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 69:

The Evening Night

A Love Magister Hina Negima! fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards


Setsuna could not explain quite exactly what came over her, but the moment she laid eyes on the green scroll, the caressing whisper of wind, she was enthralled. The crow demon in her veins awakened with unbelievable fervor, sending her heart and mind racing at a feverish pace as a haze settled over her dark brown eyes. Before she could even understand, Setsuna was already overwhelmed, her trembling body reaching out with a yearning hand. The sound of cloth tearing, feathers fluttering outwards in a rush of air, was all lost to her.

"W-Wings! Whi-White wings," she heard a familiar feminine voice gasp from beside her.

Why? Why were not her feet carrying her forwards? Move. Move. Move. Go forward! She could hear it. Something. A song. The Song. A woman's voice was calling for her to come. Warm. So warm.

"O-Oi! Sekkun, what's --- tsk, here, Kanako; catch!" the silhouette of a man shouted, tossing something aside.

A flash of red.

"Ah, N-Nii-san! Y-You shouldn't just throw the Seal of Li-!"

A flash of yellow.

"Sorry, Kana-chan. I don't know what's happening to her, but I think Sekkun's really wants the Seal of Sun or its having an effect on her or...! Arghhhh, I don't know; can you just help her walk towards me, please?"

The glow of green, growing brighter.

"Heeeeeeh? B-But, she has-!"

Move. Move. Move!

"Oh come on, stop blushing and help me out here. We can take photos and paint some portraits-!"

Calling. Calling me.

"K-Keitaro-b-baka! I was not thinking about trivial things like that!"

Yes, step by step, Setsuna approached closer, guided by the whirling wind towards the pin prick of light, blazing from green to a rich emerald. The power was unfurling, a flutter of venerable parchment that expanded outwards into infinity as a white feathered quil materialized in her grasp. Countless names written in crimson appeared across its beige earthen expanse, recounting the history of generations before, while the fresh ground foretold the tales of those yet to come. And here in this unsullied ground, below where another had come before her just recently, was where she would begin her journey by inscribing her name upon the contract.

Blood flowed onto the tip, drawn from her very hand, a remarkably human crimson that stirred her heart, leaving her body unaware of her spirit being carried off far, far away on the wind...


The blazing sun.

Hot and dry.

Staring up.

A barren land kissed by the scorching wind.

"Hmm? What's this?" asked a woman's voice.

Her shadow.

Calloused hands, strong and supple.

Blue eyes.

Tanned skin.

Brown hair, short and boyish, with red cloth tied around like a forehead protector.

Beautiful of earth, wind, life, and death.

"Oya-oya, now this is a surprise. What are you doing here, precious one?"

Precious one? Why... This smell.

"Tsk, tsk, don't tell me you've forgotten about me, my little Setsuna? Yare-yare, and I thought a little girl would be just perfect for Ryuusei and me."

A sigh? My little Setsuna? Familiar. Why?

"Oh, now I remember! I did leave you in an awful big hurry, heheheh. Gomen ne, my little Setsuna; I'm really, really sorry! Do you think you can forgive Mommy, please? Pretty please?"

...M-Mother?

"It's me: Honoka! Honoka the Sword Dancer; Honoka --- Girl of, tee-hee-hee --- sorry, make that Woman of the Blue Eyes. After all, I have you now, don't I, my little Setsuna? You've grown up so pretty!"

Touch.

"But you know --- I do have one more name. It's probably made things painful for you, hasn't it, my little Setsuna?"

Wings unfurling...

"Honoka of the Shadow Angels --- Datenshi, the Herald of the End Times, the Coming of the Obsidian Lord --- The Everchosen."

Black and white.


"Oi, Sekkun!"

"Setsuna, Setsuna, Setsuna! Wake up, Setsuna!"

"Come on, get a hold of yourself, Sekkun!"

"Setsuna!"

"Sekkun!"


When she came to, the first thing Setsuna felt was the darkness --- and the warmth. Eyes fluttering open, a prismatic psychedelic splash of colors, moonlight, and blobs of electric light greeted her through the wide open curtains of the broad windows lining the far wall. Amorphous darkness, shapes, and shadows danced nightmarishly about her, some going as far as to seize her body in coils of black, yet Setsuna felt no fear of them. Familiar voices that she had grown so fond of were calling to her from them and with each passing heartbeat they grew louder, their forms gaining shape and definition, until at last their identities were revealed.

"Ka-na-ko-sama...Ura-shima-kun?" she spoke weakly, her voice dry and unusual, like she had not spoken in a long time.

"Setsuna!" cried Kanako, surprising everyone and very likely herself the most, as she impulsively embraced her.

Setsuna, honestly, did not know what to say to the trembling girl, who seemed to be on the verge of tears, just barely holding back the sobs of --- joy? Had Kanako missed her? Joy. She had never known what it was like to be "missed" before, a bold new experience. Oh, and there was Keitaro, smiling down at her in relief, as his other arm snaked around his sister to bring them all closer together. Why would he be doing that to...

Wait, I'm --- I'm leaning against him. He's --- He's holding onto me. To all of us. Why? What happened? Why are the lights off? Why --- Why do I feel --- complete --- here? the bizzarely warm lines of thought asked her. When was the last time she felt like this anyway? Was it when she was with Arashi-sempai and Arisugawa-sempai? No. The feeling from then pales compared to now.

Warm.


"A-nou, wha-t --- w-what hap-pened to me?" was what she would have liked to say when everything began to move quickly, a whole span of minutes blurring in a second. Shapes moving, voices talking; everything was passing by right until a shock hit her feet. She was standing --- no --- walking outside, the gentle rap of a pair of footsteps side by side. The air was cool with a familiar weight on her shoulder letting her know that her possessions, prized and mundane, were by her side. Darkness and the hum of electric lights heralded the orchestra of the night: the billowing breeze and the rustling leaves.

Glancing aside, there was a presence to her right: a young man, taller than her, walking with an assured easy gait, as a small smile tugged at his lips. Setsuna did not know how long she stared at him, unable to recognize him, and when he turned his head, she knew she had been caught guilty as charged. Her heart lurched seemingly up into her throat, a sick knot that not even Keitaro's gentle eyes of concern could quell.

He spoke to her with a laugh, ruffling his hair sheepishly out of habit, "Sekkun, are you alright? Sorry about the rush, but we had to get you out quick. Kana-chan put up some genjutsu to mask our getaway, though there wasn't quite enough time for..."

There was no need to say anymore because the answer was right in the reflection of his glasses. Her blood red eyes stared back at her in silent horror accompanied by her freed white hair gleaming a faint blue, as her pale, porcelain skin glowed under the passing lights. The magic she used on a daily basis to hide her freakish albino appearance had been broken. There was no way she could fix it until she returned to her dorm room where the materials she needed were kept safely out of sight and out of mind.

Freak.

Aberration.

Abomination.

Miscreant.

Monstrosity.

Keitaro and Kanako had no doubt seen her in this ugly state, which was but the tip of taint in her veins. The former had seen more than the latter, but that detail did not matter. What truly mattered was the fact that Keitaro knew even more now just how much she "lied" --- no --- just how much her very life itself was a farce: a half-demon masquerading as a human. What did he think of her now? How did he feel when he saw the ugly truth? She had to know; she had to hear the answer.

"Anyways, we're almost there to the junior-high girl's dormitory, so..."

"Urashima-kun," Setsuna called out in a flat tone, bringing their stroll to a sudden, steely halt. Astonishment blossomed across his face: eyes wide and hand left hanging in mid-air as if reaching for an imaginary telephone. It appeared that he had not even realized how she had wronged him so much, the young man who had accepted her truly at first sight.

"Oi, something wrong, Sekkun?" Keitaro asked her, his familiar hand settling soothingly upon her free shoulder.

"Yes. Something is wrong."

"A-Aahh, well...s-sorry. We really didn't-"

"I lied to you, Urashima-kun."

Confusion.

"...Huh? What're you talking about, Sekkun?"

"Please, don't be coy. This form, the way I look; it's-!"

"So the black hair, brown eyes, and all that stuff is fake, huh? Some kind of magical illusion?"

"...Y-Yes..."

It was then that Keitaro did something --- queer. Perhaps the proper way to think about it was that something queer happened to him because from ear to ear he was grinning fatuously. Removing his hand from her shoulder, he set it upon her head and began to caress her hair affectionately, as if he were a proud elder brother. "Well, if I were you, I wouldn't want to advertise to all the boys and girls around me that I'm as pretty as a fairy either. Come to think of it. Right now --- whoa! --- you really do look like a fairy! Pretty as can be. Hm-hm. Yes, Ma'am!"

Setsuna blushed. Relief, bewilderment, and even an odd "girlish" touch of happiness breathed life into her once more, as she fumbled for some kind of verbal response. All the while, the confounding young man, who had changed her life so it seemed for the better, removed his "offending" hand and turned towards the sidewalk, intending clearly to press on.

"You worry too much about little things, Sekkun, but thanks for showing that you care," Keitaro called back to her, motioning for her to follow. "Other people probably wouldn't have said a thing about it, and yet, you had the integrity to step up. And for that I really think you're one of the sweetest girls I know. Now let's get going. The sooner we get you back to your dorm room, the safer you'll be since I gather you probably don't want to be seen like this, right?"

Well, with this problem settled, the yojimbo supposed she could always ask him later for the details as to what happened to her. So Setsuna made to follow in Keitaro's footsteps, falling in right into cadence at a steady, resonating staccato. He led and she followed --- completely unawares that someone else was watching their progress down the street with keen interesting, waiting for the right moment to...

"N-FIELD, ZENKAI!" shouted a feminine voice.

...strike.

From the darkness, a screeching whistle sliced the air in two as the world froze in time, inverting upon itself impossibly. In the sky was a perfect reflection of Mahora Academy, that is if the observer could call the nightmarish caricature up above, twisted and fallen into decay, "perfect". Colors mismatched and strange wavered in the space between the two campuses, forming a kind of aurora in this bounded world.

"What in the-?" said Keitaro, his chocolate brown eyes wide with bewilderment.

He had certainly never seen anything like it before, ever. So he certainly was not expecting the very sidewalk underneath his feet to suddenly quake, as if an earthquake was coming, sending the nearby administrative buildings shuddering. Glass panes in the windows above shattered with a crash. White geysers of steam hissed out from the cracks splintering across the street.

Something was coming, but where was it?


To Be Continued...


Author's Notes:

A-one, a-two, a-three, and we're live! Episode 69 --- GO!

Well, there you have it; chapter 69 in all of its glory. More fluff, more character development, more omens, and dang, are we about to have a fight scene?

So what's gonna happen next?

Perhaps, 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: Semper Fidelis. Always faithful. Carry on.

Omake!

Naze Nani Glass Moon Desu

Episode Preview!

Chapter 70:

Fight: A Cruel Dance!

"You're mine! Shinmei Ryu --- Ougi - ZANGANKEN!"

Tsudzuku!