A/N- To all original of my first Burning Hearts I herby do solemnly apologise. Due to factors beyond my control I could not continue the story until now, and after reading my original work I have decided upon a re-written version. The plot remains basically the same, and all characters promised will appear in this version at one point or another. Original characters have been changed though as they will suit the story better than before.

Now I shall explain several things. This story takes place in an alternate future, in the Love Hina universe. The reason for this shall be given. This storyline was created by me and me alone, and if it resembles anyone else's in any form or fashion I had no intention of doing so. The story is a mixture of both the anime and the manga, simply because I have seen only the first 24 episodes of the anime and have all fourteen volumes of the manga. And one more thing… To whoever hired that assassin…? Get your money back; he was a really lousy shot… (Wipes blood off hands)

Disclaimer- If I will ever own Love Hina may I be struck with massive wads of Ken Akamatsu's cash…. Waiting…waiting…waiting….

Burning Hearts

"I've experienced a lot of firsts in my life. But the most exhilarating one has to be the first time I died."

Silence- sheer and complete silence.

Keitaro Urashima had never experienced a silence as pure as this. It seemed to echo like the everlasting screams of death that resounded through his heart. The silence gave him time to think. Time to see- to observe like the war never had. Was this his respite after four years? Had he finally escaped the horrors that ripped at his soul? More than likely not. He was, after all, one of the most well known figures in the war, and Urashima Keitaro- the Dark Assassin- was not easily forgotten. He wished he was though, that would make life so much simpler; but then again since when had he ever had a simple life. For most of his existence he'd allowed himself to be ruled by a promise, failing to get into the university of his dreams and getting kicked out of his own home in the process; soon after he'd become manager of his grandmother's 'inn'; then he'd met Seta… and then… and then…

It wasn't worth thinking about, what was done was done, and what was past was past; that much he knew. But it still did not stop his mind from wondering to that day, and the weeks, and months that followed. In six eternal years the world had changed. No longer were there battles among superpowers and the many who fought against them. Now there were only two warring factors; the empire and the fools who opposed them. Keitaro supported neither. He simply wanted the suffering to end. This was his reason for disappearing those two years ago. Right now the world remained in ignorance to his existence, and he would just as soon keep it that way.

Keitaro let out the breath, that he hadn't even realised he was holding, and continued his slow and sullen walk onwards. What had brought him here? That was a question whose answer remained unknown… but it didn't truly matter did it? He was here, and that was decidedly acceptable. Ash and burnt soil crunched softly underneath the weight of his worn, black boots. An icy chill blew and he hugged the dark cloak tighter against his body. He could sense it; smell it in the air; the pain and agony of those who had once called this place their home. The village of Hinata. He let out another weary sigh as he stared at the now dank and desolate place. Time had done its worst- and still it was incomparable to his wrath. He'd been the one to instigate the war, and it had all started with this village… or rather the Hinatasou in this village. Either way, the place was dead- and he was responsible…

"Keitaro-sama?"

Keiataro suddenly became aware of the presence of the 'doll' beside him. He had all but forgotten her in his reminisce.

"Yes Moe-chan?" he asked.

His voice had changed in the past years. It had grown harder, colder; another testament to the experiences the war had given him.

"Are you all right?" the blond haired doll asked her voice filled with concern.

"Yeah," he lied, "I'm all right."

The truth was that he was in pain. The old memories haunted him, tortured him in a way that no physical pain could. He had lived a life full of regrets and now the ramifications were upon him. He accepted them as they came, but never once did that mean that he had to like them.

Time seemed to pass, incessantly slow as he made his way around his old home. Maybe it was that he actually missed the way it used to be; though he doubted it highly. More than likely it was the memories that came to him. They came like waves upon the shore; never stopping, never ceasing; coming in when the tide was high, and retreating when it was low. Strange how long high tide seemed to last…

A/N – Short but necessary, the next chapter will be longer and I promise will have a bit more of… everything for that matter.