Chapter 1

This story begins, not as the proverbial story goes on a dark and stormy night, but instead a clear and beautiful day. It was Japan, some years ago. Not too long ago, however, approximately ten years ago. The setting for this tale was an inn, seemingly run off of funds from nowhere. The Hinata Inn. Or just outside of it, in actuality. Just outside being a relative term, by the way.

The story truly begins a few miles from it, and begins with a bang. A literal bang, not a figurative one. A loud noise, a flash, a tall man. These all came out of nowhere. The man was, obviously, the most interesting. Unless you were blind. Then the bang probably startled you more. Looking extremely Western, and the clothing suggested from not coming anywhere near Japan itself. He wore a jacket, made out of the traditional tweed of the British, while the shirt underneath was tattered, torn and frayed in various, and seemingly random places. His pants were in the exact same condition. He had a fedora perched on the top of his head, which was stained and discoloured from years of seeming abuse.

But the body of the man would have attracted more attention if anyone deemed to look at him. His body was scarred around the hands, for that was all one could see. His face, however, was clean, and showed no signs of any type of damage. His hair was impossible to glean information from. It was either grey, or extremely dirty. Taking from the shape of the man, it was probably the former. His actual body shape was nothing of note. He was skinny. That was all one could see. There seemed to be little muscle attached to the body. And yet again we have to look at the most interesting point. His eyes. His eyes were a deep grey, stormy and dark. They were impenetrable, guarding some sense of secrecy. What that was; was impossible to tell. When taken together, and added into this one man, he was obviously not exactly handsome.

He wasn't unattractive, but most people wouldn't take a second glance at him for his looks. His odd style of dress, yes. But not his attractiveness. Never for his attractiveness. Which actually added to his mystery, which was another thing that would turn heads. Yet not that fatal attractiveness. Which obviously meant that he had had a gay lover somewhere along the line. Maybe.

But now, back to the actual action. For the man didn't come out of just nowhere. No, he came out of nowhere as if he was flung by someone extremely strong, who hated his guts. Probably his spurned gay lover upon learning that he wanted to date women at the same time. If such alleged gay lover existed. He didn't quite have a balance, and unfortunately for him, there was a wall opposing him. Screeching his feet hard, he still was unable to avoid the wall, slamming into it, and bloodying his nose. This, however, seemed to be a minor nuisance to him. Instead, he just grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from his pocket. And started writing, even as blood dripped from his nose onto his paper.

The writing was in an alien language, or at least indecipherable to most people who would have looked. Quickly finishing what he wrote, he stuffed the notepaper into his pocket, and started running. Running faster than his body frame suggested he could, even though it wasn't particularly fast. Faster than an average person, yes. But nowhere near enough to justify someone wondering whether or not his life was endangered.

The purpose of his running was unclear. He just ran and ran, going to every place of hospitality he could find. Inns, Hotels, Hospitals. Yet he shook his head at every one, muttering something to himself, to which the casual observer, it would sound like, 'No, this isn't a good place. I need to find a good place. It's going to be gone soon, and I need to find a place so I can regain it. Regain what will be lost.' On this path, he stumbled upon the Hinata Inn.

Or in more accurate terms, he stumbled in front of the Hinata Inn, and couldn't pick himself back up. In overall, it seemed that he had run over ten miles, from place to place, at the same speed. But now, he could move no further. His head fell to the ground and he fell silent.

This might have been the end of our story if a young Keitaro, somewhere in the middle of studying for one of his Tokyo U exams, didn't happen to notice the man. And being the strong and independent male that he is, failing to carry him up the steps before Aoyama Motoko, after yelling at him for a while for some perceived slight, helped him finish carrying him up the stairs.

After a few minutes, it was the talk of the entire dorm. Kaolla Suu poked his face slightly, before declaring inedible. Konno 'Kitsune' Mitsune, being slightly tipsy at the time, declared he could lie on her bed. Urashima Haruka quickly shot down that idea. Maehara Shinobu was slightly scared of the man, even if he was inert. Motoko wanted to throw him on the streets for being a dirty, old lecherous man. Even though he seemed about 20 years of age. Except for those endless eyes. The only not staring at the body at the moment was Narusegawa Naru, who was out at the moment doing something, which Kitsune believed meant that she was on a hot steamy date.

In the end, the only consensus they had was to stick his body in Keitaro's room. The man with no name was placed under some blankets and monitored, mainly by Keitaro, who had to share a room with him. And still the man slept. Right under a seemingly damaged part of the ceiling. That was definitively a recipe for disaster.

Okugi- it's what we desire.