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
The New Life at Mahora...
Chapter 55:
A Formal Challenge
A Love Magister Hina Negima! fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards
Motoko Aoyama supposed she could have been somewhere else better doing something useful, like training, instead of wasting time here in the classroom. There were a good thirty minutes left until homeroom started, which would then lead right into English, according to her schedule anyway. However, there was still one last formality in her agenda that remained to be settled before her "new" school year here at Mahora Academy could begin in earnest.
As amusing as it had been to frighten the abomination, the task of introducing herself formally in front of the class remained to be done. In fact, she had little knowledge of her classmates, and frankly was not particularly concerned to learn. The identities of the two most important persons in this room had since been engraved into her long memory. How could she forget them after everything they have done to her?
Sakurazaki Setsuna. Konoe Konoka. I'll never forgive them for their --- sins, thought the dark-haired girl grimly with a repressed snarl. How she longed to take her vengeance on them, but for now, she must wait. The world was in a constant motion, a delicate balance of chaos and order, and if she bided her time long enough, an opportunity would surely arise. After all, the wheels of fate had already been set in motion long ago.
And when that time comes, I will have my revenge.
The rushing sound of the classroom's door sliding open detracted her away from her dark thoughts and to the immediate reality of things. Masking her presence instinctively, Motoko surpressed her ki and reiatsu as such that she could pass for the many inanimate desks in the dimly room, and from the relative shadows in the back, she could observe unnoticed. Only someone actively looking for her could actually find her because even she could not pass truly for the dead, of course.
In the orange-brown haze of dawn's brightening light, two girls stepped into the room: one leading and the other --- curiously enough --- following rather closely, almost as if she were trying to be a shadow. She did not recognize the former who sported glossy raven hair tied back in a low ponytail with a red ribbon, carrying herself with a grave deadly air, like a black panther on the prowl. Her sharp hazel brown eyes were watchful of everything, sweeping the classroom several times as if searching for something, before she came to a stop by the first desk in the row of desks by the windows.
As for the latter, Motoko would recognize her anywhere: the bastard hanyou of the Uzoku, Setsuna Sakurazaki.
The cursed half-breed girl was even carrying a shinai bag with her today, but she knew better than to think it was just some shinai in there. Reaching out with higher senses, the heiress to the Shinmei Ryu instantly felt the distinctive calming hum that Yuunagi, the aptly named "The Calm of Dusk," gave off with its own reiatsu. All zanpakutou gave off a unique spirit pressure generated by their natural spirit force, which allowed for easy identification of such prized swords, but at the same time was a gruesome handicap. Those who acquired such blades trained for years in an effort to control properly such a power, a skill that would be crucial to eventually attaining the soul slayer's powerful bankai.
It was also a skill that Sakurazaki was never taught, ever.
"Pa-Pardon me, Kanako-sama, but is there-" stuttered Setsuna uncertainly. The meek formal address raised a few eyebrows on Motoko's part. She could have understood if it was for a member of the Konoe house, but surely, this hard girl was not from such a highborn family. Besides, the Konoe's preferred "soft" children, harmless and perfectly benevolent at first glance when in reality...
Kanako responded gruffly, shoving a finger towards the desk. "Do you know who sits here, Karas?"
Eh? "Karas"? What does that mean? Motoko pondered. Why is this girl addressing the hanyou in such a manner?
"This desk?"
"Yes, this particular desk."
"I'm not sure what you mean, Kanako-sama."
"Tsk, don't you ever pay attention during role call?"
Setsuna lowered her gaze visibly in shame, her cheeks darkening with red. It was another astonishing development in the demon girl's behavior. She treated this Kanako person, certainly a mere commoner, as if she were her better.
"Iie, Kanako-sama."
"Ugh, whatever. I guess, even a yojimbo like you of the oh-so-proud Kensai Association trained by the oh-so-great Shinmei Ryu wouldn't have noticed unless it had bitten you in the backside, Karas," Kanako scoffed, rolling her eyes.
Motoko frowned in disbelief. She could not believe what she had just heard: Karas. Yojimbo. The Kensai Association. Her honorable school, the legacy she would one day inherit, the Shinmei Ryu. And on top of that, blatant disrespect for HER school. All of this had been mentioned in the span of one sentence by this common girl!
Oh, no: this was not just some mere coincidence. Somebody in this room knew a thing or two about the real world, the true world that proud, noble warriors like herself were guardians of, and had fought for generations to protect the common folk from its horrific nightmares. This sort of information was far from common knowledge and was treated as such as mere fantasy, fairy tales to scare children at night, just before bedtime.
How this girl had acquired such knowledge was up to the paranoid imagination, but at this moment, there was only one source that Motoko could verify for certain. This particular source was standing in the exact same classroom as her, and it was taking every ounce of self-control she had not to fly into murderous rage. She had done it again. It had to be her! That traitorous cur!
Setsuna Sakurazaki had betrayed them again.
"For-Forgive me, Kanako-sama," the demoness apologized swiftly for her perceived shortcoming. "I should've-"
Kanako cut her off with a simple dismissive nod that would have set Setsuna drowning under a wave of submissive shame, if it were not the calm, composed light in her eyes. It seemed to say that she really was not displeased with her, after all. "Enough. I did say we had a lot of work to do, and I'm not going to have you wasting time by groveling at me, understood, Karas?"
"Gomen nasai, Kanako-sama. I-"
"And stop trying to be so spinelessly servile to me already, apologizing all the time, trying to follow me like a shadow. If you're going to be my servant, then learn to behave with some dignity. Who you are isn't just a reflection of yourself, but a reflection of me and the Urashima family, Sakurazaki Setsuna!"
The Urashima family? Who are they? This common --- peasant, Urashima Kanako speaks so highly of herself, as if she were from a noble samurai family! thought Motoko indignantly. How dare she disrespect the Shinmei Ryu, the legacy that the Aoyama Clan has labored for generations to build into the awesome power it has become today.
"...H-Hai, Kanako-sama."
"Ugh, whatever. Looks you still need more work. Maybe Keitaro-niisan will have more luck putting some spine back into you. I don't know what broke you, but whoever or whatever it was --- che! I'd love to beat them into a pulp for making my life so much more troublesome!"
The Aoyama heiress --- twitched, but held her peace. She watched with grim fascination as Sakurazaki blanched visibly with a horror-stricken expression, before she suddenly grabbed a stunned Kanako by the shoulders. The poignant thudding sound of their two school bags hitting the floor punctuated the moment. There was a wild look in her dark brown eyes, making it quite clear that the following words she uttered were serious:
"Ka-Kanako-sama! Please... Please, don't speak of such brazen words. It's foolishness, Kanako-sama. What you speak is the difference of Heaven and Earth! She'd kill you, destroy you --- ob-obliterate you from the spot-"
Motoko laughed inwardly, the aghast, stunned look on the proud Urashima girl's face was priceless. She looked positively insulted, a metaphorical sucker punch to the gut, as an indignant flame ignited in her hazel brown eyes. Her expression contorted into a feral snarl that sent Sakurazaki reeling back with a gasp.
"K-Ka-Kanako-sama, I'm sorry! I-"
"'The difference of Heaven and Earth'? 'SHE'? Do you think so lightly of me, Sakurazaki Setsuna?" Kanako hissed at the fearful girl, balling her hands into tight fists. She could not believe Setsuna had just said --- those --- words to her. HER of all people! She was not powerless like those other fools, she had the conviction, she had the power, and she could protect what was hers with that strength and more. "Do you think I'm that weak?"
"No! Not at all, but-"
"But WHAT? I've never lost a fight in my entire life! Time and time again, they've beaten me down, but I'm still standing. I. DON'T. LOSE."
"...But you don't understand-"
"Who is this SHE, Setsuna? Tell me! And I'll prove it to you that I'm strong!" she shrieked angrily, seizing the girl by the arms. Sakurazaki gasped, wincing visibly in pain at the death grip Kanako exerted on her arms. It was the best piece of entertainment Motoko had seen all morning.
Of course, the proud kendoka supposed it was about time she intervened. It would not do in the slightest bit to have someone else tear apart the abomination, the honor of which belonged solely to her. Besides, a small lesson was in order to teach Kanako Urashima the difference between "Heaven and Earth."
"That would be me, Urashima Kanako," Motoko announced formally, as she rose to her feet, stepping out from behind her desk and into the "limelight."
The reaction was immediate and absolute. Quickly, Kanako broke away from the half-demon, whirling about to face her with an expression torn by bewilderment and a raging violent fury. Disbelief was etched into the Urashima girl's smoldering gaze, unable to accept that some "interloper" was eavesdropping on her private exchange the entire time. Motoko answered with a thin smile, watching bemusedly as Setsuna gasped, trembling visibly in fear at the mere sight of her.
"Se-Sempai... Mo...Ao-Aoyama-sempai!"
"'Sempai'?" said Kanako aloud, shooting a quick sharp glance back at the trembling girl, before turning her full attention back on the tall girl's approach.
"Ho, you're still addressing me as such after all these years, hanyou?"
That airy, formal accent...! Even though And she knows that Sakurazaki is a half-demon too. "Oh great, there's another one of you from Kensai Association going to this school too? I should've figured."
The Aoyama heiress promptly turned the piercing gaze of her steel-green eyes on the raven-haired girl, causing Kanako to rear back just a notch with a faint cringe. "Be silent, you common peasant. You should know how to behave in the presence of your betters. Speak only when you're spoken to, that is the way of commoners --- unless you wish to be treated like the gutter trash you truly are."
Dead silence enveloped the classroom, punctuated only by the breaths of those present. Setsuna feared the worst, and she knew that even then words could not describe the nightmare slowly taking shape here. She might not have known Kanako for long, but she could tell that the proud Urashima girl would not stand for such patronizing treatment --- ever --- to her person or anyone related to her family, as Setsuna herself was tied to in her strange arrangement. Yesterday's crisis was playing out all over again, except the tables had turned, the roles reversed. If this continued...
"Who --- the hell --- do you think you are?" Kanako hissed, completely oblivious of the certain doom she was headed towards.
Motoko answered casually, brushing off the deadly gleam in those hazel brown eyes with nonchalance. There was no way she was going to be intimidated by some common stray. "Aoyama Motoko, the heiress to the Shinmei Ryu, and if I'm not mistaken --- Student Number Thirty-Three of Class Two-A."
"A last minute transfer, huh? No wonder I didn't see you the other day when I got finished cowing the whole lot of these scum-"
"From what I understand, there's only one --- make that two scumbags present in this room, and you're not in any position to make such a judgment-"
"Urashima Kanako, Student Number Thirty-Two of Class Two-A, and you need to get off your high samurai a when other people are talking to you, Aoyama-teme."
"Hmph, how low and common. You really are gutter trash. That must be why you're associating with that abomination behind you, isn't it?"
"You know, back in Kitsusho Academy that would've warranted as fighting words-"
"If this was Kyoto, I would've cut you into ribbons long before we had this disgusting-"
"You wanna go, B----?"
"Oh? Is that a formal challenge?"
"DAME! Don't do it; I beg of you, Kanako-sama, please ---don't it," shouted Setsuna frightfully, not a word of which Kanako cared to listen. The only thing that mattered to her at this point was adding a new grudge to her list of things to do here at Mahora Academy. Certainly, she had her fun with those two annoying redheads and their friends, but she still had to settle some scores with Evangeline A.K. McDowell and the rest of her ilk.
Motoko Aoyama, however, might just have to take priority.
"Oh yeah? Watch me, Karas! Keitaro-niisan said I can fight as much as I want as long as I fix what I break, and you know what? I want to break ol' Aoyama-teme's hands just to see exactly what all you dogs of the Mage's Association are capable of. Shinmei Ryu. The Kensai Association. Bah! It doesn't make a difference to me because at the end of the day you're still dogs at the beck and call of those mages."
"Kana-!"
"So, you accept, I see?" Motoko murmured with a thin, tight smile. Fools would be fools, since only a fool would dare brand her a dog of the corrupt, impotent Magic Association. The warriors of the Kensai Association were not dogs, and in time, they would come to understand her grand vision as well. Still, she was a little impressed by this girl's knowledge of "The Occult," and the black-haired girl supposed she could enjoy crushing this one's misplaced pride about the same, despite the trivial effort it would require. "Well, I suppose, we'll have something to look forward to this spring semester, after all."
"Heeeeeeee? This spring semester? What do mean by that?" Kanako wanted to fight now.
"After we graduate this spring and commence ourselves as Class Three-A, we're having a scheduled field trip to Kyoto, of course; my 'hometown.'"
"So we're going to Kyoto: big deal. What's this difference between me grinding you to a pulp now in this stupid place and me grinding you to pulp on your own turf?"
"Ah, as expected of a common peasant, you misunderstand this very grave business."
"What?"
Motoko turned about and called back, striding gracefully back to her desk like a lioness on the prowl, "Oi! Bakemono-dono, you've learned enough of our ways, and since you don't seem to be particular about giving away information, why don't you explain it to your new mistress?"
She said no more after that and melted back into scenery, unassuming and commonplace, an indistinguishable threat despite the rows of empty seats. Grudgingly, even Kanako had to admit she would never have spotted the blasted Aoyama heiress unless she had been actively looking for her. This was different from the art of stealth taught by her family, which had many uses as befitting for its purpose, including reconnaissance, spying, and of course, assassination.
If she was not mistaken, Aoyama was not trying to hide in the traditional sense; she simply was being and that was frightening. With every passing second Kanako reflected upon the samurai girl's behavior, she realized this girl very likely had no qualms about cutting down a man in broad daylight. Women and children were treated the same way with equal indiscrimination. She had no fear of anything whatsoever. Those piercing eyes of hers, an unwavering steel green calm as the waters of a still lake, were the eyes of --- power...absolute power.
In mind, body, and spirit, Motoko Aoyama was "Judge, Jury, and Executioner."
"Setsuna, she was serious about slicing me to ribbons earlier, wasn't she?" Kanako asked aloud in a somber voice, the gravity of the situation finally settling on her shoulders. She was fitting the pieces of the puzzle together: why Setsuna had tried to stop her, the things she had said in anger, and the things Aoyama had said plainly without restraint in the slightest.
Oh, what a heavy weight it was too! Keitaro was going to mother her to death when he heard about this particular brilliant blunder she had made. In fact, he would be the first fool to come running through the door to prostrate himself at Aoyama's mercy in an effort to entreat her favor, fumbling through his words as usual when he was panicking. Setsuna knew the questions she was asking, the questions that should be asked, and the answers to those absolutely crucial questions. This "dispute" Kanako had gotten herself into was on a different level from the child's play "war" she had embroiled herself into with the entire class of 2-A, the faculty, and hopefully, all of Mahora Academy.
So when the present demon girl, who in her "humble" opinion had only gained her dear brother's "fancy" out of pure --- whatever, did not reply to her, the act aggravated Kanako Urashima. With an ominous huff, she whirled about face, intending to give the infernal Sakurazaki girl a piece of her mind. Of course, she did not really deserve it, but Kanako had no other available targets in the immediate vicinity she could use. Aoyama was definitely out of the question and...
"...what the..." the hazel-eyed girl murmured as she was struck dumb by the sight that greeted her.
Setsuna Sakurazaki was --- shamed, disgraced, and loathing --- not of others --- but herself. A blade of grass of could have toppled her at this point, carried by the most gentle of breezes, as she stood limply, hanging like a doll on invisible threads. Her complexion was dark and ashen. The faint spark in those dark brown orbs had gone out, listless and glassy, while her bangs fell about like a veil.
She spoke in a raspy whisper, so slight that Kanako had to strain her ears just to hear the words, "I've --- I've failed again."
"What?"
"I-I --- I'll try to... I promise... I promise..."
"What's the matter with you?"
"I'm...sorry, Ka-K-Kana-ko-sama."
Setsuna was trembling, doing her best to choke back the sobs between clenched teeth, as tears began to fall. Kanako was shocked, her hazel eyes flying wide, and before she knew what she was doing, she drew up closer to the distraught girl. Grabbing her gently by the shoulders, she tentatively shook her, trying to gauge a reaction, as she hissed in a soft pulling whisper:
"Oi! Pull yourself together, dammit! She's watching!"
"I'm-I'm... I'm s-sorry, Kanako-sama."
"Shut up. Shut the hell up, right now! Not another word, do you understand me?"
"Y-Yes..."
"Just..." Dammit, where's Nii-san when I need him? He's the one who knows how to fix people when they're broken, not me. My job is to break people in the first place! I --- I can't even look at her...
Idiot: I'm the one who should be sorry, Setsuna.
Kanako cursed underneath her breath and drew Setsuna forcefully into a hug, knowing full well she was being watched the entire time, as the distraught girl gasped lightly. The Aoyama brat was probably never going to let her live it down, and if the rest of the school heard, she would become a laughing stock! She was supposed to be here to make things miserable, the worst, and destroy this forsaken school that Headmaster Konoemon Konoe had dragged her to from Kitsusho Academy in Tokyo. She was fine there, content with the life she had been chosen to lead.
So what if the place was rampant with delinquency and out of control youths? Kanako did not care in the slightest. She was a genius, she earned her place, and she met the expectations set out before her unflinchingly. Kitsusho Academy was real, as close to the genuine truth where ugliness and beauty collided on a daily basis, and lies had few places to hide for long. Today's winners could be tomorrow's losers, enemies become allies, friends become strangers: this was a world, a little microcosm where truly she could live.
She hated Mahora Academy, and yesterday's events only emboldened her hate. Lies and darkness were the foundation of this place, or worse, the entire town of Mahora City, and she was slowly uncovering it little by little. Kanako wanted nothing to do with this place, but she had come on the good will of her dear brother only. Keitaro was soft like that, always happy to help, and had no problems getting close to others, even if it meant soiling himself in false beauty.
Kanako did not want to be close to anyone or anything. Keitaro and her family were more than enough for her; they were the only ones she would ever love and trust. Truly, she rejected this false world, and yet now, in some incomprehensible twist of --- whatever, she was being forced to take in some blasted --- stray!
Setsuna Sakurazaki: what was so great about this broken, pathetic whelp of a half-demon? This girl who was her fellow classmate? Why did she accept Keitaro's good will again on another absolutely crazy plan of his? What did he see in this distraught girl, who contrary to her title, the role she had been chosen to serve, "Yojimbo" --- a bodyguard, needed more protecting herself? Ha, how could she even think about protecting anyone when she could not protect herself?
Yes, this half-breed demon girl was going to destroy her image and worse. Kanako realized now that the seed of her destruction had been planted the moment she had conceded to her dear brother. It had taken root when she had accepted Setsuna, and now it was blossoming into a young sapling right her arms. It was absurd, ridiculous, and utterly unbelievable. Hell, Kanako had only met the blasted girl this morning, and had not even begun to teach her a thing!
And she cared about Setsuna Sakurazaki. Make that, she cared a lot about Sestuna Sakurazaki. Hell, she liked Setsuna Sakurazaki!
That's all, thought Kanako grimly. There's no other reason why I'd be hugging her like this. God... I care about some half-breed stray, a bastard demon child, a girl with no real home. She works for some covert paramilitary group, the Kensai Association. They're dogs under the authority of the Magic Associations here in Japan itself, who in turn are slaves to the Mage's Association. And I care about her.
It's all your fault, Keitaro-niisan!
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes:
Three --- Two --- One --- BLAMMO! Didn't I tell ya I'd be back? Hurrah; it's episode 55! And the Crazy just gets Crazier! Kanako and Motoko; Rivals? A Duel in Kyoto? A smashing fight to the finish? Is Setsuna exaggerating here or could it really be the difference between Heaven and Earth? Just how strong IS Motoko? And what's this? Motoko was Setsuna's sempai? What kind of sins did Setsuna and Konoka commit that Motoko would want revenge on them for? Just how deep does the blood run between these three, and better yet, is it just me or is Kanako --- Akamatsu-sama forbid! --- a big. warm. furry. softie. at heart? Keitaro sure does know how to make a gamble. How will this new relationship blossom? What's gonna happen next? XD
Well, maybe we'll find out on the next episode of 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 (see you around the same time as usual): SEMPER FIDELIS! FOR REAL!
Omake!
Naze Nani Glass Moon Desu
Episode Preview!
Chapter 56:
Flatmates?
"We might not look like it, but we're pretty well connected with the real going-ons of the world. Demons, ghosts, vampires, things that go bump in the night, nightmares come to life, the Vatican (also known as the Church), ancient warrior clans, mysterious disappearances, and the Mage's Association. Eh-hehehe, we know it all exists."
Tsudzuku!