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

The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a pale blue glow on the ceiling. It was a thin, almost transparent blue, like ink diluted with water, swaying with the movement of the curtains.

The air was still damp and chilly; the coolness of last night hadn't completely dissipated, and the summer heat seemed not to have truly awakened yet, waiting for the midday sun to fully rouse it.

Touma Kamijou sat up, the blanket slipping from his chest, the cool air brushing against his skin. He blinked, taking a few seconds to fully wake up from his sleep.

Last night's memories pieced together like fragments: I ate sukiyaki with the white-haired girl. The beef slices simmered in the bubbling broth, the cabbage and tofu huddled together, and steam rose onto my face. Then Index said she was going to Teacher Xiaomeng's house to play games, grabbed her game console, and ran out.

By the way, Index isn't here.

He turned to look at the bed beside him; it was empty, save for the quilt, which had been turned over and laid flat. The quilt still bore the wrinkles of someone who had slept there, as if someone had just left. The pillow lay askew, a single long white hair resting on it, gleaming faintly in the dim light.

"Have you gone out yet...?"

Touma Kamijou grumbled as he got up, his bare feet sinking into the floor, a chill creeping up his spine. He shivered, bent down, and picked up his blanket, still warm from his body, which limply nestled in his arms.

He dragged himself to the balcony and opened the glass door. With a whoosh, fresh air rushed in.

The Academy City was still shrouded in a thin mist in the early morning, and the blades of wind turbines turned slowly in the distance. The clothes rack on the balcony was still empty, so Kamijou draped his quilt over it, patted off the wrinkles, and spread the quilt's wadding evenly. Sunlight fell on the quilt, releasing a faint, comforting scent.

Index is at Ms. Komoe's house. Then, maybe that white-haired little girl who's always by his side has gone there too? Kamijou scratched his messy hair at the back of his head and decided to go out and check.

As soon as I pushed open the door to Teacher Xiaomeng's house, I saw Index kneeling on the tatami mat, holding a bowl of porridge.

The morning light slanted in through the window, gilding her silver hair with a soft golden edge. She lowered her head, intently staring at the porridge in her bowl.

Hearing the door open, she looked up, her emerald green eyes lighting up. "Ah! Good morning, Touma!"

"Ah... good morning, Index." Kamijou took off his shoes and came into the room, sitting down next to her. "Where's the teacher? Are you the only one here eating porridge?"

"Hmph~ This was made by me, Miss Index~" Index proudly raised the bowl of porridge in front of Kamijou and waved it, then gripped two chopsticks in her right hand. Not just holding them, but gripping them tightly with her whole hand. She awkwardly shoveled the porridge into her mouth, the rice grains leaking out from between the chopsticks and falling back into the porridge along the rim of the bowl.

"Hey, hey..."

Touma Kamijou was speechless. Watching her outrageous dining antics, his shoulders slumped, and he collapsed onto the floor, utterly deflated. The texture of the tatami mat pressed against his back, and he stared at the round ceiling light, its shade covered in a thin layer of dust. He felt his strength slowly draining away.

"Huh? Isn't the white-haired girl coming over?"

"Hmm?" Index tilted her head in confusion, her silver hair slipping down to her shoulders, the ends brushing against the rim of the porridge bowl. The chopsticks touched her lips, her teeth clicking softly against the tips. "She wasn't here. Wasn't she with you?"

"It's alright..." Touma Kamijou rested his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Next to him, Index was diligently working on the bowl of porridge, her silver hair falling on either side of her face.

A strange thought suddenly popped into my head.

"Speaking of which, Index, your nose hairs were silver too."

As soon as he finished speaking, Touma Kamijou felt a chill run down his spine. It was a summer morning, and the room, which had been stuffy just moments before, was now unbelievably cool.

"Touma..."

Index's voice came from somewhere very far away, like bubbles rising from the bottom of a deep well, each word deliberate and each syllable carrying a sinister echo.

"Index...Miss?"

Touma Kamijou's neck spun like a rusty hinge, turning slowly, one notch at a time. His response was the silver-haired nun's face suddenly looming close.

Those emerald green eyes were wide open, burning with an emotion that could be categorized as "anger." Two rows of teeth gleamed coldly in the morning light.

Kamijou had never observed Index's teeth so closely before, and he was surprised to find that her canine teeth were actually quite sharp.

Sharp teeth and half a bowl of still-warm porridge were precisely placed on his head, with grains of rice slowly sliding down his bangs.

"What a misfortune..."

Chu Chunshi's hands were trembling.

She had been working continuously for fourteen hours. The data stream on the computer screen kept refreshing, and the green characters were reflected in her tired pupils, but she dared not look away for even a second.

Ruiko Saten is still unconscious.

Since the "Phantom Mistress" incident broke out, too many students have fallen. As an intelligence processor for the 177th branch of the Disciplinary Committee, Haruharu has been desperately analyzing the data structure of that audio file, trying to find a way to crack it.

But what truly made her unable to stop wasn't her responsibility as a disciplinary committee member. It was Saten, her friend. Her best friend.

Haru took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She had discussed an idea with Shirai Kuroko and Misaka-senpai yesterday. The operating mechanism of the Imagine Breaker seemed to be related to "synesthesia." If this audio stimulated the five senses through sound, interfering with the brain and thus changing the user's brainwaves, then all users' brainwaves should have the same characteristic waveform.

The problem is, she has very little information. She can find very few publicly available documents on the link between empathy and ability development. And truly in-depth research requires higher access privileges.

Chu Chun bit her lip.

She remembered how Saten used to always say with a smile, "Hatsuharu is so amazing, she knows everything." But in reality, she knew nothing. She couldn't even save her best friend.

If you don't have the necessary permissions, then find someone with them. Professor Haruo Kiyama is a brain physiology expert whose research focuses on AIM diffusion fields and brainwave interference.

Chu Chun didn't hesitate. She stood up and walked towards Kiyama Haruo's office.

When the knocking sounded, Kiyama Haruo was organizing experimental data.

"Please come in."

The door was pushed open, and Kiyama Harumi raised her eyelids to glance at her. A petite girl wearing a flower crown on her head, dressed in a sailor uniform, and with a "Disciplinary Committee Member" armband on her arm entered.

"What's up?"

"Professor Kiyama..." The girl's voice was a little hurried, obviously she had run all the way here, "My name is Uiharu Kazari, I'm from the 177th branch of the Disciplinary Committee. I... I have an idea about the ViewFinder that I'd like to ask you about."

Kiyama Harumi didn't speak, but just looked at her with his sleepy eyes.

Chu Chun took a deep breath and began to speak. She started with the definition of synesthesia, then talked about the interaction mechanism between auditory stimulation and the five senses, and then about the characteristic waveforms that might exist in the user's brainwaves. She spoke quickly, but her reasoning was clear, and each point of reasoning was closely linked to the next. But towards the end, her voice began to tremble slightly.

"I know these are just inferences, I have no evidence... but if this direction is right, perhaps we can find a way to awaken the user." Haru raised her head, her eyes red. "My friend also collapsed. Her name was Saten Ruiko, she was just a Level 0, she had no idea that using Imagine Breaker would lead to this... I... I just wanted to save her."

The office fell silent for a moment.

"Please sit down..."

Kiyama Harumi leaned back in her chair, still with that drowsy expression. But her gaze, out of Haruharu's sight, subtly shifted.

Synesthesia.

This little girl mentioned empathy.

"Illusionist" is developed based on the theory of synesthesia. By stimulating hearing with sound, it simultaneously interferes with vision, touch, and even specific areas of the cerebral cortex, thereby forcibly rewriting the user's brainwaves and enhancing their ability level. Furthermore, after all users fall unconscious, their brainwaves remain synchronized, forming a vast network. This is precisely how she collects AIM diffusion field data. This disciplinary committee member, has she grasped the basics simply through her own deductions?

Kiyama Harumi tapped the table lightly with his fingers. The sound was very soft, like an unconscious little movement.

Too dangerous.

Her plan was not yet complete. Those children, those abandoned by the higher-ups and used as experimental subjects, still unconscious, were waiting for her to awaken them. If the truth were discovered now, everything would be in vain.

The young girl in front of me is quick-witted, proactive, and has clear motives. She's capable of anything for her friends. These are the kinds of people who are most troublesome.

Kiyama Harumi's gaze swept over Chuchun's slender neck.

Dispose of it?

The thought only lasted a second before being suppressed by another voice. Looking at Haruaki's red yet stubborn eyes, Kiyama Harumi suddenly remembered another pair of eyes.

The child in the hospital bed looked at her in the same way, too weak to speak, yet still trying to keep his eyes wide open. Those other children had said the same thing: "We just wanted to help our teacher." Those were the same eyes, weary eyes, saying, "I just wanted to save them."

"professor……?"

The sounds of early spring pulled her back to reality. Kiyama Harumi lowered her eyes, remained silent for a moment, then stood up, poured a glass of water from the water dispenser, added instant coffee powder, and placed it on the table in front of her.

"Why don't you take a short break... like, have a cup of coffee..."

"Now is not the time for leisure...!"

A large hand patted Haruto Ueharu's shoulder as Harumi Kiyama sat back on the sofa. His face, unchanged from its previous state, wore a warm smile despite its exhaustion.

"If your friend wakes up, but you collapse, wouldn't that be pointless..."

After Kiyama Harumi finished speaking, she stood up and walked towards the warehouse across the street. Before closing the door, she turned back to look at Uiharu Kazari, who was wiping away tears. "Don't worry, everything will be alright in the end..."

The hospital was much better lit than other places, with clean white walls and non-slip, rubber-like floors. The air was thick with the bitter smell of disinfectant and medicine.

Misaka Mikoto stood next to the vending machine at the corner of the corridor, opened the coconut soda she had just bought, making a crisp sound and even sending up a wisp of smoke.

"A network made up of brainwaves?"

Misaka Mikoto turned around and looked at the doctor sitting in a row of chairs, wondering why he would ask such a question.

"Yes, because you are the most powerful power-generating psychic, I want to discuss something with you..." The doctor looked at Misaka Mikoto and pointed to his head, "If we convert the same type of brainwaves into electrical signals, could we build a network that connects those people?"

"This..." Misaka Mikoto took a sip of her soda, frowned, and thought for a moment. "If I keep my brainwaves constant... maybe it's possible... Ah! You mean that 'Imagine Mage' too..."

"Onee-sama!" Just as Misaka Mikoto was asking, Shirai Kuroko suddenly teleported in and rushed over anxiously. "Hiharu went to Kiyama Harumi's place! We still can't contact her!"

Shiori Haruyuki held a cup of coffee in her hand. She had forgotten to charge her phone because she had stayed up all night working, but she was too embarrassed to ask Professor Kiyama to let her charge it.

She looked around; the office was shockingly shabby. There was only a desk and chair set, a sofa and coffee table set, and a filing cabinet with a piece of paper tucked into the drawer.

"Really... Professor Kiyama didn't even organize the data properly..." Uiharu Kazari's gaze swept over the paper, but couldn't look away.

Haruto Shiori's mind went blank. The coffee cup slipped from her hand, the brown liquid spreading on the floor, but she didn't notice. She stood up, her steps unsteady, and went to the cabinet, pulling open the drawer. It was crammed full. All papers. Each cover bore that familiar yet unfamiliar name—Kiyama Harumi.

"The Practical Application of Synesthesia... The Propagation of Synesthesia by Low-Frequency Sound Waves... A Universal Test of Using Music to Interfere with the Brain... An Involuntary Movement..." Shiori Haruharu couldn't believe it was real. The papers in her hands were crumpled and her hands trembled uncontrollably.

Why? Why is this happening? Did Professor Harumi Kiyama know about this from the beginning? Even papers on commensurate feelings and the AIM diffusion stance are…why? Could it be…that the author of "Phantom Master" is…

squeak-

She walked out slowly. The dim light gradually swallowed her silhouette until she stood behind Chu Chun, and the door closed silently behind her.

He gripped Chuchun's shoulders with both hands, the pressure light but enough to immobilize her. A voice descended from above, calm completely at odds with her weary face. "That won't do… You can't just peek at other people's research results…"