Second Chances

Written by: Ciuline Ihmenjo

Love Hina does not belong to me. The characters in Love Hina do not belong to me. Ken Akimatsu (and whoever else has interests in it) owns Love Hina. Besides, even if you do try and sue me, I still have no money.

( Pre Fiction )

Well, eighteen years have passed on this earth since I've been born. Actually, I'm five days late here, but who really counts these things other than me? This is my first venture into an anime world other than Card Captor Sakura, so those of you who expect something else from me, you will find the usual writing style, but not that usual content. This is one of those fictions that I've been meaning to write for a long while now, but now that I acutally got around to it, the whole process has been much more enjoyable than I thought it would be. It's a Keitaro/Shinobu fiction… but set in the future. I saw something similar to this a long while ago on but it got deleted a long time ago. I don't like doing that type of thing. Anyhow, Shinobu is so cute at the end of the series that I just had to write this. Still has my usual angst, but it's got a sweet ending. And I did something that will probably piss a lot of people off, but please enjoy!

Italicized words are thoughts. Bold words are emphasis. CAPS WORDS are shouting.

o()o Second Chances o()o

Second chances… Two words. Thirteen letters – well, fourteen if you include the space. I had never really believed that line about everyone having a second chance. It was something that I had read in a book one day. Two stupid words with a stupider meaning. No one gets a real chance to do something over that he or she screws up. I'll never get my chance to be what I wanted to be. I'll never get my "second chance." But I read the words anyway. At the end, those two meaningless words suddenly had a new meaning. They told me that I might just have my chance. So I prayed. Nothing came. It was just part of a book. Two little words that when put together, had no meaning to me…

I was sitting at a bar, sipping on troubles with the tang of sour beer, when I heard the familiar voice. It was a little deeper, a little more tired, but it was the same voice I remembered from the day he married Narusegawa. He walked up, slumping into the seat beside me with a very audible whuff of air.

"I'll have something light." He smiled at the bartender and set his briefcase on the ground beside him. He wore a suit in shades of brown without a tie. That lay draped across the handle of the briefcase. The curve of a clear mug was grasped snugly in his hands within seconds and he sipped slowly on the amber liquid it contained, as if contemplating the taste. For all I knew, it could have been the meaning of life.

His hair was longer, unkempt. A small lawn of stubble was growing on his chin. Little patches of black were forming beneath his eyes. A shadow loomed over him, threatening to consume him. But he was too devoted to his work to be swallowed up by such things… the demons that haunted him. The knowledge that no matter how hard he wished for her return, she wouldn't come back. The knowledge that he had no second chances with his promised girl. The knowledge that he could have done nothing to save her. His glass was empty. Another was set beside it to replace its fallen comrade.

Her death had taken the entire Hinta group by storm. That storm had yet to subside even in the year after she died. It still raged in all of our hearts. Naru Narusegawa was no longer part of this mortal realm. The accident… it was no accident… just some punk kid trying to get his kicks with a loaded gun. She defended herself and died because of it. I had cried… hell, everyone had cried until there were no tears left. Her funeral was a dreary sort of gray day where the rain pattered softly on the coffin and black umbrellas had been unfurled in an effort to conceal the somber event. Clouds painted everything in dismal shades while the umbrellas cast eerie shadows on faces and bodies. I had forgotten mine and huddled beneath the mass of metal rods and water-resistant fibers.

My cheeks flushed, whether from my memories of him or the five glasses before me, I didn't know. I really didn't care to find out. My voice slurred when I ordered another one. Not that it truly mattered. I had my own troubles to drink away.

"Sempai?" I found myself asking. I had turned to face him, dressed in mostly black, ponytail limply conforming to the contours of my head.

"Ah, is this about today's class?" I had forgotten that he had taken up teaching when the news of her death had shattered his life. It was Seta's old lecturing job. The spot was vacant when he returned to Japan. Seta, of course, had long since left for other things, possibly understanding of his pupil's situation.

"N-no," I managed. "It's… I haven't seen you in a while… and I… uh, I was wondering…" I couldn't string everything I wanted to say together. Finally, my words died in my throat. A beer clutched in one hand, elbow on the worn lacquered surface of the bar. The other rested daintily on the back of the stool. I could see the small waves of liquid crashing against the side of the glass held in my trembling grasp.

"Ah," his eyes lit up. "An old student."

"S-something like… something like that." I looked down at the beer now steadied between my hands. A little ring of foam hugged the sides of the glass like a halo.

He smiled, a faded warmth appearing behind the lenses of his glasses. "How are things going with you? Begging your pardon, but I'm a little fuzzy with names, so I seem to have forgotten yours."

"You forgot me?" I shook my head, tears springing to my eyes. "You forgot about me?" I could feel the scorn creeping into my voice. "Did you forget about the rest of them as well? Because none of us forgot about you!" Those were the words I meant to say. I hoped that they had emerged from my mouth in a similar fashion.

He remained silent, studying his own mug of beer. After a few minutes of my own fuming and his awkward silence, he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry miss, it's been a long while." His shoulders sagged. "It's been a hard long while. Things kind of drifted away with those happier times." His voice lowered to a whisper. "I tried to forget about them, so I could forget about her."

"SO YOU JUST FORGOT ABOUT NARUSEGAWA?" I roared. My blood was boiling. How dare he loose his memories of her! How dare he even try to forget about her! After struggling so hard for so long and enduring so much together… It didn't matter that she was gone, it mattered that he was still here. It mattered that he carried his memories of her just as we carried our memories of her.

He flinched when I shouted her name. The entire bar had turned heads to bear their eyes on us, silent observers passing their judgement on the scene. Tiny mumbles to serve as conjectures as to who Narusegawa was or guesses as to what the argument was over. Perhaps it was the liquor, but he seemed almost angry. An aura of barely controlled fury radiated from his body.

"How dare you…" he hissed. "I didn't forget about her! It's just so damned painful to remember! I can't go a day without thinking of the fact that I was off somewhere digging around in the dirt when some little punk playing with a gun…" He slammed his fist into the bar, denting the wood. He shut his eyes and looked away for a moment. When he brought his gaze back on me, his irises were blurred. He extended his index finger forward, jabbing it in my direction. "I don't know who you are, but how dare you mention her like she was nothing to me!"

A small squeak emerged from my lips and my world wavered for a few moments. I thought little of it and downed the rest of my glass. We were both panting from out verbal exertions. I knew who he was, and he still had no idea who I was.

"Who do you think you are?" he demanded.

"I don't think I'm anyone. I know that I am Shinobu Maehara! And that you were my first love…" I blurted out, the latter part coming out almost in a wisper. It was a little bit of a slip on my part, but I didn't really care. My cheeks instantly flushed crimson as his face turned apologetic.

"I'm sorry…" he said.

"No, I'm sorry…" I said, my blush deepening.

We both chuckled and he smiled. "Why are you sitting at a bar so late at night?"

"Because my boyfriend is a jackass, my life is a mess, and my job is getting me nowhere." I smiled weakly, thanking the bartender as a seventh glass was set before me. "And other things…" The red on my cheeks was quickly fading. He said his own thanks only a few moments later as he began working on his third glass. "And yourself?" I asked.

"Drinking to Naru," he said softly. "Taking a break after another long day of work." He raised his glass to the sky, making a silent toast. I joined in, raising my glass to click the side against his. "And other things," he said, repeating my words.

"To Naru," we both whispered. He drank slowly, in moderation, while I polished off half my glass in one chug.

"I don't usually do things like this," he began, "but something told me that I needed to get a drink tonight. Karma… or fate, no?" He shrugged. "And I think that you need to be getting home."

"I'm fine," I said.

"You're drunk."

"I said I'm fine!" I snapped, the strangled cry emerging from my throat as I tossed my arms in the air. Luckily, he had put a firm grasp on my glass, letting my motion carry my fingers away from it. "Just leave me alone." I tried to shove him away.

He caught my hands. "That's the last thing you need. To be alone." He nodded slowly to his glass. "I know from experience. I'm still trying to correct that mistake."

"Then correct it yourself and let me brood in peace." I struggled in his grasp, finally jerking my arms away from him.

"You were doing so well…" he began. I dashed his train of thought against a cliff face.

"Yeah, well things don't always go according to plan… to any plans," I spat. "At least, nothing did for me," I added, muttering the words.

"You're not here drinking just to brood over that, are you?" His gaze was piercing, almost able to search my soul.

"N-no…" I managed.

"Something about your job?" I shook my head. "Your boyfriend then?" With an audible swallow and a tiny squeak, I nodded. "What happened?"

I don't know why, but I told him, everything spilling out at once, abbreviated only as a brief summary of what went wrong. "After you got married, I figured it was time to move on. Everything had revolved around you at first, but that all shattered since I would now be unable to… to claim you." I stopped, unsure of whether or not to continue, but my mouth was moving at a rate that my brain could not keep up with. "So, I found a guy. He wasn't the right guy; I know that now. I think I knew it then. But I found a guy who I thought could help me move on. I had no idea that he was completely what I didn't need. But I'm so afraid to get out of the relationship…. I was so afraid. I finally worked up the courage tonight and he threatened me. And then he hit me… again… and again." I sniffled, choking back a sob. "So I ran away. I took his key and left him." I looked up, brushing away some of the tears at the corners of my eyes. "I never want to see him again."

"So you thought you'd get utterly smashed to try and compensate for pain?"

"That's the idea." I announced drunkenly, a gay tone filling my voice.

"Is it working?"

I snickered. "Not really. They're all kind of a dull throb now."

He took my by the arm, hauling my out of my seat and in the direction of the door. He pulled out his wallet and placed some money on the counter. "We're going to get you home now," he stated.

"No, I need to have more…" I flailed desperately for the quarter of a glass still sitting in front of my empty chair. "The pain isn't gone yet!" I cried out. I was making a scene, I knew it. But I couldn't help myself… the liquor was talking for me. So I let it. I allowed the foreign beer to control my every move, and let my brain drift slowly away from reality. Then I saw the floor rushing toward me, and my vision of the world began to turn black.

"Where do you live?" A simple question, but it was the next thing that I remembered. I felt sweat-soaked leather beneath me, and a soft, woolen something above me, draped over my body from where I was lying. There was a faint vibration surrounding my body. In all, I felt safe, and at the moment, safe felt good. I recognized that inside of a car and the brown wool jacket he had been wearing. I snuggled into it, still feeling the effects of over-consumed alcohol. I heard myself mutter something and his head nodded.

"You sure you're okay?" I looked at him. When did I say that I ever was? We had stopped; at least, the car had pulled to a halt. His arm was draped over the passenger seat, and he was watching me, almost gauging my reaction.

"Yeah… maybe… no." I smiled sadly. "Things aren't great, but… I can get by."

"You'll understand if I still refuse to believe you?" he asked, turning his attention fully back to the road. I only nodded meekly.

"Turn here," I said, recognizing the street by a small store on the corner. The car slid neatly around the corner and pulled to a stop.

My apartment. It wasn't much, but it was mine. I had moved away from Hinata because I suddenly felt the need to be independent. In my mind, I had relied on them far too long, so I left, packing my things up once Kitsune helped me to find an apartment that was well within my budget. I stumbled up the stairs, half my weight on the railing… the other half on the arm around his shoulder. My feet wanted to go one way, my body the other, and my brain couldn't steer either one straight. But we still managed to get to the door. I shoved the key into the lock, missing a few times. He was patient, waiting calmly for me to open the door. We stepped through the threshold and my knees gave way, nearly sending me to the floor. He kept me upright. I never knew he had gotten so strong…

"Thank you," I said, making my way through the few piles of clothes on the floor. I kicked them into the corner, most of them flying in the direction that I wanted them to go. Cleaning up had never been a true priority, but I'd made a conscious effort to keep most of the floor clear and the room somewhat presentable. Not many people came over besides a few old friends and Kento, but he wouldn't be coming by any longer. At least, I'd refuse to see him.

"It's not a problem. I'll say hello to everyone if I see them anytime soon." He nodded, fidgeting a little. After a few moments, he walked over to the couch and took a seat. His briefcase was by the door and his jacket on one of the hooks in the line of hangers in the entranceway.

"Can I offer you something?" I asked. I felt rude. My apartment was unsatisfactory for him. It felt small, confining… awkward.

"N-no thank you," he stammered. "I guess I should be going."

"You just arrived." The fog in my mind was still trying to clear itself. It wasn't doing a very good job. I sighed, rubbing my head with one hand. What did I order? What was I drinking? My head was spinning a little, but only when I moved. I felt like I had been hit by a truck.

"Yes, but I have a class in the morning, I should be leaving." He went to rise, but something stopped him.

"We haven't seen each other in almost five years," I said softly. "You could just stay the night here." My cheeks flushed involuntarily, and I tried to hide my face. But that would be breaking your vows to Naru. My mind screamed at me, knowing the words that he couldn't say.

"That would be nice, but I should get going." He placed a hand on the side of the couch and rose slowly, making his way over to the door. I could only lean on the counter, nodding slowly so the room didn't begin to move. My eyes followed him as he collected his jacket and briefcase and opened the door.

"Good night sempai," I called, unable to move. My feet seemed to be cemented to the floor. My tongue suddenly swelled in my mouth.

"Good night, Shinobu," he replied. "Good luck," he added.

And he left, the door shutting with a soft click and a barely audible thump. My shoulders slumped and I lay my cheek on the counter. "Good luck," I said to myself. "Yeah, like that would help me any."

o o o o

He was outside the door, his hand still on the door handle. "Am I doing the right thing?" He wasn't sure. She was probably crying now, her tears creating a little crystalline puddle on the countertop.

"Am I doing the right thing?" he repeated. He looked forlornly at the door, contemplating his options. He hadn't been in a meaningful relationship of any kind since nNaru died. He couldn't enter into one because he didn't want to loose anyone ever again. It was a subconscious effort to keep his heart from facing the hurt and pain of loosing Naru. He hated the drinking bouts that followed and the pain of waking up without her by his side or a message from her on his phone telling him about the previous day's events. He missed everything about her. Even then, when Naru had died, she tore a great chunk of his ability to love away from his heart. Now he was wondering if it was time to move on. Maybe it was time to move on.

"Naru?" he whispered after a moment, "what do you think I should do?"

A reply floated in his mind, drifting slowly along with his stream of thought. Idiot, do what your heart feels is right. It was her voice, something she had said so long ago. He looked up, toward the ceiling before looking back at the door. His turned the knob slightly, wondering if he should really go through this door.

"I hope that you can forgive me," he said.

The answer came immediately. Of course…

( Post Fiction )

I expect flames on this and lots of them. I can already seem them in my mind: "Ohmygod! How could you kill Naru?" It's something that I have expected from the beginning. Please don't pass this up as something sad… please add your comments, good or bad. I appreciate everything that you guys say in offense or defense of my writings.

See you next update: Ciuline Ihmenjo