赤色のミエル!

Sekishoku no Miel!

I do not own Konjiki no Gash! Or Konjiki no Gash Bell! Or Zatch Bell! They belong to Makoto Raiku, Shuukan Shounen Sunday, Shougakukan, VIZ Media, Touei Animation, and Cartoon Network.

Zero is property of Rahkshi500.

Level 1: ミドリとミエル

Level 1: Midori and Miel

As she ran through the empty streets, her footsteps resounding loudly in the night air, Miel realized just how impossible it appeared to actually find her partner. There were many humans and only one of her; any one of them could be the one she was looking for. She couldn't understand how the majority of Devils were able to locate their partners so quickly. Was it luck? Destiny? Hopefully it was destiny—otherwise she would never find her partner at this rate.

It had been three days since she arrived, three whole days she had gone without food and with very little rest. Food and rest were much harder to come by in this land if you didn't have money. Luckily for her, Miel was one of the hardier ones, and wasn't too bothered by the lack of luxuries.

I sure hope the bitches that picked on me are tired and starving right now, she thought with some bitter satisfaction. That'll teach them for being all prissy and mean. Now if only I can find my partner and defeat them…

Ding ding ding!

Midori Hachiya groaned, and after a few seconds of fumbling managed to shut off her alarm. She rose out of her futon, stretched luxuriously, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Another day of teaching, she thought, simultaneously proud and weary of her profession.

Midori headed for her bathroom, turned on the water, showered, got dressed in her favorite green outfit, and prepared her breakfast, a single slice of toast. As it was warming up she went to her mirror to put on her make-up and comb her hair. She looked at her reflection and sighed before she started putting on her lipstick, cruelly reminded by the image looking back at her that she was twenty-six years old and still unmarried. Is that what you call responsible? She thought. Face it—you're an expired Christmas cake, and in a few years you'll be expired toshikoshi soba.

Twenty-six-year-old or not though, Midori was a very attractive woman with thick long black hair, a sweet round face, kindly brown eyes, a slender figure, and pleasantly wide hips.

And then there were her breasts. They were larger, rounder, and fuller than any other woman's Midori knew of. Not even the sexy models on television seems to have breasts equal to hers. Her friends joked that when she walked she started earthquakes, and people, especially men, would stare at her as she walked down the street. Her friends said she was lucky to be so well endowed. They didn't know what they were talking about. Midori, in fact, didn't like the attention her breasts gave her. It was extremely embarrassing to get on to a crowded subway and having to feel her breasts squish against some stranger. Even worse was when unseen hands would rub against her bosom and she was helpless to do anything because the groper could have been anyone on the train. Some people just refused to take her seriously, lustful men staring shamelessly at her chest even while talking to her and contemptuous women treating her like she was some brainless whore. Then there was the fact that her breasts were so very heavy and by the end of each day her back and shoulders ached terribly. It was difficult finding brassieres that fit, and their sheer size made typing on her keyboard a problem. They stuck out enough that sometimes she would knock things over when turning around, so she had to be very careful when she went to the local department store. All in all, having such large breasts was more of a curse than a blessing, and if Midori could have any wish, it would be for a reduction in breast size.

She was finishing straightening her hair with a comb when she heard to toaster go off. Midori quickly ate it, grabbed her lunch from the refrigerator, and headed out the door to the school she taught at, Mochinoki High.

I hope I'm not late today, she thought worriedly, remembering how embarrassed she was the last time that happened.

Midori's fears proved groundless. She arrived at Mochinoki High at an acceptable time, and she hurried over to her first period classroom. She taught English, warmly but firmly in order to give her students a profound respect for learning. She couldn't be too hard or too soft, and made sure to remind her students that even if school was profoundly difficult at times it was vitally important and that life was often the same way.

She came through the door to first period, and was greeted by an unusually talkative classroom. The students were all clustered around a small girl wearing what looked like a gothic lolita-style dress and talking loudly. Another little kid? Midori thought, bemused. It sure is popular to bring children into class now.

"My goodness!" Midori exclaimed. "What's going on here?" The class quieted down, and she moved to put her heavy textbooks on her desk. "You're all very active today."

Ken Bak, a tall, thin Korean-Japanese boy, stood up. "It's my fault, Miss Hachiya," he said in a sheepish, regretful tone of voice. "My little sister wanted to come with me to school."

Bak was one of Midori's more unusual students. He was highly intelligent, well-behaved, and grasped language amazingly well, even going so far as to write entire short stories in English as extra credit. But he was also very troubled and intensely paranoid, sometimes confiding in her that he couldn't trust any of the other students, that they whispered bad things behind his back and hated him because they envied him. Midori wasn't sure about that, but what she was sure about that someone must have been giving him a hard time about his Korean ancestry. She liked Ken a lot and regarded him as one of the best students she ever had, but she also sensed a great deal of hatred and rage boiling below his cold exterior, and that worried her.

The little girl glanced briefly at Bak's face, and then broke away from the throng of students, walking right up to Midori. She saw that Bak's sister was startlingly pale, her skin looking closer to ivory than flesh, and her eyes were violet, an eye color Midori had never seen before. She looked about seven or eight-years old, but her eyes were eerily too knowing for a child her age. It was like she had no innocence at all in spite of the girlish ribbons and bows that adorned her black dress and short black hair. Midori had seen some girl into gothic loli dressed as if they wanted to look like china dolls, but this girl went beyond anything she had seen before.

The girl smiled broadly and bowed low before Midori. "Bonjour Mademoiselle Hachiya," she spoke in perfect French, right down to the exact accent. "Je m'appelle Foncé."

The students buzzed with praise at this. Midori blinked, surprised by the skill of such a young girl. "Oh my!" she said. "You're a very bright little girl!"

"My dear big brother taught me," the girl, Foncé, said, shooting a quick look at Bak.

"Really now!" Midori said. Smiling, she turned to Ken and said, "That's amazing!"

Bak blushed and looked away, swallowing nervously. "…Thank you," he replied after a time, his voice trembling slightly. Midori felt bad for him then, but she had to put her foot down. Class needed to begin now.

"But amazing or not, I can't allow her to remain in class," she said, her tone hardening. "I can't have my students bringing their siblings into class like this." She glanced toward an American-born student, Rahkshi Hundred, and then took Foncé's delicate, gloved hand.

"Come on, young lady," she said soothingly to Foncé. "You can stay in the nurse's office with Mr. Hundred's little friend." She opened the door, and the two walked out of the classroom and into the hall. The nurse's office wasn't far, so they arrived quickly.

A few days ago, a little boy named Zero showed up at the school. Hundred claimed responsibility, and because Zero insisted on returning to Mochinoki High so he could stay close to Hundred he was allowed to stay in nurse's office until Hundred got out of school. Midori found herself hoping that Foncé would start doing the same since Zero was a precocious boy, and he probably got very bored and lonely without any children in his age group to play with in the nurse's office. He would like having some company.

"There's a little boy in here, so you two can play together," Midori said cheerfully. She opened the door for Foncé and said, "Maybe you can teach him some French."

"Alright, Miss Hachiya," Foncé replied politely.

Midori smiled. "Did Ken tell you my name?"

"Yes he did. You're his favorite teacher."

Midori blushed and grew warm inside hearing that. It was obvious that he liked her and her class a lot, but his favorite?

"How sweet," Midori said. "I never knew he felt like that! Well, have fun!"

She turned to walk back to class. "I will," she heard Foncé say back.

What a peculiar child, she thought. Foncé seemed very polite and intelligent far beyond her years, but Midori just couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right with her.

Miel sighed and leaned against the brick wall. The sun was beating down, so she had sought refuge in the shade of an alleyway, trying to conserve her energy. She had been trying for hours, but no one was able to read her book. It was getting discouraging.

"How are other Devils able to do this so easily?" she wondered aloud.

Just then a boy changed past her alley, followed by another boy, both moving too quick for her to get a good look at. Miel didn't know who they were, but seeing them suddenly filled her with a new resolve. She picked up her book and peeked out, spotting a woman walking her way.

Will you be able to read it? she asked herself.

The hours went by, and finally school let out. Normally Midori would stay for a few hours after to prepare for the next day, but she decided to prepare at home. She was tired and didn't feel like spending the rest of her Saturday at Mochinoki High. Besides, there would be plenty of time on Sunday.

Midori briefly noticed Rahkshi dash past her, Zero in hot pursuit. I wonder if he got along with Foncé, she thought.

She was passing by a restaurant when a young girl suddenly charged out from an alleyway beside the restaurant, startling a soft cry out of her and making her step back a little. "You really startled me, young lady!" Midori scolded. She scowled a bit, but then took a closer look at the girl. She was stocky and tough looking, perhaps twelve or thirteen-years old, but she was also dirty and needed a bath. For clothes she wore a tattered red jersey and a pair of faded blue jeans, a covering her short black hair was a beat-up red cap. In her hands was a large hardback chestnut-colored book. The girl looked weary, but there was also a very determined look in her brown eyes.

"Hey," asked the dirty tomboy-looking girl, "can you take a look at this book?"

Midori gasped. The girl looked almost like a derelict. "Oh you poor thing! Do you have a home?"

"No," the girl answered dismissively. "Not yet anyway." She held her book out to Midori. "But can you please look at my book? It's really important."

Midori looked at the book, then at the girl, wondering what this was about. "Alright," Midori said as she took the book, "if it'll make you happy. Then I'll see if I can get you a place to stay."

Midori opened the book to way she assumed was the front. The pages were crisp and smooth, as if they had been printed not too long ago. However, the text on the pages were completely foreign to Midori. The blue characters didn't resemble any script she knew. She flipped through the book to the very first pages when her eyes caught a line of symbols that were red in color. As she looked at them she realized that the meaning of that line was "The first spell: Musruku". She blinked and told herself that it was a trick of her imagination, but she looked again. Somehow that single line made sense to her, it's meaning as clear as if it had been written in normal Japanese.

Then, just when it couldn't get any stranger, the red line of text began to glow a faint red. Midori was transfixed, unable to pry her eyes away. What's going on here?

"Can you read it?" the girl asked hopefully.

"Yes…" Midori answered as if in a trance, the red glow reflecting off of her glasses.

The girl's eyes widened with disbelief, then she let out a whoop of joy and pumped her arm in a victory stance. "All right! Looks like I've found my new home!"

Midori blinked. "Home?"

"Yeah!" the girl said. "My name's Miel, and you're my partner! I'll be staying with you from now on!"

To be continued...

Author's notes: Midori calls herself a Christmas cake because in Japan Christmas cake is considered undisirable after 25 December, and tradtionally women over twenty-five were considered undesirable as marrage partners. Recently however the age at marrage has increased to thirty-one. A meal called toshikoshi soba is eaten on 31 December, hence the reason why Midori worries that she will become "expired toshikoshi soba".