Misaka 10000 (Toaru fanfiction)

Chapter 1: The Starting Line

"Akh, I miss my mother cooking"

strolling along the side of the street, his hand clutched a plastic bag. few cups of ready noodles, and a humble assortment of frozen ready meals, that what was Within its confines.

Raising his gaze towards the darkening sky, he could see the fading glow of the sun, signaling the imminent arrival of nightfall upon the city.

With a wistful expression, he continued his stroll, the plastic bag swaying in rhythm with his movements.

It was Sunday, and tomorrow he would have to return to school. He worked diligently alongside his fellow students to enhance their esper abilities, perhaps with the hope of one day becoming the eighth Level 5 esper in Academy City. However...

"There no use after all huh"

He has already lost all hope long ago.

His name was Ichiman, a Level 2 esper, a gemstone who had made his way to the Academy City two years prior.

Finally reaching the abode he called home, he retrieved the keys from the bucket and turned the lock, gradually opening the door. Inside, the residence resembled any ordinary economical house—a bathroom and a spacious living room awaited. The kitchen seamlessly connected to the living room, allowing anyone seated there to observe the culinary activities. At the end of the living room, there was a nook.

Placing the bag in the kitchen, he promptly flung himself onto the bed, his weary face sinking into the softness of the pillow.

Another exhausting and uneventful day had come to pass. 

He adjusted his head slightly, allowing his left eye to catch a glimpse of the table before him. A white envelope rested there, silently beckoning his attention.

Without shifting from the comfort of his bed, he reached out and retrieved the envelope, turning it around to examine the sender. "I don't know why he still believes in me, that old man," he mumbled to himself as he set the envelope down.

The sender was none other than the man who had given him the opportunity to come to the Academy City.

It all began two years ago when Ichiman was nothing more than an ordinary middle school boy, blending into the crowd with his unremarkable appearance. Each morning, he dragged himself to school with a deep-rooted disdain that surpassed mere dislike. This monotony had consumed his existence for as long as he could remember—a ceaseless cycle of indifference.

But fate, with its capricious whims, chose to intervene one fateful day. As Ichiman crossed the bustling street, lost in the sea of nameless faces, a malevolent truck hurtled towards him, determined to bring an end to his young life.

Although the pedestrian light gleamed green, seemingly granting him safe passage, it offered no protection against the imminent collision, as his mother had often warned him.

Everything was so fast that he felt nothing

The surrounding crowd swarmed the scene of the accident, some averting their gaze from the gruesome sight, while others summoned their composure to lend a helping hand.

From head to toe. The surface of his skin, once smooth and untouched, was now a landscape of chaos and anguish. Deep gashes marred his flesh, oozing crimson trails that stained his torn clothing, evidence of the impact that had rent his body apart.

Initially, no one expected him to survive, given the severe condition he was in. His injuries seemed insurmountable

And yet, in a miraculous twist of fate, Ichiman managed to cling to life by a thread, defying the truck's relentless onslaught. His perseverance bought him just enough time for the wailing sirens of an ambulance to pierce the air, whisking him away to the nearest hospital.