Tenderness 1

Negima! fanfic. Konoka's grandfather makes a discovery that changes everything he intended for his precious grandchild.
(Konoka/Setsuna) Tenderness is a series of six stories divided over likely seven parts due to size.

Read Tenderness

Disclaimer: Mahou Sensei Negima etc belongs to Ken Akamatsu and possibly a few others, certainly not myself though if someone would feel like giving the series to me I would not object. ^_^

A slight warning: I have never read the manga, so considering what little of Konoka and Setsuna’s past that has been mentioned so far and how little is seen of Konoemon, this is purely made up by me and might not even remotely fit the official story of the characters.





Tenderness
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By Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





He was an old man, older than even he cared to think about most days, and despite what he might allow to be seen on the surface, the passage of all those years and the many and varied events that had coloured them weighed heavily on his soul. Konoe Konoemon was and always had been a creature of purpose and duty, and now, in the twilight of his long life, it was clear to him that a life of answering to duty had given him precious little besides duty left in this world.

Precious little indeed, but there was one thing, one cherished priceless treasure left in his care, a boundless source of joy and pride for an old man... his only grandchild; Konoe Konoka.

This cheerful and warm-hearted child was all he had left the woman he married, but more importantly, all he had left of that beloved bright-eyed child he had watched from her cradle all the way to a much too early grave. Young Konoka was all Konoemon had left of his beloved daughter, and if he spoiled the girl somewhat he felt himself entitled, having let the chance to do the same to the mother this sweet girl never had the chance to know slip through his fingers.

It had been duty that had held him away from his only child so much, duty had been what he had raised her to know, and in the name of duty she had wed, born a child, and died. It grieved him when the thoughts came to him that for the sake of duty he had robbed his only child of happiness for the short life she was given, but fortunately he knew that she had come to feel affection for the man he had chosen for her, and that for the brief time they had been given his daughter had been happy with her husband.

If Konoemon had been free to make the choice himself it would be different with this child, this girl slowly becoming a woman would live for the sake of living, would get all the things her mother had been denied. He knew this was not to be, that duty and destiny held claims far to great to ignore on the slender figure of his only grandchild, in oh so many ways. He had done what he could to give the child at least a few years of innocence, of careless and cheerful childhood, where there were no greater concerns than school work and friendships.

These few years of ignorance would be over soon, and then duty would claim Konoka, and the path of a future leader would be laid down before her like iron shackles bound around her feet.

He watched unnoticed as the girl interacted with her friends, always a smile on her face and nearly always bringing a smile on the faces of those she spoke to. It was Konoka’s blessing, this light that seemed to emanate from her spirit and brightened all that crossed her path, and Konoemon feared that what the future had in store for this girl would steal that light and dim those eyes, erase that smile from features so dear. This was why he, despite the girl’s protests, continued to search for a good match, a good mate, a man who could stand beside her and ease the burdens of the life that lay ahead.

Try though he might, the perfect mate had yet to be found. Oh, many a suitable and reasonably pleasant young man had approached Konoka, but none of them had caught her interest and none of them had seemed even remotely suitable once Konoemon had watched them interact with his grandchild. He was unsure as to why this was.

As he watched over the girl Konoemon came to the discovery that although Konoka’s smile was always bright and cheerful, there was one for whom a special, much more radiant and stunning, smile was reserved. He noted with affectionate amusement how the smiles that Konoka gave her childhood friend turned guardian outshone even the sun itself, and he was pleased with himself for having been able to bring such joy to her life merely by hiring the right person to stand by her side.

Then of course the time came when Konoemon realized that the shy, blushing young warrior he had chosen felt far more than mere friendship towards his grandchild. Sakurazaki Setsuna was a very capable and skilled warrior, with additional talents given her by her dual heritage, and her devotion to her duties where Konoka was concerned far beyond any possible reproach, but... the girl wore her heart on her sleeve. Yes, Setsuna would gladly die for Konoka’s happiness, and it pained Konoemon greatly to see.

Once the shock and surprise had lifted Konoemon pitied the young warrior that he knew had but heartache and inevitable heartbreak to expect in return for her fierce and boundless loyalty and love. Ah, had Setsuna but been a man, she was a polite and pleasant child with many qualities Konoemon would wish for in Konoka’s future husband, and most of all she would have been someone he could have trusted the life, heart and happiness of his grandchild to. As she was not Konoemon thought long and hard on whether it would be a kindness to sever the bonds between the girls, to send Setsuna away now, before the pain would go too deep, and find another guardian to watch over Konoka.

He considered the arrangements he would have to make to insure no harm came to Setsuna, but had yet to implement them as he had yet to find a replacement that could serve satisfactory as Konoka’s bodyguard. Setsuna could not be replaced of course, and so the question was who or whom would fill the void best... it was not a decision to be made hastily.

Thus it was that Konoemon watched over his grandchild and her protector as the two of them had joined a small group of their friends for some activity involving the library. He found himself dreading Setsuna’s dismissal nearly as much as he dreaded having to face Konoka with the news that he had sent her precious friend away, and that was why he often found himself looking for them when his thoughts strayed of late. Still, watching the two of them interact with their friends for a while before being left alone, sitting with a few very large books in an out-of-the way corner gently lit by the light coming in through a window with mosaic glass, Konoemon knew he could not draw this out for much longer.

The old man watched in wonder as his grandchild appeared to have fallen asleep with her head leaning somewhat on the shoulder of her slightly blushing guardian, and how the warrior took great pains to slowly and carefully ease out of her uniform jacket without waking the slumbering girl and then drape it over Konoka’s shoulders to ward of any potential chill. Having completed the caring task Setsuna settled in, still with a slight blush on her face, providing an awkward pillow for her companion for however long one was needed.

It was a touching scene to a hardened old man that had never had the chance for such things in his own youth, and he decided to leave them to this moment in private, opting to take his troubled planning elsewhere in the building.

Konoemon’s musings were interrupted by a certain young teacher and a group of his students, their antics both amusing and time-consuming, making it so that once they bid their farewells for the day no resolution to Konoemon’s dilemma had been found, and the hour growing late enough that he felt inclined to leave further deliberations for the day to come. On impulse he walked past the spot where he had seen his grandchild last, to make sure that the girls would not accidentally spend the night there.

What he walked in on changed everything.

The girls were sitting in the same spot as where he had seen them last, only now it was Setsuna that slept, arms crossed in a way that gave the impression that the slightest whisper and she would be wide awake and with sword in hand. Konoka was awake now, still in the same position as before and with Setsuna’s jacket draped over her shoulders, only her head lifted to face her protector’s sleeping countenance.

If that had been all there were Konoemon might have told himself that it was a mere trick of the dying light from the window that painted that infinitely loving expression on his grandchild’s face and nothing more. But Konoka reached up, and with a slow, careful gentleness that matched Setsuna’s earlier, caressed a pale cheek with such tenderness that it brought an unfamiliar lump to the old man’s throat. So gentle this touch was, or perhaps so trusted Konoka’s presence, that the warrior’s shallow slumber was undisturbed.

Konoemon watched, both stunned and moved, as his grandchild mouthed words of deep and sincere love for her black-haired companion that sleep ensured went unheard and unknown. A few moments more of adoring gazes and then Konoka, carefully still, pushed closer to wrap an arm around Setsuna’s waist and bury her face in the crook of the sleeping girl’s neck. Setsuna moved slightly in her sleep but did not waken, one arm instinctively coming to wrap securely around Konoka even in her sleep.

Yes, Konoe Konoemon was an old man who had seen and done much in life. Yet looking at these two girls resting so peacefully together, so right together, as if they were two parts of one whole... he could not help but ask himself if there had ever been anyone to look upon him with such love and devotion. Had he ever in word or deed been able to display such tenderness for anyone?

These girls loved one another, truly and sincerely... and now that Konoemon knew this he realized that the signs had been there all along. No wonder no man ever caught Konoka’s eye, no-one could ever compare to her beloved hero, whom it seemed quite possible the girl had loved since a very young age.

Konoemon thought about that, and he thought about the woman he had been made to marry and the daughter whose future he had offered up in an alliance agreement. Neither of them had ever held that look... not even his daughter, though she had come to care for Eishun. He wondered what his duty demanded of him now that he knew. Had Setsuna been a man the solution would have been simple, and a few phone calls would have helped arrange for another omiai shortly, one that his grandchild would have welcomed for once. But for all her virtues and for all the many ways she would complement and support Konoka, Setsuna was still female.

It seemed inevitable that duty would steal the brightness of Konoka’s smile after all.

But then again... this was a different age than the one he had been born to, with different rules and possibilities. The more he thought of the matter the more Konoemon came to realize that duty was not the same thing as tradition... and as long as her duties were upheld, the way she chose to do it was up to Konoka herself.

Setsuna would make a fine son-in-law and an even better mate for Konoka, the perfect protector or support for the future leader, and an ideal partner in studies as Konoka finally set out to learn the arts... there were even advantages that could be found in wedding his granddaughter to a representative of the Shinmeiryuu. Did duty truly say that Konoka must have a male partner after all?

Konoemon was not so old and feeble that he did not realize that the question of conceiving an heir though difficult was not an impossibility. There were ways, and as long as the child or children were born by Konoka and accepted by Setsuna that would be enough. If science failed them Konoemon was sure magic would help out. There would be opposition of course, but there would be some opposition to Konoka regardless.

As he walked away Konoemon felt curiously lightened at the prospect of playing match-maker between the two girls, and he decided he would call Eishun to hear what his son-in-law might think of the possible arrangement. If Eishun agreed then Konoemon would have quite a bit to organise and quite a few people to call in order to get Setsuna into an omiai with Konoka.

He smiled to himself as he wondered if he could manage to keep any possible match-making plans secret to the two girls, picturing their faces once they would realize that they had been set up for an omiai with one another. He wondered what other reactions the children would have, and if his beloved grandchild would be happy this way... he thought she probably would, if the tender moment he had witnessed was anything to go by.

Grinning mischievously Konoemon left the building to make his way towards his office, not caring in the slightest if his call would disturb his son-in-law at a late hour. Although for some reason the new-found resolution made him feel like a man a decade or two younger, Konoemon still thought to himself with impish glee that an old man had to take his amusement where he could find it.

And who knew, fate willing he might even live long enough to get to bounce a great-grandchild on his knee after all.