Chapter 4: Residual Signal

I was awake.

But at the same time, I wasn’t.

My body felt heavy, like I had collapsed after running until my legs gave out. My eyes refused to open, no matter how hard I tried to force them. It wasn’t pain—just resistance, as if my eyelids had decided they were done listening to me.

Then the images started.

Misaki.

But not now.

They weren’t happening around me—they were happening inside me.

I wasn’t there. I wasn’t in them. I had no control, no presence. It felt like sitting in the back row of a theater, watching something projected directly onto the inside of my skull.

A movie.

My memories.

Except they played as if they were happening in real time.

The sensation made my head tingle, a strange crawling feeling just beneath my scalp. The images stuttered, blurred, and Misaki’s face warped like a frame melting under heat.

“No—!”

The word slipped out before I even realized my mouth could move.

The images shattered.

Air rushed into my lungs.

I heard a sharp gasp.

My eyes flew open.

Misaki was staring at me.

Not smug. Not playful.

Genuinely stunned.

“…Did you just resist my ability?”

Her voice was sharp, incredulous.

Before I could answer, my gaze snapped to the side.

Dolly.

She was slumped against the wall, completely limp.

My heart lurched. “Dolly—!”

I tried to move, but Misaki stepped in front of me instantly.

“Relax,” she said quickly. “She’s asleep.”

“…Asleep?”

“I used my ability on her already,” Misaki continued, her tone unsettlingly casual. “She won’t remember meeting me. Or you. Or this conversation.”

She said it like she was commenting on the weather.

Then her expression hardened.

“Now,” she said, eyes boring into mine, “how did you resist my power?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“I really don’t!”

Her stare sharpened. “Then tell me what your ability is. You have one. Otherwise that wouldn’t be possible. And you being in this facility at all is already suspicious.”

“I’m… not sure,” I admitted. “I mean—I might’ve known, but you deleted my memories, right? A few hours ago?”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“…How do you know that?”

Did I mess up?

“You resisted that too?” she asked slowly.

I swallowed.

I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth.

“Y-you said you erased her memories,” I said, pointing weakly at Dolly. “So I just assumed you did the same to me.”

Misaki stared at me for a long moment.

“…Yeah,” she said finally, looking away. “Right.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Anyway,” she continued, clearly not done, “what do you mean you don’t know your ability?”

“Well… when they brought me here, they were testing my regeneration. I heal faster than a normal human.”

“Oh. A Gemstone?” she asked.

“That’s where it gets weird,” I said quickly. “Apparently I did that without ever having an AIM field.”

Her eyebrow twitched.

“…That’s the dumbest lie you’ve told so far.”

“I’m not done.”

She sighed. “Go on.”

“They tried to awaken me as an esper. It took a while. Days. Weeks. I lost track. Then they put me in a room with another esper, and I resisted their power too. A woman—Kihara Atsuko—said something about matching frequencies, but I was too overwhelmed to understand.”

Misaki went quiet.

“…From your face,” she said slowly, “I can tell you’re not lying.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what you figured out while you were locked up?”

“Locked?” she repeated.

“Like her,” I said, pointing at Dolly.

“She… I get why they’d lock her up,” Misaki said slowly. “But you? You’re just a normal girl.”

“Y-yeah.”

It was strangely embarrassing to admit.

“Then why would they lock you up?”

“I think they were scared.”

She nodded. “Yeah. That tracks. They wear helmets around me too—to stop me from controlling them.”

“So… that’s why I don’t really know what my power is.”

“Oh,” she said. “I think I do.”

“What?”

“When I used my ability on you, they said something about you being the key to studying how to replicate Level 5 powers.”

“…Me?”

“I didn’t get it either,” she admitted. “But now I do.”
She hesitated. “I think you can copy abilities.”

“…What?”

“That would explain how you resisted mine.”
She glanced at Dolly. “Want to test it?”

“You’re serious?”

She looked away. “…Yeah.”

“Okay.”

She blinked. “Just like that?”

“How else would we do it?”

She studied me, then smiled faintly.

“Mental Out lets me interfere with brains,” she said. “I use a controller to direct it. Try pressing a button while thinking you want her to raise her hand.”

She handed me the remote.

The plastic felt warm.

Nothing happened.

Then—

Something clicked.

Not a sound. A pattern.

I knew where the signal went.

I pressed the button.

Dolly’s finger twitched.

Barely.

My breath caught.

Again.

More movement.

My head buzzed—images flashing behind my eyes.
A younger Misaki. Alone. Clutching a controller, forcing herself to learn.

Then it vanished.

I focused.

Pressed again.

Dolly’s hand lifted.

Then fell.

Pain spiked through my skull and I staggered back.

Misaki was already kneeling beside her.

“…She’s fine,” she said. “Still asleep.”

“That was reckless,” she added, standing. “Don’t push yourself like that.”

“It just… felt natural.”

She stared at the controllers.

“…That’s what scares me.”

Footsteps echoed outside.

“Come on,” she said. “We shouldn’t stay.”

A week passed.

I knew because the lights changed.

Because the tests stopped.

Because no one came for me.

They left me alone long enough for time to feel real again.

When the door finally opened, it wasn’t a researcher.

It was Misaki.

She looked the same—but also not. Composed. Prepared.

“Ready?” she asked.

“For what?”

She smiled faintly. “To meet someone.”

Dolly’s room was brighter than I remembered.

She was sitting up in bed, knees drawn close, a book resting awkwardly in her hands. When she noticed me, her eyes widened.

“Oh!” she said. “Mirai!”

My chest tightened.

She remembered me.

“You came back,” Dolly continued, smiling shyly. “They said you might.”

“Yeah, I really wanted to” I replied, surprised at how easily the words came.

Her smile grew.

Then her gaze shifted.

To Misaki.

She froze.

For a second—just one—her expression wavered. Confusion. Recognition. Something deeper, buried under layers of careful shaping.

Then—

“…Mi-chan?”

Misaki inhaled softly.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s me.”

Dolly’s face lit up.

“You came back,” she repeated, voice trembling just a little. “You really came back.”

Misaki smiled.

It wasn’t her usual smile.

It was smaller. Careful. Almost fragile.

“I told you I would,” she said.

I felt it then.

A subtle pressure at the edge of my thoughts.

It was misaki using her powers.

And somehow… my presence steadied the signal instead of breaking it.

From then on, things changed.

Not dramatically.

Subtly.

I became the one Dolly talked to when she felt tired.

The one she asked small, strange questions she didn’t want to ask Mi-chan.

“Do you think it would hurt,” she asked me once, fingers brushing the edge of the machines beneath her skin, “to live outside?”

I didn’t know how to answer.

So I said the truth.

“I think it’s scary,” I said. “But not in a bad way.”

She thought about that for a long time.

Misaki watched us from the corner of the room.

Sometimes, when she spoke, I felt it.

A resonance.

Her thoughts didn’t overwrite mine.

They slid alongside them.

And every so often—

I’d see something.

Misaki alone in a white room.

A controller clenched in trembling hands.

A younger version of her biting her lip, forcing herself to try again.

The image never lasted.

But it left behind a quiet understanding.

We played games.

Usually, either Dolly or I would win. Misaki never managed to, which was honestly pretty funny.

But one day, after winning, Dolly finished a water bottle and tossed it toward the trash can.

It landed cleanly.

I tried to do the same.

Missed.

Tried again.

This time, it went in.

“That’s bad manners,” Misaki said.

Dolly looked at me, then at Misaki, her expression confused but happy.
“You always walk to the bin when you throw something away.”

“Of course I do!” Misaki scoffed.

Then she continued, crossing her arms.
“Listen up, okay? Girls your age throwing trash across the room is really crass. You shouldn’t do it anymore. You might not care now, but boys judge you on every little thing, so you should learn a little grace while you can—”

“So you can’t make that throw,” Dolly interrupted, completely straight-faced.

“…Excuse me?” Misaki snapped. “EXCUSE ME? You think I couldn’t make the basket?! That would be a piece of cake for me!!”

I burst out laughing.

Misaki shot me a glare sharp enough to make me straighten up immediately, struggling to hold it in.

“Just you watch!”

She finished the remaining water in her bottle and made what might have been the worst throw in the entirety of both my lives.

“You’re so bad at this,” Dolly and I said together, delighted.

“You’re just lucky,” Misaki scoffed.

She took a step closer.

Missed.

Another step.

Missed again.

And another.

And another.

She only succeeded when she was standing right next to the bin, scowling in triumph while Dolly and I laughed so hard we had to clutch our sides.

Then—

Dolly swayed.

“Dolly?” I said.

She collapsed.

We were at her side instantly.

I had forgotten this happened right after Misaki’s throws in the original. I’d been having fun for the first time in so long that it completely slipped my mind.

“Dolly—hey, stay with me!” Misaki said.

Researchers rushed in, their expressions grim.

“We expected this to happen soon, but…” one of them muttered.

They laid Dolly on the bed, machines humming softly as they stabilized her.

When she stirred, her eyes went to me first.

“Mirai,” she whispered.

“I’m here,” I said quickly, taking her hand.

Then she looked at Misaki.

“…Mi-chan.”

Misaki swallowed hard.

“…What’s your real name?” Dolly asked suddenly.

The question hit like a dropped plate.

Misaki froze.

I felt the pressure spike—sharp, instinctive.

Then stop.

“It’s Misaki,” she said, her voice shaking, on the verge of tears.
“Shokuhou Misaki.”

Dolly smiled with what little strength she had left.

She squeezed my hand weakly.

“Th-thank you so much… for being… my friends,” she murmured. “Both of you.”

She was taken away soon after.

Misaki didn’t follow.

She just stood there, trembling.

I stayed.

Later, when the room was empty, Misaki spoke without looking at me.

“…Don’t leave,” she said quietly.

“I won’t,” I answered.

She nodded once.

And in that moment, I understood.

This wasn’t about control.

It never had been.

It was about not being alone.

But the world wasn’t kind enough to let us be.

The researchers came back and grabbed me by the arm. One of them looked at Misaki and said,
“Now that we’re done here, she’ll be coming back with us, like we promised.”

“No… please, not her too…” Misaki said, her voice breaking as she looked at me desperately.

I knew she’d be okay without me. The best thing I could do—to avoid putting her in even more danger—was stay calm.

“Misaki,” I said. It was the first time I’d used her real name. Before, I’d always said Mi-chan, so I wouldn’t expose her.
“It’s going to be okay.”

Using everything we’d practiced together while playing with Dolly, I reached out—directly into her mind.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll escape later.

I smiled, hoping she’d do what she did in the original. Run. Survive.

Normally, this kind of communication would’ve been impossible.

But our minds were connected—like walkie-talkies tuned to the same frequency.

She looked surprised.

Then she nodded, looking a little steadier.

The researcher started dragging me away. He was much stronger than me in this body. If I were my old self, I could’ve overwhelmed him easily—I’d been stronger than the average japanese man back then.

Now, I felt helpless.

It was the first time I was truly scared.

Still, I managed to look back at Misaki and smile.

“See you.”