Ohhhhhhhhhh yes. This is the story that kept me up allllll night when it came into my head.

So, super excited to start this. I don't think there's any story like this involving these two on this site either. *claps*

It's a little darker, a lot more realistic, and hopefully a lot more interesting than some other stories.

Anyways~ Hope you guys enjoy it, I'm sure I will. Actually, I am enjoying myself right now! :D

I know this is going to be a good one!

Disclaimer: I don't own Negima, I just wish upon stars that I do. Sadly.

Runaway Baby

Part 1

It's raining cats and dogs when she and I race out of the house. I can hear him behind us, calling me: whore, slut, bitch, and brat to name a few.

I can't see a thing, and the only thing keeping me from falling face first into the slick sidewalk is Setsuna. My lungs are burning, and I'm starting to get tired, but I can't stop running. We need to get out of here, or else I'm sure he's going to kill me. And more importantly, Setsuna.

Even through the monsoon, I can see her face lit up in fear. It scares me, to be honest with you. She's never scared. Her expression only intensifies when I hear thunder behind us, and silver metal flies past us, pinging against our poor neighbors' cars.

With surprising strength, Setsuna roughly shoves me in front of her, effectively shadowing my body with her taller one. We dash through large puddles in the street, and head for her car parked on the corner, as a bullet barely misses her leg.

She flinches in surprise, but gives me a reassuring smile that she's okay, and desperately unlocks my door, screaming, "Get in! Get it!"

My heart is beating so fast, and I'm shaking all over, but I do what she says and climb in, slamming the door shut and pushing the lock down, as I reach over with the other hand and unlock her door...

But, before we get deeper into the story, let me start at the day where everything seemed to start.

My name is Konoka Konoe. I'm 18 years old, and I moved from my beloved hometown of Kyoto, Japan, to Mahora, Illinois, USA when I was seven.

I live with my step-dad, Yami Konoe, and that's it. My mom passed away when I was six, which was partially the reason we left, because Yami couldn't stand living in our house without her there. The other reason was because he found a better job, and came here for the better opportunity.

What? You want to know about Mahora? Eh. I hope you aren't expecting much, because it's nothing special. The town of Mahora was established in the 60's, during the period when us Japanese folks began migration over here, and has been a collective gathering for Japanese people since then. Seriously, Mahora is 100-percent Japanese ethnicity.

Anyways, at some point Mahora was home to a couple car factories, which basically got our economy up and running, but eventually the factories went dry, and now all we have are law firms, banks, and boring businesses like that.

I don't want to be a banker or lawyer though, it's too...stiff. I just want to explore, be my own person, and figure out everything for myself.

Freedom. That's what I want.

Today's my first day of 12th grade at Mahora Academy, and I know how it's going to be already. The cool kids are just going to knock people like me around, but I've learned how to blend in so they won't single me out. The teachers are going to be stuck up assholes, and ignore you when you try to get help.

Welcome to Hell, USA.

Population: Me.

The bell rings, and it's lunch time. I'm starving. Who ever knew listening to a teacher drone on about the cosmos could get you soooooo hungry.

I don't eat in the cafeteria, like the teachers try to make us, but outside on the bleachers, just in front of the volleyball court.

I carefully take the ham and cheese tamagoyaki I made this morning out of my lunch box, staring off into the sky. I take a sip of my lemonade drink.

It's a pretty blue. Just like the ocean when it's sea foam green, but the towering gray buildings on the skyline takes away from it.

I hate it here. I want to move out of this stinky city, and out to the country.

But, I don't think I ever will. I don't think I have the power to do such a thing, and I admire people that do.

WHOOSH!

BANG!

All of a sudden, there's this pain in my leg, and I can feel the skin turning red. Luckily, I managed to keep a shaky hold on my can of lemonade without spilling too much of it on myself.

My tamagoyaki wasn't so lucky, and there it lay mutilated, on a pink wad of gum someone decided to stick on the bleachers.

Slightly pissed that I no longer have anything to eat, and probably am going to starve through these last two class periods, I look over to find out what had caused me this misfortune.

A white ball...

A volleyball to be exact.

It lays innocently beside me, the beautiful white leather shines perfectly in the dim light let through from holes in the covering over the stands.

I lean over, pick it up, and hold it in my hands with a curiously blank expression.

I'm about to toss it when I hear the thud, thud, clack of someone running up the stairs of the bleachers,.

"Hey! Can I have that?" A velvety voice calls to me, stopping right in front of my, and all I see are toned legs, shin guards, and a pair of too-short-to-be-legal black spandex shorts.

My hearts hammering in my chest, as I look up and see the number 15 printed on a black jersey in white letters. I know I'm gawking, but I could care less because I've already been labeled a weirdo.

Setsuna Sakurazaki. 19 years old. Captain of the Mahora Strikerz' volleyball team.

Oh my. You know the girl in every school that has the "it" factor? The girl that makes the guys drool rivers and all the girls burn with envy?

Yeah. That's Setsuna for you.

While you're sitting there, let me give you a better description of this Goddess.

She's about 5'10, with long legs that make up most of her height, and all around, a toned body. I'm sure it's because of all the conditioning she's done since she's been on the team since Freshman year, but my God, this girl is F. I. N. E.

Her body is a perfect hourglass shape, narrow hips, a wonderfully sized bust (I heard she wears 34C), that looks FANTASTIC in her jersey since it's so tight up top. She has the prettiest raven colored hair that touches her lower back, and it stands out in a startling way against her pale skin. It's a good way though.

"Ummmm..?" Setsuna says, looking very confused, as she waves on of her calloused hands in front of my dazed face.

Snapping out my reverie with a "Huh?" followed by a painstakingly obvious blush, I hand her what she's looking for, and she gives me a breathtaking grin in gratitude.

The volleyball captain turns away, and starts to walk back to her team that's practicing on the court, but she whips around really fast and runs back to me.

I'm suddenly aware that her eyes are dark brown, which could easily be mistaken for black, and some of her bangs are sticking to her forehead due to the light sweat forming on her body. That's how close she is to me.

She points down to my destroyed lunch, resting her leg on the row of bleachers in front of me, and flicks some of hair behind her ear in an adorable way.

"Sorry about that." Setsuna chuckles sheepishly, tossing the ball back and forth in her hands, as she gives me a look that seems genuinely sincere from a popular girl.

Before I can speak and tell her it was fine, and in fact, she can ruin my lunch anytime she wants, but she opens her mouth to speak again.

"What's your-"

"Setsuna! Are you going to give us the ball so we can play while you're taking care of that nerd?" one of the girls waiting impatiently on the court yells, glaring at Setsuna like she's the most annoying person in the world.

Setsuna twitches, and I swear I can see her vein pop out on her forehead, as she slugs the ball at the blonde haired girl who decided to challenge her, "Evangeline, I'm assigning you extra laps! Get moving!"

Evangeline screeches in protest, and Setsuna snorts in frustration, "100 laps. You're not playing any games until you finish them. Asuna!"

"Yeah?" a red haired girl with pigtails shouts, and I'm going to assume that's Asuna, as Setsuna points to slow walking Evangeline making her way to the track.

"Watch her for me!"

"I gotcha', captain!" Asuna salutes, running over to the track to count Evangeline's laps so they can be sure she isn't cheating.

Coughing, Setsuna directs her gaze back to me, apologizing for the interruption and insult aimed at me with her eyes.

"As I was saying, what's your name?" she asks me, plopping down onto the bleachers in front of me, as she supports her head with her hands on her knees.

"Um, Konoka Konoe." I blurt out, forgetting what my name was like an idiot.

Good job, Konoka. Make it obvious you like her.

She smiles, holding out her hand in companionship to me, as she introduces herself, "Setsuna Sakurazaki."

I blush a little at her smile, which is unique, because the right side of her upper lip gets caught on her right canine tooth, giving her this feral, attractive looking smile. I swear, her teeth just shined in the light.

Unsure what to say next, I slide my hand into my lap, finding my painted toenails suddenly very interesting.

Unrelenting, Setsuna claps her hand in her lap, rubbing any clamminess off onto her shin guards. She glances at me, opening her mouth to ask me something, but she decides against it and purses her lips.

"Grade?" she questions, pulling at the collar of her jersey to circulate some air on her skin.

"We're in the same grade." I respond quietly, not really expecting her to know, since we're from different sides of the popularity chart.

Her onyx eyes widen in genuine interest, "Really? I never noticed you. I wish I would've. You seem like a nice person. Unlike some other people.." she trails off, slightly irritated, as she glances down at her team.

Smiling shyly at her comment, I say, "Thank you. You seem nice too."

Dangit, Konoka! You're basically holding a sign up that says:

I LIKE YOU! PICK ON ME SOME MORE!

Gasping like she remembered something, she points back down to my lunch, "I'm sorry about ruining your lunch and.." she trails off shyly, which is incredibly odd for someone of her social status, "Taking up a big chunk of your lunch time interrogating you. Here, in case you want to get something in the cafeteria to make up for your meal, looks great by the way! I have to go now, I'll see you tomorrow, Kono-chan!" she promises, peeling a five dollar bill out of her pocket, and placing it in my hand before she sped down to her team to direct an exercise.

I didn't spend that dollar.

In fact, it's sitting right here in the back pocket of my denim shorts.

I manage to get through the day, ignoring my crying stomach the rest of the day, and slipped past the crowds of kids after the bell to my locker. I grab my Power Pack 2.0, basically fight to get it out of the miserable things we call lockers, and drop my binder and lunch box inside. This bag could probably fit all my clothes, shoes, hair brushes, and accessories if I tried to put all that stuff inside. This is the ultimate vacation bag. Get one.

Sometimes kids shove me around, and "Damn, do you really need that big of a bag, you nerd?" is the basic gist of what I get if I accidentally bump into someone with it.

I got shoved about twenty times today, one for each hallway I walked through on my way out.

I check my phone once I'm in a clear hall, and it's already 4 o'clock. I got out of class at three-thirty it that tells you anything about how many people are cramped into this school.

My step-dad, Yami, is a banker. He gets off at 8 o'clock, and I know he'll expect me to have dinner ready for him, even though there's the chance I could be bogged down with homework.

But, he's a man. I'm supposed to drop everything in my life to cater to his every whim.

Anyways, I decided to go to the mini-market a few blocks from here. I'm pretty sure he'll want a burger, and if I get it now from McDonald's, he'll be upset when he gets home and it's cold. The end results won't be good for me.

So using the little bits of money I have, excluding Setsuna's five dollar bill, I run in and grab some: hamburger meat, a thing of vegetable oil, some seasonings, and some sauce. After my shopping, I have no money left for myself, once again not counting the lunch money Setsuna gave me.

I take my time walking home, listening to the roars of cars passing me by, as I stare off into the orange sky.

Whenever you see the sky like this, do you feel sad? I do. It reminds me of the legend my Grandpa Konoemon use to tell me about. According to the legend, twilight is the time when the living connect with the dead. It's like I can feel mom beside me, brushing my long chocolate brown locks while she sang to me, but that was such a long time ago. I miss those times. I wonder if she's watching me right now, wondering how on Earth she could leave me all alone with Yami in a foreign land.

I don't blame her at all, but I miss her a lot.

I round the corner across from our house, and I stop dead in my tracks. I barely remember dropping the shopping bag onto the grass.

Yami's car is parked outside.

I check my phone. It's only seven-thirty.

Why is he home?

I remember thinking those very words, as I scooped up the bag I dropped a few seconds ago, and bust through the front door and into the living room.

Yami takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing the toxic fumes right in my direction, and he rocks back and forth in his lounge chair that's pointed at the door. He inhales slowly, drawing in another two inches off his cigarette, as his glasses glaze over.

"Where have you been?" he asks sternly, stabbing what's left of his cigarette into the ash tray, as he smashes the flame out.

I tell myself I'm not going to be afraid this time, but I start shaking like a lamb before I can stop it. I stare at the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I-I got out of school a little late, and I went to the store to get some ingredients for your dinner." I answer, cursing myself for letting that little stutter slip.

"Liar." he states, tapping his shiny black shoes impatiently on the wood floors.

No, no, no! I didn't do anything wrong! I swear it was just seven a few minutes ago!

My breathing starts to get short and choppy, and I can tell I'm getting scared and about to cry. "I'm sorr-" I begin to whisper, but then he jumps out of his chair, and this man towers over me.

Boom.

Crack.

The room is spinning around in circles when he shoves me against the wall, and from the sound I just heard, I'm sure it cracked too.

"It's going on 9 o'clock," he growls, gripping my shoulders so tightly I begin to cry, but I've learned over the years to just take it.

And that's what I do.

"What could you have been doing for five hours?" he spats angrily, snapping my shoulders so my head bangs against the wall, making the room spin even fast than it was before.

I don't answer. It would only make this all worse.

He speaks again, and I can smell that disgusting mix of nicotine and beer on his breath. It's like a slap in the face, but hot and disgusting.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, you whore. This is your last time to screw up, or else I'll show you my mean side." he rumbles and I can hear the drunken slur leaking through, as he drops my shoulders, and he turns to walk away.

I feel safe for a second, but then he turns around, and his knuckles connect with my eye.

My knees crumple, and I'm on the floor, wishing I would drown in my tears. I can barely move my right eye, and when I do, I wish I didn't.

Yami kicks me roughly in the leg, muttering something like "No good, ungrateful brat." and he leaves the house, leaving me to sit on the floor in my own misery.

I manage to get myself onto my feet, the pain in my right eye exploding, as I struggle not to cry anymore in fear of provoking another headache.

I wonder to my room, stumbling every few seconds, but making steady progress as I collapse onto my bed and set my laptop on my pillow. I finger under the pillows for a second, finding the little pill bottle I keep here just for this purpose. Two orange pills fall into my palm, and I take them without any water.

By the time I've finished, my computer is already up and running, and I smile a little at the background. It's a picture of Kyoto in the winter. It's beautiful.

Before I begin to dwell on the past, I click on the internet and get on Facebook. My fingers find the keys and I find myself typing in Setsuna's name. It isn't very hard to pick her out, since her profile picture is of her holding up the 1st place trophy of the volleyball tournament a couple weeks ago.

I click on her profile, go to her wall, and my heart sinks like a brick.

The screen reads:

Setsuna Sakurazaki is in a relationship with Kotaro Inugami.

30 people like this

Comment- Like-

Kazumi Asakura

Dang! Bout time you got a facebook boy!

5 minutes ago

Kotaro Inugami

lol. Shut up Kazumi. Love you babe. 2 month anniversary in a few days.

2 minutes ago

Setsuna Sakurazaki

Love you too. :)

a few seconds ago

Ayaka Yukihiro

Awwww. So cute :)

Just now

Kotaro Inugami

lol

Just now

I snap my laptop shut and place it under my bed.

It's not fair! I know Kotaro. He's a player and all he does is flirt with girls, and for some reason I really don't want Setsuna to get hurt by him.

But maybe...2 months..?

I swallow some of the tears streaming down my face and cry myself to sleep.

Whoop, whoop! What did you guys think of that? Interesting? Boring? Cheesy?

Let me know what you thought about this one. I'm really curious about your thoughts about this one, seriously. ^.^ It's for my own enjoyment as much as your's, but I still would like to hear your opinion. And, before someone mentions it, sometimes the sentences are purposefully short and choppy. I feel like it makes it more realistic.

I'm really liking the way it's turning out though. :D

Peace~