Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It all started on a tedious afternoon.

Scrunched up into a ball, the little girl snored, her breathing rhythmic, swallowed by a deep sleep. The air was mellow, even to the likes of the flimsy-built man whom the little girl was snuggling to in her sleep. His fervid eyes admired the girl's fragile features absentmindedly. His sleek fingers skimmed in her tawny locks, trying to be delicate; careful motions careful, as if grasping a precious flower, which holds a scent that could make a merciless tyrant simper. His arms cradled her form hesitantly, returning her lovely, innocent, honest affections.

The man sighed in contempt of himself, having trouble understanding why such simple actions were so hard to go through with. He thought about many things, but promptly shrugged them aside. The albino reached out for the nearest pillow—which was at his feet—and used it to rest his head. The natural sunlight was dim, dark clouds creeping around the skies of Academy City. Most of the lights in the Yomikawa residence were off. It was a good time to lazy around, even more so than usual. Tension leaving his shoulders, he pulled a generic blanket over himself and the ten year old girl. Time tick-tocked away, and just when his eyelids started to flutter shut, a sardonic voice broke out, disturbing the peace.

"So, Mister, getting tired of your joyful little life yet?" the russet-haired woman—barely weeks old, yet as old as him—asked as she struck a pose from her couch chair.

In short, it was ridiculous and mocking; exactly what he expected from the newly-hatched clone. The strongest Level 5 among Academy City's best craned his head upward, his eyes groggy from almost falling asleep seconds earlier.

"Don't you have anything better to do than pester me?" he answered her question with one of his own.

Misaka Worst shrugged; as much as someone with an arm in a sling can at least. Her boiling peach eyes glittered slightly as she mouthed off.

"Y'know, despite what you might think, you do show favoritism towards smaller Misakas."

"And I'm supposed to care about the shit dripping from your yap because…?"

"It's a observation on your mating preferences." The girl clad in a pink-white with flowery aodai chuckled, twirling a finger towards his resting form in the daybed. It was meant as an accusing jab. "So you are indeed a lolicon. Self-admitted, huh? Misaka respects your honesty."

Accelerator glared at her, not a hint of mutual amusement present. Worst bore a wicked grin. She lived off (and possibly got off) irking people, in any way possible. There was no dirty tactic beyond her means. If it meant calling someone a pedophile, well…that's what it took. Nothing personal, for the most part—it's all business. As in any good business, showing any sort of compassion could mean utter and total bankruptcy. Not than she could understand compassion, anyways.

Worst prodded further to deepen her fun, the albino still shooting daggers at her. "But really, if this Misaka was tiny and Last Order was big, who would you be embracing right now?"

Accelerator clicked his tongue in a dry "Tch" and told her to shut up and let him sleep. It only egged her to keep at it. "Are you evading the question because you don't know the answer yourself?" Worst asked, shifting into a over-exaggerated thoughtful pose.

He remained cold silent for a minute before mumbling, "How the fuck should I know? The question and premise is stupid. Everything you say makes no sense." At that moment, Last Order also mumbled something, in her sleep, although that was indiscernible.

"So perhaps Misaka could end up in a similar position to that kid?"

"Why do you even fucking bother?" he snarled and buried himself in the soothing pillow.

"Because Misaka is curious how it feels," she admitted plainly. "It must feel good for you to let her do that, right? Else, what would be the point?"

Accelerator remained unmoving, the fragile girl still in his arms; bliss on her lips and cheekbones. The biologically older clone knew he was listening, even if he appeared to radiate apathy.

"Misaka is actually pretty curious about such things," she explained, her eyes wandering to the nearest window. "About affection and sorts. Misaka doesn't get it."

With her left hand rubbing circles into her temples, she grunted as a mark of frustration.

"You're not the most appropriate person to ask, but what are you feeling right now?"

Quietly, devoid of his usual roughness, he answered in a surprisingly modest voice.

"I…don't know."

"You don't know?" She quirked her head sideways, puzzled.

"I guess you got to feel it to understand."

Worst scowled at his empty answer. This whole matter had bothered her inexplicitly for some reason. These kind of boring and peaceful days left a lot of room for such interrogations to fill her psyche.

"But seriously," she began, her tone a notch more sober, "does the person you embrace actually matter? Misaka doubts you'd feel comfortable if I were in that kid's place."

The albino calmly spun his head around, his crimson eyes scrutinizing her. "Like I care…"

"…Then you wouldn't mind hugging Misaka?"

"…What?"

The Level 4 didn't think about it, and that passing thought left her throat. She just felt like asking. It left the Level 5 bewildered somewhat. He proceeded to glare at her for a few seconds, before pulling the blanket slightly over his face, then going to sleep.

Worst sank into her seat, left to her own ruminations as the two lovebirds were tweeting in their dreams.

She wondered why was it that she hoped to be hugged and be in Last Order's place. In Accelerator's arms no less. Jealousy because of the Network? Simple enough. But, why couldn't she picture herself being in the landlady's arms or even that kid's? Last Order had done it a couple of times, but that didn't leave anything "special" within her. No warmness, no soothing feeling… Just a cold turkey aftertaste.

Why did her mind have this sudden obsession on having Accelerator hug her?

Considering the closest thing to a hug he ever dished out to her was breaking her arm, why did she imagine herself being held by him? Worst admitted that she envied the Commander—or to be more precise—her ability to feel such things. It looked so…so nice, so wholesome to be held in an embrace. With a pang of longing, she observed the two on the couch, her peach eyes taking in the sight at its fullest. His arms held her frame with care, a rogue hand in her hair, gently caressing and feeling the pleasant texture.

Misaka Worst admitted it in her heart: she really did want to experience that kind of proximity, without ill intent in any way.

The russet-haired woman scoffed at the images forming in her head: Her, tucked into Accelerator's collar, with his hands petting her like a shy kitten. Worst wasn't scoffing at the interesting feeling it would bring; it was towards the notion that Accelerator or herself could end up in such a predicament.

Maybe if I were a different person, she quietly thought.

After all, her sole purpose was to kill him; her whole existence was supposed to have been dedicated to that single purpose. And now, for some strange reason beyond her, she was in this bloodless existence that shouldn't have been hers to begin with.

She should have died in the chilling cold of Russia, no matter what had transpired between her and Accelerator.

However… He, completely consumed by a sickening darkness, ink black wings spreading from his back as the symbol of that mental state, had saved her.

Despite having broken him piece by piece, cackling over his soulless body as she did so—destroying the very foundation that allowed him to go on—he had saved her despite all that.

That's when I had an idea—a sort of test for Number One. You could call it selfish, but eh, that's what I do; I wanted to feel those foreign emotions and feelings for my own—not just what Last Order and Accelerator shared that afternoon in the sofa—no, it was more than that.

I wanted to understand things which are beyond my emotional compass, which is constantly doused by the Network's darkest portions. It pissed me off that I couldn't understand those basic things that seemed trivial to most.

However…

What I had I mind—a borderline erotic prank that wouldn't go very far—turned into something else entirely.

Well, I was surprised. Stunned might be more appropriate.

I couldn't have predicted Number One would actually play along and respond to my prank in such a way.

All I really wanted was for Tou-san to hug me…

Chapter Text

Darkness, it surrounded them. The light were off, and the birds slept in their cages.

Night.

But, not for those two.

They were beginning a seductive dance—one where they displayed their feathers and paraded around—spraying pheromones to attract the matching and appropriate mate. It sounds all quite poetic, though in reality it wasn't remotely dignified, and it appeared that the dance was only practiced by the female.

In the darkness of the bedroom, the strongest esper had his back against a wall, distinctly feminine arms hooked around his neck, latching onto him.

The huntress licked her lips at the big catch she had in her grasp. His legs collided with hers, tangling and engaged in a power struggle for dominance, but because only the full moon provided lighting they couldn't know who was winning and who was losing the war. That little skirmish didn't matter anyhow.

The huntress, smirking and pulling her prey in, let the fleshy blade that is her nose collide with his again and again, letting them clash and heat up from the friction. Each brush, each strike, got them closer, mere breaths away from their wet rims—and as a by-product, the other's body.

"What are you doing…" the man with white bleached hair whispered, still fighting for his life against the relentless assault from the femme fatale.

Moonlight casted fine shadows out of her russet cut, which hid her eyes and her intentions from the his scrutinizing gaze; he was in a similar situation. The only thing they barely made out was their mouth itching closer as the albino was losing the blade battle.

"You're the one not stopping Misaka…" she slurred softly, grazing his black choker with her newly rejuvenated right hand.

Her remaining hand gripped his nape, pulling on strands of snow-white hair to compensate for the lack of her other, who traces circles on his thin torso covered by nightwear.

Their lips were mere millimetres apart, the swordfight winner now decided—and she was looking for her Olympic gold medal—as warm aromas seeped out of their husky breaths, mingling and mixing pleasantly for them to take in. Their fringes, still hiding what the other was orchestrating deep in their twisted psyche, were lifted as a breeze from the slightly opened window blew by. They could finally see the other full and naked for a brief moment, and at that the albino latched onto her lower back and pushed forward; something that stunned Misaka Worst.

They met, and the battle began anew. Nowhere as skilled with her new arsenal, the seductress tried to hold the line with tactics, but the invasion she was up against was far too barbaric. Her tusk barricade was breached, and pillaging followed. There was not a single thing she could do except holding her breath in so the bandits wouldn't hear her.

Out of it, she parted away for air, but was crushed back into a fierce kiss. Her mind was a haze, and to her great amusement she couldn't tell if it was herself or him that had initiated the second battle. Again, she lost and had to retreat, now firmly out of his reach.

"You're pretty bad at this. If your intention was to play me like a fiddle, you've failed," was his first comment, snide as ever.

"You're pretty bad yourself, not letting Misaka breathe properly," was her equally snide retort.

To both, it was their first two kisses.

Craning over, she rested herself on his slender body, feeling his calm pulse amid the sensual fire. Her pulse was calm as well, though hers was going a tad faster that usual.

She was starting to figure this whole thing out; not as complicated as she thought.

"Not even phased at all?" she hummed, raising her lips to his ear. "Honestly, Misaka was hoping for some unexpected reaction, but she did no expect you'd actually do the deed first."

"I don't want to hear shit like that coming from somebody who broke into my fucking room, woke me up and pinned me down to the wall. You really think I'd let myself to your game?" he hissed, and she leaned in more—if that was even possible—letting her arms droop to his slim waist.

"You could have just pushed Misaka away. Why did you suddenly decide 'I must kiss her before she does!' was a valid excuse?"

Accelerator's silence made the Third Season clone squeal a little on the inside. Every time she got that sort of stone-cold silent reaction out of Accelerator, it was a sign that he was speechless. Perhaps it was his way to show embarrassment. Whatever it meant, it made her smirk in a dark, almost evil way.

"Remember that time with the ice cream, in the park? Misaka remembers laying out an offer out for you," she purred, suggestively pressing against him, making him explicitly aware of her muliebrity—a trait Last Order couldn't offer him, to say the least.

The albino frowned, lips twitching, cursing at himself.

"…You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he snarled again, starting to let his nails dig into her skin through her buttoned-up nightshirt.

"Quite. Misaka revels in your awkwardness and the prospect of Last Order seeing this, thus ruining your fatherly relationship," she honestly replied with a wicked smile. "Plus, seeing your repressed sexuality is priceless. You just want to jam it down my throat, don't cha?"

He glared at her and clicked his tongue, letting it echo through the tenebrous bedroom, almost like a bat trying to make out its surroundings. It was too dark to actually see straight anyway.

"Bitch… What's your fucking problem?"

Her shrill yet soft laughs answered him.

Without asking, she grazed her teeth across is neck and nibbled his neck, latching onto her prey. He grunted and stood still, letting her mark his skin as she pleased. He had to, or simply didn't care as a matter-of-fact. Even he didn't know as of yet.

What should I do? What can I do? he asked himself, biting his lower lip.

"If I were to sit on your lap," croaked Worst, stopping her sucking and tasting of his ghostly skin, "Misaka would end up feeling a poking stick on her butt after a few minutes, no doubt."

Accelerator's curving mouth indicated annoyance, and to prevent his lashing out, she crashed her lips against his again, tightening her hold—he did the same as to not let her win—their ego was on the line. As their tongues clashed yet again, Worst wondered what was that smell impregnated into his skin, or more so, the lack of. Taking a little whiff as she deepened the carnal kiss, she concluded he smelled like…some disinfected industrial machinery; clean for the moment, until it was started up again to pump out the goodies.

It didn't really matter anyway.

"I really don't get you," the Level 5 said between quick, hastening, savagely wet lip-locks.

"Ah?" Worst smiled, taunting him.

"…Is being an annoying brat all you can do?" he asked the shadowy figure his blood-red eyes could perceive in the darkness.

Worst lightly pushed (tripped) him onto the wrinkled bed sheets, letting him out of the hold of her claws as she threw herself onto his lap, giving some playful hip grinds. Most would have already lost themselves right there in then.

"Me, annoying brat? Says the one who protects such an 'annoying brat' with all his might. Misaka wouldn't call what she is doing right now annoying." She winked, her strained amber eyes fixating the figure downwards. "If anything, shouldn't you thank me and venerate me as a living sex goddess? At least try your luck and grope Misaka's butt at the very least. Isn't that a dream for normal guys? Or are you so dedicated to said brat that she's the only one you can touch? Fufu~"

"Leave. Her. Out. Of. This." He spat in anger. "I don't even want to hear you bitch and moan about her anymore. Are you fucking jealous? Get over it, and dig out whatever is up your fucking ass."

Snickering, the sinister clone spewed out in a chillingly calm voice her thoughts that were no longer held back by anything.

"Get over it? Misaka can't and won't. Misaka was built like this. Misaka can't change; Misaka won't change. Misaka thought you already understood this. That's how I've been designed by the abso-fucking-lutly wonderful cloners, remember? This Misaka holds the darkness of over 10000 Sisters within her. Misaka cannot 'Get over it' as you say, even if she wanted to."

She was unredeemable in her tongue. It sounded as a matter-of-fact statement devoid of emotional involvement.

But…

Even in the dimness in which his eyes where useless, he perceived something distinct while his deep animosity towards her childish, overt, and obsessive jealousy of Last Order boiled in his brain.

Can't change? Won't change? Hadn't he heard those kind of statements before? Accelerator's mind stung after he rolled those words on his tongue. That kind of self-defeating pattern was what he used to tell himself before a certain boy showed him otherwise on the snowy plains of Russia.

Even the worst of the worst can change their ways, no matter how far down they are in Darkness; all they have to do was will it

The gravity of the situation slowly unwrapped itself before him, like a shiny Christmas gift being prided open. Her actions didn't make any common sense, as expected—suddenly bursting midnight into your less-than-friend's room, and out-of-nowhere, start making out with him—now that's logical.

Since Misaka Worst operates on the WORST of emotions stored up in the Misaka Network, that alone seemed like the explanation as to what she doing, with her latching onto Accelerator and—quite honestly—appropriating him as hers and hers alone.

Jealousy was one of the most glaring emotions Worst manifested, mainly towards Last Order, and even Yomikawa at times. Seeing their relationship with him pulled her strings the wrong way, he guessed.

But why…well, this? Just to be mindlessly nasty by toying with his hormones? Perhaps, but the way she approached him tonight told him otherwise. What exactly was she trying to attain right now?

Sexual gratification…?

What was he now, some sort of human vibrator...?

Definitely it involved him in some way.

What this was all about though was Worst's naughty little secret.

Was it even downright sexual at this point—or was it just a weapon against him?

Accelerator's brow twitched as he stared down with Worst, who was topping him. Her face hadn't moved a damn inch. It still was spiteful as ever—sick and twisted, puke-inducing.

Was this whole ordeal the Network's influence, or her own will?

Actually, does she even have an untainted freewill? One could argue that all her thoughts receive outward influence and are never purely inward.

Thinking that deeply, Accelerator wouldn't blame her for it. He just couldn't. If anything, she was the victim of some twisted design by a madly guffawing scientist, the same kind like that scrapped bastard Kihara Amata or the gaunt and cowardly Amai Ao.

"Misaka was created in order to kill you. Misaka didn't particularly want to be born, but she was forced to do so. In order to cut off the signals from Last Order, her skin was cut open and a bunch of strange sheets and selectors were embedded within. If it weren't for you, none of that would have happened. If you hadn't made that decision, Misaka would never have been born. And even if she had been, it would not have been in that way that cut off all chance for a future. 'It hurts… Help...' By the time Misaka learned those words, she was already in a situation where she could not say them. That is why Misaka has the right to blame you. That is why she has a reason to kill you."

For that—those words she had spoken before—Accelerator thought of Misaka Worst as someone who needs help, though not requiring protection per say. She wasn't fragile and weak like Last Order.

What she needed help with was to get out of her own personal darkness.

Accelerator wasn't the best role model, by far. He could admit that without holding any grudge, as he knew the darkness rather well, and decided to opt-out of it to live the peaceful existence he always secretly craved for. Misaka Worst had trouble adjusting to this new newfound peaceful existence herself, and he definitely understood that aspect.

Not being on the battlefield, it unnerved him as much as her; it didn't feel right. They needed to disassociate the soothing feeling of rightness from conflict and bloodshed. Now, imagine having to do that with constant waves of malice being pumped into your brain.

Whoever designed her, Accelerator wanted to string him up.

But why did he even show concern for someone like Misaka Worst in the first place, someone who no doubts despise him? She wasn't Last Order, and even if she is a Misaka clone, he didn't have to worry that much about her.

Yet he wanted to help.

Showing "goodwill" as Yomikawa usually said?

Or maybe it was some sort of love?

For someone like him, a mass murderer by many—if not all—definitions, to love anything might it be platonic or otherwise was laugh-out-loud dark comedy material.

However he couldn't deny what it had done to him; it had been what let him escape the his own vicious cycle.

Last Order's love he finally reciprocated when he sang, ready to die just to give her back a smile—the gushing blood that seeped from his body still vivid in his mind—he would endure that again in a heartbeat if that was needed.

Then there was the love his guardian Yomikawa dished out, might it be a punch or a hug, maybe both…

Even Yoshikawa, who had seen firsthand the carnage and murder he once caused…

And that might be what she needs—someone who can understand her and put up with her…, the albino reflexively swallowed his spit, his thoughts crystal clear, …And in the end, make her a better person, if even just a bit. That fucking hero, he made the Sisters realize they weren't disposable dolls with only words and actions, making them understand the value of their life. If I work at it, I could affect that brat in such a way.

At that precise moment, he muttered in his mouth so said brat couldn't hear him. It was a Promise of sorts: That he would bring her out of this personal darkness of hers, and he could make her enjoy this daily life along with him and Last Order. Somehow. Two individuals, wired for battle and killing, would leave that all behind them if that was the last thing he did.

A rigid finger poked at his forehead.

"Oi, are you spacing out that far into the game? Ho, don't tell me that you're blushing since you're not saying anything. Did the body of a High school girl 'Awaken' your own~?"

The target of his thoughts spoke, her voice rang in his ears, and on a purely instinctive whim, he reached out and held her hips in place, same who rested on his lap, teasingly grinding against him, and then her back to make her arch downwards as he held her close.

Their hearts were now going at a much faster speed than before, even Accelerator's. They could practically hear the thundering throbs in their chest all the way up to their ears.

Worst looked up, surprised by his sudden strange behavior, as if he hadn't been attacking strange enough already.

"…Here is your hug, and enjoy my lap…spoiled brat." He sighed next to her ear, guiding her head into him. His fingers glided her scalp, and her chin tucked into his collarbone.

An unknown feeling washed over Worst. It…it feels… She closed her eyes, …good. Yeah…I understand what that kid gets out of this. She genuinely grinned.

"Oi oi, I haven't agreed to any of this hugging stuff Number One."

"You waved your right to complain long ago." He whispered, biting his lower lip. There was something in Accelerator's voice that made Misaka Worst's face go blank.

"…Mr. Honor Student really is blushing, isn't he? You're actually doing such a thing?-! What kind of softie are you? I can't believe it!" Worst chuckled in a vicious victorious tone.

Of course, she had no way to know if indeed there was red on the thin albino's face because of how dimly lit the bedroom was. But she trusted her instincts on this.

Accelerator wasn't taking it lightly and—in a way that can only be classified as Tsundere-ish—he literally huffed.

"Misaka guesses even you aren't immune to normal physiological responses," she said in a mock lady-esque manner.

"…Maybe, but so are you," he uttered as his hands which rested on her lower back snaked downward and scooped up her buttocks, clasping them firmly, kneading at the softness. Worst choked on a gasp at that. He had to admit this was gratifying. It was his turn to grin.

"You're being unfair with Misaka…" She faked a pout.

"Isn't that what you came here for?" He pointed out her lecherous and painfully obvious intents.

"My my, it seems like Misaka has turned on a switch hmm~?" she badgered, almost breaking into a song.

The snarling retort wasn't heard as Accelerator's voice was caught up in Worst's throat as she kissed him again.

Within the darkness, there was a faint pinkish glow. However faint it was, and whoever was the source of it, it was the mark of a Promise. Dishonest as it would look on the outside, it was a Promise nonetheless.

And, from the corner of her eyes, Misaka Worst noticed a subtle movement by the bedroom's door. She had left it slight open when she came in, hoping for such a thing.

Worst smirked as she continued to eat up Accelerator's face.

"'…is what Misaka saw and that is when Misaka came to you.' recounts Misaka as Misaka feels very dirty having seen such an erotic situation from the crack of the opened bedroom door…"

Last Order had woken up during the middle of the night because there was an emptiness in her bed. Even since her return to Academy City, she shared a bed with Misaka "Sister-chan" Worst. It was already a marvel how five people could fit in the Yomikawa residence. The only problem was the fact that there was only three bedrooms.

Accelerator, for obvious reason, had his own room. Back on the 30th of September, while they were driving to the apartment after being discharged from A Certain Hospital, Yomikawa had joked around, mentioning that "Men need a bunk to retreat to", which amused her and Yoshikawa. The Level 5 scoffed while Last Order was left clueless. Accelerator had learned from such moments that P.E. teachers could be really good at getting crap past the radar.

Wondering why Sister-chan had disappeared, sad that the huggable and warm human plush was gone, and feeling a swell in her bladder—Last Order had decided on a two-part plan.

– Get to the bathroom ASAP and do a "Number One".

– Investigate Misaka Worst's disappearance.

After a short trip to the toilet, the ten-year-old overheard strange noises from Accelerator's room.

What she peeked at made her face explode in multiple shades of scarlet, light and deep.

No, Sister-chan and Accelerator hadn't and didn't do that—thankfully—because Last Order innocent mind was racing and confused.

The two mature women who had been woken up, Yomikawa Aiho and Yoshikawa Kikyou, sat on their bed, a shaking Last Order by their side.

…And before you ask, yes, Accelerator figured that the friendship between Yomikawa and Yoshikawa—all the way back to High school and beyond—had certain benefits to it. His first tipoff? Yomikawa being a P.E. teacher. Don't even start with the "Hey, we might 'sleep' together but that's because we don't have any choice" bullshit—that was just a convenient excuse. You don't need to be an Austrian or do crack to figure this shit out.

Sometimes a cigar is just two single women in their thirties that "[…]make the pussy purr with the stroke of [their] hand." Cat Scratch Fever. Classy shit.

Yoshikawa was busy reassuring the little girl who had seen too much for her poor mind, telling her the bad images would go away. The researcher wondered if this data would end up being transmitted to the Misaka Network, which could very well end in a disaster. Yoshikawa had trouble picturing the clones reacting well to being force-fed the images of Accelerator and their unique little Sister-chan engaged in darn deep skinship.

Meanwhile, Yomikawa seemed very—

"T-This is...! The legendary forbidden fruit between a father and daughter...!" Yomikawa stammered, waving around and blushing like a little boy peeking into a lady's bathroom, until Yoshikawa knocked her on the head, much like she used to when Yomikawa was a jock back in their High school days.

"Aiho, stop drooling over two kids, you old pervert..."

"But Kikyou! We discussed this before! She was supposed to be Accelerator's elder daughter and Last Order the younger one! Him being all ero-ero with her messed up our calculations!"

Yoshikawa sighed, petting Last Order's hair while putting up with another child.

"…If I let you use the cuffs, will you snap out of it and help me soothe this poor little girl's trauma? Moreover, shouldn't we make sure those two aren't doing something they'll regret? You're the P.E. teacher after all; go handle it."

Yomikawa straightened up and gave her a thumbs up. "On the case, Captain Kikyou!" A healthy smile adorned her face as she winked, "I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

"'Misaka is now worried by the look on Yomikawa's face.' mutters Misaka mutters Misaka as her trembling intensives…"

"Well, have fun with those nice memories. Want Misaka to bring you some KY as to rub one out for the night?"

"Just get out of here before anyone figures out what you've been doing."

"You mean what we've been doing." Worst stared down with Accelerator at his bedroom's door. She was still madly grinning from everything that had happened. "You better take responsibility if Misaka gets pregnant."

"…Please don't fuel my nightmares with such high-octane material. Besides, unlike you I studied basic Biology—and I'm more than 200% sure you can't get pregnant from kissing."

"Or groping a plump A+ Misaka butt," Worst interjected, blinking and taking a mock shy posture that consisted of fidgeting and closing her legs in a self-conscious way. "You're making Misaka's body all naughty Tou-san~ She might have to squeeze one out herself~"

"Whatever…." He rolled his eyes into the very back of his eye sockets.

"My my, are you disappointed you couldn't get to that point?"

The door slammed shut and was locked from the inside without another word said.

Misaka Worst sighed, rubbing her shoulders, tip-toeing in the hallway.

How she hadn't expected that her little prank would mutate into a make-out session with Academy City's Number One, nor did she seriously expect Last Order would see it. The original plan was for the Commander to stumble onto her Sister-chan pinning Accelerator down to a wall, right as she was about to "kiss" the second savior of the Misaka Network; when actually she was going to shove a red jalapeno pepper down his throat. It was still in her nightwear's pockets too.

At her shared bedroom's door, there was some sort of spartan-like woman standing there, a "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" expression on her face. Was she channelling Gandalf?

"Oh, it's the landlady—"

"What were you doing back there?" The firm question caught her immediately. It didn't' leave room for consideration.

"…Having a bit of fun?" Worst answered with a sinister simper.

The big-breasted spartan-like landlady frowned. It wasn't a disapproving frown, nor was it approving. Misaka Worst's warped brain only saw an opportunity.

She said, while sounding pensive, "So that bastard has been building up a harem with an Onee-san option too…"

"What are you taking about—"

Chomp.

Something red and hot made its way into Yomikawa's mouth while she had spoken.

Her teeth cut the deadly pepper so its seeds and juices spread.

The Anti-Skill's face seared painfully red.

And then…

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!-! IT BUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRNNNNNNS!-!"

Nobody that night had gotten a good night's sleep.

Chapter Text

"That Yomikawa…" Accelerator muttered under his breath as he prepared rice with the numerous rice-cookers at his immediate disposal.

The Physical Education teacher and Anti-Skill member Yomikawa Aiho was stuck on a duty call apparently. Some months ago, it would have been no biggie as she lived alone, but now she had three youthful mouths to feed. Yoshikawa was off to wherever, and even then she didn't know how to cook, no matter how many times Yomikawa showed her. It reached a point where the researcher had to be kept away from rice pouches because she murdered them in her vain attempts to prove herself as a competent adult and mother figure.

It was getting late, and Last Order was wailing about her hunger, and in turn Misaka Worst decided to join in for the shit and giggles (and because of the indirect influence Last Order had over her via the Network), and most important of all, to annoy Accelerator.

Like unfed birdies they acted.

"What the hell do you want me to do, you brats!" Accelerator's snarls weren't effective against the two Misaka sisters.

"Cook for us Tou-san," Worst stated while attacking him from one side, trying to tickle his armpits.

"'Misaka wholly agrees!' exclaims Misaka as Misaka jumps up and down the couch to cause a ruckus!"

"No." He remained iron-willed and fought back Worst's tickle attack by swatting his hand. She pouted and puffed her cheeks as she looked around, pinching her chin in a thoughtful manner.

"Ah, if that's how you want to play, then Misaka will swap every disk in the DVD collection into wrong cases, then Misaka will squeeze out all the toothpaste onto the bathroom mirror. See? Misaka can carry out aggressive negotiations and have her own victory march as well."

"…"

There was no doubt the spiteful clone would do exactly that. But the finishing blow came from his daugh—Last Order—that was a Freudian slip or something. The ten-year-old had stopped her bouncing and mellowed out. Under the cutest, most moe demeanor imaginable, she approached Accelerator.

"'Misaka… Misaka wants to taste your homely cooking.' mutters Misaka mutters Misaka as she tugs at Accelerator's sleeve."

The albino's face stiffened. It was a wonder to him how blood did not start gushing out his nose; thankfully this wasn't a stupid anime where the laws of nature bended as to provide comedic opportunities. So at a lost and not willing to endure the music any longer, Accelerator put on an apron and started cooking.

The Misaka duo bore much satisfaction.

Now, by any definition, he is no accomplished gourmet chef. When he lived alone, before August 31st, he always ate pre-made food from the supermarket or ate at the nearest family restaurant. Eating was only a bother to him and it wasn't something he took interest or pleasure in; garbage in, garbage out. If it were for his iron-will alone, canned coffee would be the only thing entering his body.

Ever since he returned from the battlefield of World War 3 and started to live a peaceful everyday life outside the darkness, he had to find ways to kill time. Taking care of the brat and putting up with Worst's erratic behavior took a good chunk of his day. When he was not doing any time-wasting activities like watching TV or being glomped by Last Order, he read books—some that laid on Yomikawa's bookshelf, others he happened to in stores or libraries. One such book was about cooking 101.

Apparently the two sisters noticed, which is why they bugged him about dinner in the first place.

What they didn't know was that he had read 35 pages tops out of 250 before declaring himself impotent in that field and moving on to better reading.

That didn't stop Last Order from squealing at the mere thought of tasting the food…—or maybe it was Yomikawa's white apron…?

"'A family-oriented Accelerator in a apron really looks good!' says Misaka as Misaka remembers her past statement!"

Accelerator sulked; he really started to regret putting it on now. Him wearing that apron and cooking like some housewife gave Worst a foreboding and certainly evil grin.

This wouldn't end well.

It couldn't.

"Ah~ Misaka is only interested in Tou-san wearing an apron if he grew breasts, and if that would be the only thing he wore. A good submissive maid, ready to be spanked if she disobeys~" Worst winked towards Accelerator, who was in the kitchen overlooking the livingroom.

If his hands weren't busy, he would've flipped her off.

Boy, that didn't come right… Oh God, she's rubbing off on me…! His sulk turned to a full-fledged scowl. …DAMN IT! MY THOUGHT PATTERNS TOO…?-! Academy City's One-Way Road bit his tongue, shaking off the numerous (unintentional) innuendos.

"'Hmm, Accelerator in a maid outfit?' says Misaka says Misaka as she visualizes the image." It didn't take long for drool to foam out of her mouth.

"Schoolgirl outfit with a mini-skirt is better for Misaka's amusement. Hyahahaha!" Worst's laugh stabbed at his brain.

Hearing them blabber such nonsense, Accelerator 'Redirected' the stupid away. Already, Worst was one heck of a thing to deal with—not mention those things that happened a few days ago—but when the two team up…

He shuddered.

Worst managed to rope in Last Order into her teasing games all too often, which results in…

"'But having accidently glanced at it in the bath that one time, Misaka can't say an Accelerator maid is biologically possible.' states Misaka as Misaka saddens at the impossible prospect of an Accelerator meido."

…spilling out things like that completely out-of-context, which fuels Misaka Worst to no end. Like fully-charged batteries as if she was a mass-produced toy—a horrifying prospect. (1)

'That time' which Last Order was referring to was when Yomikawa forced him to take a bath with Last Order back in the hospital, on September 14th. Well, of course, if they took a bath together they would end up seeing things. That hadn't bothered Accelerator, and in a typical blunt matter of his, he opted to not coyly cling to his towel to hide. It's called bathing for a fucking reason, shitheads.

Try telling that to Worst; how wide her lips spread reached a point where her jaw might snap clean off. "My my, what things have you been doing to this kid while I wasn't looking? Defiling Misaka's chasity? Misaka might have to call the authorities! You lolicon!" she accused mockingly.

The Commander tried to wave it off. "M-Misaka wants to c-clarify as Misaka—"

"OI! If you two don't shut your fucking mouths up right now, I'm leaving you to starve!" the Level 5 threatened as he brandished a sharpened knife at them.

"BUT TOU-SAN!"

Accelerator grumbled at their whining, then mercilessly swung his blade and chopped up vegetables to disperse his ill temper.

Damn, cooking is tough enough as it is, and I can only use one hand. Fucking ridiculous.

Since he needed his right hand to hold himself upright with his cane, he had to juggle things with his left. Out of pure ego, he refused to use his powers to do this. He also wasn't getting any help from the aodai-wearing girl who was old enough to be in the kitchen—and you know…—helping a motherfucking cripple?

All she did was wink suggestively—and when Last Order didn't look—blow kisses in the air with subtle grace.

But there was no opting out. If he could not manage to feed Last Order, what kind of useless bastard was he? To stand as a father-figure, he had to master these kind of basic skills. Yomikawa wouldn't be around forever.

…Even doing a round of practice at the gun range with this weak left hand of mine is easier than this!

Throughout most of the meal-making, he was going on a whim and improvised. Even after "reading" the book, he had no real idea how to handle the bare essentials. It was like he was going purely on survival instincts.

Still, it went better than expected.

He only had to use the fire extinguisher once.

Then came the last obstacle.

The Onion.

No, not the internet website, an actual onion.

If he remembered right, this was an essential part of the recipe he was doing.

It was called…

...Well…

…

A-anyways…

Faced with the brown bulb, he hesitated to start chopping it into fine slices—reason is that he wasn't sure if he could make it through without shedding tears.

Gritting his teeth, Accelerator started to work as quickly as he could, slashing away at the onion savagely. About halfway through, he swore he was going to lose, but he bit his bottom lip and managed to survive with his manhood and pride intact.

Accelerator hastily stepped away from the chopping board to evade the stinging air, almost cracking a sigh of relief.

…Then he had little bits of onion unexpectedly shoved in his face.

"Tch!"

There was no doubt in his mind. Without having seen the culprit with his strained eyes, he knew who it was.

"WORST!" He shouted while swinging his arms in a fit of rage.

The culprit declared victory as she strafed and dodged the punches. She was displaying a huge smile fit more for troll living under a bridge than a High school–aged girl.

"Teeheehee~ Misaka finally gets to see your cute crying face~" she teased, faking a bashful girly voice.

"I'M NOT CRYING DAMMIT!"

It wasn't very convincing. Although the bits of onions were now on the floor, his eyes were red (is that even possible?-!) and several tears unwillingly seeped from them. Last Order gasped deeply at the sight of her apparently cry-cute guardian. She felt her legs falter, and Misaka Worst had to catch her mid-fall.

"'Mi-Misaka feel so light-headed…' mumbles Misaka as Misaka struggles for her consciousness…"

Worst, still bearing a mocking expression, looked at Accelerator who had his head in the sink, with cold water on to soothe the pain in his eyes.

She couldn't help but jab a finger at him and crack up.

"Pfff! Hahahahaha! Kawaii desu ne~"

CRACK!

That was the last straw.

Accelerator developed an ominous aura, several cross-popping veins reflecting his utter anger. It was a miracle that the Black Wings didn't emerge from his back.

Accelerator flipped the switch on his choker to activate ESP mode, and he had that all-too familiar expression on his lips.

Worst flinched, now waving her hands in defence. "W-Wait! Even if Misaka's arm has recovered, it's still weak! You can't hurt a Misaka clone, remember?"

He advanced forward. Worst clung to Last Order as a human shield.

He disregarded that as he approached her, and he spelled out in the most threatening way: "…I can make an exception for this one time."

In the end, even after Accelerator caught Worst, he couldn't do anything to her since she would probably enjoy getting 100 spanks.

Plus, Last Order had regained consciousness and was hungry, so he finished putting together the "meal".

Saying it tasted like shit was an understatement.

Worst said it best: "Beyond redeemable. No talent whatsoever. I award you no points, and may the Gods of Cooking have mercy on you. Game over; try again, Mr. Honor Student." At least she was honest about it, even if it was for her nefarious satisfaction. You could appreciate her blunt honesty at times.

For a moment, Accelerator was reminded of a certain vegetarian shotacon who couldn't cook a single meal without goofing it completely. Back in his days with GROUP, Tsuchimikado had once teased her about it and she decided to prove him wrong by "cooking" up "something". Whatever that black charred thing she presented as edible food back then only served as more teasing material. Accelerator was sure even his abomination tasted better than Musujime's trash.

Yet he felt a form of understanding for the exhibitionist. At least we do have something in common, he thought, stabbing the "food" in his plate.

But despite how bad it tasted, Last Order seemed to love it and defended it in front of her little sister; it was quite ridiculous to think of Last Order as the older one, but Misaka Worst seemed to accept the role, so eh, what can you do… It might not look like it, but technically speaking and based on their numbering, Misaka Worst is Last Order's little sister.

"'Lies! This is Accelerator's delicious food peppered with love!' argues Misaka as Misaka gobbles up the food to prove her point!"

"Oh, so protective of your boyfriend~" Worst teased, which caused Last Order to blush madly.

"Wh-what are you suggesting? Didn't you—" Last Order put her hands over her mouth when she realized what she was saying. She clearly remembered having peeked at Accelerator and Misaka Worst doing…things that she probably shouldn't have seen days ago—although they didn't know that. Last Order couldn't let suspicions arise yet. She had isolated the data in the Misaka Network for further reviewing, in such a way that no Sisters could find, let alone decipher the backed-up memories.

"Aw, so cute when you're blushing Onee-chan~"

"Knock it off and let her eat in peace," Accelerator grumbled as he held back the puke his toxic food induced.

"Bah, party-pooper Tou-san…" Worst shifted her attention to Accelerator—her favourite plaything—and observed a rather interesting detail.

"Oi oi, Accelerator."

"What?"

"Misaka wants to know why you are still wearing that apron even though you're done cooking. Is Tou-san actually comfortable in it?"

At that moment, Accelerator tightened his fist and he began to wave it up and down, waggling it as a threat..

"Shaking your hand like that in a back and forth motion looks like—"

Before she uttered the next words, Accelerator fixated Worst's right arm with a sadistic intent.

She stopped and remained quiet for the rest of supper time.

"…Breasts…" Last Order's dejected form, her knees sprawled on the apartment's floor, muttered this as she tasted the sour taste of defeat in her mouth. She ran her hands over her flat chest and shrunk into a depressed state

"Hey, don't mope on the floor like that, you'll get cold," Accelerator said to the ten-year-old girl dressed in a light-blue polka-dotted dress.

Last Order's big round eyes went a tiny bit moist. She stayed quiet as she revelled in her A-Cup Angst.

It was a rather depressing sight to see the usually lively Commander reduced to such a pathetic state.

To understand this situation, let's go back fifteen minutes earlier…

"Ah, this Misaka will go take a nice, warm bath. Anybody wants in?"

Worst seemed to suggest something when she shot a quick look at Accelerator.

"Misaka Misaka wants to take a bath too!" Last Order said, jumping up and down.

With a smug look, Worst looked down at her Onee-chan and crossed her arms over her own ample chest.

"Ah, but if Misaka baths you, you'll throw a tantrum like a naughty kid because of your insecurities!"

Accelerator finished recalling and sighed, shooting a glare at a pleased Misaka Worst. She had no idea how this situation would backfire in a few moments. Accelerator was going to teach her a lesson in humility.

"You're just a kid, you shouldn't think about ridiculous things like that." Accelerator tried his best not to sound caring, but just annoyed at the situation.

"'How can Misaka be carefree when this Sister-chan parades around with such assets!' says Misaka says Misaka as she points at the cause of her distress!"

"Ah, so jealous~ It's too bad you'll never get them so nicely-shaped like mine, since we were grown using different procedures and hormones."

"Actually…" Accelerator interjected, "You're wrong."

"Huh?" Worst was genuinely intrigued.

It was gambit that could backfire, but Accelerator was ready to take it. He recalled a certain drunk that had once clung to him and the inane conversation they had. "…I've gotten 'assaulted' by the mother of the Original once, and she told me while piss-ass drunk that she is 91cm in size."

Last Order brightened up upon hearing that, though Worst upon hearing of a drunk mother clinging to Accelerator was about to joke and tease.

Accelerator gave the punch line before she could proceed.

"Considering Last Order's cloning process is closer to the Original than you, she'll end up with the bigger bust. Yoshikawa told me this, and she was once the head of the Level 6 Experiments. She knows her stuff about cloning and the Sisters in general."

STAB! STAB! STAB! Multiple imaginary blades pierce Misaka Worst's womanly pride at that moment!

"'R-really? Do you swear this is true?' asks Misaka as Misaka gives you her best puppy eyes."

"Yes," Accelerator deadpanned.

"Yay! Misaka Misaka rejoices!"

Misaka Worst now looked positively defeated.

Payback for the onion business, Accelerator told himself.

Then, she slowly raised her head as she spoke in a low, growling voice.

"I see… You're one of these future-planner type of lolicon..."

She then emerged from her frown, her peach-colored eyes lit up with a fiery determination.

"WITH THAT CROOKED PLAN OF YOURS, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO ENJOY THE WONDERS AND PLEASURES OF A LITTLE GIRL'S BODY WHILE ASSURING YOURSELF A GORGEOUS WIFE IN THE FUTURE!"

The strongest of Academy City squinted his eyes.

"What the hell are you talking abo—"

"How could you deceive Misaka Misaka like that… For such p-perverse purposes…"

Last Order now looked deeply embarrassed, a scarlet blush on her entire face. Then she exploded and gave weak, repetitive punches to her guardian.

"'Dirty Dirty!' exclaims Misaka exclaims Misaka as she expresses her disgust over your twisted schemes!"

In a moment, the situation was reversed. Worst had used the blows Accelerator's gave her and used that force against him like in Judo. She had Redirected the vectors of Accelerator's trash-talking without a hitch.

Thus, Misaka Worst retained the crown and title of the Queen of Trolling.

After that, Misaka Worst laughed her way to the bathroom, calling in Last Order who followed closely behind, leaving an exhausted Accelerator on the sofa.

…Brats…

The Level 5 finally yanked off the apron, then cleaned up the dishes while the sisters took a bath. After doing away with the dishes, Accelerator was faced with the remains of the horrible dish he cooked. He could just throw it away into the trash were it belongs…

Or…

He put the rest in a plate, put some foil over it and stashed it in the fridge. Surely when Yomikawa would inevitably return from a late night of tiring Anti-Skill duties, she'll be starving. Seeing that plate in the fridge, she'd jump it, not knowing its correlation with oral cancer.

That's for leaving me to deal with their hunger, old bat!

Finished with the housewife chores, he plopped back onto the couch, waiting.

Fifteen minutes later, a squeaky clean Last Order emerged from the bath, immediately glomping Accelerator.

"'Misaka is back!' announces Misaka announces Misaka in a merry tone!"

"Kuh! Didn't you dry your hair right?-!" he snarled, trying to shake her off. "You're getting water all on me!"

The ten-year-old stared at him with a cat-like smile and blush stickers on her cheeks.

"'But you will wash anyway, right? So it doesn't matter!' argues Misaka as Misaka firmly sits on your lap!"

"Che! I wouldn't count on it, with that other brat still in the bath. She's going to wait it out until I fall asleep, so I'll have to skip and wait for next morning."

"Waaaahhhh!-? It's not healthy to not clean one's body! Even Misaka Misaka had these basic conventions programmed into her!"

"…That's not the point! That damn Worst is probably—" He immediately bit into his hands to muffle the next words. Another slip is another step closer to his psyche being permanently engraved with Misaka Worst's thought patterns. "…well, being a jerk," he finished.

Although the reason he had stated—Misaka Worst deliberately extending her bath time to annoy him, and sometimes, making it so he'd fall asleep before he could wash—were quite valid, there was more to it than that.

Call it the Accelerator's hormones 'Awakening' after that tongue-clashing hot encounter that left him wanting more, but there was an obvious problem for the Third Season clone in the current living arrangements. She slept with Last Order; thus, her room was not hers alone.

Considering that the Network's dark portions contain lust of many forms—surely repressed sexual deviancy from the Sisters regarding a certain idiot, Accelerator guessed—it was no wonder than Misaka Worst was a woman that firmly grasped her womanhood.

…That's metaphorically and literally—her grasp on her sexuality inevitably meant that…certain things happened, which lead to her womanhood being grasped firmly in a proper place for such activities. That place was probably the bath.

Using the half-truth of "staying so long in there to annoy Tou-san" as a cover, she had plenty of time to wring out whatever was held deep inside. When he realized this, Accelerator started to grow an unconscious fear of the bath. Honest to God the last thing he needed to think about while bathing was the bizarre, twisted O face of Misaka Worst.

He shivered while keeping a cool, non–O face on as to not alert the innocent Last Order about what went on in his thoughts.

He couldn't imagine if she learned what had happened a few days ago. That would be—

"Accelerator…" Last Order uttered, fidgeting on his lap. "'…What were you doing with Misaka's Sister-chan?' asks Misaka asks Misaka as she blushes madly, remembering what she saw…'"

And everything was sealed right there.

With that, Accelerator's Happy Family Plans were ruined.

Nietzsche was right… Yes, he knew where it's at… God is Dead... My lifeline is finished…

"'Eh? Wait, why are you trying to asphyxiate yourself with that pillow!' exclaims Misaka as Misaka attempts to stop you!'"

"Let me die in pieces!" He growled, shoving the pillow into his face with much force.

"'Are you trying to avoid Misaka's question?-!' questions Misaka questions Misaka as she grabs the pillow and tosses it away!'"

Without the cover, Accelerator was faced with his little angel's full-pouting face.

"Now, Misaka Misaka wants accountability for the things she saw."

"I don't have to say anything," he returned the pout with a subtle one of his own.

"Could it be that…that…" the ten-year-old began holding back tears, "'Could it be that Misaka has outlived her usefulness…?' sobs Misaka…sobs Misaka…"

"LIKE HELL!" Accelerator immediately snapped. "THE MOST IMPORTANT BRAT IS YOU! ARE YOU AN IDIOT, YOU DAMN KID?-!"

Struck by the outburst, Last Order went quiet. Accelerator did the same, his jaw sagging at the honesty in his voice.

He started to sweat profusely, his skin crawling at what would come next.

Last Order grinned in a way eerily similar to Misaka Worst that it freaked him out.

"'Really~? Misaka is the most important to you?' teases Misaka as Misaka wants to hear you admit it."

"…I don't hate you," he turned his head sideways with a jerk, averting her eyes.

Immediately, she exploded, throwing a tantrum on his lap.

"'Wahhh! Accelerator is a giant baka! Baka, baka, baka! You ruined such a moment with your attitude!' laments Misaka laments Misaka!"

Then, it happened. Clenching his teeth, the albino faced her with solid determination, not a cat stuck in his throat. Accelerator said the thing that would bind him with Last Order forever:

"…How could I hate my daughter?"

"…"

"…"

…I went too far with that, Accelerator thought, seeing the shocked state Last Order was thrown into. The severity of the luminescent blush on her face would be enough to get her to the ER—no questions asked—pronto.

"M-Misaka… Misaka is…" she fumbled with her words, flustered beyond anything before this one moment. She wasn't sure what to say to that declaration.

"You don't have to say anything," he flatly said, struggling to not run to the bathroom and dunk his head in the toilet; the blood building up in his nose could spray out at any moment.

"Then please…" the brown-haired little angel wrapped her arms around the slim albino; daughter leaned into father. "'…take good care of Misaka.' whispers Misaka as Misaka looks up to you."

"Fine…spoiled kid," he pulled slightly on her ahoge to vainly attempt to push her way. That didn't work, needless to say. Her embrace was tight—like a bear's—completely crushing him with childish love. He sighed. "I'll stay with you if that's what you want so badly."

"'Yes… Misaka wants to indulge in that.' says Misaka says Misaka as she nods…"

They stayed in such a position, until Last Order spoke up again.

"'With the guarantee that Misaka's place at your side will never change, Misaka approves of you pursuit of Sister-chan.' says Misaka as Misaka approves. 'However, the Network will hold you accountable for your actions, so don't attempt anything naughty on our Sister-chan before marriage! Misaka's Sisters will beat you up if you abuse of our youngest sister.' declares Misaka as Misaka warns of the consecences the Sisters might bring upon you!'"

"…"

Accelerator was blown away.

What the hell… Those Sisters are fucking insane. His brow furrowed, twitching—a furious death glare materilizing—pure Tsundere RAGING. Last Order's ahoge waved happily, completely oblivious of the irate albino's state.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

That was the sound of a certain someone's sarcastic clapping.

The adoptive father and daughter didn't take notice that a certain someone had spied on the entire scene and moe-moe conversation; they had been too caught up in their own little world to notice.

Misaka Worst whistled, gently skipping on the tip of her feet, straight out of the bath.

Dread—that was the word Accelerator was considering—because there was something in Misaka Worst's hand. A cellphone, the red light on the camera active. It was a sign it was recording video.

"Oh my," Worst posed a hand to her mouth like a proper lady, "you better take responsibility, Tou-san."

"You recorded—!"

"How about Misaka shows this to the landlady and researcher when they get back~?"

"I… I'LL KILL YOU!" Accelerator screeched, leeping with outstreched arms. The choker clicked and the One-Way Road of Academy City reigned once more.

'Nooo!' shouts Misaka as Misaka tries to prevents a terrible misfortune!"

"GYHAHAHAHA! MISAKA IS ENJOYING THIS! MISAKA LOVES THIS LITTLE FAMILY PLANNING OF YOURS, NUMBER ONE!"

It all went downhill from there, degenerating into an anarchic Pillow&Tickle fight.

At the stroke of midnight, Yomikawa Aiho tumbled into her apartment, clad in her Anti-Skill armor. She tore it off piece by piece, almost face-planting on the floor and falling asleep right there and then from how overworked and tired she was.

Although she was glad her consciousness didn't seep away, as she would've missed the scene on the livingroom's couch.

The sight of an odd but adorable family she has the honor to give room and board to, holding each other and snoring without a worry in the world.

Yomikawa smiled as she put a blanket over them and retreated to her room with a microwaved plate of whatever-this-is that was in the fridge.

It tasted pretty good, whatever it was anyway.

The last thought that entered her mind before she fell asleep was how much the so-called strongest esper of Academy City had changed since she first shook his hand back at that hospital two months ago.

See? It's not that hard to show goodwill once in awhile.

Omake:

"Have you ever thought your life was too peaceful? Not enough chaos in your life?" the avert would ask. "Well rejoice; we have the solution for you!" A rhythmic drumroll would follow as the voice actor and graphic presentation would build up to the reveal.

"Introduciiiinnnggg—!"

The voice dragged on as to fit the presentation, who then, finally revealed:

"Packaged Misaka Worsts! She talks, she flirts, she murders…for your love! All a man ever wants! The ultimate cross between Tsundere, Yandere and Yangire types! She transcends set girl-type standards!"

"Here are a testimony of a satisfied customer!"

"Ah~ I've never been more satisfied~!" a blue-haired guy with piercings hugged his Misaka Worst.

"Yes, in a limited time offer—if you order right now—you will get the 'Permanent Black Marker of DOOM!' limited edition accessory!"

"Batteries-not-included. NO REFUNDS!"