Disclaimer:

Love Hina and Mahou Sensei Negima is the creative property of Ken Akamatsu, who created this wonderful anime/manga series. Shingetsugan Tsukihime and Fate/stay night is the creative property of TYPE-MOON. Anything not attributed to Akamatsu-san or TYPE-MOON belongs to their respective owners, such as references to Cowboy Bebop (the Swordfish II) that is a creation of Sunrise and Shinichiro Watanabe, BLEACH is a creation of Kubo Tite, and vice-versa. This story is written purely just for fun, guys; please for God's sake, don't sue me! I'm just a high school student with too much free time on his hands! On the other hand, any specific author created characters I created for this fic (despite how unoriginal they may be at times) are mine. So without further adieu, let's get on with the show!

The Surgeon General's Warning:

Read at your own risk. Multiple pairings inside folks, with KanaxKei and KanaxNegi, just to name a few! You never know what you're going to get so read on (I might even do some alternative stuff, if you know what I mean).

Blue Blue Glass Moon, Under the Crimson Air

I Wanna Go To A Place...

Chapter 02:

With You

A Love Magister Hina Negima! fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards

"Kanako? I'm coming in, okay?" Keitaro called out loudly, his voice muffled from behind the door.

Today was his dear sister's first day at Mahora Academy, probably the most prestigious private school in the entire Tokyo prefecture. As far back as local historians could dredge up the annals of history, Mahora Academy had always stood as institution for education well before the advent of the twentieth century. Mahora Academy was something of a Tokyo University in its own league and was notoriously well known for its excruciating scrutiny and grueling examination process, only the best and brightest (or the most privileged) ever got the chance to attend its vast campus as students. Those who attended were said to be set for life with virtually guaranteed spots at not only the top universities in Japan, but all over the world as well.

Thus, it was to no great surprise when the letter from Mahora Academy's Admission Offices arrived one day, which was signed and written by the school's Headmaster himself, in the mail. Arguably, she would joining late in the school year, but the school was still offering an all expenses paid scholarship to one, Kanako Urashima, in recognition of her astounding potential and her many achievements. She would not have to pay a single dime to attend with the only conditions being that she attend Mahora Academy for the full extent of her remaining junior high career and continue to perform to the best of her abilities. It was a swell enough deal, and after much cajoling and negotiating, the family managed to convince her to go.

A child prodigy, a genius she was, but that didn't make Kanako any more of a morning person than the average person. So one, Urashima Keitaro, was charged with the monumental task of awakening "The Princess (of Darkness)," a task that few relished, but to him was as normal as any other day. He was her big brother, after all, and he'd been through the worse a million times over.

Lo and behold, did the bespectacled young man open the proverbial door to Pandora's Box, which was cutely labeled with a cat-themed sign that read "Neko-Kanako's Room." He admitted himself through the threshold and closed the door shut gently, as to not awaken his sister rudely with a loud bang. The raven-haired girl absolutely hated it when people were rude.

Allowing his eyes a moment to adjust in the dim orange light of the distant dawn that filtered in through her curtained windows, Keitaro gave her room a once over. Kanako had gone through her "boy crazy" phase a long while ago, and her bedroom was noticeably lacking of the things somebody would see in a typical 14-year-old teenager's room. Having mellowed out quickly, she had opted on other interests resulting in a rather eclectic combination.

She had an elegant wall scroll featuring elegant calligraphy that she had done herself, and several posters ranging from famous sports stars to her favorite anime Mugen Champloo, lining her walls alongside hand-drawn and painted portraits. The portraits, in particular, were of Kanako, which drew a proud smile from the elder Urashima, as he had done them all personally. He might not have been an extraordinarily successful scholar, but Keitaro was a man of the arts through and through.

There was a dresser, a closet, a desk with an easy reclining chair and his sister's powerful personal computer that he helped put together. He had also made sure she had gotten an equally powerful desk lamp and an accompanying lamp for her nightstand beside her bed. Yes, Kanako slept in a bed, and he had seen to that personally as well. No luxury was too out of the way for his little sister; though Keitaro had to admit she was blossoming into a fine young woman without a doubt.

Last was her bookshelves, and boy, were they something else altogether. She had them all, books of all shapes and sizes, and many books; there were all alphabetized from calculus, advanced physics, chemistry, biology, world literature, philosophy, sociology, psychology, to cram study books for Tokyo University. There was enough knowledge here to overwhelm the average teenager easily, but thanks to his influence, he had seen to it that she do "normal" things too. She had model kits, some gun-pala, some fan-made doujinshi she had bought from the annual Comic Party convention, a personal MP3 player, several CDs, and of course, some video games. Shoot, she even had some medals for athletic achievements, not mention a mean pair consisting of a baseball bat and a catcher's mitt.

She adored baseball.

For all intents and purposes, Kanako had been raised to have a life as normal as possible. She had even been encouraged to take up photography among her many other private hobbies. There were many photos on her bookshelves, some with the whole family when they could get together for a big old bash, some with the many sights and places she had been to, and of course, there were the pictures with him. Keitaro had helped her take these photographs of the two of them too, and they carried memories all the way from her childhood.

However, he could help but note with some sadness that in all of her pictures, Kanako was with the Urashima family, was with him, or she was alone all together.

Why is it that she's always alone, when she's not with us --- or me? Keitaro pondered worriedly to himself as he crossed the room to her bedside. His beloved little sister was a constant working in progress for him, teetering often on the knife-edge of sanity and the surreal.

He noted with some bemusement of the Liddo-kun alarm clock she still kept on her nightstand, which he had given to her as a birthday present quite some years ago. It held a coveted place alongside a particularly intriguing personal photo: Keitaro Urashima, age 10, and Kanako Urashima, age 6, both dressed in their yukata to celebrate Hina Matsuri, or was it Hanami? So many things happened that spring that often he found it difficult to remember when events had happened exactly. All he could manage was a beginning and an end, which had changed his life forever.

They were so very happy then. He had held her in his arms, like a knight to the rescue of the princess, one arm hooked under her legs while the other snaked under her back to support her weight. Kanako was absolutely ecstatic with one arm draped around his neck and her free hand flashing the "V for Victory"-pose as she gave an adorable wink at the camera; both them laughing joyfully together.

Eight years had passed since then, an apparent lifetime to Keitaro, even though it felt only like yesterday in his heart. With time and experience, he had come to understand certain hard realities about his little sister. I know Kana-chan mistrusts other people and doesn't hold a high opinion of them either. She's met some good people too, but I guess --- they were just too simple-minded for her. Her expectations are definitely far out there somewhere, and nobody outside our family has ever lived up to them. That's also probably why she's always alone; that's why she's had no friends in eight years.

The dark brown-haired young man sighed inwardly. I just hope Mahora Academy will make a difference, that things will be different this time. There has to be someone there that she can spend time with too; somebody who can live up to her expectations, so that Kana-chan won't have to be alone anymore, when I can't be there for her.

There was a soft feminine purr in the air, a most curious occurrence as the last time Keitaro checked --- they didn't own any cats. He noted also that Kanako's bed was in a rather odd state of affairs with a rather large lump gathered in the center underneath the blankets, where the purring appeared to emanate. Intrigued, he stepped forth and gently peeled the blankets off, with the barest whisper of a rustle, only to be completely dumbstruck in an instant.

She was curled up, like a raven-haired kitten, around her pillow on the rumpled bed sheets. Dressed in her favorite pajamas, which were white with black kittens dozing off, her disheveled appearance most certainly struck a chord. All Kanako was missing was a fluffy black tail and cat ears to complete the all too adorable "Neko-tan" image. The power of which sent Keitaro reeling back into a pose, manly tears flowing from his eyes like waterfalls. He held his quivering fist into the air, his face glowing with pride beyond belief.

Moe. MOE! Gai-san, I did it! the bespectacled young man cheered himself on, a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors shimmering behind him. There's no doubt it my mind. MOE! She's just SO CUTE! My own imouto. It's like neko-mimi mode, but even better! Kana-chan is the very picture of the Springtime of YOUTH! That's it; I have to start filming this right away.

From out of nowhere, Keitaro whipped out his trusty digital video camera (which could also take spiffy high-resolution snapshots too), pirouetted about like a ballerina, and...

"Unghh... Nii-san?"

Ka-chik.

Awkward silence ensued between the two siblings: one who was bleary-eyed and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, as she hugged her pillow close to her body. The other was stunned stock still, his slack-jawed face paling visibly by the second. "Ah...Kanako-chan --- you're awake. Uh, what do you know, you know! AH-hahahhaha! What a SURPRISE, huh?"

"Keitaro-niisan --- what are you doing in my room?"

"Oh, ME? Well, uh, I-I, um, kinda remember you asking... Y-Yeah! Today's your first day of classes at Mahora Academy, remember? You asked me to-"

"And what're you doing with that video camera, which is still filming if I should add?"

"OH this? Well, ah-HAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOTHING REALLY, honest! AH-HA! HA-hahahahahaha!"

This was bad. This was very bad! The great Space Neko Monster Kanako has at last awakened from her long slumber, spelling doom for all of humanity on the beautiful blue Earth. The Urashima Defense Force is in big trouble this time because she's spotted the Urashima Reconnaissance team, and Kanako does not like cameras! Oh no, she's using her "Evil-Evil-Nyah-Nyah" Glare (TM), could this mean the end for the Urashima Recon team? Who will survive?

"Were you using me as a model again for Gai-san's assignments?"

"Wha? O-Of course not! I was just, uh, just..." Keitaro trailed off helplessly, his complexion paling several shades more than what was considered healthy.

His Urashima Senses (TM) were blasting artillery pieces all across the battle line at the impending doom that was about to befall him from the Space Neko Kaiju Kanako, who had a most "Evil-Evil-Nyah-Nyah!" (TM) glint in her hazel eyes. Her ever-persistent cowlick was gradually powering up to its full height, and soon, doom would rain from the skies in the form of irresistibly adorable kittens going "Evil-Evil-Unyaa!" (TM). This was bad. This was very bad for the Urashima Defense Force!

"Kukukuku. I know where you keep your ecchi bishoujo dating-sim games, Keitaro-onii-chan."

"What! How did you figure out I kept them underneath my ero-doujinshi by the Spiegel poster!"

"You're so obvious; Nii-san's such a stupid boy to think he could hide anything from me."

"HEEE! KANAKO!"

"You know how much I like to play with you." She winked and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Gah! I can't believe this; my own imouto is the Devil!"

The cunning raven-haired girl laughed insidiously, and in a sudden blur of motion, she lunged forwards and grabbed him. Vertigo: the bizarre sensation being turned inside out and upside down, gripped Keitaro before he even realized, lifting him off the wooden floor. The sound of his digital video camera punctuated the moody air. He should have hardly been surprised when he found himself face-to-face with Kanako in a rather --- compromising --- position upon the disarrayed bed.

She leaned in close to the side of his face, her left hand blessing soft caresses across his hotly blushing cheeks, while she whispered words for his ears only, "Su-ke-be."

"K-K-Kanako!" Keitaro stuttered in a panic, as he squirmed under their immediate closeness. He could feel it, that unnatural pressure building in his nose! "C-Cut-Cut it out!"

"Shhhh, quiet. This will be quick, Nii-san."

"U-Uwah! B-But, uh-"

"I promise I'll let you go, but only after you listen to what I have to say, okay?"

"O-Okay, just --- uh --- stop doing that thing you're doing to my face, uh..."

"Shhhh, listen; this is for your ears only."

The bespectacled young man gulped audibly.

"I'd model for you anytime, Kei-ta-ro­-hentai; whatever you want: swimsuits, school uniforms, cosplay..."

A pitched yelp pierced the air, accompanied by a geyser of blood from a monstrous nosebleed, as Keitaro promptly passed out from sudden blood loss. The world went blue and then black.

"Oh, that was so much fun! Nii-san, you're the best," Kanako laughed energetically in high spirits. Gone was her earlier disheveled state and its place was a proper seifuku that marked her as a student of Mahora Academy, all in the span of breakfast and an invigorating shower.

The taller Urashima sighed helplessly at his own lot as he stood dutifully at Shinjuku Station early that morning beside his younger sister. They lived together in Nakano-ku or Nakano City, one of the twenty-three special wards that comprised Tokyo, which was primarily a residential area for all intents and purposes. It was fortunate that the Shinjuku rail line was conveniently nearby because it was going to be at least an hour long ride by train to get to Mahora City in the far west side of Tokyo.

He scuffed his soled feet idly against the pavement, sending some distant birds scattering in the distance in a loud flutter of feathers. "I'm glad you're happy, Kana-chan, but do you really have to use me for practice? You know how bad I am around --- you know."

"But, Onii-san! You should be immune to that sort of thing coming from me, remember?"

"Kanako-chan, you know the only people who don't get to me is okaa-san and Hina-obaachan. Anything beyond a handshake usually --- aggravates it."

"Now look here, we've been through this for the umpteenth time already. You're allergic to close physical contact with intent from females, Urashima Keitaro, and when your allergy gets irritated, your blood production skyrockets, resulting in a spectacular nosebleed!"

"Hey, don't shout it out loud like that!"

"You're just too much fun, Kei-oniichan."

She gave him a playful jab on the arm, earning a hapless groan from the young man. "Kana-chan, could you maybe at least give me a break until tomorrow? I really don't get this training you keep insisting on-"

"But it helps doesn't it?"

"Well --- I suppose so." He scratched the back of his head in retrospect. "Back when it started, I couldn't even shake a girl's hand, much less get within ten meters of her without --- you know."

"See, see, it does work! All we have to do now is get over this last setback and you might actually be able to go out on a date some day."

Keitaro shuddered at the thought, his complexion and clothes literally paling into a pasty white in an instant. "A --- A date? You're kidding."

"There is a method to the madness of my genius, o-nii-chan!" Kanako declared proudly with a smug smile as yellow lighting flashed in the black background behind her.

"Geez, this on top of trying for Tokyo U for the second time, huh?"

"Eh, but with you around, I'm sure we'll make it this time."

"Right, Kana-cha..." Keitaro drifted off and was suddenly struck silent by the cold atmosphere he felt, sending frigid chills in his blood. With all pretenses set aside, he turned swiftly to meet his sister's side and was quite frankly surprised.

Still facing outwards towards the tracks, she stood impassively, her head hung low so that her bangs would hide her gaze. However, there was no mistaking the disruptions in the hazy air surrounding her, caused by the emanations of chakra rolling off her body in red waves. The drop in temperature was but a side effect of her awesome innate bloodline limit, a white mist of freezing air joining the cool frost that began to spread across the concrete pavement.

"Kanako, what's wrong?"

"Do you hate me, Onii-chan?"

"What? That's crazy talk; why would I ever hate you?"

"One month; you haven't said a word in one month."

His glasses began to fog up, breaths expelled in big white puffs. It was good thing he wore a jacket today, after all, as he mentally cursed himself for his own insensitivity. Why didn't he see this coming? Kanako had helped him study a lot for the Tokyo University entrance exams. She was the resident genius in the family no less, so what better way than to focus her talents into helping her dutiful big brother get into the best university in the country?

Well, he had failed and the ramifications for that failure seemed to have completely slipped his mind. For days on end he had disappeared from the house, leaving his younger sister in the care of his parents at their quiet residence in Edogawa-ku. Keitaro had gone off on his own private sojourn for a little soul searching without really saying word to anybody, just a "I need to go out for a while." That was that and it was admittedly selfish of him. He was so wrapped up in his own failure that he could not be bothered to see the people around him who had been hurt too. Right now, he was paying quite spectacularly for that bout of immaturity.

Dammit! I'm such an idiot, especially after everything we've been through together, thought Keitaro bitterly as he rushed to his sister's side, throwing all caution to the wind, and embraced her. Our promises!

Kanako shouted in alarm, shocked by his brash actions, "Nii-san! What are you-"

"Gomen ne, Kanako-chan, I've been a real selfish idiot, haven't I? Making you worry and everything..."

"Keitaro, let go of me! You're freezing up!"

Literally, this was quite true because glittering frost rapidly crept up the ronin's limbs, clumps of ice began to cling to his hair and glasses as his complexion paled into a sickly blue. "Y-Yeah, I know. B-But, I won't let go until you've calmed down; I'm n-n-not going to lose you, not after what we promised together."

"Please, onii-chan! Let go! You're dying! I promise, I'm still me; I'm not going away. I'm here! I'm still here!"

Keitaro gave a weak laugh, the ghost of a smile upon his blue lips as his glasses cracked. His legs and limbs shuddered violently on the verge of buckling. "T-That's my --- imouto. Y-You g-get an hundred...honesty..."

The spectacles shattered and darkness enveloped him in an instant, a world turning inside out and then black. He remembered vaguely a voice crying out for his name, but right after that was the feeling of smacking into something --- hard, like rock. After that, Keitaro Urashima heard no more, saw no more, and was completely gone.

I really need to stop passing out so much...

To Be Continued...