*Zap!*
Such was the sound of a delicate maiden's heart overcome by anger, at least in regards to 'Academy City's #3 Esper'.
*Bang!*
And
that, was the sound of a delicate maiden's 50,000 electrical volts—or about the strength of a taser—striking an inch from Jaune's feet as he tap-danced on the floor tiles of the phone store.
"Well?" asked the peeved and trigger-happy magical girl claiming to be an esper, arms crossed. "Are you going to take back your words?"
Yes, please have mercy, he intended to say, but—prompted by a nagging thought that wouldn't go away—what came out was, "Isn't this just proving my point!? What kind of person would throw a tantrum over being called childish, except someone who's childish?"
"Ohmigod, Jaune, shut up!" cried Tattletale as more electricity ripped through the room.
(In truth, nothing and nobody had been hit yet, and had Jaune and Tattletale calmed down they would have noticed it. But lightning was lightning, a terror to behold.)
As he twirled and dipped in a manner reminiscent of a jester performing at the royal court, complete with an imperious tyrant watching on to cast judgment, Jaune looked toward the opposite side of the room for aid. The other boy, the one in a navy blue school uniform, had grabbed the store employee at the first hint of trouble and taken cover over there. They hid behind the counter now, with the part-timer leaning into that boy's arms. He might be mistaken, but she seemed to be blushing up a storm as she squirmed and fidgeted in the protective embrace. Before Jaune could even say anything, the boy gave a short bow in apology and slooowly withdrew his head below the counter, out of view.
Well, alright then.
In that case, what of his partner in crime? His boon companion, Tattletale? No doubt, she would have a plan to rescue him from this mess.
He spotted her nearby, notably out of the line of fire, having squeezed herself into a corner. Their eyes met, and she gave him a thumbs-up of encouragement.
No, seriously, he could use some support right now. Do more, dammit.
To his surprise, she did. Superpowered intuition had deciphered his silent message from across the distance, letting the heartfelt(?) plea reach her. Tattletale made her move.
She raised a second thumb.
"You can do it. Don't give up!"
He really wanted to give up.
-o-
Handy Antenna pair contract, requirement #3: Submit a two shot photo
A duo stood in the frame, boy and girl, with the girl elbowing the boy aside to put herself front and center. The boy was retaliating by pinching her cheek, while she shoved a hand in his face.
"This misfortunate Touma cannot tell if they get along, or if they want to fight each other."
—Kamijou Touma, amateur photographer.
-o-
"Uhehehe, Gekota~!"
Academy City was a strange place. Magic lived in plain sight here under the guise of science. Putting the illogical nature aside, it's rather like a Semblance in practice, unique yet ubiquitous, and nobody in the vicinity had batted an eye at the electric light show of 'Academy City's #3 Esper', Misaka Mikoto. Thankfully, her
attention span anger possessed a duration lasting about as long as one of her lightning bolts, and all parties had soon reached an accord.
The girl's unhealthy obsession helped him there. A frog in hand was worth two locked behind the store shelves, or however the adage went, and Misaka had her priorities straight. At the moment, she was preoccupied by the two sets of frog-themed phone straps which she held out on either sides of her, looking from one to the other with a sparkle in her eyes and forgiveness in her heart…along with a face that a person should never make in public, of adoration bordering on mania.
She was panting. It's really not a good look.
Jaune and the rest of the group watched on, meandering outside of the phone store a mere few yards from the earlier excitement. What did it say about the people of Academy City, that they can just look past a person going on a rampage as if it were another Tuesday? In Vale, a bystander would have the presence of mind to call the police. Here, the part-timer simply got back to work with a little persuasion from the pointy-haired boy rounding out their quartet. Even now, the people passing by paid little attention to the mad giggles and fawning of an obsessed fan clutching her prizes, at best giving her a wide berth.
After a minute of bearing witness to the childish (though never tell her that) girl's steady descent into her own world, Jaune sidled over to Tattletale, and whispered, "Should we be worried?"
"Nah, it's fine. We've just become her favorite people on Earth, is all," replied Tattletale as she continued tap-tap-tapping away on her new phone. The girl moonlighting as a supervillainess currently disguised as an ordinary girl had been unable to put the device down from the moment she unboxed the thing. Her fingers danced on the screen at blazing speed, and her eyes never strayed far from it for long. Rather offhandedly, she added, "Well, her favorite barring a certain someone, of course."
Those words turned Misaka so pale that Jaune would believe her a ghost and, with a squeak, the girl fumbled everything she held. She dove after the frogs a split second later, getting them back in the air before they could hit the ground, and between juggling them she stammered out a rapid-fire string of denials.
"I-I-I have
no idea what you are talking about! None at all! Who is my favorite? Him!?" She whipped her head towards the subject in question standing by her side, then whirled back at them. "That must be a joke, who would like him, there is nothing going on here, we wouldn't make a good couple anyway…w-would we?" She half-asked, half-pleaded that last bit, peering up with an unmistakable anticipation at the same boy she had so fervently protested an attraction to, as if to give him the opportunity to refute those claims and sweep her into his arms.
Blink, blink. The boy stared at them all, total incomprehension written clear across his face.
Jaune grimaced, at first believing it a deliberate act put on to avoid having to reject the girl outright. As time passed with the other boy just tilting his head without any sign of recognizing the awkward silence, Jaune came around to the idea that it was genuine. The guy did not understand the situation. This was further bolstered by how Misaka reacted to him. Rather than taking offense, she sagged her shoulders, and sighed. On her face, relief warred with disappointment.
My, how complicated, and certainly not something he wanted to get in the middle of. Jaune shot Tattletale an unamused look for her part in instigating this scene, and cut into the conversation to change the subject.
"Well, putting that aside—"
"...my love life is something that can be put aside…"
"
Putting that aside," he stressed, "here is the coin, as agreed." His hand reached inside an empty pocket, pretending to rummage while he summoned a gold coin from his otherworldly dimensional space. According to Tattletale, its value more than paid for the two phones and a contract plan, but they had deemed it a fair price in the circumstances. The alternative was an exchange rate of zero, with maybe a stay in a police station. Having someone to deal with the paperwork was great, too, since they couldn't read a single line of the contract. He passed it over to Misaka, who shook off her malaise to adopt an expression of great interest. "Get it checked if you need to, but I guarantee you it's real."
She studied the coin, tracing a thumb over the surface. With a soft glow, sparks of electricity crackled back and forth along the metal.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Jaune noted a band of delinquent-looking teens walking down the nearby flight of stairs into the Underground Mall. They saw the burst of electricity, and it prompted them to study Misaka in close detail. Recognition soon dawned, after which the horrified boys fell to infighting as each sought the privilege of escaping up the staircase first. The byplay suggested that their dainty acquaintance had a reputation.
With a hum of satisfaction, Misaka tucked the coin away in her purse. "No need for that. This is real gold."
"How can you—"
"Conductivity," interrupted Tattletale to answer him.
Misaka showed a moment of surprise, which turned into an enthusiastic nod.
"That's right! Gold carries a conductivity of 4.5x10^7 Siemens per meter. At current temperature and for a sample the size of that coin, the rate at which a spark travels through the coin can determine the purity of the gold content. It's a pretty reliable test, as counterfeiters generally use brass or nickel to create fake gold, and both are worse conductors in comparison. I have heard that one of Academy City's universities made breakthroughs on an alloy with similar properties to gold, although the rarity of it means that it would be worth a lot
more right now. Of course, within a temperature range of zero to ten degree Celcius you can mimic something that can pass a basic conductivity test to a certain extent with a 4:4:1:1 ratio of—"
The explanation devolved into a slew of scientific babble that made Jaune's head spin, composed of more numbers than words. On Tattletale's end, she didn't contribute much to the discussion either. In fact, her face had started to develop an unfriendly blankness, the smile turning wooden. Jaune spied her hands twitching, before they came up to give a short three claps of applause that stopped Misaka mid-sentence.
"Precisely what I was about to say," Tattletale sweetly chirped. "Maybe you have a calling as an appraiser. It'd certainly be more useful than the zaps you were sending off at us."
Misaka frowned. It wasn't hard to get the impression that the compliment sounded…patronizing, and just a tad insincere.
*Crackle*
Locks of her short, brown hair briefly rose upward.
Jaune found it fascinating. Not the hair—he had seen better—but the activation of her power. It flowed with a natural ease, smooth to a degree that Semblances had a hard time imitating. There had been no telltale glow to the eyes, nor a hint of meditative concentration. The maneuver seemed to occur on an almost instinctual level.
"That was me going easy on you," Misaka retorted. "I'm a Level Five, one of only seven in Academy City. They call me the Railgun. You wouldn't want to see me at my full power."
"A railgun?" Jaune asked. "As in…" He gulped at the way she grinned. Could he survive the equivalent of a weapon designed to be strapped on an Atlas airship as the main cannon? Doubtful. "How on Remnant is that fair?" he murmured to himself.
As soon as he said it, he realized his mistake. The soft, jazzy music playing from the mall's overhead speakers had failed to sufficiently drown out a turn of phrase that did not make sense outside of his home universe. Already, he could see Misaka mouthing the word 'Remnant', seeming to wonder if she had misheard.
Tattletale came to his rescue. "Yeah, it's amazing how big our world is! The brochures say 'esper', but it really is different in person, huh?" she gushed, hiding any bad feelings she directed at Misaka earlier to sell the distraction. "The evening news makes it sound like parlor tricks, sometimes. Who woulda thought it can get so strong?" She then angled her head so the two locals would not see, and sent Jaune a sharp glance, eyes narrowed and one corner of her lips down-turned. A warning.
Don't let your ignorance show.
"Right, what Tattletale said." He winced as the glance became a full-on glare.
"Tattletale?" Misaka asked.
He quickly lied, "A nickname."
Tattletale chimed in, "Yup, it's a term of endearment he uses for me. I actually go by Taylor."
Now it was Jaune's turn to stare. Why did she always insist on giving a false identity?
Leaning down, he muttered in her ear, "Lisa—"
"I told you, it's Tattletale while I'm on the job," she whispered back.
"Then, Tattletale—"
"Except when I don't have my mask during a job, then it's Taylor."
"I think I'm just going to call you Bob," he deadpanned. "Seriously, though, does it matter? There aren't heroes or villains to use your real identity against you in this universe."
"It's the principle of the thing!" she insisted, which did not clarify much in his opinion.
"Um, excuse me."
At that, they both snapped to casual poses, and displayed their best innocent smiles for Misaka. Jaune rather thought he succeeded at it better than Tattletale did.
"So you're…"
"I'm Taylor." / "She's Taylor."
"...Uh-huh, and he's…"
"Jaune." Wait, was he also supposed to give a fake name? Too late now. "No nickname to speak of. Thanks a lot for helping us out, Misaka." Jaune then turned to the one person left unnamed in their group, letting him get a chance to introduce himself.
The other boy had not spoken much—or at all—and in fact gave no indication of following the conversation, instead awkwardly browsing on his phone. He continued typing for a while, before he noticed all the attention on him, whereupon he shoved the phone in a pocket and pretended (badly) that he was a contributing part of the group this whole time. Growing flustered under their scrutiny, he peered from one face to the next as if searching for a hint of the current topic.
Jaune decided to help out. "I'm Jaune. Good to meetcha."
Epiphany struck like a bolt from the blue. The other boy dropped a fist into his palm, nodding his head. With complete confidence, he pointed to himself, and said, "Mai namu Kamijou Touma." Both hands tapped his chest, then extended out towards Jaune and Tattletale. "Naice to mit you."
The area around them grew still. The rest of the mall carried on a lively hubbub, but within their group, silence reigned supreme for a good long moment until Jaune broke it.
"Errrr, what?" was his witty response.
Undeterred, the other boy gave a second attempt, "How is doing you?"
Jaune coughed, and scratched his cheek. "That's, uh, that's a rather bold thing to ask. Is this a normal topic to talk about in Japan?"
In tandem, Tattletale and Misaka facepalmed, the latter groaning as her not-crush resorted to using gestures to help convey his meaning—which didn't actually help and almost resulted in him slapping Jaune with his right hand by accident, with Jaune dodging at the last second.
"I am so sorry for this idiot, please do not mind him," Misaka said, walking over and issuing a string of rebukes to the boy currently wriggling like a worm.
Jaune frowned as he listened in. The things she said kind of sounded like words, yet they also did not.
Something odd was going on here. The phenomenon reminded Jaune of their earlier experience in the phone store, where what should have been a normal conversation saw a complete breakdown of communication. He looked around the Underground Mall, noting again the writing that seemed closer to art, recalling the contract they signed that used the same letters. He pricked his ears to catch the conversations of people passing by, conversations where he failed to pick out a recognizable word, meaning that the part-timer and his new acquaintances were not isolated cases. The clues began to shape up a loose picture, not quite complete. It was enough to make a guess.
He tapped Tattletale on the shoulder, and said quietly, "Could there…I know this might sound insane, but could there be such a thing as a second language?"
That got a laugh from her. "Are you kidding? There's a whooole lot more than two. You remember what I said about currencies? In a way, it goes back to that. Ours is called English, and they're talking in Japanese over there."
And that was the mystery solved.
"How do people between countries do
anything with each other?" he asked in incredulity.
"We learn their language. Duh."
His world had not needed to do anything of the sort, and Jaune wondered if they were better or worse for that. On Remnant, everyone used the same language. He wanted to say it was easier. No matter where a person hailed from, they could communicate with other people. Here, barriers existed to make it harder for people to connect.
Yet, was Earth not admirable, nevertheless? How kind people were, to make the effort for one another. His world might have offered a simpler solution, but nobody ever saw the words they say as a point of commonality, or an opportunity to foster understanding.
After he mentioned it, Tattletale reflected on the notion. "That's a little too idealistic, but I can't say it's totally wrong. I've heard from people that knowing more than one tongue opens a person's mind. The difference in worldviews enhances one's sense of perspective or something. They question more, doubt more, think more."
"Do you know a second language?"
"Even better." She puffed out her chest, smirking. "I'm fluent in a universal language. Body language. It lets me grasp the true intent of the person, no matter how well they lie."
"Does that really count?" Jaune asked, more than a little skeptical. "What's he saying, then?"
He indicated the wriggling worm that has yet to give up on talking to them despite knowing not a lick of their language. An 'A' for effort, though perhaps a 'D' at best on a test.
"Heh. Easy-peasy. He's…" Tattletale stared. Then she stared some more. Jaune was about to press the point when a commotion broke out.
"Aaaargh!" Misaka yelled, hands going up to violently rub her hair, her patience exhausted.
"He's being stupid."
"Can't argue with that."
With a hop, Misaka grabbed onto the boy's waving arm, holding it still. Uncaring of how it looked to other people, she plunged a hand into his pocket, and over his protests she rummaged around. Out came his phone, and Misaka began pressing buttons, the furious click-clacks ending with a melodious jingle. She slapped it back into the boy's hand.
"There, it's done!"
Jaune jolted at the overlapping voices. One was hers, quieter and saying something in 'Japanese' as Tattletale called it. The second voice was also hers, and it spoke in 'English', louder and coming from a slightly different place from the girl. It did not match the movements of her lips, and carried a subtle electronic twang that was almost imperceptible.
"Your phone has a translation app! Use it!"
"Whoa! Since when was that there?" said a deeper voice, belonging to the boy. As clued in by Misaka, it emanated from the small device he was holding.
"Are you a Neanderthal? It's included by default on pretty much every device sold in Academy City for the last two years!"
On the sideline, a flabbergasted Tattletale delved into her own phone in search of the translation app. Jaune hastily copied her, navigating to an icon bearing—for whatever reason—a cutesy cartoon cat. A press, and a light green screen appeared, crisscrossed by lines. He checked with Tattletale, whose phone displayed an identical image. The lines on her screen oscillated when she tried talking into it.
"Testing. Testing. Am I talking in Japanese?"
"Yes, you are," answered both Misaka and the other boy, the latter giving a thumbs-up for emphasis.
"Holy crap!" Tattletale exclaimed in utter delight.
Jaune peeked over her shoulder. "I'm guessing this is new for you?"
"We don't have software anywhere close to this." She observed the two locals, and the way they kept pace with her words without confusion. "And it's not simply translating! Languages have different rules and order of tenses. A sentence in English might only make sense in Japanese after you write out the entire thing. But here, there's a delay of less than a second before the app starts talking. It must have a predictive component, analyzing the inflections and speech patterns of the speaker to figure out what they might say next. That's why the output content sounds so natural!"
"Okay."
"Okay!? Is that all you have to say? This is groundbreaking!"
"I'm going to be honest here, Tattletale. I have no frame of reference for anything you just said."
Misaka heard that, and she chuckled. "Not many would. Academy City products are estimated to be twenty to thirty years ahead of the wider world. A lot of them are still in the experimental stage, so you might get a version like it released in America in a decade. The adaptive learning component works best when the app is exclusive to one person. The program refines itself over time, and at a certain point it should achieve a 99.9% accuracy rate, according to the developer." She sniffed disdainfully at Jaune. "Can your supposed 'better phone' do that?"
She seemed to have held a grudge over him calling the phones in the store 'low-tech'. In his defense, they very much were when compared to a scroll, looking like bricks with their bulky metal and plastic frames. If that was the top of the line, then how long would it take for Hardlight screens to become commonplace?
But that was from a hardware perspective. Provided an example of what an Earth phone can do, Jaune now studied the device in his hand with a critical eye, browsing over the menus with a sense of awe.
Scrolls didn't possess even a rudimentary program that can provide translation services. Because, again, Remnant had one language. They didn't
need such an app.
They could do with a lot of these other ones, though.
A glance through the app store and Jaune concluded that on the software side, Earth was insane. Perhaps it was a demonstration of how a world with a hundred different languages and a hundred different Kingdoms would develop, but the variety of options boggled the mind. Apps for things he never thought needed an app, or was possible to turn into an app. Education courses and physical wellness trainers that meant a phone could perform the function of a school for its owner. Dozens of cybersecurity programs as opposed to Remnant's single one, to turn this device into a digital fortress. Games in the thousands that would take multiple lifetimes to play. It's like there's no such thing as a monopoly. Competition taken to a level he cannot fathom.
One development in particular, he thought, was critical and should be introduced to Remnant as soon as possible when he returned home. The Handy Antenna service was part of the pair contract package, along with the Gekota frog straps that Misaka coveted. It worked by transforming every phone into a short-range relay. With two phones, that was similar to a pair of walkie-talkies in practice, eminently useful for Jaune and Tattletale as they traveled to new universes. With more units, they connected one by one to form a web until a city could maintain its network from one end to the other despite the absence of a signal tower. Spread relay devices out over the Grimmlands, and in theory the whole world would enjoy service without the need to build expensive, vulnerable CCT towers that required defending from the Grimm. It's no weapon to help him save Beacon, but it could have massive implications for his world.
All in all, Misaka Mikoto had good cause to be proud of her people's ingenuity, and his admission of that sentiment launched her mood to the stratosphere.
"I told you so~" she boasted.
He could have done without the smug, though.
"Ugh. So annoying." / "Ugh. So annoying."
The two boys of the group blinked, then shared a look. They had spoken with identical tones, emulated by their phones, full of world-weary experience.
"You too?" the other boy asked.
Jaune nodded, and jerked a thumb at Tattletale. Nothing needed to be said.
They maintained silent eye contact for a while longer. Then, as one, they moved to stand in front of each other.
"Kamijou Touma."
"Once again, Jaune Arc."
Jaune offered a handshake, hesitating as Kamijou responded with a bow. Adjusting, he copied the motion, retracting his hand just as Kamijou extended his own, fingers barely missing. They stopped, stared, then broke into laughter. Already, a sense of camaraderie was forming.
Like recognized like, it seemed.
A similar thing was taking place with Tattletale and Misaka. The two girls stood side by side, arms crossed and leveling flat stares at their companions.
"You have it hard."
"Likewise. My sympathies."
Author's Notes: Back. ∠ "( — ⌓ — )