A Second Chance for Love

"You invented a what," Shinobu asked in disbelief. Shinobu Maehera, Tokyo University graduate and owner of the Hinata Café, had finished celebrating her 25th birthday when her friend, Su Koalla, informed her of latest scientific achievement.

Still drinking her iced sake, Su replied nonchalantly, "yep, just finished it the other day. It's a temporal inversion field generator – in other words – a time machine." Su was the resident genius of Hinata Springs, her brilliance capable of almost any scientific feat, but time travel? Shinobu had never known her friend to be a liar, but what she had just professed was impossible – wasn't it?

Su continued, "The only problem is I can't send anyone forward or backward in time. The field is too unstable for organic matter. I once sent a banana ten minutes into the future and well, let's just say I had to put it out of its misery."

Feeling the effects of the alcohol in her system, Shinobu laughed, "Too bad, it would be nice to go back and revisit old memories, maybe even correct old mistakes." As she uttered the words, Shinobu's mind drifted to memories of Keitaro Urishima, owner and former manager of the Hinata Apartments.

Su noticed the change in her friend's countenance, recognizing the feeling of longing that she too felt for the man they had both fallen in love with. Seven years had past since he married his promise girl, Naru Narusegawa, but neither could move on with their lives when it came to matters of the heart.

"Would you go back and change things," Su asked, her voice turning solemn, "to be with him." Shinobu was surprised to hear her friend say something so ridiculous. She loved Keitaro, and because of that love, would never deny him his promise girl. She turned to the island princess and with earnest, asked, "Did you build that machine to be with him?"

There was silence between the two. Su, her eyes staring off into the distance, quietly sipped her sake. Shinobu's gaze did not waiver, her eyes focused on her friend.

"Yes," Su replied, then returning Shinobu's gaze, she continued, "I never got over losing him Shinobu, did you?" Shinobu retorted, "No, Su. Seven years, and the only man I have ever loved was sempai, but I don't care how much I love him, it doesn't justify tampering with his destiny."

Su closed her eyes after this remark, mulling over Shinobu's words carefully. She knew that altering the past could have dramatic consequences for the timeline. Still, the aching in her heart needed relief.

Su opened her eyes, and glanced over to her friends lying in a drunken stupor on the floor. It wouldn't be fair to them either. They had all fallen in love with Keitaro. Stealing him from Naru to satisfy her own heart would be wrong.

"You're right Shinobu, it wouldn't be right. I'll destroy the machine tomorrow," Su spoke out, her voice filling with sorrow. Shinobu, relieved at her friend's rare show of maturity, replied, "I' m proud of you Su. It's the right decision. Now, enough of this sad business, let's get drunk." Su's ears seemed to perk up at this suggestion. "Now you're talking lady," Su responded, and then added "hey, let's sneak into Kitsune's room, she sure to have some sake left in her secret stash." Suddenly, Shinobu burst out into a run towards Kitsune's room, leaving her stunned friend behind. Shinobu called out, "Last one there gets to watch me drink myself stupid." Su, a broad grin crossing her face, leapt from her seat in hot pursuit of her friend.

In the corner, two eyes opened. Motoko Aoyama, swordswoman of the Shinmeiryu and the most feared lawyer in all of Hinata Springs, rose from her spot on the floor. Like her friends Kitsune and Mutsumi, she had drunk herself silly in celebration of Shinobu's birthday. Unlike them, she hadn't passed out. She feigned sleep when she noticed that Keitaro and Naru were making their way to their bedroom, groping each other along the way.

She also loved Keitaro and like the rest of the Hinata residents, she had never found anyone who could fill the hole left in her heart once he had gotten married. She was happy for them. They were after all her closest friends, but regret clung to her tenaciously.

She longed for his touch, but more than that, she wanted to be with him – to be his woman in all things. It was justification enough for her to meddle with fate. She had overheard the conversation between Su and Shinobu. Though she knew it was wrong, Motoko had made her decision – she would have her second chance.

Motoko sped to Su's room. She opened the door quietly, not wanting to alert the others of her actions. The jungle forest that had once filled Su's apartment was gone now, uprooted the day after Keitaro's wedding. Su's only reply when asked why she did it was: "It wasn't fun anymore." Replacing the jungle motif was a futuristic, laboratory, complete with smoky beakers, flashing lights, and whirling doodads that Motoko could not identify.

In the far corner, lay the microwave that went missing a few weeks back. "So that's what happened to it," Motoko spoke out loud. She then noticed that on top of the stolen appliance was a plaque that read: Time Machine.

Chuckling to herself at her friend's zany sense of humor, Motoko headed towards the device. She noticed that the microwave was attached to large metal box through an entanglement of tubes and wires. She examined the control panel and was surprised at how user friendly it seemed. There was even a sign that contained the operating instructions for the machine.

Taking a piece of paper from Su's desk, Motoko committed her feelings into her words. Several minutes later, Motoko finished her letter. As she placed it into the microwave her ears began to twitch. Her keen senses, honed by years of martial arts training, detected the faint sounds of footsteps. Shinobu and Su were coming – she didn't have much time.

Reading the instructions, she inputted the place and date of the temporal inversion into the control panel. Before she could press enter, Su opened the door to her room. "Hey Motoko, what are you doing here," asked Su. Shinobu, standing next to Su, realized what Motoko was doing. "She must have heard us," she thought. "No, don't do it Motoko," Shinobu pleaded, running towards her.

Turning her face away from them, Motoko replied, her voice solemn, "I'm sorry Shinobu, I know I'm being selfish, but I can't let him go again – I just can't." She then pressed the enter button.

A blinding flash erupted from the microwave, filling the room with an indescribable light.

Motoko could feel her heart beat quicken at the thought of the day's events. She had run into him on her way home from school. Her hand gently touching her chest at the place his hand had been. Replaying the moment in her head, Motoko saw how she was constricting his airway when she lifted him up by the tip of her umbrella. He was flailing his arms out of fear and confusion, not to grope her. Still, she couldn't just let his transgression pass. She had meted out what she had thought was justice, but then why was she feeling so doubtful.

He even saw her in her undergarments. Of course, she shouldn't have been changing in the laundry room in the first place, but her indiscretion did not excuse him of his action – did it? Then she found out that he was the new manager of the Hinata Apartments. "It's preposterous, a male in charge of an all girls dormitory," Motoko exclaimed. But to no avail, Keitaro Urishima was here to stay.

"He is a vile, lecherous, and conniving male," Motoko mumbled. And yet, she felt a warm sensation in her stomach when she thought of him. Her face was flushed, a thin layer of perspiration forming on her forehead. She looked into the mirror and saw the red in her cheeks. "I'm blushing," she thought.

"Could this be…, no, it can't be, not with that weakling," Motoko's mind screamed. Clenching her fist, she yelled out, "That is it? Urishima must leave here right now!" As Motoko rushed to her sword stand to collect her blade, her room was suddenly filled with a blinding light.

"What in heaven's name is going on here," Motoko uttered, shielding her eyes with her hand. A moment later, the light subsided. She rubbed her eyes, trying to coax back her vision. As her eyesight slowly returned, she noticed a note lying on the floor next to her.

"There was nothing there before," Motoko said to herself confused. She picked up the piece of paper, which was folded in half. She discovered her name written on one side of the note. Her curiosity piqued, Motoko unfolded the letter. As she read its contents, her eyes widened. She stuttered, "No, it cannot be," she whispered, "this cannot be true."

Even more confounding to the young sword maiden was that she recognized the penmanship – it was hers. "Is someone trying to deceive me, it must be that male," Motoko thought, but the logic didn't pan out, nor did it explain the light.

Something had happened – something she hesitantly described as magical. None of it made sense to Motoko. "There must be a reasonable explanation," Motoko cried out.

Her mind returned to the note – mulling over its message. She reread the words, feeling the emotions saturating the writing. The message was exact, precise in depicting her emotional state – her secrets in written form. Then it hit her – confirmation. She hurried to her dresser and pulled out her thermometer, placing it under her tongue. She waited for a few minutes and then examined its results.

"Oh my god," Motoko said in a trailing voice. The thermometer indicated that she had a temperature of 102 degrees – the note was correct, she did have a cold.

At first, Motoko was relieved that the cause of her supposed emotional distress was found, until she remembered the note's message. Terror gripped at the young girl's heart. Motoko ran out of her room and headed towards the manager's office where Keitaro would be.

She threw open the doors, surprising the young man. Keitaro was pouring himself a cup of tea, when she barged into his room. He looked up and asked, "Can I help you Motoko?" She just stood in his doorway, staring at him. Keitaro's anxiety began to rise as he sweltered under the intensity of her gaze.

"Just be honest with yourself Motoko," she shouted in her mind, "What is this feeling inside me, is it just the cold, or could it be that you're in…" Motoko was unable to complete her thought. It was all too much for her. She wanted to lash out and attack him, but the message subdued her.

In this moment, she knew the letter was genuine. She gazed into his dark brown eyes and found something warm bubbling to the surface. Motoko was overwhelmed by the maelstrom of emotions released by her epiphany. "Keitaro," she uttered before collapsing onto the floor.

Though taller than him by a few inches, Motoko felt so small in Keitaro's arms. It reminded her of when she was a child being carried in her father's arms. She felt safe and loved in those arms - the same feelings she experienced now in Keitaro's.

Motoko awoke in her own bed. "Was it a dream," she wondered silently. Then she felt something cold and soothing pressing gently on her forehead. Looking up, she saw Keitaro placing a wet hand towel across her brow. Keitaro's eyes met with hers. "Hey, you had me worried there for a second, are you feeling any better," Keitaro asked, the concern in his voice evident.

Motoko nodded her head in response. She then looked around, noticing that she was back in her room. Motoko asked, "Did you carry me to my room?" Keitaro blushed at the question. He replied, with a hint of nervousness in his voice, "Yeah, sorry about that Motoko, but I thought it best to bring you to your room after you fell in mine. I wouldn't want people to have the wrong impression if you were in my room the whole night." He followed his words with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

"So it wasn't a dream," she thought to herself. Keitaro then spoke out again, "Well, it seems like you're getting better, so I'll leave you alone to rest." As he was about to get up, Motoko's reached out and grasped his hand in her own. "No, please stay," Motoko asked with earnest, "I do not wish to be alone right now." Keitaro, confused by Motoko's words, blinked in response.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the two. Motoko, still holding his hand, chided herself, "Stupid girl, what were you thinking? You lashed out at him and his friends, called him a pervert, and threatened him with more physical violence. Why would he show any kindness towards you now? Stupid, stupid, samurai girl!" Her self-deprecation was cut short by Keitaro's voice. "Okay, Motoko, I'll stay as long I'm not a bother to you," he replied. Motoko was stunned by his words, her hand tightening its grip on his hand.

"How could he be so nice to me after all I have done to him," Motoko asked herself. "It's because he's Keitaro," a voice rang out in her head, "trust in him, Motoko."

Her instincts was to deny the implications of her inner voice, but something about the message made her feel that something important was happening – something concerning Keitaro.

Happiness is yours Motoko, you just have to be brave enough to reach out and grab on to it.

It was a passage from the note. Remembering these words, she looked up into Keitaro's eyes and asked, "Could you just talk to me Keitaro, until I fall asleep?" Keitaro was again surprised by Motoko's actions. She was now different from the cold-hearted samurai girl that had sent him skyward just a few hours ago. Lying in her bed, she seemed so gentle and fragile – it was then did Keitaro become fully aware of Motoko's rare beauty. Barely audible to the human ear, he uttered, "You're beautiful."

Motoko's body trembled when she heard his words. Snapping out of his daze, Keitaro realized what he had done. "I'm sorry Motoko, I shouldn't have said that," he whispered with his eyes clenched, trying to contain his fear. "Do you really mean it, do you really think I am…," Motoko asked, stumbling over her words. Keitaro opened his eyes and saw that a single tear had escaped her unflinching eyes.

Motoko presented herself as a stoic warrior – dispassionate of all things feminine. She often ridiculed her fellow classmates and residents for their obsession with looks and romance. She labeled such behaviors as weak and unbecoming of the dignity of a true samurai. In truth, she did so because she felt intimidated by beauty and romance – though she would never admit to it. Her sister Tsuroko, was hailed for both her flawless beauty and her fighting prowess. Motoko both envied and feared her older sister. She wanted to be like her, but felt that she could never match her sister's skills and loveliness – especially since she was so ugly.

Her ears jutted out like an elephant. She was a giant that hovered above most people she knew. Motoko believed herself to be an unattractive, undesirable specimen of the gender. Of course, she was the only one to share this sentiment.

She was considered the pinnacle of Japanese beauty. Her long flowing ebony hair was the envy of her peers. Her alabaster skin and sharp facial features had drawn the notice of many passing men, along with her taut and well-defined body. She held both elegance and poise, which was clearly evident to everyone but herself.

It was Keitaro who made her feel beautiful - desired. She saw it in his eyes, his deep and penetrating gaze. Something in her expression gave Keitaro the strength and boldness that he had never had before. He was always so clumsy and obtuse around women, but the raw emotions pouring out from Motoko solidified his resolve.

His fingers draped over her hand, his eyes never wavering from her gaze, responded, "Yes, Motoko, I think you're beautiful."

To Motoko, it felt like her heart exploded with a myriad of emotions – bathing her soul with joy. It was his eyes that gave her paused. The warmth had left them, leaving behind a tortured expression. His words, low and seemingly forced, slowly escaped his lips. "I'm sorry Motoko, but I have to tell you the truth. I lied about being a Tokyo U. student. I didn't mean to. When Haruka mistakenly mentioned that I was a Tokyo U. student, I didn't get a chance to correct her. That's why I can't stay here in any longer. It wouldn't be right…"

His words were cut off by the slightest of pressure felt around his hand. He looked down and saw that Motoko had tightened her grip on his hand again had taken his hand. "You do not have to go, I know you did not mean to lie," Motoko whispered, barely registering the words leaving her mouth.

She was angry at him for lying, but the regret she felt in his voice subdued her anger. It was the fear of him leaving that propelled her actions – she couldn't lose him, not again. It was the again part that confused her. Motoko didn't know why, but something deep within was telling her that she had lost him once. Though still confused by these feelings, Motoko refused to accept whatever fate had originally intended for them. She would not lose him – this she swore.

Motoko squeezed his hand, assuring him that she held no ill feelings towards him. Keitaro had never know such compassionate and understanding from a female unrelated to him. Naru Narusegawa had helped him perpetuate the lie, but he was sure that her actions were motivated by mostly self-interest. The dorm needed a manager or the residents would have to leave. Motoko, on the other hand, seemed genuinely affectionate towards him.

Normally, his clumsiness would have intervened and destroyed a perfectly romantic moment, but this time, it failed him.

He sat there, feeling the warmth in him grow. Keitaro still held a candle for the promise girl, his childhood friend that he promised to one day find in Tokyo University and live happily ever after with her. But a vague memory paled in comparison to Motoko's graceful beauty. He could feel the warmth of her hand infusing into his body.

The two spoke no other words that night, dwelling on the burgeoning feeling that was growing inside of them.

Keitaro awoke the next morning to a most surprising view. Motoko was clutching his hand close to her face, her eyes fixated on his own visage. Startled at first, Keitaro began stuttering, "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep next to you like this, please don't be angry, it was an honest mistake." Motoko giggled at the excitable young man. She had been awake for nearly an hour. Her first reaction was similar, but she was able to quickly clam herself – remembering the events of the night before. She lay next to him quietly, watching him as he slept. She took the time to contemplate her feelings of the man sleeping before her, the note, and the old attitudes she held on men and relationships.

The truth came to her, clearing her mind of old prejudices and fears. The sensation both amazed and frightened her. She was in love with Keitaro and had almost lost him to her own stubborn pride. Motoko shuddered at the thought of losing him to someone else. "No," she decided, "I will not let him go, no matter the cost."

It was this deep conviction that surprised her. She was known as the man-hater of Hinata Springs. Any unfortunate male soul who crossed her path could attest to her deep seething hatred for the opposite sex. Now, she was a school girl in love, but more than that – she was a school girl in love who desperately wanted to kiss him.

She blushed at the image of their lips pressing together. It was then she noticed his eyes beginning to flicker with consciousness. Quickly pushing her thoughts of intimacy out of her mind, she straightened herself out the best she could without disturbing him.

When he opened his eyes, Motoko could see the panic forming. He began stuttering the words at a rapid pace. She couldn't make out most of it, but knew that he was apologizing. "He is a fool," she said to herself, feeling some joy in the matter. She then placed her free hand on his cheek and said, "Good morning, Keitaro, did you sleep well?"

"Wow mommy! Is that how you fell in love with daddy," young Sakura gleefully asked as she finished reading her mother's newly published novel. "Yes," Motoko replied, "well, except for the time travel part. Auntie Su may be a genius, but even she has limits." Suddenly, a blur whizzed by the mother and daughter, soon followed by another. A little girl with auburn hair was running past them with a toy truck in her hand. "Na-Chan," yelled the little boy following in pursuit, "give me back my toy." Giggling at the frantic little boy, the little girl retorted, "Gotta catch me first Kei-Kun." Motoko was about to speak up, when a hand landing on her shoulder silenced her. She looked up to see Keitaro, her husband of eight years, smiling down on her. "Oh let them be. Can't you recognize young love when you see it," he said. Motoko smiled back and nodded her head in agreement.

Naru had brought over her daughter Narumi for a visit. Though she had left the Hinata Apartments years ago after she graduated from Tokyo University, Naru always came back during the summers to visit her surrogate family.

Keitaro had converted the dormitory into a bed and breakfast establishment when his second child was born. Shinobu, not wanting to leave her boyfriend and one of Keitaro's oldest friends, Shirai Kimiaki, behind, gladly accepted Keitaro's invitation of becoming co-manger and head chef for the famed Hinata Inn.

Kanako, his adopted little sister, moved back in and co-managed the Inn with Shinobu. Keitaro never understood the tension between Kanako and Motoko, but felt it was just a hormonal thing. Motoko, of course, knew that Kanako held an un-natural attraction to her husband, but grew to love her as a sister – a deranged, somewhat unstable sister, but a sister nonetheless.

Koalla Su founded Momol Enterprises, the leading purveyor of high-tech military weapon systems to the Japanese and Momolian militaries, and opened its headquarters in Tokyo. She never married, going against her people's customs, but her older brother had intervened after becoming king. He decreed that his younger sister was absolved from her royal marriage obligations and that she would be permitted to run her business in lieu of her royal duties.

Mitsune eventually grew out of her carefree ways and took on the responsibilities of managing the Hinata Tea House after Haruka left to marry Seta in Eastern Europe. Surprising everyone, she fell in love with a local plumber and was married three months after their first date. Naru would often tease her best friend, reminding Mitsune of her gold-digging ways before she became the humble housewife of a working-class man. But Mitsune never felt embarrassed by this, simply replying, "I'm wealthy in all the ways that counts."

As for Keitaro and Motoko, well they lived the story book life. Soon after that night, they began going on dates. Six months later, Keitaro proposed and a year later, they were married. Keitaro, with Naru's help, eventually did pass the Tokyo University entrance exams. He discovered that his love of drawing and new found respect of math made him particularly suitable for a career in architecture.

There were times, in which he did feel a longing to travel the world like his friend Seta, but he could never leave his wife and children behind – he loved them too much to force that type of life on them.

Motoko was content in being a housewife. She maintained her study of the sword, eventually besting Tsuroko in a duel after Motoko had married. At age 18, she had Sakura. A year later, Keisuke was born. Akane followed two years later. Though unable to inherit the Shinmeiryu, all was not lost for the Aoyama family. The school was designated a historical monument by the government, and Tsuroko became its curator, securing the Aoyama legacy. Motoko taught her children the ways of her family's martial arts, as well as becoming an accomplished author and novelist.

Today was an especially auspicious day for Motoko as the Hinata residents celebrated the publication of her latest novel – A Love across Time. It was hailed as a mastery of romantic fiction, even though the characters were all real people from Motoko's life.

Only Motoko knew the truth. After leaving the party to change into her evening dress, Motoko opened the drawer of her dresser. There she removed an antique lock box, its simple polish reflecting the great care its master put into it. She unlocked the box with the key that hung on her necklace and opened it, revealing a note inside.

She unfolded the note, and read its contents aloud:

Dear Motoko,

There's no time to explain how this note came to be, but it is important that you take its message to heart. By this time, you have met a man who will change your life forever. He will make you stronger than you have ever been. He will guide you back into the light after your fall into darkness. He will forgive you for all your transgressions and personal failings. He does this because he is Keitaro.

Right now, you are confused. You feel for this man, but you cannot accept it. You wish to harm him for causing you to feel so vulnerable and weak. Take heed these words Motoko, the weakness you feel is the weakness of your own spirit and not from his actions. He may appear to be weak, but his heart is stronger than steel. He will not falter when it comes to his friends. His strength will save you Motoko.

You love him Motoko. Even though you are sick from the day's rainfall, you physical ailment cannot hide this immutable fact – you love him. I pray that you come to understand this soon, because you will lose him. He will fall in love with another, because you failed to act. Even now, destiny is running its course, leading him away from you. If you wish for happiness Motoko, then do not give up on him.

Happiness is yours Motoko, you just have to be brave enough to reach out and grab on to it. He can love you Motoko, he can give you all the things you are afraid to take hold of in life, you just have to be strong enough to accept him into your heart.

Love him Motoko and grow strong in his love.

Sincerely,

The Truth

She had read these words a thousand times over, memorizing every line. She knew that somehow, this letter had come to her from a future that might had been if she hadn't acted when she did.

"If I hadn't gone to him that night or if I had sought him out seeking violence instead of love, what would have happened to us," Motoko contemplated, "would we still be together?" Motoko shivered at the thought of losing Keitaro and the life she had with him. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer, thanking whatever divine force that had intervened and saved her from making a terrible mistake.

Keitaro stepped inside their room, watching his wife put away the mysterious box that she had kept secret from him. Though he would never pry into his wife's privacy, he was curious on what that box might contain. His train of thought was interrupted by a warm sensation emanation from his lips. Startled, he finally became aware that his wife was kissing him, her tongue gently seeking entrance into his mouth.

He gladly accepted the invitation, engulfing her tongue with his lips. Their passion flowed into one another, stirring their excitement. Keitaro broke from the kiss, much to Motoko's disappointment, and stuttered, "We'll be late for our reservation, Motoko." Remembering the words from the mysterious note, Motoko slipped off the straps of her gown from her shoulders, allowing gravity to pull the fabric down her body.

Keitaro stood gaping at the delectable scene. Motoko, relishing in her husband's reaction, spoke with a demure tone, "Then we'll be late, Keitaro." Keitaro, finally regaining his composure, smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you Motoko," he whispered before reengaging in their kiss.

Motoko replied in her thoughts as she slipped further into ecstasy's embrace, "I love you Keitaro, now and forever."