It wasn't "Why are you going back to the dorm?", it wasn't "Why are you doing homework?", it wasn't "Why are you a student?"

But...

Why are you still here?

She asked that.

So much had happened. The magic society, the magicians, the pursuit, Index's injury, the deadline for memory erasure, Kanzaki Kaori and Stiyl Magnus's warnings. Any ordinary person, after experiencing all of this, would be afraid. Would retreat. Would choose to stay away from it all.

But he still went back to his dorm this morning, sat at his desk doing his summer homework, had Index tutor him in math, and cooked dinner here.

It's as if none of that existed.

Kamijou looked down at the sukiyaki in the pot. The cabbage was already tender, the beef had soaked up all the broth, and the tofu trembled slightly in the bubbling air.

"Because..." his voice was a little hoarse, "because this is my daily routine..."

"daily."

"Yes. No matter what happens, no matter what you go through, tomorrow still goes on. You have to do your homework, eat your meals, and sleep. That's just how it is."

He turned off the heat. The bubbles in the pot gradually subsided. He brought the sukiyaki to the table and served three bowls of rice. He placed one in front of her, one in front of himself, and the last one for Index.

"And," he sat down, looking at the gray-haired girl opposite him, "you haven't come back yet."

"I?"

Her eyes widened slightly. Just a tiny bit. If Kamijou hadn't been watching her eyes the whole time, he wouldn't have noticed at all.

"Yes. Index is back. I'm back. You're not back yet." Touma Kamijou picked up his chopsticks, adjusted them in his hand to make them neat, "So I have to wait for you to come back so we can have dinner together."

He spoke so naturally, as if it were something perfectly natural. As if he were saying the weather was nice today. As if he were saying that discounted beef was indeed hard to come by.

The gray-haired girl stared at his face for a long time.

Her expression remained unchanged. Her lips didn't move, her brows didn't furrow, and her eyes didn't blink. But Kamijou noticed that her eyelashes trembled slightly. Once, and then again.

"Touma," she finally spoke, her voice very soft. Softer than when she asked about the "expiration date." Softer than when she asked him "why you're a student."

Can I ask you a question?

"What's the problem?"

Why did you save me?

Kamijou's hand, which had picked up the chopsticks, froze in mid-air.

"That day," the gray-haired girl said, her voice softening, "in the alley. I had nothing. No name, no memories, no clothes, nowhere to go. You brought me back."

That's because...

"It's not out of pity."

She interrupted him, her tone still flat. But Kamijou noticed that when she said those four words, her fingers, resting on the table, tightened slightly. Her fingertips pressed against the surface, her knuckles turning a very faint white. "It's not because I pity you. It's not because I want anything in return. It's not because I'm a girl. It's not because I'm weak."

With each word she spoke, Kamijou's heart sank a little deeper.

It wasn't because she was sad. It was because when she said those words, there was no blame in her gray eyes. She was simply stating a fact. Just like when she said "hungry." Just like when she called his name.

"When Touma saved me, he didn't think of any reason."

Her voice remained calm. But Kamijou noticed that her hand, resting on the table, tightened its grip. Something gleamed faintly in her grey eyes. Not tears. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Just like Touma making dinner today. Just like Touma carrying Index away to find the teacher. Touma never thinks about reasons when he does things."

That's just because...

"Touma."

She called his name.

This time, her voice finally changed slightly. A very subtle change. The ending note rose slightly, like a ripple on a lake stirred by the wind. "I want to know…"

"Why is Touma Touma...?" Those gray eyes stared straight at him.

Kamijou remained silent.

Steam rose from the sukiyaki pot. Outside the window, the Academy City lit up with countless lights, their grids spreading out in the twilight. In the distance, a windmill turned slowly, emitting a low, rhythmic sound.

He thought about it for a long time.

So long that the steam from the sukiyaki had thinned. So long that a thin layer of condensation had formed on the rim of the bowl in front of her.

"Me..." He raised his right hand, looking at his palm. "I've had this ability since I was little. 'Imagine Breaker.' Any superpower or magic that touches my right hand will vanish. No matter how powerful the force or how precious the miracle, it will be destroyed by me."

"Because of this ability, I've had terrible luck since I was a child. I've never won a lottery, I'll step in dog poop on the street, and my bank account is always being charged money for no reason. My classmates all say I'm the unlucky Kamijou-kun."

"But I never feel unfortunate, because this right hand isn't for destroying things. It's for protecting others."

He lowered his hand and looked at the gray-haired girl opposite him.

"I don't know what you've been through. I don't know where you came from, why you lost your memory, or who you are. But that day in the alley, I saw you sitting in the ditch, with nothing in your eyes."

His voice became very low.

"It's not emptiness. It's 'nothing at all,' as if there's nothing in this world that belongs to you. No one who knows you. Nowhere you can go."

As he spoke, he saw her eyelashes tremble again. Her hand, which had been resting on the table, slowly loosened, her fingertips no longer pressing firmly against the surface, but simply resting there gently, as if waiting for something.

"So I thought, at least let me be the first one."

The gray-haired girl's eyelashes trembled slightly.

"The first person to remember you, the first person to wait for you to come back, the first person to have dinner with you. Not because you are weak, not because I am strong, but simply because that day, in that alley, I saw someone who needed me."

The kitchen had been quiet for a long time. So quiet that the sukiyaki in the pot had stopped steaming. The windmill outside the window was still turning, turning and turning.

Then, the gray-haired girl lowered her head.

She looked at the bowl in front of her.

The bowl contained sukiyaki that Kamijou had served her. Beef, cabbage, and tofu were soaking in a dark brown broth. She stared at it for a long time, as if trying to identify the name of each ingredient.

Then she picked up her chopsticks.

Her movements were slow. Not hesitant, but earnest. When she picked up a piece of beef, her chopsticks trembled slightly. Kamijou knew she was still learning how to use chopsticks. Every time she picked something up, she used too much force, as if afraid the food would slip through her fingers.

She put the beef in her mouth and chewed it slowly.

Then she stopped.

"Touma."

"Um?"

"The beef today was delicious."

She didn't look at him when she said that. She kept her head down, looking at the sukiyaki in her bowl. But Kamijou noticed that her lips moved slightly, not chewing, but in a very small arc.

Kamijou was taken aback for a moment.

Then he lowered his head, picked up a piece of beef, and put it in his mouth.

The sweetness of the sauce, the freshness of the cabbage, the tenderness of the tofu, and the aroma of the beef. A very ordinary home-style dish. The beef was bought on sale, the cabbage had been sitting for two days, and the sauce was made hastily. My knife skills were poor; the beef was cut unevenly, and some slices were overcooked, with slightly burnt edges.

But suddenly he realized that this was the best sukiyaki he had ever eaten in his life. "Mmm."

His voice was a little hoarse. He cleared his throat and picked up another piece of cabbage, putting it in his mouth. The cabbage was cooked until very soft, soaking up all the broth, and it melted in his mouth with a single bite. "It's quite delicious."

Outside the window, the night in Academy City flowed quietly.

The kitchen light shone a warm yellow, illuminating the two people above their heads. The sukiyaki in the pot had stopped boiling, leaving only a little warmth. Across the table, the gray-haired girl picked up a second piece of beef, carefully blew on it, and then put it in her mouth.

A slight curve appeared at the corner of her mouth. It was so small that it was almost invisible unless you were watching her closely. It was just a tiny, almost imperceptible upward curve at the very tip of her lips.

But Touma Kamijou saw it.

He lowered his head and shoveled a large mouthful of rice into his mouth.

That evening, Index called to say she was staying at Ms. Komoe's house because Ms. Komoe had bought a new game console. Kamijou listened to the silver-haired nun's excited voice on the phone, and then heard Ms. Komoe shouting in the background, "Index, come help me with this level!" before the call ended.

He brought out his own blanket and gave her another one. Because she never complained about being cold, but she also never said she wasn't cold. Kamijou didn't know if she didn't feel cold, or if she didn't know that "cold" was something that needed to be expressed.

"Good night."

Goodnight, Touma.

When she called his name, her voice was a little softer than usual. It was as if she was lying down and didn't need to use as much strength to speak.

The lights are off.

In the darkness, Kamijou heard her breathing, very light and even, not the breathing of someone asleep, but the breathing of someone still awake but very calm.

He closed his eyes.

I still have homework to do tomorrow, and I need to solve Index's memory problem. There's also Kanzaki Kaori and Stiyl Magnus, and so many other things I don't know what to do.

But right now, all he wants to do is fall asleep.

"Touma."

Her voice suddenly rang out in the darkness.

"Um?"

"I learned something today."

"What is it?"

"Home".

"Where to go?"

"Yes. Someone remembers, someone waits to come back, someone has dinner together. This is what home should be."

Kamijou remained silent.

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk; something was stuck in his throat. He stared wide-eyed at the dark ceiling. There was nothing on the ceiling, only darkness.

"Touma."

"Um."

"Is this where I belong?"

Her voice was very soft. Even softer than before. It was as if she were asking a question that couldn't be raised too loudly, afraid that if she did, the answer would be shattered.

His throat felt tight.

"Um……"

The word came out more hoarsely than he had imagined. He heard his own voice as if it were coming from a very far place.

"Touma is like family to me."

She spoke calmly, as if stating a newly confirmed fact. "Family doesn't need reasons; family protects each other. Touma protects me, so I protect Touma. Touma protects Index, so I protect Index."

"Touma said today that you save people because you see people who need you. Touma is Touma's reason, and that's what Touma taught me."

In the darkness, her voice seemed to come from a great distance, yet also rose from a great distance; Kamijou couldn't quite describe the feeling. He stared at the pitch-black ceiling with his eyes open.

He suddenly remembered the day she first arrived. He brought her back from the alley, and she didn't ask any questions, just quietly followed him. He found her some of his old clothes, and after she put them on, she looked down at them for a long time, as if trying to understand the concept of "clothes." He poured her some water, and she held the cup with both hands, drinking it little by little, as if learning how to drink water for the first time.

Asking about everything, learning everything, even having to learn from scratch what "expiration date" means.

But now, she has spoken of "home" and "family".

He didn't ask anything. Not because he didn't want to know, not because he was afraid of the truth.

"Hmm..." His voice was still hoarse. He cleared his throat, but it didn't help. "This is where you belong."

In the darkness, he heard her turn over. The blanket rustled softly. Her breathing drew closer to his. Still so light, so even.

"Touma."

"Um?"

"Good night."

"Good night."

Her breathing gradually became steady, transitioning from the calm of wakefulness to the calm of sleep. The rhythm slowed, and the intervals between each breath lengthened slightly. Kamijou listened for a while, confirming that she was asleep.

He closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, all the problems will remain, but for now, he only wants to remember this moment. To remember the sound of this nameless girl saying "place of belonging" for the first time. Her voice was soft, as if she wasn't sure how to pronounce the word, but she still said it word by word.

Remember the taste of this sukiyaki made with discounted beef. The sauce was a bit too sweet because he accidentally added an extra spoonful of mirin. But she said it was delicious.

Remember this ordinary night, the third day of summer vacation.

This girl he picked up, who asks "Why is it beef?", this girl who says "Touma is my family", this girl who is sleeping peacefully beside him.

No matter where she comes from.

Regardless of who she was in the past.

None of that matters.

She's still the same person who would seriously ask, "What is an expiration date?" When she asks, her brows furrow slightly, and her lips purse gently, as if she wants to etch every word into her mind.

She's still the same person who carefully blows on the beef to cool it down. She pouts slightly, blows a small breath, then another small breath, making sure it's not too hot before putting it in her mouth.

It's still the same person who said, "Touma is my family."

This is enough.

Moonlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, falling on her long, gray hair. The hair, spread out on the pillow, seemed like a small patch of moonlight that had solidified into shape.

So, Touma Kamijou closed his eyes.