Disclaimer:

Sheo Darren is very proud to be known as a Filipino...

"CNN Late Breaking News: An unidentified man has snuck himself onto the International Space Station Independence and has taken the entire crew hostage with a shock and awe paper clip. His demands are simple and as follows: 'Give me all your money and your valuables!' As to his planned method of escape, he claims he will use a homemade parachute and an anting-anting (amulet) to jump out the space station and reenter the atmosphere. Stay tuned for further details..."

...Or maybe not. Sigh...

The usual stuff, I guess. Shaman King is not mine. But Rione Asuka Hunter, The Romancers, Rune Minor and Millie are (why did I ever forget to mention the last two?) Oh, and hello to JSF: I don't know you, but I know you. Tee hee!

Previously, on "The Romancers"...

An angry Marco. A frightened Millie. A cool Rune. Jeanne and Lyserg are left all alone to themselves. 'Nuff said.

The Romancers

Set One: Shaman King

By: Sheo Darren

Iron Maiden and Dowser Knight

Chapter Four

Thoughts Courtesy The X-Laws

The girl in black slipped past the burly X-Laws at the front entrance with the ease and grace of a ballerina. It was too easy: With no disguise or alibi whatsoever, she had just walked inside and flashed the unsuspecting Drake Malloy a big smile of greeting. He had never known who smiled at him or what had hit him.

And now she was inside the system, and it didn't know she was there, would never know until it was too late.

The backpack she bore suddenly began twitching. "Hey, cut it out," the girl scolded whatever it was inside the bag. "Someone might notice us."

It –or they, whatever the presence in the bag was– promptly stopped moving.

...Was a cutely pitched voice piping up, squeaking, "Haro?" or "Hello?"

This was the tricky part. The opposition had a psychic in their ranks, and even if she was far beyond whom she seemed to be, giving the other team a clue to her whereabouts was an invitation to disaster. So the girl concentrated on thinking of her least favorite animated series, a phony smile on her face, letting her feet do the walking mechanically, her limbs impelled not by her mind but by sheer indoctrinated and practiced muscles.

The man called Maestro was secluded inside a dark room. Outwardly he showed no signs of life, looking far more like an oversized puppet than the powerful psychic he was. It was hard to believe he was very busy right now.

But he was. His powerful mind subtly scanned the thoughts of the population within the hotel he guarded, searching for any trouble. Only a moment and a thought needed, and the target would be completely paralyzed by his tremendous psychic will.

Right now he invisibly hovered within the mind of a girl dressed in black. For a personal reason, people who wore dark clothing attracted Maestro's suspicion more easily. It had something to do with the evil Asakura Hao, whose black-clad minions once shattered the body and nearly broke the will of a young man. But the boy had survived –if one called imprisonment inside a plastic cage for the rest of his life 'survival'– and he had become who he was: Maestro.

There was nothing to be gathered from the girl he was observing, though: Just another one of those fluffy-brained kids who liked anime. He nearly spat when he saw the disgusting scene playing inside her mind.

Another rabid yaoi bishounen fan? What nonsense is getting into the minds of the youth?

There were bigger fish to fry than this. Maestro turned his will to scan in a different direction.

The almost-undetectable presence disappeared, and the girl sighed in relief. She just hated plot-less bishounen stories –including a lot of CLAMP anime, but especially Yu Watase's Fushigi Yuugi– but in this case it proved a very good cover.

Again that tiny squeak, followed by several more in rapid succession: Whatever it was in the bag, it wasn't alone.

"Hello?"

"Haro!"

"Lacus!"

"Rione!"

"Romancers!"

Rione Asuka Hunter grinned to herself: "Now I've got the jazz."

"Uh, don't you think Maiden-sama's hair was nice, Miss Rune?"

"Marco doesn't seem to approve. Don't you, Marco?"

"..."

The only reason Millie was enthusiastic right now was because Rune Minor was there, a shield against Marco. Normally she wouldn't even dare anything but breathe when the scary ex-leader of the X-Laws was around her. Millie was rightfully scared stiff of Marco, as if he might eat her or something equally horrid.

A likeable possibility, so don't you laugh about it.

But Rune was Millie's friend. Lyserg had asked the former shaman to keep an eye on the young X-Laws, a naïve ditz at times and not much of a fighter (though not that helpless). To the surprise of those who knew her as cold and uncaring, Rune went one farther and became the coolly detached but protective ally to an admittedly lonely Millie. Their pairing was very strange, but somehow their alliance worked just fine enough.

Marco was radiating a burning aura of hostility. Rune returned the favor by giving him a literally cold shoulder with her spiritual aura. Unfortunately for Millie, she was feeling the effects of that war: The poor girl would feel cold in one moment and then get scalded the next. Not a fun situation.

Nevertheless this was not going to keep her good spirits down. Millie had adopted the very daunting and hazardous task of making Rune smile as her own personal mission. So far she still hadn't succeeded, but like her onee-chan Meene she was not giving up so easily.

Aside, she wondered what Lyserg-kun and Jeanne-kun were doing. Millie knew very well that her friend was very much in love with the Iron Maiden and knew the reasons why. Jeanne was beautiful beyond belief, excessively kind and saintly in aura, a goddess given mortal shape and life. She so perfectly complemented Lyserg's own charm and virtues; it was like they were simply Fated to be together. They made such a sweet and adorable couple: The Iron Maiden and her dowser knight.

And so Millie was envious of the angel with the silvery-mane, because she also liked a certain green-haired dowser very much...

For his part, Marco was suffering in his own private version of hell on earth. This was not due to that annoying excuse-for-an-X-Laws twit or even the presence of his arch nemesis Rune Minor (detested for the simple reason that she existed in the same dimensional plane as he did). It was wholly stemming from a certain emerald-eyed green-haired boy who was the love interest of the girl Marco had been taking care of all his life.

The greatest fear of all fathers with daughters is that their dear little darling would end up with a boy who was exactly like him in his younger years.

And though Lyserg was nothing like a younger version of himself, there was enough about him that Marco worried about.

It was easy to understand why Jeanne was attracted to him. Lyserg was handsome to the point of being called pretty, but always in a masculine way. His quiet, low-key personality piqued most people he met. Though he made few friends, he was fiercely loyal to them, willing to sacrifice himself to protect them. He was courageous and strong-willed, and strangely enough for a moody wanderer, he was also of a kind disposition and a beautifully innocent heart.

Jeanne was not the only one who had been attracted to his orbit; Meene, Millie, his power spirit Morphine, and even the vaunted Rune Minor were just among the few. Bond, James Bond indeed, if only in the way women adored him.

Hand-in-hand to this attraction was Jeanne herself. Her solitary upbringing and the stringent preparation had left her little time or space to call her own. Always she had to be Mistress Jeanne, the Iron Maiden; she was never Jeanne, a gray-blue haired, crimson-eyed girl. Always she must endure the needling pain within the claustrophobic prison of her namesake. Always she must suffer in the name of God and the betterment of mankind. The piano or the rose garden was her only retreat, and then only sparsely. Jeanne was the perfect model of the famous Saint Ignatius: An eternally sacrificing servant.

Marco had carefully cultivated her growth, tending to her as a master gardener would his prized orchid. Jeanne was his most valued possession in the world, for the simple fact that he had denied himself so much. She was the only thing left to Marco to call his own...

...And seeing that one last personal possession drifting away from him and into the arms of this- this mere boy was not conducive to Marco's state of well-being.

Jeanne was not supposed to be prone to human desires and weaknesses. She was as close to not being human as any person could be without completely sacrificing her humanity. She was chosen by divine grace to be the shining symbol of the crusade against evil. She was as far from all the others as an angel was from a mortal. Jeanne was the Iron Maiden, blessed untouchable, the inviolable chalice, the long-suffering angel.

Yet somehow, just as surely as day replaces night, the impenetrable defenses of the Iron Maiden had been pierced. A human heart still beat within that cold envelope of steel; a human soul still lived within those red eyes. Jeanne was still human, a girl.

Jeanne could still fall in love.

Not so long ago, Rune Minor had thought herself incapable of caring for anyone anymore. With the mantle of darkness she had taken for her own and the many sins that lay upon her as heavy as a material cross, it was little wonder she felt as if she would never be clean again.

For all that she had done left a stain upon her, their indelible mark obliterating any evidence that her soul had once pure white and beautiful.

The Grim Reaper. That was what the followers of Asakura Hao had called her. She was the woman in black, one who bore the implement of the harvest of souls, the silent attendant to the deceptively young façade of the renegade Shaman Lord, the iron right hand that punished and rewarded as requested.

Yes, requested, because Hao was not Rune's master, and she was not his minion. No command of his would ever beckon her to do what was asked of her. No threat could stir her, not even death fazed her. Hao had known this when he had first encountered the pale specter in black, had known that she would never bow down to anyone or anything. Rune retained total command of herself and her dignity. She would never be broken to his will.

All the more sad, for all she had done in Hao's name was by her own free will. All the deaths, all the horrors: It was all by her hand and mind and permission.

Sometimes the nightmares made their way past her defenses. Sometimes she would sit bolt awake in her bed, just barely escaping the terrors that grasped at the very edges of her consciousness. Sometimes she wished they had caught her then and there and ended her misery.

Sometimes she wondered if she still was human.

For years Rune toiled under the guise of Death. For years she wielded her tool to reap what whirlwind was sown by the thunder called down by Hao. She was supposed to have been among those accompanying the renegade Shaman in the last battle. Her absence, one that helped in no small deal towards the defeat of Hao, was due to the most ordinary of things.

Rune had caught a very bad flu.

Some might have found it funny that the fate of the world lay in the hands of a bacterium penetrating the defenses of the human immune system. Rune herself wondered what this omen meant, sick as she was in bed and unable to do much more than care for herself and rest.

And so the new era had come, with the defeat of Hao and a new future beckoning to ordinary folk and Shamans and spirits alike. Rune found herself out of place in this new world: Without purpose, without reputation. She was forgotten and as good as gone.

Then she had met Lyserg Diethyl.

She had hated him at first, hated him far more than even the despise she bore for Marco. He was not the one who defeated Hao, he was nothing much more than a potential largely untapped, and yet Lyserg instilled in Rune a deep anger she could not explain. In this rage she attacked the X-Laws without abandon.Millie and Marco had fought her to a standstill before reluctantly allowing Lyserg to step in and face the Grim Reaper alone.

Their battle was awesome at least, all the power and anger Rune could summon against the mighty archangel that was now Morphine and the determination in those emerald eyes of this green-haired dowser.

She had been defeated, of course, and quietly awaited her fate. The X-Laws were not known for sparing Hao's minions. And Rune didn't care much about living anymore. Having known death for a lifetime, was a last dance with an old friend to be feared?

And so she was surprised to see the hand beckoning to her, the weary but honest smile that Lyserg gave her and the fateful question he posed.

"You know no other purpose. Would you like to join me, Miss Rune, and find a new purpose for yourself?"

And Rune had done something she had never done for long years past.

She had smiled.

"Yes."

Sheo's Thoughts: And so this is a rather long-winded chapter which is meant to portray the thoughts and personalities of Rione, Millie, Marco and Rune. I hope you'd bear up with me, and for good reason: Chapter Five is pure unadulterated romantically-inclined fluff, almost entirely Lyserg and Jeanne. Do they admit it so? Do they dither around the subject? And when will Rione ever run out of smart-aleck comments?

On a side note: Guess where Rione got her cute little 'jazz' quote? If you guessed "The A-Team", then you're either very well-informed or very old. Care for a round with Mr. T, anyone? "I pity the fool, who messes with me!"

Be afraid of whatever it is within the bag. Be very afraid...

Hi to Athena Asamiya, Lone Wolf, Blackheart Zero, Fluffychans, JSF, Illuminet, Angel-wing2, Kitsune Asakura, and all those fellow fanfiction.net I read, review and admire!