"No! There's still one dish that's not fully plated yet. You're not allowed to touch any of them until the presentation is absolutely perfect."
Just as Index leaped up to grab a glowing plate, Yuuya flicked his finger. All the dishes floating in mid-air suddenly rose another foot, causing Index to miss her target completely. She landed back on the floor, pouting indignantly.
"But I can't resist it anymore! The aroma of the food is everywhere!" Index twitched her nose and wiped a fresh trail of drool from her chin. She looked up eagerly at the hovering feast, reaching her hands out and jumping repeatedly like a cat trying to catch a laser pointer.
"No means no. No matter what, today is Index's very first morning at my house, so breakfast has to be absolutely perfect to do justice to this moment," Yuuya said seriously.
A happy smile spread across his face as he watched Index's adorable, desperate attempts to grab the floating food. Teasing her felt exactly like dangling a toy in front of a hyperactive kitten.
"But I don't mind the presentation as long as I can eat something delicious!" Index whined, making a cute, frustrated little "woo-woo" sound.
"Well, I mind. Now go to the bathroom, brush your teeth, and wash your face properly, or you're not allowed to touch a single bite," Yuuya ordered.
"Yuuya is so naggy! You sound just like a naggy dad!" Index complained with deep dissatisfaction, swallowing hard as she stared at the food.
"Huh? You actually have the nerve to say I sound like your dad?!" Yuuya's expression immediately turned dark as he glared at her with feigned ferocity.
"Ah—!" Index squeaked in surprise. She quickly turned and ran out of the kitchen, obediently heading to the bathroom to wash up.
'However, having her call me "Dad" isn't entirely out of the question,' Yuuya thought with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders. 'Among the many transmigrators of my generation, there were always a few degenerates who enjoyed that kind of thing. Time-traveling seniors really love the "raising a daughter" trope... even if it is a bit tacky.'
...
A few minutes later, the dining table was laden with a massive feast. Although ordinary bread could have made do, Index's dimensional stomach would probably only be 70% full from a standard breakfast.
Index held her chopsticks in a tightly clenched fist, clearly not very familiar with the dining utensils commonly used in East Asian countries.
"I won't hold back!"
Index didn't stand on ceremony at all. She started rapidly stuffing the glowing food into her mouth, her expression instantly melting into one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Her cheeks were so stuffed that her voice was completely muffled.
"Mmm! Itth sho delithious! Why ith it sho delithious?! I'm going to thwallow my tongue! Mmm, mmm!"
Yuuya sat across from her, resting his chin on his hand as he watched Index's frantic, flustered movements. Her face was quickly covered in soup and sauce, completely absorbed in the culinary experience.
'It seems that the meals I cook myself using the Master Chef (EX) skill taste even better than the pre-packaged ones generated directly by the System,' Yuuya mused. 'Probably because I'm actively using my Esper calculations to perfectly control the heat and spice distribution.'
After polishing off two entire plates, Index paused for a moment. She looked over at Yuuya, who hadn't even picked up his chopsticks yet, and asked in confusion, "Yuuya, aren't you eating?"
"I'm not that hungry yet. You go ahead and eat," Yuuya smiled.
Index licked her lips, looking guilty. "Is Yuuya angry?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"Ah... are you angry because I said you sounded like my dad?" Index blinked her large green eyes.
"No way. You can call me 'Dad' all you want, it's fine. I actually think it's quite funny," Yuuya chuckled. "I'm just already full from watching you eat so happily."
"Is Yuuya thinking about something bad?" Index's intuition flared, sensing a distinct hint of hidden malice behind his smile, and she puffed her cheeks angrily.
"No, what gave you that idea?" Yuuya replied smoothly, his cheek twitching slightly as he played the innocent saint.
"However, I have to go to school in a little while. Do you want to come with me, or would you rather stay home?" Yuuya asked, changing the subject.
"A school? Ah, I know about those! It's like the Church's seminary training centers—a place to learn magic... oh, wait, science! Can I really go there?! It must be a highly secretive and heavily guarded place!" Index resumed her hearty eating, speaking through a mouthful of rice.
"It's really not that high-class," Yuuya shrugged. 'How could a normal Japanese high school compare to the Church's magical strongholds?'
"Would it cause trouble for Yuuya if I went with you?" Index asked with genuine concern, not wanting to be a burden.
"It won't be troublesome, but we'll have to tell people you're my distant cousin visiting from abroad," Yuuya said seriously, holding up one finger.
If he brought her to class, Fukiyori Seiri would definitely see them. And considering Fukiyori was the strict, rule-abiding type who practically acted like his nagging girlfriend sometimes, explaining a live-in foreign nun would be a headache.
"If you decide to stay home and guard the apartment, I'll leave you plenty of food in the fridge," Yuuya added. By constantly emitting localized electromagnetic waves, he could monitor Index's bio-signature in the apartment anytime, anywhere. Even if Kanzaki and Stiyl managed to slip past his wards to take Index away, he would be able to teleport back in time to stop them.
"Then I want to go to school with Yuuya!" Index declared happily.
"Alright then. Let's finish eating quickly and head out."
...
Yuuya and Index were lightly jogging down the sidewalk on their way to his high school. He had purposely chosen not to use his Spatial Movement today; sometimes, walking the streets normally was the best way to encounter unexpected, interesting people.
The rhythmic sound of small leather loafers running rapidly approached from behind them. Yuuya turned his head and looked over his shoulder, a playful smile appearing on his lips.
"Hey, you look pretty energetic today, Misaka. Why didn't your personal mount—the one whose name is written as 'Kuroko' but pronounced 'Pervert'—teleport you to school today?"
Running towards them was a girl with short brown hair, wearing the iconic beige sweater and pleated skirt of the Tokiwadai Middle School uniform. As she jogged, the hem of her skirt lifted just enough to reveal her trademark athletic shorts underneath.
Misaka Mikoto.
Currently, they were quite far from the School Garden where Tokiwadai was located—about two kilometers away, in fact.
"You sound like you're gloating! Hmph, you're just as annoying as ever, Takahashi," Mikoto puffed out her cheeks slightly, clearly unhappy. "And don't talk about my friend like that! Kuroko just... strongly admires me!"
Internally, however, Mikoto was severely stressed.
'Ever since yesterday, Kuroko has been acting completely crazy!' Mikoto thought, gritting her teeth. 'She kept violently shoving photos of this bastard in my face, screaming things like, 'Apes are all heartless, two-timing beasts, Onee-sama! All boys are cheating trash! Let Kuroko comfort your broken heart!' Seriously, it's been so annoying!'
"Yes, yes. The 'admirer' who is always trying to discreetly slip 'computer accessories' into your water glass," Yuuya said with a knowing, wicked smirk.
"How... how the hell did you know about the aphrodisiacs?!" Mikoto's cheeks flushed a violent, embarrassed red. A large, pulsing tic mark appeared on her forehead as she glared at Yuuya.
"Could it be... did that starry-eyed freak tell you?!" Mikoto accused angrily. "That girl actually revealed my private dormitory information to an outsider?! That's going way too far!"
Mikoto's mind raced. 'I saw that Mental Out having a secret rendezvous with Takahashi before! That awful Shokuhou Misaki even threatened me, saying that if I ever told anyone about her secrets, she would wipe the memories of all my classmates!'
'You wretched Shokuhou! You've gone too far this time!' Mikoto cursed her rival internally.
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