The Surgeon General's Warning:
Read at your own risk. Suspension of Disbelief is required. WARNING: there is some content ahead that might trigger an unexpected case of maniacal grinning. You have been warned.
Springfield, Ph.D.: A Different Paradigm
Chapter 12:
When You're Tired Eat Something Sour
An Negima-ish fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards
The morning after, as much as he anticipated, was not to be a pleasant day for Doctor N. Springfield. Despite the advances in the arcane sciences, healing magick were processes that were very much behind the times, by and large. Many spells were just refinements on the principle of accelerated natural healing, and few could be called true regenerative "healing". As wondrous the substance of mana was, it was far from being the much vaunted Philosopher's Stone, able to be transmuted into any matter at will.
Negi could hardly afford to use his knowledge of battlefield medicine, as most of those magicks were related to dealing immediately with trauma and first aid. There were other options in his doctor's bag, all with their distinctive benefits and drawbacks, but in the end, he had to opt for a simple over the counter solution. The boy professor could not afford having a relapse later down the road, because convenience did not equate a thoroughly done job.
Processing Konoka Konoe the night before had not helped him seed a speedy recovery either, but it was necessary, and he would be remiss in his duties for not seeing it through to the end. The princess had woken to quite a fright, clinging like a small shivering animal to the upholstery for a good few minutes, before Negi was able to sooth her fears with assuring platitudes. It would have been courteous of his dear "cousin" to have added the weight of her words to the effort, too, but the Little Big Red seemed to enjoy watching him play the good cop (read: strain his already taxed body further).
How The Doctor wished fervently to wipe that vivacious glee off her pretty face. However, he was a magnanimous, graceful loser, and understood the value of humility, even if it was becoming a protracted lesson in masochism. His back hurt. A LOT. And from the pit of his black heart, Negi wanted nothing to do with the processing of Konoka Konoe, which took roughly the better part of the late hour to finish.
The princess, obviously, was surprised and relieved to see them, admitting simperingly she had gone out to investigate the rumor of the vampire on Cherry Blossom Street, just a little, while running an errand on the side. Konoka confirmed Negi's suspicions, more or less, that she shared a secret love for the occult, which was now not so secret anymore, since her classmate and teacher had been brought abreast of her fancy. Alas for the excitable girl, her adventure tonight did not yield such a fantastical creature, but a far more real threat, thanks to the incriminating images Anya had already copied and then doctored over, with some commercially available image "enhancement" software.
It appeared in all of her enthusiasm she got bit with a case of hysteria, when Konoka met up with a true blue sexual predator on the prowl. Only by her good fortune did The Doctor happen upon the scene by chance, having spotted her leaving from the girls dormitory earlier, while making good on his rounds for the voluntary curfew patrols run by the faculty and sometimes student volunteers. The fuzzy images were not good enough to be turned in as evidence, but they most assuredly disproved any farfetched theories regarding vampires.
Thus, the princess was grateful for her rescue, and Negi was pleasantly surprised by his secretary's unexpected computing skills. It looked to be a picture perfect ending to the evening, but as they all made to escort the Kantou Magi Association's pride and joy back to her overdue bed time, he could not help but make note of a disturbing observation. The Doctor had yet to share his notes with another soul, and for the life of him, he could not scrub the image from his damnably precise memory either.
Konoka Konoe had looked disquietingly disappointed for a moment there, sulking with pouted lips on the couch, like a spoiled child. Had it been her desire truly to meet a vampire in the flesh? If so, it was dangerous thinking. Negi had no wish to shoulder the responsibility of correcting such distorted thinking. His mandate as her protector only went as far as her physical well-being, but as a teacher his room to maneuver was far broader. Alas, there was a conflict of jurisdiction. He had not been authorized to reveal openly the hand he played in the princess' daily living beyond being her teacher and acquaintance, nor was he allowed to reveal the harsh truth of the terrors in the Wizarding World.
Therefore, he was effectively powerless to do anything in a subject that deserved full disclosure. Vampires were not a laughing matter. Marauding packs of newly "minted" undead could overwhelm a sleepy, unprepared hamlet within days and extinguish all life within a month, while more advanced nosferatu can perform the same feat by themselves alone. Bloody hell, the princess herself almost became a vintage blood wine for one, or worse!
He should have confided in Magistra Magi Anastasia Yurievna Cocolova, but what good would it have done other than to ease his own frustration at the increasingly apparent, and irrational mandate he operated within? Besides, thinking sourly about the subject helped him to walk a little faster, unexpectedly, and Negi had happily bid Konoka the early morning before making himself scarce, with his favorite poison pink polka dot chihuahua in tow. The princess aside, they still had a long day ahead, and much less sleep than usual to accomplish their missions.
There was data that needed to be analyzed, an after action report to be written in triplicate, and an official debrief to be given to the Dean, for his daughter had been attacked and he would want to know the details of the circumstances. Doctor N. Springfield would hope rather that the old raccoon would have the patience to wait, since paperwork did not complete itself overnight spontaneously. Dossiers and presentations take up a lot of human resources, too, in order to come to their fruition.
The last thing Negi needed, still hurting badly and a little sleep deprived, when he started homeroom on that terrible Monday morning was an unwanted surprise.
"I beg your pardon, miss," the boy professor huffed at the ineffable interloper standing in the threshold of his classroom, for all to see. "But who are you? And what are you doing in my class?"
Class 3-A seemed to be happy to answer the question for him, and welcome another amongst their illustrious number back to the fold in a gushing wall of conversation that came crashing in like a tidal wave.
"Uwah~! Lookie, lookie! It's Chachamaru-chan~!"
"Really?"
"Wow, it really is!"
"Oh! Welcome back, Chacha-tan."
"Did you have a nice trip? How was Hawaii?"
"Hey, is Eva-chan doing well?"
"Did you meet any cute boys~? Kya, kya, kya!"
The Doctor did not want to believe Murphy was having a roaring good time at his expense, again, in so few hours, and that by some dumb luck, he had parked his fabulous rear on Pandora's Box for the better part of seven odd months, the fuse set the moment he opened his class handbook. Well, surprise-surprise, the damning evidence was right underneath his nose all along, and that contemptible Takamichi T. Takahata even had the gall to recommend him asking his newest pain in the backside for advice should he run into trouble!
Trouble? He had a ripe pair of mangy delinquents in his class, whom had questionable moral compasses, and were a stranger combination to boot: a Dracula wannabe and I, Robot in the making! Oh, Takahata better pray they that he and the boy professor did not happen to conveniently cross paths in the next few hours, because Negi had had had it with the bespectacled man's incompetence. He was mad as hell, and he was not going to take it anymore!
Good grief, Negi breathed, his brow pinched in embattled patience. "Pray tell, if I am not wrong in inferring from the gossip of your classmates, you do possess an in~teresting explanation why seven months later... You see it fit now to make a grand appearance in my humble classroom, Karakuri Chachamaru-san, Student Number Ten?"
"Please, allow me to speak: yes, sensei, you are correct," the android girl bowed to him, observing absolutely impeccable decorum that almost made him blush, before procuring a white sealed envelope from her book bag. "All the details you may require are included within."
"Why, thank you, and does this also include a convenient excuse why your colleague, I presume based on the warm reception here..." the boy professor shot a meaningful nod towards the class of mostly grinning, excited girls, who promptly exploded into giggles and laughter at his attention. "Is missing as well?"
"Negative, so I regret to inform you, sensei; the fact is, MacDowell-san is attending school, but she is boycotting your classes in protest."
Ah, what a pain; looking at her for too long really irritated his sense of aesthetics. It was a miracle she had not been discovered for what she was truly, with all her imperfections, but... WHAT? Negi blinked, jarred from his thoughts by her inflammatory words, his back thrown erect, as if a jolt of lightning had just jumped through him.
"I beg your pardon?"
Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor spotted a similar wave of disquiet spreading through his flock. Asuna Kagurazaka was one thing, but his traditional opponent had never gone as far as to refuse actually attending his classes in person. The little sharks in the darkest recesses of the girls' hearts smelled blood in the water, a delicious scandal in the making, and who were they to refuse a free meal at the gossip mill?
Chachamaru Karakuri went right on talking, like the well-behaved "living doll" she was, and ignorant apparently of the waves she was making through the flesh and blood students.
"It is I say, regrettably, sensei. MacDowell-san is here but has expressed no desire to attend your classes. Shall I recall her, sensei?"
Oh no, Karakuri-san, thought Negi disparagingly, as he tore his gaze and shot a profusely pointed look at his secretary, with the intensity of a laser beam. By all means, you must not strain yourself now, especially when you have done bloody quite enough to put my reputation on the headman's block, for the umpteenth time since I began teaching here!
It was a card the boy professor played rarely, and the shocking effect was instantaneous, causing Anya to sit up, ramrod straight. Caught off guard, her wide-eyed expression squirmed fretfully in dread of whatever bout of unreasonable rationale he was about to unleash from his parting lips. She understood the implications of the affront well enough, but never in their short time together had she seen her roommate and boss, so...electrifying tyrannical.
"AN~AS~TASIA~!" The Doctor bellowed in his peculiarly accented English, the savvy one he used whenever he wanted to be unabashedly full frontal and to the point.
God, how she hated herself for being powerless to resist his bullying cry, but a hint of danger in his tone, said plenty to her lower lizard brain that now was not a good time to sass Negi Springfield. So, Anastasia Yurievna Cocolova bolted upright out of her seat like the anxious and a little bit scarred schoolgirl she was, blubbering her readiness to obey in Russian, "Y, Yes, Springfield-sensei!"
"'ere's me lesson plan. Ye teach 'em to the wild bunch, and Miss Yukihiro can be y'er deputy. Fortune willing, I shall return before the period's over."
Oh, a lesson plan; how convenient. Wait. Should she not be speaking in English? Or more appropriately in Japanese for those candy brained twats, who had yet to join the multilingual world society? ...HUUUHHH? He was serious!
"Wha, wh, WHAT? B, But...! Hey! Where are you going?" the panicked magistra magi shouted at the debonair form of her employer, who gestured to the new girl to wait outside the classroom for him.
"Elementary, my dear cousin. I've gots me a delinquent to catch. Hip, hip, cheerio! Carry on, and have a nice class, eh?"
And with a parting bow, Class 3-A exploded into a pandemonium of questions and shrill giggling, as Doctor N. Springfield made himself scarce, slamming the lid shut to Pandora's Box. The girls might not have been fluent in English, but whatever broken pieces of conversation they managed to decipher had its intended effect, igniting the metaphorical powder keg that had already been spilled all over the floor. As much as he regretted leaving his beloved poison pink polka dot chihuahua and the vivacious young lady of Yukihiro in the ensuing conflagration, Negi had confidence they could wrangle the rank and file to follow his directives.
Though, admittedly, it was awful rotten of him to leave them hanging, danger close to the killzone, but he imagined it would be an excellent character-building experience for them both. Negi would be sure to reward them both with some angel food cake later. In the meantime, he had a vampire hunt to start.
"Now, Chachamaru-san," the boy professor addressed the dutifully waiting android to his right. "Where might I find our missing classmate, if you do not mind me asking?"
It was awful gracious of her not to slug him out, with a sucker punch, in the middle of school, so it lead him to believe that either had standing orders for a cease fire outside of effective business hours... Or she had a questionable sense of fair play to match her misguided sense of morality.
"I am unable to find a reason to decline, sensei," Chachamaru told him plainly. "Might I suggest the school roof on the west wing side?"
"Why, thank you!" although inwardly, Negi was quite surprised she was being so open with him. Could this be a trap, or was his intent and purpose well within whatever parameters of some grand stratagem hidden away behind those cool neon green photoreceptors? ...Also, why the school rooftop? Sunlight, generally, was not convivial to the health of vampires. "...Ah, wait, the thought almost slipped my mind. Silly me. Please, wait."
Well, there was no time like the present to find out, although he had his own growing suspicions already, but first, he had more decree to make. Opening a classroom window from the hallway, the one he learned quickly was always unlocked, the boy professor was nearly bowled over by the shear volume of noise. Class 3-A really knew how to get loud, but Negi was no slouch either.
"GIRLS!" and with one thundering shout of his own, nearly scaring the skirt off of Madoka Kugimiya (No. 11), he captured their attentions in a heartbeat. "Let it be known henceforth that Karakuri-san and MacDowell-san are on my very dissatisfied hotlist of unsatisfactory pupils. If they give me even a reason to sneeze, I will put them on disciplinary action, whether it be detention or remedial lessons, whatever enlightenment they happen to need. Are we clear?"
"Kyaa, kyaa, kyaa~! Yes, Springfield-sensei~!" came the roaring unanimous cry, with enough sweet enthusiasm to make his cheeks ache.
It was rightly what he wanted to hear, barring the fascinatingly dark look from a flustered Anya, which promised some green-eyed misery for him later down the road, but the boy professor would bother to give a damn when he arrived at that burning bridge. Closing the window shut, Negi returned his attention to Chachamaru, who once again had been kind enough not to do something untoward to him, while his back was turned. Goodness gracious, he was starting to find it very hard to believe that a mangy, blood-sucking leech would have such a proper "living doll" commissioned for her employ.
Then again, it raised the possibility she might belong to someone else, and was on loan to the said amateurish ankle biter, thought Negi, inclining his chin meaningfully at the neon green-haired android. "Now then, welcome back, Karakuri-san, and I hope you will discover my classes to be engaging and well worth your time to be on time, yes?"
"Yes, sensei," Chachamaru nodded, a remarkable human-like quirk.
He had to tip his hat to whoever designed her personality layer; subroutines that emulated body language were difficult subtleties, which would look embarrassingly wrong if executed at the wrong time or place. Perhaps, she owed her success thus far to such emulation that allowed her to go undetected by the human test population? Indeed, if the purpose of the presumed experiment was to develop a better personality blue print, then the use of such sub-par materials to "clothe" her hull was acceptable to a degree.
"Good, now that you and I have a mutual understanding, please, do remain here and assist my cousin, Cocolova-san, and our good class representative in teaching my material as well. Good morning and see you again. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Negi offered an obligatory bow, treating the incredulous situation as if now was the first time they had ever met.
Of course, it was not particularly strange to him, considering he lead a double life himself. Genius, heart throbbing boy professor by day and a private security contractor by night was his way of life, so why should he surprised that his wayward student was a misguided, though accepted delinquent by day and a loyal, mercenary "killer doll" by night?
"Ah... It is I who should be saying that: please, take good care of us from now on, as well, Springfield-sensei."
What Doctor N. Springfield could not help but be intrigued by was the sudden hesitation he sifted from Chachamaru's reply. She had hesitated, again, how ever briefly before returning his bow, and was it just him, or was the ambient air temperature around him that much hotter all of a sudden? Worse yet, the android girl had asked a most irrational request of her partner and-or boss's enemy that he take good care of them.
Way to shackle my hands and ankles together in irons, girl, thought Negi with a disillusioned snort, as he left the scene procuring a bottle of painkillers from his blazer. He was not due for a dose until another three hours, but the perniciously accumulating stresses was aggravating his suffering back, badly. As if I was not going to start giving you all a handicap, once I was brought abreast of the facts!
Goodness gracious, what did he do his past life to deserve the unreasonable fate of having to make war with his own students? NNnnghhhh! How atrocious. ...Whatever their excuses might be: Miss Evangeline A.K. MacDowell, Mister Konoemon Konoe, and that louse, Takamichi T. Takahata, better have interesting explanations for his inquiry, or there was going to be hell to pay!
And Doctor N. Springfield, so did love to make good on his ultimatums.
Suffice to say, it did not take long for The Doctor to find his first victim. As promised, he discovered Evangeline A.K. MacDowell, dressed properly the school uniform no less, catnapping on the school rooftop, in broad daylight. There was no mistaking it. For how could he forget the arrogant face of the very same little trollop of a vampire he had been indiscriminately in the process of humiliating every fiber of her being, short of physically ravaging her, like a disgusting beast. Negi would never dare to stoop so low, and in so doing, violate his vows. He was an English gentleman, a savvy man of class and a dastardly sense of honor, who could recite scripture just like the Devil, when it suited his purposes.
He was a bastard, but not a "F***ING BASTARD", although glancing at the troubling MacDowell in repose through the glass porthole inset in the door, his academic mind found itself intrigued by the possibilities. They came in any combination of "being long lived enough to have earned a boon from her sire's blood to resist the rays of the sun", "using dark magicks to buck convention", or "in spite of her relative youth, she is from a rare stock of daywalkers; hence, her immunity" for starters. The permutations of the premises were many, but at the least he could be sure that Evangeline could not be extinguished by sunlight.
Not that a little setback would stop Doctor N. Springfield from stepping up to the challenge of putting the fear of God into her; he was more determined than ever, and the boy professor eagerly began the destined hour with a bang. He kicked the door open, dynamic entry-style.
"Well well, what do we have here!" Negi's lips compressed into a thin murderous smile, as the surprised vampire stirred from her slumber in a flabbergasted splutter. "A haughty, brat of a delinquent, with a washboard chest, and flat split-haired dirty blonde rags that thinks she can get away scot-free from ditching MY class? Ho ho ho ho! Hey, washboard, did you miss the stop at the elementary school a couple blocks back? Did you, now~, short stuff?"
Evangeline scrambled hurriedly to her feet, with all the grace of a misbehaving child caught in the act of mischief. She had something to say in her honorable defense, but the moment her newly christened archenemy's flaming vitriol hit her, a vicious wind of anger snuffed out the flame of reason in a heartbeat.
"Uuuuuuuuu-! Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!" each word she punctuated by stomping, petulantly, on the floor. "You. BASTARD!"
"Why, thank you very much," Negi's smile widened to the Cheshire cat's proportions. If there was ever a time, Evangeline should be worried, now would be the appropriate moment to panic. "And if you have had quite enough of the sweet pleasantries, let us be onto business... Hurry up and move! Do I look like I enjoy allowing you to use my shadow for shade? Ho~! ...Bow down, you terrible egoist, before I have to lay hands on you, and swat you down, like the shameless mosquito you are."
The first salvo from the HMS Springfield was brutal, hitting her bow and stern. Armor piercing warheads penetrated deep through all eighteen layers of armor plating, with enough punch to put easily ten thousand fists to shame, leaving but a fraction of an inch from the Jeffery's tubes. However, Her Worshipful Darkness II had learned from the previous conflict, hanging by a thread, and had just enough steam to return fire from her crippled main batteries.
"An, an-d you call yourself, an Eng~lish gentleman? Ha! What rubbish. You wouldn't dare lay a finger on me!"
Alas, her gunnery still left much to be desired, falling well short of the indomitable Springfield.
"Now now, you may delude yourself into thinking I am too hurt to lift a finger against you, but do stop showing off your worthlessness, you flippantly annoying, unsightly Gothic lolita. Where is your ugly mascara and powder white foundation you are said to be so fond of? Hmmm? Forgot it at home? The weather too hot for you that it would cause the sun to melt the ingredients down to muck, and reveal your rotting, maggot infested flesh? HA. Be ashamed! And know your place, wormfood!"
He was only too happy to reply to her insolence, with a full merciless barrage of thundering cannon, sending the unfortunate battleship to an early watery grave. And once more, the great Evangeline found herself brought to heel by a merely uplifted "monkey" that she so very much despised.
"NNNnnnnnnghhhhh! G-G-GAMMIT! ...A, again. AGAIN. Y, you! YOU~! Uuuuuuuawwaghhhhhhh!"
"I am far from being an invalid, you ankle biting trollop," Negi sighed airily, as if he were smoking on a cigar, big fat Cuban ones at that too. "But seeing as it is my civic duty to clean up the garbage around these deplorable parts, I suppose I have no choice but to get my hands dirty with your putrid filth. Nevertheless, fear not, my un-pretty one, I will renovate your sorry maggoty brain housing group, quite...thoroughly. By the time we are finished, you would have completed a certified education from the University of Hard Knocks, upgrading your status from an unwanted cadaver, your ashes mixed and fired, remolded into my favorite little teapot, short and stout!"
The HMS Springfield was steaming full ahead, making straight for the enemy docks.
"Kkuuh! D, Don't come any closer, you English bastard!"
It was going to be a massacre, as the defenders fired the coastal batteries of light cannon in futile resistance.
"Right on cue with your scream, my dear; now, watch me do it anyway!"
Again, His mighty main guns belched fury and thunder, and smote down the valiant men punitively in a terrible conflagration of screeching flame and metal.
"Huahhh?"
"Because I am WELSH...not English, you bloody ditz!" Negi bellowed, pouring on the fire like a mad man. "Get it right next time, because it will be a bonus question on the reading comprehension test. Now, Come 'ERE!"
"Eeeeekkk~!" Evangeline squealed, narrowly slipping past his striking, almost serpentine hands.
The merry chase was on, between two disparately different classes of hunter and prey.
"Who are you? WHAT. are you?"
"Wh-Why would I tell you, boy~? H, Huu~waaah!"
"Oh~? Then have it your way, Evangeline A.K. MacDowell!"
"H, How dare you speak my name, you insufferable-UWAaaa~h!"
"Ha, better pay attention, girl~; I almost had you there."
"Go away! I have nothing to say to you!"
Evangeline A.K. MacDowell's diminutive washboard size proved to be more challenging than he initially anticipated. She was an elusive target. Doctor N. Springfield had more reach, but he would not stoop as low as to grab her by the hair. It was unsportsmanlike conduct for starters, and it would be a disservice to her wily flexibility. Besides, the boy professor was starting to enjoy this impromptu game of tag.
"Well, I have a mountain or ten worth of dung to say to you!" he shouted gleefully at the pint-sized vampire. "What were you doing out there last night, huh? And why the bloody hell did you do something so flipping inane? Do. You. Have. Any idea what kind of putrescent, rotting can of worms you just opened up, girl?"
"Last night? Heeehhhh? What are you talking about? Why, don't you tear your guts out and die already, little puppy?"
"Sure, after you finish decomposing, you rotten sourpuss cadaver! Who do you work for, huh? I never knew vampires could be so ornery and flea bitten that they need to take handouts from not-so-perfect strangers!"
Those words he spoke in perfect timing, as he had finally succeeded in cornering the little delinquent wench. Evangeline was winded, and breaking out into a ripe sweat, which was odd; very odd. If anything, she should have been giving him the run around, and quite frankly could have made good on her taunts herself. So why was it she was tired and he was still ready to go for another hour or five?
Nevertheless, she seemed to be determined to make her last stand, and Negi would not dream of disrupting her glorious speech.
"Uuuuuu! What do you know, you joke? You charlatan. Y, YOU...! Good for nothing... Im, Impostor! You: Specter of The Thousand Master! I, Evangeline A.K. MacDowell, will never again answer to any one. I will be free, and I will have my revenge, even if it takes making a hundred thousand puss oozing, hamburger-sized corpses of you!"
As far as glorious last stand speeches went, he would give her a seventy for effort, but the material needed more work, and...
"Blah, blah, blah! Wha-AARRGGHH, my back!" Negi yelped, like a wounded animal, as he felt the pinprick of her elbow slam into the small of his back in passing. The squirrely little runt had slipped through his fingers, again! Ah, the indignation! "Wa, wait, you! YOU~. I am not finished with you yet~!"
On second thought, The Doctor would give his adversary a passing grade: eighty points for the turn around, and five bonus points for pulling an akanbe on him and sticking out her tongue too. He might have given another five points, if she started spanking her buttocks and put on display her idea of underwear, before making good her escape, but then Negi would have to start wondering if he had acquired another unwanted fetish. Necrophilia was not a subject he wanted to entertain in the slightest.
Try as he might have he failed catch her, but the boy professor did come away entirely empty handed. In putting the fear of god into Evangeline A.K. MacDowell, Negi believed himself to be successful without a doubt. Who would not be scared of a roiled Welsh man on the rampage? More importantly, he had managed to extract some critical intelligence; leads that could help him unravel the strange plot that had now caught his interest, which the magister magi filed away for his later perusal.
At present though, he was more concerned if he would forced to crawl back to class on his hands and knees to make good on his promise. The vampire's parting shot, however miniscule, had undone all the miraculous work of his adrenaline and painkillers put together, in an instant; to stay standing was proving to be a Herculean task, even for the inglorious basterd himself.
Ugh, today could not be over soon enough.
To his extreme disappointment, it was already lunchtime, when Professor Negi Springfield succeeded in smuggling his aching personage back into his classroom. If he had used sorcery, he probably could have made it in time, but the boy professor stubbornly refused to make his arduous journey any easier on himself. The pain would serve as an unforgettable reminder of his carelessness, not that Negi believed he could best Murphy's Law every time, but had he worn proper protection, things could have turned out quite differently the evening prior.
Now, the bespectacled teen had not forgotten anything, in particular, but felt that as penance, he ought to be here in his classroom to reflect for a little while, before following through on the rest of his itinerary for the day. The Dean still owed the pleasure of his company, and he needed to pay a visit to Kazumi Asakura. Hopefully, the paparazzi girl should have "solid" rumors about Miss MacDowell and her accomplice, because like it or not, Negi had the sinking suspicion Konoemon Konoe was not going to be terribly forthcoming.
See, things were not adding up. If Mahora Academy truly possessed the best security money could buy, how could they possibly miss the threat of a vampire masquerading amongst the student body? Oh, and last he checked androids based on Terran technology was still in the infancy phase, but somehow, The Doctor the dumb luck to be in the same class as a working prototype? No way. Something stank; no, a lot of something's were stinking a right, proper landfill.
At the rate things were going, Negi would not be surprised if there were a handful of potential young sorceresses in his class! Next week, he would be introduced to the local Shinto demon huntress with a penchant for modern firepower, and a true blue throwback kunoichi, descended from the great ninja clans in ancients times during the Warring States era. Ha! As if such incredulous things could happen, he was living in reality, not an anime.
...Ah, if he only knew at the time how wrong he was, Doctor N. Springfield's heart might have been better prepared for the onslaught of absurdity. In the meantime, he had bigger fish to fry, such as the boor who had the nerve to interrupt his thoughts, by barging into his classroom, like she owned the place.
"Ah... I-It, it's you... Huh?" a flustered Asuna Kagurazaka greeted him, as she closed the door shut behind her. To be fair, he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. "You never did come back...sensei."
"Catching delinquents is hard work, Kagurazaka-kun," Negi answered her plainly, from where sat behind his desk, before directing his gaze elsewhere. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your volatile presence, if I am not so bold in asking?"
"H, Hey, don't take this the wrong way, all right? It's not like I came here just to see you, hmph."
"Kagurazaka, you realize you just spouted the lamest excuse my brain has had the displeasure of dissecting yet, and I find you wanting. Your book bag is not at your desk, and no one's belongings have been left behind, so the only logical conclusion is elementary... In fact, you are still here, engaging me in small talk. Therefore, it is only logical you came here to see me."
"I-I...! I just-! Um..."
"Heh. How trivial. This level of reasoning is easily possible for I, Doctor N. Springfield. What do you think, Kagurazaka Asuna-san? Do you have a credible rebuttal against my truth?"
"Oooo! Ergh. Just! What-Ever!" Asuna threw up her hands in exasperation, accompanied by trilling ring of her hair bells. He was sorely tempted to needle his pet somewhere in anticipation of her throwing a tantrum, but found his plans derailed, when she favored him with a most uncommonly vulnerable stare. "...Th, thanks..."
"I beg your pardon, Kagurazaka-kun?" maybe Negi heard her wrong, or so he told himself. Why on Earth would she have any reason to thank him at present time? The boy professor, most assuredly, did not remember doing the choleric redhead any favors, as of late, so what gives?
"I said: Thanks! ...O, o-kay?"
"And to what do I owe this honor?"
"Y, you know what I mean! It, it's not like I wanted to owe you, b-but it is what it is, right? So... B, Bye!"
Quite frankly, it was the strangest expression of gratitude Doctor N. Springfield had the pleasure of experiencing in a good long while, leaving him more befuddled than gratified. There were theories and utter crackpot mechanistic flow charts of premises that led up to his present conundrum already mucking up the better part of his beautiful mind, which he mercilessly took a flamethrower to, in order to shut up the thousand screaming mouths vying for his attentions. Or in other words, Negi thought it way too presumptuous of him to assume that Konoka Konoe's simpering blabbing at the mouth resulted in the bizarre happening.
Of course, it would be reasonable to think her embellished recollection of last night's events could spark such a reaction, but for the life of him, he did not want to think of such things. Because if Asuna Kagurazaka knew, chances were he was about to get a lot of thanks in the next several days for his supposed gallantry, and the other girls probably would not stop at a "thank you very much for your service". Oh no, knowing Class 3-A and his legion of eye-screaming fans, they might just throw themselves at his feet and ask that he proceed forward over their very bodies, because the flowers they ordered to make a path for him did not arrive on schedule.
Good grief was this school a mad house, and he was about to get jumped by another one of its patients.
"Heyyy~, Springfield-sensei; just the fella I was looking for, fu fu fu!" interjected the newest interloper into his temporary sanctum, whose presence seriously made Negi wonder if his fears were not unfounded, after all.
"Asakura Kazumi-san. How egregiously convenient," the boy professor breathed dryly in sharp contrast to the grinning brunette's enthusiasm, "of you to appear before me, now."
"Awww~, don't be so cold like that, sensei. Kusukusu! Aren't we already, like, the best of pals or something to that effect, eh?"
"I beg your pardon, but I recall no such relationship of what-have-you's, aside from our professional relationship, as teacher and pupil, and sometimes client and contractor."
"Mou~, so stingy," Kazumi pouted, as she shut the door behind her, and locked it. "But that's the Springfield-sensei, I know, for ya, folks! Kusukusu!"
Negi raised a brow. He appreciated her thoughtfulness, but would not a locked door, do more harm than good at deflecting suspicion? "You appear to be in a jolly mood, Asakura-kun, which I can only interpret to mean that somewhere, some when, something horrifically embarrassing is happening to someone else."
"Kya, kya, kya! Mou~, sensei, you flatter me too much."
"Should I be worried that you did not deny it or confirm my offhand suspicions? ...I think I should be. Yes. Very much worried."
"Aww, shucks!" she pinched coyly at her ear, while one arm clasped her raised elbow, forming L-shaped bridge. It might have appeared oh-so riveting to lesser men, but The Doctor knew better, for what the gesture meant, truly. I'd love to play like this all day long with you, Springfield-sensei, but actually I'm here on business. Do you mind?"
It was a sign of nerves. Kazumi was about to ask him something absurd, and Negi was not going to let her have her way scot-free, if he could help it. "Oh? Really, now? Well, fancy that; I, too, had a similar agenda in mind. You or I first?"
"Go fish, sensei!"
How kind of her to allow him the position of being the White King, in which case he must not disappoint her now. Oh, absolutely not!
"Build me a dossier on whatever you know and-or can dig up on Evangeline A.K. MacDowell and Karakuri Chachamaru. The going rate is a thousand yen, and you have two business days to complete the task, with a chance of a bonus, if I find the workmanship to be top notch."
The Papparrazi girl broke out into an astonished cry, giggling merrily all the way, as she entered the fray with her knights leading the charge.
"Fuwhaa~! Sen-sei~, you are just too much. The other day you were into possible net idols and blue blood ojou-sama; now, you are moving onto Gothic Lolita and Android Cosplay already? Mou~, that's rough; I can't keep up with you like this, y'know. There's a perfectly hot-blooded young woman right here, but you're just right and sorry, giving poor ol' me the whole runaround. What's next? Yankee Playboy Bunnies, hmm~?"
Negi paid no heed to her taunting, fortifying his defense with a castling maneuver, but no before gracing the board with a shot of of his own.
"Please, do not joke about that, or I might have to reconsider why I let you prance around, free as a wild mare, when I ought to take the bridle and saddle to you, for the good of the concerned masses."
"Eee~kkk! Isn't that sexual harassment? Ha ha ha ha, just kidding; I'm totally just kidding, sensei. Really, really! Please, O' Wise Springfield-sama, believe in this wretched, unworthy woman of A~sa~kura~! Kusukusu."
"Tsk," The Doctor clucked his tongue, assessing the foe's fortifications for an opening. There was none to be found, but it did not mean he simply could not make one in her walls himself. "There goes my chance. Forgive me, everyone, I tried. I really did try. Honest."
"Kusukusu... But, y'know, I'm not really interested in petty cash," Kazumi laughed, as a knight was plucked from underneath her nose, lead into a fatal ambush by mere peasants. "Ah! It won't do. It just won't do at all, isn't that right, Ka-zu-mi? Kusukusu."
"Ho? Is this the part where I hear the nature of your proposition? Hmph. Do en~tertain me, then, Asakura-kun."
The White Wizard came to the fore.
"So, how about this?" the paparazzi girl baited him, upping the ante by bringing forth the Black Empress. It was a bold challenge of his dominance, he had to admit, but hardly a conundrum he had not been unprepared to overcome.
By far, Negi was far more fascinated by green translucence of the Codd-neck bottle clasped in her fingers. "Wait. Is that lemonade you are sipping on?"
"Huh?" Kazumi blinked, pausing comically in her partaking of a favorite Japanese pastime.
"Allow me to rephrase: is that lemonade or the equivalence thereof?"
"Well, it is ramune," she informed him, and it would suit Negi's needs just fine.
"Gimmie."
"Hweeehhh?" Kazumi's scandalized cry spoke plenty of the flustered red now seizing her cheeks. He could not be serious, could he? This was THE Negi Springfield, right? English gentleman? The genuine article and not some impostor talking to her, right? Well, of course, it had to be him!
She must be imagining things because of the Spring fever, or so Kazumi Asakura tried to assure her shattered composure. It was a nice illusion, however hurriedly put together, one that Doctor N. Springfield brazenly smashed into a million pieces, with all the grace of a runaway Mack truck.
"Believe me, Asakura-kun, the romance of an indirect kiss has about the same appeal to me as a sexually transmitted disease. Now, would you be so kind as to lend me that?"
He was serious? No way!
"S, Sure, sensei. Help yourself. Ha ha ha ha..."
Ah, her teacher really drank it all. Her ramune that already touched her lips and shared her, well, you-know-what!
"SOUR~!" Negi bellowed boisterously with gusto, after having downed the bottle's remaining carbonated contents in one foul swoop.
...At least, he could have savored the experience some, thought Kazumi with a pout, a lot more entranced by the bizarre event that she cared to admit.
"Well, once again, the quaint wisdom of my mentor proves correct. When you are tired eat something sour."
"B, But you drank..." the paparazzi girl murmured sulkily under her breath.
Alas, it was not quiet enough to escape The Doctor's keen hearing, "Bah, semantics, sch-mantics! Rot them all. I am rejuvenated and that is what matters, yes? YES?"
"Y, Yeah!" Kazumi found herself hurriedly trying to cover up for her unintended mishap. Good grief, what was wrong with her all of a sudden?
"Right," Negi smacked his lips, wholly ignorant of the inappropriate innuendo he was feeding into his poor student. After all, he had only been thirsty and tired, so what did the boy professor have to be concerned over a little gesture like that, no? "So, what did you want to propose to me, again?"
"Well, ahem! Since you decided to shoot for The Prince of Mahora competition, I remembered there was one more little detail we might as well get out of the way now."
"That is?"
"Fuu," Kazumi grinned, feeling her sly devil-may-care groove coming back to her once more, in spite of the unexpected bump in the road. Indeed, the event just now must have been a fluke, and she was unnecessarily burdening herself with a freak accident was all. How wasteful! "For your information, Spring~field-sensei~, just about every girl in our class is a ditz."
"Congratulations. Did you take a rank in uncommon common sense just last night, Asakura?" Negi deadpanned in perfect form.
Suffice to say, it was by superhuman effort that the paparazzi girl found the metal not to perform a pratfall on the spot. Instead, she chose to soothe her ire, with an annoyed double take. "H-Hey, I still haven't gotten to the punchline yet! Settle down would you? You're ruining my form here."
"Ah... My apologies. Please: proceed," The Doctor acquiesced, wearing his best smile. The kind he only reserved to toy with people he found most...amusing, as they struggled futilely in his mad schemes within schemes.
"So, as I was saying. Ahem! May-be one in five of those rascals has a boy~friend, so goes according to my research."
"Well, duh, Captain Obviously Oblivious. I was held responsible for the lion's share of Valentines and White Day gifts."
"S-So, if you want a co-presenter to, kusukusu, w, walk down the aisle by your side, you could have your pick of any nice girl over twenty!"
"Ah... Asakura Kazumi. Are you losing it? Are you, heaven forbid, blushing~?"
Of course, she was blushing, but would it kill him to not make her admit it? Gah. Hold it together, Ka-zu-mi! "M-Me? Blushing? Ha! HA Ha ha ha ha ha! Th, that's a good one, sensei. Just where in the world did you get that crazy idea?"
"Ah~, very well then, in that case: I pick you," Negi told her plainly, as he rose up from his desk. "Sounds about proper, since you pushed to sponsor me in the first place for the event. Just try not to trip over your fool self and send us plunging off the runway into the spectators, when the time comes, all right, Asakura-kun? If you need coaching, do not fear because I happen to have friends in unexpected places."
"...Wh, wh, wh-wh...WHAT~!"
"Pip-pip, cheerio!" The Doctor patted his beleaguered patient reassuringly on the shoulder in passing, before making good on his leave. "A pleasure doing business with you as always, Miss Paparazzi; I expect a prompt delivery within two days, or the deal is off. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting to catch. Good day, Asakura Kazumi-san."
"Hwweeeeehhhhh? W, w, Wait~ a second. Hey. Hey~, sen-sei~!" Kazumi called out from the now emptied, running hastily through that newly opened door. Alas, the shocking gravitas of her sticky situation had delayed her several precious moments, and her tormentor was long gone, down the hall and out of sight. Still, it did not mean she could not cry out her woes to the world at large. "Ne-gi-sensei. H~e~y~! ...HEY. Please wait! This is so~ NOT funny at all! Ahhhhh, mou~!"
For you it might not be Miss Kazumi Asakura, but for Doctor N. Springfield, it was most the fun he had since the sun rose, and his day had finally begun to rise. Do enjoy the hole you have dug for yourself, miss, however long it should happen to last. In the meantime, The Doctor had bigger fish to fry.
It was high time for him to pay a most friendly visit to Konoemon Konoe. Heh.
To be continued...
Production Notes:
Phew, I finally got the word count situation back under control. There was going to be one more scene, but as you can all guess, we'll get to see that next time on The Situation Room. Dun, dun, dun, dun!
As far as references, well, there is a lot to be had as always. Plenty of fun developments too on the character front, although to be honest, Kazumi came out of left field for me too. Is that going to get anywhere? Well, it beats the hell out of me, knowing The Doctor to be The Doctor, and his questionable sense of priorities. Still, I really do fear for his health when the girls and ladies of Springfield, PhD, finally come a calling to collect on him. Hu hu hu hu!
There's no way he's going to be able to trump everyone he meets with his insane charisma rolls forever, although hot darn is he making a killing right now. Wonder how things will be once the girls level up more?
But don't worry, folks, I am not getting bogged down. There is a definite method to the madness I shall employ to conduct this campaign. Trust me, y'all won't be disappointed, when the shooting war starts. In the meantime, enjoy the rampage while it lasts, as The Doctor goes around campus stirring up one helluva hornet's nest. Though I must say, his blood letting lip service is just plain uncanny, huh?
Ramune, a popular carbonated soft drink native to Japan that is available twenty-six flavors, including the original lemon-lime.
See y'all again at the next gig.
Peace.
