[h1]Hanazawa Maria[/h1]

So... I've been stood up.

...well, no, not really. I'm the one who's early. But hey, come on, if you ask a girl to meet you, alone, claiming to be a fan of hers, shouldn't [i]you[/i] be the one who's supposed to come early? Especially if it's at some back-alley warehouse like this, in the slums. Seriously, can there possibly be a less romantic spot for a date? Geez, some guys...

Or maybe this whole thing is just some kind of trap.

I mean, I don't want to be too quick to judge, but... So a guy emails us and says he wants to join the Union. Okay, fair enough. And he says he's specifically a big fan of yours truly. Still fair, and I'm flattered. But then he says he wants to meet me, alone, at this secluded area, so that he can ask me some questions before joining. Um... Yes, he [i]could[/i] just be a really enthusiastic fan who's a bit clueless about etiquette and stuff. On the other hand, he could be a stalker, at the very least, if not something even worse. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt here, since I came at all, but I'm not stupid enough to completely rule out these things when there's suspicious behavior.

And I'm bored... Even though it's only been around fifteen minutes. There isn't even any good scenery around here.

Nah, that's not true. [i]I[/i] am the best scenery that there'll ever be, of course; so I start looking over myself again to pass the time. Today I've gone with the classic knockout outfit of crop top with spaghetti straps, and tight miniskirt, all made of black leather, plus sheer lacy stockings with garter belts, and high-heeled boots, also black. Then some shiny black bracelets adorned with rubies, to draw attention to the bare skin of my arms. Bright red lipstick and nail polish. And finally, a black leather collar, for that extra little kinky flair. Ehehe... If this guy really is a fan of me, I wonder if I'll give him a heart attack.

That, or it might just look weird in this chilly weather. Oh well, it's still sexy, so who cares? I've taken baths in the frozen rivers of Niflheim without any problems, so this kind of weather is pretty much literally nothing. Besides, isn't it exciting? To wear a really skimpy outfit when everyone else is wearing thick clothes because of the cold. It was great, that time in Niflheim, when I paraded myself around in nothing but a black string bikini, even in those blizzards that made it white everywhere. Those frost shades and jötnar blew more than a few gaskets at that! Hehe.

Suddenly, I feel a faint little breeze wash over me. Breeze? No, that's not it; it's some kind of magic. Hard to tell, but it's probably someone's sixth sense, maybe? It's subtle enough that I can't quite tell where it's from, only that it's somewhere in the direction I'm facing. Then I feel another wave, from behind me this time. Well, well. It's finally starting to get a little more interesting.

[b][i]BANG![/i][/b]

Everything goes dark.

Okay, no, not everything. My sixth sense is obviously still fine, and it's my normal human senses that suddenly all went "poof". Ah... I know this feeling. Someone just shot a hole through my head. How [i]rude[/i]! Anyways, tracing back through the memories of the last few milliseconds, and scanning the wound, it seems that the shot came from behind me, probably right through walls and everything. Aha, so this [i]is[/i] a trap! Damn, and I was hoping we'd get a nice new recruit... Ugh.

For a moment I consider if I should turn back toward whoever shot me and give him a piece of my mind, literally. But nah. Instead, I just let myself fall to the ground, blood and brain matter oozing from the hole in my forehead, and deliberately not fix the wound, as if I've really died from that. Looks pretty gruesome, I know, but I'd rather play dead and catch the asshole by surprise. I focus on hiding the presence of my aura with my best illusion magic, making it look like the aura is almost gone and I'm thus actually dead. At the same time, I send out my own telepathic scanning wave, as subtly as possible, and masked using the same cloaking magic. Ha, I bet I can do better than the guy that shot me!

Okay, so... I sense about six people from behind me, three humans and three spirits; whoever shot me is presumably one of them. There's a human on a rooftop in the direction I was facing, and some kind of weird indistinct blur in the same direction. That's a guy also cloaking himself, right? Hard to tell where he even is. At this distance, I also can't glean much more than those other people's general locations, not without using a stronger scanning spell and potentially exposing myself, especially when they're already aware of my position like this. Maybe if they come closer... Hmm. There're quite a few of them, so this could get a bit hairy. I begin preparing a disruption spell to melt through whatever anti-teleportation wards and other traps they might be thinking of using. And of course, at the same time, I'm still lying on the ground in a slowly-expanding pool of my own blood, like the headshot victim that I am. Let's see what those guys will do, shall we?