Disclaimer:
Love Hina and Mahou Sensei Negima is the creative property of Ken Akamatsu, who created this wonderful anime/manga series. Shingetsugan Tsukihime and Fate/stay night is the creative property of TYPE-MOON. Anything not attributed to Akamatsu-san or TYPE-MOON belongs to their respective owners, such as references to Cowboy Bebop (the Swordfish II) that is a creation of Sunrise and Shinichiro Watanabe, BLEACH is a creation of Kubo Tite, and vice-versa. This story is written purely just for fun, guys; please for God's sake, don't sue me! I'm just a high school student with too much free time on his hands! On the other hand, any specific author created characters I created for this fic (despite how unoriginal they may be at times) are mine. So without further adieu, let's get on with the show!
The Surgeon General's Warning:
Read at your own risk. Multiple pairings inside folks, with KanaxKei and KanaxNegi, just to name a few! You never know what you're going to get so read on (I might even do some alternative stuff, if you know what I mean).
Blue Blue Glass Moon, Under the Crimson Air
I Wanna Go To A Place...
Chapter 42:
A Little Help
A Love Magister Hina Negima! fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards
"The destruction of my foes, blast them to dust with fury! Hadou Sanjuukyuu --- BAKAHATSU!"
The white sphere reiatsu clutched in the palm of her hand flared brilliantly as she struck her hand down at the Boss Hollow. The moment of that bright flash was like a hungry vacuum, consuming all sound till only a deadly silence remained. Then abruptly, the air between them exploded with a white-hot incinerating fire, the tumultuous power of the explosion flinging her clean from the epicenter of the blast radius.
Nimbly, Setsuna landed on her feet a safe distance away, shielding her face and eyes the best she could with her arms as the wind whipped her clothes and hair backwards, pushing back some of the encroaching fog by shear force. Questions arose in her frenetic thoughts at a kilometer per second, asking all the questions she could think of: Was it dead? Was that last kidou enough? Could she still fire off one more 'spell' with the remaining reiatsu she had left?
Dark debris and dust clouded past her, forcing her to squint for several minutes until at last the devastation began to lift. The acrid smell of smoke and the intense feeling of heat clung thickly against her hot, clammy perspiring flesh. Her breaths were coming out in ragged gasps as if she had been fighting for hours at her limits, and yet, it had only been a matter of minutes since this skirmish had began.
Yojimbo did not receive the same kind of training as miko, bushi, and the no-bushi. Her area of expertise lay --- elsewhere. The only sure-fire ways she could "bury" Hollows was by using kidou, which drained her reiatsu far too quickly, or use her very own Yuunagi, a named zanpakutou of considerable power. The power of her soul slayer should have enabled her to accomplish such a feat with greater ease, but alas, she did not know the true meaning of the techniques used by any of the other honored professions above her.
Somewhat darkly, the raven-haired girl noted that this one fact would inevitably lead to her undoing.
To the casual observer, there appeared to be no difference between the Zan Gan Ken technique of a yojimbo, a bushi, and a no-bushi. This facade was an illusion, and by the time it was possible for the observer to realize their grave error, it would already be too late. Of course, yojimbo were not supposed to know anything about kidou either. It was a taboo frowned upon, almost forbidden, in fact. To Setsuna's best knowledge, she was the only exception to the rule among her colleagues.
"Was that it? How pitiful; how disappointing. Not even a scratch," hissed a familiar voice in her ear, evidently unamused by the grating catch in its voice.
Before she could react, the tiled pavement beneath her feet erupted outwards with a earth shattering crack, a long sinuous arm wrenching her sharply upwards by the throat. She gasped desperately for breath, her eyes bulging like a fish out of water, as she rose higher into the air. The Hollow burst forth tacit a moment later from the ground in all of its glory, with the added effect of an unnaturally hyper-extended arm lifting her over thirty feet into the air.
Futilely, Setsuna thrashed about in its deadly grasp, clawing at the Boss Hollow's hand, even though she knew her chances of survival had just dropped to zero. There was no conceivable way she could break its hold around her throat because she needed to speak the incantations in order to use kidou. Her feeble human strength was no match for the malicious wraith, and she did not know any unarmed techniques that she could combine with her more than ample ki reserves.
The Hollow stared at her with no emotion, unfazed by the broiling hate flowing from her dark eyes that were virtually pitch-black orbs. "Struggle all you wish; you're only wasting what little air you have left."
Bastard! Was she going to die here like this? It was insufferable, absolutely unacceptable. After everything she had gone through...
Setsuna ceased her struggle, the burning hate in her eyes smoldering into blank emptiness, as her hands fell limply by her sides, brushing against the material of her uniform's skirt. Saliva dribbled out of the corners of her mouth, but she did not care, her gaze staring into space without purpose. The ugly thought had finally struck her:
Why am I fighting? Why should I struggle? Would not this be better off for everyone? Who in this world really needs me? What is waiting for me when I return back to that hollow dorm room set aside privately for myself, alone? Nothing. Nobody. I have nothing to return to save for the same condemning tenets of duty, the same loneliness.
Who would care if I did not return? Konoka-ojousama? Bah, she seems to remember me hardly, which is good. It makes my job as a Yojimbo that much easier. The end justifies the means. Hmph, Sempai would probably be furious to learn that she was robbed of the "privilege" to do the deed herself. My employers and the Kensai Association will no doubt lament the loss of such a huge investment in human resources.
Human, thought Setsuna, gnashing her teeth bitterly at the word. I --- I hate that word.
I am not one of them. I'll never be good enough in their eyes. Never. So what's the point? Why should I keep trying? They'll never accept me. Never. It's useless, completely useless.
And if Tatsumiya, that bloody raccoon girl, finds out about what I really am, what will she think? Will she feel betrayed? Of course, she will, and then she'll hate me, detest me too. Maybe --- maybe she already knew! That's why she sent me here! She must be in cahoots with Mo...Aoyama-sempai --- with everybody! They all want me to die! Nobody cares about me.
Nobody!
They all betrayed me.
I...
I hate myself! And I hate them too! It's not my fault I was born this way. Why can't they accept me? Haven't I done everything they've asked of me?
Why?
Why won't they love me?
"Tears, girl?" the Hollow rumbled to her. Its voice was once again laced with that unnatural concern that made her sick to her guts, even as the hot tears flowed down her cheeks beyond her control; her gross weakness and shame visible for all to see. "Hmm, something sad must've happened, but that's okay. Everything's going to be fine soon. Soon; you'll be in a better place, amongst true friends; friends who will love you always..."
Oh, how absurd. A Hollow was talking to her about love? She wanted to laugh so much at the utter ridiculousness of the notion.
"...and all you have to do --- is give up."
'Give up'? Me?
"We're all here for you. Come with us --- Sakurazaki Setsuna, She-Who-Is-Loved-By-None; She-Who-Hates-Herself. Come with us."
Setsuna closed her eyes, relaxing the tension in her rigid body so that it now hung completely limp in the air, pale and cold to the touch. The pressure around her throat did not increase or slacken. She was still suffocating at the same pace, her head swimming in delirium and heartache. She wanted so desperately to be loved. She did not want any of this --- pain anymore. She wanted it all to go away.
And for a moment, the power of her voice returned to her seemingly, allowing her to speak the words she wanted to say, the words from the bottom of her empty soul:
"I give-"
"DAINAMIKKU! EEENNN-TORII!" interrupted another voice suddenly with a shocking bright, bombastic cry.
Before anyone knew it, a vaguely human blur crashed through the Hollow's extended arm, severing it instantly. The wraith reeled with a pained cry as it instinctively withdrew the remnants of its tattered limb. Bright white particles of purified spirit energy emerged rapidly from the disintegrating half still holding onto Setsuna before it shattered completely into shower of scintillating sparks. Without the arm holding her up, gravity conveniently took over.
The tiled pavement below was rushing up to meet out of the corner of her eye. She was helplessly falling, the lack of blood flow to her limbs had left them temporarily lethargic and unresponsive. Instead of suffocating to death, it seemed she would split the back of her head open on the pavement or break her neck, much to her dark chagrin. However, this fate was not meant to be for her either. It was right then when he showed up, just in the nick of time.
He caught her, one arm hooking her under her knees and the other catching across the back by her shoulder. With a muffled grunt, his body bore the brunt of her momentum, his arms and knees shook and reverberated beneath the great force, but incredibly they held against the odds. She coughed strongly, wheezing for the air, the oxygen her body ravenously demanded, gobbling up every breath she took.
"Phew, that was close! Too close! You okay, Ojou-san?" he asked her. His voice was warm and friendly, a steady, firm baritone tempered with a faint touch of weariness, the kind that came from a good day's worth of hard work.
The young man's voice, his tone, the warmth of his heart beating through his body: it was all so hauntingly familiar to her. Even the way she was being held felt like deja vu, a nostalgic fervor. Seized by an eerie curiosity, Setsuna struggled to lift her face, so she could see the face of the one who had robbed her from the bosom of death.
She stared in awe.
They hardly shared the same face, and yet, it was as if she was staring at the same person all over again. He had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, aided by spectacles with large rectangular lenses that lent him an almost scholarly air. Perhaps, his sight was not perfect, but his heart was crystal clear. His frank open smile bathed her with a sense of peace, stilling the raging beast within her own wounded heart.
Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to ask his name arose, and Setsuna desperately tried to speak, yet the only sound that escaped was a harsh, pitiful rasp that made her wince with pain. Who was he? Why was he so much like that other young man?
Sorata Arisugawa: the boy, the young man trained by the teachings of the Shinmei Ryu who became a yojimbo --- a bodyguard, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve.
And the other who she could not forget...
Arashi Kishyuu: the girl, the young woman trained by the teachings of the Shinmei Ryu as well who became a bushi --- a warrior, the woman who could see underneath the underneath.
They treated each other like brother and sister, though they had no direct relation. They were the ones who had accepted her unconditionally; she the unworthy, the undesirable, the abominable hanyou who had been dumped on their front door step with little more beyond ceremony. They were the ones who had seen to her training as a yojimbo. They were meant for each other of this she was certain, and yet it was not meant to be...
They were both dead because of her.
Now, just as suddenly, Setsuna did not want to know his name. She was frightened. Good people: the ones important to her were all cursed by her. All she did was bring ruin to others and she wished not to repeat that sickly twist of fate again.
Alas, the Hollow had other plans in mind, and it definitely wanted to know who was this boy that had caused it so much pain. It demanded in a great thundering voiced, seething with fury:
"Kisama! Who the hell are you?"
The young man frowned openly at the insult, the warmth in his face coalescing into a determined scowl as he returned the Hollow's burning baleful gaze unflinchingly. He was not afraid in the slightest bit.
"It's not polite to ask for somebody's name like that, you know, Hollow-san," he shouted back at the wraith in an admonishing tone, like he were reprimanding a misbehaving colleague, much to Setsuna's shock.
Was he out of his mind? 'Hollow-san'?
"What did you say?"
"I said-"
"Did you just lecture me and call me 'Hollow-san,' kusogaki?"
"Whoa, whoa! You're getting way out of line. You didn't need to call me that. Man, can't you see your friends in the fog're all riled up too? And yup, I sure did."
The Boss Hollow glanced around at its surroundings, and sure enough, the black silhouettes of the other Hollows danced angrily in the concealing veil of the fog. The wall of blue flames behind it, created by the girl's earlier attack, had long since dissipated, leaving an open avenue of attack from all directions into the plaza once again. The other idiots apparently wanted in on the festivities now, and they were quite hungry.
Fresh human flesh always did make the devoured soul go down easier.
"Anyway, I've got a lot of names to be honest, but to the people who know me..." the boy paused in mid-sentence, flashing a cheery smile that strangely gleamed for an instant with an audible twinkling sparkle. This only irritated the Boss Hollow even more. It was going to enjoy tearing that smile off the human's face.
"It's Keitaro the Nice Guy! And if you want the long run of it: Urashima Keitaro, eighteen-years-old, and a first-year ronin!"
To Be Continued...
Author's Note
Accelerate update! Hey y'all, Episode 42 is here! More explosions, action drama, world development, and character development! And whad'dya know I even had some character cameos from X/1999 and/or Tsubasa Resevior Chronicles. Setsuna's issues just keeps on piling up. Just what happened in her childhood exactly? Did she really call out to the Hollows? And dang, is that Keitaro being, I dare say, genuinely BADA--! for once? How are things going to play out now?
Well, maybe we'll find out on the next episode Glass Moon-desu!
Reviewers and readers alike, I'd like to thank you all very much for your continued patronage. Remember, I encourage each and everyone of you to feel free to comment, review, and/or discuss the story. Your comments can really make a difference, I assure you, and if you're up to it, feel free to ring me up on AIM, or even send me an e-mail (although you really don't need to boost my ego too often). You know how to get in touch with the maestro here.
So without further adieu, that wraps it up, folks (double header this week, so keep an eye out): Baka Rangers, ASSEMBLE!
Omake!
Naze Nani Glass Moon Desu
Terminology Check!
I've been using these terms for a while, but if you haven't figured 'em out by now, researched 'em, or I haven't touched up on 'em yet, here's some brief summaries/hints of/to 'em:
Yojimbo - Approximately means "Bodyguard." (More info in the coming chapters)
Miko - Approximately means "Priestess." (More info in the coming chapters)
Bushi - Approximately means "Warrior." (More info in the coming chapters)
No-bushi - Approximately means "Field Warrior," but it is used more in the sense of "Great Warrior" in relation to the type of Japanese great/long sword the Nodachi. (More info in the coming chapters)
Kensai Association - Approximately means "(The) Sword Saints Association." Kensai on its own means "Sword Saint(s)". They're the paramilitary wing of the Magic Associations in Japan and are composed of venerated "samurai" families, such as the Aoyama clan. Field agents from the Kensai typically fall under the four categories of yojimbo, miko, bushi, or no-bushi in accordance with their speciality. However, there are some --- exceptions.
Anyhow, that's that for now, but where would we be without the...
Episode Preview!
Chapter 43:
Superman?
"Keh, damned good-for-nothing. Your parents ought to be ashamed of you, not getting into college on your first try."
Tsudzuku!