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“I’ve always wondered about something,” Max admits. That’s usually a sign that he wants to conduct some experiment or another — Kagami’s learned how to interpret the signals. It’s easier to interpret the signals from people she knows than people she doesn’t, and she knows her boyfriend some of the best of all. “You usually use your power to transform yourself into your element of choice, correct?”
“Usually,” Kagami responds, rotating the bead on her choker. “But…I am capable of directing it outside of myself.”
“Good,” he says. “I’ve…been thinking about this experiment for some time. I’m aware that it would be…thoroughly unethical to put you in a bottle, though.” He holds up an empty glass bottle. “Have you heard the saying ‘lightning in a bottle’?”
Kagami’s heard of it, but doesn’t know what it means, so she shakes her head.
“Benjamin Franklin — an American political figure — conducted an experiment where he flew a kite with a small piece of metal attached to it. The story is such that he wanted to capture lightning in a bottle. It’s come to mean an unlikely and temporary success.”
“And you were asking about my powers because…”
“Because with your ability to harness lightning,” Max says, tapping on the glass, “I can see if we really can keep lightning in a bottle. Glass is an insulant, and a better one than plastic. Though I will say that I’ve brought more, just in case things go wrong. I’m not interested in dying — though, typically a lightning bolt won’t kill anyone.”
“Don’t take any chances,” Kagami says. “I rather prefer you alive.”
Max ducks his head and blushes. “Don’t be concerned. I’ve taken the proper precautions. I have more insulant, even, if you’re so concerned for my well-being.”
It’s Kagami’s turn to get flustered. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Has no one really shown such concern? I find that hard to believe.”
“My mother, when I was younger. But most trust that I know how to handle myself with these experiments,” Max replies. “I think it’s sweet.”
Kagami’s not very good at the romance thing, even after a few months of this relationship. Neither of them really expect that of each other, but there are moments like this — brief accidental moments of romance.
He procures something from his bag and wraps it around the glass bottle.
“I even 3D-printed a new cap, so I wouldn’t touch any metal against the electricity,” Max says, holding up the plastic cap.
“How long have you been planning this?” Kagami asks with a slight smile on his face.
“Since I got this bottle,” Max says, shaking the bottle in question. “So really, only for a couple days.”
“Alright. Longg, bring the storm,” Kagami says. In a flash, she’s transformed into Ryuuko. “How do you want me to do this?”
“I’m going to hold the opening of the bottle to face you,” Max says. “You’ll use your sword to put a small lightning bolt in there. Then I’ll close the bottle, and observe what happens.”
Kagami takes the sword out of its sheath. “Lightning Dragon!” The electricity runs down her sword into the bottle. Max, with worker's gloves, caps the bottle with his specially-made cap.
“I’m not sure what I expected,” Max says, studying the contents of the bottle. The lightning isn’t in there — but what had Kagami truly expected from this experiment? “Lightning is an incorporeal bunch of photons.” He removes the bottle from the insulation. “Huh. That’s…interesting. The glass melted due to the high heat.” True to his words, the bottle has parts broken off, and when she looks inside the insulation glass is melted to the sides.
“Well, didn’t you tell me once that no science experiment is pointless even if it means proving something that was already proven?” Kagami asks. “You verified the fact that lightning isn't corporeal through this experiment. That’s all. And I do not think that was a waste of my time or my power, even if others wouldn't think so.”
“You like me,” Max says. “That's...that's why you're saying this. Reassurance.”
“Yes, I am saying it to reassure you,” Kagami says, “but also because I believe you. The suits are impenetrable, let me take a shot at extracting the glass.”
“Sure,” Max says. “Here you go.” The glass has refused to the sides of the insulation — the melting and re-solidifying probably only took a couple instances. She examines it carefully, sitting down as she pries her fingers between the glass and the insulation. Some of the insulation comes with it, but the glass comes off nonetheless.
“I don't think you will be able to reuse the bottle,” Kagami says, slightly joking. “It's kind of...all melted now.”
Max examines a piece of glass, and extracts some of the insulation fibers from it. He then breaks it in half. “Here. Keep it.”
“Huh?” Kagami says.
“I've heard it's…customary, sometimes, for couples to keep two halves of something,” Max explains. “They have necklaces where a heart is separated into two halves, and each person wears one. They've made necklaces that split it into more parts, but those are more for friend groups.”
“Interesting,” Kagami says. “You mean to say that you're planning on using this piece of glass as one of these mementos?”
“Yes,” Max says. “It has more personal meaning to the both of us than any necklace.”
Kagami brings the piece of glass up to her heart. “Thank you. I will be certain to treasure this.”
Max smiles. “At the very least, it can remind you of this time. Couldn’t catch that lightning, but we still got something out of it.”
“I believe it is what you’d call a longshot regardless,” Kagami says. “I don’t think it was ever going to happen.”
Max shakes his head. “My hypothesis was always that it wouldn't really work. I forgot about the high heat and temperatures that would result from the experiment…”
“I wonder if I could light something on fire with the lightning,” Kagami says.
“Experiment for another time, then,” Max responds.