---
A full week had passed, and for once, nothing exploded.
No esper fights, no rogue robots, no magical flying nun warriors—just the steady rhythm of daily life.
For Kazuki, it had started to feel almost… comfortable.
He clocked in at Café Pollen on time. He knew how to pour the perfect cold brew. He could navigate tray delivery with his eyes closed. Mao had grudgingly stopped calling him "Eyebrow Guy" and upgraded him to "Boss."
Even the regulars had their nicknames for him now
"Mullet."
"Chad."
"Coffee Prince."
It was all ridiculous.
But it felt human. Alive.
At the end of every shift, he'd walk home, shoes tapping against the pavement, apron folded under one arm, brain still whispering data he didn't ask for.
Back at the apartment, Touma would usually be fighting his rice cooker or losing to the microwave. And somehow, Kazuki had started covering for him without even meaning to.
He'd quietly fix the plumbing. Unclog the fan. Restock the pantry before Touma could notice they were out of food again.
It wasn't a burden.
It was just… part of the deal.
And Touma, in his own chaotic way, appreciated it.
One night, as Kazuki handed him a towel before he could step into a puddle from a pipe Touma didn't even know was leaking, he muttered,
"Seriously, if I didn't have you around, I'd be sleeping in a flooded ruin by now."
Kazuki just shrugged. "Then don't flood."
---
The morning it happened, everything felt normal.
Kazuki woke up early, cooked eggs, and watched the kettle whistle while flipping through a guide on how to legally forge documents in Academy City.
Touma stumbled out of bed, hair shaped like a disaster.
"Ugh. It's too hot. Can I eat my misfortune instead of breakfast?"
"Your misfortune would burn your tongue," Kazuki said, sliding him a plate.
They ate in silence for a while.
Then Touma stretched, yawned, and shuffled toward the sliding balcony door.
"I'll air the place out before the humidity kills us."
He slid it open.
Stopped.
Froze.
Kazuki looked up.
"What?"
"There's a… there's a person on our railing."
Kazuki blinked.
Stood.
Walked over.
Sure enough, there was.
A girl.
Lying sideways across the narrow metal rail of their third-floor balcony.
Dressed in long white robes with golden trim. Short stature. Silver hair that caught the wind like paper streamers. Bare feet.
She looked more like a storybook character than an actual human being.
Kazuki stared.
"How did she not fall off?"
"Maybe she's asleep?"
The girl mumbled something.
Her stomach growled—audibly.
Kazuki took a step back.
"No, not asleep. Starving."
Touma crouched down beside her, poked her shoulder gently.
"Hey. Hey. You okay?"
The girl groaned, cracked open one emerald eye, and blinked up at him.
"Food…"
"Huh?"
"I haven't eaten in days…"
Her voice was thin and pitiful, like it belonged to a ghost who was too hungry to pass on.
Kazuki grabbed a juice box from the fridge and handed it over silently.
She snatched it with both hands and started drinking like she was downing holy water.
Touma scratched his head.
"Okay. So. This is happening."
Kazuki looked at him. "Do you usually keep suspicious looking girls on the balcony?"
"Not intentionally."
The girl wiped her mouth and sat up fully now.
"Thank you. That was divine. Are you the one who lives here?"
"I guess? And you are…?"
"My name is Index. Index Librorum Prohibitorum."
Touma blinked. "That sounds like Latin."
"It is Latin," she said proudly. "It means 'Index of Forbidden Books!'"
Kazuki arched an eyebrow. "Why are you named that?"
"Because I contain 103,000 magical grimoires in my head!"
There was silence.
A long silence.
Then Touma smiled very slowly.
"Okay. Cool. Sure. I get it. This is a prank. I'm still dreaming. Or dead. That's fine too."
Kazuki sat back down on the floor.
"So. We feed the magical data girl. Then… figure out why she's here."
Index's stomach growled again.
"Can I have some toast?"
"Make yourself at home," Touma muttered, already reaching for the bread.
Kazuki just sighed.
"Normal week's over, huh?"
"Yeah,
" Touma said, "normal never sticks around here."
They didn't know it yet, but Index wasn't just a lost girl on a railing.
She was the beginning of everything.
---