Disclaimer: see part 1.

Steel Rose

Part 3

By Random1377

Keitaro sat at the kitchen table with his sketchbook in front of him, resting his head against his fisted left hand as he scratched a few details into the drawing on the page before him. Snow fell heavily outside, collecting on the windowsill and partially obscuring his view of the outside world and giving the room a dim, cozy appearance – like something out of an old Norman Rockwell painting.

The idea of which, Keitaro liked. It was a private dream of his to be compared to Rockwell – or anyone of his caliber, really. He knew his drawings were decent, but he also knew that he was no Rockwell.

Perhaps, he mused, someday…

"Do you want some hot chocolate, Sempai?"

Blinking, Keitaro looked up. "Er, sure," he said, giving Shinobu a polite smile as the girl dried her hands on a small towel. "Do you need me to do anything? I'm kinda bored."

Shinobu waved one hand. "No, I can do it," she said warmly. "Can I see what you're drawing?"

Keitaro shrugged. "Sure."

As Shinobu came around the table to get a better look, Keitaro thought, She's sure been quiet since she had that fever…

What at first he took for avoidance, Keitaro realized, was simply business. He hadn't realized how much work the young girl did around the house, so her always being where he was not could easily be attributed to her catching up on her chores. Now, three days after Kitsune's trip to the Megumi concert, Shinobu always seemed to be in the same room as him – though from what she was doing (cooking dinner, in this instance) it was clearly not deliberate.

Keitaro gave up trying to find hidden meaning on the girl's quietude. She's probably just glad to be well again.

"Oh," Shinobu exclaimed, leaning over to get a better look at the drawing. "It's me."

Chuckling weakly, Keitaro said, "Well, it's the whole kitchen… I just thought since you were standing by the stove for so long, I could add you in."

Shinobu smiled happily. "It looks great, Sempai," she said honestly, touching him briefly on the back of the hand as (unbeknownst to Keitaro) Kitsune had suggested.

Keitaro shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware that if either of them were to move a mere six inches, their lips would meet. And when did she get that shirt? he thought suddenly. I can see right down-

He cut this thought off, yanking his eyes away from where they had wandered and locking them onto the sketch once more.

Though Shinobu was nearly giddy from the Hinata manager's attention, she forced herself to contain it, reminding herself that Kitsune had told her that guys liked it when you played hard to get. She did not truly want to play hard to get, but she trusted Kitsune's advice almost implicitly, believing – as more people in the Hinata Sou did than did not – that Kitsune had the experience to back her words up.

Straightening, Shinobu walked back to the stove, putting a pan on the left backburner and getting the ingredients out to make hot chocolate. "Where's Motoko-sempai?"

"She's out shopping with Naru," Keitaro replied. "Since all the chores were caught up, she had no reason to stick around."

Shinobu glanced over her shoulder. "I thought she said she was going to follow your every move, or something?"

Shrugging, Keitaro mumbled, "I guess sketching doesn't count as moving."

"But it's good that she's doing this, right?" Shinobu said thoughtfully, turning around to lean against the counter as she added the last few ingredients. "You get your chores done twice as fast so you get to do something you enjoy, and she gets some time to spend with Naru-sempai."

"I guess you can look at it that way," Keitaro admitted. "I just… sometimes I feel useless around here. She's faster at everything, so when she's done, she moves on and finishes my part too, leaving me with nothing to do but… sit around and sketch."

Shinobu tilted her head. "You're not useless," she said softly. "We rely on you, sempai. None of us can keep this place running – we tried, remember? Maybe you should just enjoy it."

That's the second bit of advice I've gotten this week, Keitaro thought suddenly. Be more like Naru, and enjoy being a slacker. Funny – the way I see it, if I took both of their advice, I'd be practicing Tai Chi while punching holes in the wall…

"There's an art exhibit coming up at school this Saturday night," Shinobu murmured, turning to the stove and stirring the pan as she let this sink in. "I've invited everyone else to go… would you like to come too?"

Keitaro considered the offer. Everyone else is going, he thought reasonably. And with Motoko helping, I should have all the chores done pretty early…

"Sure."

Smiling to herself, Shinobu mouthed, 'Perfect.'

( 0 0 0 )

Motoko felt as if she was melting from pure boredom. "Are you trying on everything in the store?" she muttered. "Or perhaps we're biding our time until the next delivery truck arrives?"

"Oh, keep your shirt on," Naru retorted, turning to the side and pressing her hands against her stomach as she studied her reflection in the changing room mirror. "Gotta go jogging," she whispered, "I'm getting fat."

Rolling her eyes, Motoko replied, "If you're fat then I'm a monster. Don't talk about weight with someone who outweighs you by ten pounds, Naru."

Naru unclasped the bra she had been trying on. "Yeah, but you're all muscle," she said, letting the garment slide down her arms and looking for the next one to try. "I'll bet you could bench-press me."

"Well I could have," Motoko said dryly, "before you got so fat, I mean."

"Ooo and the gloves come off," Naru snorted. "Following your 'sensei' around all day is disagreeing with you, Motoko – puts you in a bad mood. Maybe you should give it up."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply."

Clapping her hands sharply together, Naru said, "Suit yourself. Ok, now it's your turn."

"My turn for what?" Motoko wondered.

Naru retrieved her own bra from the bench next to Motoko. "Don't be a dip," she muttered, "you said you needed more bras… that's why we came here."

Motoko looked down at the small mountain of undergarments Naru had amassed. "None of these would fit me," she observed. "They're all too small."

"Too small?" Naru exclaimed incredulously. "Come on – you're like, what, a B cup?" Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes. "You're wearing bindings right now, aren't you?"

Folding her arms, Motoko sniffed, "That's none of your business."

"You are!"

Motoko flushed. "And so what if I am?" she snapped. "Just because I've given up the blade doesn't mean I've given up everything about my lifestyle, you know. I still work out when I can, and to do that, I have to be bound."

Naru finished snapping her bra, then abruptly leaned down and put a hand on either side of Motoko's head, effectively boxing her in.

"Let's see 'em."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come on," Naru needled. "It's just us girls here, what's the big deal? You always cover up with a towel in the hot springs, so no one's ever had a good look at you. I trade bras with Kitsune, so I know she wears my size – and Shinobu doesn't even really need one… but you," she clucked her tongue. "I've never had a good look at yours."

Motoko blushed furiously. "Because it's none of your business," she said angrily. "Move, I'm leaving."

"Oh, just show me," Naru grinned. "Don't make me tickle you."

"Tickle?" Motoko muttered, eyeing the other girl suspiciously. "Have you been drinking Kitsune's sake?"

Smiling from ear to ear, Naru lifted her hand, holding it menacingly in front of Motoko's face. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," she chanted, inching closer and closer to Motoko's ribs. "Don't be such a dork – it's not like I'm gonna take pictures and sell them on the internet, I just wanna see."

"Well I don't want you to!" Motoko huffed, trying to push the other girl away, but finding it impossible without putting her hand somewhere it oughtn't to go. "Get away!"

"Come on, just a peek."

"No!"

"I won't tell anyone!"

"Damn it, Naru, I said no!"

"Why are you being such a freak about this? I just want to compare-"

"I said no!"

Naru gasped as Motoko abruptly shoved her back against the wall, nearly knocking her down as she threw the dressing room door open and dashed out into the store.

"What the… hell was that…?" Naru groaned, quickly covering her chest as several curious shoppers glanced in. "Do you mind?"

( 0 0 0 )

Kitsune glanced up from the magazine she was reading as Motoko stomped past her door, the expression on her face clearly indicating that she was looking to hurt someone. "Whoa there," Kitsune called. "Motoko, c'mere… what's with the badittude?"

After a moment of quiet, Motoko appeared at Kitsune's door. "Sorry if I disturbed you," she said stiffly, "but if you'll excuse me, I don't really want to talk about it."

"Eh, don't be so uptight," Kitsune recommended, holding up the plastic tumbler in her free hand. "Buy you a drink?"

Motoko frowned. "You know I don't drink."

Grinning broadly, Kitsune replied, "Maybe you should start. Seriously, though… come on in, take a load off. There's something I wanted to talk to you about, anyway."

Slowly, Motoko entered the room. "What did you need?" she asked, taking a seat on the floor so she was not towering over the other girl.

"Just need to know why you're stomping around," Kitsune said brightly, setting her magazine aside and taking a small sip of her drink.

"Didn't I just say I didn't want to talk about it?" Motoko asked incredulously. "You're unbelievable!"

Kitsune winked. "Thank you. Hey, don't get all touchy," she said as the swordsman started for the door. "I'm your friend, you know… I might not spend as much time with you as Naru, but-"

Motoko growled. "Don't mention that name right now," she muttered as Kitsune stared at her. "I have… issues with her."

"Ahh so that's it," Kitsune said knowledgably. "What happened between you guys? Two hours ago you guys were the best of pals, just heading out to do a little bra shopping. What did she do, pop your brastrap in the food court or something?"

"No," Motoko said, "she just doesn't know when enough's enough, that's all."

Kitsune arched an eyebrow and took another sip of her drink. "Intriguing," she murmured. "But then again, that's not really a revelation, is it? Everyone knows that Naru doesn't know when to quit. What did she do, though? I'm sure she didn't mean to piss you off, whatever it is."

"She-"

"Go on," Kitsune coaxed as the other girl cut herself off. "Keitaro and Shinobu are in the kitchen and Su's down in her room… no one will hear you."

Reluctantly, Motoko gave a quick outline of what had happened in the dressing room. "And I told her I didn't want to," she concluded, "but she kept pushing it, so I got mad and left." She folded her arms self-consciously over her chest, sniffing as she concluded, "Honestly, they're my breasts… I don't have to show her if I don't want to."

Shrugging, Kitsune replied, "Personally, I think you're both right, and both wrong. On the one hand, it really isn't that big a deal… I mean, she has the same equipment, and it's not like she was drooling on your chest or asking you to turn lesbian for her." She paused for a moment. "Was she?"

"No!" Motoko exclaimed, "She's not like that… and before you ask, no, I'm not like that either!"

Disappointed that she had not been able to crack wise about this, Kitsune said, "On the other hand, she shouldn't have kept pushing if it was bothering you and just let it drop when you said you didn't want her to see."

Motoko threw her hands in the air. "Thank you," she said with some satisfaction, "Finally – a voice of reason."

"Just out of curiosity, though," Kitsune said casually, "what is the big deal?"

Averting her eyes, Motoko replied, "I just don't like anyone looking at my body, ok?"

"Oh," Kitsune yawned, "because you're so much bigger than the rest of us?"

Motoko went dead white. "How can you say that to me?" she whispered hoarsely. "It's not my fault – I have to work out a lot."

Kitsune shook her head. "I'm not saying it's bad, Motoko," she said bluntly. "You're in great shape. I wish I had your abs."

"But not the rest of me," Motoko whispered, her face flushing as she tried to rise to her feet. "The huge arms, the legs – it's freakish, why don't you just say it?"

Catching her hand, Kitsune murmured, "That's not what I meant and you know it. Any of us here would kill to look like you. So you're a little more muscular and taller, big deal, you-"

"I'm a giraffe!" Motoko exploded. "I'm huge, and intimidating… that's what you mean, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kitsune said unexpectedly. "You're immense – like 747 coming in for a goddamn landing! You've got huge boobs, legs that go on forever, long, flowing hair, and a fantastic smile. Yeah, Motoko, we all think you're just hideous! Forget the fact that you make guys run into telephone poles and fight over who gets the privilege of holding the door for you in stores, they're all doing it to mock your ugly ass. Good god, get the hell over yourself!"

The two glared at each other for well over a minute, neither willing to back down.

Finally, Kitsune yanked the other girl off of her feet, catching her completely off guard and pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Wh-what are you-"

"Open your damn eyes," Kitsune whispered seriously, cutting into Motoko's shocked exclamation. "And for God's sake, have a drink! You're the tensest person I've ever freakin' met!"

After a moment of stiff resistance, Motoko slowly relaxed. "I may be tense, but at least I'm stable," she muttered, allowing the other girl to hug her.

"Here," Kitsune said softly, pressing her cup into Motoko's hand. "You need this more than I do."

Reluctantly taking the drink, Motoko murmured, "Maybe… just one…"

( 0 0 0 )

Dinner was uncomfortably quiet. Keitaro kept looking around at all other residents of the Hinata, but for the life of him, he could not figure what was going on. Kitsune was busily eating, so her mouth was occupied for the time. Shinobu was always quiet when she ate, unless someone was talking to her, and Su had scarfed down her food in approximately forty-five seconds before scurrying off to her room to build some harebrained contraption or another.

But Naru and Motoko almost always made conversation at the table, so seeing them sitting in absolute silence was a bit unnerving – and Motoko kept rubbing her head as if she had a mild hangover, an idea so absurd that Keitaro nearly laughed out loud.

"So," he said hesitantly, "did you guys buy anything good while you were out?"

Naru abruptly pushed her plate back. "I'm done," she said with a cool look at Motoko. "I'm going to study. Thanks for dinner, Shinobu."

Before Keitaro could say a word, Naru strode out of the room, watching Motoko until she reached the door as if expecting her to attack at any time.

After she was gone, Kitsune said, "Hey, pass me her leftovers."

"Hungry, Kitsune?" Motoko asked, glancing significantly at the gray haired girl's empty plate.

"Can't help it," Kitsune said, winking at Shinobu. "My little sweetheart here makes it so good I have to go back for seconds."

"Or," Sarah offered helpfully, "you could be pregnant."

Kitsune gave a wolfish grin. "Now Sarah," she said playfully, glancing significantly at Motoko, "you know a girl can't get another girl pregnant."

"Ugh, charming," Motoko said wrinkling her nose in distaste. "I hope you're not implying that I'm your partner, because quite honestly, you're not my type."

"You're not mine either," Kitsune said dryly, "I like the shy, quiet types – and I only go for girls that cook great food… isn't that right, darling?"

"K-Kitsune-sempai!" Shinobu gasped, bowing her head as a brilliant blush spread over her cheeks.

Keitaro scooped a bite of food into his mouth, but nearly choked on it as Shinobu uttered a soft whisper.

"…you weren't supposed to tell."

Kitsune let out a wicked cackle as Motoko fumbled her chopsticks. "Perfect," she said gleefully, giving Shinobu an over-the-table high five.

"Super," Motoko said, pushing her plate away as she glowered at Kitsune, "now you're corrupting poor little Shinobu? You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I'm not… little."

Motoko glanced at Shinobu. "Hm? What was that?"

Shinobu cleared her throat. "I said I'm not little," she murmured nervously. "I'd… I'd like it if you stopped saying things like that, Sempai. I'm fourteen years old now, so… I'd really like you to start treating me like you treat Naru-sempai and Kitsune-sempai."

"You tell her, Shinobu."

Shooting a dark look at Kitsune, Motoko grumbled, "You stay out of this. Alright, Shinobu," she said evenly, turning her eyes on the younger girl. "If you want to be treated like everyone else… you'll be treated like everyone else." So saying, she turned to Keitaro. "Do you have any objections to Shinobu cleaning the second floor hallways?"

Keitaro looked uncomfortable. "Well, she's umm… already doing most of the laundry – and cooking like, every meal… she's got a lot of chores alre-"

"But she wants to be treated like everyone else," Motoko cut in sharply, clearly more angry with Kitsune for supporting Shinobu than at Shinobu herself. "If she wants to be seen as an adult, she can do an adult's work… wouldn't you agree?"

"Well, I guess, but-"

"So it's decided."

Motoko pushed her chair away from the table.

"Starting tomorrow, the second floor is all yours."

"H-hey," Keitaro protested, "Motoko, you-"

"Alright."

Keitaro was about to say something more, but before he could speak, Kitsune gently laid a hand on his forearm, shaking her head as he turned to look at her and mouthing, 'Let it go.'

Sighing, he looked back to where Motoko and Shinobu were staring at each other, neither willing to be the first to break eye-contact. "If you think you can handle it," he said quietly, "we wouldn't mind the extra help."

Shinobu nodded, keeping her eyes on Motoko as she replied, "I won't let you down, Sempai."

With a snort, Motoko picked up her dish and put it in the sink. "I'm going to my room, sensei," she said coolly, "unless there's anything else you need me to do."

When Keitaro said that he couldn't think of anything, the swordsman left without another word.

"Woo-hoo!" Kitsune declared, slapping her palm on the table and making the others jump. "That's my girl!"

Shinobu, who had been sitting rigidly upright in her seat, sagged against the table with a heartfelt sigh of relief. "Thanks, Sempai," she said weakly. "I promise I won't let you down."

Feeling that he had missed something, Keitaro said, "I know you won't, Shinobu… I trust you."

The smile that Shinobu gave him for this comment was nothing short of radiant.

( 0 0 0 )

"Sensei… may I speak with you?"

Motoko waited outside of Keitaro's room for several moments before a quiet, "Umm, sure," answered her hesitant question.

Pushing his door open, she stepped in. "I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, noting that the young man was under his covers.

"Nah," Keitaro replied, shaking his head for emphasis. "I was just working on a sketch and got cold, that's all."

"Ah."

"There was… something you wanted to talk to me about?" Keitaro prompted as the girl simply stood looking down at him for a few moments without saying a word.

Reluctantly, Motoko said, "Yes. I believe I may have spoken too harshly to Shinobu."

No, really?

Keeping this thought to himself, Keitaro sat up on his futon. "Then you probably got the wrong room," he suggested. "I mean, that's something you probably want to tell her isn't it?"

"I can't."

"…oh."

"I want to," Motoko said quietly, "but I can't."

Frowning, Keitaro wondered, "Why not?"

Keeping her eyes averted, Motoko mumbled, "I see you're taking good care of my blade. Thank you."

Keitaro followed her line of sight. "Oh, yeah," he said, "I thought it would look better on a sword stand… and Kitsune is the one who suggested putting the rose in a little vase next to it – you know, kind of a juxtaposition thing."

"Mm."

When the swordsman said nothing more, Keitaro murmured, "Was there anything else? Did you maybe… wanna hold it for a minute?"

Motoko's right hand twitched. "No," she said coolly. "Giving it up for a year means truly giving it up. I would need to start over if I touched it now."

Nodding, Keitaro said, "Well is there anything I need to do to it? Polish it or something?"

"If… it would not be too much trouble," Motoko said slowly, "I have some choji oil and uchiko powder in my room. I oiled it a few weeks ago, but if you could oil and polish it every month or so, I would appreciate it."

"You really care about your blade, don't you?" Keitaro noted.

Motoko met his gaze. "It isn't my blade," she said softly. "A true samurai does not own a blade, she is simply its custodian, preserving it for her family's honor and asking its protection every time it is drawn."

Looking a bit green, the young man murmured, "And you're really ok with giving it to me for a year?"

"No, Keitaro," Motoko said flatly, "I'm not. I hate every second it's away from me, and I pray every night before I go to bed that you won't do something stupid like swing it around over your head or try to draw in and cut your fingers off." She drew a calming breath. "But I will not waver. I cannot waver. I have pledged myself to a year in your service, and I will not fail to live up to my end of the arrangement."

Keitaro found that he could not meet her intense gaze. "…even though you're not getting anything out of it," he whispered.

Motoko said nothing.

"Are you allowed to show my how to polish it and stuff?"

"No," Motoko said quietly. "I cannot touch it. That is the rule… but if you are willing, I can tell you everything you need to know about how to take care of it."

Nodding vigorously, Keitaro said, "Can you show me now? And then remind me in like, a week or two, to make sure I haven't forgotten?" Smiling weakly, he added, "I think… I finally understand how important it is to you, and I… I don't want you to be unhappy if I do anything stupid with it."

Motoko looked quite grateful.

"Wait right here."

For the next three hours, Motoko painstakingly described a tenth of what she knew about swords and sword care. Detailing everything she knew would have taken substantially longer, but she gave Keitaro enough information to enable him to effectively care for her blade. Keitaro took notes, listening attentively to everything Motoko had to say and drawing a few quick sketches of the key pieces he was to pay the most attention to when cleaning and oiling the weapon.

He dared not unsheathe it, telling Motoko bluntly that when it came time to work on it, she would have to be there with him or he would never have the nerve to do it.

When she had told him everything she could think of, Motoko joined Keitaro in silently gazing at the blade's scabbard, taking in every nuance of it fine scrollwork etching and feeling a pang of guilt so strong it nearly made her shudder.

I'm sorry, she thought, resisting the urge to reach out and seize the blade once more. When we are reunited… I will never let you go again.

She stayed where she was for another twenty minutes before excusing herself to go to bed, though she was so absorbed in thoughts of her eventual reunion with her blade that she barely noticed Keitaro drawing her profile… and she never saw the soft, slightly wistful smile that graced his lips as he worked, so carefully, to capture her on paper.

Continued…

Author's notes: many of the thoughts and ideas on swords for this chapter came from a page on everything2 dot com, including the use of choji oil and uchiko powder and Motoko's comments on how a samurai feels about his blade. I can't give a direct link on fanfiction dot net, since they strip out hyperlinks. Sorry.

Pre-read on this chapter was by Hawker-748, who is having a devil of a time helping me keep everyone in character. Sorry, man… I just don't have the experience you do.