Hey people, I know I still have a fic that yet needs to be finished but
then I got this really cool idea that I really want to do so.I'm going to
write this!!!!!! *Puts on white headband across forehead. * Please give me
lots and lots of reviews to support this fic! Thankya all!!!
Love Hina AU: Katana Behind The Bleak
Chapter 1: Prologue-The Blurry Past
A dark shadow pursued her. She turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the dark figure. It was.. she couldn't make out who the shadowy figure was. Everywhere around her was dark. She could only sense the shadow's presence. She turned to run. Hot tears streamed her eyes. She could feel the pain aching from down her knees, stretching upwards to tear her spine apart. What was causing the pain? Then she felt the warm blood trickling down her back and slithering its way down her muscle-torn knees. The dark shadow continued to follow quicker.it was catching up. She started to run faster and faster, her heart pumping with the pace of each step. She looked ahead, and saw nothing ahead of her; pitch darkness. "How come I'm not running into anything?" she wondered. Within the period to that last thought, she crashed into something, something peculiar. It was as if she entered through a zone change. Everywhere around her seemed different. It felt like she was drowning in an ocean so deep, never ending. She tilted her weary head up and found a source of light drifting above the top of the surface. She reached her numb hands out, stretching to catch the light. Reaching and reaching.but never catching.
"Motoko, wake up dear! Wake up!"
The seventeen years old Japanese girl rouse from her dream and found her aunt above her, tugging the sleeves of her pajamas.
"I'm coming aunt, thank you for waking me up," Motoko said stern looking. As her aunt left the room, she got to her feet and opened the clothes drawer. Every time she opened that drawer, she would find her mother's dress laid carefully hanged on a clothes hanger, wrapped in some plastic cover, neatly standing there. She had loved that dress even though she didn't like dresses that much. It was a dress that her mother had too loved very much when she was a young girl. The reason why Motoko had loved it so much was because it was the only possession that her mother had left behind before she left her.before she left her with her aunt in New York. Tears accumulated behind her eyes and she quickly shook herself out of the thought of her mother leaving her. She quickly grabbed her new school's uniform and put it on her strong built, although thin, body. Summer has just ended and so school was just starting. She turned to the mirror on the drawer door and stared at herself. Her reflection stared back with those deep dark eyes that seemed as if they could pierce into your thoughts. "How come I look so sad?" she wondered, "No wonder nobody wants to be around me. The kendo girl they would call me and snicker and run off once they saw me staring at them."
Motoko felt faint all of a sudden. She decided to sit back on her bed before she felt even dizzier, only finding herself falling onto her bed, knocking a picture frame off the table during the process. The frame landed conveniently right on her lap. Her hands touched the wetness of the tears she had cried last night on her pillow. She quickly pulled her hand away and stared at the picture. It was a picture of her family: her father, her mother and Tsuruko, her sister. Her father was a legendary kendo warrior. He had fought many battles with their family kendo sword, which had been passed down through many generations, and had came out of every battle as victor, all except for this one, last, battle. It was a legendary battle with the well-known kendo woman warrior, Hinkarina. It had been a good battle indeed. They had fought for 2 days and 2 nights without having a single scratch been laid on either person. They kept fighting and fighting until Hinkarina did her last move "Hiken Zakuusen" so powerfully that the tip of Motoko's father's blade snapped from the block of that strike. Her father had never fought another battle after that defeat. All those years after, he had been in search for a better sword to master his skills but all he had been doing was just looking and looking, but never finding that better sword. Soon he died due to exhaustion, looking for that better sword and Hinkarina was also never to be heard again after that battle. The spirits of both kendo warriors had withered.
Motoko turned her head to hide the tears from her father's sight even though he was just an image in a picture. Motoko didn't want her family to see her so weak; a kendo girl can't cry that easily! Motoko returned to look back at the picture, laying gaze at Tsuruko, her elder sister. "How old would she be now?" wondered Motoko as she stared at the younger version of her sister; Motoko was just a baby then. Her sister had run away from home to the news of her father's death. She had wanted to help her dad finish his mission in search of that better sword. The only impression that Tsuruko had left behind for Motoko remained with that very, and only, family photo. Then, Motoko laid eyes upon her mother's beautiful, although a little old, face. Her mother was indeed a very beautiful woman. Her large smiling eyes, the beautiful silky long hair, and her tall figure...(Motoko resembled her mother very much despite the smiling eyes) Motoko had loved her mother, but now she was angry with her, angry with her for leaving her like everyone else.
"Motoko, come down for breakfast!" Motoko's aunt called atop her lungs.
Disturbed by her aunt's call, she quickly shook herself out the sad thought, cried, "I hate you all!" and rushed out her bedroom door, slamming it on her way.
Motoko rushed dumbly down the stairs and found her spirit cheered by her aunt's cheery warm welcome. Motoko was grateful for her aunt for looking after her in New York. Her aunt resembled her mother with the large smiling eyes, but she was a little out of shape. She was rather chubby, but still beautiful for she had a kind and cheery face that always greeted you when you were feeling a little down. The breakfast table was already set with 3 nicely laid dishes of toasts with jam and sausages by the side. Motoko gave a weak smile to the sweet aroma of the delicious breakfast served before her and gave her aunt an acknowledgeable gaze.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go eat now!" her aunt said.
Motoko went over to the breakfast table, situated herself in one of the seats and quickly ate all the food on her plate.
"Thank you aunt, that was a delicious breakfast," thanked Motoko as she rushed out the front door with her school bag.
"Kids these days.. they eat too fast." chuckled Motoko's aunt as her husband just came out from his shower.
"Where's the food?" Motoko's uncle asked.
Motoko's aunt gave a deep sigh and said, "Is that always the first thing you say to me in the morning. Don't you have something else better to say like 'you look fantastic today' for a change?"
Motoko's uncle thought for a long while and finally coming up with an answer: "No," he said abruptly as he made way to the breakfast table.
The sun outside was shinning. The streets crowded with young teenagers making way to school. Elementary students were accompanied by their parents to elementary schools while teenagers like Motoko walked to secondary schools in groups of friends. Those who didn't walk in a gang had at least a friend walking by his or her side, all except for Motoko who always walked alone. The birds were chirping in the early New York sky, Motoko soon found sight of her school approaching nearer and nearer. She continued to walk ahead but was confused by a sight. A mysterious person was about her school's gate's corner, motioning for her to come forward. The figure was a girl with long hair she could see. She had the same deep eyes as Motoko and was wearing the same Japanese outfit she would wear at home: the white shirt with the large red pants. But there was something different about her with Motoko, she seemed.she seemed.somewhat.. sad with thoughts. She seemed as if though she was a person who knew too much and was just craving to tell her thoughts to someone.someone like Motoko. Motoko advanced her steps towards that figure. As she moved closer and closer she could see that she had some kind of bird sitting on her left shoulder, a large bird indeed. Motoko continued to move forward, faster and faster.
"Ahhh!!!" cried a young teenager boy who looked like he was in his early twenties as he crashed into Motoko. They both fell back hard onto the ground. Papers scattered everywhere. Seemingly what had happened was that the boy had been carrying a large stack of papers and was not looking where he was going and had crashed into an absent minded Motoko who was just moving towards a figure, having resemblance to her. Motoko shook her head to return to reality. One of the boy's papers laid exposed to Motoko's reach and she could faintly read out the name of the paper's owner.
"Urashima Keitaro."Motoko muttered beneath her breath. The paper she had been holding in her hand turned out to be a test result paper, which had a big, fat, red 0 percent marking right across the center of the paper. Motoko stared at it dumbfound, while holding back to urge of laughter. The boy, putting back on his dropped glasses, saw his test paper being exposed turned a deep scarlet and said, "I'm very sorry for bumping into you."
Motoko zoomed to reality and stared at the pretty cute looking face with the crooked glasses. She rose to her feet, only finding the boy to be a slight bit taller than she was. He had a rather stern build, bit his face still resembled that of a little kid.
"My name is Motoko Aoyama," Motoko said to Keitaro as she handed him back his test paper.
"I'm." Keitaro began before he was interrupted.
"I know who you are.Urashima Keitaro right?" Motoko gave a slight smile while Keitaro continued to blush. "That's the first time a girl has ever called my name so sweetly," he thought.
The school bell rang and it was soon time for Motoko to go to school.
"Oh you go to this school?" Keitaro asked, "I go to the study school behind your school! I'm trying to prepare myself for Toudai in Japan. It's a wonderful school I heard!"
But Motoko wasn't listening.she was staring at a kendo sword left behind where the strange figure had been standing and that sword's tip was cut off.!
********** So how do you like it? Please tell me how you feel because I am still thinking of whether I should continue on with this story.'cause I still have another story yet needed to be finished. Please give me your advice in reviews, good or bad, 'cause they are the fuel for my writing engine! Thank you for reading!!!
Love Hina AU: Katana Behind The Bleak
Chapter 1: Prologue-The Blurry Past
A dark shadow pursued her. She turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the dark figure. It was.. she couldn't make out who the shadowy figure was. Everywhere around her was dark. She could only sense the shadow's presence. She turned to run. Hot tears streamed her eyes. She could feel the pain aching from down her knees, stretching upwards to tear her spine apart. What was causing the pain? Then she felt the warm blood trickling down her back and slithering its way down her muscle-torn knees. The dark shadow continued to follow quicker.it was catching up. She started to run faster and faster, her heart pumping with the pace of each step. She looked ahead, and saw nothing ahead of her; pitch darkness. "How come I'm not running into anything?" she wondered. Within the period to that last thought, she crashed into something, something peculiar. It was as if she entered through a zone change. Everywhere around her seemed different. It felt like she was drowning in an ocean so deep, never ending. She tilted her weary head up and found a source of light drifting above the top of the surface. She reached her numb hands out, stretching to catch the light. Reaching and reaching.but never catching.
"Motoko, wake up dear! Wake up!"
The seventeen years old Japanese girl rouse from her dream and found her aunt above her, tugging the sleeves of her pajamas.
"I'm coming aunt, thank you for waking me up," Motoko said stern looking. As her aunt left the room, she got to her feet and opened the clothes drawer. Every time she opened that drawer, she would find her mother's dress laid carefully hanged on a clothes hanger, wrapped in some plastic cover, neatly standing there. She had loved that dress even though she didn't like dresses that much. It was a dress that her mother had too loved very much when she was a young girl. The reason why Motoko had loved it so much was because it was the only possession that her mother had left behind before she left her.before she left her with her aunt in New York. Tears accumulated behind her eyes and she quickly shook herself out of the thought of her mother leaving her. She quickly grabbed her new school's uniform and put it on her strong built, although thin, body. Summer has just ended and so school was just starting. She turned to the mirror on the drawer door and stared at herself. Her reflection stared back with those deep dark eyes that seemed as if they could pierce into your thoughts. "How come I look so sad?" she wondered, "No wonder nobody wants to be around me. The kendo girl they would call me and snicker and run off once they saw me staring at them."
Motoko felt faint all of a sudden. She decided to sit back on her bed before she felt even dizzier, only finding herself falling onto her bed, knocking a picture frame off the table during the process. The frame landed conveniently right on her lap. Her hands touched the wetness of the tears she had cried last night on her pillow. She quickly pulled her hand away and stared at the picture. It was a picture of her family: her father, her mother and Tsuruko, her sister. Her father was a legendary kendo warrior. He had fought many battles with their family kendo sword, which had been passed down through many generations, and had came out of every battle as victor, all except for this one, last, battle. It was a legendary battle with the well-known kendo woman warrior, Hinkarina. It had been a good battle indeed. They had fought for 2 days and 2 nights without having a single scratch been laid on either person. They kept fighting and fighting until Hinkarina did her last move "Hiken Zakuusen" so powerfully that the tip of Motoko's father's blade snapped from the block of that strike. Her father had never fought another battle after that defeat. All those years after, he had been in search for a better sword to master his skills but all he had been doing was just looking and looking, but never finding that better sword. Soon he died due to exhaustion, looking for that better sword and Hinkarina was also never to be heard again after that battle. The spirits of both kendo warriors had withered.
Motoko turned her head to hide the tears from her father's sight even though he was just an image in a picture. Motoko didn't want her family to see her so weak; a kendo girl can't cry that easily! Motoko returned to look back at the picture, laying gaze at Tsuruko, her elder sister. "How old would she be now?" wondered Motoko as she stared at the younger version of her sister; Motoko was just a baby then. Her sister had run away from home to the news of her father's death. She had wanted to help her dad finish his mission in search of that better sword. The only impression that Tsuruko had left behind for Motoko remained with that very, and only, family photo. Then, Motoko laid eyes upon her mother's beautiful, although a little old, face. Her mother was indeed a very beautiful woman. Her large smiling eyes, the beautiful silky long hair, and her tall figure...(Motoko resembled her mother very much despite the smiling eyes) Motoko had loved her mother, but now she was angry with her, angry with her for leaving her like everyone else.
"Motoko, come down for breakfast!" Motoko's aunt called atop her lungs.
Disturbed by her aunt's call, she quickly shook herself out the sad thought, cried, "I hate you all!" and rushed out her bedroom door, slamming it on her way.
Motoko rushed dumbly down the stairs and found her spirit cheered by her aunt's cheery warm welcome. Motoko was grateful for her aunt for looking after her in New York. Her aunt resembled her mother with the large smiling eyes, but she was a little out of shape. She was rather chubby, but still beautiful for she had a kind and cheery face that always greeted you when you were feeling a little down. The breakfast table was already set with 3 nicely laid dishes of toasts with jam and sausages by the side. Motoko gave a weak smile to the sweet aroma of the delicious breakfast served before her and gave her aunt an acknowledgeable gaze.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go eat now!" her aunt said.
Motoko went over to the breakfast table, situated herself in one of the seats and quickly ate all the food on her plate.
"Thank you aunt, that was a delicious breakfast," thanked Motoko as she rushed out the front door with her school bag.
"Kids these days.. they eat too fast." chuckled Motoko's aunt as her husband just came out from his shower.
"Where's the food?" Motoko's uncle asked.
Motoko's aunt gave a deep sigh and said, "Is that always the first thing you say to me in the morning. Don't you have something else better to say like 'you look fantastic today' for a change?"
Motoko's uncle thought for a long while and finally coming up with an answer: "No," he said abruptly as he made way to the breakfast table.
The sun outside was shinning. The streets crowded with young teenagers making way to school. Elementary students were accompanied by their parents to elementary schools while teenagers like Motoko walked to secondary schools in groups of friends. Those who didn't walk in a gang had at least a friend walking by his or her side, all except for Motoko who always walked alone. The birds were chirping in the early New York sky, Motoko soon found sight of her school approaching nearer and nearer. She continued to walk ahead but was confused by a sight. A mysterious person was about her school's gate's corner, motioning for her to come forward. The figure was a girl with long hair she could see. She had the same deep eyes as Motoko and was wearing the same Japanese outfit she would wear at home: the white shirt with the large red pants. But there was something different about her with Motoko, she seemed.she seemed.somewhat.. sad with thoughts. She seemed as if though she was a person who knew too much and was just craving to tell her thoughts to someone.someone like Motoko. Motoko advanced her steps towards that figure. As she moved closer and closer she could see that she had some kind of bird sitting on her left shoulder, a large bird indeed. Motoko continued to move forward, faster and faster.
"Ahhh!!!" cried a young teenager boy who looked like he was in his early twenties as he crashed into Motoko. They both fell back hard onto the ground. Papers scattered everywhere. Seemingly what had happened was that the boy had been carrying a large stack of papers and was not looking where he was going and had crashed into an absent minded Motoko who was just moving towards a figure, having resemblance to her. Motoko shook her head to return to reality. One of the boy's papers laid exposed to Motoko's reach and she could faintly read out the name of the paper's owner.
"Urashima Keitaro."Motoko muttered beneath her breath. The paper she had been holding in her hand turned out to be a test result paper, which had a big, fat, red 0 percent marking right across the center of the paper. Motoko stared at it dumbfound, while holding back to urge of laughter. The boy, putting back on his dropped glasses, saw his test paper being exposed turned a deep scarlet and said, "I'm very sorry for bumping into you."
Motoko zoomed to reality and stared at the pretty cute looking face with the crooked glasses. She rose to her feet, only finding the boy to be a slight bit taller than she was. He had a rather stern build, bit his face still resembled that of a little kid.
"My name is Motoko Aoyama," Motoko said to Keitaro as she handed him back his test paper.
"I'm." Keitaro began before he was interrupted.
"I know who you are.Urashima Keitaro right?" Motoko gave a slight smile while Keitaro continued to blush. "That's the first time a girl has ever called my name so sweetly," he thought.
The school bell rang and it was soon time for Motoko to go to school.
"Oh you go to this school?" Keitaro asked, "I go to the study school behind your school! I'm trying to prepare myself for Toudai in Japan. It's a wonderful school I heard!"
But Motoko wasn't listening.she was staring at a kendo sword left behind where the strange figure had been standing and that sword's tip was cut off.!
********** So how do you like it? Please tell me how you feel because I am still thinking of whether I should continue on with this story.'cause I still have another story yet needed to be finished. Please give me your advice in reviews, good or bad, 'cause they are the fuel for my writing engine! Thank you for reading!!!