All right! Time for the third installment! I'm discovering that writing involved fanfiction like this is actually harder than it seems... Also, my brainchild isn't getting as many hits, or at least reviews, as I'd hoped it would, so perhaps I'll change the summary to something a little more exciting... Anyways, again I need to say I don't own Love Hina and am not inventing a secret plot to do away with Ken Akamatsu and steal his wonderful work... steeples fingers and says "ex-cellent..." For something like the twentieth time, I need some good, constructive criticism people! Please, send me whatever you have to say, provided it's nothing too virulent and angry for my mistreatment of the characters and/or series. And, last but not least, thank you for taking the time to read my pitiful first work.

Thanks,

Vagonnoth

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Chapter 3: Reminiscence

Hinatasou, 4:46 A.M.

Breathing lightly, a figure in hakama and gi ran through the streets of Hinata by streetlight. As it passed under a light, it turned out to be Motoko, out on a morning run. She had been lax with her training of late and the news of Naru's death still made sleep elusive. So, she had woken up this morning well before anyone else in the dormitory and gone out in the hope that muscular fatigue would help drive away the gloom that hung over both her and the other residents.

As she quickly sped through another intersection, her thoughts turned to Keitaro. He still hadn't been able to come into Hinata House for a visit, though he had arrived three days ago. Shinobu, who had brought him dinner last night, and intended to every evening, said that he looked even more tired than when he had arrived,

Unthinkingly, she turned the corner that would lead her to his apartment.

Shinobu also said that when she had arrived, he had been breathing heavily and holding his shoulder. Worried, she had asked him what was wrong, but he just smiled at her and said that he had just been exercising and not to worry. Everyone had seen his condition and agreed it wasn't intelligent for him to be exercising at this point in his recovery, but there was nothing they could do for their former kanrinrin as long as he was staying in the apartment alone.

"Hai!" said a voice in front of Motoko, speaking clearly but quietly. Startled, she stopped and looked ahead, and saw that she had arrived at Keitaro's apartment, though she had not intended to run the route when she started off that morning. Wondering who would be up and about at this hour, she quieted her breathing and crept forward. Further noises came from the side of the apartment, and Motoko realized it sounded like someone performing some form of martial arts. Still cautious, she walked closer and looked around the corner. There, in the empty, grassy spot next to the apartment building was someone wearing a old t-shirt and jeans, punching and kicking into the air, punctuating his actions with soft hai's and sharp exhalations. As he turned, she caught a glimpse of his face and realized it was Keitaro.

Spellbound, she watched as he went through the motions of the art taught him by Seta, and realized just how good he was. And how weak, as well. He was breathing heavily and sweating, despite the mild autumn night air. Even as she watched, his movements grew slower and his breathing more labored. Her heart went out to him, and she wondered what could possibly make someone as ill as he clearly was practice so hard. Wanting to get him to stop, and to calm him, she began to take a step forward.

Suddenly, an image of Naru appeared in her mind. She should be here comforting him, not me... she thought. Caught by this image, she shook herself and turned sharply, preparing to leave, when the swishes of his movements suddenly stopped. After a moment's internal conflict, with her heart racing, she turned and looked back into the grassy area.

Keitaro was lying on the ground, clutching his chest, staring at it as though amazed. He tried to stand, staggered, and supported himself on a nearby tree. He turned, allowing the light to fall on him so he could see better. Motoko started and almost gasped as she saw the red stain growing on the right side of his shirt. Clutching his chest with one arm, supporting himself agains the side of the apartment with the other, he tried walking around to the stairs. Suddenly, his arm gave out and he fell over in the grass. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she ran out of concealment, calling to him.

"Urashima!" she cried, kneeling next to him. "What's wrong?" Struggling to rise, Keitaro looked up at her.

"Motoko-san... I think... I may have opened it again..." With these words and a smile, his eyes closed and he collapsed. Quickly, Motoko gathered up his unconscious form, focusing on the task at hand. Quickly, she carries him up the stairs to his room, noticing how light he was. Once in the room, she took off his shirt to inspect the damage. What she saw made her gasp. The bandage he wore over his chest was soaked through, as was the one on his left shoulder. Gently, she peeled off the bandages and saw the bullet wounds beneath. Immediately, she did a quick search of the apartment, finding a roll of bandages in the closet, evidently provided by the hospital. Returning to Keitaro, she did her best to bind his wounds tightly, seeking more to slow the flow of blood than anything. Then, knowing his apartment had no phone and that the doctor's was only a few blocks away, she ran out the door.

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Hinata Hospital, 11:56 A.M.

When Keitaro came to, he was lying in a hospital bed once more. For a moment, he was unsure as to whether he had ever actually been back to Hinata. However, when he looked across the room he saw Motoko, still with his blood on the sleeves of her gi, sleeping upright in a chair. His doubts erased, he smiled and closed his eyes once more.

Some hours later, he woke to find Motoko had left the room. After a few minutes, though, she returned trailing a nurse. They both looked surprised to see him awake, and he smiled. Motoko smiled back, though the nurse remained stern, approaching his bed almost angrily.

"Mr. Urashima," she said in an irritated voice, "I believe that when you were discharged from the hospital in..." She checked her clipboard, "Shinimalus, they warned you very firmly against any further strenuous exercise for a minimum period of six weeks?" Her tone suggested that it was less a belief than a certainty, and that she was reminding him of this.

"Y-yes, I'm sure they did," he answered, not that he had much choice.

"Well then, might I ask what you thought you were doing when you were, as the young lady said, practicing martial arts?" She asked, saying the words like they were a disease.

Looking away, Keitaro's expression grew far away, and faintly angry. "I'm sorry," he replied, "it won't happen again."

The nurse snorted, looking down at her clipboard again. "Look, Mr. Urashima, this is the second time this has happened, the first while you were still hospitalized in Shinimalus! I am telling you now, we will not allow any more of this to take place, now that you are within our care." She looked very agitated, and seemed as if she was going to say something more until Keitaro turned his head and looked directly at her. Still flustered, but unable to say anything in the face of his expression, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Keitaro sighed and rested his head back down on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. He heard a chair being pulled up, and looked over to see Motoko at his bedside.

She smiled. "The others have all been in to see you. I went up to the dormitory to let them all know what had happened after the local doctor and I dropped you off here," she told him. "They're all very concerned. I'm afraid Su, Shinobu, and the others will not be able to focus well at school today. Kitsune grew tired of waiting for you to regain consciousness, and besides, she still has much work to do in the teahouse. Kanako wanted to stay, but after the nurse caught her falling asleep on your bed, she was asked to go home. We all decided that there should be at least one person here in case you woke up, and I was the only one who has nothing to do here in Hinata, so here I am." She smiled again, almost apologetically.

Keitaro continued staring off into space for a while, and she let him have his peace. Finally, though, she couldn't wait any longer and she asked the question she had been waiting to ask the whole time Keitaro was unconscious.

"Urashima, why were you training so hard at that time of the morning when you were so weak? If I hadn't come along on my morning run, you might have had serious problems. What drove you to do such a thing?"

Keitaro continued to stare at the ceiling. After a few moments, when it seemed as though he wouldn't reply, Motoko got up, deciding to leave him alone. As she turned away, though, he spoke. She turned around, returned to her chair, and listened to him tell his story.

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The marriage had been wonderful, he told her. The periods of separation when he would go on digs were difficult, but sometimes the dig was near enough to civilization that she would be able to accompany him, and when she couldn't, he made a point of coming back for regular visits and finishing the expedition as quickly as possible. On one expedition, though, he was far away from civilization in a dangerous region of jungle, and he refused to let her accompany him. At first, things went well. They were well-funded, and the trip began on a good note, the team finding a number of statues clearly belonging to the phoenix-worshipping civilization that had lived in the area centuries ago. Then, one day, they had a visitor to their campsite.

That was his first encounter with Kurosawa.

The stranger had seemed interested in the work they were doing, he said. Who made the ruins? What were they like? What had the team found so far? The man seemed harmless enough, just another explorer passing through this relatively uncharted territory. He was very polite and seemed quite knowledgeable of the area. He stayed with them for a few days, and in the end decided to travel with them as they searched the area for more phoenix ruins. Little did he know that this was Kurosawa's original plan, no, his orders.

Over the next few days, they found several traces of the ancient civilization, but nothing significant. Finally, on the fourth day after Kurosawa had joined them, the seventh of the expedition, they found what appeared to be the remnants of a temple, have reclaimed by the jungle! Keitaro had been terribly excited, this being the largest and most important find yet.

The most intriguing thing about the phoenix civilization, gleaned from the few stone tablets that had been found in the jungles, was that they believed they had found a way for one to rise like their god, the phoenix, from the dead. Their temples, naturally, were the places where the ritual to do this had been accomplished, though the knowledge of just how to do it was said to be recorded only in the main temple of their religion, in their capital city, which no one had been able to locate.

Inside the temple they found little, most of the original content having been ransacked by looters years ago. This ruin was still relatively near the edge of the jungle, so it was fairly accessible to simple thieves willing to risk the occasional poisonous serpent or vicious booby trap in their quest for riches.

Still, within the ruins, they found two artifacts of significance, apparently left behind simply because the thieves didn't know their worth: a strangely shaped stone, carved with some indecipherable script over which was drawn the symbol of a phoenix rising, and a sacrificial knife of bone and granite. The knife was particularly significant, because granite was impossible to find on Shinimalus, which provided evidence for a trading society, rather than an isolated, minor civilization. If only he had known how much more valuable the stone was...

That night, Keitaro had woken sensing a problem. Things were too quiet. Picking up his whip and a pistol, he left his tent, creeping into the clearing that served as the center of the expedition's camp. Instantly, he realized that the fire had burned to just embers, which should not have happened with a man on watch. Walking to the next tent over, he nearly tripped over one of the other men, or what was left of him. His gun lay next to his hand, which was almost entirely severed from the arm. His throat had been slashed open, his eyes wide in disbelief and misted in death.

Suddenly sensing a spike of ki, Keitaro looked around. Then, he heard a choking noise from the anthropologist's tent. Rushing over, he reached it too late. Lying in his hammock, the scientist had his throat sliced as well, apparently through the mosquito net that surrounded his freshly dead form. Standing hunched over the late researcher's small, foldable table, a huge form rifled through his papers before stuffing them in a manila envelope and pushing them into a pocket in his trenchcoat. Turning, his face was illuminated by the light of the electric lantern, revealing him to be none other than Kurosawa.

Cursing, Keitaro held out the gun, aiming it directly at the man's heart. "What are you doing?" he spat, wishing he could simply kill the man where he stood. Kurosawa stood up, unfolding himself to his full height, which was barely accommodated by the small tent.

Smiling, he said, "Urashima, Mr. Expedition Leader, just the person I wanted... Tell me and things will go easier on you. What have you done with the artifacts from the temple?" He took a step towards Keitaro, evidently unconcerned by the gun.

"One more step and you're dead, Kurosawa!" Keitaro screamed back at him, "I have two good friends dead, and I don't have the patience for this crap. Why did you do it?"

Pausing in his step, Kurosawa looked at Keitaro for a moment. Then, he began to giggle. Suddenly, he broke into full blown maniacal laughter, throwing his head back as though he wanted it to travel as far as possible. Then he looked back down at Keitaro, expression serious, and asked him one more time. "Where are the artifacts?"

"You bastard," Keitaro answered, "you didn't come to my tent while I slept like the others, so unfortunately for you, you never got the artifacts. What is this, some competing expedition?" Pausing, he shook his head and said, "never mind, it doesn't matter anymore. This is the end of the line for you." Eyes narrowing, he fired.

And missed.

Eyes widening in horror, Keitaro watched Kurosawa's form blur as he feinted and threw himself forward and to the side. Keitaro squeezed off another shot before Kurosawa hit him. He had just enough time to wish he had grabbed his machete instead of his whip before the six-foot-eight monstrosity was in front of him. He felt a blow on the side of his head, and everything went black.

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When he woke, Keitaro first thought he was lying in his hammock back at camp. After a moment, though, it occurred to him that he was lying somewhat flatter than he would in a hammock, and that when he shifted there was none of the swaying he had grown accustomed to. Suddenly coming to full consciousness, he tried to get up. When he couldn't, he turned his head to see that the rope around his wrists was not that of a hammock, as he had previously assumed. He was lying on a small, rather uncomfortable army cot, his wrists and ankles bound to the frame. Twisting his hands and feet around, he quickly discovered that whoever had tied him down, they had probably earned all their knot-tying badges in boyscouts. Hell, he decided after a few more minutes of wriggling, they had probably taught the people handing out the damn badges.

As he struggled hopelessly with his bindings, he heard a female voice above him at the head of the cot speak. "That's going to get you nowhere fast, you know," the mystery voice informed him smugly in a light, European sounding accent he couldn't place. "Kurosawa is skilled at a lot of things, though, admittedly, most of them are related to violence..." The presumed woman that owned the voice sighed, as though this state of affairs was necessary, but still distasteful. "I really would like to untie you, you know, but I know that you'll try to escape, and Kurosawa has informed me that you seem to be somewhat skilled in the martial arts, so that could really provide us with too much difficulty to make it worth it. However, Kurosawa has also told me that you are a man of your word, and so I might be persuaded to let you up if you promise not to try to leave without my permission."

After a moment's internal debate, Keitaro realized he didn't really have much of an alternative and decided to acquiesce. "Very well," he said, "I promise not to leave without your permission. Now, will you please release me? I don't think it's good that my fingers are blue and I can't feel my feet." This last statement accompanied by a bitter tone.

Getting up, the woman circled around to the side of the cot and began to untie the ropes. "Really," she said in an exasperated tone of voice,"You'd think even someone as vicious as Kurosawa could understand the meaning of the words 'without unnecessary discomfort.'" Having released his left hand, she moved around the cot and began working on his right. "I do apologize for having to do this... I'm sure you can understand the necessity, though."

As the woman continued to talk pleasantly, Keitaro took the opportunity to observe his captor. Even though she was kneeling, he could easily tell she was taller than he was. She was very beautiful, with smooth, ivory skin and perfect nails that she somehow managed to keep from damaging as she untied the heavy ropes. As she stood up, he could see her dark hair cascaded down her back in waves, shining in the sunlight coming in through the tent flaps. She wore a forest green dress that seemed as out of place in the dim, dirty tent as a bird of paradise in the streets of downtown Tokyo. It glittered, and upon closer observation, Keitaro saw that it was studded with gems. She also wore a simple golden chain about her neck, on the end of which hung a diamond that might have bought a nice Lamborghini and maybe a few extras, such as a custom sound-system and ground effects.

By the time he had assimilated this information, the feeling was returning to his fingers and the woman had reached his left foot. Finally released, Keitaro attempted to stand, but discovered quickly that his feet weren't up to the task.

"You should take it easy," the woman said. "After all, you aren't going anywhere for a while, right?"

"Who are you?" Keitaro asked bluntly, "and why did you have to kill the other members of my team? You could have just taken the artifact and left." The anger burning in his eyes was unmistakable.

For a moment, the woman looked surprised, and then she sighed, shaking her head. "I should have known that was what Kurosawa meant when he said not to worry about your disappearance being reported... He does enjoy his work so much..." Looking up, she gave him a sad smile. "I'm terribly sorry that happened. I'll be sure to... discipline him. I know I didn't specify not to kill anyone in the orders, but we really do have to try harder to keep a low profile, and his actions just aren't helping that." Then she stopped, looking like she had just realized something. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I? My name is Anwen, Anwen Rhys," she said, the strange, foreign syllables falling easily into place with a musical lilt. "I'm what you might call the sponsor of our little group, the Heralds of the Truth."

For a moment, Keitaro was shocked that she could take the news of his friends' deaths so lightly. Then, realizing he wasn't going to get any emotional response from this person, he changed his question. "What was so important about the artifacts, then? Why did you need them so badly that you couldn't just borrow them or purchase them from our sponsor?"

Anwen smiled knowingly. "Ah, now that is an interesting story. Can you walk yet?" She reached out a hand to help him to his feet. Once the bewildered archeologist had made it onto his feet, she turned, leading him out into the sunlight. Stumbling on his still aching feet, he followed.

Once outside, Keitaro could see that this was no small jungle camp like the one he had come from. The space around them had been cleared very recently of foliage, and was filled with tents. Armed guards stood about, and a helicopter rested in its own open space off to the right. The center was dominated by a tent that looked more like a circus big top. It was this tent that they were heading towards, though Keitaro made a mental note of the helicopter's location, just in case.

"Here, you will see the fruits of our labors involving the phoenix religion," she announced, striding ahead into the well-lit tent. Inside was something that came as quite a shock to Keitaro, who had formerly thought himself one of the few academics who even knew of this idiosyncratic civilization.

Portable computer banks formed a central computational area, where a number of casually dressed individuals worked feverishly hunched over their monitors. Around the sides of the tent was a loose circle of tables at which more formal, labcoated individuals were carefully piecing together bits and pieces of artifacts and tablets. It was a full-scale research station in the middle of the jungle. Despite himself, Keitaro was impressed. As they approached the computer banks, Anwen began to explain.

"The Heralds of the Truth have long been interested in finding the truth of this world and the next and revealing it to the unwashed masses." She leaned over conspiratorially and said, in a lower voice, "frankly, I just needed a stooge organization, and these silly little religious terrorists were the most easily available." Once again shocked at her total lack of compassion, Keitaro missed a step, stumbled, and had to stagger quickly to catch up with her.

When he was once more walking unsteadily next to her, she gestured around the room. "Here, as I'm sure you can tell, we "process" collected artifacts, discarding what is too damaged to be used, and piecing together what we can." She shrugged, an indifferent motion. "That is the boring part. What I wanted to show you was this." By now they had reached the central computer banks.

"As I'm sure you know, the phoenix civilization was based around a religion that had claimed to find a way to bring certain fortunate people back, like the phoenix, from the dead. Most people put it down as folk lore, myth, legend. However, we have reason to believe it wasn't as far from the truth as it seems. Some years ago, I was researching ancient civilizations, and came across an obscure report on the phoenix religion written by a German explorer, Franz Mehlinger." She paused, glancing over at Keitaro as if to judge how much he knew about the subject. Not seeing any hint of recognition, she looked back to the computers and began once more to speak.

"As I perused his work, a photograph fell out of the pages. It was a picture of a tablet, similar in a way to the Rosetta stone, except that it was much smaller, and that the message on it was written in Pararakelsian, Sanscrit, and, most importantly, the unnamed language of the phoenix civilization. We call it Feuervogelian in honor of Mehlinger's own nationality, Vogelian for short. Anyways, because Mehlinger sadly passed away as a result of forgetting to check his boots one morning on his expedition, his remarkable finding never got published, and was simply stored away in the vault of the local university here on Shinimalus."

When I discovered this, I knew that my quest had begun." She stepped forward, pulling the spellbound Keitaro with her, and gestured to the computer screens. "As you can tell, the fragmentary message on Mehlinger's tablet was far to small to give an accurate idea of the language... and Pararakelsian is such a simple, underdeveloped language that it makes a poor source of information on structure, so we have been forced to use the latest computational algorithms to discover what these words on the temple artifacts mean. What we have been able to discover is remarkable." She turned fully and looked at him, a smug smile on her lips.

"It seems that the Freuervogelians," she said, savoring the word as though she enjoyed the sound of her own ingenuity, "had found a way to raise the dead! Though, not perfectly. Not all were able to complete the return, and those that could had only a limited time. One other thing still mystifies us, though. There is mention of something that makes this reincarnation a mere ghost of that of the phoenix... Some way in which it is inferior. Wherever we look, we read something about the phoenix taking something as a toll for a taste of its immortality. But what, we are unable to figure out. And how the return is inferior, we can't find either. Soon, though, we hope to have all the answers." She smiled, clearly proud of her achievements.

Keitaro was unable to help himself. He was terribly impressed by all this, the findings, the possibility of immortality... it was like an explorer's dream! As though sensing his thoughts, Anwen turned around. "I'm extending this offer to you simply because you seem one of the more knowledgeable people around on this particular subject, and you have a... knack for finding artifacts, especially of the kind we need." She smiled at him, trying to charm him. "I know that someone with your brain and... talent, wouldn't be able to pass this up. So... will you come with us? Will you help us find the secrets of the phoenix civilization?"

For a moment, Keitaro was tempted. Then a voice of reason sounded out in his mind: There's something she's not telling you. What makes this so important that she's willing to kill and steal to get it? This though stopped him cold, and he realized what a dangerous situation he was in once more. I have to get out of here... he thought. It should be fairly easy... but I can't break my word! Then, a thought struck him. He crossed his arms across his chest, stepping nearer to the computer. Then, he looked up at Anwen, not surprised to see a couple of rather heavyset men flanking her. They were dressed in labcoats, but Keitaro somehow doubted either one of them did much of the fine motor skills work that was occupying the other scientists. At least, not unless those ham-fingers were a lot more versatile than they looked. He looked up at Anwen, smiled and said "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't do that. I just can't work with a murderer. In fact, I think I'd like to escape now."

Anwen looked down at him and smiled. "And I think I'd like to see you do that," she said, not realizing she had just given him his permission. Normally, Keitaro wouldn't break his word on such a flimsy slip up, but he decided that the situation was such that he could ignore such niceties. Not even bothering to respond, knowing it would waste time, he picked up the keyboard from the desk next to him, ripping it out of the back of the computer and swinging it in an arc at the first goon's head. Knowing it wouldn't slow the thug down much, he reached down and in one fluid movement struck the man's wrist, forcing him to release the tazer he had been about to thrust at Keitaro. Catching the tazer, Keitaro wrapped the thug's arm behind his back, jabbed the tazer against his spine, and threw him forward into Anwen.

Or at least, where Anwen should have been.

Realizing she had disappeared, Keitaro turned to his left and saw her raising her hand as though to throw something. He saw a glint of steel in her hand. "All right, Urashima," she said in a calm, reassuring voice. "These darts have a nasty poison in them, and though it shouldn't kill you, you don't want me to have to use them... now, just put the tazer down..." She continued in that soothing voice of hers, telling him to simply give up.

Suddenly, her eyes flickered a little to Keitaro's right shoulder. Realizing what was happening, he feinted right, then stepped left as the second goon behind him lunged with his own stun device. In one fluid motion, Keitaro grabbed the now off-balance thug's left arm and swept him in front of him, just in time to intercept Anwen's darts. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, and one dart grazed his elbow. Thrusting the man at Anwen, he quickly turned and ran out to his right, grabbing another keyboard as he went. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Anwen lining up another shot. Spinning quickly, he held the keyboard out in front of him as she released, intercepting two darts. The third whizzed harmlessly past him and struck one of the scientists trying to cut off his escape route. Turning again, he blasted his way through the three remaining scientists in his way, ducking out under the edge of the tent and bursting into the clearing. The sentry at the edge of the jungle nearest him was caught completely off guard, expecting an attack from outside, not within. Keitaro dispatched him with the taser easily, fighting off a brief wave of dizziness as the poison that had entered him through his elbow reached the heart. Refusing to succumb, he rushed off into the jungle, bullets whizzing past him as he ran.

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The next week was one of the most enjoyable of his entire life. Full of attacks, battles, near-death encounters, and flat-out sprinting for his life through more unexplored territory than he could have possibly imagined existed on such a small island, Keitaro felt more alive than ever before. For some reason, he told Motoko, you're never as alive as when you almost aren't. He thought he was finally really getting a glimpse of the world through Seta's eyes. No wonder he was so happy when exploring! It was as though Keitaro's invulnerability was an indication that here was what he was supposed to be doing! This was how he was supposed to live his life!

Eventually, Keitaro escaped the jungle after a fateful encounter in which he tricked Kurosawa into a river of hungry crocodiles and destroyed the greater part of Anwen's organization. Upon his return, Naru first sent him into low earth orbit for being gone so long, then declared he was never going on an expedition without her again.

That was where the trouble started. Naru was, at heart, a city girl. When Keitaro went on a series of smaller expeditions to drum up enough interest to get a sponsor for his greatest expedition yet, a search for the great phoenix civilization citadel, she was true to her word and came. However, she didn't take well to the expedition life, and on more than one occasion left for a time to recover in the nearest bit of civilization to the dig.

Still, things went well, and Keitaro was able to get his sponsor and his expedition. However, as fate would have it, Anwen once more attacked his camp, this time with her new lackeys, the Bringers of Order. Evidently, they were trying to find the main citadel of the phoenix civilization, and they thought that Keitaro's expedition would have an idea of where it was. They did, but Keitaro was hardly going to give it up to them.

This time, Keitaro knew what to expect and escaped into the jungle with Naru. Again, the next week or so was full of thrills and excitement, but having Naru along often made things difficult. Whenever some part of her clothing got damaged on the long treks, she would bash him for looking, even if they knew there were enemies in the area. More than once this resulted in Keitaro having to dispatch more baddies than he thought could possibly exist until he wondered if he was eventually going to take out the entire organization just by defending himself and Naru. Also, Naru moved somewhat slower and less confidently than he did through the dense, trackless jungle.

In the end, this was their downfall. He described to Motoko their attempt to take refuge in the cavernous phoenix ruins they had found and their run in the darkness, during which he lost his gun and the information about the location of the phoenix citadel. He described the way Naru would accidentally trigger traps, or need help crossing the pits, and the terrible end result that this slowed pace had. Finally, he described his bizarre escape from the camp, still unsure as to what had happened. As his tale wound to a close Motoko, still staring at him raptly while caught up in this incredible story, began to realize it had gotten dark outside.

"In the end," Keitaro said, "I just wasn't able to protect her. Kurosawa was too fast, too strong... I was too weak..." He broke off, unable to continue, and Motoko realized why he had been struggling so hard to train, despite his injured state.

"You want revenge, don't you?" she asked quietly.

After a moment, Keitaro looked down away from the ceiling and stared into her face for the first time since beginning to speak. His eyes shone with tears, but his voice was firm as he said, "Yes."

Motoko looked back at him, moved by his story, feeling much closer to him now than ever before. After a solemn minute's silence, she stood up. "Rest well, Urashima. The better you rest, the sooner you will be discharged, and the sooner we will be able to train."

For a second, Keitaro just stared at her in disbelief. Then he smiled weakly and asked, "We?"

"Yes," she said, her smile widening. "I want to avenge Naru as well, so we are going to help one another train until we can each defeat that bastard Kurosawa one-handed."

Again, Keitaro seemed at a loss for words. Then, tears rising once more to his eyes, he whispered, "Thank you," and laid his head back down onto the pillow. He then closed his eyes, and soon Motoko could tell by his steady breathing that he had fallen asleep. Turning, she walked out the door, closing it quietly after her and turning off the lights.

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Whew! Long chapter. Much longer than I expected it to be. Hope nobody minds! Yes, I know there's no one other than Motoko in this chapter... and yes, that does mean this is going to be a Keitaro x Motoko fic. I'm trying to decide whether I oughta add that into the title... It might give things away a little, but it might also attract more readers. Anyways, now that we've arrived at the third installment, and I"m beginning to get a couple of readers, I'd like to thank those that have reviewed. Support and criticism are both appreciated, and really, without either I'm not sure I would keep this thing going. It's turning into a really hefty beast of a fic ; Anyways, I hope old readers keep reading, and new readers enjoy and review!

Thank you all,

Vagonnoth

P.S. In case you didn't catch it from earlier chapters, my email address is vagonnoth at hotmail dot com (does anyone know why stupid quick edit has been doing this? It just creates a blank when I write the whole address, like If anyone knows why, please tell me!)