Chapter Text
“Such misfortune” muttered Kamijou Touma as he worked on some extra homework Komoe-sensei assigned for missing too many classes. It wasn’t his fault that he ended up missing so many days of class – it’s not like he actually wanted to end up fighting in life-threatening situations on a near daily basis.
As the unfortunate boy worked on his homework – reading yet another paper explaining the quantum physics that underpinned the city’s esper development program, he noticed a notebook sitting on his desk.
Which class was this notebook for again?
Touma thought to himself, but drew a blank.
His curiosity distracted him from his homework, so he opened it up and peeked inside.
“Don’t forget: Shokuhou Misaki,” the boy read aloud. That was all that was written inside the notebook that Touma didn’t remember putting on his desk.
Shokuhou Misaki? Who is that? It sounds like a girl’s name.
It was clearly his own handwriting, but he did not remember writing it. Perhaps he had written it before he lost his memories? It was weird he hadn’t seen the notebook until now though, if that were the case.
The spiky haired boy was confused and curious, but investigating that would have to wait. The poor boy desperately wanted to avoid getting held back, so he refocused on his homework.
---
“Haa…”, the boy let out a sigh of relief upon finally finishing his homework.
He glanced at his desk and saw the mysterious notebook again.
Hm… there’s that notebook I was looking at earlier. What was written inside again?
Touma paused and wracked his brain for answers.
Why don’t I remember? I must be more tired than I thought after all that homework.
With his curiosity piqued, he opened the notebook and re-read its brief contents.
Shokuhou Misaki? Who is that? It sounds like a girl’s name.
The notebook’s bizarre contents did nothing to answer his questions.
“Touma! I’m hungry!”
His thoughts were interrupted by his roommate’s appetite. The boy glanced at his clock and sighed.
“Alright, I’ll get started on dinner.”
Touma hurried to his dorm’s kitchen before the silver haired girl could get angry and try to bite him again.
---
Touma put some cat food into Sphynx’s bowl before grabbing some rice and some other cheap ingredients to make a meal for the two teenagers living in his dorm.
Man, that homework took hours Touma thought to himself with a sigh as he was cooking.
“Touma, when’s dinner going to be ready? It smells good!”
The spiky haired boy glanced over at the drooling nun before sighing and getting back to stirring the rice.
“Be patient, it is almost done.” he said before returning to his thoughts.
Although, didn’t I find a weird notebook on my desk while I was working? But what was weird about it? It was just a normal notebook, right? Why did I think it was weird? What was inside? Why don’t I remember?
He was growing increasingly concerned about his state of mind as he served dinner. He made sure to give Index a larger portion.
“Thank you for the meal!” said the nun as she started scarfing down her food.
Lost in thought, Touma dug into his own food and tried not to let his worries show on his face.
---
After finishing dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Touma found himself staring at the strange notebook on his desk.
I already looked inside this notebook once earlier, right? Or twice? Did I look at all?
...I’m probably just tired from all the homework Komoe-sensei assigned.
He took a deep breath and opened the notebook again.
Shokuhou Misaki? Who is that? It sounds like a girl’s name.
That was the first thought that popped into his head upon reading the contents. But something else caught his eyes this time besides the name. He stared at the words “Don’t forget.”
Don’t forget implies that I knew I might forget this name whenever I wrote it down. Is there an actual reason I don’t remember what I saw when I read this notebook besides simple forgetfulness? What did you know past me?
Touma tapped his fingers on his desk nervously as he pondered.
Maybe I’m just looking into this too much. Did I actually read this notebook earlier or is this the first time I am seeing this page?
He decided to write something down in the margins:
“Times I have read this page:”
Touma underlined this before writing the current date and time underneath.
If he was just being paranoid, then he would remember each time he wrote in the margins. If something was actually wrong with his memory, then he would see the margins fill up with time stamps he didn’t remember writing down.
It was a simple method, but it was enough to give the boy some peace of mind before closing the notebook.
---
The next morning, Touma woke up in the bathtub as usual since his dorm only had one bed. Even if he couldn’t remember exactly why or when Index started staying in his “boys only” dorm in the first place, there was no way he could take the only bed in the dorm room without feeling terrible.
He let out an exhausted yawn before noticing there was a notebook and pen lying on the bathroom floor next to the tub.
Hm? Didn’t I finish my homework yesterday? Or did I fall asleep while working on something?
Feeling groggy, and not at all ready to deal with even more homework, he picked up the notebook and looked inside with an exhausted sigh.
He blinked in confusion.
Shokuhou Misaki? Who is that?
But before he could dwell on the name, his eyes were drawn to the margins and they widened in alarm.
Written down were a list of times when he had supposedly read this page. The earliest time was at 6:37pm the previous night and the latest was at 10:43pm. He had apparently re-read this page over a dozen times the previous evening. Some of the times were only a few minutes apart. And yet, he had no memory of doing this.
He looked at the bathroom clock before quickly adding this morning’s time to the margins with a growing sense of panic.
What the hell is going on?!
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he organized his thoughts.
I should assume that I will forget about anything I’m thinking about right now. So I need to write down anything that my future self should know.
Underneath the unknown girl’s name, he drew a table with two columns.
He labeled the left column “Why am I forgetting what is written on this page?”.
On the right column, he wrote “Who is Shokuhou Misaki? Why did I write down her name?”
He turned his attention to the left column first and started thinking. This wasn’t the first time Touma had lost memories. On July 28th, Touma woke up in the hospital without recollection of who he was or how he got there. The doctor had told him he had a brain injury that completely destroyed his episodic memories. He had still the possessed knowledge and skills he had learned before, but had knew nothing about his own life.
Could this be related? All the times written in the margin are from yesterday, which obviously occurred after that time, and the doctor didn’t say I would have any trouble with new memories. ...At least I don’t remember the doctor saying anything like that. Can I really trust my memory in this situation?
Touma clicked his pen and started writing under the left column, while trying to think about this scientifically – given the city he lived in.
“Hypothesis 1: The brain injury I received on July 28 is effecting my ability to form new memories about specific subjects. Maybe talk to the doc later?”
After writing that down, he looked at the name on top of the page.
“Hypothesis 2: This Shokuhou person is related to or even responsible for my current condition.”
Now that he was thinking about the name, he moved on to the right column.
Why did I write down this girl’s name? What was my past self desperately trying to remember? Couldn’t you have wrote down some more details you bastard?! Is she someone who needs help? Is she another dangerous enemy I need to punch in the face while she tries to kill me? Neither? Both?
“Hypothesis 1: This girl is someone I knew in the past. Perhaps she was someone important to me that I didn’t want to forget? In that case, did I know something would happen to my memories?”
“Hypothesis 2: This girl is the culprit behind my repeated memory loss. Perhaps the past Kamijou Touma wrote down her name as a warning?”
Touma let out a frustrated sigh. He only had one girl’s name and his mysterious recurring and oddly specific amnesia to go off of.
It wasn’t enough to come to any meaningful conclusion.
Who are you?
A loud knock on the bathroom door jarred him from from his speculation.
“Touma, Touma! Wake up, I want breakfast!” Touma glared at the door.
“I’m a little busy right now!”
“Grrr… Touma! I’m hungry!”
Touma was about to yell back before he froze.
Wait, Index has an eidetic memory. If I can’t trust my own memories, I can just ask her!
“Hey Index, do you know anyone named Shokuhou Misaki?”
“Huh?! Hey Touma, are you about to leave me behind to run off and end up in the hospital saving some random girl again?!”
So Index doesn’t know her either.
“You say that like it’s some bad habit of mine.”
“Touma! Do you even hear yourself right now?! And come make breakfast already!”
“Alright, alright! I’m coming!”
---
The unfortunate boy had managed to avoid getting bitten after that argument by rushing to the kitchen and getting started on breakfast prep.
He cracked some eggs and put them in the frying pan before pausing.
Index might still be mad about earlier. Maybe she’ll calm down if I surprise her with a new recipe?
He quickly looked around the kitchen before his eyes settled on a specific bottle in the pantry as an idea came.
It’s a bit unconventional to mix with eggs, but it could actually be really good now that I think about it!
As it turns out, his hunch was right. The poor student’s experience with making the most of whatever cheap ingredients he could get on sale had paid off once again.
“Mhm! Touma! These eggs are way better than normal!”
“Yeah. Sweet and savory flavors go together well in a bunch of dishes, so I tried mixing some honey with the eggs.”
“Touma! I want two dozen more scrambled honey eggs!”
Touma rolled his eyes at the glutinous nun’s antics.
“Only if you cover the grocery bill.”
“Touma!”
“If I give you that many eggs now, we won’t be able to afford breakfast for the rest of the week.”
Index glared at him with tears in her eyes for such a heartless comment before she asked about something that had been bothering her.
“Who is the girl you were asking me about earlier?”
The spiky haired boy looked at the nun in confusion.
“What girl?”
“Shokuhou Misaki!”
Now Touma was even more confused.
“Who? Is that a new friend of yours?”
“Grr! Touma! Are you making fun of me again?!”
“No?”
Index let out an exasperated sigh.
“Well, I’ll forgive you this once since breakfast was so tasty…”
“Okay?”
Touma still wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but was relieved to have gotten out of it without getting bitten somehow. Even if getting lucky somehow felt scarier than his usual misfortune. He returned to his breakfast while trying not to think about whatever debt he was accruing with the universe.
Honey and eggs are a really surprising combination. I wonder why I thought to try honey today.
Touma usually didn’t cook with honey. Its flavor gave him bittersweet emotions, like it was something precious that would disappear the moment he looked away. Now that he thought about it, that was a strange emotion to associate with honey.
At the same time, the amnesiac boy had gotten used to feeling strange emotions. Even without his memories, he seemed to have retained some emotional associations with people, places, and things that the original Kamijou Touma had memories of. Those emotions were one of the only connections the current Touma had to his past self. Those emotions are what caused him to hide his total amnesia from Index in the first place and what warned him to block before Misaka went all biribiri and shot lightning at him the first time the current Touma had met her.
While those emotions had been understandable once he got a feel for the kind of relationships he originally had with Index and Misaka, he doubted he would ever understand why he associated those strange emotions with honey. Despite those doubts, he felt as if he would be abandoning something or someone important if he gave up on understanding these weird feelings.
After Touma and Index had finished their breakfast and cleaned up, Touma noticed the notebook he set on the counter.
Ah, that’s the notebook I was writing in before Index bugged me about breakfast.
…
Wait.
...What was I writing about again?