-||A Certain Reality Bringer||-

A Certain Wake-Up Call!

If you're an Aquarius, born between January 20 and February 18, you will have extremely good fortune in love, money, and business! No matter how improbable the circumstances, only good things are headed your way. Go buy a lottery ticket! But no matter how popular you may be, don't try dating three or four girls at the same time. ♪"

"I wish I would get at least one..."

"Not with that blobfish face of yours."

A pillow.

That is what was thrown at Kamijou Touma.

It was his good friend Kamitatsu Kaito who launched the fluffy projectile.

If the situation wasn't sizzling, Kaito might have jumped on Kamijou, but alas, the heat was frying their nerves.

It was July 20, the first day of summer vacation.

They had both mentally prepared for an incoming wave of misfortune, but neither of them had anticipated it to be of this magnitude.

Apparently, a lightning strike had jolted the city, rendering 80% of electrical appliances useless. It was quite a shocking setback, but not enough to sink the SSSS Kamitatsu, as Kaito would jokingly refer to their team.


What truly stung Kaito and Kamijou was the fact that both of them had been roped into taking supplementary lessons.

The most baffling part to Kaito, however, was that he had aced every single class, except for one...

Science.

Yes, Kamitatsu Kaito, the Esper extraordinaire, was absolutely terrible at science.

What aggravated him even more was that he couldn't even attend his beloved boxing classes due to this, which was akin to a sucker punch to his gut.

His friend Kamijou, on the other hand, had less than stellar grades, the kind that would make any strict mother consider grounding him for a year or more.

His homeroom teacher had called him in, and her words were something along the lines of:

"Good morning, Kamijou-chan~. You're an absolute genius in idiocy, so extra lessons are the only logical option~"

Trying his best to ignore Kaito's continuous teasing, Kamijou reached out for a cup of instant Yakisoba noodles that served as emergency rations, only to end up spilling it into the sink, much to his own frustration.

Kaito's comment didn't take long to follow:

"BAHAHAHA! KAMIJOU-KUN, I THINK YOUR BRAIN'S BEEN IMPALED BY YOUR HAIR!"

Kamijou let out an exasperated groan. Sometimes, he truly wished that Kaito's existence was some sort of elaborate prank.

As the echoes of Kaito's laughter filled the dorm room, Kaito himself experienced his own dose of misfortune as he stumbled right onto his ATM card.

Laughter quickly turned to groans as he shifted his weight off the accidental culprit.

The horoscope was still on, but only was turned off by Kaito as he always resisted the urge to bash the tv screen. He hated the overly cheerful voice that would always list happy things while he was in his own personal hell of misfortune.

See, the thing about Kaito and Kamijou was the fact the universe had hated their guts.

For Kamijou, he'd just have no luck at all.

For Kaito, he'd have to go through the pain of watching people have good luck, while he had literally suffered.

He remembered when his older sister had won an extremely expensive game console for him, only for it to break as soon as he pressed the X button on the controller.

When together, however, the two's fates would mix, resulting in the disastrous concoction known as pain.
It was like a running gag of a tv show.

The two protagonists would have terrible luck and would try to navigate through basic daily things while avoiding dying a horrible, horrible death.
Kaito already came up with a name:
"Teenage Turmoil: Chronicles Of Catastrophe."

Kaito's presence in Kamijou's room was far from any boys' love scenario. It had a much less dramatic, albeit peculiar, reason – his room had practically melted.

To be more precise, the scorching heat had caused his bed frame and futon to warp and melt while he was asleep. The result: an unusable bed and a displaced Kaito.


Thus, he found himself seeking refuge in Kamijou's room, fervently hoping that no one had witnessed him entering another boy's room, or he would
find himself tangled in a web of awkward explanations.


While Kaito was busy contemplating the strange turns his life had taken, Kamijou flung a futon in his direction.

"If you're going to mooch off me, you might as well be productive."

Kamijou had already swapped into his school uniform, his casual demeanor belying any enthusiasm for the upcoming school day.

"Is Kamijou Touma actually looking forward to school?"

Kaito's tone was laced with surprise and a hint of disbelief.

"No, I'm just aiming to get it over with. It's just a week, after all."

"Seriously?"

Kaito raised an eyebrow at Kamijou's response, his expression a mix of skepticism and amusement.

"Yes, now do me a favor and air out my futon, peasant."

Kamijou's reply was quick.

"With or without the noodle seasoning, your majesty?"

A swift pillow to the stomach to the stomach.

That was the response Kaito received.

Kaito let out a groan as he set about fixing the futon that had been lended to him.

Kamijou, on the other hand, was tidying up his own bed.

Kaito was just about to make his way to his own room to change when Kamijou's voice stopped him, instructing him to air out his futon.

Grumbling inwardly, Kaito begrudgingly carried out the task. Being a guest in Kamijou's room, he felt obligated to help, even if he didn't particularly
enjoy the extra work.

One thing was for certain, though - he was going to be...

Hold on.

There was already a futon laid out on the balcony.

Had Kamijou put it there to dry? Kaito didn't feel like bothering to ask, already preoccupied with preparing for the impending summer lessons. He
definitely didn't want to be scolded again for being late. The imagined lecture played in his head:

"Kamita-chan! Late every single day since the start of school! Maybe a suspension will teach you!"

The thought of it sent a shiver down Kaito's spine, prompting him to drop the futon he was holding and quickly grab the one hanging outside.
As he brought it inside, he noticed something was off - it felt unusually heavy. And there was something soft on it too.

Thinking it might be a rat or some kind of critter, he fought hard against letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek.
In his haste, the futon slipped from his grip and landed on the floor.

Kamijou looked over at it and, with a tone of utmost nonchalance, said, "Kamitatsu-kun. I'm not going to even ask how you didn't notice that you were carrying a Nun.

Kaito glanced at Kamijou, whose expression resembled that of a mother who had miraculously found her child's lost toy in mere seconds.

Out of nowhere, the sister stirred, rousing herself from slumber.

She appeared to be around fourteen or fifteen, a year or so younger than Kamijou. But there was an otherworldly quality about her, marked by her pure white, almost porcelain skin and her hair that was more silver than any ordinary hue. The cascading locks, notably lengthy, veiled her face as she hung upside-down, lending her an air of mystery.

Was "habit" the right word for her attire?

It closely resembled what one would expect a nun to wear in a church. Her clothing bore a resemblance to a long dress, draping elegantly down to her ankles. Over her head was a one-piece hood, distinct from a mere hat. In contrast to the typical jet-black nun's habits, hers was an immaculate white, adorned with intricate golden thread embroideries in key locations.

The transformation of the outfit's impression through the subtle change in color astonished Kamijou. What he saw reminded him of an opulent teacup, belonging to those flaunting their nouveau riche status.

Her head gradually lifted, freeing her face from its veil.

In most situations, when a young woman wakes up alone in a dorm room with two unfamiliar boys before her, the instinctual reaction might be a piercing 'KYAAHHH!'

Yet, this sister defied convention. Her response was more along the lines of a casual declaration: "I'm hungry."

Kamijou's expression was nothing short of bewildered.

"I'm hungry..."

"..."

"I'm hungry..."

"How many times do I have to say I'm hungry?"

As if adding to Kamijou's befuddlement, Kaito managed to step onto a plastic-wrapped Yakisoba Pan with a flourish.

"How did you end up here, and why are you cosplaying as a futon?"

That was Kaito's opening line.

Not "Are you okay?" or "Are you hurt?"

Certainly, the mentality of a fifteen-year-old boy.

Despite that, the sister's grasp of Japanese was impressive.

"One could say I collapsed from exhaustion and am now on the brink of starvation."

What felt like a damp slap across Kamijou's face stirred him into action. He grabbed the Yakisoba Pan, hoping to alleviate her hunger, as she claimed.

Yet, predictably in Kamijou's life, things were seldom straightforward.

Simultaneously, the girl sunk her teeth into both Kamijou's hand and the Yakisoba Pan.

A scream reverberated throughout Academy City that day.