Magister Negi Magi is owned by Ken Akamatsu and Kodansha Ltd. Tokyo in Japan, and by Funimation and Kodansha USA in the United States, NOT by me.
Other characters are also the property of their respective creators and owners, not me.
Some characters created by kafka'sdragon for his 'Markham Chronicles Negima' story are used here with his permission. Kafka'sdragon often contributes ideas, paragraphs, or entire sections of a chapter, and such help is much appreciated.
The next several chapters are background shorts which didn't fit in the regular order of their base story. How they are related will be indicated in the individual chapters.
Chapter twenty-six is more closely related to kafka'sdragon's 'Markham Chronicles Negima' than my previous 'Ala Alba in the World of Magic,' and takes place sometime between 2005 and 2010. The character named Otto is his, and is used here with his permission.
'Information High' is from Macross Plus originally. The lyrics are available from various public sources, and I make no claim of ownership. Since Ala Alba, I have considered it a signature song for the Idol group Shirabe was in with the rest of Fate's harem female minions.
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"Being forgotten and alone is often a cause for sadness; occasionally though it can be a blessing in disguise."
- Shirabe Shido – diary entry
Not Always a Mage and Other Stories of Mahora
Chapter Twenty-Six: A Calm Winter Night
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When someone dies; especially if they have no progeny, or are engaged in activities that don't encourage or permit easy acknowledgement of such, their worldly possessions might be stored, or divided up by 'intelligent' vultures with various motivations, or if nothing else; simply thrown away.
Such was the case for a resident of Zephillia, in the Hellas Empire region of the Mundus Magicus.
Though there was someone to which his will bequeathed all that he possessed; such were the circumstances of his death that the person was was not able to come claim their inheritance.
Indeed; it would have been most unwise for them to try to do so.
As so it was that a small plastic disk, four and five-eighths-inches across and a thirty-second-inch thick, minus its original storage case which was lost at some point, came to be in Buenos Aires, Argentina, after a round-about trip across two worlds.
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Once; long ago, the man who called himself simply 'Otto,' had seen death in all its worst forms. He had even caused a number of those deaths.
Somehow though; seeing the death of someone who had been forgotten by their relatives was worse than those which still produced nightmares after the passage of nearly sixty years.
One day; like the body now being removed from where it had remained unnoticed for several days; he too would be carried, cold and stiff, out of the room he occupied as the manager of an apartment complex in one of the less-affluent areas of Buenos Aires.
Fortunately; it was the middle of winter, and it had been cool and cloudy the last few days, so the smell of death wasn't as bad as it might have been in the summer. If he summoned those who dealt with such things immediately, the apartment should be usable again before his employer complained overly much.
Turning to go do just that; Otto noticed a compact-disk, apparently knocked there by those from the city morgue, lying on the floor. There was no case nearby, and the label was faded, so he picked it up in order to place it on a shelf. As he started to do so, something compelled him to stop.
The dead person had no relatives that he knew of, and he would wind up cleaning the person's possessions out of the apartment anyway, so what harm was there in taking the disk and seeing what it contained? Perhaps the music would be interesting enough to provide a brief change in what was a pretty repetitive day-to-day existence.
Slipping the disk into his shirt-pocket, Otto closed the apartment's door and went to summon the cleaners.
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'Pop' music wasn't something Otto normally preferred. If not for the singing which began before he finally decided to stop the disk, he would have done so; then tossed it into one of the boxes he would use after the cleaners were done with the apartment.
"You know how to get eternal life
in the center of the lightning-speed waltz.
Feel your soul cut by a rusty knife
as you head for the self-destructive edge."
Magic... pure and simple, was the only word he could think of to describe the voice coming out of the speakers of his second-hand portable stereo.
"Our enlightenment is just floating in the core,
where we can spiritually go through the door.
We'll know how to get eternal life
while we catch the pulse from unknown satellites."
Sitting back; Otto closed his eyes and just let the unusual music wash over his body...
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"If we get the transient facts,
then we feel the info high.
If we get the transient facts,
then we are really free
to fly high
in space."
With hearing that was much more sensitive than that of most any other person who might be blind, Shirabe Shidou could not help noticing the music coming out of the manager's apartment as she walked into the building's lobby.
She was shocked, almost beyond belief; more by the music itself, than by the fact Otto was actually listening to that particular type of music.
"We know how to get an internal high
in the center of the lightning-speed waltz.
See our soul struggling to survive,
As we head down for the self-destructive edge."
Almost hypnotized by the sound, Shirabe closed her eyes, thinking about the past, and about those whose fates were currently unknown to her.
"Sayonara to intrusive noise.
No more childish play and no more toys.
We know how to get eternal life
while we feel and sense Mother Nature's strong might."
As the song went into its final refrain; Shirabe went forward and gently knocked on the apartment manager's door.
After a short pause; the music stopped. There was the sound of someone crossing the floor; then several clacks as the bolts were turned back before the door finally opened.
"Ah! Miss Shidou. What can I do for you this evening?"
Uncharacteristically nervous; Shirabe pointed into the apartment. "I don't mean to pry; but if you wouldn't mind telling me; where did you get that music from?"
Thinking Shirabe would have no real reason to make an issue out of the matter, Otto decided telling her the truth would be for the best. "Mister Silva passed away. I borrowed the disk when the people from the morgue took his body away. I plan to return it when I clean everything up for whatever relatives might come to make a claim."
After a quick bow, Shirabe rose up and gave Otto a hopeful look. "Please; if I might, could I listen to the disk with you? It reminds me of some good times from the past."
Realizing she had something to sweeten the request, Shirabe held up the bags she was carrying. "I know I've refused to do anything of the sort in the past; but I'll make dinner for you; if you'd like."
An initial, easy answer was tempered by knowing nothing else would ever come from Miss Shidou's request. Of course; he was beyond any physical considerations which might interest a youth; but if Shirabe was willing to sit down and enjoy a meal and music with him, even for a single evening, Otto had no reason to refuse. "Please come in, Miss Shidou. I welcome you and your companionship on this fine winter evening."
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For Otto; Shirabe's visit was one of the most pleasant evenings he'd had in longer than he could remember.
Before his companion finally left; he listened quietly as songs such as 'Utae! Requiem' and 'Canta Per Me' ran their course, then in rapt fascination as Shirabe softly accompanied the singing of the last song; 'Key of the Twilight,' with her own voice.
Long past was the time when he would have cared enough to wonder about why she knew the song so well.
That her voice was so pure; that she had consented to dine with him and that that night he slept the deepest, nightmare-free sleep he'd had in years was payment enough to keep him from ever asking how a singer with such a magical voice had come to live in a backwater apartment building in Buenos Aires.
tsuzuku
Author's Notes:
The person whose death is referred to is Zo Connel, as related in chapter fifteen of 'Ala Alba in the World of Magic.
The approximate dimensions of a CD.
Next: More singer and soldier.