She knew that he was lying.

She didn't know how she knew, but she knew all the same. Maybe it was the fact that over the last several weeks she'd come to understand the tell-tale signs of his discomfort. Or maybe it was the sixth sense that she'd developed since returning to the Hinata-sou that confirmed to her that everyone – and she meant everyone was hiding something from her. Whatever the case was, it was moot. She was certain.

Her husband had just left her and lied about why.

Motoko heaved a sigh and pushed the math problems she had been ignoring for the better part of the last hour away from her face. With her "swiss cheese" memory, there was barely any point to studying at the best of times and now was certainly not the "best of times".

Ever since Keitaro left this morning she had been playing over the exchange between them in her mind.

"I'll only be gone overnight Motoko-chan," said her husband with an awkward smile on his face.

Motoko had frowned, she didn't know why but something was bothering her.

"Can you give me a number to call in case there is an emergency?" she had asked.

Keitaro had paused for a moment and then waved his hand as if to brush off the question.

"Just call my mobile phone if you need me. I'll have it on me all the time and that's exactly why I got it," he had replied. Leaving unsaid of course the implication that it was more for the sake of an emergency Motoko might have due to her handicap instead of any problems with the inn.

Motoko hadn't appreciated this response or the general dismissal Keitaro had given her. It was obvious that he was being evasive. When asked where he was going, he had simply replied "To visit some relatives". When asked if she could come along as she had not yet had a chance to greet Keitaro's family, he had simply claimed the trip would be too short. When asked for a phone number where he was staying, she had been redirected to the mobile phone.

Once she could brush off. Twice had bothered her. Now, hours later she realized that three was the magic number that caused her to imagine horrible things when left alone.

Was he cheating on her? It was an obvious question and one that she found highly disturbing. From Motoko's perspective, while her current self may have only "known" Keitaro for a short period, during that time he had claimed a rather large portion of territory in her heart. It was terrifying to think that not only was she physically vulnerable – being mostly confined to a wheel chair, but emotionally exposed as well.

Keitaro had been her rock, long before they had arrived back at the Hinata. The idea that this rock had been resting on sandy shale sent her heart into a tizzy.

"It can't possibly be true. Keitaro-san isn't the kind of man to do such a thing… he's so bashful and gentle."

Motoko twirled one of her forelocks in between her fingers and adjusted her seating in her chair. She ruefully acknowledged that if Keitaro wanted to cheat on her, he wouldn't have to go so far as to leave the inn. No, there was more than one girl living under this roof that was smitten with the mild mannered manager and to his credit, Motoko had never seen Keitaro so much as flirt with any of them.

"Of course, Milk-chan has sure tested him enough on that front…" Motoko thought with gritted teeth.

Kitsune, or "Milk-chan" as Motoko had nick-named her, was always full of mischief it seemed and it irritated Motoko to no end that most of it involved sexually harassing her husband. Keitaro was generally good natured about it and shrugged off her advances, but Motoko was finding she was becoming more and more intolerant of the chronically unemployed woman's attempts at getting out of her rent. She swore to herself that if she caught Kitsune planting her husband's hands on her breasts one more time, she'd cut them off – the breasts, not the hands.

Casually she brought her hands up to her own chest, not even bothering to see if anyone else was around.

"If Oneesama is anything to go by, I should at least have Narusegawa beat within the year."

Somewhat satisfied with her future prospects in this area, Motoko pushed her chair away from the table and started to wheel herself towards the living room. The issue with Keitaro's mystery trip bothered her to no end, but her rational mind told her that he'd be the last man on earth to betray her like that. In fact, the more she thought about it, she was less actually concerned with this particular incident than she was with the overall feeling that everyone seemed to be withholding something from her.

Just what could it be and how could she find out?

Haruka would be no help. The older woman was infamously tight lipped at the best of times and although Motoko's current self hadn't known her very long, she knew her well enough to acknowledge that the elder Urashima was a woman with enormous self-discipline. There'd be no way she'd spill a secret that she wanted to keep. That left really only the other girls at the Hinata and amongst them they all seemed to be actively avoiding any topic or subject of conversation other than general information relating to before "the accident". This itself was somewhat telling. Who then could she ask?

Narusegawa was, of course, not an option. The other girl avoided Motoko like the plague and she was certain it was because of the relationship between herself and Keitaro. Had they fought previously? Perhaps over Keitaro? Did Naru believe that Motoko had stolen him from her? There was some history here, Motoko was certain of it, but no one was talking.

She had thought at first that Kitsune would have been a good source of information. After all, the woman had a penchant for snooping and eavesdropping, but she was also maddeningly clever. Whenever Motoko tried to steer conversation into areas that she was curious about, the sly fox would only give her hints of the answers she was looking for. Even when Motoko pressed directly, the normally loquacious drunk would suddenly become suspiciously forgetful of details.

This hadn't gone unnoticed by Motoko and it only compounded her worries and suspicions.

This left only the three younger girls – Shinobu, Su and Sarah. While any one of them might be able to fill in some of the gaps for Motoko, she often found it hard to even find them. It seemed that Su and Sarah spent most of their time playing games in the remote corners of the estate and Shinobu, while very much present at the Hinata, would excuse herself to do "chores" whenever Motoko tried to broach topics relating to her past history in anything but the most general way.

If Motoko hadn't known better, and indeed she didn't know better, she would have assumed that someone had given all three of them direct instructions to avoid talking to her without an older resident present. Of course if that was true, then the only person capable of issuing such a demand was Haruka, who, as already established, was the tightest lipped person this side of Sagami bay.

Motoko wheeled herself down the hall, lost in these thoughts her mind was so occupied that she didn't pay attention to the sounds of the television coming from the living room of what should be a currently unoccupied Inn.

"Ara, ara – Motoko-chan what happened?" called a sultry voice with a broad Okinawan accident.

Motoko looked up and came face to face with the most bizarre sight she could ever recall seeing. Sitting there on the living room floor, dress askew and with a hint of panties exposed, was a woman collapsed in a heap, surrounded by an odd assortment of watermelons adorned with multi-coloured bows, as if they were Christmas presents several months too early.

The woman brushed her long brown hair from her face and tried to right herself.

Motoko could see the accident waiting to happen as the stranger shifted her standing leg next to a precariously placed watermelon. She was about to call out, when all of a sudden she received her second shock in just about as many seconds.

Her mind froze. Her pulse quickened. Her eyes went wild. Her arm flew out and her hand pointed an accusatory digit at the evil thing creeping… no, that's not right, it was flying up behind the other woman. Motoko tried to warn the strange girl, but the only word that came out was a choked complaint….

"T-T-T-TURTLE!"

LH-LH-LH-LH-LH

Naru Narusegawa sat alone on an abandoned park bench and stared lazily at the budding trees above. The sunshine, already bright this early in the morning, was a sharp contrast to the mood that had been following her around for the last couple of months.

"It's all that baka's fault," she muttered under her breath.

She was lying. She knew that much, but unfortunately right now lying to herself was all she could do. She had a chance, once, to respond to Keitaro's feelings with her own – but that chance seemed to evaporate literally overnight and nothing, no matter how desperately she begged or wished, would bring it back.

At first she had been shocked and in a state of denial. She had been confident that there was no way Tsuruko's little shot-gun marriage could be legal, but she had underestimated the financial and political resources of the Aoyama clan. Still, she held out hope that Motoko and Keitaro didn't really care for each other, so once everything settled down and tempers cooled, Keitaro would figure out a way to make everything right again. After all, that was the reason why she loved the idiot so much – he was hapless, usually dense and always in trouble, but somehow he always managed to pull through when she needed him to.

It probably would have worked out too, if it hadn't been for Motoko losing her memory and happily diving into the role of Keitaro's wife.

Naru sniffled once and wiped away an errant tear. Whenever she thought about Keitaro and Motoko together, which due to living at the Hinata was damn well nearly every hour of the day, her emotions erupted unbidden. Rage. Despair. It was all the same – She was poor at controlling her feelings under normal conditions, but day by day having to endure seeing the man she loved married to a stranger wearing the face of her friend was slowly driving her to the brink.

"I might have to move out," she said to no one in particular.

"Ara?" came the reply.

Naru wiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked up in a hurry and a familiar face, wearing a look of concern, greeted her glistening eyes.

"Na-chan? What's wrong? Did you and Kei-kun have another fight?" asked the woman.

Naru didn't know if she should be surprised or not. Otohime Mutsumi had a strange way of showing up that seemed to be guided either by fate or by chaos theory, but one thing was sure – when she did, "things" would happen. These things weren't always good, but they usually they had a profound impact – particularly on the romantic situation between Naru and Keitaro.

Naru cleared her throat and spoke. "You could say that…"

Of course, that was the understatement of the year.

Mutsumi brushed out her long green dress and took the empty seat next to Naru. She put a calm hand on her friends arm and gave her a look of empathy and understanding.

"What was it this time? Groping? Peeping? Accidently slathering himself with mayonnaise and wearing your underwear on his head while chasing Shinobu-chan around the house with a large banana?"

Naru cocked an eye and began to respond before she bit her own tongue. Pointedly ignoring Mutsumi's overly descriptive scenario of Keitaro's imaginary transgressions, she considered for a moment what she should tell her friend. Hell, she wondered what she could tell her and not run afoul of Haruka.

Mutsumi noticed Naru's hesitation and narrowed her eyes in a furious attempt to "think". It was quite a challenge for the normally airheaded Okinawan, but she wasn't about to give up.

"Wait… I was close with the underwear wasn't I?" she asked.

Naru shook her head violently.

Mutsumi pondered for a moment and then her normally sleepy eyes went wide.

"DON'T TELL ME IT WASN'T A BANANA?" she gasped while bringing her hands to the side of her face.

Naru reached out and put her hands over Mutsumi's. It was time to end this train of thought before it went too much further off the rails.

"It's not that Mutsumi-chan… It's just…"

Naru struggled internally for a moment, then continued.

"Look… why don't you talk to Keitaro about it first?" she finally said. It was the safest bet – that way, Keitaro could decide how much he wanted to tell Mutsumi and if the vapid girl accidently let something slip, well it wouldn't be her fault.

Mutsumi didn't look too pleased by the answer, but nodded slowly anyway. She knew that Na-chan wasn't always so forthcoming about her feelings, but she also knew that her friend dearly loved Kei-kun. She was certain of it, so much so that she never once felt sad about giving him away to her.

For Mutsumi, so long as her friends were happy, then she could be happy too, even if it meant she'd never find a love of her own.

"Well, I have been meaning to drop off some gifts ever since Kei-kun broke his leg…" Mutsumi mused out loud. Truthfully, she really had meant to visit him in the hospital, but both times she had tried she had ended up lost. Sadly, it was a common occurrence for her.

Naru was about to tell her friend that Keitaro was out of town today – he had left early that morning for a trip to Kyoto, but suddenly she closed her mouth and thought.

"Wait… the only person who should be home right now is… Motoko?"

This was an opportunity, and Naru knew it. With Keitaro gone and Motoko home alone, if Mutsumi just happened to show up…

"I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," she said, just a little too briskly.

It was a pretty low thing to do and she did feel slightly guilty about it, but at the same time it was entirely unreasonable for Haruka to demand that they keep such a colossal secret from Motoko. And it wasn't like Motoko herself wasn't curious – she had heard the girl ask several pointed questions over the last couple of weeks that demonstrated that even she knew "something" was up.

Wasn't this actually doing Motoko-chan a favour? How long could Haruka really expect everyone to lie to the poor girl?

Naru desperately held on to that last thought as she waved to her departing friend. Still, she might decide to eat dinner out tonight… just in case.

It wouldn't be good to appear too soon at the "scene of the crime" looking and feeling guilty.

LH-LH-LH-LH-LH

"Myu?" eeped one particularly intelligent terrapin of the "hot springs" genus at no one in particular.

Motoko, her body still involuntarily shaking in fear, tried to fumble for the wheels of her chair in a furious effort to remove herself from the scene, only to find her fingers grasping at air and her limbs trembling in terror.

"Oh Tama! There you are!" exclaimed Mutsumi as she dramatically patted her billowing brown hair. The turtle, Tama-chan as she was known, was resting inelegantly on the crown of the Okinawan girls head and peering quizzically at the scene before her.

"Ara? Motoko-chan?" asked Mutsumi as she noticed the other girls desperate disposition.

Without hesitation, Mutsumi patted her head, shifting Tama-chan into some unknown (and possibly extra dimensional) space and out of sight. She knew that Motoko didn't like turtles, but she hadn't seen her react so violently to the mere sight of one before.

"It's okay, Tama doesn't mean any harm…" said Mutsumi softly as she tried for the third time to pick herself up off the ground.

With the offending creature out of sight, Motoko finally had a chance to calm down and think. Who was this strange woman in the house? Why were there watermelons all over the floor? And why the hell was she so terrified of a tiny little turtle?

"It was so creepy… and its eyes… beady little eyes like a demon."

With one last shudder, Motoko composed herself and found her voice.

"Ahem… excuse me?" she said, still slightly shaken, "Who are you?"

"Ara?" puzzled Mutsumi. What a strange question. Was this some sort of game?

Snapping her fingers, Mutsumi lowered herself down to Motoko's eye level and smiled.

"Who are you?" she asked cheerfully, certain that this was how the game was played.

Motoko blinked. Didn't this woman already call out her name? Why would she ask such a question?

"What if… what if this is one of those metaphysical types of questions? Who am I? Do I really know?"

It was a question that she had asked herself countless times since she had awoken months ago in that hospital room, but one that recently she had been almost afraid to find the answer to. Without realizing it, Motoko began to judge Mutsumi in a new light. Instead of a clumsy and odd girl appearing in her living room, perhaps she was simply very "zen".

Was this apparently strange woman really some sort of overly voluptuous Okinawan Buddha?

"Wait… why do all the older girls that show up here all have such enormous breasts?"

Motoko shook her head to banish the thought. She didn't have time for her insecurities right now. She felt instinctively as if she had been handed an opportunity for enlightenment – or at least, someone who knew her, or knew of her, that she hadn't actually met before. It was a rare chance.

Still, she worried about what she'd find out so she hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"Who would you say I am?" she asked – the hesitation clear in her voice.

LH-LH-LH-LH-LH

Haruka lazily strolled up the winding path behind the tea house towards the Hinata-sou. It was almost lunch time and while Motoko was clearly capable of feeding herself, business had been slow today so the former "dorm mother" decided to pay a visit to her new in-law by excuse of dropping off an obento for the younger girl.

If Haruka was honest about her feelings, and she seldom was, she would admit that she actually rather enjoyed the company of her nephews new wife. It was a strange experience – Haruka had known Motoko since she had graduated from middle school and first came to the Hinata, but the girl now living under their roof, although she had the same name and face, only vaguely resembled her former self.

Haruka didn't want to outright say that the "new" Motoko was an improvement… but, she could safely say that she had never gotten quite as close to the old one who had lived here for the last couple of years.

"Keitaro seems to be handling it well. Maybe I was worried over nothing? Heck, come to think of it… with Motoko-chans change in attitude, as strange as it is to say it, she's easily the most "normal" girl that lives here now."

Haruka smirked at that thought as she took the last two steps up to the door of the inn. Her opinion on the matter of Motoko's abrupt change in personality wasn't a very popular one among the residents. Most of them, even if they never said it outright, were merely counting the days until the "old Motoko" came back. You could tell by the way they interacted with her – keeping her at arms-length like she was a stranger, but not quite so far as to be overtly rude. Only Shinobu-chan had seemed to warm up to the girl, but given the shy little cooks general good nature, this was only to be expected.

"I wonder what Kei thinks about that? Does he want the old Motoko back? Is he happy with the way things are going? Ugh…. Do I really want to know how 'things' are going?"

While Keitaro's opinions on the "authenticity" of his relationship with Motoko were still very much an unknown quantity, Haruka – if she was reading the situation correctly, was pretty sure that if Motoko continued on her present course, within a year or so they'd be greeting a new Urashima at the Hinata. It was a bizarre thought, because while she might be able to imagine Motoko as a mother someday, the mental image of Keitaro as a father was just too weird for her brain to cope with.

Opening the door to the Sou, Haruka turned through the foyer and was about to call out for Motoko when she heard a voice coming from the living room. No, scratch that – it was two voices. She raised one of her eyebrows, curious because no one but Motoko should be here today, and proceeded in the direction of the conversation.

"Oh, I just came by to drop off these gifts and wish Kei-kun well," said a voice in a distinctively broad Okinawan accent that could only belong to Otohime Mutsumi.

"Wait? Why is Mutsumi-chan here?" wondered Haruka. Her body however, was one step ahead of her brain and immediately she began to pick up pace.

"Wait! Mutsumi-chan is here!"

Haruka wasn't a woman prone to panic, but the inveterate airhead and childhood friend of both Naru and Keitaro hadn't been around for months, so clearly she wouldn't know about the current situation and the amount of information she could let slip… well, it was dangerous and clearly exactly the type of material that Motoko's doctor had warned about.

"By the way, do you know why Kei-kun and Na-chan are fighting again? Ara, those two – I never know if they're going to get together or not!"

"Shit!" swore Haruka, her cigarette dangling precipitously from her drawn lips as she rounded the corner and barrelled into the room.

"Oh hey!" she blurted out, completely at a loss for words but needing desperately to stop the current conversation.

Both of the other girls turned to face Haruka, but Motoko quickly turned her head back. Haruka had seen that look before – she'd worn it herself enough. Motoko was annoyed, maybe even a little pissed off. Haruka wondered how much damage the ditzy turtle girl had already done.

"What were you saying about Keitaro-san and Narusegawa-san?" asked Motoko, her voice clear and firm.

Mutsumi looked startled for a moment, the distractions too much for her scatterbrained sense to follow.

"Oh, right… I ran into Na-chan in the park and she was crying…"

Haruka took a loud step forward.

"Ah, that girl!" she exclaimed, "She's so emotional, isn't she?"

She had tried to make the statement sound like a jest, but being someone unaccustomed to jesting, or even making small conversation, it sounded so awkward as to immediately arouse Motoko's suspicion. As such, she turned back to Haruka and gave her such an awful look. It was a look that clearly said, "I know what you are doing!"

Mutsumi, easily distracted, began to follow along that topic of conversation, but Motoko wasn't having any of it. Haruka's pitiful attempts at misdirection had flicked some yet unknown switch inside the girl and she pressed forward.

"We were talking about Keitaro-san and Narusegawa-san. You said she was crying over Keitaro-san?" asked Motoko, leaning forward in her chair.

Mutsumi pivoted her head back and forth between Motoko and Haruka; unsure as to whom she was supposed to answer. Haruka contemplated this moment of indecisiveness and her available options in dealing with the problem at hand. Sadly, most of them involved punching or kicking – Haruka wasn't the best at talking herself out of problems, that was more Kitsune's style. Fortunately for both her and Mutsumi, the solution to the problem poked its shiny little head out of the latter's hair.

"Myu?" asked Tama-chan as she erupted from Mutsumi's bangs and directly into the face of Motoko, who as fate would have it, was leaning forward at the time. The results were frenetic and predictable, with Motoko reduced to a quivering mess in barely the amount of time it took for Mutsumi to mutter a puzzled, "Ara? Ara?"

"Huh, how about that?" thought Haruka as she watched events unfold. "She lost her memory, but somehow she's still afraid of turtles?"

Somehow, almost miraculously, the day had been saved. Haruka let out an earnest sigh and went about salvaging the situation as best she could.

LH-LH-LH-LH-LH

Dinner was a sullen affair. Haruka had quickly ushered Mutsumi on her way, insisting that Motoko was injured and needed her rest but assuring that she'd have Keitaro call as soon as he came back to the inn. It was a delaying tactic at best, but for now it'd have to do. Narusegawa, mercifully, had never showed up for dinner and while that was a small blessing, the situation was still far from good.

Haruka wasn't sure exactly what kind of information Motoko had gotten out of Mutsumi today, but whatever it was had obviously fouled her mood. Her behaviour at dinner alternatively consisted of stabbing her food violently with her chopsticks, or staring daggers at everyone around the table. The atmosphere was getting so oppressive that Haruka felt that if she didn't somehow diffuse the situation quickly, poor timid Shinobu would crack under the pressure and do something strange.

And lord knows Haruka didn't need any more "strangeness" to deal with today.

"Kitsune," ventured Haruka, "Why don't you take the girls down to the tea-shop and give them some dessert."

Before the fox could respond, Su piped up, "But I haven't even finished dinner yet!"

Sarah and Shinobu, both aware that something was going down, simply looked at the older Urashima with pleading eyes.

"Make it a banana split sundae," added Haruka.

Su immediately put down her chopsticks and pushed her plate away.

"Well, I'm done. Let's go!" she exclaimed as she turned on her heel and made way for the door.

While Sarah slowly slid in behind to follow her playmate, Shinobu gave Haruka a look of relief. Being more gentle in nature and more aware of other people's feelings, the shy girl was simply at her limit and grateful for the chance to escape – even if her dinner wasn't done. In mere moments, with Kitsune bringing up the rear, the rest of the current residents had departed leaving only Haruka and Motoko staring at each other across the now abandoned dinner table.

There was a long drawn out silence as the two women faced off with each other. Motoko went to move her mouth twice, but each time stopped. Clearly she was frustrated, but trying to find the right words to express as much. Haruka simply waited. She worked best when she didn't talk much.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Motoko spoke.

"Tell me why Keitaro-san and I got married," she stated bluntly.

Haruka kept her poker face and responded quickly.

"It was an arranged marriage."

"I know that!" spit out Motoko, "Who arranged it?"

"Your family," replied Haruka with a terse tone. Even now, Tsuruko's antics were still a rather large sore point with her.

Motoko chose her next words carefully.

"Were we forced into it?" she said with emphasis.

Haruka paused for a moment, considering how to answer.

"It's not like either of you were even dating anyone else…" she said casually.

Motoko's eyebrows wrinkled.

"That wasn't an answer to my question…" she muttered, a clear tone of exasperation in her voice.

She knew that she and Keitaro were in an arranged marriage. That wasn't a huge secret. She had also known that they had lived here, together, for at least a year under the same roof. She assumed that they were on somewhat friendly terms, and secretly she suspected that she might have harboured a crush on him due to finding her own writings. But still… something seemed off.

"What does Keitaro-san think of me?"

That was the question that Motoko wanted to have answered. It was the question that had been rolling around in the back of her head for weeks now. It was the question that made her worry so much when he had gone off this morning telling her obvious half-truths.

It was the question that any girl who was in love wanted to know.

Sure, he had said to her that they were in love. But what did that really mean? Was it one sided? Was he saving her feelings? Or was it true? Did it happen before or after the omiai? And where the hell did Narusegawa fit into all this?

Motoko clenched her fists. The irritable brunette irked her to no ends – she knew that Narusegawa had some feelings for her husband, but what if…

Suddenly, the question came to her and she leaned across the table, both anxious and fearful for what was to come next.

"Were Keitaro-san and Narusegawa-san in love?" she asked.

Haruka was never more thankful for her perennial poker face than she was now. This was probably the last question that she wanted to answer, but also the very root of all the problems hounding everyone. The smart thing to do here would be to lie. Haruka knew that and had even instructed her nephew to do so if pressed. She had never considered that her own penchant for blunt honesty and dislike for weasel words would be the impetus for letting out the truth.

"I think they were," she said simply.

The stunned look on Motoko's face made up the bulk of her immediate reply.

LH-LH-LH-LH-LH

A/N:

Well, the truth can't stay hidden forever, can it? I thought of a few different ways to get to this revelation before I hit upon this one. I'm fairly happy with it, plus it allows me to put Mutsumi in as a cameo. I like her as a character (she's funny) and I really want to do some sort of treatment for all of the major Love Hina characters and technically she's one of the potential romantic leads of the show, so when you combine all those factors together I think she needs to have some role in this story – and what a role it was too.

Things are obviously about to hit a turning point. I wonder what will be awaiting Keitaro when he finally returns from Kyoto?