A/N: Ken Akamatsu owns Negima. This story is a work of fanfiction based upon the characters and situations of Negima and is done without the knowledge or consent of Akamatsu-san.

I dedicate this story to three fellow fans:

To Ansem, who makes me laugh, to Theru, who makes me think,

and

To Greve, who makes me ask "What the … did he just say?"

--

Crazy in Love

From the shadows. That was how she would watch over her charge Setsuna had promised. For two years after arriving at Mahora, the swordswoman had done just that. Her blade was ready to guard her precious ojou-sama, to cut down in an instant any who would do Konoka harm. However, that all changed one fateful night outside of Kyoto, the most wonderful night of her fourteen plus years.

Sailing underneath a full moon on outstretched wings, she had held on tightly to her charge. Setsuna's heart thumped inside her chest, beating more wildly than a caged beast. How afraid the shinmei-ryu was that Konoka would turn from her in disgust, being revealed as nothing but a monster. Instead, her ojou-sama smiled and in a voice sweeter than amazake declared that she "looked like an angel." At that moment, the swordswoman would have gladly carried her lovely cargo far away. Perhaps it would have been better if she had.

A young man, seeming scarcely older than herself, escorted Konoka into a pizza parlor. Setsuna settled where she could observe the couple through a large, plate glass window. Like a true gentleman, her date held a chair out for ojou-sama and helped push the girl in towards the table. A waiter promptly appeared and took their order, leaving the two teens to chat amiably. It was another omiai arranged by the headmaster.

'I'd have thought Konoe-sama would have given up on them by now,' Setsuna told herself. 'Particularly since the last three ended so tragically.'

Tragic didn't even begin to describe the truth. Three men in the prime of their lives, mages all, were brutally murdered after dropping Konoka off at the dorm. Remains, slashed to bloody ribbons, were discovered the following morning. Each had been horribly mutilated by having his … delicates was the word she inserted here … removed. This boy must be different if the headmaster would allow the youngster to risk life and … limb.

She didn't blame the boy for being there. Konoka was an attractive girl with a bright and bubbly personality. Smart, easy to talk to, and just a joy to be around. Setsuna didn't doubt that young man would be putty in her friend's hands. It always turned out that way. Sometimes she wondered if it was intentional on ojou-sama's part. Certainly, her beloved enjoyed twisting the swordswoman around one of those perfectly formed fingers.

From the pizzeria, she followed the couple to a theater and sat outside while the teens enjoyed a movie. Setsuna tried not to think of what the young man might try in the darkened room, but the image of hands roaming over ojou-sama's satiny smooth skin would not go away. Worse was her desire to be the one touching Konoka instead. Her lips brushing against the girl's mouth as a hand gently cupped a breast.

A low moan caught her attention causing Setsuna to glance about for its source. Her face blushed in embarrassment when the swordswoman realized it had issued from her own lips. 'Focus Setsuna,' she scolded herself. 'You have a job to perform.'

Hours later it seemed, the couple emerged from the theater and, hand in hand, walked down the lamp-lit street. Fear began to bud in the pit of her stomach only to bloom into full flower as she realized they were heading towards the Riverside Park, famous throughout the school as the make out spot for lovers. 'No!' an anguished wail echoed in her mind. 'Please ojou-sama, not there!'

When they passed into a darkened tunnel beneath the street, Setsuna could take no more. Drawing her nodachi from its scabbard, she stalked her rival with murder in her rapidly beating heart. The couple stood in the tunnel's center. A ball of yellow-white light hovered above the boy's outstretched hand. 'A wizard!'

Moving in front of Konoka, the mage announced, "It's over Setsuna-san."

As he spoke, the boy's form wavered and shrank revealing him to be …

"Negi-san!" she gasped and lowered the point of her blade.

"I didn't want to believe the headmaster when he said he suspected you were responsible for the murders," Negi told her. "Why Setsuna-san?" his distressed voice asked.

A thousand thoughts tried to take flight at once: attack, escape, explain, or commit ritual suicide. As each fought the other, the swordswoman stood paralyzed by indecision. Behind her teacher she could hear Konoka begin to intone a binding spell. Setsuna heaved a sigh of resignation and sheathed her sword, realizing that all was lost. "Because I love Kono-chan," she admitted, "and I can't bear the idea of anyone else with her."

--

Konoka couldn't believe what she had just heard. Setsuna had killed out of love for her. And now her beloved partner would be taken away, placed beyond the young mage's reach forever. Quickly she jammed her hand against Negi's back. "Sagitta Magica Aer Capturae!"

Bonds of magic flowed around the boy wizard, trapping him completely. With a loud thud, he fell to the tunnel floor and lay still. "I'm sorry Negi-kun," she apologized while gazing into eyes open wide in disbelief. "Why Konoka-san?" those eyes pleaded. Why indeed?

As the daughter of the Fujiwara's, possessor of unguessed magic potential and heir apparent of two magic associations, Konoka was born under a sign that screamed "for the taking." Of all the men who sought her hand in marriage, not one saw her as anything but a prize to be won. Seeing her bubbly personality, none considered she had a brain or would wish to use it. Desiring her developing body, they fooled themselves into thinking she would be content to produce children out of a mythical sense of duty. And not one of them needed her.

Years of loneliness were broken the day Se-chan arrived. Watching the little girl's shy smile was like seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds. Laughter and joy filled days that had been empty before. Yet, knowing Se-chan needed her proved the most gratifying. Truly being the center of somebody's thoughts, hopes and dreams was a heady experience; having felt it once, Konoka became greedy for it. Greedy for the flustered reaction to the mere brush of hands. Greedy to be who the swordswoman's eyes searched for in a crowded room. Greedy to be her dearest friend's purpose for being.

No, she could never explain all that, not to the boy before her nor to her grandfather, so Konoka settled for a simple "Because I love her Negi-kun." The boy closed his eyes, she hoped in acceptance if not understanding. Her heart felt heavy, but she had no choice. Between Setsuna and Negi, it was clear where her feelings laid.

"Kill Negi-kun," she commanded the swordswoman. A hiss of metal sliding out from its sheath filled the tunnel. "But … make it as painless as possible."

--

A grey pall settled over Mahora as the entire city mourned the horrifying death of its beloved, child teacher. All of the students wore black to see the box containing Negi's body off on its long, slow trip to Wales. They had a lovely ceremony in his honor as the field were they had bid farewell to Chao was filled by thousands of mourners.

As the crowds dispersed, two classmates walked back to the dormitory, conversing in whispered voices. "I miss Professor Springfield," Setsuna said as tears flowed unabashedly down her cheeks.

"I miss him too," Konoka sighed. "Poor Asuna. I wonder how she'll get along now."

"Perhaps I could come over today and sit with her," Setsuna offered. "Both of us could help comfort her."

Konoka agreed and then gazed at her one true love. "Se-chan," she started, "will you promise to always be with me?"

Setsuna stopped and stared uncomprehendingly at her. However the shocked expression softened into one of devotion she so adored. Like an angel descending from heaven just for her, Se-chan smiled. "Always Kono-chan," came the words she'd never tire of hearing. "I promise."