Chapter 12

Preparation

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Also, please check out my other stories. I try to keep a constant level of dedication to all of them.

Special thanks to Howard Russell for the main conflict idea and the pre-reading.

Words done in bold like this are the spoken words of the Hina sword.

Words like this are for the sword's inner monologue.

Once again, as she had done for the last few mornings, Motoko opened her eyes, still not quite used to the sight before her.

Little Su was curled up beside Keitaro, her arms wrapped lightly around his waist, not putting her usual show of strength on the usually bruised manager; a small smile on her face.

No nightmares last night for her. I guess she is finally finding some peace.

Keitaro—her husband, a thought still hard for her to get used to—also had one arm around Su, pulling the child into a warm, fatherly embrace. He had no expression on his face, a neutral appearance. It was obvious his mind was still deep in the embrace of dreams.

She found no desire to wake him, or even head to the roof and practice. They would need all of their energy for the fight later that day with Tsuruko when she arrived.

We'll have to be careful. Tsuruko will be in top form to try and defeat us once again.

I almost shudder to think what this defeat will cost us.

She slid closer to the two, placing her arm around Su until her hand landed on Keitaro, before once again trying to embrace sleep.

For a few moments more, she would enjoy what her life was like; enjoy the peace, the quiet…

The love?

Tsuruko tried to force her world to stay still as she slowly made her way to the bathroom to once again make an offering to the porcelain god. There was no absolutely no doubt in her mind that she may have overdone it last night.

Damn Hina, she was there all the time, holding my hair and smiling, calling me a light-weight!

Most people would assume Tsuruko was a kind, almost blissfully ignorant person.

While she was not blissfully ignorant, she was often kind.

Unless of course, two things happened: you either lied to her, or she had a hangover.

And right now, she had a hangover from hell.

"Went a little overboard last night, did you, dear?"

"ROCK SPLITTING TECHNIQUE!" Tsuruko, finally having enough of the patronizing old codger, released a powerful technique that unknowingly, had been used against Urashimas for about over a year now.

But when the dust cleared, Hina was standing there, a path of destruction cut around her, but not where she was standing. "Oh dear, it seems you must be getting your constitution back. Perhaps you would like a nice breakfast before the train ride to face my grandson. Perhaps some eggs, squid, crème corn, a nice… Where are you going? Was it something I said?"

The old woman continued to laugh as Tsuruko once again ran to the toilet to make another offering. Too easy.

The happy couple was walking to the blacksmith, Motoko still left in the dark about where they were going. There was no school today, but she did wonder where they were headed. She had figured they would spend the day training with the Hina Sword, if for nothing else then to spar in the dreamscape.

But he had taken her out after breakfast, saying he had something important to show her.

Even Mitsune's early comment about him finally taking the initiative to show her "that" wasn't going to dampen her spirits. She had grown close enough to him these last few days and beyond her own self delusions about males to know he wouldn't do that.

They weren't ready for that.

She wasn't ready for that.

It was a mild walk before they came to a destination. Keitaro asked her to hold back a bit, and went to knock on the door, to be answered by a large man.

She watched as Keitaro talked to the guy; a blacksmith by his outfit but also the equipment lying around. She had no idea why he had brought her here. Today, while there was no school, they had the more important task of preparing to face her sister yet again. True, they had many new tactics to use against her, and the practicing in the dreamscape had helped hone those new styles together with their fighting spirit. She was certain that this time, they would be prepared for any of her sister's moves.

But she was still worried. The Hina Blade had been quite adamant about what knowledge she could get from the saved reflection of her sister. She knew the sword was hiding something about it, but was unsure how she might go about getting at that tidbit.

"Here ya go, folks. Like I said, completely repaired, some of my best work if I might say so."

Motoko turned to the blacksmith, her eyes widening and her mouth opening. It…it can't be!

Before her, the blacksmith was handing Keitaro her old sword—the very sword her sister had destroyed when they fought in the hot springs. "Here," he said, presenting her blade to her. "If we are to battle today, my wife, you will need your weapon."

Motoko held the sword in her hands, looking over at Keitaro, conscious and rational thoughts coming in slow spurts to her mind. "What…how…why?"

Keitaro just smiled. "You needed your sword back; you needed the symbol of your old self by your side. Besides, Grandma Hina gave me the money to do it when I told her what I needed, and you can't face your sister unarmed, despite what training we've gotten. Go on, give it a try." He moved off to the side, arms held wide. "Perverted ronin, 1200 points."

Motoko withdrew the sword, giving it a few test swings to see how much the balance had shifted. "It…it's perfect."

"Of course!" proclaimed the blacksmith. "I don't do faulty work. I must say that the repair work on that sword is only second to my ancestor who crafted it. I have strengthened the blade to the point where it can withstand three times whatever cut it to begin with. The balance is the same, and I have managed to sharpen the blade so that it will be able to cut through reinforced steel like butter."

Motoko could only place the sword back into its sheath, before turning to her husband. His smile was still beaming at her, showing the joy he was receiving from giving her that gift.

The blacksmith could only look on with a smile himself as the woman jumped the man, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Ah, young love. He put his tools down and left. They'll learn. I give them a week before she tries to kill him, just like my Mia did to me.

Ah, good times…good times.

They arrived back at Hinatasou, the morning still fresh. They had been holding each other's hand while walking back from the blacksmith, Motoko's other hand still on her repaired sword, his in his pocket. While the training had brought them closer, it was still slow going for any feelings to emerge beyond a few kisses and hand holding. The only reason she had been comfortable in the same bed as him had been because a third party was present.

But what she wasn't prepared for were her three friends—the Motoko Cheering Squad—to be standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Motoko released Keitaro's hand. He was slightly confused until he saw the girls. It wasn't hard for him to remember the first time he had seen them. After all, Keitaro Urashima knew every girl involved in whatever lead to a beating. "Um, do you want me to head upstairs while you talk with your friends, Motoko?"

Motoko let out a short breath. Her friends had tried to speak to her when she was at school yesterday after the rumor she had been married started to spread. Can't exactly call it a rumor when the homeroom teacher calls you by your new last name. She had been hoping to delay this meeting, not looking forward to informing her anti-male group that not only was she now married before graduating, but that she actually enjoyed spending time with her husband, and on some level, loved him. But they at least waited until Keitaro had made it past them and was safely out of hearing range.

"Sempai, please say it isn't so?" asked Sakura.

"Sempai, you didn't marry that perverted ronin, did you?" asked Ami.

"Tell us what he has on you, Sempai, so that we may vanquish his perverted hide from your eyes!" yelled Yuka.

She merely held up her hand. "I will tell you all. My sister arrived early to take me back to inherit the school, but I found myself…unable to admit that I was not ready to assume my role. Instead of telling my sister the truth, I lied to her. When she caught me, I was banished from the school. That man you call pervert, rescued me from my depression and convinced me that my true self would never have accepted such banishment. Even injured, he went with me to challenge my sister to be allowed back into my school. My sister, however, put a marriage to him as price of failure."

Yuka quickly raised her hand to her mouth. "Sempai…you lost?"

Motoko nodded her head. "My sister was much better than I in skills and tactics. Of this, I have told each of you countless times. I was exhausted, drained of all energy, and I yielded after I witnessed him still fighting. He couldn't stand, couldn't even fight or defend himself, and still he fought for me. So be careful who you call a pervert, for he is anything but."

"But Sempai," Sakura interrupted, "you have always told us all males are perverts."

Ami joined in. "That's right. Are you saying this male isn't a pervert?"

Yuka just shook her head. "I refuse to believe that, Sempai. You swore you would never allow a male to even touch you." She remembered the disgusted look Motoko always got on her face when they passed a couple being friendly. "Don't tell us you have betrayed your vow and fell in love with a perverted male!"

Sakura seemed to get worried. "But Sempai said that her sister made them get married, which mean…" Her face became as red as fire.

Ami immediately beamed. "Sempai, you're pregnant!"

"WHAT?" screamed Motoko, as well as Yuka.

"Don't worry, Sempai," chimed Ami. "We'll help you raise your little girl. Between the four of us, there won't be anything left of him to ever touch a girl again."

Yuka offered her support. "You won't be alone. We'll make certain that no one knows about it, and then you will still have your image."

"Screw that!" Yuka angrily snarled. "I say we cut that pervert's…thing…off and bronze it and hang it off your sword, Sempai. We can use it as proof that no male should ever thrust his perversions onto a female!"

"THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED!" screamed Motoko. She was breathing heavily after that outburst.

"Sempai, that can't be good for the baby."

Motoko directed her glare at Ami. "For the last time, I am not pregnant. And I will not stand here for these insults about my husband. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must meet him to plan our strategy to face off against my sister later today."

"But, Sempai, what will you get if you beat her today?" asked Sakura.

Yuka glanced at Motoko nervously. "What will you have to do if you lose?"

Motoko stopped on the stairs, scratching the back of her head and turning around. "To tell the truth, I have no idea."

The three girls face-faulted. As Motoko continued back up the stairs, only Ami was able to speak. "Maybe Sempai wants to have his baby."

Yuka, however, vowed that the male known as Keitaro Urashima would pay for stealing her Sempai's innocence.

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