Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina, or any other anime, manga, movie, music, game, or book. I also do not own Walter or Hellsing, for which I am eternally sad.
In canon universe, Keitaro Urashima is essentially a bitch; a good guy who doesn't have the balls to stand ups for his self and put a bunch of self-righteous man haters in their place. It is often implied that there are things we don't know about the Urashima Clan, so why it is 'immortality' is the only thing that Keitaro seems to have inherited. This is what happens when a very different Keitaro shows up on that fateful day at the Hinatasou.
/
Keitaro sighed in mild frustration. Haruka wasn't in the tea shop, and he so wanted some tea right now. In fact, the shop was closed for the day for some reason. And the Inn was changed to a girl's dorm of all things. He really couldn't understand why his grandmother invited him here, since he obviously couldn't stay in the dorm. Still, he thought, best to head up and at least talk to her. After all, Hina wouldn't invite him here for nothing.
He approached the dorm with caution, thoughts of being arrested for being a pervert and peeping tom passing through his mind. He opened the door, kicking his shoes casually to land beside several other pairs. Pausing, he noticed how eerily quiet it is. With a frown on his face, Keitaro pulled a pair of solid black leather gloves from his pocket, pulling them on efficiently and quickly. The quiet is never a good thing, he thought.
He shook those thoughts from his mind. It wasn't likely that anything was actually wrong. After all, the dorm is several stories tall, so it's possible nobody is even on the same floor as him. Feeling his craving for a nice cup of tea overtake him, Keitaro made his way to the kitchen, quickly finding the tea bags that his Grandmother had stashed away. He didn't trust whatever the young women living here would pass off as tea, it probably being ooze bought from a local grocery store. It may be Japan, but better safe than sorry.
Swiftly, but with loving care, he set about making what he considered the elixir of the gods, if only for its calming effect. And he made it the proper way, mind you. None of that instant sludge people tried to pass off as tea. As he was pouring his cup of heaven on earth, a feminine squeak of nervous surprise drew his attention. He looked up, noticing a young girl of maybe 14 standing in the door, a bag of groceries in her arms. He recognized her Shinobu Maehara, if Grandmother Hina's description was accurate. He smiled pleasantly.
"Ah, you must be Maehara-san. Grandmother Hina has told me about you in her letters." Shinobu let out another squeak, reminding him of a small mouse faced with a very large snake. The girl might as well be one, if she is as timid as Hina believes her to be. Deathly afraid of her own shadow, was the phrase he believes she used. Still, perhaps she could tell him where Hina is.
"Tell me, do you know where Hina is? She requested that I stop by, but I have not been able to find her or Haruka." Not that he actually bothered looking for Hina, having an idea about where she truly is; namely, not here, or even in Japan. Old woman always did have a habit of running off at the drop of a hat. Still, she wouldn't have called him here without reason.
The girl, Shinobu, just squeaked again. He was beginning to get irritated, but kept such hidden. Getting angry with this girl would cause more problems than it solved. Still, she could at least speak up. It's rude to ignore someone in such a way. He took a step forward, his most pleasant smile on his face- and she turned and fled, dropping the groceries. Casually catching the groceries, Keitaro frowned. That was just plain rude. He sighed, turning and placing the bags on the counter. Might as well put the groceries away, he thought, since the girl wasn't likely to be back anytime soon. Besides, chasing after her would give a terrible impression if someone were to stumble upon the scene.
Keitaro had finished with the groceries and was sitting at the table drinking tea when a group of girls, the tenants he surmised, burst into the room. At the lead was a young woman of about 17, Motoko Aoyoma he guessed, dressed in kendo practice clothes, a very real sword clutched in her left hand? He casually pretended to ignore their rather hostile stares, taking in the rest of the group.
At the front was Motoko, standing a good head taller than him, with long, waist length black hair tied up in some sort of ponytail, aristocratic features arrayed in a harsh scowl. She obviously doesn't appreciate his presence. A shame, he thinks, since she is rather beautiful. Behind her, and to her immediate right, is a young woman he believes to be Naru Narusegawa. Her features, also beautiful, remind him of the classic girl next door image. Her face, too, is scrunched up in a harsh scowl, her distaste clear to see. Her brown hair features two strange protrusions that oddly remind him of antennae.
Behind Naru, looking over her shoulder is a woman of about 20, with short, silvery-blond hair, cut above the shoulders. Her eyes are crinkled in an appearance that oddly reminds him of the whimsical, mischievous Kitsune from old legends. She looks upon the situation with interest and curiosity, but no real malice. This, he believes, is Mitsune Konno, Naru's best friend. Standing behind Motoko, and peeking around the side of her, is a young girl of about 14, with blond hair done up in two short tails on the sides of her head. Her skin is a dark tan, and green eyes gaze upon the situation with childlike innocence and curiosity. He is startled to see a brief glimpse of a very adult intelligence behind those eyes. This would be Kaolla Su, he surmises.
At the very back of the group, quivering in fear, is Shinobu, her dark black, nearly blue hair a mess, almost as if one of the others had ruffled it. She shivers when his gaze rakes over the group, especially so when it briefly pauses on her. He ignores this, only noting it down as information to be reviewed later. He focuses on Motoko again, the one he has estimated to be the largest threat in the group. All of this took less than a second. His right hand flexes the material of his glove stretching.
"You must be the tenants. Granny Hina has told me much about all of you; Aoyoma-san, Narusegawa-san, Konno-san, Su-san, and Maehara-san." His face stretches into a pleasant smile, dark brown eyes crinkling. Motoko bristled.
"Who are you, and why are you befouling this establishment with your presence?" Keitaro frowned, and the girls felt a sudden chill. He smiled again, though the smile was smaller and much slower to form. It was more a bearing of his teeth than a proper smile.
"How rude of me. My name is Keitaro Urashima, grandson of Hinata Urashima, and heir to the Urashima clan." His eyes narrowed into thin slits, muscles tensing up subtly. "Who are you, Aoyoma-san, to question my presence on my family's land?" Motoko faltered, but Naru stepped forward to take her place. She didn't seem to care who Keitaro was.
"Granny Hina never mentioned having a grandson. I don't believe you. All I see is a pervert who has snuck in here to molest us." Keitaro's jaw locked at her accusation. Anger and resentment burned through him at being labeled such a thing; at being accused of such debauchery without proof or provocation.
"I can see that there will be no reasoning with you. Very well, if it's a fight you desire so much, it's a fight you'll get. Come at me, little girl!" That was all the excuse that Naru needed. She kicked off, shoving Motoko aside and coming in at him, right fist drawn back. He nearly rolled his eyes at the easily read move. She swung, and even though his eyes widened at the force behind it, he still diverted it easily, placing his palm on her forearm and spinning her around with the force of her own swing. A swift kick to her exposed back sent her flying right into Motoko, who was running at him, sword held tightly in her left hand, her right hand gripping the handle for a quick draw.
The girls collided roughly, but were quickly on their feet. Keitaro, however, had already leapt past them, shoving his way through the other girls. He took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He swiftly turned a corner, only to come face to face with a…giant, mechanical turtle? Two panels sliding back, and the whine of energy weapons powering up, quickly forced him to get over his surprise. There were several flashes of light, in quick succession of each other, and he was hurrying by. Behind him, the turtle exploded, hurling shrapnel everywhere.
He could hear exclamations of surprise and the sound of pounding feet behind him, but he kept running, trying to remember from his vague memories where the stairs to the roof were. Turning several more corners, he found them, and immediately was up them. Bursting through the roof door, he noticed the roof had been turned into a makeshift dojo. A small grin curled on his lips, sinister in its intent.
When the girls came through the open roof door, he was waiting for them, standing on the other side of the roof. He stood hands at his side, knees slightly bent, ready to move. He smiled at their arrival, and it was an unpleasant smile; like a wolf bearing its fangs.
"I warn you, this is where the real fight begins. Are you ready, children?" Naru bristled at the insinuation, especially since he didn't appear to be much older than her. Motoko, however, was a bit more cautious. Being an actual warrior, and not a casual brawler like Naru, Motoko had noticed the smooth, efficient moves of a trained killer in their brief scuffle before. Something about him was raising her hackles and ringing alarm bells in her mind.
And then the same flash of light as from before appeared, swiftly disappearing. A clean cut appeared in Naru's shirt, right along her stomach. She could only stare at it in shock, before raising her gaze to Keitaro. Hanging in the air, defying gravity, were wires, all gravitating around him like coiled snakes. They flashed blue in the light, and all of them lead back to his gloved hands. His teeth were bared, not even attempting to appear human or pleasant.
"Perhaps I should complete my introduction. My name is Keitaro Urashima, heir to the Urashima clan, and master vampire hunter!" The wires flashed forward at unimaginable speed, and Naru knew in that moment that she was going to die. This man was going to kill her, and it would take no more effort than breathing for him.
"Keitaro!" The wires stopped, already wrapped around her like boa constrictors. Everyone else turned to look at the one who had called. It was Haruka. Her stern, no nonsense gaze was focused on Keitaro, who met it with an even stare. Clearly, unlike the others, he was not intimidated by this woman.
"Aunt Haruka, what a pleasant surprise. Your shop was closed, so I headed on in." He ignored the twitch in the corner of her eye when he called her 'Aunt'. He would apologize later, for now he needed to emphasize the family connection to the girls in front of him.
"So I've noticed. Keitaro, if you would be so kind, would you please let Naru-san go. Now." It wasn't a request, and while a part of him wanted to finish the act just to spite Haruka, he grudgingly let Naru down. The girl needed to be put in her place.
"Haruka-san, who is this man?" Mitsune queried, ignoring her best friend, who had retreated behind her, shivering much like Shinobu. Haruka's gaze never left Keitaro, even as she waved a fax in her hand.
"He's your new land lord. Girls, meet Keitaro Urashima, my 'nephew'." They turned stunned eyes on Keitaro. He merely smiled serenely, giving them a wave. The wires still glinted menacingly in his hand.
Author's notes: This is my first posted story for this fandom, and while I've read a lot of fics for it, I've never actually read the manga myself or watched the anime. There might be a few holes, and things won't be canon in here. Anyway, as some of you have probably noticed, Keitaro is actually modeled a bit after Walter from Hellsing and Hellsing Ultimate, though they won't be the same personality wise because Walter has gone through different experiences, and Keitaro has never had the rather dubious honor of meeting Alucard.