August 31, 10:15 AM.
One for ¥2000.
After seeing the price, Kamijou was speechless. Standing in a converted caravan, the vendor smiled half-heartedly after seeing the look on Kamijou's face; he probably saw that look on his customers' faces a lot.
"Two thousand yen… Just what do they put in it that makes it this expensive?"
"If they told you, could they keep the business going? Ah, two hotdogs, please," said Mikoto.
While ordering the food, Kamijou looked at the movements of the vendor. The bread and the ingredients didn't differ much from normal ones, and he couldn't see anything especially strange added in. To be brutally honest, if the hotdogs here were to be compared to another vendor's, there probably wouldn't be any difference. The slightly small hotdog couldn't even be called a proper meal—at most, it was a small snack.
(Something like this can actually cost two thousand yen?) Kamijou thought while feeling fatigued, not knowing what to say.
Mikoto took the two hotdogs, and paid for the both of them.
"Ah, hey… The money…"
"Don't be so shocked, alright? Even hotdogs have difference in quality. Some vendors in Los Angeles actually have movie stars go to them in limos. Why are you scared half to death by the difference in price?"
"That's not what I mean. I'll pay for my own share."
"Ah? Don't mind the small change; besides, taking out your wallet can be troublesome, right?"
Mikoto said that lightly, so the short-in-cash student Kamijou could only laugh hollowly. Apparently, Misaka Mikoto, who attended Tokiwadai Middle School, was an authentic ojou-sama after all.
The hotdog seller, when choosing where to set up shop, probably had considered "places to eat" as there were benches nearby. The trees near the footpath stood against the sunlight like shields and the shade looked cool enough… but in reality, it was still hot; the heat wave of the Kanto district should not be looked down upon. Faint sounds of construction could be heard from afar.
"Here, take it."
Kamijou took the hotdog out of Mikoto's hand, carefully observed it, and then took a bite. Though he was somewhat unhappy about the situation, it was still fairly delicious. What made him even more unhappy, however, was that he couldn't really taste the difference between this one and one from any other store.
Mikoto bit into the hotdog, carefully making sure that the mustard didn't get on her nose, and started explaining the events to Kamijou. Unabara Mitsuki, that cool-type guy, had been sticking to her, and she had difficulty getting rid of him. She had been subjected to his invitations every single day for the past week, and to get rid of him, she needed someone to pretend to be her boyfriend—and the only choice available was Kamijou.
Kamijou looked around, and of course didn't see Unabara anywhere. After all, he couldn't be hiding behind trees twenty-four hours a day, spying…
"Though, now that we've lost that Unabara, there should be no need to act now, right? Even if we act in a place where he can't see us, it'd be meaningless."
With Kamijou's summer homework piled sky-high, he really didn't have time to get into other people's problems today.
"Hmm… though we've only lost him temporarily for now, I'd definitely be stuck with him next time, so I better use this chance to make sure he'll never come bothering me again."
"…Oi."
"So if I be with you for the whole day today, let as many people see us as possible—even better if Unabara sees us a few times—just so the impression would be more reinforced. If we can make Unabara stay away from me, then it'll be all good… What, why are you holding your head like that?"
"Nothing." Kamijou held his head, and sighed.
In other words, Mikoto was asking Kamijou to pretend to be her boyfriend for the day. Kamijou was very worried though, since if the plan succeeded, he would become "a total bastard that goes after middle school students." Though, since Kamijou was living together with Index at this point, he really didn't have to put up a self-righteous façade like that—but at least he didn't know how old Index was. Even a female teacher could look only twelve; a woman's age was unfathomable.
And most importantly, he still had his summer homework to do. Due to those various reasons, Kamijou really wanted to refuse to help Mikoto, but he noticed that Mikoto's eyes were starting to show some impatience, and that somewhat alarmed Kamijou. If she really got annoyed over that, he wouldn't only not have time to do his homework, but would also be forced into a 24-hour Ironman endurance battle (though for some reason, Kamijou was only worried about the fight dragging on and not the possibility that he would lose).
Seeing Kamijou keeping silent, Mikoto felt discontented, and said, "Oi, if you have any questions or thoughts, then say them already."
"Thoughts, huh…? Do you want to rub the mustard off your nose first?"
"What?!" Mikoto blushed bright-red. She wrapped up the hotdog with a paper towel,put it on the bench, turned away from Kamijou, and took out her handkerchief, hastily trying to rub the mustard off the tip of her nose.
"Uu~~?!"
Then Mikoto held her nose, and kicked her legs furiously. Apparently, she had rubbed too quickly and accidentally got mustard inside.
"Ah… are you alright?"
Kamijou imitated Mikoto, wrapping up his hotdog in the same way and putting it down on the bench, before using his now-free hands to search his pockets, looking for tissues or handkerchiefs.
At that point, Mikoto strained a smile, and said, "I'm… I'm alright. Actually, nothing happened."
It looked like she wanted to hide at all costs the fact that she made a mess of herself with the mustard. Mikoto turned back to Kamijou, trying to fake as if nothing were out of the ordinary, but the mustard was still apparently affecting her nose. She was not only blushing, but her lips were also tightly pressed, as if she were suppressing the urge to let tears flow. Even her eyebrows were quivering.
"Get… get on with it already, any questions or thoughts?"
"Eh, are you really alright? Then again, this is so like you, crying over something this small. You actually cry a lot, don't you…?"
"Shut up! I said nothing happened, so nothing happened! Oi, don't put up a resigned face and approach me with that tissue!"
Mikoto shot vicious look at Kamijou, so he hurriedly retrieved his hands.
(Fine, if she wants me to forget this, I'll just pretend this never happened.)
"Eh?"
Kamijou involuntarily let out a slight sound.
In the small space between Kamijou and Mikoto were two tidily wrapped hotdogs. Needless to say, they were their hotdogs, but which one belonging to who couldn't be distinguished.
Mikoto also noticed.
"Eh… Do you remember which one was yours?"
"I forgot; it's probably the one on the right."
Kamijou went for one without much thought. However, Mikoto grabbed Kamijou's wrist with surprising speed.
Kamijou stopped and looked over at Mikoto.
"Wait… wait a minute, let me check."
"What?"
Mikoto grabbed the one in Kamijou's hand and compared the two of them. She peeled the paper towel away and looked carefully at the bitten parts.
To Kamijou's eyes, there wasn't much difference between the two. Both hotdogs were half-eaten, so there was no difference in size. The ingredients for both were the same too.
Then again, it was the exact same hotdog; Kamijou didn't understand why it should matter which one was which.
"Did you figure it out?"
"…"
"Did you figure it out?"
"…"
"Did you—"
"Ahh, I don't know! Fine, as you said, you take the right and I'll take the left! Seriously, you should at least care about this a little, idiot!"
Kamijou took the hotdog from a babbling Mikoto, tilting his head in puzzlement.
"Sigh, I don't know what you are so uptight about; didn't we order the same thing?"
He then bit into the hotdog as if nothing was wrong. Of course, there wasn't any change in the taste either.
Mikoto, who until a moment ago was still making a fuss, suddenly became quiet. For some reason, even her movements froze up.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Mikoto answered.
Then after staring at her hotdog for a while, she finally nibbled into it like a small animal. Her face seemed to blush slightly.
"…Back to the original topic, I need your help to 'act' with me to fool Unabara. Do you have any questions or thoughts?"
"I say, just what is wrong with you? You suddenly became so timid, does that means getting mustard on the nose actually has this kind of power?"
"Shut up! It wasn't because of that reason… Wait, just what am I saying!? Anyway, say any question or thoughts you have already!"
Mikoto, with a red face, leaned over and shouted, their faces almost touching. Kamijou hurriedly leaned backwards.
"Uwaa! Uh… Uh… my thoughts are 'are you kidding me!?', and my question is 'just what do we have to do to act like a couple?'"
"Eh? What do you mean doing what…?"
"What I mean is, what do we have to do so that we appear as a couple to everyone?"
"…"
"…"
Neither Mikoto and Kamijou had any idea what to do next.
It wasn't just by doing an activity that two people became a couple. A true couple, no matter what they were doing, would always appear as a true couple; the inexperienced duo here had no idea how to portray that.