Hello guys... This is my new fic... Since a lot of people messaged me, asking me to make a story about the married life of Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto, I made it... So here it is...

Have you ever wondered why Misaka Tabikake knows Aleister? So, this story should be able to tell everything... So please read and review!

Prologue: The Christmas of Grief

The bond between family is what that supports us, and even though we don't know how strong the bond is, we always stand in front of every nemesis that intends to break the said bond, protecting it with all our lives. Nonetheless, it's said that the bond between family can be described with a story, a simple yet touching story... here it is...

In the year 1534, six noblemen who were blessed with wisdom and burned with passion to spread the words of gospel met in Montmarte outside Paris, in a crypt beneath the church of Saint Denis. They were Ignatius of Loyola, Francisco Xaverius from Navarre, Alfonso Salmeron, Diego Laínez, Nicolás Bobadilla from Spain, Peter Faber from Savoy, and Simão Rodrigues from Portugal. Dipped beneath the mild temperature of summer, they joined their hands of sanctity, forming a new society that was meant to protect the Roman Catholic Church, the Society of Jesus or Jesuits. They made a vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and also vowed to convert the Muslims in Middle-East (and failed miserably). Despite the differences in background, they ventured forth until they were approved by Pope Paul III, ordained at Venice by Bishop of Arbe. It was when they were imbued with the Holy Spirit, and the word 'missionary' was first used.

The Jesuits was the smartest psychics, the most honorable teachers, the finest magicians, and essentially, the most valiant missionaries. They strived to break through all the barriers of cultures and backgrounds, considering everyone in the world as the "Children of Light". Their skulls were nothing but the words of God and the impassioned spirit to spread those words of joy was implanted in their hearts. They were nocturnal and diurnal, a group of people who was never bored of shouting the joy that they found inside Jesus, channeling every pleasure they discovered beside His Golden Throne.

In the field of magic, the aforementioned Ignatius wrote one of the most powerful grimoires in the world that time, Del Cielo y del Infierno, or "The Heaven and Hell". It was said that this grimoire held the magic of eternity, the magic that was blessed by purgatory and spoken in the language of angel. Ignatius of Loyola knew the knowledge in the said grimoire and the hostility that would thrive in the hand of evil-doers. After some moments of self-contemplating, he decided to give the grimoire to his closest comrade, Francisco Xaverius.

Francisco Xaverius was the real knight of Christianity, as his intention and yearning toward Jesus was said to have been greater than even St. Paul's. He sailed forth, to the land of unknown in the East with nothing but faith in his heart. Bible and Del Cielo y del Infierno were his main two shields, and his tongue of holiness was his only sword. He succeeded in converting more people than what St. Paul did, as his sense of charisma was too luminous and indisputable. In one of his visits to Malacca, another faithful meeting occurred. Francisco Xaverius ran into a Japanese fugitive whose name was Anjiro.

And that was, the beginning of a story, a story that showed nothing but the misfortune of our favorite hero, Kamijou Touma.

(He didn't mind though, because it was all for the sake of his loved one, Kamijou Mikoto.)

Hark the herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled"
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
"Christ is born in Bethlehem"
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Kamijou Mikoto stared blankly at the chocolate cake on her lap and then glared severely at her husband. Her brown orbs of eternity were glued and sunk in the endless sea of melody and harmony; the other party's members were not the exception. For a minute, she forgot that she should be annoyed that her husband supposed to be singing the song that she requested other than chanting a descant that she was bored of listening. Nevertheless, he was so immersed in the said song as though it was something that could melt her heart, and she was actually astonished by the sonority of his voice. Really, he could say that he had nothing but 'Imagine Breaker', but at least she acknowledged another talent that was buried in the emotionless face of his.

(…and another superiority that she adored.)

Their only daughter, Kamijou Mizuki, was watching the whole concert in front of her in delight. Beside her mother, she could be considered another clone of Last Order (with longer hair) even though those black eyes of hers would just shatter the vague similarity. The chocolate brown of delicacy on her lap was forgotten and the attention given to his father was undivided. Truly, she was amazed to the very core, just like the other audiences, and tomorrow, there could be another praise (and maybe plea) that the said kid could request to her father.

"Papa is great!" Mizuki said cheerfully, and Mikoto chuckled slightly at the simplicity of her words. She was always the practical one, blurting every straight answers and truths that her eyes saw, something that the Railgun would always cherish regarding her daughter's childhood.

"Yeah, your daughter is right, onee-sama," a voice behind her created enough distraction as Shirai Kuroko began speaking. Oh yeah, the seven years of harsh life and some electric massages were much adequate for the said teleporter to become sane. Her dirty mind about the Railgun was clearly erased and she had gone straight, so much distinct than the Kuroko that Mikoto used to know. Her relentless feat and achievement in every Judgement's tasks were what giving her the title "Captain of Judgement". "I think everybody here is surprised, right guys?"

"Oh yeah," Ruiko Saten responded as she joined the conversation. The fan of skirt-flipping was now standing a little bit taller than Mikoto, with long silky black hair and the eyes of determination never left her. The sleepless nights of studying made her able to exhibit esper power now, a level 3 aerohand whose ability made Uiharu Kazari couldn't wear any skirt again anymore. "Too bad Uiharu couldn't join due to the Judgement's work."

The melody stopped as Kamijou Touma left his stage and approached Mikoto nonchalantly. He sat beside her. "Wew… My mouth is dry. Mikoto, pass me a glass of water," Touma asked.

Mikoto pouted and the expression of confusion began forming on his visage. He laboriously tried to dig up the meaning of those annoyed expression on her face until his own daughter cheerfully stated the key words.

"Papa, use the magic word!"


"Please, Mikoto…"

"And that's the magic word," Mikoto rose to her feet and walked silently with a smile graced upon her lips. She entered the kitchen and just when her shadow was completely invisible, another voice took his attention.

"Wew, your wife is very careful in choosing words, even though you used to describe her as a brat before you fell in love," Hamazura Shiage said in the shade of Christmas lights which were hung beautifully on the wall. His wife, Takitsubo Rikuo was silently observing the Christmas tree beside her, completely fascinated by the magnificence of those colorful glowing bulbs as they flaunted their glory in front of her eyes.

"Oh yeah, I'd say that's because she wants Mizuki to imitate the good sides of hers," he responded almost too spontaneously as he stroke the little head of his daughter. Hamazura replied with a smirk and began speaking again. "Well, as long as she doesn't talk to Accelerator too much, she won't end up like him…"

"Oy, Just fuck off, you Hamazura," Accelerator maliciously said from the sofa that he sat on from the first time he joined the party. Last Order was soundly asleep on his lap. Really, after seven years of life, Last Order didn't seem to grow, and the said fact made Touma remembered of a certain pink-haired teacher. Ah well, maybe that was also what Accelerator wanted, because it was her loli-body of hers that drew the interest of the strongest esper of Academy city. The spiky haired guy wondered what kind of children would come from the strange union. He shuddered slightly because of his own imagination.

"Action speaks louder than words," Hamazura said. Kuroko and Saten nodded in approval.

"I'm going to check onee-sama for a while, you're coming, Saten? Maybe Misaki-san and Shizuri-san also need some help in preparing the roasted turkey," Kuroko said as she left the potency of fray. Saten nodded happily to her savior and jogged to the kitchen.

"Do you have any audacity to repeat your words, Hamazura?" Accelerator said in a sinister manner, and the familiar aura of exasperation and anger began emanating from his body, something that rose perplexity in the spiky haired guy's mind for the fact that Last Order could still sleep in spite of the harrowing aura. At least he knew that he wouldn't do any harm though, as long as Last Order was deep in slumber on his lap.

"What if I say yes?"

"You fu-…"

And just around the time Shirai Kuroko and Ruiko Saten left the family room, Accelerator started spouting each words of profanity as though what Hamazura said had gashed his warrior's pride. Kamijou Touma, being a good father just like he would always be, protected his daughter with the only thing that he could do: he covered Mizuki's ears tightly.

"Ah… this Christmas tree is splendid," Takitsubo muttered, currently unaffected by the chaos.

"Hey, have you ever used the knife? Why do you use it that way? It's the wrong side, oy!"

"Misaki-san… This is sugar, not salt…"

"Aaaahhh I dropped the chopped vegetables!"

"This is the fifth eggs you wasted. Why can't you do it properly?"

"Just. Shut. Up."

Shirai Kuroko and Ruiko Saten couldn't even close their mouths. In front of them was another… messy kitchen… or maybe the remaining of it… as they should call it. The sauces and ingredients were sprawled everywhere, and the kitchen was also covered in white dust of flour… although preparing a roasted turkey shouldn't need any flour (or maybe another secret receipt that the teleporter and aerohand won't dare tasting). Kamijou Mikoto, Shokuhou Misaki, and Mugino Shizuri, despite the superior power that they had, didn't seem to know what they were doing, and poor Kinuhata Saia was the victim of their confusion. The sleeping figure of Sogiita Gunha was no help at all, as he snored despite the frenetic atmosphere at one side of the kitchen. The turkey seemed… untouched, and they were not so surprised that the floor was charred slightly, here and there.

(At least Kuroko knew why Mikoto didn't come back to pass her husband a glass of water… Maybe she was taunted by the other level 5th or whatever…)

"Well… Saten-san I wonder whether we are the only sane group around here," Kuroko whispered, inaudible for the trio to hear… Well, let's consider she didn't want to risk her neck for opposing the three levels 5th who could twist one's arm easily.

"Essentially, they seem to have reached… What should I call? Oh yeah, stalemate of century. Maybe ojou-sama's life is far different than what I imagine… This is pathetic," Ruiko face palmed, sighing in desperation and her mind was slightly filled with hideous thought about the 'roasted' turkey that they would prepare if she didn't lend a hand. She still wanted to stay alive after all… or this would be the last Christmas for her.

"Shokuhou!" the Meltdowner called with an exasperated visage, a knife in her hand and Saten was slightly afraid that there would be flying knives and forks. Mugino Shizuri glared at the Mental Out as if it was the only thing that could vent her anger, and pointed directly at the sleeping Sogiita Gunha. "Wake your boyfriend up or I will assassinate him in his sleep. Now!"

Misaki blushed slightly at the words, shaking her head in a useless attempt to erase that crimson hue on her cheeks. Nevertheless, still, she appeared to be happy to the very core for the spontaneous assumption, sighing in order to calm herself down, and began replying the denial that she had done… sporadically, at least, or perhaps, in the present only. "He isn't my boyfriend, and… WAKE UP YOU INDIFFERENT BASTARD!"

She smacked his head… hard, and all the audiences were kind of worried of his state after the hit. For normal person, that beating could cost something, maybe amnesia, hemorrhage or other diseases, but Sogiita was a level 5th, after all. He woke up and massaged his head to ease the pain while Misaki scolded him for being a jerk and some curses were thrown. On the other side, Mikoto chuckled at the yet-to-be couple's antique, and she was slightly reminded of her past.

(She shook her head frantically.)

"Mikoto!" the spiky haired guy, just after he succeeded to escape from the torment of profanity, entered another scene of chaos with Mizuki as their arrivals were replied with nothing but soft glares from the women inside (except Misaki who still scolded Sogiita… yet another profanity for the youngest member of Kamijou's family). He cleared his throat to soften the atmosphere and began talking. "A phone call from your mom! Ask her when she would come!" he said, handing the hazel haired woman the cell phone.

"Oh yeah, thanks… Just a minute," she took the phone and walked to one side of kitchen with less noise. For an instance, all clamors in the kitchen were nothing but tender murmurs and whispers, as all thought and attention were given to the hazel haired woman only…

…and she dropped the phone.

The tingling sound of falling cell phone, so low and final, was the signal. The time and space that surrounded the hazel haired woman appeared to have stopped, as the entire colorful perimeter turned into monochromatic gloom. She trailed off; her firm body failed to support her as she dropped to her knees. It didn't need more than a second for the spiky haired guy to know that something was wrong as he shouted for her name as though the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse were standing vigilantly in front of her. He approached her, looking at his wife face to face in concern, and what he saw was nothing but a fragile porcelain angel.

"Mikoto! What happened!"


What the spiky haired guy's twin of eternity spotted was nothing but the vacancy of emotion, as though she had been thrown to the land where children never smiled and the sky was never blue. The whimsical smile that invariably graced upon her lip was nothing but agape mouth, and her bright-yellowish skin was now paler, as though the breath of life had forsaken her. But still, in the moment of solemn, a word escaped her tongue, spoken with such void and Kamijou Touma thought in grief: this must be news of sorrow at its finest.

"Papa…" Mikoto whispered, and the porcelain angel shattered into nothingness.