Disclaimer: Okay, obviously I don't own Love Hina. I've dealt with it....I've moved on.



A/N: This is shoujo-ai (girl/girl relationship) and in addition, it is incest. No graphic-ness yet, but these themes warranted the rating. If either of these don't float your boat, there are plenty of excellent fanfics that don't contain either. However, this is not one of them. So with this warning, and all this reading and realizing time for you to vacate this page, I claim no responsibilities for traumatized minds, closed minds, basically any mindset whatsoever save for my own. This is also non-canon, so try not to get too neurotic please ^_^. Italics emphasize words, thoughts are placed in ' ' doohickeys.

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Genesis Revelations



Once again they stood on the battlefield, the setting that was ever present in her dreams, now made all too real. She had always known this day would come, and she had always dreaded it. The solid knowledge lay in her mind that no matter how much she had trained, no matter how prepared she was for this, there was no way she could emerge the victor.



She gazed at the older version of herself from across the field, her heart beating in and through her chest like an erratic profession of her reluctance, no, her inability to put her all into the fight. Her sister waited calmly, as always serene and elegant, her battle aura just a thought's breath away. 'Tsuruko,' she thought despairingly, 'why do you always have to do this to me?' Her grip on her blade tightened, the connection with an object so much a part of her somehow reassuring her, until Tsuruko's voice cut across the distance separating them.



"Motoko, you may begin anytime you are ready."



The younger dark haired warrior nodded her acquiescence swiftly, thinking with no little amusement, 'If that were so, we would never begin, and we would be doomed to stand on this battlefield for eternity, for I will never be ready to do battle with you, sister.' Of a surety, she did have support, if you counted that perverted fool Urashima as support. She looked back to see him standing on the sidelines, observing the proceedings with that huge grin he had, the one that could power all the lights in Japan for a year. Also, there was the strange blade he had given her, the Hina blade. It felt strange, almost sinister in her slightly sweaty grip, but the power radiating from it was tangible, undeniable. Nevertheless, Motoko Aoyama most definitely would not count the odds in her favor. All her life she had admired Tsuruko as the prodigy of the God's Cry School, and she knew better than anyone else that all the admiration Tsuruko had garnered for her steady demeanor, graceful movement, and unsurpassable skill with the blade was not idly earned. However, beyond all else, Motoko counted herself a warrior, and a warrior did not back down, even when it killed her to press on. With this in mind, she gave a cry, that echoed across the clear area.



In tandem with her shout, she charged at her opponent, her white gi and dark hair fluttering in the wind created by her progress. Planting her feet in the ground before her still calm sister, who had not moved an inch since Motoko began her charge, she flexed and sprang into the air, momentarily hovering in the air above. Once the initial moment of inertia passed, she began her plummet aimed directly at Tsuruko's still form, the Hina blade slicing in an up-down motion unerringly at the target. The singing black blade met with empty air, Tsuruko having moved with amazing speed at the last possible moment. If Motoko had been able to see Tsuruko move, she imagined she would have seen her sister shift gracefully out of harm's way, without a single change in her stoic expression. Motoko could have sworn she'd heard that idiot Urashima whisper something startlingly like "show-off", so she guessed that was about how it happened, but her mind was on something else. The fight that her subconscious refused to allow her to win. Immediately she followed up her initial stroke with a sweeping slice, executed as she landed gently on the stone of the ground. Once again, she met with nothing. 'It is rather irritating to hit nothing twice in a row, and rather wasteful of energy.' Motoko told herself, chastising herself mentally, looking wildly about for her, at least in name, opponent. Tsuruko had already begun her ascent. Unable to stop herself, Motoko watched her sister's rise into the air with a sense of awe, like a animal caught in the headlights of some beautiful but deadly automobile. All too soon, even as she was still focused on the image that looked like it was created in the mind of some gracious idealist, she realized that Tsuruko was coming back down, and coming back down unbelievably fast. Barely in time, Motoko gathered her wits and rolled out of harm's way, moments before Tsuruko's blade struck the stone on which a frozen Motoko had kneeled, shattering it in an undulating shockwave that boosted a still rolling Motoko into the air upon its energy and then dropped her down again with a, to Motoko's undying shame, very ungraceful thump.



"Motoko. Your crude style is quite disheartening. Your attack lacks conviction. How do you expect yourself to take my place if you cannot put your heart into the technique?" Tsuruko said, in what passed for her as a rueful tone, her sword sweeping for the end of the short lived battle. Motoko watched the blade draw closer, and although she could easily have dodged out of the way, she didn't. The crushing knowledge of her sister's disapproval robbed her of her desire to act. All her life she had looked up to Tsuruko. Everybody looked up to and admired Tsuruko, but no one more than Motoko. And now, Motoko bowed her head, it was over. Although she did not ever have the intention of disappointing the sister she had placed on a pedestal, there was no way she could ever hurt Tsuruko.



Explosions rang throughout the paved field as Su's special bombs detonated, and in the aftermath of the explosions a thick cloud of smoke billowed over the battleground, obscuring the vision of everybody present, but giving the young warrior a definite opportunity. As any warrior would, she took it. Quickly Motoko came to her feet, coughing slightly from the large particles in the debris, and swung her blade up to the ready position. She glanced behind her to see Keitaro giving her a strange thumbs-up sign, smiling that infectious smile of his. 'Well, maybe he isn't quite so much of a fool...' she thought offhandedly. That was something to think about on a rainy day, she decided. Now was the time for the fight. Slowly the smoke began to clear, the gently stirring wind serving to clear some of the billowy debris. A figure began to emerge from the shifting hazy gray. Tsuruko stood at ease, like some image from an old epic, the warrior goddess after the storm, her sword hanging deceptively relaxed from her grip at her side. The explosions..hadn't ruffled her at all, Motoko could tell, not a tear in her robe or a single errant hair.



"Resorting to cheap tricks sister? Well I must confess, it was somewhat of a shock. However, tricks are not a replacement for true technique and skill. This ends now." Tsuruko's face took on her Motoko punishing visage, causing Motoko to sweatdrop and quake with fear. She hated when her older sister was angry with her. It almost made her want to commit seppuku on the spot, if she didn't know it would be beyond dishonorable. With a tensing of muscles, Tsuruko began her flurry of attacks, Motoko barely defending, feet steadily inching backwards in an attempt to escape the onslaught of her angry sister. Blades contacted again and again, the brief but frequent strikes causing Motoko to wear down, become desperate for a halt in the onslaught mounted by the older warrior. Suddenly, she spied an opening. The strategy exploded into her mind with crystal clarity. Feint an attack to Tsuruko's left, and then come around through the opening to rest her blade on the side of Tsuruko's exposed neck. It was perfect and she had every confidence it would succeed, if she acted now, before the moment passed.



Internally she prepared herself to initiate the attack, her grip tightening with the Hina blade and as the moment approached she readied herself. Even as she should have began the feint that would bring about the coup, she realized that she couldn't do it. The moment passed in an instant, the opening closed. Tsuruko sliced, knocking the dark blade out of Motoko's quickly numbing hands. The older Aoyama's leg sweeped around, knocking Motoko to her knees. An instant later, she was kneeling on the ground with Tsuruko's shining iron blade pressed against her throat.



"Yield." Tsuruko said calmly, with no trace of emotion in her dark eyes. The steel pressed gently into Motoko's neck, just enough to send a clear threat, but not enough for its sharp edge to draw blood. Motoko heaved an internal sigh. It was over. Although the day had brought her no honor as a warrior because she knew she had not tried her hardest, it was undeniable that she had lost, and with this, there was relief. She opened her mouth to shape the word, the word of submission that she had only ever uttered to her older sister, who was the only person in the world she considered worthy of her submission.



"NO!" A distinctly male voice carried into the girl's ear. The voice was panicked and just the tone of it made her want to wheel around and knock Urashima skybound. 'Instinctive reflex.' Motoko guessed. She almost found herself screaming with irritation. 'That idiot. What the hell's he doing now?!'. Both Tsuruko and Motoko whipped their heads around to see what was going on, Motoko wincing briefly in pain as Tsuruko's blade bit shallowly into her neck. 'Fortunately, not a vital part.' she told herself, blocking the pain out as she watched Urashima running for the Hina blade. Before anyone could stop him, he had the black blade in his hands.



As soon as he touched the mysterious Hina blade, dark energy began to pulsate around him, the sword somehow instilling him with some kind of spiritual force. A grin unlike his usual megawatt smiles lit up his face, transforming it from just mildly dull to maniacally idiotic, at least in Motoko's eyes. Somehow, Keitaro Urashima had become stronger, more assured, most obviously not himself. He stared at his hands holding the Hina blade as if it was some long lost lover, caressing the slightly worn hilt as if it were warm flesh long missed. Then he turned and leered at the two women before he spoke.



"Ahhh, a new body at last, and..how convenient it is, to have two whelps from the God's Cry School of bitches so readily near for my destructive pleasure." He stretched, as if accustoming himself to a new body, like the flesh was something he was inexperienced with, the muscles not his own. Experimentally he flexed a few muscles, somewhat similar to test driving a new car before taking it out for a ride. Staring at the puny flaccid muscles through Keitaro's grimy glasses, he grimaced.



"It is quite a pathetic body," he said to himself, "but with my blade it will be more than enough."

The person who obviously was not Keitaro any longer began advancing on the two women, the menace unmistakable in his eyes. His sword was almost radiating the evil desire to rend and tear, to destroy without discrimination. The malicious intent was echoed in every footstep evil Keitaro took, each contact he made with the ground was like a spreading of his blight.



Tsuruko whipped her blade smoothly away from Motoko's pale slender neck, which was slowly trickling bright crimson blood from the shallow cut the blade had made. Motoko looked up to see concern in her beloved older sister's eyes.



"Damn me for a fool!," Tsuruko said angrily. "I should have noticed it before. Motoko, that blade you wielded, was it the Hina blade?"



"Yes...yes it was. Why?" Motoko's heart fell. Almost she had believed that Tsuruko was concerned about the cut upon her neck. As the thought hit her, she dismissed it roughly. Motoko Aoyama was a warrior and physical pain was nothing. However, she was now very nervous, because somehow she knew she wasn't going to particularly enjoy the answer to her question.



"I'll tell you later. No time now!" Tsuruko said as the evil spirit possessing Urashima swung. Tsuruko swiftly blocked the swing and parried, only to have her blade repelled in turn.



"Oh, now I know that is truly not Keitaro Urashima. There is absolutely no possibility of that clodhopper lasting this long in a battle against the prodigy of the Shinmei Ryuu. In fact, there is absolutely no possibility of that clodhopper even being able to hold a blade without impaling himself in the foot with it." Motoko muttered to herself, still prone in her position on the floor, somewhat afraid of being sliced by an errant blade, as she knew that her sister's concern right now was not for her and evil Urashima definitely would consider it a good day's work to eliminate the heir to the Shinmei Ryuu School, even if it was an extremely inadequate heir.



Motoko heard a gasp, and she saw that evil Keitaro had dodged a thrust of Tsuruko's and had used her propelling forward momentum to bring her roughly into his ready arms in some kind of twisted caress. Swiftly, he swept her down into something like a cliched scene from a romance novel, not that Motoko had ever indulged in such things. Planting his lips demandingly on Tsuruko's, enjoying the look of supreme shock on the beautiful warrior's face, ignoring the silver blade falling from her suddenly nerveless grasp, he began kissing the hell out of her.



'Oh god, tell me he's not using tongue. Shit. He is.' A sickening wave of emotion passed through Motoko's frame. It was a revitalizing wind blowing through her flesh, leaving her refreshed and energized, better than ever. That rat bastard who was almost as perverted as Urashima was kissing her sister. Retribution would sound its cruel bell of inevitablity through the instrument of Tsuruko's blade, wielded by the sister who idolized her. Soundlessly she ran towards evil Keitaro and her sister, sweeping up Tsuruko's fallen blade. Anger burst inside her, lending her even more strength. Years of persistent and constant training allowed her to harness that otherwise blinding anger into power, instead of letting it overcome her and control her actions.



Tsuruko's body fell to the ground in an unconscious heap as the evil spirit finally released her from his grasp, all the chi seemingly sucked out of her by the kiss of evil Urashima. He straightened, laughing evilly even as Motoko gave a cry of unbridled and pure horror and charged him.



Their blades clashed, dancing in a contest of wills as they charged about the battlefield at unbelievable speeds, blurs of color stopping every so often in locked blades, only to break apart and begin the tango again. The evil spirit had underestimated her, she knew. It had consciously observed the fight between her and Tsuruko even as Motoko had wielded it in the form of the Hina blade. For obvious reasons, it was not impressed by her battle prowess. Then and there, she vowed to teach the evil spirit the true fury of a student of the God's Cry School. Through the flashing of their often conjoined swords, Motoko saw her opening. This time, she did not hesitate to take it. The evil spirit was not Tsuruko. Leaping into the air with the prowess and grace of a hunting cat, she performed the most difficult attack in the God's Cry School.



"Cutting Evil Strike!"



The shock wave flashed a rippling and blinding white and crashed through Urashima's body, wracking it in agony as the evil spirit tried to resist exorcism. However, it soon became clear that it was a losing battle and the spirit was soon expelled back into the dark Hina blade from whence it had emerged, the tortured and angry dark mist crawling under the surface of the black steel. With no one left to hold it, the blade fell in tandem with Keitaro's body and clanged on the stone paving with ringing noises that sounded almost unnatural compared to the silence that bloomed ripe and heady after Motoko had performed the Cutting Evil Strike.



Motoko fell to her knees, actually not believing that it had worked, extremely exhausted from the effort of executing the ultimate attack of the God's Cry School. Deep breaths slowly pumped the adrenaline out of her system, only to have her heartbeat jackknife again at an alarming rate as she heard soft clapping, followed by a familiar low, melodious voice.



"Well done, sister. You fought well indeed...in fact, I wonder if I could have matched your performance." Tsuruko still lay on the ground, with one arm propping up her head. She looked at her younger sister in a curious fashion, as if there was some question plaguing her in the back of her mind and she couldn't quite pin the answer down. Unnerved by Tsuruko's questioning eyes, and so full of relief to find her older sister well that she was about to cry in a most unwarrior-like fashion, she quickly moved to make sure Urashima was alive, muttering only the perfunctory phrase.



"It was nothing, sister."



"Wow! What just happened? Did I miss anything?!" Keitaro sprang up like a human jack-in-the-box, apparently completely healthy. His sudden action caused Motoko to utter a soft cry and stumble backwards, tripping on a crack in the stone to land on the still reclining Tsuruko.



Her head's landing was softly pillowed by Tsuruko's stomach, however, the force of the fall caused both Tsuruko and Motoko to grunt softly. Momentarily disoriented, Motoko lay there on Tsuruko, the scent of Tsuruko's body enveloping her, and the warmth of her body making Motoko's heart beat erratically. She stiffened as Tsuruko's hand came up to gently cup the side of her face.



"Are you all right?" Tsuruko asked.



"Yes, I'm fine, sister." Motoko raised herself reluctantly to a sitting position, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs from within. She had, she had almost detected a sense of concern in her sister's normally stoic expression. Immediately, she winced. 'That damn cut, I reopened it again.' She needed to distract herself from the hope. Thankfully, there was an easy target nearby.



"URASHIMA!!" She screamed at the top of her very ample lung power. She would have hit him with her sword, but it was not the bokken she usually wielded and, contrary to popular belief, she never had any intention whatsoever to kill Urashima, she merely wanted at times to incapacitate him for prolonged periods of time. However, though she could not strike him with her blade, she could deliver a punch as powerful as Naru's, with a whopping kick to boot. Therefore, with one punch to the face, and one roundhouse kick to the stomach, Keitaro Urashima, the seemingly immortal human cannonball, was sent flying into space. Tsuruko and Motoko watched his progression into the sky, with identical expressions on their similar faces. As the speck that was Keitaro vanished from sight, Tsuruko turned to Motoko with an almost reproachful look on her face.



"Motoko, you should not have done that quite so violently...I'm sure he did not do that on purpose." Tsuruko was once again her unruffled, always in control, self. Perhaps deeming the subject closed, she moved on. "You did well against the spirit. However, you did not win the duel against me. Therefore you are not yet ready to be head of the God's Cry School."



Motoko bowed her head in acceptance of her sister's judgement, and gathered up the Hina blade, making ready to leave.



"There's blood on your gi, sister!" Noticing the bright splash of fluid on Tsuruko's stomach that must have come from her neck cut, she was overcome with horror. "I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful."



In her distress, she tried in vain to rub out the blood with her hands, succeeding only in staining them a crimson shade. Her efforts were stopped in their tracks with a pair of gentle hands closing warmly over her own.



"It's fine, Motoko. Leave it, I shall tend to it later." Tsuruko smiled kindly at the little sister many called a younger, still less refined version of herself.



Mortified at her uncharacteristic behavior, Motoko turned and began to walk off the field, almost reaching the edge of the stone before she was once again halted in her tracks, this time by Tsuruko's calm voice.



"Motoko," Like always, just that voice alone speaking her name was enough to halt her in her tracks and make her hang on every approaching word. "There was one thing I was wondering. If you did so extremely well against the evil spirit..why was your performance so poor against me? It was as if your focus and your chi were not in the battle."



"I....I don't know, sister. I guess I shall have to train harder." Motoko began to walk again, faster. In truth, she did not know. There was only a feeling infused within her that she could not identify. All at once, the memory returned to her of Keitaro kissing Tsuruko. It hit her like a wave that she could not escape from. She had been jealous of that evil Keitaro Urashima! Moving quickly away from the battlefield she brushed tears away from her cheeks, pushing away the thought that burned in her mind, that burned on the back of her tongue, the thought that she could never, would never say, especially now that she realized what that feeling was, and why she had been unable to give her all in the duel against her older sister. In her mind, the reason sounded off and rested within every inch of her flesh, begging to be proclaimed in its newfound realization. 'Tsuruko, I love you.'