Well hello people who read but don't review. Yes im talking to the 70 plus people who read this and said, "blah" and left. Well you might not like it and go ahead and flame me. No seriously flame me. Why do you ask. Becuase i know that after you keep flamming it, chapter after chapter, you will eventually like it. Or maybe some part of you already has since you've kept reading it even after you flame it. Well anywho, thank you to the 2 people who actually reviewed. Thank you very much and hopefully you enjoy this one. Mostly dialouge but it will pick up, i promise. Also Do you want to see the fights or not? and who are your fav pairings. As you will see im already establishing the first pairing but it doesn't necessarily mean that it will stay that way. Oh and tell me if you actually know who it is. One line should definetly give it away. Well i got ot go, hope you enjoy!!! Oh and i dont own Negima or anything related to it. So dont sue!!!
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A slow tone of notes hit, resonating throughout the club, bringing to life the ageless men. Negi rose in attention like the rest of them, his eyes and hopes going wide as the music toned again.
"Alright, gents." Came a voice over the intercom system, trying but unable to drown out the growing beat of the music. "You came here to see her, so here she is. Give it up for Miss Sweet N. Sour!"
The hoops and hollers that filled the air made Negi even sicker, but they were an after-thought to him. He stared ahead at the stage as the curtains parted just a few feet, but it was enough.
His jaw dropped.
She had long red hair down to her waist, tied in two very loose ponytails; Bells strapped to each one. Dressed in what looked like a thick, one-piece bathing suit, she turned towards the audience, the act making clear her firm, sculpted arms and legs as she directed her vision out to the front of the stage, as if directly towards Negi and Chamo.
"Told ya." Chamo said, glancing over at Negi, smiling at the look on his face. But Negi didn't hear him. Truth be told, he was barely aware of Chamo at all.
The woman on top of the stage took her first step, her cadence matching the growing music vibrantly as she stalked her way proudly towards the end of the stage, her body held ready and strong. Negi's eyes blinked in the heavy, smoky air, staring in disbelief. The woman seemed to stare right back at him, and then smiled. She turned away, her figure becoming more obvious.
Negi had trouble swallowing.
The girl turned around completely to grab hold of the metal pole that was in the center of the stage. She swung around it, her head hung low so her hair swung out past her outstretched hand, brushing the faces of the patrons who got too close to the edge of the stage. As the red braid swept over one man's face, Negi found himself getting more captured. He pulled himself back from the dance performance and back from the song, to stare up at the beauty that had grabbed his attention.
The sultry dancer moved with a jaguar's precision, her movements active and energized, but all incredibly enticing and almost playful. She didn't bother with some type of theme like the previous dancer; she simply danced to the music.
A hand.
Negi looked two seats down as an older businessman reached up past the dance floor's border, his hand flared greedily out. And as the dancer stepped back from the side of the stage that she had enticed dramatically, the business man almost grabbed a hold of the back of her swimsuit, reaching to pull the lower end off.
"Take it off!" He shouted, getting hollers of support from around the stage.
Negi was up before he was prepared for it, stepping past the two tables between him and the old man, grabbing the offending hand. He pushed the hand back, prepared for the right hand to come swinging around to punch him right in the face, and ducked under it delivering a blow of his own.
For being a middle-aged businessman, the guy could take a punch, and took another strike from Negi to the chin. The middle-aged man was knocked off his feet as he crashed down onto the table behind him. The cheap wooden legs gave way and Negi was treated to the sight of the table breaking underneath the man.
Negi landed on top only to look down as he mounted on top of the businessman, pinning his shoulders and arms to the ground. The middle-aged man looked up with a dazed, confused look to see the circle of heads gathering over the middle-aged man who had been pinned by the college student.
Pain racked the left side of his face.
Negi's world was bland; red and whites filling his vision. He rolled his head back around to see the same circle of faces, the same as older man under him. But through the vision that seemed displaced and unreal, he could see the girl on the dance floor staring down through the crowd of faces, a worried and horrified expression on her face. But still, even with the worried gaze on her face, she still stared with the same coy half-smile, the same enigmatic expression on her face.
But as Negi looked, he saw in painfully slow motion as the businessman's hand corrupted his view of her. He turned to the man as his arm cocked back again. Negi felt nothing as he looked down. There was no anger or embarrassment, just a vague feeling of numbness that always accompanied him when he fought.
As the Negi's hand came rushing down, Chamo reached and grabbed his right arm before his fist could contact with the man's face. Negi pushed the Chamo back with his left arm, the act causing the two to fall back with Chamo still holding his arm. The crowd around the fight surged with the sudden shift in the situation, keeping a tight rein on the events.
Negi ended up on Chamo, holding him down by his shoulders. But as the writer looked again into the older man's eyes, he saw fear and embarrassment and resentment and jealous and . . . and . . . distance?
The bouncers held Negi in the air, giving him a clear view of the ceiling. But off to once corner of his vision, he could see the dancer, still once again watching with her strange womanly mix of concern and amusement.
The next thing Negi felt was feeling the broadside of his body slamming down onto the hard floor of the club.
Negi got up quickly as he dusted himself off and looked up to see the giant form of the bouncer standing over him, arms relaxed but with an angry look on his face.
"My name's Takamichi." The bouncer said with a deep voice as hard as the unforgiving pavement that Negi landed on. "I'm the head of security at this establishment. Now, as you may have noticed, we have some decidedly rousing music that we play." He shifted, folding his heavy, muscular arms over his thick chest almost twice as wide as Negi's. "In addition to that feature to our fine establishment, we also offer only the highest quality of entertainment."
Negi stumbled out a nod as the sights and sounds began to sink in again.
"Now, such excellent entertainment and such stirring music inspire so many people to come to our fine establishment. But they can get a bit out of control." He gestured to himself with a trite smile. "That's where I come in. And as I am the head of security for this fine establishment, you must understand that I simply can not allow anyone to disrupt our reputable and esteemed dancers and musicians." Takamichi leaned in close, staring into Negi's determined eyes. "Do I make myself clear?"
Negi nodded as he replied with a, "Yes sir," and turned around to leave.
"Excellent." Takamichi said, sitting up straight. He smiled a big, toothy smile. "I'm glad to see we understand each other."
"Good job, Springfield." Came a familiar voice. Negi rolled his head around to see Chamo standing behind him, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I'm guessing this was your first time at a strip club?"
"You know, I'd really like to thank you for this." Negi said, helping himself up to his feet. "This was all really quite special."
"Hey, come on." Chamo grinned. "Now you can say you've been to a strip club."
"Yeah, and almost getting carted off to jail." Negi protested, getting to his feet.
"Hey. Maybe that's a new story for you." Chamo said, turning as he arrived at his car. He pulled the driver's door open and smiled at Negi. "Come on, man. Let's get some lunch."
"I'll pass, thanks." Negi said with an overly polite grin. He dropped the sarcastic façade and looked away. He breathed out some frustration and embarrassment and just turned back to Chamo. "Look, man. I'll meet you on Thursday at the gym."
"Negi, don't be a dick. Get in." Chamo said, sighing in exasperation.
"Look, I've had a bad enough day already and it's not even noon." He argued. "I'm not in the mood to go out, I got to work out, get ready for tonight's fight, and I don't have the money for it anyway."
"I'll pay." Chamo offered.
"Look, screw it." Negi said, stepping back from the car. "Go. I'm not going to be good company, so just go and I'll see you on Thursday."
Chamo loitered for a moment, and then just shook his head. "Man, it was one fight." He grumbled disappointedly, sliding into his car. The thick eighties sports machine roared to life as Negi stepped back. With an unnecessary squeal of the tires, the large, spray-painted red car rolled off into the lazy mid-week traffic.
Negi watched the car roar off, then turned away, an annoyed look on his face. It was only by luck that he glanced back at the club, to see Sweet and sour standing at the employee's entrance, staring so enigmatically right at him.
Negi was nearly blue in the face when he realized he needed to breath. With an explosive gasp, he stepped forward onto the small road that lead away from the club, as the woman stood on the second step of the employee entrance on the side of the building. Dressed in a black trench coat that was pulled tight, she had a small black bag swung over her left shoulder as she seemed to wait just for Negi.
The slow steps across the parking lot of the club were murderous, but before Negi took another breath, he found himself before the steps of the club and before the piercing gaze of the dancer as she smiled so politely at him.
Negi stopped right before her, the distance of two steps between them. 'This is it'. He thought. 'I've got to say something intrepid and quick-witted, something not quite romantic, but not too light. I've got to say something as captivating as her eyes. That's it, her eyes. I've got to say something really charming about her eyes and about how they…"
"Hi." He whispered.
'Idiot! That was supposed to be captivating and intrepid? And where was the part about her eyes?'
"Hi." She answered with the same smile. "I'm Sweet N. sour." She said, holding out her hand. Negi looked down at her delicate, but strong hand, the idea of shaking it taking a minute. Finally, though, he mustered up the manual coordination to take her hand and shake it. "Not much of a talker, are you." She laughed, as he still held her hand.
Inside Negi's head, his heart melted. 'What a gorgeous laugh!' He thought. 'This woman is stunning. Why the hell's she working here?'
"Why do you work here?" He asked.
'Way to go. Real sensitive, you dope.'
"I like it." She answered with a smile, unbothered by the question. "It's good money, I know the staff, and I get to keep all the costumes." Negi blinked at her. "That was a joke." She clarified.
"Oh. Okay." He got out. Another awkward moment passed as she stood on the step, staring expectantly at her. Finally, he stepped back, shaking his head. He took a quick moment, then looked up again at the woman. "Sorry. I'm just out of it. Low blood sugar and all that."
"I see." She said with the same capturing smile. "And you are?"
"Sorry." Negi laughed as he blushed in embarrassment. "I'm Negi, Negi Springfield."
"I would have remembered seeing you, Negi." Sweet smiled. "What brought you here today? At this hour?"
"The all-you-can-eat cheesecake." He answered quickly with something close to a laugh. "No, a friend brought me."
A knowing smile crept across Sweet's face as she nodded slowly. "Sure. It's always a friend."
"No, really." Negi defended. "My friend wanted me to come to hear the 'music'."
"Ah ha." Sweet nodded, swinging her hair so that it hung over her left shoulder. "And you came to 'hear' the 'music'?"
Mark groaned. He took a step to the side to lean against the brick wall that formed the side of the building. "I know it looks bad, but that's not really why I came here."
"I see." Sweet smiled. "Well, why did you come here? What were looking for?"
"Nothing, but…" he paused as he looked at her, "I found something I never would have imagined."
"Would that have been a drunken fight with a regular customer who's threatening to sue you and the club I work for?"
"That's one of them, yes." Negi laughed nervously. "And look, I'm sorry about disrupting your dance and all that. I really am. But he was trying to grab your . . ."
"I saw, Negi." She smiled. "And thanks. But you made Takamichi work. And he doesn't like working."
"Hey, if I could have avoided making him mad at me and throwing me out, I would have, but I didn't even know he was there and I saw Doctor Roadkill for hair reaching for you." He smiled sincerely. "Sorry for messing everything up."
"Thanks just the same." Sweet smiled. She looked around in the parking lot as a warm afternoon wind came up from the highway, brushing her hair back behind her back. Negi stared up at her, watching the wind, captivated again.
Sweet looked down to him, seeing his subtle smile, it's power infectious. "What?" She asked with a short laugh.
"You." Negi said, sighing sadly. "You're absolutely beautiful."
The coy, constant smile that Negi had been so captured by faded for a moment. The woman before him on the steps of the club looked down at him with a troubled glance, but then she smiled again. "Where's your friend?" She asked with a soft voice.
"He left." Negi said. "Probably for the best. Lord knows what trouble he might have gotten me into."
"Oh, you seem quite capable of getting yourself into trouble." Sweet countered.
"Not exactly. Trouble just seems to find me." Negi parried.
"So," She asked after a moment, her smile less secure than it was a moment a go. "If he left you, then how are you getting home?"
"I'm not heading home" He answered, leaning up from the white-painted brick wall. "I've got a fight tonight. Fighting being my only means of finance I have to show."
"I guess you do." She laughed. "So you're a fighter and poor." Sweet summed up with the sultry expression he had seen on the dance floor. "So, does this mean that you're not any good?"
"Maybe." Negi shrugged. "But I prefer to think that I just haven't found the right ass to kiss."
"But if you're good, shouldn't you be successful, at least marginally?"
"No." Negi said casually, shaking his head. "Talent and skill have little to do with success in this world." He looked back at the club, then stepped towards the woman, putting his hand disarmingly on the railing of the steps. "Um, do you guys hire?"
"Looking for a job?" She asked, one eyebrow rising.
"Yeah." Negi said. "I mean, the Security in there's terrible." Negi tried to joke, but the woman across from him just continued to smile that coy little gaze. "Look, I'd make a good bouncer, I've got something that can be mistaken for a glare and I know how to handle a crowd."
"A few minutes ago, you were having trouble stringing together more than three words." Sweet pointed out.
"Yeah, well, that was the first time I got to see your eyes this close." Negi smiled sincerely. "You really do have lovely eyes."
"I see." Sweet smiled. Negi blinked at her, taken back by her disinterest in his comment. She looked out again, considering the parking lot. She turned back to Negi, her smile's strength renewed. "So, do you fight nearby?"
"Just a few miles down the road." Negi answered, stepping back from her. "I suppose I could walk, if I felt up to it."
"Have you had any lunch?" She asked.
"Not recently." Negi answered, getting a puzzled look on his face. Her questions suddenly worried him just a bit.
Sweet looked back at the club, then back to Negi. "Well, you know, I'm off for the day. We could go grab a bite to eat before your fight, if you'd like?"
Negi's heart melted. "I, I really wish I could." He answered, looking down at the parking lot pavement in utter embarrassment. "But I can't."
"Oh? Why not?" Sweet asked. Negi looked up at her, unsure if she was taunting him, or genuinely concerned.
He laughed, disregarding the thought. "Because I have to get ready for the fight that starts in a few hours."
"Wow." She said, a sincere, concerned expression on her face. Negi couldn't tell which gaze he liked more. But in a flash, it recovered and she was smiling coyly, knowingly again. "Well, since you look like the type that likes to be on time, let me at least take you there."
Bright lights flashed over the ring as the fighters swayed in the large cage. The population of the audience of the fight club screamed, booed, oohed to the fight, keeping the crowd in a frenzy.
In the locker room, known as the 'Den', in the floor over the fighting cage, Mark stood before the mirror, piles of scars pulled out and cluttering his body. He wiped the heavy sweat from his brow as he stood over the dull white sink, trying to focus in the heat.
The fighting cage was a circular world, with no entrances, and two opponents that faced each other. A circular level went around the room where the seats and tables were filled, while three progressively smaller levels rose up, until the final level was almost on par with the locker room.
He looked to his left, grabbing his gloves and his trunks. Mark no longer bothered scanning the locker for things he needed. He automatically knew where it was.
He slid the glove over his hand, then turned to the mirror, setting up his stance. He grabbed the almost-empty bottle of water and finished it off before he threw a couple of jabs, getting ready for his upcoming match.
As the crowd died down, the t.v. feed brought into play the winner of the match. He sighed as the fusion of music and cheers passed through the walls, the change maintaining the intensity inside of him. He turned and began to swing around for the next set he had chosen for today's "Kata". There was a knock and he turned around, pulling his hood off his head. Behind him, the door opened up and a small, Vietnamese guy hoped into the booth, nodding to Negi. The fighter hit the locker door to close the red light locker, grabbed his water bottle and started towards the stairs at the back of the locker room.
"Here's the new fight list." The backstage manager said, holding a clipboard to Negi. Negi glanced at the board pushed into his hands and nodded. He would be fighting Kotaro tonight. He handed it back and thumbed the door handle. "Everything's ready. Just watch the crowd. It's more jumpy than usual tonight." The manager reported. With that, Negi nodded and headed down the stairs.
The sweat-stained fighter slumped down into the metal seat, the sweat on his face and in his hair making him cold almost immediately. He leaned back, taking a moment to relax his mind before the fight.
"Springfield."
Negi sighed resiliently and looked up as a man in a black hoodie sweater sat down. He wore a dark blue trunks with a colored white trim that mismatched his black sweater. "How you doing?" He asked, sitting down in the chair next to Negi.
"Pretty good." Negi said, swallowing another gulp of water from the refilled bottle. "You know how it is."
Kotaro looked back at Negi. "I understand, man. I really do. Good luck on your fight."
"Thanks." Negi said, sitting back, holding the bottle of ice water to his forehead.
"How's the writing business treating you?" Kotaro asked. "I heard you and Chamo had a bit of a spat today."
"Chamo has no grasp of what it's like to be poor." Negi said. "He wanted me to shell out fourteen dollars to go to that dance club downtown, the one that's a strip club in the afternoons. He thought it would give me more experience for writing stories."
"Nobody said Chamo was bright." Kotaro smiled. "But the boy is . . . enthusiastic, though."
"I don't know." Negi said rhetorically, leaning forward. "I've got to do something. I dropped out of college to pursue life, but all I seem to be doing is hanging in there. I don't feel like I'm moving towards anything."
"It's because you've got no goals, Negi." Kotaro said without reservation, looking around towards the crowd as he considered every small detail of what he saw.
"Sure I do." Negi protested. "I want to write a best seller. I want to be recognized as a major writer. I want to contribute to literature in general."
"I want, I want, I want." Kotaro retorted, looking back at Negi. "Well, you've got that covered. What's next?" The darkly dressed fighter leaned forward, leaning close to his friend. "If all you want is to want, then you've already accomplished every goal in your life. But if you want to achieve, then you've got to set out to do that."
"How?" Negi asked.
"I don't know." Kotaro shrugged, sitting back. "I'm not in the writing industry. I wish I was, believe me. I'd love to make millions of dollars a year. Right now, I'm lucky to eek out what I do with this place and my occasional side project."
"So I guess there's no chance for me, huh?" Negi laughed.
"I don't know." Kotaro said directly. "But I could be talked into giving you a no-interest, long-term loan."
"While I might be enticed to take you up on that," Negi laughed. "I don't know if I'd be good for it."
"Oh, I know you'd be good for it." Kotaro said with a grin. "Whether or not you had the money's something else. But I'm not at the point of starvation yet. If you need some dough, I can spot you."
"Springfield, you're up!" came from the corridor leading to the cage. Negi stood up and began heading to the ring. He stopped and turned around at Kotaro. "Thanks for the talk and the offer but… no." Negi looked at Kotaro with a stern confident gaze, "We still on for practice tomorrow?"
Kotaro nodded and smiled as Negi turned and made his entrance to the cheering crowd.
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Well... it will get better... i promise, stop with the tomato throwing!!!!!! Well anyway what do you guys think, Who else deserves a shot at Negi? What other pairings to you guys see? and do you think i should write the fight scene? well anyways hope for more than just 2 reviews, please? k bye till next time!!
