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

The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled, shimmering light on the asphalt. On a relatively quiet street in the Seventh School District, under the shade of sycamore trees, a shaved ice cart sat there, its glass display case still overflowing with a dazzling array of goods.

Kamijou Touma stood in front of the stall, awkwardly rummaging through his wallet with his still-functioning left hand. The exaggerated plaster cast on his right hand was blindingly white in the summer sunlight, attracting curious glances from the occasional passing student.

"Strawberry, lemon, honeydew melon...which flavor do you want?" He stared at the small blackboard in front of the stall and asked without turning his head.

"Honeydew!" Index answered almost immediately, her silver head pressed against the glass display case, her emerald eyes fixed on the bowl of pale green shaved ice. "The kind with condensed milk on top!"

"Okay, okay..." Touma Kamijou pressed the melon-scented button, and the machine hummed as it started operating. Then he turned to the gray-haired girl standing quietly to the side, "And you?"

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over the various colors displayed in the cabinet. "Strawberry..."

"Strawberry...then I'll have lemon flavor..." Kamijou Touma handed over the banknotes, finally choosing the most ordinary lemon flavor for himself. Three bowls of shaved ice were served one after another, the crystal-clear shaved ice piled up like small mountains, topped with syrup of their respective colors, trembling slightly in the plastic bowls.

Index couldn't wait any longer. She picked up her bowl, scooped out a large mouthful with the included spoon, and popped it into her mouth. The cool, sweet taste made her squint her eyes in satisfaction. "Delicious!"

The gray-haired girl took her strawberry shaved ice, but didn't start eating immediately. Instead, she observed it carefully. The white shaved ice refracted tiny sparkles in the sunlight, topped with a layer of clear red syrup. She picked up a spoon, carefully scooped up a small spoonful, and put it in her mouth.

The icy sensation melted instantly on her tongue, followed by a refreshing, slightly stimulating sweetness. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly.

"How is it?" Touma Kamijou asked, sitting down on the bench next to her with a lemon shaved ice. The shade from the trees made it a little cool.

"It's very cold..." she answered truthfully, taking another bite. "The sweetness and the coldness are separate, but together."

Touma Kamijou paused for a moment, then understood her unique way of describing it. He smiled and scooped up a spoonful of his own lemon shaved ice. The sweet and sour jam mixed with the shaved ice—it truly tasted like summer.

Index had already finished about half a bowl, with pale green syrup smeared at the corner of her mouth. She noticed the bench was almost full, and not wanting to get too hot huddled together, she went to sit on a nearby bench. "Hey... Touma, when can you get your cast off?"

"The doctor said to come back for a follow-up appointment tomorrow." Kamijou shook the heavy cast. "But I don't think it's that serious...maybe the hospital is overreacting."

"No way!" Index puffed out her cheeks. "That's the 'Dragon King's Sigh'! Touma was already amazing for blocking it with his right hand!"

She suddenly stopped, realizing she had brought up an unpleasant topic. Her emerald eyes secretly glanced at Touma Kamijou's expression.

Touma Kamijou calmly ate his shaved ice. "That's all in the past. What matters is now." He pointed to her bowl with his spoon, "Yours is melting."

"Ah!" Index quickly bent down to deal with her shaved ice.

The area under the shade of the trees was quiet for a while, with only the faint sound of a spoon scraping against a plastic bowl, the distant sound of cars on the street, and the rustling of sycamore leaves in the breeze. Occasionally, a student would ride by on a bicycle, the wheels rolling over the pavement and creating a brief gust of wind.

The gray-haired girl ate slowly, savoring each bite. Her gaze would sometimes fall on the shaved ice in her bowl, and sometimes look towards the end of the street, where tall buildings stood, their glass curtain walls reflecting the dazzling sunlight.

"Touma..." she suddenly said.

"Hmm?" Touma Kamijou turned to look at her.

She put down her spoon; most of the shaved ice in the bowl remained. Her grey eyes gazed calmly at him, a rare, almost hesitant look in them. Her lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but then hesitated, trying to find the right words.

Touma Kamijou waited patiently. He knew she wasn't good at expressing complex things and needed time.

"This morning..." she finally spoke, her voice softer than usual, "I met someone... she seemed to know me..."

"Really?"

"Hmm..." The gray-haired girl lowered her head in thought. "She gave me the feeling that she had seen me before, but she wasn't talking about me..."

She paused, her gaze returning to the sky. Things she could usually deduce now seemed impossible to discern. This expression made Touma's heart tighten slightly.

"A magician? Or..."

"It's not magic..." She shook her head, looking at her right hand. "It's something similar to me... but not exactly the same. I encountered it this morning near the supermarket."

She was referring to Kurumi Tokisaki, but Touma Kamijou was unaware of that incident.

"You encountered them? What happened?"

"She tried to attack me," the gray-haired girl stated calmly. "But I let her leave. She said she wouldn't bother me again."

"Wait, you were attacked? When? Why didn't you tell me?" Touma Kamijou's eyes widened.

"This morning, when I was buying groceries." She looked at him, a hint of confusion in her gray eyes, not understanding why Touma Kamijou was so concerned about her safety. "It's all taken care of. There's no danger."

"This isn't about whether it's dangerous or not!" Touma Kamijou scratched his head. "If someone attacks you, you should tell me! What if..."

"Touma's hand is injured, and Index needs protection. Since she came to me, it's my problem, and I'll handle it myself."

She said it so matter-of-factly, yet it made Touma's chest tighten. He wanted to argue, to say that he could help even with just one hand, but looking at his right hand in a cast, the words stuck in his throat.

She wasn't trying to be strong, nor was she trying to distance herself. She just... genuinely believed she could handle it and didn't want to add to his burden when he was already hurt.

"Alright." He finally sighed. "But next time something like this happens, at least let me know. Even if I can't help, at least... let me know."

The gray-haired girl looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then nodded gently. "Okay."

She picked up her spoon again, but instead of eating the shaved ice, she stared at the slowly melting shaved ice in the bowl. The afternoon sun shone through the gaps in the leaves, dancing on her long, gray hair.

"There's one more thing," she said again, her voice even softer this time, almost drowned out by the wind.

Touma Kamijou leaned closer. "What?"

She looked up, and his face was reflected in her gray eyes. There was a complex emotion in that gaze that Kamijou had never seen before, not confusion, not curiosity, but something deeper, almost "confirmation".

Touma Kamijou held his breath. Ever since he picked up the girl in the alley, she had maintained an almost indifferent attitude towards her past, as if it were a blank slate, not worth exploring. Touma Kamijou had also tacitly accepted her past, even giving her the nickname "White-Haired Little Sister."

But now, does it seem like she's finally going to speak?

"Touma...I..."

Her voice escaped her lips, but she stopped abruptly. Index suddenly leaned over from the side, her long silver hair almost brushing against her face.

"What are you whispering about?" Index blinked curiously with her pure, bright green eyes, her lips still smeared with melon syrup, and the shaved ice in her hand wobbled but didn't spill.

The gray-haired girl looked at her, opened her mouth, but ultimately did not continue the previous topic; she simply shook her head gently.

"What does that mean?" Index asked coquettishly, almost leaning onto the gray-haired girl's lap. "Tell me! I love studying mysterious phenomena!"

Looking at the gray-haired girl, Touma Kamijou noticed that the rare emotion in her eyes had faded, replaced by her usual calm. A pang of regret rose within him; it seemed the best opportunity had passed, and Mr. Kamijou had likely missed the most common chance in GalGames to increase affection.

The gray-haired girl lowered her head, scooped up a spoonful of half-melted shaved ice, and put it in her mouth. "It's nothing... just a feeling."

"Eh—? How cunning!" Index pouted, but her attention was quickly drawn to the shaved ice left in her bowl.

"Ah, mine is really melting!" She quickly sat back down and buried herself in dealing with the increasingly thin shaved ice, scooping it up with a wooden spoon, soup and all, and finally couldn't resist taking a sip.

Kamijou Touma gazed at the gray-haired girl's profile. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns of light on her beautiful, smooth hair. Her eyelashes drooped, obscuring her gray eyes, making it impossible to discern her emotions.

He wanted to ask, to continue the previous topic, to know what those so-called "feelings" were, to know what she felt, to know if danger was approaching, and to know if there was anything he could do to help her.

But watching her quietly eat her shaved ice, those questions remained unasked. There were some things she might not be ready to say, and some truths she herself might not have fully grasped.

But now, on this summer afternoon, under the shade of a tree, amidst the cool sweetness of shaved ice, perhaps the best choice is to stop the conversation here.

At least for now, there was peace and tranquility between them. To press for answers might mean losing the young woman's trust...

Touma Kamijou scooped up the last spoonful of lemon shaved ice. Much of the shaved ice had melted, and the syrup had seeped into it, making the sweetness even more intense. He put it in his mouth, and the cool sensation slid down his throat, dispelling the summer heat.

Index finally finished her bowl, sighed contentedly, and leaned back on the grass, her silver hair spreading out. "So delicious... Touma... Hey..."

"On the condition that you don't make syrup everywhere again..." Touma Kamijou wiped the traces from the corner of her mouth with a tissue, then took out a few coins and put them in Index's hand.

"I didn't!" Index protested, but her voice was tinged with laughter. Clutching the money in her hand, she ran back to the stall in the distance to queue up. As a result, because the afternoon sun was too strong, she hunched over like a wilted cabbage.

The gray-haired girl finished her last bite, put down her empty bowl, and looked towards the end of the street, where tall buildings stood, their glass curtain walls reflecting the scorching sunlight.

Her expression remained calm, but Touma noticed that her fingers gently clenched and then slowly relaxed on her knee. A tiny, almost imperceptible movement, as if she had grasped something and then let go of something.

"Touma..." she suddenly spoke again.

"Um?"

"Thank you for the shaved ice."

Touma Kamijou paused for a moment, then laughed. "There's no need to thank me."

"Because it's delicious..." She looked into Touma's eyes, her voice softening as if because he hadn't pressed her for answers, or perhaps because she genuinely felt safe with him. "And it tastes even better with you."

She spoke these words so calmly, yet they warmed Touma's heart. He looked at her, at her long, gray hair swaying gently in the breeze, at her serene profile, at her eyes that could see through everything yet remained clear.

"Hmm..." He responded confidently to the girl's anticipation, preparing to sign a magical contract with her. "Come again next time."

Life is full of surprises; you never know when you might get hurt or disappear. No matter how wonderful the life or how beautiful the person, they can vanish without a trace.

But saying "see you next time" is like signing a contract, giving people the courage and meaning to move towards tomorrow.

Kamijou Touma sends this contract to the girl; if she accepts it, it means she also cares about the contract.

"Okay...see you next time."

He was still uneasy, but she didn't hesitate at all.

Index ran back from the stall, brushing the shaved ice crumbs off her nun's robes. "Touma! Look, mango flavor!"

"Okay, okay, mango flavor..." Touma Kamijou stood up, patted the dust off his pants with his left hand, "Time to go back, I have homework to do this afternoon."

"What a pity..." He sighed habitually, remembering that he hadn't finished his summer homework yet, but there wasn't much real distress in his voice.

The three of them tidied up the empty bowls and spoons and threw them into the nearby trash can. Their short rest under the shade of the tree was over, and they stepped back into the sunlight, heading towards their dormitory.

The gray-haired girl walked at the back, glancing back at the swaying tree shade and the benches along the street.

The wind blew, and the leaves rustled.

In a nearby alley, a figure wearing a student uniform never seen before in this Academy City appeared, enjoying a bowl of blueberry shaved ice. In the rearview mirror of a car parked by the roadside, it was discovered that the tongue had turned blue.

"Oh my gosh~ This city is so... interesting~"

She finished her shaved ice and gently pressed her forehead, which was still frozen from the ice cream. Then she looked at the group of thugs behind her, and a flintlock pistol appeared out of thin air in her hand, its muzzle pointed at the forehead of one of them.

"So... what exactly is this 'skill-out' group you mentioned earlier?"