Kendo Wife - Lazy Afternoon - "Heroes"
By MakKeiUra
Send all comments to makkeiura
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Love Hina, Ken Akamatsu does. This is a non-for-profit work of fanfiction with no monies or profit being made from it. No copyright infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This little series owes an obvious debt to Hawker-748's "Loss and Redemption." I must acknowledge that debt with humility and admiration. Random1377's "Steel Rose" also gets props, as well. I also wish to express thanks to Quis Custodiet. If Hawker-748 showed the way with his fics, QC pried the door back open with his. Obvious acknowledgement to Frank Herbert's classic novel "Dune" for an obvious line lift.
RATING WARNING: This story is rated M for Mature for a reason. Adult situations and content involving a clumsy apartment manager and a sword-swinging raven haired goddess lay ahead.
000
Motoko Aoyama slashed her fifty-seventh falling leaf into two with the Hina katana as she continued her afternoon practice. As was her custom, she had been at it for about a half an hour, and would continue for about another half an hour. At the sixty-second sliced leaf, Motoko checked the late afternoon sun as it arced its way across the early September sky. The day had been hot, but not dangerously so, and it being a Saturday that did portend a kind of leisure for most. Most, however, did not include the Aoyama's; Motoko and her husband, Keitaro.
'He is late for afternoon practice,' Motoko thought, then sheathing her blade, she walked over towards the railing. Soon, she found the subject of her thoughts. Motoko smiled, small but affectionate.
Keitaro was carefully finishing up his chore for the day; pulling weeds. From the looks of which, the job had been much more extensive than it had originally looked this morning. Motoko noted that in a few more minutes, her husband and apprentice would have his task complete and would be joining her for afternoon practice. Motoko silently returned to the spot she usually practiced at on the roof deck. She would have to increase the duration of the practice session this afternoon to take into account both her husband's lateness and his fatigue from his work around the Inn. While allowances would be made, the life of a kendoka demanded sacrifice.
Motoko resumed leaf slicing with the Hina blade. In time, Keitaro would have his own katana, but he still had much work to do before he got to that point. Let alone the Secret Techniques. Since he began as her apprentice, she had only allowed him shinai and occasionally a bokken. She had only just began preliminary discussions with Tsuruko about possibly reforging Shisui in the future for Keitaro. Her husband was making progress, significant progress even, but between his studies at Tokyo U, his duties as kanrinin and, of course, daily life at the Hinata it seemed like he hardly had time to sit down before it was time to stand up and walk or run to the next thing on his "to-do" list for the day. Motoko frowned, much was needed to forge a warrior. She knew Keitaro had it, and she had no objections to Keitaro's personal attentiveness in their marriage, but she wondered from time to time as his sensei if there would soon come a time if he would have to take a step back as kanrinin, or lessen his course work at Tokyo U to better manage his day. Motoko blushed, as it was some nights after making love, Keitaro was soundly asleep soon after he took her in his arms, whispered his gratitude and love for her, and then asked if he made her feel good.
Well, of course he did. Amazing even, but soon after a couple more words between them and gentle wishes of a good night and sweet dreams, she could tell he was out like a light. Sheer exhaustion, and not just because Motoko and his lovemaking could be classified as vigorous.
'The way of the sword is never easy,' Motoko thought. 'I will determine what needs to happen next.' Another leaf met its demise at the sharpened edge of the Hina katana.
000
"I apologize for being late, sensei," Keitaro, now dressed in hakama and gi, bowed deeply to Motoko. Motoko was still in the midst of leaf slashing with the Hina blade.
"I am aware of the chores you had undertaken, still you took a while to get changed and to come up here for practice." Motoko spoke clearly, but sternly. She gave Keitaro a knowing look, "what else is the matter, kohei?"
"I… guess, well… it is such a nice afternoon," Keitaro began.
"Yes, it is agreeable," Motoko said, her free arm making a short, almost dismissive wave to the late summer afternoon of Hinata City before them just beyond the deck stretching towards Sagami Bay. A light breeze helped make the sun more tolerable.
"And morning practice was strenuous and fulfilling," Keitaro continued.
"Fair words, and accurate too." Motoko sheathed the Hina katana in its scabbard.
"In full kendo armor too." Keitaro remembered just how much the men helmet had amplified the rising heat of the morning, radiating down throughout his whole body promising a difficult and sweaty day ahead.
"As we always do." Motoko nodded curtly, her signal for Keitaro to get to the damn point already.
"... is it really necessary for afternoon practice today?" Keitaro asked.
"*Necessary*?" Motoko eyebrows arched.
"I'm sorry, sensei," Keitaro sighed. "I guess I'm just not in the mood for practice this afternoon."
"Obviously," Motoko commented. "I thank you for your honesty, but I remind you that moods are thing for cattle and making love, not fighting!" Motoko had raised her voice a notch by the end of her statement.
"As I said," Keitaro bowed, "I am sorry, sensei."
"Not sorry enough!" Motoko moved over to the bench where their equipment sat. She retrieved a shinai, then took several steps back, keeping an eye on her student.
"Shinai!" Motoko directed.
Obediently, Keitaro retrieved the bamboo practice sword from the bench, then stood opposite from Motoko. Master and apprentice, the two raised their shinais.
"Begin!" Motoko commanded.
They began to spar. Motoko measured the intensity of Keitaro's strikes, and steadily increased the rate of her strikes to challenge her student more and more. Keitaro mostly blocked, but every so often a light strike hit Motoko on the forearm or hip. For his part, Keitaro frequently got a nice jab to his forearms, lower legs, or an even lighter one to his stomach.
Kendo wife and husband sparred for a solid hour, sweat drenching both of their gis and hakamas, and their legs and arms burning from the exertion. Motoko noted that Keitaro's fingers where they gripped the shinai were starting to grip harder and harder in order to maintain grip on the training weapon with the perspiration pouring from his fingers; it was at this moment that Motoko made her decision.
"Enough!" Motoko raised her hand up, her signal to him to take a rest. She laid down the shinai properly on the deck, then bowed to him. Keitaro returned the bow, breathing hard.
As Motoko went to the bench to retrieve two bottles of water from a small cooler, she mentally complimented her husband that he carefully and properly laid his shinai on the ground and remained standing, waiting for her.
Motoko returned, silently handing the cold bottle of water to Keitaro, then nodded her permission for them both to sit down. They sat across from each other in what could pass for a meditative pose if they were not gratefully drinking their bottles of water.
After a few moments of catching her breath, and taking a few more sips of water, Motoko spoke: "You fight when the need arises; no matter if you are tired or not."
"I understand, sensei. I apologize for my lack of attentiveness."
Motoko acknowledged this with an ever so slight nod.
The bottles of water were soon finished, and adhering to routine Motoko and Keitaro performed their ending meditation for a practice session. As their meditation proceeded, both noted the usual sounds of a late summer afternoon at the Hinata Inn: a stray bird song, the rustling of the leaves in the trees, Kitsune yelling at her precious race horses on the television to help her make rent without working overtime.
At once, by habit as well as almost by another sense, Motoko and Keitaro opened their eyes. The meditation was over. Silently, both of them rose and bowed to each other. Motoko turned, retrieved the Hina blade, and walked over to the stairs.
"I will see you at dinner, kohei."
"Yes, sensei. I will do better at practice tomorrow."
"We will speak after dinner regarding this, kohei." Seeing the slightly puzzled look on her husband's face, Motoko turned and descended the staircase. Keitaro simply turned around and began his usual ritual of cleaning up and putting away their equipment, as a proper student of the God's Cry School of Kendo should.
000
"Ah, good afternoon, Motoko-sempai!" Shinobu called out as she turned around slightly from the stove and the various pots she was tending to there.
"Good afternoon, Shinobu-chan." Motoko smiled a touch.
Motoko stopped in the kitchen for another cup of water before proceeding to the hot spring to freshen up before dinner. While she liked the larger bath that Keitaro had built for them soon after they were married, she still enjoyed the palatial enjoyment of the Hinata hot spring. Once Motoko had her water in hand, she noted the high school girl seemed to be preparing a larger meal than usual.
"Company tonight, Shinobu-chan?"
The girl instantly blushed, "Oh, Kosuke-kun and I are studying for exams tonight. So I figured…"
Motoko smiled, "say no more. Just remember what I, Kei-kun, and Naru-sempai have told you; even if she is away on vacation with Sakata-san."
Shinobu shyly nodded.
"And certainly not what I have told you!" Kitsune declared as she sauntered into the kitchen with her laptop, promptly sitting down at the small kitchen table in the corner where she usually did her work for the local newspapers.
"No teasing Kosuke-san like last time, Kitsune-san," Motoko shook her head. "The poor boy almost turned into a blubbering mess with your constant questions about his intentions towards our little Shinobu-chan."
"Just keepin' the boy on his toes!" Kitsune opened the laptop with a sigh. "Oh Typhoon Toshiro, could you have at least placed for me today? Now I have to do honest work!" She began pecking at the keyboard. "Well, at least it's quiet enough to work in the kitchen with Suu and Sara in Guam with Seta and Haruka."
Motoko nodded in agreement with the resident fox as she sipped some more water, then turned her attention back to Shinobu. "And this really is a bit of a large dinner even when expecting a guest, Shinobu-chan. Thank you for making extra for Kei-kun. He has had a hard day."
"I'll say," Kitsune chuckled, looking over the laptop's monitor at Motoko. "From the sounds outside, I almost thought you two were practicing something else again."
Motoko blushed, all at once pleasant memories came back to her of the last time Keitaro had accidentally pulled down her hakama *and* what she wore underneath. She sighed. "Kendo is very rigorous."
"If you could call it that," Kitsune replied with a leer. "Now you have a partner in Kendo as well as life and you just relish mixing business with pleasure."
Motoko gave the freelancer an even look. "Kei-kun knew he was taking on a way of life when we began seeing each other; I told him it would not be easy."
"He… does seem very busy a lot of the times," Shinobu commented.
Motoko nodded. "That will be addressed, Shinobu-chan. I thank you for your care and concern." Motoko then washed out her cup, then placed it on the dish rack to dry.
"Ladies, see you at dinner." Motoko bowed to them each and then turned to exit the kitchen when a look in Kitsune's eye stopped her.
"Yes, Kitsune-san?"
"All joking aside, Motoko," Kitsune drawled smoothly, "how can you order him around from sunrise to sunset and then it's all lovey-dovey until the next day?"
"... I cannot imagine how difficult it is for him, Motoko-sempai," Shinobu was looking at her now too, Motoko realized. "Is this really what he had in mind when you first started seeing each other?"
Kitsune snapped a finger in Motoko's direction. "Yeah, I bet Keitaro really said, 'train me day and night, Motoko-chan, even though I'll likely never be any where near your level…"
Motoko looked down for a moment, feeling a slight sting at the other girls' insinuations. She could just walk out of the room now in silence. It really was none of their business after all. In fact, she could just say that. But these were her friends-his friends too. Then she looked up to gaze at Kitsune in the eyes, and then to Shinobu.
Motoko sighed, then a slight smile graced her lips as she remembered. "Kei-kun told me he wanted to be a hero."
000
Thirteen months earlier…
Motoko had arrived home after her after school college entrance exam prep classes one day, and noticed right away that everyone was out doing whatever mundane, fun, or pressing need was being fulfilled that day. Immediately realizing that there would be no need to even announce her return once she entered the front door of the Hinata, Motoko had silently taken off her shoes, put on her house slippers, and proceeded upstairs to her room in order to change for her afternoon practice.
She stopped. Had she just heard something? Yes, she had. Music. Not just the ordinary background music of life one would expect from the radio being carelessly left on, or the television, this was different. The music was familiar. Motoko listened a bit longer, then correctly placed where the sounds were coming from. The manager's room. Motoko proceeded in that direction. At first, she had thought that Keitaro had been out attending class, or doing something else that required his attention as manager. He had been unusually dedicated to keeping himself occupied in the months since his time in America with Seta-sensei on Keitaro's first archeological dig.
'That's right, he left just after Naru-san told him she wanted him as a brother, and not as her boyfriend,' Motoko's memory helpfully jabbed at her as she closed in on her target. The simple door marked, "Manager." Motoko listened. Yes, she remembered the song well enough. She had heard it often enough coming from Tsuruko's room growing up. That had been notable in and of itself as one of Tsuruko Aoyama's few concessions to modernity and anything not Japanese.
Motoko knocked three times on the door, clearing her throat. "Urashima-san? Are you there?"
A brief shuffling around in the room, then a hasty lowering of the volume on Keitaro's stereo. "Motoko-chan? Is there something I can help you with?"
Motoko hesitated briefly. Well, she had already announced her presence, and here she was at his door, so she might as well ask.
"May I come in?"
"S-sure," Keitaro answered. She heard him pat-pat over to the door, then he slid it open. Keitaro stood there dressed in the usual ratty old clothes he wore when he was cleaning. Right beside him in the room was Keitaro's cleaning equipment, with the usual implements he used for dusting. Motoko realized that Keitaro had been cleaning his room. Perfectly normal and commendable. Why did she need to see him in his room? Certainly why did she need to do that when no one else was home?
Silently, Motoko walked into the room, and slide the door closed behind her. For a moment she regarded Keitaro silently, then: "David Bowie's 'Heroes'?"
Keitaro nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry, was the stereo too loud?"
"No," Motoko shook her head. "Why… that song, Urashima-san?"
"I like it."
"Why do you like it?"
Keitaro looked down for a moment, then back up to the kendo girl in his room. "Because when I was little I always wanted to be a hero, of some kind." He chuckled, blushing a bit. "You know, something silly like that."
Motoko looked down. "I do not think it is silly if it comes from an honest place, Urashima-san," Motoko stated solemnly. "I heard you singing. Even with your lack of skill with the English language, I could tell you were reaching for something deeper."
"It… it's just a song, Motoko-chan," Keitaro replied, a bit nervous. What was Motoko getting at? Over the past few months she had started to ask more questions of him, or just simply seemed interested in talking even if it was about completely mundane topics like his course work for Seta or what paint choices fit the Hinata's unique building personality. "That's all it is, Motoko-chan," Keitaro continued. "Just a song I like for a silly reason."
"Not when it clearly means this much to you." Motoko was not letting this slide. "You do not sing out loud like that to other songs in any language." She gave him an even stare, hard and intense. "I will only ask this question once, Urashima-san. Do you want to be a hero?"
He thought about it for a moment. It would be so easy to just clam up and dismiss this, but the look in Motoko's eyes compelled Keitaro to take a moment, close his eyes…
...and dream.
"Yes, I do." Keitaro answered instinctively.
"Why?"
Keitaro looked down, and was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed as he raised his eyes to meet hers. "Because whenever one of Suu's inventions goes haywire, or when renegade treasure hunters try to steal some of Seta-sensei's artifacts, or the occasional groper tries to molest one of you, it just feels like all I can do is run away, take a lot of hits, and then bounce back for more. I can't attack like you, Naru-chan, Seta-sensei or even Kanako-chan can."
"Why did you not take up Seta-sensei's offer of training in Jeet Kune Do?" Motoko asked.
"You ever try picking up a pencil and writing with the wrong hand?"
Motoko considered this for a moment. "I understand," she said. "It just did not fit."
"No," Keitaro sighed. "Something was missing." Keitaro found himself looking at Motoko intently in that moment, finding understanding about this curious feeling he felt himself struggling with more and more lately.
Motoko's eyes gazed into his, looking deeply into them. "Very well, it is decided then. You will meet me on the deck at dawn; do *not* be late. We will begin your training. Wear something you do not mind getting damaged or destroyed. "
The next morning, after Keitaro had endured a crash-course in beginning God's Cry Kendo, he knelt sweating profusely, his clothes tattered, his body covered in various light hits that he knew would bruise in the days to come. Keitaro's breathing was labored as Motoko stood above him with her favorite practice shinai in her right hand, her left hand reaching out to him.
"How do you feel, kohei?" Motoko had asked.
"... beautiful, sensei." Keitaro rasped.
"Do you want more?" Motoko smiled.
"More than anything!"
Later on that night as he soaked in his small bath, Keitaro realized that that had been their first date.
This realization was confirmed the next night after afternoon practice when Motoko requested permission to visit the room of her new student. Once the kendo girl had slid the door shut, she began to carefully scan the room, observing every minute detail. Keitaro had silently stood, almost at attention, waiting. Finally, he asked if his sensei would like some tea. She had silently nodded that she would. When Motoko had seated herself at Keitaro's kotatsu, she began to sip the tea after indicating for Keitaro to also sit down. Finally, Motoko set her cup down.
"Kohei, I need you to be completely open with me." Motoko said slowly.
"Sure, sensei." Keitaro replied.
"Keitaro-kun…" Motoko said, suddenly uncertain, blushing a bit at using his given name in such a familiar way. "I am going to look through all of your personal belongings."
"Um… why, if I may ask, sensei?" Keitaro felt more bewildered by the request than anything else.
"I need to be sure." Motoko said simply.
Keitaro was about to ask for what she needed to be sure of, but the look on Motoko's face told him that perhaps it would be best to simply trust her.
"Go right ahead, Motoko-sensei."
So for the next hour Motoko carefully went through all of Keitaro's personal possessions . There wasn't much, but Motoko was meticulous. With Motoko's permission Keitaro studied math while Motoko did this. Silently, Keitaro made some more tea, which Motoko carefully accepted as she started leafing through Keitaro's books, magazines, and sketchbooks.
"Kohei?"
"Yes, sensei?"
Motoko pushed his sketchbook towards him (on the page was a young woman with a bikini on), a magazine of elegant lingerie, and a fairly simple old bound book that the old-timers would have termed a marriage manual. "Are these the extent of the material you have on these topics in your possession?"
"Yes, sensei." Keitaro blushed.
All at once, her decision was made. 'I will storm the castle,' Motoko thought.
Motoko picked up the sketchbook and magazine and slide them to the corner of the table. She then sat with her hands folded in her lap in front of her. "Am I not…" her brow furrowed as she searched for the word, "better?"
Keitaro blushed even deeper. "Yes," he stated with an edge of steel in his voice.
"Do you wish to be with me as both student and…" Motoko once again found herself searching for the right word, "boyfriend?"
"Yes, I do." Keitaro nodded for each word. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry despite the tea he had just consumed.
Motoko placed one hand on the top of the kotatsu, facing towards where Keitaro had his hand. "... then that is the way it shall be."
Gulping almost audibly, Keitaro slowly reached out his hand to touch Motoko's. A part of him was still scared that she would recoil once his hand made contact, or worse slap him. Once his hands touched the top of Motoko's fingers, and he noted the pleased expression on her face, Keitaro took the initiative and placed his whole hand over hers. This soon became a full hand-clasp as their eyes were drawn from the bodily contact between them up to each other's faces.
The next day prior to their next training session, Motoko stated the rules: Dawn to dusk, sensei and kohei, dusk to dawn Motoko-chan and Kei-kun. Meal times would be a break from the rules, but not to excess. Motoko would also be welcome in Keitaro's room at any time to make certain there were no illicit influences creeping into his life distracting him away from the path of the sword or her. In return, Motoko admitted her secret hobby; reading and writing romance stories and also her door was open to him whenever he needed either his sensei or his Motoko-chan. Granted, a lot of the times Keitaro came to her door at night with a sleeping Kaolla Suu wrapped around his neck and simply needed assistance prying her loose. Then there were the (many) times that Suu insisted on a giant slumber party with Sara and Shinobu. Nights like that it was fortunate for Motoko and Keitaro to even have time to share a quiet moment holding hands. On nights that were more tranquil, Keitaro sketched and Motoko wrote. Then they would examine each other's work. Soon, Motoko blushingly admitted that some of her stories beared a striking similarity to reality; especially the one about the conquering Lady Samurai and the shy, virginal, unmarried owner of an Inn that the samurai's army had requisitioned for the Daimyo's war effort and, as the samurai had informed the Innkeeper, it is his responsibility to tend to her needs personally during her stay, starting with a goodnight kiss.
Motoko also stressed simplicity in his lifestyle. Not that Keitaro was extravagant before, but she emphasized the honesty and frugality of a true samurai. Taking this advice, Keitaro started to carefully scrutinize how he spent the scant few extra monies he had after paying for the Inn's expenses and basic necessities at the end of the week. His clothes became simpler, and he took up Motoko's habit of frequently wearing a gi and hakama. For her part, Motoko diversified her wardrobe somewhat outside of the excuse of weather conditions. On the occasion of her nineteenth birthday, Keitaro had given her a white silk blouse and black jeans for more casual occasions. She also discovered an increasing fondness for action-adventure manga to compliment her existing interest in romance novels. Motoko also found that she grew to enjoy Keitaro's photo-sticker hobby. Eventually, she started her own collection, though she confounded Keitaro with her odd choice of unique eye-wear in each photo sticker, the latest being her insistence on the classic American Groucho Marx glasses complete with fake nose and moustache.
After a month, Motoko asked Keitaro how he felt about her presence in his life decision-making, he simply replied: "Safe."
Not that Keitaro was free from all decision making, managing the particulars of the Inn, or his Tokyo U coursework, but Motoko's teaching gave him an added perspective and goal with which to make those decisions. Keitaro also insisted that he, Naru, and Mutsumi assist her in preparing for the university entrance examinations that were to occur just before Motoko's high school graduation. And, just barely, she made it into Tokyo U on her first try. For her part, Motoko found that Keitaro's clumsiness lessened as she focused on basic stances and kata's endlessly, along with a strict daily training schedule for him. For all the other times that Keitaro accidentally pulled down her hakama, Motoko simply took to wearing loose pajama pants underneath.
000
Keitaro sat in his and Motoko's private bath, stretching out as he allowed his aching muscles to relax after his day. Once again, he noted that his glasses were in their case sitting on a small stool next to the wall. Mentally, he totalled up all he had done this Saturday, and decided to call it a success. Even with the afternoon practice that his body protested against, Keitaro was proud that he had taken his sensei and wife's rebuke without any resentment; he simply absorbed the lesson that was being taught. Keitaro reached up his arms as he looked out at the balcony as the evening sky continued its march until evening, he began to mentally prepare himself for tomorrow. It being a Sunday, there would still be training and study, but grocery shopping in the city with Motoko would take the place of chores. He blushed, frequently Sunday also meant a mid-morning break after practice that more often than not resulted in him and Motoko making love and then a welcome nap afterwards.
His mind wandered as he shut his eyes. Thirteen months since his life changed. It was three months after that fateful day that Motoko asked him if he wanted to be a hero that he had confessed his love for Motoko, three months after that he proposed marriage, a month after that they were married (but not before Tsuruko had gifted them with a new edition of a marriage manual; the illustrations inside completely scandalizing both Motoko and Keitaro), and now that was six months ago. In just the past two months, Keitaro and Motoko had accompanied Tsuruko and her husband Mitsuru (though Tsuruko was primarily along in an advisory/teacher role) on a God's Cry School assignment to help a family that had been plagued by a hostile spirit and Motoko had whispered in his ear before bed one night that she had stopped birth control and when the time came, Tsuruko had agreed to assist with his further training.
Keitaro blushed, remembering the conversation he and Motoko had prior to their marriage about children.
"You are fine with children whenever I decide, is that correct?" She had said, a hint of pleased surprise in her eyes.
"Yeah. I mean, sure I'd love to hear and talk about when you think is the best time, of course, but I trust you." He had smiled brightly at her.
"I know you trust me, Kei-kun. But it is a serious matter."
"Look… Motoko-chan. I know how much of a change it was for you to even tolerate me, then take me on as an apprentice, realizing you liked me and wanted to date me… love me... let alone be my wife," Keitaro gazed into her eyes. "You have already given me so much, and still want to give more. How can I refuse your good judgment in that area?"
After that, for the second time in her life, Motoko Aoyama actually *glomped* someone.
Keitaro smiled, opening his eyes as he relaxed, reminiscing about the soft yet hard make-out session that had followed. 'Well, nowadays we get to enjoy so much more…'
Almost in answer to that thought, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "A yen for your thoughts, Kei-kun?"
Keitaro smiled warmly. "Hey, Motoko-chan. Am I late for dinner?"
"Shinobu-chan said about forty minutes." Her fingers traipsed their way across Keitaro's shoulders. "So we have some time."
Keitaro being Keitaro after such a hard Saturday demanding such focus and dedication, his mind choose that moment to blank completely. "A… quick bath?" he ventured after a moment of gazing at his beautiful raven haired wife with a happy, dumb look on his face.
Motoko sighed. Some things never changed. "No, the discussion we are supposed to have after dinner."
"Moving up the schedule, then." Keitaro nodded. "Okay."
"You are working yourself too hard, Kei-kun."
"I'm getting everything done." Keitaro shrugged.
"Barely, while running yourself ragged." Motoko ran her fingers along Keitaro's neck and shoulders, beginning a soft kneading motion.
"I get through the day..."
"Without an ounce of energy left if the need arose for more from you." Motoko said with a hint of steel to go along with the slightly increasing motions of her fingers on his shoulders.
"I cannot neglect my responsibilities, Motoko-chan." Keitaro let out an involuntary moan as he relaxed into his wife's ministrations.
"Nor am I asking you to," Motoko hummed. "But there are scheduling alternatives…"
"You mean, besides turning the Inn over to Kanako-chan?" Keitaro smirked.
"*Anything* but that." Motoko gave Keitaro an ever so slight pinch just above his shoulder blades.
"Ow!" Keitaro's winced, chuckling, then looked down. "I guess… it might be time to go part-time at Tokyo U. Seta-sensei said I could if I needed to."
"I think that would be prudent decision on your part, Kei-kun."
"Okay, I'll call him tomorrow on his satellite phone and then set up a meeting with Dean Matsui. Most of this term's credits can be wrapped up in about a month." Keitaro thought out loud.
"And you can rearrange the maintenance schedule around the Inn until the lighter course load comes around." Motoko said now fully massaged her husband's shoulders.
"Y-yes, I can do that, Motoko-chan..."
"That's an order from both sensei and wife." Motoko raised her tone.
"I understand… thank you." Keitaro raised his hand out of the water and up to Motoko's to squeeze it. "I love you, Motoko-chan."
"I love you too, Kei-kun." Motoko smiled, blushing at the warmth radiating from her husband's hand on hers. Even after all the times they've done something so simple, it still stunned her sometimes.
"... there is something else." Keitaro said.
"Oh?"
"It's about today. At practice, sensei." He sighed, a sound of defeat.
"Well, I'd rather you told me first as your wife."
"Okay, Motoko-chan." Keitaro did smile at that. He thought for a moment, "am I ever going to have the kind of control you have? Or anything close to it?"
"You have only just started."
"I know, and I can see the progress I've made," Keitaro shrugged. "But today I barely forced myself to get up there for afternoon practice, I was so exhausted. I knew I was failing as a warrior…"
"I could tell that when you tried to talk me out of afternoon practice," Motoko said evenly. "Thus, your lesson for today."
Keitaro winced as, as if the emphasize the point, Motoko kneaded his shoulders harder, working out the tension.
"I just wonder if I'll ever be a tenth as good as you are. I don't mean just with a blade, but with how you are ready at any moment for whatever might come your way. Let alone the Secret Techniques." Keitaro said. Then, mentally an unspoken thought reared its head. 'Well, unless there's turtles involved,' Keitaro thought, making a supreme effort to keep his lips tightly shut lest he accidentally voice it.
"I told you it would be a lifelong journey; a quest." Motoko said quietly. "God's Cry and the Aoyama clan mission is to fight supernatural evils and for earthly justice."
"I just hope and pray I will someday be strong enough to help you on that quest…" Keitaro said, looking down. "Today, I was not strong..."
"You were strong when you helped Kenji-san." Motoko reminded Keitaro firmly.
Keitaro nodded slowly. The family with the evil spirit, the Kazukos, had been afflicted with a spirit in their family home for around two years with encounters with the spirit starting off fairly benign and mischievous, but progressively growing more hostile and disruptive to the family's ordinary life. Moments of quiet were so few and far between that even Mrs. Kazuko's best friend had witnessed the supernatural events by just talking to her friend over the phone.
Tsuruko, Mitsuru, Motoko and Keitaro spent barely an entire night in the house to exorcise and purify the spirit, but it seemed much longer. Even after observing the various spiritual disturbances and questioning the family, the group's attempts to find a way to attack the demon were coming up fruitless. The group was resigning themselves to a long and difficult exorcism stay in the house when, through Keitaro's clumsiness, luck had smiled on the group when he tripped on the floor, knocking down a framed family portrait in the bedroom of the eldest son, twenty-one year old Kenji Kazuko. The portrait broke, and amid Keitaro's customary storm of apologies, he noticed several pictures hidden behind the smiling Kazuko family portrait. The pictures were several doubles of photo album pictures that featured, in part, but folded over to showcase, Mrs. Kazuko's best friend Natsuko. That discovery on Keitaro's part had broken the logjam in the group's investigations of the spirit and the reason for its underlying harassment of the family. As Tsuruko pointed out, once they knew the reason why, Mitsuru could begin a successful exorcism with Motoko covering him from any spiritual attacks. The group had sat down with the Kazuko family, and after some emotional questions and answers, the truth was found out.
Kenji was not-so-secretly in love with Natsuko and had been for years. Natsuko was engaged to be married to another man. Kenji had admitted his feelings directly to Natsuko and also let them be known to his parents on more than one occasion in unambiguous terms.
This reality, while painful, would ordinarily simply be dealt with in the way people usually do in situations like that; by living and doing the best they could. Kenji did not hold a grudge for Natsuko marrying, and wished her well. While bittersweet, he had no problem attending the wedding. This should have been the end of the situation, but as Keitaro pointed out, this is not what the Kazukos and Natsuko did. Instead, they ignored Kenji's admission of love and when Tsuruko pressed them on their view of the revelation that should not have been a revelation, the Kazukos' viewed it at most as an embarrassing, immature inconvenience to Kenji fully and enthusiastically helping Natsuko's wedding preparations and helping Natsuko's fiance get their future home ready to be moved into.
As Tsuruko had told the Kazukos with that ever-present coy smile on her face. "Your denial of your son's honest expression of his feelings caused this spirit to infest your home. Despair, resentment, and repression are oftentimes too tempting for evil spirits to pass up. Especially in those with great mental and spiritual strength, but not the training to guard against such infestation. "
Predictably, perhaps, the parents blamed their son. Motoko watched proudly as Keitaro stood close by Kenji, telling his parents their son had no idea this would happen, had no idea until now of his connection to the spirit realm, and more importantly did not wish for this to happen in the first place. Furthermore the idea that Kenji should be ashamed for falling in love and speaking of it to those it concerned was just plain dumb and dishonorable.
Mr. Kazuko had stood up in indignation, shouting at Mitsuru and Tsuruko to force an apology from Keitaro. They had laughed in response. Mrs. Kazuko then turned to Motoko, saying she should be ashamed of the idiotic apprentice she had married. Motoko glared at Mrs. Kazuko and replied that she's proud of him and they are fortunate that it is him criticizing them and not her, her big sister, or her brother in law. For Keitaro let his compassion guide him first and foremost in all dealings.
Keitaro sighed, "I hope Kenji-san will be all right."
"We gave him the money his parents had given us for exorcising the spirit." Motoko reassured him. "And we gave him the directions and contact information to Mitsuru's friend in Hokkaido. I have heard of Ishijima-sensei; he's very good at teaching control of mental and spiritual abilities."
"Yeah, I know." Keitaro yawned a bit. "I just wish I had shown the same strength today that I did with him."
"But you took the lesson being taught earlier today with resilience and humility." Motoko smiled. "The rest will come in time, Kei-kun. Trust and listen to your sensei." She stopped massaging his shoulders, then pat-patted his head. "Now, stand up and let me make sure you are not getting any… training scars." Keitaro heard the smirk in Motoko's voice.
Obediently, Keitaro stood up. Smoothly, Motoko's firm but silky hands ran up and down Keitaro's sides, his hips, backside, and down his legs. "Good, very good," Motoko whispered. "Turn around."
Keitaro did as instructed, and soon found his lips locked securely with Motoko's. Instinctively, his hands reached over the wooden side of the bath to run around Motoko's sides, and up her back, all around the simple light green evening kimono that she put on after her bath in the main hot spring. His hands soon found their way underneath, wandering over her chest wrappings, then they rose up to her shoulders, lifting and letting the kimono pool to the floor around Motoko's feet. Now Keitaro reached into his wife and sensei's luxurious raven hair, running his fingers through them as they continued to kiss. He could smell the pleasant scent of her freshly washed hair.
Motoko moaned, one of her hands running up and down her husband and student's back as her other hand reached up to where her chest bindings began as she made her best effort to get the traditional undergarment off of her as soon as possible. Soon, with Keitaro's assistance, the bandages were pooled in ribbons around Motoko's kimono. His hands, still mediating between his male needs and desires, and also his earnest desire to please her, and to put her suggestions into use, worked and massaged their way around her chest, practicing and learning.
'The hands I have trained.' Motoko thought absently as she moaned, kissing Keitaro harder.
"Want another bath, Motoko-chan?" Keitaro asked amid his kisses, a smile on his lips as they started to trace the outline of her chin, questing lower to lathe attention on Motoko's neck.
"Y-yes, Kei-kun!"
"You're still a little bit overdressed.." Keitaro smirked as he ran his hands down her lower back, resting briefly on her panty-covered bottom, starting to run his fingers beneath the waistband ever so slightly…
"Mmmm, Kei…" Motoko moaned, her tongue playing with his.
With a fairly skillful play of fingers of both hands Keitaro managed to get Motoko's underwear off of her shapely bottom and down her legs and pooled on the floor at her feet with a helpful little assist from Motoko successfully anticipating Keitaro's move and moving her body accordingly. Soon, skillfully with Keitaro's help, Motoko got herself into the bath and then both lovers were entwined in each other's arms, sending small waves over the brim of the wooden bath Keitaro had carefully constructed. He picked his wife up in his arms, assisted by the water, and was very pleased to find that Motoko had opened her legs in greeting for him as he set her up against the wall of the bath.
"K-Kei-taro..! Oh! Ah!... I love you!" she whispered huskily as she felt him stiffening against her inner thigh, and felt his lips on her neck, sucking at the flesh greedily.
"I love you, my wife… my sensei!" then almost to punctuate the statement, Keitaro and Motoko were one. Motoko moaned sharply, her back arching against the wooden bath as she instinctively encircled her arms around Keitaro's back more, her fingernails just digging in so on Keitaro's skin. They moved together now, thrashing and sloshing the bath water around, small waves crashing into the entwined husband and wife and onto the deck outside the bath. Keitaro moaned, completely enraptured with the feelings of being inside his wife, kissing her, caressing her, and now it was time for something more…
It never failed to take her by rapturous surprise whenever her apprentice, did this, but as Motoko arched her back to enjoy another wave of pleasure as the two made love, she felt Keitaro's skillful fingers darting down where they were connected as husband and wife, and soon those ever well-trained digits were beginning a well coordinated attack on a very sensitive bud; an attack that always pierced her inner defenses…
Keitaro felt Motoko clench around him, her gritted his teeth in pleasure at the almost electric feelings of pleasure it evoked as he moved faster, more ragged, harder against Motoko as he gave in to the ages old rhythm of man and woman, husband and wife, and now sensei and apprentice together. All the while, his disciplined fingers continued to drum beneath the water against Motoko's womanly flower. Precise control was practiced by Keitaro as he felt his peak building, and also moved his fingers in quicker motions to help his wife meet the cresting wave that started to crash into him...
"Mo-mo-motoko-chan…!" Keitaro hissed, spending himself deep within her.
Motoko let out a short, but husky shriek as she felt her own pleasure collide with her. Indeed, it almost felt like a refreshing, life giving blast of air was enveloping them as more water rippled and kissed the entwined lovers and splashed onto the floor. "K-keitaro-kun!" Below the water of the bath, her legs wrapped around her husband's, knowing his strength was about to give out, Motoko supported his weight with her arms as they embraced each other in the cooling bath.
As their mingled breath slowly started to catch up with the married kendo couple, Motoko regarded her husband as he rested his sweaty brow against her forehead gently. 'Perhaps a baby this time…'
000
Kitsune closed her laptop, looking up from where she sat at the kitchen table. Her fox eyes peered out the window across the room. She had seen something. Slowly rising from her seat, she stretched for a moment, then strode across the empty kitchen towards the door to the HInata's backyard. Shinobu had excused herself from the quietly cooking meal for a scant few moments to use the restroom before her Kosuke-kun arrived.
Kitsune opened the door, scanning the green, freshly weeded back yard until her eyes happened on the only thing that was out of place. A bucket, and what appeared to be some white bandages. She grinned, soon she had collected the two out of place items and set them back inside on an empty chair. Kitsune sauntered to the refrigerator, retrieved a can of beer, opened it, and took a long sip.
'Really,' she thought, 'second time this week. Can't be a coincidence… only a strong gale of wind could have blown those down. Looks like Motoko is going to need Tsuruko-sama's help with teaching Keitaro how to control those funky ki blasts sooner rather than later.' The fox grinned, already making plans to be a fly on the wall for those conversations, and also how best to tease the couple when they finally made it down for dinner.
END
000
AFTERWARD: Kendo Wife is intended to be a loose, but connected and continuing series of stories about Keitaro and Motoko's life together. I started off with the idea of instead of Motoko going through a drastic "thawing" that would result in a relationship between her and Keitaro, I decided to depict Motoko coming to a few different conclusions. First one being that Keitaro is not a pervert, the second being that not all men are scum, and the third one being that it is her (and also Keitaro's) mission in life to stand as examples to men and women on how to live and lead honorable lives while standing against true perversions, evil spirits, and assholes in general.
The series is not intended to be linear in any way, so an installment might take place in the past, or the future, or there may even be a tangent of some kind. For example, I might detail more the Kazuko mission, or one of Motoko's romance stories. While Adult content is certainly a possibility, I am not making it an obligation.
Finally, I make no apologies for making Tsuruko into a David Bowie fan.
In any event, I hope this has been appreciated and enjoyed. See you next time! Thanks for reading!