#raildex

Ok little rant: no hate to no one but some of the oufits in toaru are like, ugly, weird or both.

“No Reflection Shield.”

Accelerator scoffed. “You think I can’t keep it at a closer radius?”

“I know you can,” Mikoto said while pulling at the slide until it clicked again. “It just won’t make for an interesting exercise if I break my arms right away.”

“It’ll be unfortunate. But it’s not something the Doc can’t fix.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” She raised the gun to his eye level. “Are you chickening out?”

His eyes widened. He smacked her hand against the elevated ledge of the booth. When he managed to get a hold of her, Mikoto didn’t know. Her fingers, the ones curled around the handle of the gun, were being squashed against the cold plastic surface before the action had registered in her brain. She watched them with a detached fascination as they began to throb painfully.

“Never. Do that,” Accelerator was saying. “It’s not a joke.” His gaze remained dead set on the floor, but his tone was icy in the space between them. “Point this on me again, and I’ll rip your arm off.”

It wasn’t a warning or an empty threat. It was an ultimatum. At least, this was what he wanted her to believe. Sure, she was going to have marks across her palm from the pressure for a couple of hours. Nothing was broken or bruised, though. His grip, while firm, was slack enough that she could escape with a simple tug. The same hand holding her down also trembled ever so slightly, and the skin-to-skin contact didn't go unnoticed. She could zap him if she tried. Guilt wormed into her chest, making Mikoto feel even a tiny bit responsible for this sorry display.

She patted him on the shoulder with her free hand. "My bad, then."

"You're such a brat." Accelerator let go with a sigh. His cane clicked against the tiles as he retreated closer to the wall behind them. "There is one more shot. Make it count."

His back was turned, and his Reflection Shield was down. She had a clear shot. Mikoto whipped the gun around and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed louder than her Railgun ever did, cascading off the walls like a distant thunderclap. A wisp of smoke trickled from the end of the barrel, obscuring her view of the target. She focused on it until the whine in her ears subsided.

"Was it a hit?" Accelerator’s question carried over as if through static.

The hole was on the target's body this time. "Shoulder.”

"Broken cartilage at best. They will run away if they aren't delirious from the pain."

Placing the gun on the ledge, she contemplated it. "I'll fry them, then."

“And it comes down to whether you have access to your powers, yet again. This is getting nowhere.” He let out a humorless chuckle and pushed himself off the wall. “Let’s go. I’ll call someone to clean everything up.”

“Wait!” Mikoto bridged the gap between them, getting a hold of his vest. “I…”

It was harder to string words together when he looked at her with such a calm, ordinary expression. Malice or indifference, she could understand and recognize. Accelerator was a predictable person, even when he tried to convince everyone else of the opposite. But the two of them holding a normal conversation without threats, deals, or bargains involved?

“It wasn’t a waste. Coming here, that is. I–I think I needed the distraction.” She gulped. “So, what I’m trying to say is…I am glad you brought me here.”

“Hey, wait.” He rubbed at his temple as if trying to fend off another headache. “Are you thanking me?”

“Yeah.”