A/N: And so my sojourn to Washington DC has come to an end. The past year has been momentous for many reasons, not the least being more than 120 thousand words written. Of course, the past three months have been productive, but I look to fewer updates as I go back to the normal pace of life.
Both "Negima" and Shirai from "Love Hina" are owned by Ken Akamatsu. Cycilia Sevensheep was created by Makuhari-Fan01 and appears with his permission. Other characters are of my invention.
The following conventions are used: "words", 'thoughts', "spells", 'reading', memories
A Villain's Tale
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, and every tongue brings in a several tale, and every tale condemns me for a villain – William Shakespeare
--
Mahora, Japan
Stepping off the train had brought back unpleasant memories of his previous time at Mahora. A simple kidnapping had gone terribly wrong and Koichi not only lost the girl he was to snatch, but his men as well. He had no idea at the time what could have turned seven men into drooling idiots, however, there was no doubt that failure would have cost the former yakuza more than a finger tip. Mahora had stolen both the man's pride and future; he relished the thought of revenge.
One of the girls in the picture he'd been given walked towards a small complex surrounding a single building that rose tower-like above a screen of trees. A pair of black rimmed glasses perched on her nose and the strap of a laptop bag was slung over one shoulder. Her clothing was rather conservative, even dull, compared to the flashy lingerie she wore in the photograph with her classmates.
Alongside her walked a taller girl with green hair whose movements seemed jerky in comparison to his target. Koichi guessed her to be another student and wondered at the odd protuberances on either side of the girl's head. "Kids," he muttered under his breath. "Gotta be some new fad."
Though he kept a discreet distance, the man could see that they chatted with each other. No doubt they were discussing the latest fashions, hair styles or pop music groups like any other teenagers. Outside the building, they passed a sign that read 'Okabe Hall University Technical Department.' Pausing just inside the entry doors, he watched the pair step up to the information desk and speak with an attendant.
Koichi waited for them to pass out of sight and then walked over to the desk. "Excuse me but did you see two girls pass by?" he asked while holding up some folded bills. "I think one of them dropped this money."
"You just missed them," the clerk answered. "They're on their way to the decompression chamber, ninth floor, room 912."
--
Resembling a fat, white sausage, the decompression chamber took up nearly half of the room. Chisame watched as Hakase closed the steel cylinder's hatch, sealing the robot inside. Glancing in one of the round windows set into its side, she saw her roommate seated patiently on a canvas bench. "So what are you checking Hakase-san?"
The pig-tailed student, nicknamed "the mad scientist" of class 1A, secured the lock and stepped over to an instrument panel. "I'm working on a new aquatic mode for Chachamaru and want to see how stressed her systems would be at a depth of 150 meters," the girl in the lab coat answered. "This chamber will simulate the pressure of deep water."
"That's not going to hurt her is it?"
"Chachamaru's body can withstand far greater pressure that you or I could," Hakase answered. "Her internal circuitry is a different matter."
"I'm going to start the compressor," Hakase said through the chamber's intercom. "We'll start first at the equivalent of 75 meters under water."
Chisame heard the constant chug of an electric motor as air was pumped into the cylinder. "I've been meaning to ask you something since the class trip," the web idol remarked. "On the last upgrade you gave Chachamaru a … um …"
"You're talking about genitalia right?" her classmate asked. Blushing, Chisame merely nodded her head.
"I was surprised last year to discover Chachamaru had acquired personality traits quite different from her original program," Hakase explained. "Even to the point of developing a crush, like you, on Negi-sensei."
"I don't have a crush on him," she hotly denied.
"Then why were you going to peek inside Chao's family history?"
"I was curious. That's all."
"And was it curiosity that drove you, realist that you claim to be, to follow him and the others into a fantasy world?" To that, Chisame offered no reply other than to blush harder.
"Given a million years I doubt I could write a program that could encompass friendship, but look at the relationship you two have," Hakase continued. "I wanted Chachamaru to able to experience the full spectrum of human emotions; even sexual, if she so chooses."
"How do expect a machine to understand about sex?"
"The same way any of us do."
"What if the … experience falls short of expectations?"
"Isn't that the same risk we all face?" Hakase asked in return. "You called her a machine yet show more concern for Chachamaru than you would a mere microwave. Think hard Hasegawa-san; do you consider her any bit less human than yourself?"
'Of course she's a machine, with wires and transistors,' Chisame thought, remember how the cavity inside the robot's chest looked. 'She even needs to be wound up with a key.'
Then it hit the girl that no one, herself included, referred to Chachamaru as an 'it'. They all used 'she' or 'her' when talking about the robotic student. 'But being human requires flesh and blood,' Chisame thought, 'not molded plastic and wires.' Yet if that was true, what did it matter that the robot had more human-like features? Why worry about expectations? And why would she consider the gynoid a friend?
"Ludicrous! Preposterous!" she would have labeled such a though only a year ago. How strange that no other word than friendship could define their relationship.
Hakase pressed the intercom button again to check on how Chachamaru was doing before increasing the pressure again. "Now I'd like you to answer my question," the pig-tailed scientist said. "What are your plans after high school?"
"I haven't given it much thought," Chisame answered. "I figured I'd do something internet related."
"What about starting a business?" the other girl asked. "They way you've marketed Chiu-chan shows me you have the instincts for it."
"Chiu?"
"Don't take me for an idiot Hasegawa-san," Hakase told her. "It's quite obvious that you are Chiu-chan's creator."
"Why the sudden interest in my plans?"
"Using what I've learned from Chao, I'm going to start a robotics company," her classmate explained. "I even have some of the financial backing lined up, but what I lack is that genius for promotion you seem gifted with."
The web idol stared back, not comprehending what she heard. "Are you asking me to handle an advertising campaign?"
"Actually a bit more than that," Hakase answered. "I'm offering you a full partnership, a chance to get in on the ground floor of an industry that has an unlimited potential."
Memories came back to her …
As Negi's students fought for a peek at sensei's future, his self proclaimed descendant lifted gracefully into the air.
"About what you do with the future technologies, it's just like what we agreed on," Chao told Hakase.
Her conspirator bowed her head in understanding. "Everything," Hakase said, "is under control, Chao-san."
"This is that unfinished business Chao-san spoke of before vanishing," she accused.
"It could be," the girl responded, "but I do have my own hopes and dreams for the future."
"Don't bother with a decision now, but give it some thought," Hakase said. "At the moment, we should all concentrate on being around to graduate high school."
Eventually, the pressure test was done and Hakase took Chachamaru next door to run some diagnostic checks. Meanwhile, Chisame remained behind trying to sort out the jumble of thoughts rattling around in her head. The teen idol had never banked on winning the Negi sweepstakes, in fact she had done as much as possible to maintain her distance from the boy wizard and his other partners since their return from the Mundus Magicus. Recent events only served to confirm the wisdom of keeping them at arm's length. However if being a permanent partner wasn't going to happen, what did that leave?
Licensing her Chiu persona had, amazingly, made money; while it enabled the girl to upgrade her equipment, it wasn't enough to make a living with. In the midst of all this reflection, a pang of hunger reminded her that it had been hours since breakfast.
Chisame walked down the hall to a small alcove to where vending machines were located. A bag of biscuits featuring a panda on the foil wrapping dropped into the open slot. Footsteps sounded behind her as she bent to pick up the package and then she knew no more.
Pain in the back of her head greeted the student as she slowly regained consciousness. A soft fabric yielded beneath her as eyes opened to a white ceiling illuminated by light streaming in through round windows. Ears caught a steady hiss of air. Did she faint and somebody carry her to a cot?
"Oh my God!" she cried as she glanced about. Quickly Chisame stood and then reeled from the sudden motion. She was trapped inside the decompression chamber and air was being pumped in. The door refused to budge and the windows were too thick to break. 'My card,' she thought and started patting her pockets. A pactio card could be used to contact Negi and the little squirt could teleport her out, or at least get help here. 'Where is it?'
A sick feeling came over her as she continued searching, until the girl glanced out one of the ports. On the chair she'd been sitting on all morning was stacked her laptop case and card. "No!" she gasped as eardrums began to ache from the mounting pressure. "Oh no!"
--
Chachamaru sat in a chair with her chest panel open and two cables plugged into her IO ports. Her co-inventor watched intently as data flowed across a monitor, indicating the completion and results of each of the diagnostic checks performed.
"Good, good," Hakase murmured. "No problem there."
"Hakase-san," the gynoid called, causing the other to glance away from the screen.
"What is it?"
"I have been considering my latest upgrade," the robot answered. "After analysis I find some of the modifications are impractical."
"Which modifications are you talking about?"
Gears rotated faster, generating excess heat for filaments to carry away. In order to allow Chachamaru to wear her hair up, Hakase had rerouted those filaments so that they terminated in the outer levels of her synthetic skin. Cheeks reddened in response to the increased volume of heat escaping, giving the illusion of blushing. "I believe you referred to them as 'the dirty parts'."
"Oh," the pig-tailed girl replied knowingly. "Why would you think they're impractical?"
"I have made a preliminary study of their uses," Chachamaru responded, "and can find no evidence to suggest utilization for those purposes has any sort of probability of occurring."
"What sort of study did you do?"
"I have checked pertinent material available in the library as well as online sources," the robotic student answered. "And Haruna-san also allowed me access to her manga collection."
"Haruna-san's collection may not constitute a full or accurate view of the subject," Hakase pointed out.
"It is quite extensive."
"That may be true, and you might learn something worthwhile," her co-creator replied, "but manga is primarily an entertainment not informational media."
"Would you suggest further investigation then?"
"By all means," Hakase responded. "Curiosity about such things is a normal, developmental milestone. Alright Chachamaru, let's test your audio input next."
As the gynoid adjusted her sound filters, she became aware of a noise from the adjoining room. "Didn't you turn the chamber's compressor off?"
--
"I come from the future," her classmate admitted not too long into their first year of middle school. From the first day they had met, it was evident that Lingshen Chao had a brilliant intellect. Hakase knew she had found somebody who was a match for her in the classroom. "I'm here to avert a disaster."
Regardless of how brilliant the Chinese exchange student was, there wasn't time for tall tales. "How very interesting," she replied. "Now if you excuse me, I have work to do."
"You're making a robot for that little, vampire girl in class." Chao wore a big grin as she made the statement.
Who Evangeline MacDowell was and the fact that the wanted mage was at Mahora were both closely guarded secrets. That this girl knew something indicated her new classmate could be a serious threat; but how could Hakase accept claims of time travel? Surprisingly, all it took was a small scrap book of yellowing news clippings.
'2019 – Tokyo, Japan' the heading read. 'Hakase Satomi, co-founder and CEO of Robotic Evolutions Incorporated, announced the purchase of US based Trinity Propulsion Systems from the Carlson Media Group. "This acquisition will enable us to further advance AI controlled navigation to levels far surpassing the GPS revolution earlier this century," the award winning scientist declared. "I predict that the generation born today will benefit from the total synthesis of human creativity with the computing power of the microprocessor." The deal, a combination of cash and preferred stock, is believed to exceed 100 Billion US Dollars.'
Anybody armed with a laptop and a word processor could fake a news story, but how would they get newsprint that tests confirmed was 50, 80 or even 100 years old to print them on? And then extensive research was needed on classmates not even met to write plausible stories. Yukihiro-san would serve as Finance and later Foreign Minister in the Japanese cabinet. Sasaki-san would be named as coach of the Woman's Rhythmic Gymnastics Team for the Olympics in Mumbai, India. Murakami-san would receive the Palm d'Or for best film at the Cannes Festival.
"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," Hakase had muttered.
"Arthur Conan Doyle, right?" Chao had asked.
"Have you read his stories?"
"No, but my younger sister really liked Sherlock Holmes."
"Your sister has good taste," Hakase remarked. "Or maybe that should be she will have good taste."
In the present, Hakase flipped open her cell phone and stared at Chisame. They had found their classmate unconscious in the pressurized chamber and immediately began decompression. Chachamaru laid her friend on a cot as the gynoid began monitoring vital signs. This was a deliberate murder attempt she knew, but what to do?
"I'm going to have to call Kuzunoha-san about this," she announced.
"Negi-sensei should be contacted as well," the robot responded just as Chisame murmured something.
"Is Hasegawa-san alright?"
"Help me," the web idol murmured and grabbed hold of Chachamaru like a drowning person would her rescuer. "Please help me."
Gently, the robot placed her arms about the injured girl and held her like a mother would a small child. In a soothing voice she assured her friend, "You're safe."
'A million years? No, never,' Hakase thought as a feeling not unlike maternal pride filled her.
--
Soft, fleecy clouds drifted across a brilliant blue sky as the couple enjoyed a Saturday picnic. "This is really good," the young man said as he lifted the last bite full to his mouth. Konoka beamed with pleasure from his praise. They had made plans after Monday's date to meet again, yet the girl hadn't been sure that a picnic would work out. None of her other dates had wanted to do something as simple as sit on a blanket and have lunch. This was also the first opportunity she had to fix a meal for one.
"I'm glad you like it," the girl replied and then noticed a single rice grain stuck to the side of his mouth. A smile appeared in response to a sudden bit of inspiration.
"Is something wrong?" Shirai asked as she moved close to him.
"Don't move," Konoka said as her face drew next to his. Her date's back and shoulders stiffened as her lips gently touched his skin and deftly removed the stray piece of rice. "All done," she announced, her breath blowing against a flushed cheek.
A note of strain was detectable in his voice as the young man asked, "May I breath now?" and proceeded to exhale deeply. "Um, what …?"
"You had a bit of food on the side of your face," Konoka explained.
"O … okay," Shirai responded as his eyes gazed down on the valley where Mahora sat. "I wanted to know if you'd like to come to Tokyo next weekend. I thought you might like to go shopping in the Shinjuku district, maybe catch a movie."
"That sounds like fun," she replied. "But isn't the Kabuki-cho, where all those love hotels are, right next to it?"
"We certainly wouldn't be going there," the young man quickly answered. "Actually, I was hoping to introduce you to my grandparents. They own a flower shop not too far from the train station."
"My grandmother in particular wants to meet you," Shirai continued. "I didn't know it until recently, but she attended high school here."
Another difference Konoka noted, the others hadn't asked her to meet their parents, but then this was the first time for a second date. "I'd like that very much." The girl wondered how Shirai meeting her family would go. Remembering her classmates' surprise at seeing her home, she hoped he wasn't too easily overawed. And then there was another, little matter.
"What do you think of fortune telling?"
He looked surprised by the sudden shift in subject. "I haven't given it much thought, but most of it strikes me as designed to tell desperate people what they want to hear," Shirai answered. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm the president of the fortune telling club."
"Of course I believe in keeping an open mind."
"Glad to hear it," Konoka remarked. "Give me your hand."
The mage bent over the hand and intently studied the lines etched into the man's palm. "This is called your life line," the brown-haired girl said while lightly tracing the groove. "It is fairly long and uninterrupted which is a good sign."
"And this one indicates success in your endeavors," she continued to point out. "And this says you are a kind, caring individual who will devote himself to the happiness of those important to you."
"You can tell all that from my hand?"
"The outside of the body reflects who we are inside," she explained.
"Do you read anything besides palms?"
A mischievous grin appeared in response. "Maybe some other time."
--
Kansai Temple, Kyoto Japan
Furor over first Amagasaki's escape, then Setsuna's trial followed by Tsukuyomi turning out to be a shikigami had finally begun to die down. Only a plague of frogs was missing from the mix. Slowly Eishun sipped the tea, letting its delicate flavor play over his tongue. "I have a second cup," the swordsman said without glancing up.
A man dressed in a tattered robe, bearing a staff shaped into a lightning bolt, stepped from the shadows. His hood was down, revealing an unruly mop of reddish-brown hair that neither brush nor comb had ever been able to tame. Nagi leaned his staff against the wall and knelt on the opposite side of the table as Eishun poured.
"It's been a while," the leader of the Kansai Magic Association observed in a calm voice that belied the deep bonds of friendship between the men. "How have you been?"
"Drunk," the man simply answered and then picked up the tiny porcelain cup. "And you?"
"Bogged down with tedious paperwork. What brings you to Kyoto?"
"I heard a former acquaintance of ours was going to pay a visit," the mage replied, wearing that cocky grin of his. "So I stopped by to say hello."
Eishun immediately pictured the great swathes of forest turned into so much kindling. "I hope our mutual friend was properly grateful."
"He didn't appear happy to see me," Nagi replied with a grin. "You'd have thought I ruined his day."
"I've noticed you have that effect on a lot of people."
That roguish smile faded as his guest asked, "Where is Anna buried?"
"I don't know," the swordsman answered. "According to what I heard, she was found by the Cocolova's shortly after the attack and they rushed her to the nearest hospital."
"It was fortunate that Andrei and Deirdre had timed their visit for then," he continued. "I assumed they took her body back to Wales when they returned with Negi."
"I'd like the name and address of that hospital."
"Of course," Eishun responded. "Are you planning on visiting Negi?"
"I already had a chat with him though I don't believe he realizes it," the man said. "It's still too dangerous for me to be hanging around."
"He's been facing danger regularly since arriving at Mahora," the swordsman informed him. "I'm amazed at that boy's growth."
"I know. I got to see him in action during the Ostian Tournament," Nagi said proudly. "I recognized some of Rakan's technique but who's been training him at Mahora? Al? Takamichi?"
"Eva-san." Eishun repressed a grin as tea spewed from his friend's mouth, staining the dusty robe.
"What?" the man coughed. "Eva?"
"Up until last month," he replied, his expression turning serious again. "The Cabal killed her."
"I heard," Nagi's said as his expression changed to one of grief. His friend's head slumped forward as the mage groaned, "I've made a mess of everything."
--
University Hospital, Kyoto Japan
An incessant squeal filled the corridor as a white coated attendant pushed an empty gurney down the corridor. Some of the nurses in the ICU commented among themselves how handsome he seemed despite the unkempt appearance of his hair. As he passed the closed administration office door, the man paused and glanced in both directions down the hallway. "Pateo," he said in a low voice and door silently swung inward. A ball of bluish-white light materialized at another softly spoken word, and humming to himself, he approached one of the computer terminals left on overnight. A quick check of the immediate area revealed an account name and password taped to the underside of the counter.
Fingers clicked rapidly on the keyboard, entering 'Springfield' and several variations. Having no success, he tried 'Adenauer'. "Bingo," Nagi whispered as the name Anna Adenauer appeared. A pregnant woman by that name was admitted after sustaining injuries in a house fire in August of 1993. Baby Boy Adenauer was born three months later and both were released to relatives by the name of Cocolova. 'Released?' Nagi thought. Their bills were paid in full and a London address given. His search was interrupted when the doorknob rattled.
A beam from an electric torch illuminated empty cubicles as the light swept over the office. After a thorough search, the guard called in the unsecure door and then locked it on his way out. After several minutes more, the monitor's energy saving mode activated and the screen turned black.
--
Phoenicis, Mundus Magicus
"I'm sorry but we don't give out any information on our guests," a peeved looking desk clerk informed her.
"All I want to know is whether they've checked out," Cycilia stated but the other woman only replied by staring at her blouse. Glancing down she asked, "Is something wrong?"
"You have a spot."
"Where?"
"Right there."
"I don't see anything," the reporter remarked.
"It's as plain as day," the clerk responded. A hand reached up as if to brush a bit of lint away. "Let me get it for you."
A voice called out "Miss Sevensheep" and she turned her back to the helpful woman.
"Mister Akashi," Cycilia returned his greeting while behind her the clerk muttered something in a frustrated tone. "I was afraid you two might have already left Phoenicis."
"To be truthful," the professor replied, "we haven't found a transport yet."
"Perhaps I can be of assistance then," the sheep-eared woman said. "I also have an invitation to deliver."
"Invitation?"
"Mister Akashi," the desk clerk called. "Are you're heading back to your room?"
Without waiting for an answer, the horned woman piled several envelopes and pieces of paper on the counter. "Here's another stack for your associate."
Entering the hotel room, she saw the young man seated at a table, reading a letter written on blue stationary. "That was quick sensei," Oishi said and then stood as he recognized the reporter. "Hello."
"Here's more fan mail," Akashi announced as he dumped the new stack atop the other. One of the envelopes, a pink one with little hearts stamped on it, had an Ariadne postmark. Before Cycilia could take a closer look, the professor asked, "What's was this about an invitation?"
"Oh, the convention is holding a formal reception this evening and you've both been invited as honored guests," Cycilia informed the pair. "I believe Miss Nekome is looking forward to seeing you again."
If she expected him to show some enthusiasm, the young man disappointed her. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass."
"Nonsense," his sensei responded. "You don't often get the finest minds of a world together. This is too good of an opportunity to ignore."
"I didn't bring any formal attire," Oishi remarked.
"That's easily remedied," the older man pointed out. "Miss Sevensheep, we'll be there."
"You also mentioned something about transportation to Ariadne," Akashi reminded the woman."
"The Crescent Hawk is an independent freighter," Cycilia told them. "I'm flying back on it tomorrow and its captain assures me there's room for a few more passengers."
--
Glowing orbs set on metal posts spaced evenly apart lent a sense of sameness with Paris along the Seine. He guessed all cities had those sections away from the bright lights and neon, where one could take a stroll and not feel as if you were in a carnival midway. Up ahead, Professor Akashi walked with the reporter from Ariadne, leaving him as sullen company for the bounty hunter.
"You know Kuro," Cintilla said, "I can only apologize so many times for dragging you into that broom closet."
"That's not the problem," Hiro replied.
"So what is?"
"Come on, we should catch up."
Stopping suddenly, the neko-woman grabbed hold of his arm. "No!" she said sharply. "I want an answer."
Hiro stared at her glowering face under the street lamp. He was going to shake off her hand and walk on, but something in the bounty hunter's eyes made him reconsider. "Have you ever read a story where an ordinary guy wakes up one day and finds suddenly he's wealthy or famous? People see him totally different than they did yesterday, different than he really is?" he asked and waited for her return nod and so what look. "Well I'm stuck in this fantasy."
"I have complete strangers telling me what a fine person I am, wanting to do magazine articles on me, inviting me to speak before their civic groups," he said in a rising voice that kept just below a shout. "One woman even asked if I'd consider becoming a partner for her daughter who's a mage in training."
"I don't mind having my ego stroked," Hiro continued, "so having girls mail me their panties …"
"Who mailed you a pair of panties?"
"I don't remember, but the point is that this is all a lie," the assassin answered as he remembered Ayaka's face at the hospital. He had helped rescue the girl's friend from a gang of kidnappers and she saw him as some sort of white knight. "But it's a very seductive lie."
He had been paid to kill Ayaka by one of her father's enemies and had charmed her enough to get close. While on a boat ride, Hiro had resolved to carry out the contract but found himself unable to. Those eyes of hers beheld a hero and for that moment, he wanted nothing more than for it to be true. "And when you want to believe that lie yourself …"
"Sounds like you need blow off some steam," Cintilla remarked, her hand now lightly resting on him. "Let's catch up with the others."
"What do you have in mind?"
"There's a little bar not too far away," she answered with a grin. "It's perfect for stress relief."
--
Music spilled out through the open door, filling the street with a loud and raucous beat. Inside the bar's dimly lit and smoky interior, patrons jostled each other at the bar or around one of the pool tables. Hiro glanced about, thinking that if Final Fantasy ever had a biker bar, it would look like this place. One of the pool players apparently missed a shot as his opponent gave a short bark of laughter. In response, the fellow, who reminded the assassin of a rhinoceros standing on its hind legs, grunted and swung the stick against the table edge; a crack sounded as the stick snapped in two.
"Charming," Cycilia muttered.
"I thought you'd get a kick out of this place," Cintilla said above the noise. "I see an open table. Follow me."
As the group walked by, several males gave the two women appreciative stares. A customer at the bar signaled his approval with a piercing whistle. A long, pink tongue lolled out of a canine-like face provoking laughter from others nearby. "I was thinking I'm overdressed," the reporter commented as they sat down. "Now I wonder if I shouldn't have on a suit of armor."
"Do you want to leave?" the professor asked.
"We'll only stay for one drink," the neko-woman assured them. "Why don't you order me a Granicus Smasher Kuro?"
"That sounds interesting," Cycilia remarked. "I'll try one as well."
"I think I'll stick to a vodka martini," the professor said.
"You want that shaken or stirred sensei?"
"In here, I'll just settle for a clean glass."
As Hiro walked up to the bar, Cycilia gazed about with a frown forming on the woman's face. "Is something wrong?" Akashi asked.
"Is it my imagination," the sheep-eared woman responded, "or are you two the only humans in here?"
Navigating to the only gap at the bar, the assassin found himself between the whistler, a fellow with a face like a Siberian husky and a red bandana tied around his forehead, and a lizard-man with dark green scales. "Hey tender," he called.
From behind, a gruff voice growled "You're in my spot punk!"
Spinning about, Hiro faced a man covered in tan fur with large, brown splotches. Two small, knobby horns stuck up from the speaker's forehead. "I didn't know this was your spot," he replied, noting that customers nearby were edging away. "I was just ordering some drinks."
"Well you are in my spot you smooth-skinned punk," the angry customer responded.
"You got nerve trying to move in on our turf," the dog-faced man added.
"How about I buy the next round for you three?" Hiro asked as a forked tongue slithered out of the lizard-man's mouth.
Back at the table, Professor Akashi uttered a curse and started to stand when Cintilla beat him up. "I'll take care of things," she said.
"Uh Miss Nekome …"
"Don't worry professor," she quickly replied. "I can be diplomatic when the occasion calls for it."
Hiro's eyes darted around as the spotted man laughed, "You come in here wearing your fancy clothes, acting like you own the joint." Fingers reached out and flicked his bow tie. "You ain't gonna buy your way out of this."
Turning towards the lizard-man, the assassin slapped a hand on the counter and chuckled, "I've seen this scene at least a hundred times."
Reflected in the reptilian's eyes was the face of the creature behind him. "A young, naïve guy walks up to the bar and is surrounded by the local toughs who are going to beat the crap out of him," Hiro explained. "Only, he's with a Jedi Master who ends up smearing the toughs all over the place."
"Too bad I'm not with a Jedi Master." His elbow shot up, catching his horned opponent under the chin. While his free hand grabbed a fistful of the lizard-man's shirt, the point of his elbow smashed into the dog-man's muzzle; Hiro's fist flew forward, punching a scaled face and rocking the lizard-man on his heels. Snatching up a half full mug, the assassin hurled its contents into the spotted man's face and then brought the mug up as the dog-man took a swing. Flesh struck glass with a loud thunk; his opponent screamed and tightly clutched the injured hand.
Swiftly, Hiro pushed the horned man away with his foot while swinging the mug back; it struck the lizard-man square in his face. The assassin spun back on the dog-man just as a bar stool crashed into the back of a furry head. Cintilla held onto the stool and grinned at him. "I told you this place is great for blowing off steam."
A whoosh warned him as Hiro dodged the lizard-man's punch. Light glinted off of metal, and the assassin noted his opponent was armed with a pair of brass knuckles that bristled with sharp spikes.
The bounty hunter let the stool clatter to the floor as she regarded the now snarling dog-man. Rows of teeth gleamed and Cintilla could imagine the damage they would do. "Want to dance Rover?"
"Here kitty, kitty," the canine-faced man growled. As he lunged, the bounty hunter dipped her shoulder and lifted, flipping her opponent over.
"Down boy," she said as he crashed to the hard wood floor.
Picking himself up, the spotted man watched enraged as a bit of fun degenerated into a shameful debacle. He would lose all credibility around here unless quick action was taken. "Cantus Bellux," he chanted and the glow of magic surrounded his body. A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
"No fair using magic on a mundane," the other human said as a fist blazing with its own light buried itself in his gut. That blow knocked the air out of him while a second launched him into a wall.
Hiro continued to evade the lizard-man's punches until backed into a wooden column. Again the thug swung, a grin of confidence on his lips, only to strike the pole as the assassin ducked. Spikes sunk deep into the wood and stuck fast. The young man's fists pummeled his scaled adversary at will, finally finishing him off with a right hook.
Cintilla watched her companion deal with the lizard when a cloth wrapped about her throat. "You should never take your eye off an enemy," the dog-man gloated as the bandana twisted tighter. The woman's elbow slammed into his stomach until the grip on her throat loosened. Without hesitation, she turned and brought a knee up with brutal efficiency. Howling, her opponent fell to floor and writhed in agony.
"I said down," she remarked while tearing the bandana from her throat and tossing away. "And I meant down."
Panting for breath, Hiro was about to comment when he felt a presence behind him. The assassin's mouth went dry as he whirled about to stare at the pool playing, rhino-man's shirt. His gaze travelled up to find at an emotionless face glaring down. "Oh crap."
"I'm can't allow you to injure him," Professor Akashi said, the mage's hand still aglow with power.
"He's my bouncer," the bar tender called out. "Let 'em go. I don't need mages tearing up my bar."
The bouncer still glared down at Hiro as the professor responded, "We're just on our way out."
A shout of "Drop it!" followed by a yelp of pain drew all eyes to the back of the room. Cycilia stood over the man with the spotted hide, the heel of her shoe dug into the back of the beastman's hand. Whimpering, the mage's fist unclenched, releasing a wand. Quickly, she put her toe on top of it and slid the wand out of reach.
Hiro heard a deep rumble that was the rhino-man's voice. "You're him aren't you?" the bouncer asked. "You're that kid I've seen on the news reports."
"You must be mistaken," the assassin answered. "What would a fine, upstanding young man like that be doing brawling in a bar?"
--
A/N: And so another chapter ends. As I mentioned above, I don't expect to have as much time for writing so I'll probably go back to monthly updates.
The chapter heading is from Shakespeare's "Richard III" were Richard wakes from being visited by the ghosts of his victims.
Pateo - open