Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina or anything associated with it.
'...' will be thoughts.
"..." will be spoken word.
Bold will be English.
Italics will be Japanese.
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A Startling Beginning
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A lone man walked down the crowded street, unsure of his surroundings. True, he had saved his money to actually visit Japan, but, as is oft to happen to this guy, he had neglected to think ahead, too excited about the trip. Now, here he was. Alone, confused, and lost. He knew a little Japanese, picking up only what he heard in anime, but it wasn't enough to get any information, let alone hold a conversation. Dragging his large suitcase behind him, he thought solemnly to himself.
'Okay. Uh, well...usually the taller buildings are hotels, so I should probably just look for the big ones with some kind of logo. I'm sure there's a Best Western or Ramada Inn somewhere around here. If not, there's probably a way to determine what a hotel is. I mean, all the hotels I've ever seen had big ol' signs in front of them.'
One of his bad habits, getting lost in his thoughts, would usually turn out to be detrimental to his health. This proved tried and true throughout his life, and today would be no different. Walking forward (Well, stumbling, actually. That suitcase was pretty heavy.) at a brisk pace, he managed to bump into another person. He immediately began to apologize, right up until the person he ran into turned around. The man was taller than he was, with jet black hair, dark sunglasses, and a large scar going down his left eye. Tilting his head slightly, he muttered something in Japanese in a low tone towards our protagonist.
"What are you doing, bro?"
Now, I'm sure you've heard the term "fight-or-flight response". If not, here's a small rundown. In times of great stress or duress, the mind will recognize that the current situation is dangerous and prep the body accordingly. The body produces adrenaline, dilates the pupils, constricts blood vessels, and generally just readies itself for what comes ahead, wither you are going to fight or run away.
Unfortunately, our...well, hero is a bit much. Let's go with...focal point. The focal point of our story lacks one crucial thing that makes this response actually work. You see, most people who encounter this response actually choose if they want to fight or flee. The body is just preparing for either eventuality, and that choice will either be made consciously or unconsciously. That is to say, by mind or by instinct. Our dear focal point, however, doesn't ever choose. Ever. His unfortunate upbringing has led to several encounters that left him with only a single choice should anything ever seem to mean him harm.
He was gone before the man could even blink.
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Keitaro Urashima was tired. Very tired. Between his constant studying and his round-the-clock cleaning of the Hinata Inn, his body and mind were truly aching. Also, though you couldn't tell it from looking, he was beat up on an almost daily basis. So, after being asked (See: ordered) to go shopping for groceries, as well as being conned into buying some alcohol, this usually good-natured manager was in a bit of a foul mood. Not that he ever could get worse than that, but the fact still remains.
After acquiring of all the necessary provisions ('Why does she drink so much anyway?'), he stepped out of the store, only to be met with some running fool. After several items found their way to the ground, one very irate Keitaro stood up and voiced his irritation.
"Aw, come on! I just bought those! I don't have the money to replace anything so quickly!"
Unknown to Keitaro, he actually looked pretty scary. Dark circles lingered below his eyes, giving his unnatural scowl a very chilling look. Combined with his habit of squinting when he wasn't wearing his glasses, he successfully scared the bajeezus out of the poor sucker, who only let out a squeak and ran as far away as possible.
Watching the man take off, Keitaro sighed. 'Ah jeez. I didn't mean to scare him. Way to go, Keitaro.' After the mental berating, he stood and gathered the foodstuffs, as well as his glasses. 'Thank goodness nothing broke.' It was then he noticed a rather large item out of place from his belongings. A suitcase. 'Must belong to that guy. I better hurry and get this to him.Also gives me a chance to apologize.' He grabbed the handle and started off briskly toward the Hinata Inn. Coincidentally, the man had run in that direction.
After some time, he managed to catch up. The man was hunched over, breathing heavily, with his hands on his knees. Not really giving much thought to how the man might react to his presence, he shouted out to him.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry about before. Here, you dropped your suitcase!"
The man, after a double-take, took off up the stairs.
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After successfully escaping his second potentially deadly encounter today, our fearful lead character, currently situated near some stairs, leaned over and was deeply taking in as much oxygen as was allowed for his lung size. After calming down some, a bit of thought began taking place.
'Jeez, I didn't realize people around here would be so angry! I gotta hurry and find a place to stay.'
Not taking notice that he was missing one crucial piece to his tourist puzzle, he began thinking of where to go from here, still breathing heavily. After a bit of fruitless thinking, a hastily made plan was about to be put into action, until some yelling behind him peaked his curiosity. Upon first glance, it looked like some guy who may have needed help. Of course, given his past experiences today, he wasn't about to offer any. Though the guy did look familiar...
A second glance told him all he needed to know. It was that second guy. No mistaking it. Though, he was smiling now. 'Why is he smiling? Why is he smiling?! Cripes, I gotta go!' Immediately taking off, he stumbled up the stairs a bit before finding a quick pace. After a number of steps, he came across a large building.
I'm sure I mentioned before that he didn't really think things through. Again, one of his bad habits rose to the surface as he faced this intimidating building and thought one word as he ran towards it's doors.
'Sanctuary!'
Entering the conveniently unlocked building, he slammed the door shut behind him and after stumbling forward a bit, immediately fell to one knee, breathing hard again.
"I have got to work out more!"
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The loud noise from the lobby got everyone's attention. Keitaro didn't usually slam the door shut, and he always announced his return.
Closest to the lobby was Shinobu, who was preparing some side dishes while awaiting the groceries from Keitaro. Worried something happened to him that warranted such an entrance, she peeked out from her culinary home. The site she met with was not one she would have expected. A sweaty man was kneeling on the floor, breathing heavily. Fearing that he was a thief or worse, she hurriedly retreated back to the kitchen, grabbing a nearby pan for defense, whilst praying he didn't come near her.
Su was still in her room, which wasn't truly unusual. What was unusual was that she was second to see the intruder. A lingering Tama would explain such a thing, as she flew out of the room from the now distracted genius. As her machines beeped in alarm, she scanned her CCTVs and found the disturbance in record speed. Noting his physique and current physical condition, she planned for several security measures against him as she spun in her chair.
Kitsune slowly walked down the hall towards the staircase. Always eager to take advantage of anything fun or interesting, she glanced past the corner of the hall and was met with quite a surprise. A man she had never seen before was kneeling in the lobby downstairs. No, scratch that. Now he was all fours, breathing really hard. Tapping her finger to her chin, she grinned inwardly. This kind of situation could be easily taken advantage of. Well, it would be, if Motoko wasn't already by him with her sword drawn.
Motoko, trained swordswoman that she was, had hurried from the dressing room towards the source of the commotion. Seeing an unfamiliar male, she instinctively drew her sword and advanced on the pervert, keeping the tip pointed at his torso. While living with Urashima had quelled her attitude somewhat, old habits tend to die hard. She was about to voice her discontent at his presence when someone beat her to it.
"Who are you and what are you doing in our house, pervert?"
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Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Keitaro looked around for the fear-driven man. Not seeing him, he opted to search around after getting everything inside. Lugging both that heavy suitcase and the groceries up those stairs was really draining. Opening the door, he was about to shout out his return when he eyed the scene before him. The very same man he was searching for was surrounded by two of the most dangerous tenets around. This would probably not end well.
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Finally having a chance to catch his breath, our nameless runner dropped to all fours. His legs hurt like nothing he had felt prior. He almost contemplated just falling asleep right there, had it not been for that guy who was surely on his way to get him now. He needed to get somewhere safe and hide out for a bit. As he stood, he heard a woman's voice.
"Who are you and what are you doing in our house, pervert?"
Looking up slowly, he saw a face that should have been reserved for devils only. Already standing a bit awkwardly, he used the tips of his toes to jump to his left, opposite the devil-woman, hopefully to go into a faster sprint.
His theory, while sound, ended severely different than he thought as a sickening noise echoed throughout the inn.
Keitaro was already at the phone, dialing for an ambulance. Naru could only stare, mouth agape at the man, sliding slowly down the blade. Shinobu, having gathered enough courage to look out from the kitchen again, dropped her pan at the horrible sight and fell to her knees. Kitsune, eyes wide open, brought her hands to her mouth, as if to stifle any sound she could make. Su, going over her tapes, was confused as to why the man would do such a thing to himself.
Motoko, wielder of the blade, was frozen in place. She may have practiced swordsmanship, but her style was of that to slay demons and apparitions, not men. Her eyes followed the unfamiliar red coating slipping down her sword, inching closer to her hands. She immediately released the handle before the crimson flow could reach her. Everyone watched as he dropped to his knees, clutching the sharp protrusion. He looked up at the raven-haired woman, tears in his eyes and blood staining his lips. Before collapsing, he uttered four words that no one understood, though they felt they knew what he had said...
"I don't wanna die."
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And that brings a close to this chapter. This story should be loads better than my first attempt.
I still haven't thought of a name for the guy yet. I just can't choose one. Nothing really strikes me as right.
Anyhow, if you do feel like reviewing and yelling at me, please keep it polite and coherent. No one likes a raving idiot.