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

The summer heat hasn't arrived yet; a slightly cool swirling breeze blows between the buildings. Gentle sunlight filters through the gaps in the steel frame of the glass curtain wall, illuminating the ground—the morning light is just right.

A gray-haired girl walked along the streets of the Seventh School District in the early morning, carrying a slightly worn reusable shopping bag. Sunlight shone down, casting a pale golden hue on her long, gray hair. She wore a beige hooded sweatshirt and black trousers, her steps steady, her gaze calmly sweeping over the shop signs along the way.

She remembered the supermarket locations clearly; she'd passed three on her way back last night, the closest being about a fifteen-minute walk from her dorm. Touma's shopping list for her was simple: rice, eggs, vegetables, meat, and the pudding Index had specifically requested. There were three cash cards in her hoodie pocket, for some reason.

The streets gradually came alive. The aroma of steamed buns wafted from the convenience store, where groups of disciplinary committee members stood cleaning. The vending machines flashed their dim lights as early-rising students walked by, still half-asleep.

Turning the corner, she came to the entrance of a large chain supermarket. The automatic door sensed her approach and slid open silently, releasing a blast of cold air mixed with the smell of refrigerant. She went inside and picked up a basket from the entrance.

The shopping process was very efficient. Instead of browsing and buying along the way, she went straight to the grains and oils section, picked up a five-kilogram bag of rice, and put it in her basket. Next, she went to the refrigerated section and chose a box of eggs marked "Today's Special." In the vegetable section, she picked up a cabbage, looked at it, then put it back, choosing a few fresh-looking carrots and a bunch of spinach instead. At the meat counter, she stared at the different cuts of beef for a few seconds before finally pointing to a discounted piece of brisket.

Touma Kamijou once said that this type of part is more suitable for stewing. Today, Touma Kamijou's right hand is not very useful, so we'll choose this kind of ingredient that can also be stewed, thus reducing his workload.

Finally, there's the dessert section. The refrigerated display case is filled with various puddings. Although there are many brands and varieties, they all only have caramel flavor. Why is that? I picked up a box, checked the expiration date, and put it in my basket.

The basket gradually filled up as she pushed the cart towards the checkout counter, her steps still steady. There weren't many people in line; only two housewives were ahead of her. She waited quietly, her gray eyes fixed on the promotional poster hanging beside the counter, which depicted cartoon fruits with exaggerated smiles.

"Um...may I ask who you are...?"

A slightly hesitant voice came from the side and behind.

The gray-haired girl turned her head. Standing not far behind her were two girls. One wore a colorful floral headdress, had short black hair, and was dressed in a blue and white sailor uniform; she was the girl named Uiharu Shiori. The other was slightly taller, with long black hair tied in a ponytail. The same sailor uniform looked a little small on her, revealing her midriff.

Shiori Ueharu's eyes were wide open, filled with a mixture of intense gratitude. Her hands unconsciously clasped in front of her chest, and her body leaned slightly forward, as if restraining the urge to bow immediately.

"It really was you..." Chu Chun's voice trembled slightly, "That day on the overpass... thank you for saving everyone!"

After she finished speaking, she bowed deeply, a perfect ninety-degree bow. Her short black hair fell down with the movement, and the flower ornament on her head swayed gently, looking just like a real flower.

Saten Ruiko paused for a moment, then realized what had happened. Although she hadn't witnessed the scene firsthand, she had heard the whole story from Uiharu and Shirai-kun. The gray-haired girl who had suddenly appeared and destroyed the fantastical beast with incredible power. She quickly bowed, "No! Thank you so much! Uiharu and everyone else told me… if it weren't for you…"

The gray-haired girl watched them quietly, her expression unchanged, but her gray eyes flickered slightly as she lowered her head in early spring, her gaze falling on the flowers that swayed gently with her movements.

"You're welcome..." she said, her voice calm and steady. "I just did what I wanted to do."

Chu Chun straightened up, her eyes a little red. She wiped her eyes forcefully and gave a slightly embarrassed smile: "Um... I've been wanting to thank you in person, but I didn't know where to find you... It's so wonderful to meet you today!"

Saten Ruiko straightened up, curiously examining the girl before her. Long, greyish-white hair, calm grey eyes—she looked barely older than herself, yet possessed that legendary power… She couldn't help but ask, "Um… may I ask how I should address you?"

The gray-haired girl paused for a moment. "I have no name."

"Ah..." Saten blinked and looked at Hatsuharu. Hatsuharu quickly waved her hand, "N-no problem! Um... if you don't mind, would you like to... go get something to drink? I know a nice coffee shop nearby..."

"I want to go home..." The gray-haired girl pointed to her shopping cart, which was already filled with groceries.

"Huh?" Haruyuki paused for a moment, then remembered something. "Ah! I'm sorry to bother you..."

The gray-haired girl nodded without offering any further explanation. She took a step forward, carrying her basket, and walked over to the customer who had already paid and left.

Looking at her calm profile, Haru suddenly remembered something, and her eyes lit up: "Um... if you have time, would you like to come to the girls' dormitory at Tokiwadai Middle School? Shirai-san and Misaka-senpai come here often, and everyone would like to formally thank you..."

She spoke with genuine anticipation. Saten Ruiko chimed in, "Yes, yes! The girls' dormitory at Tokiwadai is absolutely gorgeous! And the sweets they make in early spring are delicious!"

The cashier gestured for her turn, and the gray-haired girl placed the items from her basket onto the table one by one, her movements methodical. Rice, eggs, vegetables, beef, pudding. The barcode scanner beeped regularly.

As she packed the items back into her shopping bag, she replied in a calm voice, "No, I'm not going."

Both Haru and Saten were stunned.

"Why..." Haru asked instinctively, but then realized her abruptness and quickly added, "Ah, I didn't mean to force you! It's just..."

"I don't like crowded places." The gray-haired girl put the last box of pudding into a bag, took out a cash card from her pocket and handed it to the cashier. "Besides, someone is waiting for me..."

After paying, she picked up two bulging shopping bags and turned to look at the two people. Sunlight streamed in through the supermarket's glass doors, casting long shadows behind her.

"Thank you for the invitation," she said, her tone devoid of emotion. "Goodbye."

Then she took a step and walked towards the automatic door. Her figure passed through the light curtain and blended into the brightly lit street outside.

Uiharu Kazari stood there, watching her figure disappear around the street corner. Saten Ruiko nudged her shoulder: "Uiharu... she seems to really dislike socializing."

"Hmm..." Chu Chun nodded gently, her eyes filled with a complex emotion. "But I don't know why... I always felt that she wasn't cold, just... not used to being with others?"

"After all, he saved so many people..." Saten sighed. "Although his attitude was indifferent, he must be a good person."

Outside the supermarket, a gray-haired girl carrying shopping bags walked back the way she came. Sunlight cast her shadow in front of her, swaying gently with each step.

The shopping bags rustled softly in her hands as the gray-haired girl walked slowly along the sidewalk, the sunlight casting her shadow obliquely in front of her.

Business as usual.

Until she turned into a shortcut alley leading to the dormitory.

The alley is short, about fifty meters long, with the back walls of residential buildings on both sides, sparsely covered with vines. The morning sun is blocked by the tall buildings, making it much cooler than the main street.

She didn't stop walking, but her gray eyes shifted slightly.

The "texture" of the air has changed.

It's not temperature or humidity, but something more fundamental—a subtle break in the "continuity" of space. Like a small patch of paint in the background of a painting, its texture is different from the rest; it's hard to notice without close inspection, but it's definitely there.

She continued walking forward, the shopping bag swaying gently in her hands.

When we get to the third step...

The shadow moved.

It wasn't her shadow, but another shadow that separated from the shadows in the corner. The shadow spread out on the ground like ink, and from it slowly rose the outline of a girl, wearing a red and black Gothic dress with layers of skirts, heterochromatic eyes that were gold on the left and red on the right, and long hair that fell like the night, tied at the end with a bright red ribbon.

Kurumi Tokisaki.

She stood in the middle of the alley, blocking the way. Her hands were elegantly folded in front of her, a sweet yet dangerous smile on her face. The golden clock in her left eye slowly rotated, the hands ticking almost inaudibly.

"It's so nice to finally meet you~" Her voice was soft, like a chant, "Primordial Spirit... or should I call you Takamiya Mio?"

The gray-haired girl stopped in her tracks, still holding the shopping bag steadily in her hand. Her expression remained unchanged as she calmly watched the sudden visitor.

I don't know you.

"Oh dear, how cold~" Kurumi tilted her head slightly, her crimson right eye narrowing. "But it's alright, knowing you is enough for me. From the moment you arrived, I've been searching..."

She took a step forward, her heels clicking crisply on the ground. The light in the alley seemed to dim further, and the surrounding air became thick, as if she were in some invisible realm.

"Could you move aside?" The gray-haired girl asked, as if she were asking someone to move a bicycle blocking her way. "I want to go home."

Kurumi laughed, her laughter as melodious as silver bells, yet tinged with chill.

"Going home? What a comforting word. But before that..." She gently raised her right hand, her fingertips brushing against her bangs, and licked her lips. "Could you... die first?"

The moment she finished speaking, the shadow behind her suddenly expanded. Countless pale arms emerged from the shadows, each holding an ancient flintlock pistol. The muzzles of the guns were all aimed at the gray-haired girl.

"Zafkiel! Aleph the First Bullet"

Kurumi spoke softly, and a huge clock appeared behind her. Then, the hand of her left eye suddenly jumped, and a string of red and black things flowed into her pistol. She then fired at her own chin.

Those pale arms pulled the triggers, and dozens of bullets were fired at the same time, drawing twisted trajectories in the air and blocking all space for evasion from all angles.

The gray-haired girl didn't dodge; she didn't even put down her shopping bag. She simply raised her free left hand, her fingers slightly spread.

"The Paradise of Reincarnation..."

The sound was very soft, as soft as a sigh. The space within a ten-meter radius of her was "frozen".

Time didn't stop; it continued to flow. But the "rules" of space were rewritten. The bullets, upon entering the area, suddenly slowed down, as if trapped in an invisible gel. They continued to move forward, but each centimeter took hundreds or thousands of times longer than before, and their trajectories became clearly visible, ridiculously slow.

Kurumi narrowed her eyes. She had seen many abilities and many angels, and she could even recognize the magic behind DEM's spells. But she had never been considered an opponent by the Primal Spirit, and had never faced the true power of that angel.

The gray-haired girl lowered her left hand and continued walking. She walked steadily through the almost still bullets, her shopping bag swaying gently with her movements. As she passed Kurumi, she didn't even glance at her.

"etc--!"

Kurumi turned around, and for the first time, genuine astonishment appeared in her heterochromatic eyes. She wanted to activate other abilities, but she couldn't think of any that could actually hit the Primal Spirit; in her mind, it was impossible.

The gray-haired girl walked to the other end of the alley, about to step into the sunlight of the main street. She stopped and turned her head slightly.

"Don't come again." Her voice remained calm. "I don't like being disturbed."

Then she raised her left hand and snapped her fingers.

Snapped--

With a crisp sound, the "Paradise of Reincarnation" domain instantly dissipated. The suspended bullets, losing their support, turned into black smoke and vanished. Kurumi felt her power return, but the gray-haired girl had already walked out of the alley, her figure blending into the crowd on the street.

She stood there, looking at the empty alleyway, and after a long while, a complex smile slowly appeared on her lips.

"Truly...awe-inspiring..." she murmured to herself, the clock hands on her left eye returning to normal speed. "But isn't that more interesting?"

The shadows flowed back to her feet like water, her figure gradually fading until it disappeared into the shadows. The alley returned to silence, with only a few wisps of lingering black smoke on the ground, proving that what had just happened was not an illusion.

The gray-haired girl walked up the dormitory stairs to the seventh floor. She gently tapped the door lock, and it opened instantly. Although Touma Kamijou had taught her how to open doors with a key, it was a bit inefficient, so this method was more convenient.

The door opened, and a burnt smell wafted out of the room.

"I'm back," she said, stepping into the house.

The living room was a mess. Index stood in the kitchen doorway, holding a frying pan filled with some kind of dark, unidentified substance. Her face was covered in flour, a few strands of her long silver hair were singed and curled, and her emerald eyes were filled with frustration.

Kamijou Touma sat at the low table, his right hand, encased in plaster, resting on the table, his left hand supporting his forehead, looking utterly dejected. Seeing the gray-haired girl return, he sighed with relief.

"Welcome back... Help!"

The gray-haired girl placed the shopping bag on the kitchen counter, walked over to Index, and looked at the contents of the pot.

Did you fail to fry the egg?

"I know!" Index puffed out her cheeks. "The heat is so hard to control!"

The gray-haired girl took the frying pan, walked to the sink, scooped up the charred contents with a spatula, and tasted it. Although it was burnt black, it was crispy, with a texture somewhat similar to potato chips, and a slightly bitter taste. She poured the rest into the trash can, the water hissing as it ran over the bottom of the pan. She washed the pan clean, dried it, and placed it back on the stove.

"I'll do it."

"But Touma told me to..."

"Can you help me wash the vegetables?" The gray-haired girl took carrots and spinach out of the shopping bag and handed them to Index.

Index paused for a moment, then nodded vigorously: "Yes!"

Kamijou Touma watched the two girls in the kitchen. The gray-haired girl skillfully cracked eggs, heated the pan, and poured oil, while Index clumsily but earnestly washed the vegetables, splashing water everywhere, and the corners of her mouth unconsciously turned up.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the fine dust particles floating in the air. The burnt smell gradually dissipated, replaced by the aroma of fried eggs and the steam rising from cooked rice.

Daily life goes on.

The interlude in the alley was like a stone thrown into a deep pool; it sank to the bottom without causing much of a ripple.

At least that's how it appears on the surface.