Disclaimer: Love Hina is the property of Ken Akamatsu, not me. If he, or anyone affiliated with, employed by, or really close to him has issues with this not-for-profit fan-fiction story, it will be removed from the web immediately.
Fearless
Part 1 – Northern Star
By Random1377
Shinobu could not understand why Motoko did not like Keitaro. As far as she could see, the Hinata Sou's manager was sweet, kind, and thoughtful – everything a girl should look for in a prospective husband. Sure he was a bit clumsy, and sure, he had not quite managed to test into Toudai just yet, but Shinobu was sure he would manage it yet.
She was rooting for him, and even if it looked like Naru would be the one he ended up with romantically, she would even support him in that, so when Motoko sent the manager flying through the dinning room wall and out into the hot springs, all Shinobu could think was, Why? Why does she hate him so much?
The swordswoman herself was certainly not offering any hints as she sheathed her sword and stalked off towards her room, leaving Shinobu and the rest of residents to clean up.
"Boob shot?" Kitsune asked after a moment of thoughtful silence.
"Buttgrab," Naru corrected, dipping her chopsticks back into her rice without looking up.
Kitsune pulled out a small, well-worn notebook. "How many times is that this week?"
"Five."
"Five butt, or five between butt and boob?"
Naru glanced out at the spluttering manager. "Five butt," she sighed. "I've lost count of the boob grabs. Pervert…"
Noticing Shinobu's disapproving frown, Kitsune held up her notebook. "You sure you don't wanna get down on this action?" she drawled. "Five dollar buy-in, and if you hit the spread, the pot is worth fifty bucks."
"Fifty?" Shinobu echoed. "Ten people are betting on this?"
"No," Kitsune admitted, "Haruka paid twice, and Naru put in-"
"Well, someone should go help the idiot out of the water," Naru interrupted quickly. "Thanks for the food."
Curious in spite of herself, Shinobu asked, "What's the bet, exactly?"
Kitsune grinned. "Umm, how many 'accidents' it takes before Motoko loses it and demands his resignation… again."
"That's horrible!"
"Yeah, but profitable," Kitsune countered. "See, I get ten percent of the take."
"Ah."
Motoko reappeared in the dinning room doorway. "I forgot my dinner," she said coolly, "would you hand it to me, Kitsune?"
Kitsune glanced out into the hot springs, seemingly gauging how far Keitaro was from coming back in and adding to her points spread, but as it seemed he had been knocked out cold, she simply sighed and passed Motoko her food.
Unable to contain herself, Shinobu blurted, "Why do you hate him so much?"
Accepting her dinner from Kitsune, Motoko gave Shinobu a cursory glance. "Because he has no pole."
Shinobu glanced at Kitsune, who shrugged, looking just as baffled as she was. "I… think he does," Kitsune said slowly, "I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure when he first got here Shinobu-"
"Not that," Motoko cut in impatiently, "a pole – a center – something that keeps him grounded." When the other two continued to look blank, Motoko rolled her eyes. "The north star," she said flatly, pointing to the ceiling, "people use it to find their bearings, are you with me so far? It's the polestar – the brightest light in the sky. Keitaro doesn't have a pole to focus on, so he just bumbles through his life, lost like a babe in the woods."
Kitsune considered this for a long, long moment before rendering her verdict on the idea.
"I think you're reaching."
Before Motoko could reply, Shinobu added, "He's got a focus, Motoko. He wants to get into Toudai – that's his… his pole."
Waving a hand, Motoko dismissed the idea. "I question his dedication," she said bluntly. "He spends an awful lot of his time fraternizing and…" she blushed, "groping people."
"He… doesn't grope me," Shinobu said slowly, sounding ever so slightly disappointed by this fact.
Motoko looked smug as she replied, "That just proves he's doing it on purpose. If he groped you, he'd go to jail, but he somehow manages to avoid you while fondling all the rest of us."
Kitsune arched an eyebrow. "He's never groped you, has he?"
"No," Motoko admitted, "but he has 'accidentally' come into the hot spring while I'm naked, and I'm sure it's just a matter of time before-"
"Hey!" Kitsune exclaimed, rising to her feet and pounding her right hand with her fist. "Hey!"
Eagerly, Motoko leaned closer. "You see my point, right?" she said triumphantly.
"No!" Kitsune declared. "I just remembered that I have a spare bottle of sake stuffed in the back of my closet!" As Shinobu covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, Kitsune started towards the door, concluding the conversation with a dry, "You, on the other hand, are up in the night. Enjoy your dinner."
Still trying not to laugh, Shinobu turned to the cooking pot to set aside leftovers for Su and Sarah, both of whom had been absent from dinner for reasons known only to them.
"No vision," Motoko said sourly, "that's what her problem is. Can't see the bigger picture."
Feeling that it was in her best interest to agree, Shinobu mumbled, "Uh huh."
Motoko lingered for a moment, seemingly on the verge of restating her case, but ultimately, she simply took her leave. Once she was gone, Shinobu heaved a sigh of relief, scooping an extra helping of dinner onto Keitaro's plate as Naru finally managed to haul him up out of the water.
After she had eaten, and taken some time to digest, Motoko retired to the rooftop to practice her blade work. Though she tried to focus on her movements, she found her mind going back to the manager of the Hinata Sou several times during her katas.
Get out of my mind, she thought angrily, swinging her blade overhead with more force than was strictly necessary. I don't want to think about you!
Unfortunately, her thoughts did not listen to this directive, and over the next few days, she found her musings returning from time to time to analyses of why she found the manager of the Hinata Sou so annoying.
( 0 0 0 )
Several days after Shinobu's blunt questioning, Motoko found herself trailing along after Keitaro, feeling and looking disgruntled at having to where she was in the first place. Why do I need to go shopping with him? she thought grumpily. Shinobu should have gone – she actually likes this… man.
The younger girl's tastes were beyond Motoko's understanding.
Honestly, she mused, finding her thoughts traveling along an already well-worn path, there's nothing attractive about him. He's not fit, powerful, or terribly compelling. Sure, he's ok looking, and yeah, he's nice enough, but that's about it.
Keitaro noticed her looking at him and gave her a sickly smile. "You… wanna stop on the way back and get some tea or something?"
"No," Motoko replied icily, "I'd rather go straight home."
"Ok."
Motoko glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He really doesn't have much drive, she thought acidly. What kind of lame invitation was that, anyway? 'Do you want to get some tea?' Might as well have asked me if I want to go karaoke with him. I mean, he knows I don't like him… why even bother? And then he doesn't even follow up with a second offer? Pathetic.
Some might have considered these thoughts contradictory, but Motoko felt that they went hand in hand. In her mind it was perfectly fine to be annoyed at the initial invitation and the lack of pursuit. One showed absence of determination, the other lack of understanding.
It would have been better for her opinion of Keitaro if he had said nothing at all.
"So, how is school going?"
But no one ever said that Keitaro learned from his mistakes.
Trying not to grind her teeth, Motoko mumbled, "They're going fine, thank you."
"Oh," Keitaro said, "good."
Honestly, the swordswoman thought, just shut up 'manager-san,' because you're starting to annoy me.
Keitaro, naturally, did not hear her thoughts. "Do you like to read?"
Motoko very nearly snapped, but hesitated, as Keitaro had finally touched on a subject she actually enjoyed. "Yes," he said levelly, refraining from giving him too much encouragement, "I do."
Smiling, Keitaro said, "What kinds of books?"
Unfortunately for him, the genre of novel Motoko favored (romance) was not one she was willing to admit, so she muttered a simple, "All kinds," and closed the topic.
They walked for a few moments in silence, reaching the corner of a rather busy intersection and looking both ways to ensure that the path was clear. "Hey," Keitaro said suddenly, "I think I might have a book you'd like. It's-"
Motoko stopped listening – not out of any rudeness, but because all of her attention was violently refocused on the far side of the street… where a boy of about three years old had stepped off of the curb and into the path of an oncoming truck.
She never hesitated. Throwing herself forward, she shot across the street, leaving Keitaro gaping in her wake as she dove in front of the truck, sliding feet-first into its path and scooping the boy up in her left arm as she rolled clear of the huge vehicle, her mind calculating every angle of the impending accident and concluding that she could get the child out of the way with at least two seconds to spare.
"Are you alright?" she asked, focusing all of her attention on the sobbing youth and ignoring the stinging in her gravel-lacerated legs. "Are you hurt? Can you-"
Pain – unlike any she had even imagined before – exploded in her right hand as the truck came to a screeching halt, leaving half of its tire tread on the pavement in a long, sinuous streak. Motoko pulled, instinctively trying to escape the spike of agony shooting up her arm, but no matter how she tugged, her hand would not reply. Pulling her attention away from the boy for a moment, she glanced down, her eyes widening in horror as she found her hand trapped between the pavement and one of the truck's huge, heavy treaded tires.
The world swam into grey as Motoko thought, He turned… that idiot… turned TOWARDS us…!
Impossibly, the pain grew worse – as if seeing her hand pinned to the street somehow made the damage worse. Stars and pinwheels of light dazzled Motoko's vision as the delayed shouts of the bystanders rose high into the night, filling her ears until all the lights and sounds blurred into a single, unbroken scream, until finally… everything went silent, and Motoko slumped against the truck's fender in a dead faint.
Continued…
Pre-read on this chapter was by Hawker-748, and the original concept for this story was supplied by Hyperspace. I know this isn't quite the idea you gave us, but I hope you don't mind the alteration.
