I do not own Negima or any of the characters involved in the story.

This story mainly follows the story as told by the anime. It follows a "what if Chao Lingshen hadn't given Negi the Casseopeia after Asuna's death." Because the anime did not do as great a job in the telling of the story as the manga, you may notice a few points in the anime story that have been changed.

This is my first attempt at a fan fic, comment please.

A lone figure walks the early morning halls of Mahora Academy silently listening to the excited voices of the young students mid-lesson. It was hard to believe that anyone could be cheerful after the endless amount of tears and cries of sorrow following the events of the previous week. The middle-aged man ran a hand through his carefully groomed hair silently reminding himself of the foolishness in believing the world would stop because of a single tragedy. Despite his personal feelings and almost overwhelming sadness, the man had not shed a single tear. The students, the teachers, Mahora needed good 'ole Death Specs to remain a pillar of strength and hope in the face of this tragedy.

The man finally came to a stop in front of a class marked as 2-A. He could hear the cheery sounds of the students inside along with the usual energetic voice of the child teacher. This class and its residents held many joyful memories for him, however he could not bring himself to smile. He knew that under the cheerful façade, time had frozen for 2-A. The hearts of many of the students had begun to cope and heal. He was not worried about them, they would be fine in time. The man was well aware of the child teachers tragic past and his never-ending search for his long lost father. He had always admired the boy for his strength and courage. Unfortunately he felt it was different this time, he did not believe the boy would be able to persevere so easily. The man knew how much the child cared for her. He knew they were very close, even if she would never admit it. He also knew that the child had not shed a single tear for his friend, not in public at least. He knew the child refused to return to his room and instead opted to cry himself to sleep in the world tree that overlooked the school. He knew all this and yet he understood that there was absolutely nothing he could do to comfort the child's heart.

The loss of innocence at such a young age is very tragic.

Knock knock

The man slides the door to the classroom open, "Yo Negi-kun."

"Oh, Takamichi! Good morning. How can I help you?" asks the child enthusiastically.

Takahata motions towards the hallway, "Can I speak with you for a second?"

"Sure." Negi places his textbook onto his desk. "Asu- I mean Sakurazaki-san, please read the next passage." Negi quickly steps outside trying very hard to look away from the worried stares of his students. It was not the first time he had made that same mistake.

Takahata slides the door to the classroom shut, staring quietly at Negi for what seemed like an eternity.

Negi looks down at his shoes trying to avoid his colleague's piercing gaze of worry. "Di..did you need something Takamichi?"

"Negi-kun why haven't you taken any time off to recover from Asuna-san's death?"

The child flinches at the mention of his former student's name. He begins to nervously look around the hallway continuing to avoid the ubiquitous glare he knew was fixed on him. "B…be…because my students need me." Negi felt as though he would laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of his excuse. If he did not believe his own defense he knew the "Almighty Takahata-Sensei" would never buy it. He could hear Takahata continue to lecture, but none of it mattered. All he could do was wonder when it was he had begun to feel as though everything around him, everything he once valued, his goals, his hopes, his dreams had become so pointless.

You're weak

Negi's head began to frantically search the hallway for the location of the voice.

"Negi-kun?"

You're weak

Negi's movements begin to appear much more clumsy and erratic.

"Negi-kun…Negi-kun!" Takahata places a firm grasp onto the child's weary shoulders, finally regaining his attention. "Negi-kun what's wrong with you? Everyone is worried. If you refuse to help yourself, at least let your friends help you!"

She died because you're weak Negi Springfield

Enraged and confused, Negi clenches his teeth and hardens his grip on his ever-present magic staff.

Takahata suddenly notices the change in the feeling of the small hallway. The anger, the pure unbridled hate burned at his skin and made his body feel heavy.

"Rastel…" the boy mutters under his breath.

Takahata takes a step back quickly sliding his right hand into his pocket.

The boy meets Takahata's glare with eyes devoid of anything but the deepest sorrow. "Maskil…" he continues.

Before either of them could make another move, the door of the nearly forgotten classroom slides open. Yue Ayase quickly rushes out of the classroom, "Excuse me Negi-sensei! I had to go to the…" The young girl's voice trails off as she notices the awkward position of the two teachers. "Is…everything ok sensei?"

"It's nothing! It's nothing!" Negi responds while nervously laughing.

Yue hesitates for a second wondering whether she should look into the questionable situation any further. She quickly decides against it remembering why she had left the class in the first place. The young girl bows excusing herself before once again running toward her destination.

Negi breathes a sigh of relief as Yue turns the corner. "Excuse me Takamichi, my class is waiting for me." The boy turns towards the door of his class, stopping for a moment to regain his composure.

Takahata had been through much in his time with the Thousand Master. He had faced many villains and witnessed many horrors but nothing he had ever encountered could give him the strength to comfort this frail child. He watches helplessly as Negi quickly scurries into his room and disappears into the commotion of his students. He relaxes his stance and pulls his hand from his pocket noticing for the first time that his hand had been trembling. Slowly making his way towards the headmaster's office, he half wonders whether or not he should report on everything that happened. The man, conscious of his age for the first time in a while, lets out a heavy sigh and comments out loud to nobody in particular, "I hope those kids can cheer him up before it's too late."

The loss of innocence at such a young age is very tragic indeed.