Interlude
The massive pounding throbbed on in her head as Motoko awoke, and as she sat up for a minute, trying to steady herself, she thought she could detect the melody of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata in the incessant pulsations of agony. Even the mere notion of getting up made her guts roil, which was a relief in some small measure; previous to this, she would have wagered her sword on the sensation that she had vomited all of her internal organs into the toilet last night. Motoko groaned.
"Bleargh."
Agreeing to a pre-competition party, Motoko admitted wryly to herself, having just avoided the suit of ancient samurai armor mid-stumble after forcing herself out of bed, was most definitely not the best idea. However, the tall warrior managed to convince herself that her actions had been striving towards the greater good. Motoko felt she had a duty to keep Kitsune away from the alcohol. After all, Kitsune was the one who had suggested the party as a way to "calm their nerves", and it had become legendary knowledge that the combination of Kitsune and alcohol, rather than having a soothing effect, struck fear into the hearts of unplucked boys and girls everywhere. Motoko had seen to it that Kitsune steered clear of the drinks, but the warrior had yet to explain to herself how downing six glasses of the mysterious blue liquid her fox-friend had produced and getting herself absolutely plastered only to wake up with a body-pounding headache fit into her clever battle strategy. There was no doubt in her tortured mind that it all fit in beautifully somehow, but the details were just a little bit hazy. 'Maybe a quick dip in the hot springs will jog my memory,' thought Motoko bitterly, 'It seems to have done a wonderful job of it so far.'
The hallway was silent as Motoko slipped out of her room, pierced only by a muffled exclamation as she tripped. Catching her balance easily despite her uncoordinated state, she made her way outside without further incident, pausing only once she was outside to do a thorough search of her surroundings for the inn's omnipresent kanrinrin. Satisfied that Keitaro was nowhere in sight, the slender girl slipped silently into the steaming waters with a sigh of relief.
Her head cleared almost immediately, and she found herself offering praise to the benevolent spirit who created hot springs. She could curse Kitsune without a second thought at the moment though. Her slippery, scheming friend and ex-lover had proven even more mysterious than usual in her position as Tsuruko and Motoko's manager. Not only had she worked the sisters into exhaustion everyday regardless of whether or not they needed the work, she had forced them to practice without ever hearing the song they were to perform the choreography to, saying only "it's a surprise" in that eternally teasing tone she had. What's more, for a person who had, to the best of Motoko's knowledge, never choreographed any sort of dance before, Kitsune seemed to have an uncanny predilection to put an alarming amount of lifts and body rubbing into the program. Many a time after having to summon every remaining drop of her mental strength to stifle the hot sensations at every touch and extended glide the sensual choreography called for to prevent herself from running away as fast as her skate clad legs would carry her to dunk herself into the nearest body of cool water, she would shoot Kitsune the direst glare she could come up with, only to be met with the other woman's unshakable, undecipherable smirk. In fact, this internal frustration might very well have been the reason why Motoko had agreed to last night's revels in the first place; in her very short lifetime she had already learned that alcohol was good at drowning out unwanted emotions. It was a one time deal though. Motoko had no intention whatsoever of becoming addicted and having to dig herself out of a hole like Kitsune, who she currently wanted very much to bury in a hole.
"Baka Kitsune, when I get my hands on her I'll-," Motoko growled to herself, the frustrated words piercing the thick steamy air like bullets. She could see very little, as the vapors of the hot spring swirled and settled over the water.
"Nani? A spat between you and Kitsune? Motoko-han, you should not have consumed so much alcohol last night." A very familiar elegant voice penetrated in the midst of Motoko's rant, causing her to squeak and pale.
The hard boulders marking the boundary of the hot spring's waters collided with her unclothed back, producing a dull smacking noise, as well as a vivid red mark that she couldn't see. Motoko closed her eyes as tightly as she possibly could and wished with all her will that the person behind the voice wasn't who she thought it was. In the next few moments, it became clear that either the young warrior didn't have very much will power, or wishing for something wasn't enough to grant it. An indistinct form began to emerge through the steam, becoming a tall slender, curvy form all too quickly.
A face remarkably like her own stopped inches away from hers as she watched on, desperately trying to remain calm, brown eyes wide. Tsuruko's head cocked to the side slightly in a questioning gaze, as her own brown eyes held Motoko's.
"Ane-ue! Ehhh, yes I apologize, I realize I lack discipline and I accept whatever punishment you see fit to enforce upon me." Motoko hung her head in a show of shame, ebony locks floating on the surface of the water, secretly glad to have an excuse to look away from Tsuruko. She took the time to direct an even more heated tirade at the dancing Kitsune in her head, shocked when long fingers grasped her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to look at her older sister.
"Given the work you've done to ensure the survival of the Shinmeiryuu I will overlook your laxity this once...however. What's going on with you and Kitsune-san, Motoko?"
Motoko thought fast. Real fast. And then, for the first time in her life, she purposefully lied to her oldest sister.
"Oh, it's nothing important, ane-ue....It just came to my attention that Kitsune was playing around with my katana and samurai armor. Nothing major, but inexcusable nonetheless, neh?"
Tsuruko seemed to swallow it without another second thought. Motoko felt like a complete heel, and had to prevent herself from telling her older sister the whole, terrible, truth. It became even worse when Tsuruko began to console her.
"Ah, I understand, Motoko-han. Just remember that Kitsune is your friend, but she is not a warrior, she does not understand our ways."
The younger Aoyama smiled weakly.
"Hai, sister."
With that, the sisters settled down in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Motoko was beginning to doze off when, again, Tsuruko's voice cut through the silence.
"Come, Motoko, we should begin to get ready...the competition begins in a few hours, and I wish to get there early to make sure we're prepared."
"Okay." Motoko quickly nodded her assent and rose from the spring, water sluicing off her streamlined form. Avoiding looking at her older sister, who had also begun to rise, she grabbed her towel from the top of the rock where she had haphazardly strewn it, and began to towel off her hair as she made her way to the door.
She never once looked back. If she had, she would have seen Tsuruko, gazing at her with a half-awestruck, half-shocked expression on her face as she wrapped her own towel around her slightly taller form and followed her younger sister, who had obviously grown up, into the inn.
A/N: Hey guys, short one this time. Next chapter is on to the competition! Woohoo! I was originally going to combine the two, but then I decided it worked better this way. As always, comments welcome. Peace and love, all.
