Disclaimer: No money made here, so no sense suing.
A/N: UQ Holder is a stealth sequel of Negima! This is my take on the mission of the organisation and a play on the question of the big question of a certain someone's gender.
From the time magic was revealed, people with magical abilities were viewed in suspicion mixed with fear that they might take over the world. To quell such unrest and level the field, there were magical apps being created to augment non-magical people's abilities. But ever since magic apps were released into the open market, there were certain changes brought to the non-magical world (I think the word used in the brief was "muggle world"): From favourable welcome to conservative protests, this new technology had split the two groups apart, These apps are simple, harmless spells are approved and regulated by the International Ministry of Magic Affairs in case of muggles getting overly enthusiastic of their new abilities.
But new markets means new business and the business of warfare was always open for new products and clients; simple supply and demand. In this case, there was a demand for destructive magic and someone was intending to supply it. That someone was rumoured to be the type of person that the mighty IMMA was unable to handle whereas our organisation specialises in: an immortal.
And of course, the best way to suppress an immortal is another immortal. Better yet, if the funding is right, a whole group of immortals.
The accused was a billionaire known to organise grand charity balls which, upon closer scrutiny, were suspicious for being fronts for money laundering. However, there was a lack of evidence for a full scale persecution and therefore the need to look deeper into the rumoured creation of apps raising the need for this operation.
The mansion was beautiful, the guests jovial and gardens perfectly manicured. However, even though one should kickback and be enjoying this wonderful place, that was the last thing on my mind.
Soft, melodious music wafted from the ballroom. It was Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the flowers I believe, but I ignored their soothing notes. Instead, I lightly seethed with irritation that I was picked and partnered on this operation with Him. I protested against it of course, I mean logically speaking; we were inexperienced and were totally unable to carry out the operation. However, the leader of our organisation dismissed my protest with her characteristic smirk and said that it was because we were new, therefore unknown to the target, that we were selected for this role in the operation.
Everyone else had a part to play: coordination, overwatch, cyber hacking, Plan B... And being the new guys, we were tasked the most simple of tasks: direct observation.
"We can't observe him from here, can we?" My partner remarked from behind me. I rolled my eyes. I had left him at the buffet table gorging delicacies, which had attracted attention but everyone was too polite to reproach him for his boorish behaviour. In turn, I had made an effort to distance myself from him.
"He's busy entertaining guests and I had already planted the package. Now we just wait for his move." I turned around to see him with small saucer in one hand, munching on a piece of cake with frosting at the edges of his lips. Sighing, I grabbed a napkin from a high table on the way to him and pressed it into his hand.
"Thanks!" he grinned widely as he wiped his mouth, "So, still upset with the get up?"
He always manages to get a rise out of me, feeling my cheeks heat up. "That's what I don't understand! Why must I wear this?"
"It's to get us into the ball!" He laughed heartily, "the invitation was for couples, we're inconspicuous and you can pull weapons out of nowhere, which reminds me, you haven't taught me that!" he looked me over again, "Besides, that dress does look great on you."
I grumbled under my breath, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. It was a simple black, body hugging spaghetti strap dress which stopped at my thighs for which I was teased as it "showed (my) curves" as what my partner said before dodging my blade.
"Well, don't get so upset...try this, it's delicious!" He popped a small tart into my mouth just as I was about to rebut him. Resisting the urge to cuff him for that, I politely covered my mouth and chewed the tart; tasting the sweet saltiness of the caviar complementing the quiche base with the crème leaving a clean palate...he was right, it was delicious. I swallowed and looked up to chide him but he interrupted me again by wiping my mouth, "A lady must always look her best!"
"Who are you calling a lady?!" I raised my voice indignantly but still careful not to attract unwanted attention while pulling away, hoping he would get the hint to back off.
Unfortunately, I underestimated his cheekiness as he leaned forward "You are," and brushed my left fringe aside to look into my eyes, "and a pretty one at that." Even though I should be used to his teasing by now, I was surprised to feel my heart thumping against my chest. His boldness had left me lost for words and next thing I knew he was pulling me into the ballroom. The thing about him was that he is always moving at his own pace.
"W-What are you doing?"
"Having fun," was his reply as he positioned us onto the dance floor despite my protests but he persisted, "it'll be odd if I'm not dancing with my 'date', won't it?" The orchestra was now playing Johann Strauss II's Wiener Blut. He placed my left hand on his shoulder and clasped my right before placing his right hand on the small of my back. His whispered to me, breath minty even after his earlier food binge, "C'mon."
He took the lead in the dance even with my nervousness and initial resistance, but his firm grip and confidence was reassuring as he counted the beat, "1 2 3, 1 2 3, 1 2 3…Relax, you're a little tense." I resigned to his antics and loosed my body to make it easier for him to guide me on, forming a square with our steps, keeping it simple to get me familiar to the motions before we progressed to join in a counter clockwise rotation with the other dancers. "Now you got it."
Music flowed around us as we moved around the dance floor. Waltz was not so difficult once you get used to the beat and besides the fact that I was being lead. I was still indignant that he forced me into this but I held my tongue as not to kick up a fuss. I opted to start some small talk.
"I didn't know you knew how to dance."
"Just picked it up yesterday."
I exhaled sharply while suppressing a smile, "could have fooled me." There he goes again with his natural ability to make things as it goes. Perhaps that's why he was assigned as the lead while I kept him in focus.
"It's a simple dance," he shrugged, "You're doing pretty well yourself."
"It's a simple dance." I echoed back before stealing a glance at the target whom was still chatting with his guests while holding onto the laced champagne I planted in his hand. Come on, drink more of it. With my focus too far off, I missed a count and stumbled.
"Whoa there," His caught me as I fell forward, my cheek pressed against his. My cheeks reddened not so sure either from embarrassment or our close proximity but I recovered quickly and mumbled an apology. "Don't mention it," he got us into position again, this time closer, perhaps for more control, "Just go with the flow."
This time, I wanted to prove to him that anything he could do, I could do too. I recomposed myself and allowed the music to guide us as we moved in sync with each other. He was clearly intent on having fun when I felt his smile even though we were facing to the sides. His confidence let the way while our steps moved with the tempo as it dipped and finally climaxed to the eventual crescendo end.
There was a short pause before a recognisable violin solo filled the ballroom: Por una Cabeza, popularised by a popular classical movie Scent of a Woman. It was a Tango! Guests who were not up for the dance were leaving the dance floor. I immediately tried pulling away but the arm on my back held me in place, "hold on, just one more dance."
"No." I had humoured him with a waltz and I already have a bone to pick with him for treating me like a girl.
"Come on," his eyes flashed to the other end of the ballroom," besides, it's easier to cut across the floor when he moves." I stole a glance at the target and saw him now observing the dance floor with interest with the flute of champagne in his hand. It was half consumed: that was more than enough nanites to track him.
I looked into his eyes and found him still eager for another dance. I sighed, "Just one."
We got into position again just in time for the main sequence to start and he took the lead again starting with a cross walk. I followed with practised fluidity attributed to my martial arts drilling, quickly adapting to complement his confident movements. 3 steps forward, cross walk back, al costado, sweeps; basic dance steps but by simply following his small cues of squeezes and taps, we were moving with relative ease.
"Come on, I'm sure we can do better than this," at the right musical cue, he spun me away, left hand clasping my right and my momentum brought me away before he pulled me back which had me in his arms. A little surprised that he did that, I mentally added one more item on a list of things to pick with him after this assignment is over.
It is quite a list.
I pushed away to leave in a huff but perhaps that was his plan as he held on tightly and, in a smooth twist, had my arms crossed in front of me and my back on him. I felt more than heard his chuckle and decided to ignore it as we took a few steps forward then with a sweep, I was facing him again.
After an "exhilarating" dance sequence which had him do most of he work, the music finally winded down with a melodious end and I found myself dipped lower than I expected. I look pointedly into his eyes at his boldness but he deflected it with an easy smile, clearly pleased that he got what he wanted. "Target on the move," a phrase muttered into our earpiece. With that, we straightened and went into action.
Time to get to work.
A/N: What do you think of Kuroumaru? Thanks for reading! Please review!