WARNING: BECAUSE OF THE CONTENT OF THIS CHAPTER, IT IS RATED R!
Authors Note: Ah, so good to be back in the saddle. I used to write a little, but I got a bad case of writers block, and my laptop broke. So after a year of no writing, I am back with a new account, and a new anime to write for.
I am no good at the Japanese Endings, so I will not use any –chan or –Kun, because I don't know the real meanings. If some suave l33t Japanese endings person (Ya, my vocabulary is not the greatest, but I am working on it) could fill me in, I will be sure to include the endings in the next chapter.
This story takes place at the end of the story. And if my guess is correct, this is 3 years after Keitaro first made his appearance. Every girl is still at Hinata Inn, no one new. I am sorry, but the first chapter will be a tad bit short. That will be fixed in the next few, trust me...you will see.
I am sorry for the lack of Humor in the first chapter, but this is supposed to be a prologue, and I don't want any funny quite yet, you will see why.
Chapter 1: Dead Zone
The sun crept dangerously close towards the ground, the sign that darkness was soon to creep over Hinata Hot-springs. A chill soon filled the air, but one person, not bundled up in clothing, A young man relaxed on the wall in an alleyway, his head rolling side to side, following the tempo of the song that he was plugged into. A sudden yell from his mother brought him to his senses. He jolted from the wall, nearly falling head over toe into the wall.
He stood up straight to his short 5'5" stature, a mop of black hair rested on his head, and an awkward smile. He was not the built, nor had much confidence. Though, as if in a trance, he will act on a whim, as long as there is music. He wore baggy jeans and a dark navy blue shirt. He wasn't wearing any shoes, as he didn't see a need too. Japan's a clean place, is it not?
He walked playfully, still rolling his head side to side to the beat, his eyes now closed. He walked up to the steps of his house. He jumped a few steps, landing on the top, with a large BAM! His mother, jumping from where she was standing, a watering pot thrown to the side, followed by a screech.
"REID! You KNOW that scares me!" his mother yelled, her face contorted in anger mixed with fear and relief that her son has returned from his little excursion.
Reid, continuing his parade, pulled down the headphones, and said, with a smile "It's the music that you chose" With that said, he kissed his mother on head, and walked into the house.
An hour later, Reid was relaxing on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, and pondering life in general.
He started mumbling to him self, his thoughts finding voices. "Here...Why? Life's mystery right." His eyes closed, and he envisioned himself teaching a class. The class was filled out to the brink, and all the students were paying close attention. "Scientists have always tried to figure out one thing, the problem that is us. Why are we here some people normally ask, but hear I am, to tell you the answer. Its actually quite simple, you see-"
A scream interrupted his fantasy, a shrill scream emitting from the kitchen. A smashing of windows, and two noises Reid could not place soon followed. He jumped from the bed, and leapt for a weapon immediately. Grasping the first thing that came to hand, which luckily was a wooden broom. He cautiously crept downstairs, broom held tightly in hand.
He worked his way down the remaining stairs, trying to be as quiet as he could be. He peered around the bottom wall, separating the stairs off from the house, looking at the scene unfolds. He stumbled down the stairs at the sight the kitchen held. The window had been smashed in, and the two sounds, were gunshots. His mother and father had been thrown back from the impact, a pool of blood forming at their bodies.
Reid, quickly making his way to his parents, cut his feet on the glass spilled on the floor. "MOM! DAD! DON'T DIE ON ME, PLEASE!" Tears sprung into his eyes as his father lifted his head up. He smiled faintly, and then died. "NO! DAD! PLEASE WAKE UP! PLEASE...Please...I love you, don't die." He pleaded to his father's body. He collapsed on the ground and began sobbing.
His grandparents passed away some time ago, and he had no brother or sisters. No aunts or uncles. No one. He was now lost in the world.
Reid, his heart and eyes aching, his sobbing was disturbed by the sound of the door being smashed in, hinges flying off the wall. Reid picked his head up shakily, in time for a kick to be landed across his face. His body twisted over and over as he rolled limply across the floor, glass continuing to cut his exposed flesh. Reid landed in a slump near the wall, his nose badly broken. He picked up his head, and looked up groggily, and could only mutter one thing before pain shot through his body like a wildfire "Why...?"
He rolled over, to see foot plummeting towards his face, with all intent to see it smashed inward. On a pure will to survive, he rolled out of the way, and against the wall. He groaned as pain washed over him again. He braced him self against the wall, and reached for the broom. A quick punch to the head dropped Reid again. His head bounced against the linoleum, a small gash opening up on his forehead.
His vision blurred, and he struggled to remain conscious. "Why...WHY DID YOU DO THIS!" Reid screamed, pain shooting through him again. He writhed in pain, his back arched.
The assailant spoke in a deep voice, full of venom and hate, "Why you ask, simple, that person, that father of yours, took my entire family. He took over my families business. My father couldn't take it, he went homicidal, and killed everyone but me, including my self."
A silence filled the room. The assailant got up, and walked over to the bodies. "Humph, they're dead. Too bad, I wanted to torture-"
"SHUT UP!" Reid screamed, still in a crumpled heap on the floor. The man walked over to Reid, and picked him up by the collar. The attackers true size became apparent to Reid, as he was being picked clear of the floor. He must have stood at least 6'3", and he was heavily muscular.
Reid, using the last of his strength, flailed his last kick towards the attacker, hoping to dear god that it would knock him back. It connected with the attackers face, knocking the large man back a few feet. Reid landed on his feet, and nearly slipped on the glass.
Reid warily reached for the broomstick, and grasped it in his hand. He could barely lift the broomstick, let alone swing it. The assailant came at Reid again, with all intent to finally end the young mans life.
Reid's eyes widened as the dark shadow moved closer. The teenager grasped the broomstick like a sword, and swung towards the middle of what could be death. The older man buckled at the side, his head bent forward, grasping his throbbing side. Reid pulled the broomstick off his head, like a mighty warrior, and brought it down with a terrible CRACK! The broom shattered at the point of impact, and the large man collapsed on the ground, devoid of life.
The young man fell back against the wall, his body gone numb from the adrenaline and pain. His breathing became more and more shallow. He knew if he were to sleep, he would not wake again.
His head rolled around the room again, looking at each corpse. His parents, and their killer, all-dead.
A tear strolled down his face, stinging the open cuts. He winced at the sting, and his head rotated towards the window. A head poked in, a green mo hawk, with many rings in his face. He scowled at Reid, but the Teenager could not place the name of him. "Kill the boss will you," the unknown one muttered, he reached down past Reid's vision. What he pulled up was something the frightened him to no end. An old alcohol bottle with a gasoline stained rag stuffed inside. Reid could only guess at what the contents were. A Molotov cocktail!
The cocktail was lit, and an evil glimpse flashed through his eyes. A cruel smile filled the pyromaniac visage, as his arm arched back to throw. The grenade hit the far wall as the punk took cover. It smashed against the far wall, its flammable contents spilling on the floor.
Reid crawled away from the raging inferno that was once his house. He remembered when he first moved in. He took one last glimpse at the last of his family. Their bodies became singed, but finally looked peaceful. He crawled his way to the back door, and looked up at the hilly terrain.
It went almost vertical, and was rocky and trees scattered the rocky terrain, so Reid never wanted to climb to the top, nor had the slightest wonder to what rested at the peak. All he knew was that he couldn't stay there any longer, he scampered up the hill, as best as his body would allow it.
His clothes soon became heavily soaked in blood, and started to weigh him down. Also the lack of blood made him dizzy. He found a small out cropping of rocks near the peak, and decided to take a small rest. As he reached for a branch to pull him self up, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and soon he found himself arching backward.
He turned his head around, to look at his certain death. He found himself about 50 feet off the ground, and the fall was nothing but treacherous. Trees threatened to impale the young man, and rocks threatened to rip him to shreds. Death seemed to be finally catching up to him. He felt himself falling, until a strong hand grasped his.
He looked up at his newfound savior. With one eye caked in blood and unable to open, and the other becoming harder and harder to focus, he looked up and only could see the faint image of a samurai grasping on to a sheathed katana, implanted into the rock. A samurai? No... Reid took one last close look at his hero, but before he could get a clear view, his body gave out, and his body went limp.
After Note: First chapter DONE! Ya! Ok, for those who are asking where the last scene is taking place, I put this on the right side of Hinata House. I always pictured Hinata House, since it is so close to the Mountain, on a sort of cliff before going towards the ocean. I have taken liberty with the setting, and set it up with a rocky side on both sides. It doesn't sound AS absurd as it may seem.
Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina, nor ever will. I can dream though, right?
-Devin Anderson
Authors Note: Ah, so good to be back in the saddle. I used to write a little, but I got a bad case of writers block, and my laptop broke. So after a year of no writing, I am back with a new account, and a new anime to write for.
I am no good at the Japanese Endings, so I will not use any –chan or –Kun, because I don't know the real meanings. If some suave l33t Japanese endings person (Ya, my vocabulary is not the greatest, but I am working on it) could fill me in, I will be sure to include the endings in the next chapter.
This story takes place at the end of the story. And if my guess is correct, this is 3 years after Keitaro first made his appearance. Every girl is still at Hinata Inn, no one new. I am sorry, but the first chapter will be a tad bit short. That will be fixed in the next few, trust me...you will see.
I am sorry for the lack of Humor in the first chapter, but this is supposed to be a prologue, and I don't want any funny quite yet, you will see why.
Chapter 1: Dead Zone
The sun crept dangerously close towards the ground, the sign that darkness was soon to creep over Hinata Hot-springs. A chill soon filled the air, but one person, not bundled up in clothing, A young man relaxed on the wall in an alleyway, his head rolling side to side, following the tempo of the song that he was plugged into. A sudden yell from his mother brought him to his senses. He jolted from the wall, nearly falling head over toe into the wall.
He stood up straight to his short 5'5" stature, a mop of black hair rested on his head, and an awkward smile. He was not the built, nor had much confidence. Though, as if in a trance, he will act on a whim, as long as there is music. He wore baggy jeans and a dark navy blue shirt. He wasn't wearing any shoes, as he didn't see a need too. Japan's a clean place, is it not?
He walked playfully, still rolling his head side to side to the beat, his eyes now closed. He walked up to the steps of his house. He jumped a few steps, landing on the top, with a large BAM! His mother, jumping from where she was standing, a watering pot thrown to the side, followed by a screech.
"REID! You KNOW that scares me!" his mother yelled, her face contorted in anger mixed with fear and relief that her son has returned from his little excursion.
Reid, continuing his parade, pulled down the headphones, and said, with a smile "It's the music that you chose" With that said, he kissed his mother on head, and walked into the house.
An hour later, Reid was relaxing on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, and pondering life in general.
He started mumbling to him self, his thoughts finding voices. "Here...Why? Life's mystery right." His eyes closed, and he envisioned himself teaching a class. The class was filled out to the brink, and all the students were paying close attention. "Scientists have always tried to figure out one thing, the problem that is us. Why are we here some people normally ask, but hear I am, to tell you the answer. Its actually quite simple, you see-"
A scream interrupted his fantasy, a shrill scream emitting from the kitchen. A smashing of windows, and two noises Reid could not place soon followed. He jumped from the bed, and leapt for a weapon immediately. Grasping the first thing that came to hand, which luckily was a wooden broom. He cautiously crept downstairs, broom held tightly in hand.
He worked his way down the remaining stairs, trying to be as quiet as he could be. He peered around the bottom wall, separating the stairs off from the house, looking at the scene unfolds. He stumbled down the stairs at the sight the kitchen held. The window had been smashed in, and the two sounds, were gunshots. His mother and father had been thrown back from the impact, a pool of blood forming at their bodies.
Reid, quickly making his way to his parents, cut his feet on the glass spilled on the floor. "MOM! DAD! DON'T DIE ON ME, PLEASE!" Tears sprung into his eyes as his father lifted his head up. He smiled faintly, and then died. "NO! DAD! PLEASE WAKE UP! PLEASE...Please...I love you, don't die." He pleaded to his father's body. He collapsed on the ground and began sobbing.
His grandparents passed away some time ago, and he had no brother or sisters. No aunts or uncles. No one. He was now lost in the world.
Reid, his heart and eyes aching, his sobbing was disturbed by the sound of the door being smashed in, hinges flying off the wall. Reid picked his head up shakily, in time for a kick to be landed across his face. His body twisted over and over as he rolled limply across the floor, glass continuing to cut his exposed flesh. Reid landed in a slump near the wall, his nose badly broken. He picked up his head, and looked up groggily, and could only mutter one thing before pain shot through his body like a wildfire "Why...?"
He rolled over, to see foot plummeting towards his face, with all intent to see it smashed inward. On a pure will to survive, he rolled out of the way, and against the wall. He groaned as pain washed over him again. He braced him self against the wall, and reached for the broom. A quick punch to the head dropped Reid again. His head bounced against the linoleum, a small gash opening up on his forehead.
His vision blurred, and he struggled to remain conscious. "Why...WHY DID YOU DO THIS!" Reid screamed, pain shooting through him again. He writhed in pain, his back arched.
The assailant spoke in a deep voice, full of venom and hate, "Why you ask, simple, that person, that father of yours, took my entire family. He took over my families business. My father couldn't take it, he went homicidal, and killed everyone but me, including my self."
A silence filled the room. The assailant got up, and walked over to the bodies. "Humph, they're dead. Too bad, I wanted to torture-"
"SHUT UP!" Reid screamed, still in a crumpled heap on the floor. The man walked over to Reid, and picked him up by the collar. The attackers true size became apparent to Reid, as he was being picked clear of the floor. He must have stood at least 6'3", and he was heavily muscular.
Reid, using the last of his strength, flailed his last kick towards the attacker, hoping to dear god that it would knock him back. It connected with the attackers face, knocking the large man back a few feet. Reid landed on his feet, and nearly slipped on the glass.
Reid warily reached for the broomstick, and grasped it in his hand. He could barely lift the broomstick, let alone swing it. The assailant came at Reid again, with all intent to finally end the young mans life.
Reid's eyes widened as the dark shadow moved closer. The teenager grasped the broomstick like a sword, and swung towards the middle of what could be death. The older man buckled at the side, his head bent forward, grasping his throbbing side. Reid pulled the broomstick off his head, like a mighty warrior, and brought it down with a terrible CRACK! The broom shattered at the point of impact, and the large man collapsed on the ground, devoid of life.
The young man fell back against the wall, his body gone numb from the adrenaline and pain. His breathing became more and more shallow. He knew if he were to sleep, he would not wake again.
His head rolled around the room again, looking at each corpse. His parents, and their killer, all-dead.
A tear strolled down his face, stinging the open cuts. He winced at the sting, and his head rotated towards the window. A head poked in, a green mo hawk, with many rings in his face. He scowled at Reid, but the Teenager could not place the name of him. "Kill the boss will you," the unknown one muttered, he reached down past Reid's vision. What he pulled up was something the frightened him to no end. An old alcohol bottle with a gasoline stained rag stuffed inside. Reid could only guess at what the contents were. A Molotov cocktail!
The cocktail was lit, and an evil glimpse flashed through his eyes. A cruel smile filled the pyromaniac visage, as his arm arched back to throw. The grenade hit the far wall as the punk took cover. It smashed against the far wall, its flammable contents spilling on the floor.
Reid crawled away from the raging inferno that was once his house. He remembered when he first moved in. He took one last glimpse at the last of his family. Their bodies became singed, but finally looked peaceful. He crawled his way to the back door, and looked up at the hilly terrain.
It went almost vertical, and was rocky and trees scattered the rocky terrain, so Reid never wanted to climb to the top, nor had the slightest wonder to what rested at the peak. All he knew was that he couldn't stay there any longer, he scampered up the hill, as best as his body would allow it.
His clothes soon became heavily soaked in blood, and started to weigh him down. Also the lack of blood made him dizzy. He found a small out cropping of rocks near the peak, and decided to take a small rest. As he reached for a branch to pull him self up, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and soon he found himself arching backward.
He turned his head around, to look at his certain death. He found himself about 50 feet off the ground, and the fall was nothing but treacherous. Trees threatened to impale the young man, and rocks threatened to rip him to shreds. Death seemed to be finally catching up to him. He felt himself falling, until a strong hand grasped his.
He looked up at his newfound savior. With one eye caked in blood and unable to open, and the other becoming harder and harder to focus, he looked up and only could see the faint image of a samurai grasping on to a sheathed katana, implanted into the rock. A samurai? No... Reid took one last close look at his hero, but before he could get a clear view, his body gave out, and his body went limp.
After Note: First chapter DONE! Ya! Ok, for those who are asking where the last scene is taking place, I put this on the right side of Hinata House. I always pictured Hinata House, since it is so close to the Mountain, on a sort of cliff before going towards the ocean. I have taken liberty with the setting, and set it up with a rocky side on both sides. It doesn't sound AS absurd as it may seem.
Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina, nor ever will. I can dream though, right?
-Devin Anderson