Crossover Fan Fiction / Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction / Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction ❯ Reason And Accountability ❯ A Certain Neighbor ( Chapter 8 )

After a good week of waking up in another body, I am starting to get used to the Unfamiliar Ceiling. I sat up and looked around. Across the room was a younger girl. It was not Komachi. Japanese, but nobody I recognized. I headed for the bathroom and closed the door before fumbling for the light switch. The face in the mirror had spiky blonde hair and a slightly evil grin, so that much wasn’t very jarring. The wallet sat under the mirror for some reason, on a dry clean shelf. I flipped it open, seeing the same face as the mirror showed me, minus the grin. Tsuchimikado Motoharu. The address gave an apartment on a street, but the Academy City part was jarring. I knew the show, one of the better animated ones. There was also a picture of the girl sleeping in the main room in a maid outfit. Odd. The bathroom was spotless clean, no water spots, no fallen hairs. I fingered my chin and felt stubble. Best to shave. Some minutes later I emerged to the girl stretching.

“Morning, nii-nii. Sleep well?” she asked me.

“Yes, thank you. You?” I answered. She yawned a bit and nodded.

I opened the fridge and looked at what we had to work with for breakfast, presuming the girl to be a sibling. There was a thumb and shriek and a yell on the other side of the wall.

“Gah. Those two again,” muttered the sister. There was a louder thump and the noise dropped once more. I started pulling stuff from the fridge to prepare breakfast. The girl went to the bathroom with a small pile of clothes and I took the opportunity to turn on the TV, noted it was a weekday and found a uniform, neatly washed and ironed and some fresh boxers. No man wears boxer briefs. Those are a sign of Beta male, and that’s no man. It is boxers or briefs, no compromise is possible. I pulled on the clothes, washed my hands and my presumed-sister emerged in a main uniform and put on a sleeved apron, which she tied on expertly. I pointed to the kettle where hot water steamed for her tea. I had a cup of pour over coffee. She peered at this, and then back at me.

“What are you doing, nii-nii?” she asked.

“Making breakfast,” I answered. I sipped my coffee, enjoying the rush of wakefulness and got the miso simmering, dropping in fresh green onion and diced soft tofu. I would need to talk to her about this, and leave a note for the owner. Tofu is poison to a growing child and would retard physical maturation. It is not manly. Miso and soy sauce are safe, but tofu and edamame were dangerous. I served the miso and plated the eggs I’d rolled into omelets for us. She peered at the food and tasted it.

“Why is this good? My brother is helpless in the kitchen. Who are you?” she asked.

“Uh, hmm. You don’t like the food?” I asked, trying to distract.

“It tastes just fine. My brother burns water, only drinks barley tea or green tea, never coffee, and can’t cook eggs to save his life.”

“Huh. Well, you got me. I’m not him exactly, but he’ll be back tomorrow. I’m just borrowing his body for the day. What is your name?”

“Maika. I’m your step sister.”

“Do you have any aches or pains or lingering injuries? I am a healer,” I admitted.

“I sprained my ankle two days ago. It still twinges a bit until I get warmed up,” she said. I cast Heal Other on her and she stared at the faint white light that glowed from her ankle.

“Other ankle,” she corrected, pointing. I cast at the other one. A few seconds later she relaxed a bit.

“Huh. I wonder if that works on menstrual cramps?” she asked.

“Probably. Never tried it. I’ve regrown some serious injuries though. Missing organs, limbs. Major and minor damage.”

“You know, our neighbor gets hurt pretty often. He’d probably like that.”

“Isn’t he able to cancel out spells and stuff?” I asked her.

“How do you know that?” she asked, suspicious.

“This place is a popular TV show where I’m from.”

“A TV show? Really? Am I the star?” she asked, twirling on her newly healed feet.

“Uh… no. A recurring comedy character. Same with Motoharu, though he’s also a double agent spy. I can fix all that hybrid damage, now that I think about it.” I cast Heal on myself and felt all kinds of jagged spell damage and cuts through organs and scarring in the liver and various bones clear up. Also repaired my burst spleen. One of the most fragile and useless organs at the hymen, let me tell you. Pity it is important to the immune system. It needs a better structure that won’t burst. I drank a glass of milk, needing the calcium, and finished my breakfast quickly, downing the excellent coffee.

“Next time you visit let me cook. I’m very good at it.”

“Okay, but let me watch. I have a little sister I cook for when I’m home in Chiba.”

“You’re Japanese? I thought you were a magical being?” she asked.

“Eh, its complicated, and I probably WILL visit again. I tend to return to places I’ve been, bodies I’ve occupied before.” There was a loud thump next door and a voice calling out.

“You ready to go? I’d like to try the Heal spell on Tamijou.” She nodded and we pulled on shoes, stepping out. Kamijou was just heading into the elevator.

“Hold the door!” I called out. My sister zoomed past me, spinning on top of a cleaning robot. Seeing them in person, and smelling their hot exhaust and the dust cloud they produced was odd. Not a normal experience. This setting was far more advanced than Evangelion, though there were no kaiju here. Well, not often. The Level Upper monster was a kaiju.

“Thanks,” I said, stepping into the elevator. The door shut and the three of us headed for the ground floor, Maika zooming ahead for her training school. I think she also worked at the dorms where Biribiri lived with Teleporter.

“Hey, does healing magic work on you?” I asked my body’s best friend. His dark hair was even more spiky in person. There were bite marks showing.

“If you can heal these before class starts, please try.” So I cast Heal Other and rapidly the bites faded. I couldn’t do anything near the arm, but his brain injuries and severed bones from his heart getting ripped out, that I could fix. Heavens Canceller was a very gifted surgeon, but he couldn’t fix the things I can fix with this one spell from Skyrim every player bought for a few hundred gold pieces. Totally worth it. The brain damage was healing.

“I think that should help. I may want to try this again a few more times today. I need a rest. You might start to remember things from your old life, before that feather fall injury.” He looked at me sharply.

“How do you know about that?” he asked.

“Spy, remember. It’s in your file,” I lied. It was probably true.

“Why aren’t you wearing your sunglasses? That squint looks painful,” he remarked. Ah, forgot about those.

“Eh, forgot them at home. Was talking about cooking with Maika,” I answered.

“Huh. Well, you look like a Yankee,” he said.

“I do eh? I will probably hear that a lot today. Should I practice? Ora ora!” I yelled. People on the street turned to look at me. I laughed loudly. They skittered away. We soon arrived at the tram stop and then a short trip brought us to the stop for our school, the unnamed High School for low level ESPers.

I followed Kamijou to our classroom after exchanging shoes, the body tipping me off which locker was mine. Not remembering your shoe locker would be a huge tip-off. Up two flights of stairs to a third floor classroom with a nice view of the Academy City skyscrapers and windmills, miles away downtown. I looked. Yep, the windmills were turning backwards. So weird. I wonder if the Sisters were responsible for that quirk. I thought it was weird how none of the locals could see it.

I spent some time thinking about what I could do with a working heal spell in a city run by mad scientists with too many video cameras and a super computer watching everything. Hmm. The Level Upper incident was caused by children in a coma driving their school teacher insane with grief.

“Kami, you ever heard of Level Upper?” I asked him. He shook his head sharply. “How about Graviton Bombs?” I whispered. He nodded. “Seventh Mist?” I asked. He nodded again. “The Stripping Woman?” I asked. He glared at me, the nodded once. “How do you know about her?” he whispered too loudly.

“Kamijou, thank you for volunteering to answer this question,” yelled the tiny pink teacher. And she’s over 30 but looked like an elementary schooler. It seemed that my earlier healing worked because he answered it fine instead of failing in shame to his usual Fukoudah! Interesting.

When lunch arrived, I snuck off campus using a body-remembered route in the camera blind spots and hopped an electric motor scooter to an industrial park, where entered a disused utility door near a bench and a lot of cigarette butts. Disabled alarm and a smoking habit makes for routinely violated security. I snuck in, grabbed a lab coat and a clipboard and snagged an ID, backwards of course, and a stethoscope, heading into the coma ward. I found a bunch of kids around 12 years old lying with tubes in their mouths and all the usual stuff. I started at the back of the ward, casting Heal Other. It didn’t take long to reverse the damage that had been healing for years, slowly. The first had displayed brain waves change. I moved the next. I didn’t actually take very long to wake up twenty four kids. I tapped the nurse alarm button on the way out the door and headed for the smoker door. Stepping out, I noted a tired 30+ post-wall woman with bags under her eyes, smoking sadly. I heard the PA call a name and she looked around, turning to head back. I got her with Heal Other for a mere second before she was behind the iron door and gone. Would need to heal her again. I expect I’ll see that woman again. She turned up a lot. I just made her day and prevented a nuclear meltdown. Returning to my scooter in the next car parking lot I found the device had helpfully recharged via one of the robots and unplugged it, headed back to school. I was late to PE, but only the sensei cared. I had to stop and stare. Long long hair, to her calves. Beautiful classic face. Steely determined eyes. I have to admire that kind of beauty when I see it. A low whistle was a step too far. She grabbed my wrist and tried a judo throw. I rolled with it and came up, reversing the throw. She stared up at me, shocked.

“Sorry. Reflex,” I apologized. I offered her my hand and pulled her to her feet. This was true. It was the body’s reflexes, not my own. Actual self-defense is not one of my 108 skills. This was all Motoharu’s training as a spy. “You do look amazing though,” I admitted quietly. She blinked, then glared.

“Laps. Start running, you… Tsuchimikado.” I think she meant it as a curse, but whatever. Is this Yamato Nadesico also single? Almost like a trend in Anime or something. As long as she didn’t get drunk and pull trains with her backing band like Aya Hirano, I could dig it. Maybe when this body graduated high school, he could date her.

I ran laps. Endurance and drifting mind, two of my skills. Motoharu could run, too. In better shape than I was back home in Chiba. It is quite odd operating another body. The balance is often off because you’re taller or shorter or have more muscle mass, or less, than you did in the body you’re used to, but whatever makes these temporary transfers possible also gives them enough reflex from the body to work properly. I tried Heal on the back parts of the lap, a few seconds at a time. It banished fatigue poisons and restored my stamina so I was able to just keep running at a good pace.

“On your left,” I said, going past Tamijou. I passed him again running double his speed once more. “On your left,” I announced again. The lap went by quickly and once more “On your left”.  At no point did he get the joke. Maybe the atrocity of the Marvel Movies never happened here. Even in 2011, they were starting to suck, and I couldn’t help but worry I’d already seen the best they would produce in Iron Man 1 and 2. I dropped that line of thinking as the sensei called the end of PE and we headed for the locker rooms before the bell rang. I risked a fast shower to wash off the sweat and a fresh towel, at least, from my locker. The heal spell had improved my muscle tone considerably. I was ripped, almost. I pulled on my school uniform and avoided flexing, much as I wanted to, headed for class, and more dull lectures on how to think like a psycho and warp reality to my preference. Kamijou and I took the train to Garden of Maidens to see my sister and I zapped him with more Heal Other. A news kiosk mentioned some children had awakened after long illness and the sagging Stripped Lady was interviewed, looking happy but bewildered. Kami looked at me.

“Where did you go for lunch?” he asked. I whistled, looking up at the blimps.

“Ever notice how the windmills all turn the wrong direction?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“Huh? What do you mean?” he asked.

“That kind of windmill can only turn one way, and it is turning the WRONG way for the airfoil. See the leading edge? Its going backwards. That’s impossible. It is aerodynamically impossible and would destroy the windmill if that happened, yet we can see it happening right now. Going backwards. Do you think the Sisters are doing that?” I asked him. He looked, really looked. I zapped his brain a bit more and his face lit up, understanding what he was seeing for the first time ever.

“Huh. That IS weird,” he admitted.

“There are around 10,000 of them in the city, right?” I verified.

“No, only a few dozen I think. They send them out into the world to get fostered and live normal lives, once their health can be stabilized, I think. 10032 told me about it.”

I looked around and a sister with goggles peered around a tree at me.

“Misaka-10032 notes that she heard her name called, Misaka-10032 says.” The somewhat autistic girl lifted her goggles and approached from the treed area, stepping past blooming flowers and some ground cover to Kamijou’s side. I inspected the girl, casting Heal Other on her to determine common injuries. She turned to examine me, freezing in place. Kami touched her with his right hand, breaking the spell.

“Oops. Sorry, Motoharu. You doing that spell again?” he asked me.

“Yeah, wanted to see what Clones suffer from. Might have a treatment for your girlfriend, you know?” I teased. Touma froze, looking at me, then down at the girl.

“What, you didn’t know?” I asked him. “It’s in your file. You saved 10,000 girls from being murdered by your childhood friend, Accelerator. They idolize you. Go ahead Misaka. Give him a hug,” I urged her. She stepped forward, removed her goggles from her forehead and hugged the taller boy. He gently put his arms around her and hugged back. It was a nice moment. She was probably transmitting this feeling to all the sisters. I noted a familiar uniform some distance away, frozen in thought. Another Misaka. I also spotted the real one approaching with Teleporter. Well, we were in the Garden of Maidens district. She didn’t spot us, turning towards a vending machine in a quiet area of the park. I let them go, for now.

“So Misaka-10032, can I check your health and heal any problems I find?” I asked her.

“Misaka-10032 polls the network and receives a question. “Are you magic side?” she asks,” asked Misaka-10032.

“Half and half. Today I’m all magic, and I’ve got a working heal spell. I’ve repaired a lot of Touma’s brain damage. He should be remembering more soon.”

“The Misaka Network detects footage of suspicious individual, identity Motoharu Tsuchimikado, with glowing hand in long term coma ward 2041-A, over 24 patients, who have subsequently recovered after 6 years of believed permanent damage. This fact is newsworthy, though identity is being repressed by authorities. Misaka-10032 is willing to volunteer medical treatment. Please describe injuries found before healing them, Misaka-10032 requests carefully.”

So I did and described various osteoporosis, thyroid imbalance, undeveloped womb and barely functioning ovaries, pituitary problems in the hypothalamus gland, several missing hormones based on damage, low vitamin D levels, low vitamin C levels, low immune system response, basically a lot of hormone problems which would be sorted out by a serious heal, probably over several days, and a dramatically improved diet. “You need milk, vegetables, orange juice once a day, more time in sunlight around noon every day during the summer months, and supplements in the off-season, and I’m probably not going to be here often enough to heal all your wombs, but I can start on yours. Probably 10 minutes?” I suggested.

“The network approves this course of treatment, as it is similar to what doctors are prescribing to the Misaka Sisters who have successfully left Academy City for settlement in the world. Proceed, says Misaka-10032.” So I cast the spell and fixed her womb and ovaries and her hypothalamus and rebalanced her thyroid gland so the proper amounts of wakefulness hormones were present, called T3 and T4. After 5 minutes I took her hand and Touma followed us to some vending machines where I found real Misaka and an open-mouthed Kuroko Shirai. I bought the girl a strawberry milk and handed it to her. She stared at it blankly. I took it back, inserted the straw and gave it to her again.

“Uh… what are you doing with my sister?” asked Misaka-prime. I saw the sparks.

“Easy there, Biribiri. She’s with me,” Touma said. Misaka spotted the familiar face of her arch nemesis and future spouse. I turned to watch.

“There’s never popcorn around when you want some,” I said out loud. The flower haired Headband agreed.

“Oneesama! You have a sister?” demanded Shirai. She teleported close to the girl and examined her. The sister in question hugged Touma again, then realized she was still holding her drink so went back to drinking it again.

“She’s her younger twin,” I suggested as a cover story. Misaka-Prime sighed, since her lie was probably clumsy and stupid. “Special education plan, so you may see her doing physical therapy walking around town. Mild autism, you see.”

Shirai backed off at this news. She looked at Misaka-Prime and then at the Sister-clone. “Identical twins. You could have told me, Oneesama,” chided the little teleporter. I looked to Misaka-Prime for a hint in how she wanted to handle this. She was blank. I tried so this didn’t go any further.

“Maybe she’s a little ashamed that her sister needs so much help she has to live in a group home? It’s a family circumstance that isn’t talked about is it? Are you an only child Miss?” I asked Kuroko. She introduced herself then.

“No, I have several older brothers and a sister. I miss them terribly. My family runs a chain of Lawsons in Osaka.”

“Is this part of the reason you have such strong feelings for Mikoto-san?” I asked her. She nodded.

“Oneesama is a real hero,” she said. Misaka was chastising Touma and her sister, who apparently had finished the milk box and looked confused about what to do with it.

“As a teleporter, you have the ability permanently stop villains from hurting anyone, ever again. Is that true?” I asked her. She nodded.

“But you never hurt anyone seriously right?” I confirmed. She nodded fiercely.

“So doesn’t that make you a hero too?” I asked her. She looked sharply at me then.

“I did not think anyone noticed that,” she said very quietly.

“Probably all the really important people know. Your restraint is every bit as great as Mikoto’s. Someday you’ll reach level five and gain greater ability. I hope you can maintain your oath of justice. Do you suffer any injuries at present?” I asked her, changing the subject.

“I… what? Why do you ask?” she said confused.

“I’m a healer. Bruises, broken bones, organ damage? Anything at all? I can fix it in minutes.” She nodded, pointing to her left shoulder. While I’d prevented the worst of the Level Upper incident, there’d been victims already and the Judgement teams had made arrests and gotten hurt doing it.

“You may notice a light white glow.” I cast Heal Other on her and found nerve damage from the shocks, broken bone scars, teleport scars, but her organs were mostly okay. The lightning damage was the biggest problem. The bruises were healed in seconds and she sighed in relief. What I found next was troubling. Her ovaries were scarred by lightning burns. I healed the damage and told the girl.

“Miss Mikoto, please refrain from using your taser shocks on your roommate, no matter how handsy she gets. You caused her a lot more damage than you realized.” I finished repairing the damage to her ovaries, which should boost estrogen production and cause her breasts to grow normally. Left as it was, she would have been crippled for life.

“You can now expect normal physical development and have children if you decide to later in life,” I muttered to the Teleporter, who looked relieved at the news.

“Huh? What’s that?” Misaka demanded, already angry.

“Oneesama, this isn’t the place or time. Later, maybe,” interrupted Kuroko. Touma meaningfully put his right hand on her shoulder, and the sound of breaking glass sounded, ending her power buildup. Misaka glared at him, then me, then humphed and turned away, folding her arms.

I stepped away from the drama and went to see my sister at the Tokiwadai dorms, noting one of the twin Iron Ladies who runs them. I don’t know which one. They trade shifts as needed, and they are completely identical level 0s. I have to say, very pretty woman. If things don’t work out with his PE teacher in a few years, the dorm lady might still be available.

Maika turned up and she let me know she was coming back to our place just to make sure I was telling the truth about leaving during sleep. So we headed for the trams and took one then another back to our place next door to Touma’s apartment. He was home and Index, the little nun, was growling loudly for food. We looked at each other in our spotless apartment and rolled our eyes at the crashing sound.

“Such misfortune!” he shouted.

I slept well.