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

The morning sunlight streamed through the clean glass windows, illuminating the pure white hospital bed. The crisp air carried a strong smell of disinfectant, and the bed beneath me felt strangely unfamiliar.

Touma Kamijou groggily opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was the heaviness and a faint stinging pain in his right arm. He blinked, his vision gradually focusing. His right hand, from his palm to the middle of his forearm, was wrapped in layers of thick white bandages, the outermost layer of which was firmly fixed with a medical cast, looking like the treatment given after being hit by some heavy weapon.

"It's just a broken finger, right?"

Kamijou stared at his overly bandaged right hand and couldn't help but complain. Last night in the "Paradise of Reincarnation" realm, when he withstood Index's "Dragon King's Sigh" released in "Automatic Bookmark" mode, his right hand endured terrifying pressure, and his finger bones did indeed make an ominous sound. But even so, this way of bandaging was too exaggerated; it was as if his entire arm had been broken.

"The doctor said that your right hand has a special condition, and conventional treatments are not always effective, so a conservative reinforcement plan was adopted."

A calm voice came from beside the bed. Touma turned his head and saw a gray-haired girl standing by the bed, holding a clean summer uniform shirt in her hand. She still had that expressionless look, her long gray hair draped over her shoulders, and her gray eyes quietly looking at him.

"Special constitution..." Kamijou chuckled. He knew the doctor was referring to the interference effect of "Imagine Breaker" on magic and even certain scientific treatments. This right hand could even negate divine miracles; ordinary treatments, such as those relying on healing abilities, would probably be completely ineffective...

"Can you sit up by yourself?"

"Ah, it should be fine..."

Kamijou awkwardly sat up, bracing himself on the mattress with his left hand. The cast on his right arm made his balance precarious, and he swayed slightly. The gray-haired girl immediately reached out to support his shoulder. Her hand was a little cold, but very steady.

"Thank you..." Kamijou sighed, looking at his right hand, which was immobilized in a cast. "How long do I have to wear this?"

"The doctor said that given your unique constitution, the healing time cannot be predicted using common sense. Regular check-ups are recommended." The gray-haired girl picked up her shirt and gestured for him to raise his hand.

Kamijou obediently extended his left arm, letting her help him put on his shirt. The process was somewhat awkward; for most of the past sixteen years, he had managed his own life, and suddenly being helped with dressing by a girl who looked even younger than him felt strange. But the gray-haired girl's movements were natural, as if it were just an ordinary thing.

"Where's Index?" Kamijou asked, glancing around the ward as he put on his shirt.

"Outside." The gray-haired girl straightened his collar and deftly buttoned his shirt. "Sleeping on the bench."

Kamijou looked in the direction she indicated. Through the glass window in the ward door, he could see a bench in the corridor outside the infirmary. The silver-haired nun was curled up on the bench, covered with a thin blanket, fast asleep. Her small body rose and fell slightly with her breathing, and her face still showed a hint of weariness.

"She...has been waiting outside the whole time?"

"Yes. The doctor said only one caregiver can stay in the ward, but she insisted on staying in the closest available spot," the gray-haired girl stated calmly, then straightened her shirt.

A complex warmth welled up in Kamijou's heart. Index, who always looked like a glutton and would bite his head at the drop of a hat, was actually more persistent than anyone else and more afraid of losing him than anyone else.

After putting on the shirt, the gray-haired girl handed him the trousers. Touma hurriedly took them, then turned the gray-haired girl around, saying, "I can do this myself!"

"Understood..." The gray-haired girl looked at the wall in front of her and took out a pair of shoes from the bag.

Kamijou awkwardly changed his pants with one hand in a comical manner, almost losing his balance and falling off the bed, but luckily he managed to grab the bedside table in time. By the time he was finally dressed, the gray-haired girl had already turned around, holding his shoes in her hand.

"I'll take care of the discharge procedures. Your right hand is not convenient, so please wait here."

"Wait, I'll go with you..."

"Sit still." Her tone was flat, yet carried an undeniable air of authority.

Kamijou opened his mouth, but ultimately sat back down on the edge of the bed. He watched the gray-haired girl take his medical record and ID and leave the ward, leaving only the soft sound of the door closing.

Who is she...?

The question resurfaced in his mind. From the extraordinary "Kabbalah" she displayed last night to her calm and attentive care now, there were too many mysteries surrounding this girl. But strangely, Touma didn't feel afraid or wary. Perhaps it was because she had saved Index, or perhaps it was because of the words she had said when he was most confused. But in any case, he already considered her a "comrade" in his heart.

A few minutes later, the gray-haired girl returned, holding several receipts in her hand.

"It's all done. You can go now."

"So fast?" Kamijou asked in surprise as he took the papers.

"The process is simple," she replied briefly, then came over and helped him up.

The two left the ward and went into the corridor. Index was still fast asleep on the bench, and Kamijou gently patted her shoulder.

"Index, wake up, it's time to go home."

"Hmm..." The silver-haired nun opened her eyes groggily, blinked her emerald green eyes, and immediately snapped awake upon recognizing Touma. "Touma! You're awake! How's your hand? Does it still hurt?"

A barrage of questions rained down on her like a machine gun. Kamijou chuckled and ruffled her hair with his left hand. "One at a time. Your hand is fine; it doesn't hurt unless you touch it. As for the cast…" He shook the exaggerated bandage, "who knows when it'll be taken off…"

Index stared at Touma Kamijou's right hand, then sadly picked up the hand that was wrapped up like a plaster pillar.

"Idiot." Kamijou flicked her forehead with his left hand. "It's not your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's those church bastards who cursed you."

Index covered her forehead, her eyes a little red, but finally nodded firmly: "Yes!"

Just as the three were about to leave, the door to the infirmary was suddenly pushed open again. A middle-aged doctor wearing a white coat and looking remarkably like a frog came out, holding a brown paper envelope in his hand.

"Ah, I was just looking for you." The doctor pushed up his glasses, his gaze falling on Kamijou. "Kamijou-kun, this is something left for you. It was left by that... well, that foreigner with the very distinctive attire last night. He told me to give it to you personally."

Kamijou was taken aback. A foreigner with unusual attire? It could only be Stiyl Magnus.

He took the envelope; it felt quite heavy. The seal was made of sealing wax and had a strange emblem printed on it. The front of the envelope was written in fluent Japanese: "To Kamijou Touma," the handwriting so neat it looked printed.

"Where are they?" Touma Kamijou looked up at the doctor pushing the cart and asked loudly.

"They left before dawn..." The doctor shrugged. "Before leaving, they said, 'If that kid asks, just say we're busy cleaning up a mess and don't have time to waste with him.'"

That's so typical of him... Kamijou sighed, just as he was about to open the letter, but the gray-haired girl took the envelope from his hand first.

"I'll do it."

Before Touma could object, she deftly tore open the seal and took out the letter inside. It was a thick stack of seven or eight sheets. She unfolded the letter and held it up to Touma so that he could also see the contents.

"Kamijo Touma:

Let's skip the formalities. Although I really wanted to say you did a great job, if I were to write down my personal thoughts, I'd probably have to cut down all the trees in the world to make enough paper, so I've omitted that part as well.

The following is an explanation based on basic etiquette: Since you helped us, I'll tell you about the child's current situation so you won't have to come back asking for favors later. Let's make this clear first: next time we meet, we'll be enemies.

We examined Index's body. The 'collar' was indeed completely destroyed, with no remnants remaining. The official order from the British Puritan leadership was to bring her back immediately, but in reality, they were also observing how things would develop. Personally, I couldn't bear to let her stay with you for even a second longer, but reality wouldn't allow it.

She now has a record of using magic, though it was done by the "Automatic Book," which has since been destroyed. The key question is whether she has regained her original magical power as a result. If the loss of control has instead unleashed her potential, we must be fully prepared to deal with it. After all, a "Demon God" who can freely manipulate 103,000 grimoires is an extremely terrifying being.

This doesn't mean I'm giving her away to you now. We'll come back to take her away once we've gathered enough intelligence and prepared our equipment. I don't like ambushes, so you'd better be prepared.

P.S.: This letter will automatically explode after you read it. Although we learned the truth thanks to you, playing those kinds of "bets" without permission is your punishment. It'll probably blow off one of the fingers on your proud right hand.

—Steel Magnus

At the very bottom of the letter was a delicately drawn flame rune, emitting a faint red glow.

"This is...!" Index's expression changed.

Before he could finish speaking, the runes suddenly lit up with a blinding light.

The gray-haired girl reacted with lightning speed, throwing the letter the instant the rune was activated. But the explosion came even faster; the letter shattered in mid-air, not with flames or impact, but with a concentrated ball of blazing white light, accompanied by a sharp, cannon-like sound and scattering of paper scraps.

"Ahhh!" Index covered her ears in fright.

Kamijou instinctively tried to block with his right hand, but the plaster cast restricted his movement. Fortunately, the explosion was small, and the ball of light dissipated after only a moment, leaving nothing behind except for the falling paper dust and a faint smell of burning in the air.

"...That bastard!" Kamijou gritted his teeth. Although he wasn't injured, this kind of prank-like "punishment" was just too rude! Was that guy named Stiyl Magnus? I'll give him a good punch next time we meet!

The gray-haired girl brushed imaginary dust off her hands and looked at Touma Kamijou. Touma Kamijou also looked at the gray-haired girl. "Thank you. If you hadn't reacted quickly, I might have really had to go back to the ward again."

The gray-haired girl shook her head and didn't say anything.

At this point, the doctor, who had been startled, slowly spoke up: "Your friends... have quite a unique relationship. Was there liquid explosive in the envelope?"

"Haha..." Kamijou chuckled dryly, bowed to the doctor, and said, "I'm sorry to have troubled you."

"I'm used to it." The doctor waved his hand. "Your record at our hospital has already broken the quarterly rankings. Hurry up and go, beds are scarce."

The three said goodbye to the doctor and left the clinic.

Just after Touma and his group left the ward, a black space appeared on the white wall next to them, from which a few strands of hair emerged.

"I see... I've finally found you..."

"Primordial Spirit..."

Academy City is awakening in the morning. Students are jogging in the streets, the aroma of oden wafts from convenience stores, and cleaning robots move slowly along the sidewalks. The sun is shining brightly, and the air already smells of summer.

Index walked to Touma's left, occasionally glancing at his right hand in a cast, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back. The gray-haired girl walked to his right, her steps steady, her gaze fixed calmly ahead.

"Um..." Index finally couldn't help but speak up, "Touma, I'll make you breakfast when we get home! Even though I only know how to bake bread and fry eggs, I'll try my best!"

"Really?"

"Touma!" Index puffed out her cheeks. "I can improve too!"

"Alright, alright, then I'll leave it to you." Kamijou smiled and ruffled her hair with his left hand, then looked at the gray-haired girl. "And you? Is there anything you'd like to eat?"

The gray-haired girl thought for a moment: "A balanced diet is fine."

"Could you be more specific?"

"It can replenish protein, vitamins, and carbohydrates, with moderate calories and easy digestibility."

"Uh... why don't you just tell me the specific name of the dish?"

"The name of the dish doesn't matter, as long as the ingredients meet the standards."

Kamijou and Index exchanged a glance and sighed simultaneously. This girl was unusually pragmatic in some ways, or rather, severely lacked a zest for life.

As they walked, Index suddenly asked softly, "Touma, is your hand... really alright?"

She knew that Touma's right hand was both his greatest asset and his deepest burden. She still felt guilty that he was in danger because of her.

"Don't worry." Kamijou raised his right arm, which was in a cast, and shook it casually. "Although Mr. Kamijou..."

He stopped mid-sentence. He had wanted to say something to comfort her, but his train of thought stalled, and he couldn't finish the sentence.

In truth, he himself wasn't sure. The extent of his right-hand injury, whether it would leave any hidden dangers after healing, the impact on his abilities... these were all unknowns. But at this moment, he didn't want Index to worry.

Amidst their noisy conversation, the three returned to the old student dormitory in the Seventh School District. They took the elevator to their familiar door. Kamijou pulled out his key, awkwardly unlocked it with his left hand for a long time, and finally pushed the door open.

Morning light streamed into the room, illuminating the slightly messy but warm and inviting space. Traces of yesterday's hasty departure remained on the tatami mats, an unfinished teacup sat on the low table, and several reference books were piled in the corner.

The taste of home.

Index rushed in first, only to find that the refrigerator had been repaired but not plugged in, and all the vegetables inside were ruined.

"That's why I said we should go grocery shopping..." Kamijou followed in, glancing down at his right hand, which was in a cast. "But in this state, even carrying shopping bags is a problem."

"I'll go." The gray-haired girl was already standing at the door.

Kamijou and Index both turned to look at her.

Do you know where the supermarket is?

"I passed by three shops on my way back last night, and I remember their locations."

"Do you know what to buy?"

"Rice, eggs, vegetables, meat. And, as Index said, an extra box of pudding." She paused, then looked at Touma Kamijou: "Money."

Kamijou then remembered his finances. He felt in his pockets, took out his wallet, and thankfully hadn't taken it with him last night. His cash cards were still there, and he still had some cash left.

"I'll go with you," Index raised her hand. "I know what Touma likes to eat!"

"You stay at home." The gray-haired girl shook her head. "Touma Kamijou's right hand is injured, and he needs someone to take care of him."

"Huh? But..."

"Dividing the work is more efficient." She looked at Kamijou. "Is that alright?"

Kamijou hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded: "Then I'll leave it to you. Be careful and come back soon."

The gray-haired girl took the points card and shopping bag, nodded, and turned to leave. Her footsteps faded into the distance down the corridor.

The room fell silent. Index squatted in front of the refrigerator, muttering softly, "She's so reliable... way more reliable than Touma."

"Hey, I heard you."

"That's true!" Index turned her head, her emerald green eyes looking intently at Touma. "Touma always acts recklessly, never complaining when he gets hurt, and always bearing the consequences alone. But she's different..."

Kamijou leaned against the doorframe, gazing at the empty corridor: "Yeah... she really is special."

"Touma," Index stood up and walked over to him, "do you believe her?"

"I believe you." Kamijou said almost without hesitation. "Although I don't know where she came from or who she is, she saved you and helped me. That's enough."

Index lowered her head, twisting the hem of her nun's robe with her fingers. "I...I believe her too. But Touma, I'm a little scared."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid that one day she'll suddenly leave too," Index said softly. "I'm afraid I'll be alone again..."

Kamijou crouched down, his right hand in a cast making his movements somewhat clumsy. He gently pressed his left hand against her shoulder.

"Listen, Index."

Touma Kamijou hesitated for a moment, then spoke seriously, "I can't guarantee what the future holds. Maybe one day she'll leave, maybe one day Stiyl and the others will really come to take you away, maybe other troubles will come knocking. But..."

He looked directly into the girl's uneasy eyes.

"At least for now, the three of us are together. At least for now, this is our home. So let's not overthink it and just enjoy today, okay?"

Index looked at him for a long time before finally nodding vigorously. Her eyes were a little red, but a smile appeared on her lips.

"Okay! I'm going to make a super lavish breakfast today! We'll eat together when she gets back!"

"Provided you don't blow up the kitchen."

"Touma——!"

Amidst the commotion, the morning light gradually warmed. Touma Kamijou looked out at the bright sky, feeling the weight of the cast on his right arm. The emptiness that had always been there due to his amnesia seemed to be quietly filled a little by something.

Whether it's hypocrisy or wishful thinking, it doesn't matter.

At least for now, he wants to protect this ordinary daily life.