Mahou Sensei Negima! Fan Fiction ❯ The Muse ❯ Don't call me "-sama" ( Chapter 1 )

`Hmm, what's this? I have a new Chiu admirer?' muses Chisame as she checks her emails. The one that happened to catch her attention was one addressed to `Chiu-sama, my muse'.

 

Frowning a little at the unexpected turn of events and knowing that her teacher and his crazy friends were expecting her to show up soon; Chisame opens it, expecting to read through the usual compliments to `Chiu', her online personality.

 

Instead, the letter reads:

 

Chiu-sama,

 

I know that you will think that this is just another online fan—and, in a way, that is true—but it is so much more than that.

 

It is true that I have followed your rise to fame in the world of net idols; there is none your better. But I have also followed your journey through life outside the net.

 

In truth, I like Chisame-sama better than Chiu-sama. Chisame-sama is a wonderfully complex puzzle, and I do so love puzzles.

 

For over a year now, you have been my muse for my stories. When I needed inspiration, I looked to Chisame-sama and Chiu-sama. Your beauty—both as Chisame and as Chiu—drove me to new heights.

 

Come to the lunch with Negi-sensei and his friends, and I will show you how I feel now that I have had an opportunity to get to know you, Chisame-sama.

 

Your devoted admirer.

 

Chisame has a look of utter horror on her face, and a blush stains her pale cheeks.

 

“Is this some kind of sick joke!? Who does he think he is!?”

 

The look of horror is replaced by a mulish one, though the blush persists on her face.

 

“Well, this guy is in for a surprise. I don't even like guys; they're all idiots. Does he think that no one has ever wanted to date Chiu? Won't see it coming, none of them did.”

 

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

 

Chisame showed up at Evangeline's resort only a little late, already in her bathing suit and hair down.

 

The others call greetings as Chisame settles by the side of the pool with her laptop. She waves back but ignores them for the most part, still thinking about that email.

 

It wasn't until an hour later that Haruna left the group to sit next to Chisame with her usual creepy smile that says she's up to something.

 

“So, Chisame-sama, did you get my email?”

 

Chisame's brown eyes are as wide as her glasses and the blush is back full force.

 

“YOU'RE THE ONE WHO SENT THAT!?”

 

Haruna smirks. “No need to shout, of course I did. It took Nodoka and Yuekichi quite a long time to get me to say anything, but I might as follow through now that I have, true?”

 

“B-but why?”

 

“Why not? Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and say, `Chiu might be beautiful, but I'm just as pretty'? Do you ever listen to yourself hide encouragement behind scathing words?”

 

Haruna smiles up at the sky, running a hand through thick black hair. “For someone so in love with `reality', you sure do live in a fantasy world.”

 

Out of nowhere, she pulls a sketchbook and hands it to Chisame with a slight blush. “Look through that and I think you'll get the picture.”

 

Chisame flips through dozens of pictures of Chiu and herself in all kinds of poses. Sleeping, eating, typing, posing, even a few from the cosplay contest during the Mahora festival. The last one, however, sent a blush to her cheeks.

 

Chisame recognized the lingerie as from being from the cosplay, but the pose was anything but. It was Chisame—in the lingerie, devil horns, and tail—leaning against a doorframe, hair down and glasses missing. The look in the picture's eyes suited the devil accoutrements perfectly; sinful.

 

Haruna clears her throat embarrassedly. “Uh, yes, that was a dream that I quite liked. It also happened to be the reason Nodoka and Yuekichi found out about my feelings.”

 

The blush has now spread to the rest of Chisame's face. “You were there?”

 

“He, he, yeah. You didn't think that they would forget to send one to the anime club? I was very happy to see that you were participating. Even more happy when your costume fell apart. Best part of the day.”

 

The blush deepens.

 

“Wha-what are you trying to say, Haruna-san?”

 

Haruna grins at Chisame.

 

“Call me Paru-chan. And isn't it obvious? I love you, Chisame-sama. You, not Chiu; though I quite like her too.”

 

“Why?”

 

Haruna threads her ink-stained hands through Chisame's brown hair, cupping one red cheek; drawing close enough for her breath to ghost over inflamed skin.

 

“I don't think I need a reason, but if you insist…

 

“You're beautiful, intelligent, mature, and kind even if you don't want to be.

 

“You're a secret hidden in the open, and every time I look at you I see something that I want to draw, something new that I want to set down forever in ink.

 

“You're creative, and an artist with a keyboard; a force that can't be pinned down with a pen and a pad no matter how many times I try.

 

“You love this `fantasy' as much as—if not more than—the rest of us, even if you won't admit it, and you have so many layers that I don't know if I'll ever get tired of trying to figure you out, Chisame-sama.”

 

Haruna chastely touches her lips to Chisame's then pulls away. “Is that good enough for you, Chisame-sama?”

 

A smile—hesitant, but still there—hooks itself into Chisame's mouth. “Yes. And don't call me Chisame-sama,” admonishes Chisame as she leans in for another kiss.