"Hey, thanks for the party, Tsuruko!"
"Oh, you are most welcome," replied the Elder Aoyoma, smiling with a hand covering her mouth and the other waving lightly to the guests.
Kitsune Konno waved at the newlyweds before heading off with the other dorm residents, hands behind her head, smirking all the way, and shouted, "See ya later, guys! We'll get the place ready to you two for when you get back!"
Keitaro sweatdropped, and posed the question to his bride, "Ano, what do you suppose she meant by that?"
"If it's Konno, it's something extremely perverse and unacceptable," muttered Motoko, her arms crossed and eyes closed as if she were meditating on what that might be.
When they were a distance away, Shinobu, whose tear-stained cheeks had finally dried, walked up beside Kitsune, looking somewhat concerned about her choice of words, "Uhh, Kitsune, what did you mean by that?"
"Yeah, yeah! What're we gonna do? Turn his room into a Haunted House?", cried Su in excitement.
"TP their rooms! TP their rooms!" squealed Sarah accordingly.
Kitsune sniggered, "You kids have no imaginations, do ya? What exactly do you think couples do when they get married!"
Su and Sarah, being young and immature, were at a loss. "Stay up until 3:00AM watching movies on TV?" quizzed Su, putting the tip of her finger to her mouth, "I know that's what I'd do if I got married!"
"Fling things at each other really, really hard?" piped up Sarah.
"Nah, they already do that now…well, at least, Motoko-chan does."
"Uhhh….TP their rooms! TP their rooms!" was the only other thing Sarah could think of, and chimed in with her suggestion again.
"Geesh, didn't your parents teach you kids anything!" Kitsune barked, placing a hand on her forehead in frustration. She pulled out a blackboard from seemingly nowhere and put on her professor uniform. Taking a pointer out, she directed it at a picture of a man and a woman. She cleared her throat, "Ahem! You see, when a guy really, really digs a chick, he lays next to he…KYAAAH!"
Haruka proceeded to put her cigarette out in Kitsune's hair, "What the hell are you teaching these kids?"
"So, they take naps together?" Su rubbed her chin, trying to comprehend what the fox girl had been explaining. Her face was contorted in deep thought.
All the color drained out of Shinobu's face as she froze with realization, putting her hands to her face, "Y-you don't mean…!" She immediately turned to stone in embarrassment.
"Hrm heh heh heh," Kitsune grinned and nodded, rubbing the ash and cinders out of her hair, "Finally, someone who understands me."
"I understood you perfectly," Haruka shot a dirty look at Kitsune.
"Yeah," she shot back, "but you're an old maid. I'm teachin' the younger generation here!"
Kitsune was sent flying into the next prefecture courtesy of Haruka's elbow. Haruka grumbled and turned to the others, face expressionless as usual, "Ok, guys, who's up for some ice cream before our train leaves?" She lit up a new cig, took a draw, and began to walk towards a nearby ice cream stall.
Both Su and Sarah cheered, and followed close behind.
"I want turtle-flavored! Turtle-flavored!" Su demanded, leaping on Haruka's shoulders and going piggyback.
Shinobu was left behind, still frozen as if a statue; a pigeon landed on her head.
"Coo," it remarked.
After the gang had taken off into the horizon, Tsuruko moved in front of the newlyweds, her motions so graceful, it was as if she was floating on air. She smiled, "Fu fu fu…you two make such an adorable little couple."
The two didn't respond but simply looked away from each other, blushing beet red.
"So, uh, why did you want us to stay behind, Tsuruko-sama?" Keitaro put a hand on the back of his head, nervously glancing downward. Mostly because he was embarrassed, but also because to look at Tsuruko would mean that he might not be able to look away. Her beauty had even made the female Hinata-sou tenants stare. Motoko didn't appear to hold a candle to her beauty quite yet.
"Does marriage do that to a woman?" he wondered.
The Elder Aoyama smiled, and laughed gently, "Tut tut, Keitaro-san…please, call me onee-san."
"Y-yes ma'am!" he stammered back, standing at attention like a Private First Class.
She smiled lightly and placed her two hands on both of the couples' shoulders, "Well, with that said…I asked you both to stay behind to begin your training!"
They both raised their eyebrows and cocked their heads questioningly.
"Training, onee-san?" said Motoko, unsure of where this was headed.
"Is she going to allow me to pick up the sword again?" she speculated inwardly. Her heart skipped a beat.
Tsuruko nodded, holding a finger up, "Why of course! You need to learn how to be a married couple!"
They both fell face-first into the dirt.
"W-what!" Keitaro leapt to his feet, face somewhat dusty, and flailed his arms.
"What do you mean, onee-san!" said Motoko, acting in much the same way as her husband.
Tsuruko smiled, hiding it behind the tips of her fingers. She found it so cute when those two were flustered, which made them an even better match in her opinion. She sincerely enjoyed teasing them for this reason.
"Come with me, young ones," she turned around without explanation and advanced towards one of the nearby school halls. Motoko and Keitaro looked at each other in puzzled confusion, but inwardly shrugged, and kept up as best as they could in their wedding attire.
The halls of the dojo were sparse, decorated with not much more than the occasional picture of some inspiring words and images. Various arms and implements of war were sprinkled carefully throughout on stands and walls. The floors were hardwood, clean, and they bounced off the spare remaining rays of sunlight peeking through nearby windows.
Keitaro wasn't completely overwhelmed by the whole affair. In sightseeing with his family when he was younger, he had seen dojos that were much more impressive and lavishly decorated. This place was a bit…spartan in comparison.
He stopped briefly to admire a sword sitting on its stand in the middle of the hallway. It was much like the rest of the hall: austere, but beautiful in its simplicity. It was old, but not dusty or displaying any visible signs of rust or disrepair. Resting in a black sheathe, just enough of its blade was revealed to reflect the light glinting off of its gorgeous metal. On the hilt were written the following Kanji: Honor, Respect, Duty. He held out a hand to feel along the hilt…
…and was duly smacked alongside the back of the head. He winced, rubbing the sore spot where Motoko had whacked him one.
"Don't touch anything in here," she hissed at him in a sotto voice, "or I will personally make use of you as a training dummy!" She grabbed his hand and led him roughly in the direction her sister had headed, fuming all the way. All Keitaro could do was go along for the ride as her grip was tighter than a vice.
"Uh, sorry?" he offered in consolation, fairly sure that wasn't going to be enough.
Tsuruko came upon a small, rather unremarkable wooden door set in the wall at the back end of the dojo. Seemingly oblivious that her brother-in-law was being dragged behind her sister's wake, she carefully folded her hands in front of her and placed them on her hakama, waiting patiently for the two to arrive.
"S-sorry, oneesan. This fool just got a bit, uh, lost," Motoko flustered, not sure why she was making excuses for this moron.
"Oh my, it's certainly all right," Tsuruko responded with her usual benign smile. She turned her attention to the door and opened it, "Wait right her, please." She walked inside the dark portal and various sounds of rummaging could be heard from within.
Motoko let go of Keitaro's hand, finding herself blushing slightly, and leaned over to him, whispering, "Sorry, but be careful of anything you do, say, or touch in here. There's no telling what onee-san would do if she found out something was tampered with in the hall!"
Keitaro gulped, realizing full well the powerful wrath of Tsuruko when she went psycho. It was as if she had a split personality: delightful, charming, pleasant and extremely beautiful on the one hand; she was cunning, powerful, mobile, and downright scary when upset. Motoko had once stated that when she draws her sword, it is as if you are witnessing a "war god that's been awoken from its slumber." After experiencing Tsuruko's wrath in battle, he had to concur. She was one mother you didn't want to mess with.
"A-all right," he nodded, adding, "Sorry, I won't let it happen again."
"See that you don't," she muttered and pulled back, crossing her arms and looking away. Her hand was still warm from his touch. She glanced at it out of the corner of her eye, flexing it, trying to remember what it felt like.
Tsuruko reemerged, holding what appeared to be a few staffs, "Ah, I've found them!"
"Um, what are those?" Keitaro pointed towards the implements she was clasping. He wondered if she was going to have him do battle with Motoko over a pit of flaming pitch or razor sharp blades in order to assert dominance in their marriage or some other such weird nonsense.
"Why, your training equipment," Tsuruko beamed and handed a staff to each one of them.
"Urm? T-tsuruko, I'm not really sure I have time to be training in martial arts…I do kinda have a dorm to run, and classes to go to, and…and…"
Motoko cleared her throat and spoke up, "Urashima."
"Hmm?" he turned his head towards her.
She held the long pole in her hand and quickly turned it over so that the other end pointed upwards. It was clear that something was definitely attached to the other end.
It was a mop head.
No, not a spear, sharp blade, or even spiked ball and chain…but a mop head.
He looked back to the staff he grasped in his own hands and turned it upside down.
A broom.
The newlyweds stared at each other for a moment and then looked back at Tsuruko questioningly.
"Onee-san? What gives?"
"Well, someone needs to clean up the mess after the reception."
They both sweatdropped.
"Clean up…" started Keitaro, looking at Motoko.
"…the mess?" finished Motoko, looking back at Keitaro.
Tsuruko belied her gentle, serene exterior and smiled darkly for a moment and then began to head back down the hall, hands behind her back. She stopped for an instant, looking over her shoulder, "Motoko-chan, this is a wonderful opportunity for the two of you to work together and learn how to function as a couple. I would like the entire yard to be swept and cleaned, the wedding platform mopped and any garbage picked up. Furthermore, all the dishes must be washed as well."
She continued onward, stating as she turned around the corner, "I do so look forward to your results."
They stared at each other for a minute, still unsure of how to react to her sister's odd instructions. She hadn't been aware of any previous traditions in the family that required the new couples to clean the reception, so this was new to her.
Regardless, Motoko knew better than to disobey her sister's directives.
"Uhh, I'll take care of garbage detail, I guess," Keitaro rubbed the back of his head, throwing the broom over a free shoulder; the other arm was occupied steadying himself on his crutch.
Motoko nodded slowly in response, holding the mop horizontally in front of her, and looked downward, "I will focus on mopping the floors of the wedding stage, I suppose."
They nodded assent at each other and headed back towards the outside.
Tsuruko peeked around the corner, smiling, All they need is a push in the right direction, she thought to herself.
Keitaro yoinked up the twenty-third saké bottle he had come across and tossed it in the basket he had holstered on his back. It resounded with a heavy 'thunk' as it landed on top of the twenty-two other empty bottles and assorted garbage. These must have all been Kitsune's doing. He sighed, then wiped his brow and proceeded to grab a handful of spent candy wrappers and party favors. The Hinata crew sure did know how to party hardy. The place was a mess. He doubted any of Motoko's relatives could have done this much damage.
A few items fell out of his basket when he bent over to collect trash under a nearby reception table.
"Drat. Who ate all of this stuff?" he murmured to himself, picking up yet another used banana peel. "Oh, duh. Well, at least I know who ate all these." He tried to flick off some gunk that had managed to attach itself to his left hand. His knees were beginning to ache from the constant kneeling, and the cast on his leg wasn't exactly making the job much easier. It emitted a small, throbbing pain that had constantly egged him on. At least he was almost done.
His thoughts depressingly began to wander and Naru's face became the heart of his meditations. Her attributes floated up at him: her smile, her laugh, the way she would pout when upset, and the way she'd pound you into orbit when you were caught "peeking". He smiled softly for a moment, lost in the overly optimistic memories he'd accumulated.
The reality of the moment kicked him in the gut, however, and suddenly he was back sitting on the ground: now very much a married man and picking up garbage…with a turtle lounging on his head.
"Myuh."
He sniffed and wiped a single tear that had accumulated on his cheek and placed Tama-chan on the ground; she promptly flew off to do turtle-y things.
"My old life is over," he reflected mournfully and turned his attention back to the matter at hand.
Spotting an empty paper cup underneath an adjacent table, he stretched to grab at it. It was just out of his reach, and the basket and cast were restricting his movement. He stretched further…just a little bit more…more…
"Urashima?"
"Yea--? OW!" Keitaro had attempted to look up to whoever was calling him and he ended up banging his dome on the underneath of the table. He rubbed his poor, pounding skull while tears of pain began to form at the edges of his eyes.
Motoko stifled a laugh, covering her mouth to hide any sense of amusement. She leaned down, now wearing a light brown sweatshirt and sweat pants, having traded in her wedding clothes. She thumbed at the stage behind them that the wedding ceremony had taken place on.
"I have completed mopping the platform. Did you require any assistance?"
Urashima shook out the cobwebs from his head and snatched up the blasted paper cup before it could cause any more trouble. This time he made sure he was out from under the table before sitting up.
"Uhh, I don't think so. This is about it," he smiled lightly, regardless of how fake it appeared. He stowed the cup and remaining garbage that had fallen from the basket. "What about you?" he replied in turn.
She stood back from her hunched position, placed her hands on her hips, and took in the reception area around her. She shook her head, "No. I believe we have nearly completed everything. All that is left is the dishes."
"Finally," Keitaro breathed out in relief. They'd been working on this for approximately five to six hours. Each time they were sure they had finished a particular chore, Tsuruko had come along and pointed out something they had missed or something else that needed doing. At least her persistence had paid off: the yard surrounding the stage and reception area was pretty much spotless. It had also all been done in relative darkness since the sun had set and there were not really any sources of outside light other than a few paper lanterns hanging here and there outside of the dojo. Moonlight was their main, practical source.
He attempted to get up on his crutch, but his leg screamed out in agony at the abuse it had endured due to the fight earlier and the cleaning duties just completed. He let out a small cry and fell back on his behind. Instinctively, he dropped his support, and grabbed at his leg, embracing it tightly, hoping somehow that would ease the pain. It was somewhat akin to sucking on a paper cut: it doesn't exactly help, but it makes you feel better, anyhow.
Motoko began to berate him for his carelessness, but stopped herself before the first word had barely left her lips. He didn't seem to notice, and clung to his hurt leg.
Would you please take care of Keitaro for me?
She stared at him for a second and sighed inwardly.
"Here," she stated, leaning down and placing her arm around his left side, "Lift with your other leg."
Keitaro blinked, suddenly forgetting about his leg for a moment, a little taken aback by compassionate behavior originating from Motoko. He shrugged internally and nodded, placing his right foot on the ground. He pushed down, and took hold of the crutch with his left hand. She helped him up slowly until he was standing straight; he leaned on his crutch until he could stand steadily on his own.
"Are you all right?" she asked, staring sternly at him.
"Mm," he affirmed.
She hesitated in letting go of him, but finally did so, turning away so he couldn't see her blush.
"What is wrong with me!" she rebuked herself, and swiftly cleared her throat.
"Let's finish this. I would like to go back home." She began to walk back towards the main house, hands behind her head. She stopped momentarily to look over her shoulder, "Do you require help?"
"Uh, no thanks," he replied, running a free hand though his hair; he was a bit perplexed and uncertain of what else to say. He started to hobble after her, but stopped, turning to stare at the now twilight sky. It was relatively clear out here in the country (Kyoto?), and the stars stood out like a zebra's white. You could almost reach out and touch them.
However, they had very little significance in the mind of Keitaro Urashima at the moment. His heart weighed heavy as his thoughts rested on Naru; he was worried about her and wasn't sure where she had disappeared to. The fact that she didn't show up for the wedding wasn't a huge surprise, but it definitely wasn't something constituting a sign of good tidings.
Why had he risked everything by helping Motoko with her deceptions and her battles? He had no allegiance to her in the same way he did to Naru, except as that of a friend. Was it his uncertainty about how Naru felt about him? Had he already given up and accepted that she shared no feelings for him in the way that he did for her?
Speaking of that, what exactly did he feel for Naru and why?
Sure, he couldn't deny that he felt warm and fuzzy when she was around, and that a genuine friendship between them had bloomed in their camaraderie as ronins.
But was it genuine love like he had professed to her back in the hospital? Or did he only feel some sort of emotional attachment to her due to their shared set of circumstances and closeness?
Does it really matter how I feel anyway? That ship has sailed. Motoko is my focus now.
Still, he was burdened for Naru and exhaled noisily.
Please be happy, Naru.
A hand smacked him forward, dredging him out of his meandering meditations.
"Urashima! Quit dillydallying! Let's go!"
"Y-yeah! Sorry!" he apologized, laughing nervously. He quickly followed his spouse inside.
She wandered aimlessly down the streets of Kyoto, no particular destination in mind; the farther away from "him" and the rest of the Hinata residents the better. Her cheeks were tear stained, her long golden brown hair a tangled mess, and her clothes wrinkled. The only thing she carried was a small duffel bag containing her clothes, which she had slung over her right shoulder. She sniffed softly, an occasional whimper and moan escaping from her lips. She lifted a trembling hand to wipe more tears that were attempting to make their escape.
Stupid, stupid Keitaro. You big dummy.
She came to a stop, holding out a hand to prop herself up against the pole of a nearby noodle shop. She put all of her weight against it and bent forward; her downcast face was obscured by her bangs. Her shoulders began to shake again as the whole scene played over and over in her mind. In the matter of mere seconds, any chance of anything between her and Keitaro was dashed on rocks…and she never took the time to tell him how she really felt…she'd been too afraid.
No…no…
"IT'S NOT FAIR, DAMN IT!" she suddenly shouted out, her fists clenched in anger and brow furrowed; tears streamed down her miserable countenance. She lashed out with her fists and proceeded to punch the pole in outrage. She did so several different times in succession until her fist was completely black and blue. It stung like hell, but she didn't really care…her mind was playing over those last few moments over and over.
The kiss. The kiss that ended her life.
She finally stopped, breathing labored and heavy. She stood for several moments, silently contemplative and sobbing. She didn't even bother to notice that her fists were bleeding.
Why did I just give up? Why did I just hand him over to her?
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and gazed emptily forward; she was so intensely focused inward that she didn't take notice in the screaming projectile descending on her from far overhead.
"…aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH-----!"
SMASH!
A living "missile" plowed headfirst into the roof of earlier referenced noodle shop, throwing up clouds of dust and debris all over the environment. Adding insult to injury, a 2 x 4 smacked Naru directly in the face.
"Ack!" she blurted out and fell onto her butt. A huge red "beauty mark" in the shape of a wooden plank showed directly in the center of her face.
"Oh, sonnafa---" a voice spat out, "…my new dress is all ruined! Damn that Haruka!"
Naru blinked a few times. That voice was certainly familiar.
The door to the noodle shop flew open, and a shadowy figure in a tight blouse and mini-skirt walked out, pouring what appeared to be dust from one of her pumps, "Ehhhhhh…..these shoes cost me 10,000 yen! Cripes, guess I'll have to trick Keitaro into letting rent slide this month."
The figure noticed Naru and walked into the moonlight.
"Heya, girlie. Wondered when I'd find ya," she grinned.
"K-kitsune!" Naru blurted out.
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Author's Note: Heh, wow, it's certainly been awhile, hasn't it? Probably 3-4 months by my count. Wonder if anyone is still interested in reading this? I was certainly surprised by the response I received after the posting of Chapter 1 and graciously thank you all of you for your comments and encouragement. I was also surprised to find that the story was added to a few favorite lists. Lest I get a big head, I need to remind myself that there are several more chapters to go! Ah, well. I did get back into this game to see if I could manage the challenge! I don't think I realized when I started this endeavor that the fanfic market was already deluged with Motoko x Keitaro tales. Nevertheless, I will proceed as long as the Lord allows me. New chapters may come sporadically and at different intervals as I intend not to release each section without making sure that I'm fairly pleased with what I've written. That, plus I work a full-time job, which leaves very little time in the evenings.Ever had a serious burst of inspiration with one piece of writing and then hit a brick wall when you work on the next? That's a bit what writing Chapter 2 was like. I currently have written a synopsis of what each chapter will focus on and the story ideas therein. I am presently aiming for ten chapters, but depending on circumstances, may do more or less than that. In any case, I knew what I wanted to accomplish with Chapter 2, but some of the implementation was lacking and I ran into a lot of editing of parts that either didn't quite make sense or did not fit too well into the canon. I am almost afraid I will sway either too far towards over-seriousness and reflection or too much wacky hi-jinx and slapstick. A balance is essential; however, even the manga-ka of Love Hina himself, Ken Akamatsu, usually went overboard with laughs. Likewise, he did take side trips along the way and allowed for ruminations on character development and relationships when necessary to the story. Much of chapter 2 might be considered a 'side-trip' of sorts. Most of the serious humor hits you in the face at the beginning and then grows a bit more introspective.
The characterization in some of this, I fear, may not be totally in sync with Akamatsu-san's series, but I have attempted the best I can. My intention is to make the characters grow, if even towards a new direction from the original. Thankfully, I have all fourteen volumes on hand for reference.
But, don't worry. Su will still always be a banana-eating freak; Kitsune a wise (wise-ass, maybe), yet drunken, partier; Sarah will always be a real, and totally utter brat with perhaps a bit of a soft spot for the 'dork'; timid little Shinobu may grow out of her shyness, but her kindness and thoughtfulness for others will not diminish; Keitaro will be the same indecisive, nerdy ronin who eventually sheds his skin to become something a bit more than he was; Motoko will still retain the spirit of a warrior, but perhaps will grow the most of all. Naru, will…well, I won't go into too much detail regarding that yet…especially since I haven't totally figured that out myself. :D
Boy, sounds like you're in good hands, doesn't it? Put on your helmets, folks.
In any case, it is my intention to allow changes to occur naturally and not force them, as some are wont to do.
Yes, people do change: but sometimes it's subtle, and other times it's completely in-your-face obvious.
Well, my author's note is becoming as lengthy as the chapter itself, so I will end it here. I do hope you enjoyed Chapter 2! Please feel free to point out any problems or contradictions you see with the story and any changes you propose I might make. This story is by no means a stagnant document; it is constantly transforming until I feel it is ready to let go.
laugh I can already look back at Chapter 1 and see several glaring omissions; perhaps I am being too hard on myself?
Thanks, and please keep sending the reviews!
Hinata no Otaku(aka Joshua Seames)