Disclaimer and Early Notes: I own the conceptual idea for the armored ki suit, as I spent quite a good deal of time developing it in my own head. I own nothing else, so don't bug me 'bout it.
And as an aside: smeg in hell, this is going to be a long one. I usually end up adding a thousand or two words during revision, and this thing's in the 9,000 word range to begin with. The thing's a solid nineteen pages on MS Word right now; the biggest revised chapters I've done so far only got up to 18!
This is going to take a while; onwards, at any rate…
Chapter 10: Tank Beats Everything! Oh, Man, I Could Do This All Day!
The one advantage of a long, backwoods road is that it typically has very little traffic. When driving a van at ninety miles an hour, that tended to be a very good thing, indeed, as there was significantly less of a chance of hitting somebody or running them off the road on the way.
Unfortunately, it also made you a lot easier to spot, a fact that Seta realized long before setting out.
The thing was, when you had a van as readily known, recognizable, and sought for as his was to the very people he was trying to avoid, going slowly would only give them more time to recognize and catch up to their intended quarry.
So it was that when they finally did spot him, two hours into the ride, he sped up as much as he dared.
So, too, did his pursuers. All twelve of them.
"GET DOWN!" yelled Seta as a hail of bullets rained down on the back of the van, cracking the back windows but bouncing off the van's paneling.
The windows were only somewhat bulletproof, and wouldn't last long under sustained fire; the van itself, however, was practically indestructible. It was a marvel of engineering: built like a tank with reinforced armor, everything from the bumpers to the seats themselves were almost impossible to destroy without some serious armor-piercing artillery. It could win an argument with a brick wall at high speed if it had to.
It had done so quite often in the past, at any rate.
Their pursuers were catching up to them. Three pickup trucks led their pack; behind them were two roaring custom jobs, both edging to get in the lead and attack. Three motorcycles were coming up the side, and four large cars kept pace behind them.
Each vehicle had at least one gunman; most had more.
One of the pickups came up their left, machine guns tearing the side windows apart. Seta's custom Jericho answered in like kind, his .45AE rounds getting familiar with the truck's driver and sending the pursuer veering out of control. Most of the others got out of the way; one of the rear cars, however, plowed straight into it.
Two down, ten to go.
In the third row back seat, Keitaro was doing his level best to shelter Kitsune with his armored form from the sprays of lead that kept raking over their heads. There were few lulls in the incoming fire, but both he and Kitsune were answering as best they could. Her shots were less accurate, but with both Glocks blazing at once she was scoring quite a few hits. Keitaro's Desert Eagle, meanwhile, blasted high-caliber rounds like a handheld cannon; with enough armor to shrug off the stray fire, he could use the gun to devastating effect.
In two minutes time, they had managed to take down another truck, two of the motorcycles, and one of the souped-up cars between them, while Seta nailed a second car coming up the other side. With one truck, one bike, one racer, and two cars remaining, their pursuers ranks had thinned by over half their original force.
They were now quickly approaching the ocean. The road was now running parallel to a seaside cliff, curving to follow the steep slopes. A little further, Seta knew, and they'd be able to make their escape.
Unfortunately, the remaining truck's driver picked that moment to land a successful shot.
The round grazed across Mitsune's unprotected shoulder before she could get out of the way, causing her to yelp in pain.
"MITSUNE!!" Keitaro yelled, pulling her down to safety. Adrenaline and fear wracked his system as his attention immediately focused on her. She clutched her bleeding shoulder, her guns dropped and forgotten as she lay breathing in quick short breaths through clenched teeth. "I'm…I'm okay, it's just…just a graze…" she managed to say, the pain throbbing in time with her heartbeat.
The next ten seconds proved to be the decisive moment of the whole ordeal. Keitaro's rage at seeing them injure his girlfriend ignited in him a fury he had never known. Fueled by the excess energy of his emotion, his entire suit took on the eerie half-glow of amassed ki. His own perception of time slowed to a crawl, and his senses became more acute than ever before. He felt, rather than saw, the five remaining pursuers, distinguished which of them had fired the shot, and prepared himself to do something insane.
In real time, this took two seconds.
Half a second later, he had leapt backward over the seats, the Remington in one hand with its strap flying in the air, the Eagle in the other. The force of his pushoff from the seats in front of him was enough to jolt the whole van forward. Just behind the van's rear doors, the remaining motorcyclist was edging closer to jump on the back; just as he was doing so, however, he was suddenly and startlingly blasted off backward as his own bulletproof vest was all but shredded by buckshot.
As the cyclist flew over the cliff into the waters below, dazed and bleeding in several places, his fellows quickly registered the sudden appearance of what seemed to be a royally pissed off armored demon, who was now launching himself in a backward somersault off the handlebars of the discarded motorcycle. The bike jerked back on one wheel and flew backward, landing upside-down in one of the remaining cars.
Startled and suddenly desperate, those that remained opened fire on Keitaro. Standing now on the roof of the van, Keitaro had no trouble dodging many of the bullets as they came.
Seven seconds had gone by; the Remington was already back over his shoulder.
Three .50 caliber Action Express rounds left his Desert Eagle in as many seconds, each fired with uncanny precision into three vital points on each remaining vehicle.
The first round tore off the tire of the last regular car, sending it into a swerving nosedive of a roll.
The second, aimed higher, entered the souped-up car's half-exposed fuel injection system, igniting a spray of gasoline that quickly engulfed the engine and sent the car to a screeching halt.
The final shot entered the window of the truck at a sharp angle, its aim so precise that it neatly hit its intended target and embedded itself into the center back half of the driver's seat, taking the most valuable part of the driver's personal anatomy with it.
Needless to say, the truck spun out of control, its driver singing soprano.
Seta watched in the remaining half of his rear-view mirror in shock as his remaining pursuers were sent flying, spinning out of control or screeching to a fiery halt all at once, with the last one to go fully out of commission wobbling and making a squeal that didn't sound like it was just the tires. He was even more surprised when the still-glowing armored Keitaro swung back inside the remains of the rear window with one arm, holstering his side-arm in the process. It took him about two seconds to register all that had happened, and two more to remember they were only a moment away from making their final jump.
"Strap in!" Seta yelled to his passengers, flicking a set of switches on his van's dashboard. Immediately, a second, thicker set of windows slid up and sealed in place of the first, knocking loose the remaining shards of the originals behind them. At top speed, the van sailed off a curve in the road, straight through a modest guardrail, and flew toward the ocean below. A final switch activated the van's submersible mode a second before it hit the water with a jarring jolt.
The van sank quickly into the water, its propulsion switching to match the new environment. The moment he was sure everything was still in working order, Seta unbuckled himself and turned his attention to the back seat. Somehow, Keitaro had made it back to his seat as swiftly as he had left it, buckling in and bracing both himself and Mitsune before impact. Now, he was cradling her in his arms, his attention focused on her wound.
The slice made by the bullet's passing was quite deep, and she was beginning to lose consciousness from blood loss and shock. In the front seat, Seta was scrambling to get a first aid kit in his glove compartment, so that they might have something to bind her wound with. As the van continued its descent into the dark gloom of the water, it became increasingly difficult for him to see. The interior light in the van had been blown off by a stray bullet, and there were no flashlights; silently cursing to himself, Keitaro realized neither he nor Seta would be able to see what they were doing.
In an instant, he was struck with a strong sense of déjà vu. He'd been here! He'd seen this before, just like this. He couldn't see her clearly now, but he still saw that she lay in his arms, bleeding. Her blood. Mitsune's blood on his hands, and not by his hands.
His hands. His gauntleted, unfamiliar looking, ki-infused hands. Hands capable of doing more than he could, on his own.
He knew what he could do, what he had to do. Using his suit, he had a chance. He could heal her!
He closed his eyes, one final regret entering his mind. He wished he had more time, so that he could do this more gently, but he didn't.
'I'm sorry, Mitsune,' he thought with regret, preparing himself to attempt what he once had considered impossible,'but if this works, it's going to hurt like all holy hell.'
He grabbed the wound, hand glowing.
**********
The last thing Mitsune could remember was Keitaro suddenly disappearing from his seat, a sound like a cannon at the back of the van, and three more slightly different blasts going off what sounded like right over her head. She felt delirious as her world faded to black with an odd squealing noise that reminded her of an opera singer stubbing her toe mid-note; perhaps she was becoming delusional?
The first two things she felt as she came back to consciousness were an intense, incredibly white-hot pain in her wounded shoulder, worse than what it had previously been, and a feeling of equally intense comfort and relief immediately afterwards. The pain dropped away quickly, but what had been so bad that it had made her scream out loud like that? She couldn't describe it; for a moment, it had been like a red-hot poker buried into the wound, but afterward it only felt a little warm with a mild ache. Instead of pain, she felt like she was being held in a warm, soft, comforting cocoon, though in reality she could tell that whatever was holding her was hard as rock. She opened her eyes; it was too dark to see anything very clearly, but from what she could see it looked like she was still in the back seat of Seta's van, being held and gently rocked in the arms of her boyfriend.
"Wha…what happened?" she asked blearily.
"We're safe, now," she heard Keitaro whisper to her gently, holding her now even more closely in his relief. "You were hurt, but you'll be okay, now. I healed you."
Shocked, she reached with her good hand to her wound, only to find it had already sealed. Fresh, smooth skin that was warm to the touch, if a little sore, now filled the space where the deep gash had been.
'So that's what it's like to be healed like that,' she thought, resisting the urge to shudder. To think that he'd done something like that to himself so many times…and now, here she was, reeling from the effects of experiencing it once.
Suddenly, she realized she had no idea where here even was.
She sat up quickly, trying to see out the windows. She instantly regretted it; not only did she suddenly feel weak and dizzy, but she also saw nothing but deep blue water and passing fish. Either she was hallucinating, or…
"Where are we?" she asked, holding her spinning head as she swayed in her seat. She felt Keitaro's hands reach out to steady her, and decided falling back toward him was better than staying upright at the moment. 'Damn, I must've lost a lot of blood,' she thought to herself.
"We are in the Pacific Ocean, heading north at the moment," Seta answered from the front seat. "I think I mentioned the submarine converter in the front dash once before, didn't I? Anyway, suffice to say that I had this thing custom built for this sort of craziness."
"You mean, you've done this before?" Keitaro asked, genuinely surprised.
"Lots of times!" Seta said proudly as he finished setting his amphibious machine's autopilot to take them the rest of the way. They were relatively safe, for now; with the sound defeat of their pursuers and the apparent plunge to their own deaths off a cliff, no one would think to give them further chase just yet. It would take a while for them to find all the wrecks and figure out what happened; if any of their pursuers had lived, it would take them even longer to get back on their trail, as they would first have to search the nearby waters to find the remains, or rather the lack thereof. By then, Seta and his passengers would be long gone, securely within what relative safety they had available.
Then, of course, the real fight would begin; for now, though, he needed some rest, and so did his two passengers
Taking off his bulletproof vest and slumping back in his seat, he said, "We should be safe for the time being. Getting from where we were to the water was the hardest bit; these people have a lot of resources, but they have their limits. It'll take them a while for the survivors to regroup and figure out where we've gone, at any rate, long enough for us to get to relative safety. Meantime, we're going to be crawling along down here for a while."
Keitaro looked at his hands in the darkness, which were still wet with Mitsune's blood. So, too, was her shirt, and a fair amount of the cushion next to her. Getting comfortable was the least of his current worries.
"I don't suppose you brought a towel and something to eat, did you?" he asked Seta. "Mitsune lost a fair amount of blood, and even though her arm's healed she's going to need something to eat and drink to help her recover."
"Check behind the extra boxes of ammo. There should be a small cooler with juice and cups in it. As for the towel, I think there's an extra in my bag; I always keep one there just in case; you wouldn't believe how often those things come in handy when you least expect it. Your bags should be wherever you put them back there."
"Hey, Kei," Mitsune said to him as he unbuckled his seatbelt, "Grab an extra shirt out of my bag while you're back there if you can find one in my stuff, would you? I think think this one is pretty well shot…er, no pun intended."
"Alright. You need anything, Seta?"
"Nope, I'm fine, thank you. You'll have to excuse me, though: I need a nap. Driving like that without rolling the van over ten times is exhausting." With that, he fell silent, and presently began snoring softly.
Keitaro sighed and shook his head, then carefully picked his way over the back seat after making sure Kitsune was comfortably seated again. As he strained to see, a thought occurred to him. Blinking, he experimentally shifted the focus of his ki into his sight; the suit responded immediately to the shift, and when he opened his eyes again he found he could see what he was doing more clearly than before in the now almost nonexistent light. The sight wasn't what he would call a normal sort of vision, either; it was more detailed in certain ways, like he was feeling the details of his surroundings as much as he was seeing them. It reminded him of something he'd once heard about, like a bat's echolocation, only he got the feeling it was more like seeing a reflection of his own ki off surfaces rather than sound. Very strange.
He found and retrieved her bag and his own easily this way, along with the juice, some food, and the towel Seta had mentioned. When he returned, he mentally forced himself to stop using his newfound sight boost; to use it as she changed her top, while tempting, was simply too dishonorable a thing for Keitaro to allow himself to do. As she removed her vest and changed her shirt to something not covered in her own blood, he moved behind the back seat and changed into the regular clothing he'd worn earlier that day, leaving the suit in a pile in the back. He had to admit to himself that, though it had made him capable of things he'd never have thought possible, it was a relief to be free of its weight and heat for a while. He'd probably have to put it back on sooner or later, but for now it seemed that he'd have a few hours at least to relax without wearing it like a second skin.
Mitsune, meanwhile, found herself half-wishing there was more light to see by. She knew that Keitaro was changing out of his armor behind her, though she could barely see the outline of his head; were she not feeling quite so damn weak at the moment, she might have crawled back and offered to "help" him with the task! As it was, though, she was having enough trouble getting the sticky mess that was her shirt off and changing into something clean before he finished.
Finally, Keitaro returned over the edge of the seat once again, clad in his pants and shirt once more. He left off the shoes, as he realized he didn't really need them at the moment. Mitsune had covered the wet spot on the right hand side of the seats with the towel and sat in the middle, so he sat next to her on the left. As they sipped on the juice (which tasted sweet but oddly dry and sharp, like grape mixed with cranberry, though they couldn't read the label) and munched on some of the sweeter foods he had found (again, it was difficult to tell one from another, though he was pretty sure at least one was a package of chocolate chip cookies), they cuddled closely and comfortably in the back seat together, glad to be alive and safely out of the line of fire. They spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the man sleeping two rows in front of them.
"So, how'd you get rid of all those other cars and such, anyway? All I can remember is you disappearing on me and strange, loud noises."
Keitaro chuckled, softly. "I don't think you'd believe it all if I told you."
"How so?" she asked, curious.
"If I were to tell you I blasted one off a cliff, hit the second with the first's bike, blew off the tire of the third, fried the fourth's engine, and did something I'm not particularly proud of having done to the one that shot you in the arm like that in about ten seconds, would you believe me?"
She blinked, considering. "Hmmm…that is pretty difficult to see, but…yeah, I guess I would believe that, Kei," she said with a smile. "But I'm curious, though: what did you do to that bastard that shot me, anyway?"
Keitaro hesitated, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed by what he had done. All he knew was that he'd have done it again, and that he still wasn't proud of it even then. "I…uh…well…sorta made sure he wouldn't be passing along his genes anytime soon."
Mitsune looked at him confused, then gasped when she realized what he was implying. "Oh, wow, you didn't…"
"Yeah…I did. Dead on, too, from where I was standing. Never heard a guy squeal at that high a pitch before in my life, and never want to hear it again."
She started snickering uncontrollably. "Wow…that's…wow. Do you…wow, damn. You think he survived it?"
"Probably," he admitted, cringing. "I was trying not to kill any of them if I could help it, just incapacitate them. I don't know if any of them survived the crashes at the speeds we were going, but there's a chance they did anyway. Aside from the guy on the motorcycle, he was the only one I aimed to hit and the only one I meant to injure specifically. The others I just incapacitated the cars themselves where I could."
"And the motorcycle guy?"
"Blasted him off the edge of a cliff with my shotgun. He was wearing a vest, so I doubt it killed him outright."
"Why give them a chance to live like that? What if they come back?" she asked.
He sighed inaudibly. "Well…at this point, I doubt they'll be in any shape to do so for a while even if they manage to live. Plus…if I can help it, I'd rather not kill anyone on purpose. Don't believe in it. Injury you can live through if you're lucky, and when you recover you get a chance to do something differently, a chance to choose differently, bu you don't get a chance to change anything if you're dead."
She thought about this for a moment. Somehow, he'd managed to face a hailstorm of gunfire and take each one of their pursuers out of commission without purposefully killing any of them. She wasn't sure about the guy on the motorcycle (by the sound of it, he'd be lucky to have survived), but when she thought about it the guys Keitaro had hit would all have a chance to live. She couldn't be sure, but she knew the few she'd actually hit had been aimed for the men themselves; now that she considered it, every shot Keitaro had taken before the last group had been aimed at the cars themselves. Even Seta had been aiming for the drivers! Keitaro really wasn't kidding when he said he didn't like to kill anyone, and she was amazed he'd managed to find a way to do it all with what sounded like handheld artillery!
"Well, I'm glad you did, Kei. In your place, I'd have probably shot that last one in the head, but you managed to do that without even killing him in the process!"
Keitaro snorted softly to himself. "Well, he'll definitely regret it for the rest of his life, I'm sure."
Feeling tired, Mitsune relaxed herself for a moment against his chest, resting her ear so she could listen to his heart beat and his slow breathing. "You know, Kei-kun, I think that's what I really like about you," she remarked tiredly, feeling her eyelids begin to droop. It was still early, but it had already been a long day and the blood she'd lost had made her woozy enough as it was.
"What's that?" he asked.
"The more I learn about what you can do, the more I think that you're suddenly going to be different somehow, yet…you aren't. It's strange, you know? There's stuff you can do that would scare me, if you were anyone else, but not you."
Confused, he asked, "What do you mean?"
She thought about it a moment, trying to find a way to express it. "It's kind of like…when you first came around, we all thought you were just some sort of bumbling pervert or something, but you turned out to be a really gentle-hearted and noble guy, you know? Clumsy, sure, but your heart's always in the right place. Then I find out you can do a lot more than you let on, like fighting and stuff; most people I've met like that are all stuck up about it, like Motoko, or don't control it well, like Naru, but you ended up being just the way you always were: a nice, honorable guy. And the more I find out, the more I realize you still are that way, in spite of it all. I really like that about you, Kei."
He smiled. "I'm…glad you think so, Kitsu-chan," he said softly.
He heard her giggle. "I'll tell you something else, too," she added.
"What?"
"Right now, I…I think you make a nice pillow, Kei-kun."
He smiled again, holding her gently and stroking her hair as she began to fall asleep against his chest. As he, too, began to succumb to the gentle sounds of water flowing past them, his girlfriend's warm body curled up against him, and the aftereffects of their stressful experience that day, he thought that she made a nice blanket, herself.
**********
Hours later, Seta awoke to the sound of the autopilot pinging. Opening his eyes, he checked the only source of light in the vehicle (the lightly glowing instrument panel) and found out they were about ten minutes away from arrival.
Yawning deeply, he turned to check on his passengers in the back seat. Though it was still too dark to see well at all, he could still see their peacefully sleeping silhouettes in the back. He grinned sideways; they sort of reminded him of himself and someone he was looking forward to seeing again quite soon.
Still, there would be time for them to be together again later, and time for Keitaro and Kitsune as well. The autopilot shifted their course to match their final approach, sending a gentle vibration through the van. His passengers blinked and awoke, taking a moment to get their bearings.
"Good morning…or evening, or night…I'm not really sure which at the moment," Seta commented, lighting up his watch. The dial read 11:28 pm. "Ah! Good night…but don't go back to sleep just yet!"
He heard them groan. "Why not?" Mitsune complained?
"We're going to be there in a few minutes."
Yawning, Keitaro asked, "I forget, where exactly were we going, again?"
Seta just chuckled. "Don't worry, you didn't forget, Urashima-san; I haven't told you yet. We are going to the main base of operations, so-to-speak. If all has gone better than it has for us, everyone should be there by now."
"Who?" Mitsune asked, suddenly curious.
"Oh, you'll see," Seta said. "Can't go spoiling the surprise just yet, can I? Besides, I think it's a bit late for the full grand tour of the place tonight. Unless I'm mistaken, that'll wait 'till morning."
Keitaro and Kitsune looked at each other, questioningly, then back at Seta.
"Anyway," he continued, "There's a few things we'll need to do before we get in there. Keitaro, I'd suggest you get changed back into that armor for now. You won't be needing it just yet, but it'll be best that you have it on while you're moving about from now on. Our welcoming party will want to see you in it for sure. Don't worry, you won't have to wear it for too long; we'll only be up long enough for you to get acquainted, then I'll make sure you two get your own room for the time being."
He turned back toward the front, imagining how many shades of red they would turn when they realized…
"W-wait a sec…did you just say…room? As in singular?" asked Keitaro, somewhere between nervousness and excitement. After the previous night, both he and Kitsune weren't about to say no, but…
"Yep. I'm afraid the accommodations won't be quite as nice or as spacious as they were at my place, so you two are just going to have to share a room. It's a rule there, after all: those that can share a room together in a crisis like this will do so, no exceptions. There simply isn't enough room for everyone otherwise."
'I'll bet its deep scarlet and maroon,' he thought to himself with a chuckle as he began gathering his gear together again.
In truth, he wasn't very far off the mark.
Ten minutes later, Keitaro was scraping off the remaining dried blood off of his armored gauntlets (a task that turned out to be considerably easier than he thought it would be, due to the odd nature of its materials) when they felt the whole vehicle slow down. In front of them, a few dim guidelights appeared leading up to a sheer rocky sea wall in front of them. A large set of doors opened in front of them, appearing like hidden jaws in the rock. Seta guided the vehicle the rest of the way into the opening slowly; once inside, they heard the muffled rumble of the mechanical maw slowly sliding shut with a distant-sounding crunch behind them.
Immediately, bright lights flickered on one after another outside, all but blinding them as their dark-acclimated eyes struggled to adjust. When their eyesight had adapted again, they found themselves in a small, water-filled chamber that was somewhat taller and wider than the van itself. Somewhere along the floor and ceiling, vents opened both above and beneath them, and air was pumped in as the water was drained out. Seta flicked a few switches on the dash as the water level fell around them, and the van converted back to its normal form once again, tires settling on metal plating as the water poured and dripped off the sides. In front of them, a second set of thick doors opened, leading to a long, gently sloping tunnel.
"What is this place?" Keitaro asked as Seta began driving through.
"You mean what is it, or what is it's name?" Seta questioned him.
"Both." Mitsune clarified for him, before he could respond.
"Figured. In that case, it's the largest and perhaps the strongest privately-owned fortress in Japan. It has about a dozen entrances, but I only know of the exact whereabouts of two or three of them from the outside, but each entrance connects to a long tunnel like the one we are in right now. This is the only one that comes from in from the sea, I think: the rest lead in from the surface. As for its name…well, even I'm not allowed to tell you. Only the leader is, and only in person."
"Why so secret?" Keitaro asked.
"Because," Seta replied, "the very fact that this place exists is a secret, and a well-kept one at that. It won't be much longer, unfortunately, but up to this point it has been. Don't worry, you'll learn all you need to know about it before lunchtime tomorrow."
A minute later, they emerged from the tunnel into what looked like a massive car park. Keitaro blinked, looking at the many vehicles filling the cavernous space around them. "Umm…just how many people are we going to have to meet, anyway?"
Seta laughed. "Oh, just a few tonight. I'd imagine most are asleep by now, so it's going to be whomever's still up running shop. If I had to take a stab at who that would be, I'd guess it would be the security forces."
They parked in the only space they could find open, probably the only one left in the whole complex. Getting out and stretching, Seta lit a cigarette and began unloading his bags and equipment. He told his passengers to do the same when he finished, and went to retrieve a cart to carry it all.
Mitsune, still looking slightly pale but otherwise steady on her feet once more, decided to look around a bit at the cars around them. A few of the cars looked fairly well-worn, with signs of battles both old and new decorating their surfaces. "Boy, some of these cars look more scarred up than you do, Keitaro," she commented.
"Yeah, all except this one," he replied, pointing at the van. She glanced back and did a double take: in spite of the complete change of windows (which were tinted slightly and looked thicker than the old ones, she noted), there were no bullet holes to be seen anywhere, very few dings and scratches, not even much missing paint!
"Wow, this thing really is almost indestructible, isn't it?" she whistled.
"Yep!" said Seta, as he returned with the cart in tow. "They actually forced me to use this one after my first year doing field work. Said it would be better that I use something that wouldn't get destroyed all the time, like the last three I had. Or four." The man looked slightly embarrassed by the admission.
Mitsune and Keitaro both gave each other a look.
"Anyway," Seta said, changing the subject and indicating the cart he'd brought, "we'd better load this thing up. It'll be a long way to walk with all this stuff as it is."
Indeed, it was a long walk. Keitaro got the job of pushing the cart most of the way; Seta had insisted they bring everything, and between the bags, the boxes of lead-filled ammo and explosives, the hundred-pound axe (Keitaro had decided to bring it at the last minute, feeling an odd sort of affinity for the ungainly thing he couldn't yet explain), and several other packages Seta had brought (including a few important artifacts he hadn't wanted to risk leaving behind), it weighed almost half a ton. Since Keitaro was wearing his armor, it was little more difficult for him to push and maneuver than pushing a heavy shopping cart would have been for him normally.
After walking the length of a city block, they spotted what looked like a large, iron-doored gateway. Seta explained it was a cargo elevator, good for carrying heavy loads and large groups of people. To their surprise, before they were within fifty feet of it the oversized doors slid open, revealing a very full interior. Almost immediately, several dozen heavily armed men and women in oddly-designed riot gear quickly filed out, fanning out in all directions. Moving quickly and efficiently, they split into squads of six apiece, each group moving down separate lines of cars. Each one they could see had some form of modern-looking armored helm with mirrored visors covering their faces; they were equipped with a combination of modern and more traditional weapons of every kind imaginable, from pistols and assault rifles to rocket launchers and from knives and nightsticks to swords and polearms. Each was unique, seemingly hand-picked to fit an individual's personal style and preference, yet all worked together seamlessly as well as any trained unit would.
Of the last groups to emerge, two quickly approached the three of them in straight lines. The lead guard of each converged and halted behind them, facing the opposite direction the three had been heading a moment earlier, guns drawn and ready; the next four on each side similarly faced outward in twos, guns ready and scanning outward in four more directions. The last two of both lines converged in front of their cart, facing them and completing the last side of a human hexagon. Their uniforms were slightly more formal, and the tallest of the two wore what appeared to be a hakama in addition to the other gear.
Instinctively, Keitaro's stance shifted, hands ready to draw weapons if needed; Seta, however, put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head calmly. Mitsune backed over to where her boyfriend stood, eyes wide and wary. Aside from the two in front of them, the two squads were forming a defensive circle around them; still, after being shot once already she wasn't about to let her guard down so easily!
The two in front were apparently the heads of both squads. The shorter of the two on the left carried a long, folded iron fan at the hip and a sniper rifle on the back; the taller had only a long, prominently worn katana. These two faced them and looked them over quickly, as though confirming something. The taller looked at the other, who nodded once quickly. Evidently satisfied, the sword bearer pressed a button on what was evidently a helmet radio, speaking quickly in a muffled feminine voice. "All teams, all teams, Foehammer has landed. Seal all rabbit holes and check for gremlins. That is all."
Releasing the transmitter button, she looked at Seta. "Were there any followers, Noriyasu-san?"
"Twelve on the road, all incapacitated before we left it. None whatsoever after that," Seta answered immediately. Keitaro glanced at him in surprise, then back to the woman in uniform.
"Any injured?" she asked.
"One graze wound," he nodded in Mitsune's direction, "but it's been taken care of already by him." He indicated Keitaro. "Oh, and I could use fresh windows and mirrors, if there are any spares."
"Good, then all has gone as well as can be hoped for," the woman said, and Keitaro saw both her and her colleague next to her visibly sigh in relief. The woman removed her helmet first, letting a large amount of long, mostly straight black hair fall out. Keitaro blinked in surprise: she looked very much like an older version of Motoko!
"Greetings, Urashima-san. I am Tsuruko Aoyama, sister of one of your tenants. We have been expecting you."
Keitaro's brain registered her name, and remembered what he knew of it from Motoko. Tsuruko, he'd heard, was a master of the Shinmei-ryu school of martial arts, a source of both great respect and well-founded fear for Motoko. Though he hadn't yet met the woman, her skill with the sword was (according to her younger sister) unmatched among the art's practitioners. By the prominent way she wore her blade on her hip, he knew better than to cross such a woman lightly. "It is an honor to meet the sister spoken so highly of by Motoko at last, Aoyama-san."
She bowed. "The honor is mine to meet you, Urashima-san. We have been waiting for your arrival since my sister and your remaining tenants arrived last evening."
"W-what? They're here?" he asked, genuinely surprised.
"Of course they're here, where else would they be? I brought them myself," the other said testily as she removed her helmet.
"Haruka!?" both Keitaro and Mitsune exclaimed, recognizing her instantly.
"Good to see you alive and healthy again, kids," Haruka said with a smirk. "They're all here, safe and sound. We left shortly after you did."
"Oh, that's…that's great," said Keitaro sounding a little less than enthusiastic. Mitsune's shoulders slumped slightly as well. Noting this, Haruka added quietly, "Don't worry, I've already grilled them about their treatment of you, and made sure their quarters are nowhere near yours for the time being. They should all be asleep by now, so I wouldn't worry about them just yet."
Their faces brightened. "Thanks, Haruka," Keitaro said gratefully.
"Don't thank me yet! They still don't know you're a couple, not officially," Haruka remarked. "I should give you a word of warning, though: they've seen some sort of surveillance tape of that bus accident a few days ago. I've explained what's going on, and they've seen enough here to know it's for real. How they handle it from here is anyone's guess, though. Just be forewarned."
Keitaro nodded. "I figured as much."
"Still, I think you'll be better able to handle that here than at the Hinata," Haruka remarked, as the group began to move toward the elevator together. Several of the squad members took over pushing the cart for Keitaro, so they were free to talk as they went.
"How so?" he asked.
Haruka just smirked. "I think you know the answer to that well enough by now, Kei. Quite frankly, the deck's stacked in your favor like no one else I know of right now."
They reached the elevator momentarily, and Tsuruko keyed in a long number to open it once more. Keitaro and Mitsune joined the cart and Tsuruko's squad on the lift, while Seta and Haruka's squad remained. "We'll wait for the next ride," Haruka stated, much to Keitaro's general confusion. After all, there was still quite a bit of room left on the lift, and it didn't make sense to him that she'd just break away like that so soon after they'd arrived.
Tsuruko, however, just nodded in acknowledgement. "Alright. Make sure the other squads all report back in after finishing the lockdown, then engage the lift's lockdown for the night. Everyone should be here now; we don't want any visitors just yet. See you two in the morning." With that, the doors shut fully, and the lift began its slow descent.
Haruka turned to the remaining squad. "Alright, you heard the woman: help the other squads finish the area sweep, and report back with them in ten minutes. We shouldn't have any problems yet, but don't leave it to chance."
"Yes, Ma'am!" the five of them said, and marched swiftly away. When they were out of sight, she immediately smacked Seta in the back of the head. "Dammit all, what took you so long!? You had me worried sick!" she chastised him, half a moment before embracing him.
"I'm alright, we're all alright. Just a bit of over-the-top road rage we had to deal with. I ended up having to hop in the water sooner than I wanted to, so it took a bit longer to get here than I'd hoped for," he replied, trying to sound reassuring.
She pulled away, looking at him. "Are you really okay? Please don't be just saying that."
He grinned brightly. "Not a scratch on me! Although I think I need to reupholster some of my seats; they got pretty chewed up around the edges, and there might be a bit of a blood stain on one of the back seats."
She looked at him questioningly. "How badly was she hit, anyway?" she asked. "I didn't see any obvious bandages."
"Badly enough. It would have been worse, but Keitaro figured out that he could use the suit to heal her. Far as I know, it worked perfectly, too. I'll tell you something, though: that boy can fight when he's put to it! He took the last five on his own in ten seconds flat, even made the one that shot her into a eunuch."
Haruka raised an eyebrow. "Any of them still alive?"
"If they survived the crashes, maybe. We were going pretty fast. I think the one he castrated with a .50 caliber bullet was the only one he aimed for specifically to injure; the rest, it seems, he aimed to take out their cars instead. I think the only ones that died for sure were the ones I nailed; the rest are anyone's guess."
Haruka let out her breath. "Well, looks like we were right about him. You gave the kid enough firepower to blow a legion to kingdom come with, suit or no suit, and he still tries not to kill anyone with it."
"I'm just surprised at how well he handled those things! The recoil alone turned me off to that handgun he's using a long time ago, and he barely even flinched with it. You should've seen what he did! I only wish I'd been able to watch it all without crashing."
Haruka chuckled, looking at her watch. They still had six minutes alone together. Seta noted the move, and raised an eyebrow. "Aw, don't tell me I'm boring you already!" he teasingly moped.
She looked at him, somewhere between amused and irked. "Of all the things you've ever done to me, Seta, boring me isn't one of them, I assure you."
He grinned. "So, you did miss me, huh?"
She frowned. "I'll wait on answering that one fully 'till later, baka," she told him testily. Seeing his hurt expression, she sighed and shook her head in exasperation. She then kissed him deeply, taking him a bit by surprise.
"Just consider that to be part of the answer for now," she told him.
**********
"So…what is this place, exactly?" Keitaro asked as the lift continued it's descent.
Tsuruko looked at him questioningly. "Don't you already know?"
"Not really," Mitsune said, looking at her. "We kinda stumbled into this whole thing by accident; we're not even sure why we're here, or where here is, past the fact that it has something to do with Kei's new rock-hard threads." She indicated his armor.
Tsuruko suppressed a bemused smile. "That will change by tomorrow. Suffice it to say this: we're in an underground fortress built to sustain a large group of people self-sufficiently for an extended period of time. It was originally intended to be a sort of fallout shelter the size of a small town, but its usefulness didn't stop at that. The people we'll be dealing with in the coming days have been active for quite a long time, and so have we."
Keitaro glanced over, a dark look on his face. "In that case, I hope you guys know more about what I'm supposed to do with this thing than I do! I've only had it since this afternoon, and so far I've been whisked away to parts unknown for the second time in three days, shot at repeatedly by people I don't even know, and had to save the life of someone I really, really don't want to get killed on my account for the third time in less than a week! I don't know who made this thing, or why they made it or where it was found, but if it's going to keep bringing those I care about into harm's way all the time like that, then I need to find out what to do with it, and fast. The sooner I can get everything settled and safe again, the sooner I can get rid of it in good conscience, 'cause I really don't want to keep it."
Tsuruko looked at him in wonder. The sheer power of his personal ki caused the suit to almost hum with energy; the sudden spike in his emotional state as he spoke had made it all but throb with fresh power. At any time, she realized, he could easily unleash a force of devastation unmatched by anything she'd ever seen or experienced without breaking so much as a sweat in the process; yet even now, even here, she sensed that this was precisely the last thing he wanted to do. Indeed, he was the ideal person to be using it: the rare combination of power and self-control so many had strived and failed to attain was practically intrinsic to who he was from the start.
"Fear not, Urashima-san," she said, "you shall not have to bear your burden for very long. It has taken much time, but the moment we have prepared for and against is now almost upon us. It will not last long, for better or worse."
The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open to the now dimly illuminated main chamber. Like his tenants before him, Keitaro gazed in wonder at the vast armored complex as they stepped off the lift. In spite of it's size, there were far fewer people about than he might have expected, at least until he remembered how late at night it now was. Glancing at his watch, he discovered it was nearly midnight.
Tsuruko, meanwhile, ordered two of her squad members to escort Keitaro and Kitsune with their gear to their room for the night. Their room, as it turned out, was little more than a small nook in the wall, big enough to hold a slightly bigger-than-average bed, a clock on a small stand, and a very small closet to dump their belongings into. The bedding itself was comfortable enough, but it was about the furthest extent of the room's accommodations.
Mitsune, at any rate, didn't seem to mind too much. Though they were both a little tired, they'd already slept for several hours. As such, they took their time getting ready for their rest. Mitsune left for a moment to check on where the remainder of their belongings were going to be kept and to make sure someone got Seta's bags to him before he turned in for the night. Keitaro took the opportunity to change in privacy. He carefully removed and secured his armor once again, then took stock of his remaining clean clothing. He still had a couple good outfits to work with, but he quickly discovered he had little to wear for the night. He suddenly wished he'd thought to bring more pajamas with him; all he really had left was a backup thin, light white t-shirt with a wide collar that was about a size too small for him and a pair of boxer shorts. Donning these, he looked himself over gloomily. Sure, he could probably get away with wearing this if he was on his own, but he doubted he could get away with walking around outside in it. Mitsune, of old, might've set him up for disaster if she had found him wearing as much at the Hinata, though he doubted she'd do that now. Granted, they weren't at the Hinata at the moment, but with the rest of his tenants somewhere nearby and him sharing a room with Kitsune, he felt almost as if he should just paint a few large concentric red circles on his shirt and be done with it.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. He had to look at the positive, or he'd be a nervous wreck in no time. They didn't necessarily know they were here yet, so they'd have at least a little privacy together for the moment. If he was lucky, they'd be able to smooth things over with the others tomorrow.
Of course, he'd have to be really lucky for that to happen.
His eyes darted toward the door, which was shut but not locked. It seemed to have a thick, metal construction, as did many of the walls. While Kitsune was away, he'd have to leave it like that until she returned; maybe she'd let him lock it for the night when she'd changed herself. Unfortunately, when he thought of her changing in the same room, he realized he'd have to leave wearing nothing but glorified underwear in a building with not only his entire roster of tenants somewhere about the place, but also several hundred well-trained, well-armed men and women behind every door in sight! He suddenly considered putting his clothes back on, and fast.
But it was not to be. Mitsune arrived a moment later, leaving the door wide open behind her; startled, he sprawled quickly for a bedsheet in embarrassment. Before he could wonder about what to say or do to prevent what seemed to him to be a perfect storm of bad luck from overtaking him once again, Mitsune smiled at him nonchalantly and began to talk. "Well, that's that settled. I ran into Haruka again on the way; she said she knew where Seta was staying for the night and took his bags for me. Everything else is in a locker area a little ways down the hall that way," she said, indicating with her hand without looking as she went over to her own bag, "and they gave me a key for it. It's number…uh…42, I think." She checked a tagged key in her pocket. "Yeah, that's it. It's on the key, too, if we forget, so that's good."
At this point, she noted the embarrassed look on Keitaro's face, and noted the neat pile of armor in the corner of the room. "Oh! Sorry, I hope I didn't catch you in mid-change, did I?" she apologized, realizing what the source of his deepening blush might be and shutting the door.
"Umm, no, I've…already changed, but…I'm not exactly wearing all that much to safely go parading down the halls." He pulled enough of the edge of his covering aside for her to see his attire. "I…uh…seem to have forgotten to bring more pajamas, and the ones I have with me are already used, so…" He shrugged nervously. "this is what I had left."
She looked at him in puzzlement. "What's wrong with that?" she asked. Grinning impishly, she added, "I don't mind it at all! In fact, I think I actually kind of prefer you dressed down." A hint of a foxlike gleam entered her eyes, similar to one she'd worn in the past when she was up to teasing him mercilessly but entirely different in its intent. Keitaro's expression changed from embarrassment to surprise, confusion, barely concealed desire, then guilt and growing fear, all within the span of about two seconds to a deepening crimpson across his face.
She burst into giggling. "Don't worry, I won't chase you around out in the halls…unless you want me to, that is."
"No! That's fine, I'll stay here, thank you," he said hurriedly with terror in his voice.
She smiled at him warmly. "Good. Then, I'll be right back." Pulling something from her pack that he couldn't see, she departed for a nearby restroom. Keitaro sighed in relief when he realized what she was doing; he hadn't thought of that.
In a shower stall in the bathroom, Mitsune began to slowly change into her chosen nighttime attire. It was one of her favorites, one she rarely got to wear. She was quite alone in both hallway and bathroom, though she'd brought a thin robe of the same material and pattern just to be on the safe side. What she wore underneath, she intended for Keitaro's eyes alone.
As she changed, she took a moment to examine her shoulder in the better light. It was stillslightly sore, like a combination of a bruise and a sore muscle, yet it had indeed healed faster and better than any wound she'd ever had. What had been a gash two inches long and almost half an inch wide and deep was now a small band of freshly grown flesh and light scar tissue, a bit pinker than the surrounding area but not as permanent-looking or ugly as she feared it might have been. She rubbed it softly, thinking again of what it had been like. The pain of it had scared her initially, though compared with the spike during the fast heal it hadn't been so bad. She shuddered to herself, thinking of how many times Keitaro had done the exact same thing to his own wounds. It was like she had taken a small taste of a poison he'd been consuming by the bottleful almost every day for over a year, a poison she knew he'd desperately wanted to prevent any of them from ever having to take on his behalf. She could well understand how he felt now, and though she knew she hadn't been the one to figuratively force him to drink it, she still felt incredible guilt for having so frequently filled his cup.
Tying shut the kimono-like robe, she felt resolved to help him like never before. In the next few days, she knew, anything could happen; by the looks of things, there would be deadly serious fighting with him at the very center of it. Anything could happen, including either or both of them getting hurt or killed, not to mention everyone else around them. It scared her deeply to think they might not live much longer, fervent though her hope was that they all would survive. She knew he would willingly die to protect them, to protect her.
But she did not want him to die. She wanted him alive and well, so she could stick by his side. Somehow, she thought, she had to convince him not to throw his life away too willingly.
She had to convince him to stay alive, for her if not for himself. That was the only way she could think of to help him now. He could do the fighting and the saving, she didn't need to help him with that. What she did need to help him with was taking care of the one person he so often forgot to take into account, the only one he readily chose to ignore the needs and wants, pains, and saftety of: himself.
Keitaro, meanwhile, was deep in thought. Tomorrow, he knew, he'd be facing a great number of trials and difficulties. Saving the world, or defeating evil or whatever the hell it was he was going to be facing, was only one problem on his plate, and it was going to be hard enough just figuring out how to do that. He decided he'd worry about it more when he came to it; all he knew now was that he'd be fighting like mad, and he would have to rely on skill and discernment to deal with that. More pressing in his mind was how he was going to fully break the news to his other tenants that he was now close enough to Kitsune to be dating her, even sleeping in the same room with her, at least without them freaking out and killing him (or her, or both of them) in the process. Truthfully speaking, he probably deserved as much for not telling them sooner, for skipping out on them days earlier like he had, and for any number of other reasons he could think of. But what could he do? Defend himself? To his mind, it wasn't an option. The only way he could do such a thing without directly risking doing any harm to them was through aikido, the only martial art that would match anything they threw in his direction and allow him to defuse their attacks harmlessly. Yet good though he was at the art, he did not trust himself to stick to it and it alone; there were, after all, a number of martial art forms he had become skilled in, and he had a tendency to call upon all of them in battle as he needed. Even within the discipline itself, there was plenty of room for error: a simple throw, done slightly differently, could dislocate a shoulder or break bones if he wasn't careful. Much of the art, after all, was based off an older form called aikijutsu, the deadly and brutally effective form of unarmed combat a samurai would use if he was weaponless.
Deep down, Keitaro knew he would be able to pull it off if he had to, and likely pull it off easily. Yet even though the risk was minute, he still did not want it to come to that if he could help it. Many times in the past, he had accepted personal injury as payment for his unwillingness to take that risk. He didn't like enduring the pain, granted, but what if he hurt one of them? They were his friends, his responsibility. If he hurt one of them…he'd never be able to forgive himself.
Now, it seemed, he wasn't going to have a choice but to risk it anyway. If one of them attacked him and he did nothing about it, someone else might do something about it for him. They were, after all, now sitting in a private base full of clearly well-trained, fully-armed personnel that might not be so kind to someone attacking him. What if one of them got shot for attacking him? Then he wouldn't be just risking their harm, but indirectly risking their lives as well. He could prevent it by defending himself, but even without a choice he was loathe to do such a thing.
He heard the doorknob turning, and looked up in time to see a barefoot Mitsune slip into the room, wearing a silky robe with an intricate pattern of deep red and violet across its surface. The robe ended at about her knee, and showed nothing of whatever else lay underneath. The sight was enough to drive all other worries and considerations from his mind for a moment, replacing it with sheer dumfounded amazement. She smiled at him, quietly shutting the door behind her and latching its lock with a wink. "Don't ogle until you've seen the best part, Kei-kun" she chided almost seductively, her hand loosening the strap holding the robe shut right before his widening eyes.
In what felt like slow motion, Keitaro watched the folds of the robe fall away, dropping off her shoulders, down her arms, and settling around her feet. A small, generously curved nightgown, made of a much thinner version of the same silken material as the robe, revealed itself before his eyes. Thin straps of material held the garment in place at the shoulders, though only just; as she turned to show it off, he saw that the back was cut in a deep, curved V almost down to the base of her spine, while the front plunged to her navel, held in place and shape by a thin triangular band of semitransparent material that ended just below her bust.
"…wow," was all he managed to say as all further conscious thought in his brain went on hold and stayed there.
She beamed at him. "Thought you'd like it," she said, enjoying his reaction. "It's the last one I brought, too, come to think of it." She looked slyly in his direction. "Let's just hope they didn't think to put in any washing machines."
"Huh?" he inquired, the comment taking him completely off-guard.
"Think about it for a minute," she prompted with a grin.
With some difficulty, he forced his mind to work again. If there were no washing machines, they'd need more clothes to wear; by the looks of things, that meant either re-wearing dirty laundry, borrowing more, or else…
Suddenly, he got what she was saying, and his nose began to drip crimpson.
She was now grinning from ear to ear, giggling uncontrollable. "My thoughts exactly," she said, handing him a paper towel she'd plucked from a dispenser in the bathroom for his nose. A thought occurred to her suddenly as she watched him try to contain the bleed. "Hey, Keitaro…I've just had an idea."
"Whatsh thaat?" he asked.
"If you can heal your own injuries, do you think it would work on a nosebleed?"
He paused, considering. Remarkably, he'd never thought of it before. He felt like slapping his own forehead; of course he could heal a nosebleed! After all, what was a couple tiny ruptured blood vessels compared to fixing bone-deep cuts? He decided to give it a try.
The pain of healing his nasal cavities, it turned out, wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be.
It was about ten times worse.
"Gyeearrahhaghaaaooow!!" he cried, as the many weak and broken vessels in his sinuses repaired and strengthened themselves substantially to the tune of what felt like a hundred electrified ice picks being driven through his nostril all at once.
The bleeding stopped completely. "Holy shit, that hurt," he said, shaking his head in surprise.
Mitsune, shocked by the unexpected severity of the procedure, meekly said, "Sorry! Didn't mean for it to hurt you so bad!"
"Nah, don't worry about it, I'm okay," he assured her, rubbing his nose. "Just didn't expect it to be all that bad. Wasn't ready for it, that's all."
In spite of the pain, however, he could tell it had made a huge difference already. His nose no longer felt ready to burst anew; even without seeing it, he could feel renewed strength in the delicate tissues, like someone had reinforced the cracks of a dam to be stronger than ever before.
Now, even the thought of possibly having a legitimate excuse to sleep naked with his girlfriend in a day's time didn't cause anything to spontaneously burst.
She kissed him almost immediately, briefly but with feeling. As she pulled away, she commented, "I'll tell you one thing, Kei."
"What's that?" he asked, his brain struggling for focus once more.
"I was beginning to think I'd never get to wear this for anyone."
Confused, he asked, "Why's that?"
"Well…I guess I never really believed there was anyone worth wearing it for. I mean, granted, I suppose any guy would love seeing me in it, but I never got close enough to any for it to be worth it." She looked at her hands, which lay in her lap. "Stange, isn't it? I, Kitsune the openly flirtatious, have never had that close of a relationship with anyone before now. I've had boyfriends, sure, but I was usually in it for myself, and always assumed they were, too. And they often were. It never lasted very long, if at all. Usually, I'd stay long enough to get free drinks, or con something else out of a guy, and that would be the end of it. I always figured, 'Hey, no real harm done, nobody cares, what the hell?' and never looked back.
"And then you came along. I tried the same thing I always had, and instead of staying mad you forgave me outright. I teased you for fun, even got you in trouble, and yet you didn't go anywhere or condemn me for it. At first, I thought you were just being nice; it took me a while before I began to realize you weren't really like them, or like the way I thought I should be. Most guys I know would've left after a week at the most of that kind of treatment, or have just dropped over dead in a month. But you didn't. I won't lie to you: I actually started to like you months ago because of that, because you were always kind, always generous. But even then, I believed I didn't stand a chance at getting involved with you for very long. I'd screw it up, I thought, as I always had, and end up alone again anyway."
Keitaro sighed and chuckled. "I don't do that. Not if I can help it."
"I know," she said, "and that's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because now I don't wanna lose you, but I don't know if I can keep you from losing yourself. I thought it would be okay, you know? You were tired, almost dropping over dead, but I knew that was something that could be fixed, that we could do something about it and make it so you could survive and not live under so much attack like that. We could work things out with the others, so we could eventually spend our time together without so much fear. But now, you're facing something I can't do anything about, something bigger than both of us. If not for you, it might've been the end of me several times over, and for all I know it's still going to be the end of you, me, and everyone else!" Her eyes stared at the pile of organometallic relics in the corner, a look of dread in her eyes. "What if I lose you? What if you lose me? I…I don't know what I'd do, and it scares me. And yet…I'm going to help you face it. No matter what ends up happening…I want to be at your side, and face it with you. Does that make sense?"
Keitaro nodded, drawing her into a hug. "It does. Mitsune…thank you."
For a moment, they sat there in each others arms, just holding one another. Mitsune felt close to him now as she had never felt before; it was as though a deep part of her soul, a part she had always known of herself but never considered, had been laid bare before him, revealed in its own way by virtue of his very nature. It was a part of her that she herself had only begun to understand, a part she'd almost lost to the machinations and assumptions of her nature; it was something she now desperately and fiercely wanted to protect, and nurture, and grow, and now feared she'd somehow lose to forces beyond her control.
And he, Keitaro Urashima, a man she had once put through all kinds of hell, had seen this part of her and accepted it with open arms the same way he had accepted the rest of her.
For the first time, she felt that she could accept herself the same way.
"Mitsune…what do you think scares me the most?" he asked her presently.
Slightly taken aback by the question, she gave it some thought. "I'm…not really sure. I know you've got plenty to be afraid of."
"Such as…?"
"Well...for example, getting hurt or killed, or having someone you care about getting hurt or killed like I am…" she listed off, then added with a bit of a smirk, "…or maybe getting caught doing…certain activities…with someone, say, in this room, and being grilled and reamed by someone who isn't in this room that would take exception to you doing it?" He blushed at her teasing, but shook his head.
"No; believe it or not, none of that really scares me very much at all. It does, but not as much as you'd think. Somehow, I get the feeling we will all survive this, even if I'm afraid that we won't; call it a gut instinct, but I'm more than willing to believe in it. I do not fear death, either, not as much as most people do. I'm afraid of my friends dying, but even then there's always something I can do to prevent that, as you well know by now. And although I certainly don't like the consequences of my own ineptitude around the Hinata, it doesn't really scare me very much at all anymore."
Mitsune scratched her head. "Alright, if the biggies don't bug you, then what does?" she asked, now quite curious.
He closed his eyes. "The one thing I fear most…more than dying, more than loss, more than most anything…is myself."
She looked at him with a thoroughly confused expression. "Huh!?"
He frowned slightly again, eyes focused somewhere on the ground in front of his feet. "Ever since I was little, I knew that there were things I could do that most people could not. I discovered how to heal myself by accident when I was five. When I was eight, I was attacked by a bully twice my size; he hit me hard enough to break my nose, but when I got angry and struck him back…I ended up nearly killing him. He never admitted that it had happened, said a car had hit him and sped away. He forgave me for it, privately, later on, but…I never really forgave myself.
"Since then, I've known that what I do and how I do it directly affects the people around me, and that I had to be extremely careful so as not to hurt someone like that. I could heal myself; others couldn't. Now, when I have to fight, it's only when I have no other choice; even then, the thought that I might have found a different way, that I might have done something differently so I didn't have to hurt someone, haunts me. It's one thing when it's someone I don't have a choice with: those men chasing us today, or those muggers that tried to get you. At the very least, I can forgive myself if I don't purposefully kill them outright. It's a whole different ball of wax when it's someone I care about, someone I'd rather not harm in the slightest. I want to believe I can keep myself from hurting them."
"Is that…why you'd get yourself hurt, rather than defend yourself?"
He nodded. "Normally, I can do that. Granted, I've learned now that I can't just throw my own life away and get away with it, either. You've taught me that much already; even if I can bear a lot of the burden of pain, I have to mind my own limits or risk hurting those I care about by dying on them."
"You've got that right, and don't you forget it!" she agreed.
He sighed, and chuckled. "Still…I don't think I have that choice now."
"How so?"
"Sometime tomorrow, we're going to have to tell everyone about us. What scares me is that they might go after you, as well as me. What then? And what if they go after me, and the people around here take exception to it and attack them? My only choice would be to try and stop them without hurting them, and while I can do that, I'm still risking hurting them in the process. It'll be even harder to do, too, because I'll be wearing that armor, and I'm not used to it yet. It's hard enough normally, let alone wearing something that makes me several times stronger! And what if I'm just not thinking of a way that doesn't get anyone hurt, and I don't think of it until afterword? I…I'm scared of what I'll do, and yet…in the end, I know I'll do what I can to protect whomever I can, and you most of all."
She moved over closer to him to wrap her arm around his shoulders. "Kei-kun, listen to me…whatever you do tomorrow…I trust you. Whatever choice you end up making, or whatever you end up being forced into doing, I won't condemn you for it, right or wrong. If it doesn't work out all that great, I know it isn't your fault. I think it says a lot that you'd try so hard to find a way, even if you don't end up finding one. There might not be one, and if you can't think of one by now then I really doubt anyone else will, right? I know that you'll choose better than anyone, and I'll stand by whatever you choose."
He looked up at her in surprise. "You mean that?"
"Definitely!" she said with a warm smile. "Hell, Kei, for all they've put you through, they probably deserve whatever they get a thousand times over anyway. I know you don't like that and it's not in your nature, and it makes me really mad that you'd be forced into doing something against what you believe in like this, but…you're no idiot, pervert, or anything else they've ever called you, and one way or another the record needs to be set straight. No matter what you do, I know you will do what's right, and I'll help you any way I can. So do me a favor, and don't beat yourself up over it anymore, okay? Give yourself a break…for me?"
He nodded, slowly letting out a breath. He couldn't describe why, but…to hear her say that, to have her understand his deepest fear without condemnation, to accept him like that…it did something inside him, in his heart of hearts, that gave him fresh resolve. For the first time in ages, he felt a burden lift that had hung on his very being so long, he had forgotten it was there. "…okay. I will."
His lips met hers, beginning a kiss like none they'd ever shared. It was as though the remaining barriers between them had begun to crumble away, revealing their deepest, innermost selves to one another as never before. Gone were the preconceptions, the fears, the isolation they had once felt. For the first time, they truly began to understand one another in a way they had never understood themselves, to see and accept the hidden truths that defined who they were. Keitaro was no longer kissing Kitsune, the carefree flirtatious Fox: he was kissing Mitsune Konno, the woman who had gone against her own nature to risk opening her heart to him. She, too, no longer kissed the often-unlucky but secretly strong kanrinin Keitaro, but Keitaro Urashima, the man who willingly gave all of himself that he could and forgave anyone for anything they did to him, but who might never forgive himself on his own unless she let him.
For the first time, they experienced a level of intimacy beyond attraction, beyond the surface of who and what they were to one another and the world at large, that went to the very core of what made them the way they were.
Almost at the same time, they broke away and gazed into each other's eyes, and whispered the same three words to each other, both knowing deep down as they spoke them that they meant every word.
"I love you."
Three words was all it took to drive all else away. At that moment, it didn't make a bit of difference where they were, or what else was happening, or how, or why. With a passion beyond any they had felt before, the full force of those three words brought them together with the force of a tidal wave. It began at their lips, as their tongues danced to their own beat in each other's mouths. Their hands joined next, cupping and caressing each other boldly and tenderly, pulling them closer together until their lips broke off to join the fray. He lavished a line of kisses across the edge of her jaw to her ear, down her neck, over her shoulder. Her legs wrapped their way around his middle as her hands slid under his shirt to run across his chest.
She encouraged him, and he encouraged her. She removed his shirt, he lowered the straps of her nightdress with his lips. Skin-to-skin, they embraced in the rising heat of their passion for each other. Keitaro moved on instinct, and moved well; his hands and lips traveled downward, lightly and maddeningly brushing the firm, yielding flesh of her bosom. She inhaled sharply, her head tilting back and her fingers running through his hair as tingling bolts of pleasure followed every small touch. Emboldened by her response, he went a step further, gently drawing first one hardened tip in his mouth, then the other as well, eliciting deeper moans from her in the process.
As they fell sideways onto the bed, Mitsune retook the initiative, reaching and feeling and tasting everything about him she could as he was doing to her. Now it was Keitaro's turn to writhe with the attention, his body responding with heat and musk. She hooked the corner of his boxers with her right thumb, pulled the opposite side with her left big toe, and followed the material's progress downward with her other limbs. Keitaro's head now reached her abdomen, face and lips and nose trailing across and down the sensitive skin of her belly as the material of her own thin garment fell down and away.
She found him, and he found her. As the remaining material between them fell away, she made contact first, a brief but intense first caress of what she had only felt through fabric. Then it was lost, lost as his groaning response reverberated in his first contact with her, his lips tracing and delving into areas already hot with liquid fire to stoke the flames higher still. Her back arched, unintelligible groans escaping her lips as her hands grasped his head, holding it where it was, urging him to keep going. Her legs took over, reaching where her arms could not to wrap and rub and pinch with her toes everything they could find.
She was soon close, closer to that point she loved to reach on her own than she could imagine, right on the very edge. Then, and only then, did his tongue join the fray, brushing the small, sensitive nub at the top in circles before starting a deeper dive.
Her world exploded into a thousand bursts of light, her thighs squeezing his head like a vice as she came.
And it was only the beginning. When she finally released him, his head returned slowly upwards, his body sliding as close to her own as it could. She held him tightly, tasting herself on his lips, and felt the long, aching readiness he possessed between them. She was ready for him, so very ready, but one thing remained. Her bag lay near the bed, just within her reach. Her hand found the opening, pulling something she had kept in a small compartment on the side, in hope against all hope she would have the opportunity to make use of it. She made use of it now, sheathing him blindly but expertly with practiced speed, eliciting a grateful-sounding response from her companion as she did it.
Vaguely, she made a mental note to find more in a larger size. The ones she had would do the trick, but only just.
There was no barrier of resistance as he entered her; she'd taken care of that herself long ago, and on her own.
It was a good thing, she later thought, that the room had such thick walls. The noise they made in the next twenty minutes could have woken the dead otherwise.
A.N.: Well, then, there you have it: the big firsts hath been reached at last. I wrote the last scene the way I see it happening, with the attention and care of Keitaro's nature meeting the passion and intensity of Mitsune's. Highly enjoyable to write, and definitely not the last of its kind I plan on doing.
Anyway, suffice to say that things are going to get stranger and hairier from this point on. The night is still young for these two, and the next bit I wrote was inspired directly by the song "Beyond the Wasteland" from the movie Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children; listen to it, and you'll get an idea of what I mean…
On a side note, TWENTY-SEVEN PAGES—HOLY CRAP THAT WAS LONG! Or as RvB's Agent Washington might say, "That…was the longest chapter…ever. Of all time."