A/N – Welcome to Chapter Four, proof that lack of personal transportation can be a spur to productivity. I'm trying something a little different on the organization of this chapter. Normally I have everything in a sequenced by events, but this time I've arranged it by character view point. For those of you who review, please let me know which you prefer.

Ken Akamatsu owns 'Negima' and its characters, lock, stock and barrel. Neither do I own 'The Talisman' by Stephen King and Peter Straub, though I mention it in the story. Phillip Markham, Sasuki Hiro and Regina Karkolova are of my invention. My thanks to MakuhariFan01 who allows me to bounce ideas off him; your help is greatly appreciated. Thanks also to my fellow Train Station contributors for the constructive comments.

The following conventions are used: "words", 'thoughts', "spells", 'reading' and memories

A Tangled Web

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!" – Walter Scott

Mahora, Japan

Monday morning started like previous Mondays, with the clarion cry of an alarm. Asuna jumped down from the top bunk, careful not to impale herself on Setsuna's nodachi, and slammed her hand down on the offending clock. After quickly dressing, she slipped into the hallway, careful not to disturb her slumbering friends.

In the pre-dawn darkness, her hair bells softly chimed, adding a counter-point to the songbird's trill. As the student walked down the not-quite-deserted streets, Asuna watched the city slowly shrug off sleep and begin a new day. She waved to the patrolmen as they rode by on their bicycles and made her way to the Morning News building.

"Morning Asuna-chan," she was greeted just as she had been since her first day of delivering papers. "Sounds like you had an eventful class trip."

"It was that," the student remarked as she opened up her pouch for the day's stack of newspapers. "So who covered for me while I was gone?"

Before the manager could answer, another voice replied. "Who do you think Asuna-nechan?"

"Kotaro-kun?" she responded.

"Yeah," the boy in the plain, black, school uniform answered. "You covered for me so it was time to return the favor."

"Morning Kotaro-kun," the manager greeted the boy as he handed him another stack.

As the pair walked out of the building, Asuna whispered, "What about your other job?"

In response, the boy pointed to a sweat suit clad figure standing just outside the door. "Good morning Miss Kagurazaki," Mr. Markham said.

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

"I need to get my jogging in and Mr. Murakami needs to deliver papers, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone," the man explained. "Of course it was Negi-san's idea."

"Oh, of course."

"I hope he won't have any problems keeping up," Phillip commented.

"What's he saying?" Kotaro asked her.

"He doesn't think you can keep up," Asuna told him, suppressing a grin.

The hanyo glanced once at the middle-aged man and then set off at a quick trot. "Come on gramps," he called over his shoulder.

"Have a nice run sensei," she said as her teacher loped after the youngster. Watching them round the corner, Asuna failed to notice a dark shape detach itself from the other roof top shadows and follow.

A while later, Asuna entered the classroom and walked over to her desk. The cheerleaders were gathered around the table where Madoka sat; Misa seemed to be trying to talk her roommate into something. 'Probably another one of her wild schemes,' the bell-wearing student thought.

"Come on, you should be the one to ask," the long haired girl insisted but her friend continued to shake her head in refusal.

Making her way to the chair, she had a seat and waited for the rest of the class to arrive. Konoka walked in next, followed immediately by her mininstra. Asuna still didn't know why the Kanto Magic Association had demanded the pactio during the time Konoka filled in while her grandfather dealt with Evangeline's death, but Setsuna had been so much more relaxed since. She could recall times the swordswoman held herself so rigidly, Asuna swore the hanyo's spine crackled.

Yuna came in next, shuffling by with an odd gait. The athlete didn't appear to be tired or in pain, it was more like her leg muscles were refusing to move normally. "Are you okay Yuna-san?" she called out.

"Fine, I'm fine," the ballplayer answered and then mutter something about "taking things one step at a time" underneath her breath.

Finally, Goodman-san opened the door as Nodoka and Yue wheeled in a cart loaded down with several dozen books. As the last students took their seats, the teacher's assistant called the room to attention for Markham-sensei. "Stand," Takane said, then "Bow."

"Good morning class!" Phillip greeted them.

"Good morning Mister Markham!" they responded, followed by Goodman-san's "Be seated."

Sounds of chairs scraping the floor, shins banging against table legs and paper rustling filled the room then subsided. Asuna watched her teacher as he took roll. He had been truly surprised to learn that not one student decided to leave Mahora when offered the chance. To be truthful, she was too. 'We're all idiots,' baka red thought to herself.

After roll, sensei addressed the class. "Due to Golden Week, your papers will be due Friday of next week," he announced to Asuna's relief. But then he had to follow that with "However, I'll expect a four page long paper since you'll have an extra week." That information brought a distinctly unenthusiastic response.

"Also, I've made a change to the order of our readings," he told them, indicating the cart of books. "We have one long novel that I was going to assign for the final term, but I think it's appropriate to cover it now. If the students in the back will come up front and get enough copies to distribute to everyone in their row."

Yue handed her a paperback book thick with pages of small-typed text. 'We're supposed to read all of this?' Asuna wondered as she read the words 'The Talisman' off the cover. 'I won't have time for anything else.'

"Stephen King and Peter Straub are noted primarily for horror fiction," Phillip explained to the class. "But in this novel, the authors forego the standard conventions for the genre and instead create a tale in the mold of an epic quest. The hero, a young boy, sets out from his home to discover a means to save his mother's life. Along the way he discovers that parallel world exists, a world that he and certain others can travel to and from. To complete his quest the hero must unravel the secrets of this new reality, defeat opponents that wish to stop him, and find his place in both worlds."

"Let's turn to chapter one," he began.

"Mr. Markham?"

"Yes Miss Kakizaki?" he replied.

"Since we have a long break coming up," Misa said, "I was wondering if there are any plans for a class activity?"

"Activity?" the teacher asked.

"Well last year we went to an island resort," the cheerleader explained. "The class rep arranged everything for us."

Asuna had to stifle a laugh as she watched Ayaka's face flush. Iincho-san had planned for that to be a quiet, little getaway for her and Negi, only to have half the class show up unannounced. Of course, Asuna was mad at the little brat at the time and wasn't going to go, but Konoka wouldn't take no for an answer. It had nearly turned into a disaster, however, the two had made up by the end.

"That was fun," Fuka said. "Can we do that again?"

Ayaka's "No!" followed swiftly on its heels and several voices were raised in objection.

The former sergeant intervened before the discussion degenerated further. "Class!" he boomed out.

"How does he do that?" Asuna murmured as all eyes focus on the man at the head of the room.

"That sounds like an excellent idea Miss Kakizaki," the teacher said. "You're in change of planning an appropriate activity."

"And it isn't fair to put this all on you," Phillip continued. "Miss Akashi, Miss Rainyday and Miss Hasegawa please give her a hand."

"Plan for something after Sunday," he told them. "I'll be out of town with Springfield-san until then."

Cries of Negi-sensei, -kun and –bozu fell from a dozen pairs of lips as Asuna wished sensei hadn't mentioned Negi's name. The student shuddered as she imagined the rumors that would be out before the end of the day. The class bell finally rang and she was happy to have not been called on to read. After sensei and Goodman-san left the room, Haruna pulled out her cell phone and started clicking buttons at a furious rate.

"What are you doing?" Yue asked her fellow library explorer.

"I'm just telling a few friends about Negi-kun leaving town," the class gossip monger answered.

Asuna stood up. "You're worse than the media at last year's festival," she declared. "Can't you let the kid go anywhere without broadcasting it over the school?"

Konoka got up next. "Asuna's right," she declared. "They're only going because Se-chan asked them."

The classroom was utterly silent save for the thump of Setsuna's head against the desk. Several more phones were pulled from pockets, pouches and packs as the clicking grew louder than the buzzing of cicadas on a summer's day. "Nice going," Asuna whispered to her roommate.

--

The head master stared from underneath those outrageous eyebrows of his as she sat across the desk from him. "Are you still determined to do this?"

Unlike most times in his presence, Evangeline sat with her hands folded demurely in her lap. Instead of her normal, gothic attire, the undead mage wore a conservative skirt and jacket over her plain, white blouse. It seemed strange to be dressed so, but then hardly any of her looked the same these days.

An assassin had been hired by her former employers and would likely have succeeded had not the headmaster been informed of the plot. The old fox had tricked her into switching bodies for the day, ensuring her continued existence. Only a handful of people at Mahora knew the vampire had survived the attempt, and fewer still knew she was posing as the school's newest teacher.

"Not having second thoughts are you?" Evangeline asked.

"Just making sure, hm hm, that you aren't," Konoemon answered. "Being responsible, hee, for 31 young ladies can be a daunting task."

She pushed a pair of tortoise shell spectacles up the bridge of her nose. "Are you saying you don't think I'm capable of it?"

"Not at all," he hastily responded. "But class 1P is, hm, considered most lively."

"Don't worry old man," she assured him. "I'm more than up to the challenge."

"Yeah, right," Evangeline snorted derisively as she stepped into the stairwell of the teacher's dormitory. This morning she had naively assumed that a group of 31 adolescent girls would be easily managed; now she knew better. The students of her homeroom had indeed inherited the mantle of the middle school's "most lively" class from the new teacher's former schoolmates. They weren't to the party-at-the-drop-of-a-hat stage, but they did show promise in matching the efforts of the infamous trickster trio of Kasuga-san and the Narutaki twins.

'No falling erasures for that bunch,' she silently lamented, clutching a pair of ruined high heeled shoes, victims of quick-drying glue spread on floor in front of the blackboard. 'But how do I get the chewing gum out of my hair?'

As she reached the first landing, Evangeline suddenly found herself facing Phillip Markham. The man seemed just as surprised at their chance encounter, but his face showed no sign of recognition. Unconsciously, she pulled the front of her dress straight and addressed him in English. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," he replied. "Oh, you must be the new middle school teacher?"

"Yes, Ishikawa Mareiko," Evangeline answered.

"Phillip Markham," the American responded. "Would you like a tissue?" he asked, noting the black smudges of eye liner on her face.

'Why do you have to see me like this?' the mage mentally cursed. "No thank you," she said aloud while reaching into her handbag.

"I have some right here," Evangeline explained then dropped the bag with a shriek.

"What's wrong Ishikawa-san?" the man asked.

"Some…something moved inside." They watched as a garden snake slithered out of the purse.

The irony of the moment was not lost on Evangeline. Called the "Mage Nosferatu" and "The Queen of Woe," she was feared by inhabitants of two worlds, but 31 little girls had reduced her to a quivering mass of flesh. She didn't resist when Markham-san offered to help her and soon found herself seated in the small kitchen of the teacher's apartment.

Phillip set a plastic container of a thick, brown paste on the counter and placed a scoopful in his hand. "What is that?" she asked.

"It's peanut butter," the American replied. Evangeline felt his hands start to rub the gooey paste into her hair around one of the pink wads. "The oils in it help to dissolve the adhesive in the gum."

"Would it be safe to say it was a rough first day?" he asked.

The smell of peanuts combined with that of the gum to create a nauseating mixture. "That's a trifle understated but yes." Phillip placed bits of loosened gum on the counter and continued to smear the horrid stuff into her hair.

His next question took her by surprise. "So what's your plan for tomorrow?"

"Well I thought I'd have two or three students lined up against the wall and executed," she offered.

"Too authoritative."

"Uh, put them on detention until graduation?"

"Too much like mom and dad."

Evangeline could feel several stands of hair pulled up and rubbed between his fingers. "What would you suggest then?"

"The first thing to do is establish a rapport with your students," Phillip explained. "You need to get their attention first so that they'll listen to you."

"That sounds easy enough," Evangeline said. "But how do I get their initial attention?"

"I realize that you're at a disadvantage since chemistry is really dull compared to English …"

"Now you're making fun of me."

"No, but I think you can give them a sample of what chemistry is that would grab more attention that reciting Shakespeare."

"All done," Phillip announced to her amazement. Several brown and pink gobs rested on the counter.

"Thank you Markham-san," she said. "I guess I need to make out a new lesson plan."

"My evening is open," he told her, "so I'd be happy to give you hand."

--

Concilium Magnus, Megalo-Messembria

Amber-colored eyes regarded him as the white and orange furred face hardened with resolve. The fox-man stood before the office door with arms folded across his chest. "For the last time," the guard warned, "if you want to talk with Karkolova-sama, you need to make an appointment with her secretary."

Professor Akashi matched the other's resolution. "And I can't wait around for a month," the dark-haired man responded. "I have a message for the Speaker from the head of the Kanto Magic Association."

"I you're on an official visit, then present your credentials to the protocol office."

"I'm on vacation," the professor said yet again. "All I need is 5 minutes of the Speaker's time."

The fox-man made no response save to stare at the human. The door behind him opened and a woman's voice said "Blast these last minute notices."

A woman, her reddish-brown hair falling over the shoulders of her ceremonial, white linen robe, hobbled into view, a cane in her right hand. "Gijou-san," she called, "I need to get to the Council Chamber."

"Right away Karkolova-sama," the guard replied. "Once I deal with this nuisance."

The professor bowed to the woman. "Greetings Speaker Karkolova," he said. "I bear a message from Konoe-sama of Mahora."

"Indeed," she remarked, giving the visitor an appraising glance. "And you are?"

"Akashi Yuji," he answered while straightening back up. "I'm a professor at Mahora University."

Regina Karkolova's face was impassive as she thought over his words. "I would very much like to hear this message Akashi-san," she replied. "But an urgent matter demands my attention right now."

"If you can wait while attend to it," the woman continued, "I'll talk with you afterwards."

"Certainly," Akashi told her.

Sometime later, they sat in the Speaker's office, Akashi sipped from his cup as Regina slowly stirred a lump of sugar into her tea. "I trust your business went well?" he asked politely.

"Well enough," Regina answered. "I haven't seen Konoe-sama since shortly after being appointed to the Council. How is he?"

"He's still as active as ever," the professor answered. "But he is very concerned about recent events in both worlds."

"As am I Akashi-san," the woman replied. "You said you have a message for me?"

"The headmaster wishes you a speedy recovery," the professor responded. "And he wants you to know that he fully backs your efforts to keep the gates open."

"I appreciate the support, but unfortunately that doesn't equate to votes on the Council."

"That is true Karkolova-sama," Akashi remarked. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Go ahead professor."

Akashi removed a fresh cigarette pack from his coat and unwrapped the plastic cover. He tapped the package against two fingers until a cigarette stuck out enough to be removed. "Would you care for one?"

"Don't mind if I do," Regina answered. As he stepped over to her, the woman added, "It's amazing how much better the imported stuff is over the domestic."

"Then please accept this," he said, handing her the pack.

Her hand took hold of the package and immediately it went into a pocket. "I'll save these for later."

"Where are you headed to on your vacation professor?" the Speaker asked.

"I've always wanted to visit Ariadne," Akashi told her. "I thought to take a nice, leisurely cruise on a whaleship."

--

Hiro stood near the hotel's transport balcony, waiting for Ray Blaze to appear. He had met the tiger-man in the hotel's bar the previous day and spent several hours buying drinks for him and several companions. Though the professor balked at the tab, he was impressed by information his assistant had unearthed. So when the assassin casually mentioned he had been invited to the Professional Gladiator Association's convention, Glad-Con, Akashi took the bait.

Not knowing what to expect, Hiro had ditched his normal attire for a pair of dark slacks and a grey sweatshirt with the words Mahora University across the front. Above the other guest's heads, he could see a flash of vivid orange as the crowd parted to let the lethal-looking tiger-man by. Raising a hand in greeting, the gladiator called out to him, "Morning Oishi-san."

"Good morning Blaze-san," he replied as a small, winged figure darted towards him and flitted from one side of his face to the other. It looked like a woman, no taller than the distance between the tips his thumb and forefinger if Hiro stretched them as far apart as possible. A set of filmy wings were in constant motion as she moved about, reminding him of a hummingbird.

"Oishi-san, I'd like you to meet my partner," the gladiator explained. "This is Lim Deis."

"Uh, nice to meet you Deis-san."

The winged fairy made several noises that sounded like the tinkling of bells to Hiro. He thought it must be some form of communication as Ray burst out in laughter. "What did she say Blaze-san?"

"She said there is more to you than your appearance suggests," the tiger-man answered. "And she thinks you're too cute to hide behind such big, ugly glasses."

Too stunned to reply, he just stared as the tiny figure gave him a wink and flew back to her partner, landing upon the gladiator's shoulder. The group stepped out onto the balcony and hailed a passing killer whale. "Take us to the Campus Martius Arena," Ray told the cabby.

As they rose into the air, Hiro glanced behind and noticed a squid with two riders, at a discreet distance. The squid followed them to the convention hall and hovered a few blocks back as the whale deposited its passengers. The young man wondered whether his watchers would venture into the convention or just patiently wait outside.

The Campus Martius was another huge, circular construct, with the main arena surrounded by four, smaller ones. During the major tournaments, matches would be held in all five stadiums with those expecting the biggest draws in the Circus Maximus as the largest arena was known. Banners proudly proclaiming 'Welcome to Glad-Con' hung from every available surface. Most also had the words 'What We Do in Life Echoes in Eternity' directly underneath. Hiro saw the long line of people waiting to get inside and was happy to be avoiding that crowd. "I didn't realize gladiators were so popular."

"Most of us laughed when we heard the idea," Ray admitted. "But after last year's Springfield Cup was interrupted, we were desperate to try anything to promote interest."

"They expect over 200,000 paying customers today, so I guess it was a good idea," his companion continued. "But we're still leery over being called gladiators instead of prize fighters."

"Why is that Blaze-san?" Hiro asked as they entered through the guest's door.

"Up to the last 15 years or so, gladiators were slaves," the tiger-man answered. "They fought, making money for their owners and hoping to one day earn their freedom."

The fighter stopped in front of a booth selling posters and pointed to one of a large man, with several scars running down his arms and across his bare chest. "That's Jacobus Rakan, the greatest gladiator of his time but a slave," his companion told him. "To be a prize fighter means that we are freemen who keep the money our sweat earns. But none of us can deny the hold that the word gladiator has on the public."

"I could be enjoying spring break on an Elysian beach right now," Hiro heard a girl's voice scornfully comment. "But you have to drag us halfway across the world to attend a convention."

Hiro turned to see three teen-aged girls walking towards him. The speaker had long, blonde hair that was tied into two pony tails and a pair of goat-like ears stuck out from underneath. She was accompanied by a girl wearing glasses who had short, blonde hair, and two black, floppy ears with white tips. The third girl had short, black hair and seemed entirely human. All three wore a red velvet cloak over what looked like school uniforms. Each cloak was secured by a clasp resembling outstretched wings.

"Aw come on class rep," the floppy eared girl replied. "Where else can you find all this neat Nagi merchandise?" she asked as she hefted her six bags.

"Almost anywhere," the goat-eared teen replied. "And for a lot less."

"Hey," her companion exclaimed as she jogged over to Hiro's group. "Aren't you Ray Blaze?"

"Here, hold these Emily," she said, passing the bags to the surprised class rep. She pulled out a red, leather covered book and a pen. "Could I please have your autograph Blaze-san?"

With fingers ill-suited to the task, the tiger-man grasped the pen and began to scrawl his name upon a blank sheet of paper. "Is it true that you were the first to lose to Springfield-san last year?"

Hiro could see the black banded end of the fighter's tail curl into a tight ball as it started to switch back and forth but the polite smile remained on his face. "That's right," Ray answered. "He and his partner, Oogami-san, knocked us out of the Minerva Cup in the first round."

"Would you like my partner's autograph?" he asked, nodding to the forest sprite seated on his shoulder.

Hiro grinned as he watched the tiny creature place the pen against her shoulder and write her name in the album. "So are you a student at Mahora?" the dark-haired girl asked him as she read the letters off the front of his sweatshirt.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm a freshman at the university."

"So you aren't a gladiator too?" the autograph seeker asked.

"No, I'm Blaze-san's sycophant," the young man replied.

Her face screwed up in confusion. "What's a sycophant?" she asked, causing Emily to roll her eyes and the dark-haired girl to stifle a giggle.

"C'mon Collet," the class rep said as she started to walk away. "You too Beatrix."

The trio moved on down the hall and Collet squealed, "Ooh, they have Nagi sunglasses over here."

"Collet!" Emily cried and started to chase after the fleeing teen. Beatrix glanced back at Hiro, shrugged her shoulders and hurried to catch up with the other two.

"So that's a fangirl?" Hiro mused aloud.

He heard the sound of softly chiming bells and faced the duo as Ray nodded his head and responded, "I think so too."

"What do you think so too?"

"That dark-haired girl," the tiger-man answered. "Lim-san was just saying that you may have picked up a fan too?"

Hiro glanced back at the three girls now gathered about a vendor's table. 'Let's hope not,' the assassin thought to himself. 'For both of our sakes, it would be best if we never meet again.'

Hiro found the conversations on the convention floor a wealth of information as the gladiators, managers, the media, fans and vendors mingled together. Like people from his world, there was the normal grumbling against over regulation, taxes and red tape; underneath it all seemed to be a deeper current of discontent. He had been briefed on the Great North/South War of a generation ago, and those sectional politics still existed, but another layer had been added atop that. The nations in the east were arguing for a strong, central authority while their western brethren wanted to maintain their traditional independence, to chart their own course as many put it.

It seemed his hosts were fairly popular as the autograph requests kept on throughout the morning. After a few hours of mixing with the crowds as he put it, the tiger-man lead them to a side door with a sign that read 'gladiatores cubile' posted next to it. "This is a longue for the fighters," Ray explained as they walked in. Hiro glanced about the room, noticing several of the fighters he had met in the bar the previous evening as well as a huge figure with reptilian features trying to find a comfortable position on a couch. He had to be a good 2.3 meters tall with a tail nearly that long.

The door behind him opened and someone barged straight into Hiro. "Hey, watch it buster," a belligerent voice told him. "This isn't a parking zone."

Hiro saw that the speaker was a human, slightly taller than himself with dark hair piled up in spikes, resembling nothing so much as a rooster's comb. The stranger was dressed in a pair of baggy pants and a vest, open to reveal his chest. His face had a permanent sneer etched on it. Three other men hovered behind him.

"Sorry," Hiro mumbled.

The stranger gave Hiro the once over and the sneer grew more pronounced. "Can't you read the sign kid?" the man asked. "This room is for gladiators not the public."

"He's with me Tosaka-san," Ray said in a voice that rumbled around the room.

The newcomers pushed past Hiro and confronted the tiger-man. "You may be part of Granicus Fortes this season," Tosaka declared, "But you better not step out of your place or you'll be back in the bush."

Hiro noticed the end of his companion's tail had curled as it began to lash back and forth, a sign he had come to associate with annoyance. "It's okay Blaze-san," the assassin said. "I'll just step out."

"You'll do more than that," Tosaka replied. In an instant, the man stood next to him and swung his fist, striking Hiro on the side of the face. He landed on his seat and could taste the blood that trickled from the side of his mouth. He gazed up at the figure standing over him, the man's mouth stretched wide in a grin. "Don't get smart with me punk," he said then stalked off towards his companions who were busy congratulating their leader.

'Basic technique, but fast,' the assassin thought. 'Fast, like that Kotaro kid.' For a moment, Hiro recalled stepping into the corridor and distracting the guard. The elementary-aged boy seemed to materialize next to the gunman, taking him out with a couple of punches. "Not bad," Hiro remarked, picking himself off the floor. "Feel like giving that another shot?"

All four men laughed in response. "What's your problem college boy?" one of them asked. "You into getting beat up?"

"No, it's just your friend's nowhere near as good as he thinks he is," the assassin answered. "Off course if he'd rather sit in the corner and have you all jerk him off …"

The room grew quiet except for the sounds of people moving away from the immediate area. Tosaka's eyes narrowed as the grin slid off his face. "I was going to take it easy on you, but now I'm going to enjoy tearing your head off."

Hiro replied by moving into a stance.

"Hope your insurance covers the funeral," Tosaka taunted.

"Don't worry," he shot back. "I know all about filing claims."

Hiro glanced down at the floor as Nagase-sensei's words came to him. "The eye is a marvelous tool," the kunoichi said as she fitted the blind fold around his head. "But it can fool you into accepting what it expects to see."

"Those who cannot see are able to navigate through a forest in either day or night," she explained. "Learn to use all of your senses."

"Listen." He heard the scuff of shoes on the carpet. "Feel." A current of suddenly displaced air struck his face and Hiro ducked under his opponent's arm. Without conscious thought, he grabbed the other man's wrist, turned and rose. Tosaka's feet lifted off the ground and a moment later his back slammed across a table top.

Hiro let go of the man's arm and stepped back. Had it been Nagase-sensei, he would be the one groaning right now. "Bastard!" one Tosaka's companions shouted. Before they could avenge their friend, the tiger-man and sprite were in their path.

"Three on one isn't very sporting gentlemen," Ray said with a tone that was calm yet menacing at the same time.

"Stay out of this," one of the three told the tiger-man. "Or you'll be on the street."

The reptile-man loomed behind them. "I think Blaze-san is just suggesting we cool off," the creature remarked in a rasping voice. "All kinds of accidents happen in the heat of the moment."

In the end, a healer was sent for and the assassin made himself scarce. 'Way to keep below the radar,' Hiro thought as he ambled along a corridor. The young man could have, should have, walked away without egging the creep on; it was as if he wanted to push beyond the point he could handle, like back at Mahora.

His Grandfather had trained him for one end, to kill. By hand, by bullet or by explosive didn't matter, just do the job and go on. But that had all changed over a few weeks the previous summer. Although Ayaka had been a big part of it, she wasn't the sole reason for the change. 'What was it that tattooed girl said?' Hiro tried to remember. Zazie had declared that he was bound to those girls. When Kotaro accused him of wanting to be stopped, the boy was only partly right. Hiro wanted that bond broken, yet it seemed stronger than even a four story fall.

Once again, the young man was aware of being followed, this time by one of Tosaka's buddies. A quick check located the other two men circling round like sharks. He ducked into the men's room and finding it otherwise unoccupied, stepped onto one of the stools and pressed against a ceiling tile. It moved confirming that it was a simple drop ceiling. Hiro lifted himself up and waited until he heard the door open. He dropped a small, cylinder-shaped container into the bowl below and fit the tile back into place.

The water bubbled and hissed like a witch's cauldron and belched out a thick, yellowish cloud that rapidly filled the washroom. Two men choked on the sulfurous fumes and desperately searched for the exit. Meanwhile, Hiro climbed across several meters of struts and supports, removed a tile a dropped into the adjoining ladies room. "What are you doing in here?" a shrill voice cried.

The dark-haired girl wearing a red cloak stood in front of a row of sinks, her wand in hand and pointed straight at him. Hiro recalled that her name was Beatrix. "I have a really good explanation."

"Start talking."

A few minutes later, the door banged open as the third friend ran inside the ladies' room. "What is this? A raceway?" he heard from the other side of a closed stall. A pair of legs wearing white socks and black oxfords was visible below the door.

He saw the ceiling tile out of position. "I'm looking for a guy."

"In the women's room?" the girl's voice replied. "What kind of pervert are you?"

"Did you hear anything?" he asked.

"I heard something hit the floor then what sounded like somebody bolt out of here," the girl answered. "Now will you leave or do I start screaming?"

"Keep your shirt on."

"I have a wand," the voice threatened. "And I'm not afraid to use it."

The two teens breathed a sigh of relief when the man finally departed. The girl straddled the assassin's lap while the boy's legs stuck out straight ahead, feet pressed against the stall door. "How long do we stay like this?" Beatrix asked.

"Not too much longer."

"I can only imagine what my classmates would say if they could see me," the girl remarked. "I'm sitting on a boy's lap and I don't even know his name."

"It's Oishi," he told her. "Oishi Kuranosuke."

"Well Oishi-san," Beatrix said, "you certainly know how to make powdering your nose exciting."

--

Mahora, Japan

Elevator doors opened soundlessly, letting the woman onto her floor. She fished through the voluminous, black handbag, extracting a set of keys. Minamoto Shizuna, special assistant to the dean, unlocked the door and walked into her modest apartment. Most days she appreciated having a place away from the campus, but she didn't look forward to the commute on busy days like today. Tired feet slipped out of shoes and padded softly to the bathroom. In a short while, the woman luxuriated in a tub of hot, sudsy water, as aches and pains slowly soaked away.

The task facing them was daunting to say the least. Yet Shizuna believed that the headmaster's vision of Mahora was worth fighting for, even if not one of them survived. That possibility grew larger with each passing day. For herself, she knew where this path could lead; her concern was for those students that didn't. Girls like Mana, Kaede and Setsuna had faced these dangers before, while a few others, like Ayaka and Satsuki, had the maturity to understand, but too many saw this as some sort of video game adventure, even after the class trip.

She heard a knock upon the front door and reluctantly got out of the bath. Wrapping a towel around herself, Shizuna walked through the living room. 'It better not be that perverted building manager,' the woman thought as she looked through the peep hole. What she saw brought a gasp of surprise and she swiftly opened the door. The man in the wizard's robe, holding the staff shaped like a bolt of lightning, smiled as he recognized her. "Hello Shizuna-kun."

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

His face had a sallow, unhealthy color to it and eyes a yellowish tint. "I need your help," he said then crumpled, falling against her as he fainted.

A/N – The chapter title and heading are from 'Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field' by Walter Scott. The quote 'What we do in life echoes in eternity' is from the movie 'Gladiator' which I think it would make a good, double feature with 'Ala Rubra, The Movie.'