Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina, so don't sue me. Simple, brief, and to the point. So there. Bleh, I hate being sick... I also hate that school has kept me from writing this for so long. But I'll get to that in the little post-chapter section. So, until then, enjoy the latest and greatest installment of my revamped, slightly edited, hopefully better written, and long delayed story.

Disclaimer Part Two: Okay, time to finish this chapter. Frankly, it has now been... oh god, at least six months since I wrote the first installments. But now I'm back! Yay! urm... yeah... And then the robot started dancing... Aaaanyways, sorry to keep anyone who actually read this P.O.S waiting, but I really do plan on finishing this now. (As I continue to ignore the stack of econ homework looming behind me) So, um, enjoy, I guess! . ;

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 4: Training

Hinatasou, Two weeks after Keitaro's hospitalization, 12:21 P.M.

As he climbed the stairs to the building partially supported by Motoko, Keitaro thought back to what she had told him the second day of his hospitalization.

"I've told everyone that you reopened the wounds when you slid in the morning dew and tried to catch yourself on the side of the house," she had said. "I also told them that you were just trying to keep limber and in shape with a little light exercise. I didn't tell them how hard you were working, and I don't think you should either." she told him. "Why have them worry?"

As much as he hated lying, Keitaro had to agree. Besides, if any of the tenants knew about his new goal, he would never be allowed to train himself; there's no way they'd let him risk his life again trying to track Kurosawa down. As it was, he was fortunate to have Motoko, who at least understood him in this.

As they reached the top of the stairs, he forced himself to set aside his ruminations. Everyone was waiting, Shinobu, Su, Sara, and Ema having skipped school again. I've got to get them to stop doing that... thought Keitaro, even as Su and Sara tried tackling him and were physically restrained by the rest of the household. I'd hate to see them start getting bad grades because of me.

He found himself swept inside quickly and made to lie down on the couch, which he had to admit he'd missed. He'd missed the whole house, in fact. Everyone had been so glad when he'd said he thought he could return. As Shinobu hurried off to whip up something for lunch, and everyone else did their best to make him comfortable, he found himself smiling for the first time in what felt like ages. Even as he allowed himself to sink back into the welcoming warm noise and bustle that was his home, he found himself thinking how perfect it would be if only Naru were here...

Tears welling up in his eyes, lying in the heart of the family that was Hinatasou, blissfully unaware of everyone's desperate attempts to remove Kanako from the room and let him sleep, Keitaro sank into the dreamless slumber of the wounded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hinatasou, The same day, 7:49 P.M.

After the long, cautiously optimistic welcome back party, Keitaro made his way to his old room. Kitsune had returned to her room, drunk, which everyone informed him was better than her recent tendency towards drinking herself into total oblivion without even leaving the dinner table. Shinobu was busy cleaning up, Su, Sara, and Ema were off preparing some kind of mischief together, Kanako had excused herself some time earlier claiming a need to clean up a bit since Kitsune was useless, Mutsumi had gone out to the hotsprings, Motoko was out on an evening run... So Keitaro had decided not to bother anyone. He knew he had to face this one on his own anyways. He continued down the hall, wondering if he'd be able to stay there alone that night. This was the part of his return he'd been dreading the most. Reaching the door, he paused a moment, bracing himself for what he knew would be a painful reminder of better days. Then he opened it, took a deep breath, wincing at the mild pain in his chest, and stepped inside.

Inside, it was just as he'd feared: everything was exactly the way it was before, down to the hole in the ceiling, by far the most terrible reminder of Naru's absence. A pain stabbed at him that had nothing to do with his injuries as he stood there in the middle of the floor staring up at the jagged gap in the smooth boards of the ceiling. He turned to leave, but suddenly realized the exertion of the party and the emotional trauma had been too much for him and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

A half an hour later Motoko, back from her run and on the way to her room, found him lying there. He clearly hadn't had the strength to get up, and had fallen asleep again, curled up without a futon. Pitying him, she entered and got out a pillow and blanket. As she bent to cover him, though, he reached out and grasped her wrist, his eyes opening and staring up at her.

"Take me out of here..." he whispered, his eyes red but dry.

She paused a moment, considering what to do. She really thought that his recovery would go faster if he stayed here where everyone could help him and keep him from overexerting himself. On the other hand, it must be terrible for him to have constant reminders of Naru around him.

"But..." she trailed off, searching for something to say. "You've been dealing with it so well. And it will be much harder to train together if you live in that apartment..."

He stared for a bit, then nodded slowly, gradually releasing his grip. He started to get up, and Motoko hastened to help him. When he was up, without a word, he went over to get his futon out. With Motoko helping him, he quickly got it set up and ready for the night. Once they had it out on the floor, Motoko said good night and started for the door. As she reached the door, though, she heard a thud behind her. Whirling around, she saw that Keitaro had fallen over again, and was crying silently, his tears staining the sheets.

Rushing back to his side, she kneeled next to him. His eyes closed, he whispered something. Straining to hear, Motoko leaned closer.

"Would you... stay with me?" he asked. "Like you did... in the hospital?" His words were barely audible, but his pain was clear. Motoko stopped to consider. If Kanako or anyone else found out... she quickly shook her head to get rid of the mental images of crucifixion and other unpleasant means of death. Still, how could she deny him this small kindness when he had been through so much?

"Of course I will," she replied, "if you're sure you wouldn't rather have someone else, perhaps Kanako stay with you..." She trailed off as a bitter, half-smile appeared on his face.

Lifting his head and opening his eyes, he said, "I don't want to be a burden on the students, and as for Kitsune and Kanako... well, I don't think either of them would give me a whole lot of sleep, either through drunkenness or..." He trailed off, the color rising to his face, not needing to explain since Motoko knew full well what he meant.

"All right," she said. "Just let me bathe and get my things. I will return, so just wait here, ok?" She smiled encouragingly at him, and was rewarded with a faint, sickly echo of it cast back at her.

"I'm not going anywhere," Keitaro said, lowering his head once more onto the pillow. Motoko hurried out of the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was another two weeks before Motoko allowed Keitaro to begin working out again, a time that Keitaro seriously begrudged her. Even then, she began him on a light regimen, forcing him to pace himself in his efforts. He recovered quickly, though, and as time went on, he grew strong enough to begin sparring with Motoko.

He also found each day easier to live in Hinatasou. Once his training began, he was so exhausted at night that he no longer needed someone there for him to sleep, and after a few months he found himself returning to some semblance of normality in his daily life. Everyone else saw this, and things quickly returned more or less to normal, though Kitsune was a little grimmer than before. Still, even she warmed up as Su and Sara returned to their pranks, joined reluctantly by Ema, and Kanako returned to her attempts to seduce her half-brother.

Despite all of this, though, Keitaro kept Naru and Kurosawa always at the back of his thoughts, refusing to let either of them go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hinatasou, Early Spring, 4:02 P.M.

The sun shone brightly on the two combatants below, mingling with the unseasonably warm breeze to give a hint of the coming spring. Cheers echoed around the back of Hinatasou as Keitaro and Motoko sparred to the cheers and jeers of the other house occupants, who were seated safely up on the roof watching the battle. Things having returned much to normal, just about everyone was cheering for Motoko.

"Bash the dork!" screamed Sara, jumping up and down as Keitaro quickly sidestepped one of Motoko's downward swings. She was using a practice sword, but Keitaro had so far refused to use a weapon, saying he wanted to get all his strength and skill back the way Seta had taught him. Unfortunately, Seta and Haruka had left shortly after Keitaro began to settle back into life at Hinatasou, saying they needed to get back to the dig. Keitaro could hardly keep them there, so he reluctantly said goodbye and asked only that they visit again some time in the future.

Kanako, who until now had been training with them as well, watched from the sidelines. Keitaro had defeated her in hand-to-hand combat some time earlier, a monumentous event, and now she watched to see how the kendoist fared against her almost recovered big brother. As she watched their movements, she could see the outcome of the match, and a smug expression gradually formed on her face.

"Yeeeahhhh! C'mon girl, you almost had him that time!" shouted Kitsune, a little tipsy as always. Below, Motoko had just missed Keitaro with a ki blast that took out a small boulder as he leaped away. Suddenly, in a series of movements so fast they were just a blur to those above, the two charged at each other, Keitaro dodging several lightning fast swings from Motoko and coming up inside her blade's reach, fist extended an inch away from her throat. As Kanako had predicted, the kendo girl wouldn't prover herself superior by defeating Keitaro. Amidst the halfhearted groans of the tenants, minus Shinobu who was shouting out a barely audible congratulations, the two fighters relaxed, stepped back, and bowed with broad grins on both their faces.

"Well, I'd say you're back to where you were," observed Motoko. "That's the first time anyone other than Seta has beaten me. I'm not sure if I should feel humiliated or proud," she said, smiling.

Keitaro laughed, a real laugh that everyone had been glad to see him recover in the past months. "I suppose so, but since it's really thanks to you, you should be proud!" Leaning closer, he said quietly, "If it hadn't been for you, I would have started training too early and ripped my wounds open again... And, of course, I would never have found such an excellent sparring partner."

"Shut the flattering," the swordswoman said, whacking him lightly across the back of the head even as she fought to hide the blush of pleasure spreading across her features. "So, will you pick up a weapon now? I doubt you'll be able to compete with a gun barehanded," she pointed out.

Suddenly more serious, Keitaro replied, "yes, I will have to start training with weapons... but I don't know anything outside of martial arts. That's all Seta got around to teaching me. I've got to admit, it's a bit embarassing..." He trailed off, sweatdropping and scratching his head. Suddenly, he looked up into Motoko's face. "Would you be willing to teach me?" he asked. "I know it's a bit much to ask, but I don't know where else I'm going to learn anything other than martial arts... and I know you can fight with more than a sword, I saw you fight Seta with a polearm during the play that summer." He paused a moment, savoring the memory, then suddenly aquiring a neutral expression. Motoko knew it well by now, and knew that it signified that his thoughts were back at Naru. The blush she had been having such trouble with quickly faded as her face took on a more somber expression.

"Of course I'll teach you," she said. "But now if you'll excuse me, I really need to take a bath. We'll start talking about weapons training tonight." She quickly walked away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Some time later, soaking comfortably in the hot springs, Motoko found herself lost in thought. Fortunately, she was alone, the others having various duties and tasks of their own and, of course, having relatively-back-to-normal Keitaro there to entertain them. She looked to the sky and sank down until only her head was left above the surface, wreathed in the steam rising from the water. It had been some time since she and Keitaro had begun training together, and she was glad to see him feeling happy once more. So why this slight unease she felt from time to time...?

Shaking her head, she sat up once more. Never mind that, she thought. I'm probably just tired from training with him so much lately... he really has gotten quite good. Now... what weapon to teach him... she was skilled in the use of a few, having trained extensively in her youth, but it was difficult to make a decision without the presence of the one she was choosing for. We'll go down to that small armory below the inn tonight and select something, she decided. Satisfied, she laid her head back and enjoyed the bath, brushing away this strange small emptiness that kept appearing from time to time in the pit of her stomach.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the inn...

"Mecha Tamago XXVII, GO!" screamed a hyperactive voice.

Keitaro, hearing the once more familiar cry, threw himself to the side as an explosion struck where he had been innocently walking moments before and a sharp gust of wind announced the passing of something easily exceeding the speed limit on any roads aside from the autobahn. Su had once tried out a Tamago that exceeded the sound barrier, but after all the windows in the western wing of the house shattered, she was thoroughly forbidden from ever doing anything like that again.

Spinning around, the poor kanrinrin looked about for a sign of the gigantic, mechanical, monstrous imitation of all things chelonian that he knew to be after him. Instead, he saw Su standing with a controller in her hands, grinning like the proverbial shark. Hoping to cut off his torment at its source, Keitaro lunged for the controller. For the thousandth time, though, he found himself grabbing air as Su leaped over his head.

How does she manage to jump like that... was Keitaro's last thought before a large, metallic object sent him bouncing down the hallway. Rolling and gaining his feet again, Keitaro made a break for the nearest exit, hoping to stop the thing outside. Too late, he reached a door just as the sound of a roaring engine fueled by God-knows-what began approaching again. Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Keitaro didn't see the rope that suddenly spun out of nowhere, wrapping itself around the automaton's left fin and spinning it around in a circle, releasing it to fly back directly into Su, who was too surprised to dodge.

"Onii-chan!" cried Kanako, tackling her older brother, hugging him fiercely enough to crack a few ribs. "You should be more careful around these crazy girls," she admonished, looking up at him with eyes that made him seriously consider taking her advice and running away from her. She lowered her head and began nuzzling his chest, saying quietly, "I won't let anyone hurt you, Onii-chan... just stay near me."

Looking up once more, she noticed him staring over her shoulder, just in time for her to let go of him as a series of metal arms shot out and wrapped around here, dragging her down the hallway. "You little...! Stay away from my Onii-chan!" she screamed furiously, wriggling in an attempt to break free of the metallic embrace that kept her from going to her brother's aid. Meanwhile, Su was bounding over her ensnared form towards Keitaro, who was busily trying to get out of the door that seemed to have, unfortunately, been blocked from the outside.

"Awww, come here Keitaro!" shouted Su, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his neck. She leaned over and looked down at his face. "You've gotta help me out with my experiments!" she exclaimed, giving the last word a suggestive tone that made him remember how old she was now. She jumped off the stunned martial-artist and began dragging him back down the hall. It was at this point, though, that she turned around to see her mechanical arms lying limp on the floor, Kanako having escaped their grasp and vanished. Suddenly, Keitaro found himself freed as Kanako sped out of the shadows on the ceiling to strike at the psycho little scientist. As the two began duking it out, Keitaro frantically fled, ducking into the kitchen for a quick escape.

Slightly out of breath, Keitaro sagged against the countertop, only to find Shinobu there, smiling at him. "Hello, Sempai. You look tired. Would you like to help me prepare dinner? The others probably won't look in here." Glad to find someone who appreciated the problems he was having, Keitaro gladly agreed to help. After a minute or two, though, he realized that every time she moved, Shinobu kept somehow winding up a little closer to him. Eventually she was virtually snuggling into him, and though he'd like to think it was accidental, the light flush in her cheeks told him it wasn't.

"Um, Shinobu? I, uh, I just remembered, I have some cleaning up to do elsewhere..." stammered Keitaro, trying to find a way out of this uncomfortable situation.

"Auuu, Sempai, can't you just stay a bit longer? You wouldn't want me to do all this by myself, would you?" Shinobu exclaimed, turning quickly and leaning into him, her hands against his chest. "For me? Please...?" She looked up at him with puppydog eyes, but he was already backing away to the door.

"Um, uh, I'm sorry Shinobu. Uh, maybe another time... Bye!" He spun around and bolted off to his room, hoping to lock himself in and escape all the attention that had been thrown his way lately.

Things were definitely back to normal.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Or perhaps not quite.

Upon reaching his room, the smile Keitaro had been wearing all day gradually faded from his face. He flopped down onto his futon and stared at the weave of his pillowcase for a long time. Though he was dry-eyed, his tears having been shed some time ago, his heart still felt as though it were made of lead as he thought of a name, and the person that would have sent him into low Earth orbit for being "perverted" with the girls that had been tormenting him all day...

Naru...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hinatasou, Same Day, 8:14 P.M.

Down in the ancient armory under the Hinatasou, Motoko and Keitaro perused the shadowy rows of weapons and armor, trying to find something that would suit the martial artist. This part of the house had existed since before the means of generating electric light had come to the land of the rising sun, so the two were making their way by light of two electric lanterns, which cast eerie shadows about the dungeon-like room. Swords, spears, Shaolin spades, bows, staves, and all kinds of other, more exotic weapons loomed in the dim room, glinting darkly beside suits of samurai armor and joining together to fill the space with a smell of oil, dust, and age. Precisely how all of these things hadn't dissolved into rust long ago, Keitaro was unsure of. No one ever came down here to maintain things, but every blade was gleaming and polished like it had been made the day before, and their edges, as Motoko discovered by testing a spearhead with her finger, were sharp enough to merit the invention of a new word to describe their cutting ability.

After a few minutes in the dead air in these catacombs, one of them finally spoke, breaking the silence of ages.

"See anything you like?" Motoko asked cheerfully, her words sounding hollow to her own ears and loud in the silence, as though the place was rebuking her for her lack of solemnity. Her best attempt at levity failed, she lowered her voice and spoke quietly. "Everything down here appears to be in superb condition," she said, unconsciously holding her still-bleeding finger, "it's all down to what you feel is right for you."

Keitaro, saying nothing, nodded and looked about. He picked up a sword or two, drew them, looked at them. Nothing seemed to interest him especially. Motoko watched silently as he meandered over to a rack of polearms, pulling one or two off of it, feeling their heft and balance, waving them about aimlessly. Just as Motoko was about to come over and help, perhaps bring a few items to his attention, he looked up quickly, turning his head towards a particularly darkened corner of the room. Acting as though he was being called, he moved off into the dark. It seemed to Motoko that his lantern flickered and dimmed a little as he approached a nook over there, but she decided it was just her imagination. She walked over to join him, and saw that he had found a staff, kept apart from any other items by a few feet of space. As he set his lantern down and picked up the staff, his lantern seemed to return to its normal intensity. Keitaro turned to her, holding the staff as though he had used one every day of his life, presenting it to her for inspection.

As she bent over it, she recalled the lantern's strange behavior, and decided not to take any chances. She lifted the staff out of his grasp, closed her eyes, and began to carefully probe it with her ki. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She opened her eyes in shock. There was no such thing, in her experience, as a weapon without its own force, its own feeling. Weapons picked up something of their user's intent and the things they have been wielded to do, giving them a personality of their own over time. Even a new, unused weapon will have some heart of its own, beaten or carved into it by its creator. This staff, though, held nothing. She looked closer.

At first glance, it seemed to be a very ordinary weapon. Polished wooden shaft, slightly tapered ends, capable of dealing a nasty blow but nothing more unique than that. True, she was unable to identify the wood it was made out of, and it seemed somehow to be reinforced. She turned to a nearby case holding short swords, took one, and made a light chop at the staff. There was a sharp ringing sound, but the staff was intact without so much as a scratch. Puzzled, Motoko swung the short sword harder, and then with her full force behind it. This last time, the short sword shuddered down to the hilt and when she inspected its edge, there was a chip. Again, though, the staff was undamaged.

The staff's invincibility seemed, in a strange way, to mimic Keitaro's. Smiling at the little joke of fate, Motoko turned back to Keitaro and went to hand him the staff again. But as she shrugged and looked away from the staff, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Again, she looked at the weapon, staring intensely at it, trying to see what could have grabbed her attention so, but the staff lay there in her hands, innocently. No, not innocently, she realized. For all that it had no energy, this staff was more alive than any weapon she had ever seen. It appeared to be... brooding. No, not even that. Sulking, perhaps? She looked up at Keitaro once again, and once again caught a flicker of movement. This time, she froze, slowly letting her gaze drift around so that the staff was just at the periphery of her vision. It was hard to be sure, but something on its surface seemed to be flowing. It was a smooth, gentle motion, almost like a river. But if it was a river, it was a dark river at midnight during a new moon with a cloudy sky. It was an underground river, rippling its way along in its own time until, suddenly, the ground above it caved in, its support being worn away by years of water flowing.

She looked up and handed it back to Keitaro, who by now was wondering at her strange behavior, and tried to figure out why such an enigmatic thing would call to him. But when he looked at her questioningly and asked in a low voice, "is it all right?" She just nodded, and led the way back out of the armory. Motoko made a mental note to ask Haruka about the staff later, but until then she saw no harm in allowing Keitaro to use it. Together, they reentered the house and closed and locked the door to the armory behind them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All right, and there's the end of the fourth installment. I thought I should lighten the mood a little, though the story as a whole is still probably going to be pretty serious. Again, I have the creeping feeling that this is going to become quite the little epic, and I also suspect it's going to eat up a lot more of my time than I thought it would when I first started writing. The second half of this chapter alone has taken me the last hour and a half! I fully intend to stand by my promise to finish this thing, but my updates may be a bit sporadic as I try and finish up all my committments at the end of senior year, here. Good news is that I think I'm done with service hours for NHS! XD haha, yeah, anyways, if you enjoyed my little fiction, please review. Hell, if you didn't like it, please review as well. I can always use a bit of helpful criticism. Just don't give me something like "this blows!" or "ZOMFG, you killed Naru! DIE DIE DIE!" without supporting your opinion, k? I've been flamed enough at other sites that I just don't have the patience for that. All right, it's good to be back from hiatus, and I look forward to reading your reviews! Thanks to all who support me in my endeavors. Cheers!

P.S. Anyone who emailed me before, sorry but I didn't log into my hotmail account for so long that it deactivated... --; It should be up and active now, though, so feel free to send me... well, anything, I guess. Oh, and finally, I may go back and revise my first three chapters later, but for now I think I'll just focus on finishing up the story.