Disclaimer: see part 1.

Steel Rose

Part 5

By Random1377

Kitsune was not in a very good mood. She had woken up stone sober, having only had a few drinks the night before, and found that sobriety was as lame as it ever was. No cure for it, she thought dismally, can't make the scene if you don't have the green.

Now fully dressed, there was only one thing left to put on.

And she dreaded it like nothing else.

"Don't puke," she advised herself, slipping one arm into her brand new work vest, proudly emblazoned with her new employer's logo. "Don't puke, don't puke, don't… eww…"

She made a face as the gruesome, already-hated garment settled onto her shoulders.

Bad enough that it's MAROON, she thought angrily, but polyester, too? Life is so unfair sometimes.

Shrugging to loosen the uncomfortably stiff fibers on the vest, Kitsune regarded herself in the mirror.

"You look like a monkey," she told her reflection. "Worse yet – you look like an upright, law abiding citizen." She let out a tired sigh. "…God, I hate upright, law abiding citizens."

Pulling one eyelid down, she stuck her tongue out.

"Meeeehhh!"

Feeling marginally better after this childish display, she stepped out of her room and closed the door, grinning suddenly as she spotted Keitaro wiping one of the windows that looked down over the front of the Hinata.

Well, if it isn't my little KeiKei, she thought gleefully, time to share the misery!

Hey, she figured, as long as she had to be uncomfortable, why shouldn't everyone else?

"Keeeeiiiiitaro."

Keitaro let out a pleasantly helpless squeak and nearly put his fist through a pane of glass as Kitsune wrapped her arms around his chest and smooshed him up against the window he was trying to clean. "Ki-Kitsune," he stammered, the cheek that was not pressed against the glass turning visibly red as the gray-haired girl rubbed her whole body up against him. "G-good morning…"

"Good morning?" Kitsune pouted. "I haven't seen you all weekend, Keitaro, you're always so busy, and a little 'good morning' is all I get? Shame on you."

This, of course, was entirely untrue. She had seen him on Saturday morning, before the play, and on Sunday at breakfast and lunch. The fact that she had been out partying Saturday night and had spent the evening in her room feeling sorry for herself for having to go to work had no bearing on the current situation, as far as Kitsune was concerned.

"Well, what should I do?" Keitaro asked, sounding as if he wondered if he ever said the right thing.

Repressed desires, she thought suddenly, remembering her conversation with Motoko and Naru a week before. I'll show you idiots repressed desires. This is just… entertainment.

"Give me a hug."

Keitaro eyed her as best he could, what with his face mashed up against the cold windowpane. "Give you a hug?"

"Uh huh," Kitsune said brightly. "Friends hug all the time, and we're friends, right? So when you see me in the morning, give me a hug."

"Er… ok."

Pulling away to allow him maneuvering room, Kitsune held her arms out wide. "Lay it on me, KeiKei."

Tentatively, Keitaro wrapped his arms around her, nervously keeping several inches between their bodies.

"Gotcha!"

Keitaro's eyes bugged out as Kitsune put one hand on the back of his head and yanked it down into her cleavage, smothering him against her chest for several seconds before letting him go and stepping back with a delighted laugh.

"Now that's how you start a Monday!" she declared, smirking as Keitaro adjusted his glasses and quickly turned back to the window to hide his crimson cheeks. "Tomorrow, we work on kissing!"

She laughed out loud as Keitaro fumbled the washcloth he was cleaning with and whipped around to face her. "Wh-what?"

"Kidding!"

Laughing out loud, Kitsune dropped the flustered manager a wink, then, impulsively, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, taking great pleasure in watching him put a hand on the wall for support as his knees threatened to give out.

"See you later, KeiKei," she said merrily. "Keep up the good work."

Still chuckling, she headed down the stairs, checking her pants pocket to make sure she had her keys and nearly running headlong into Shinobu.

"Oh, hey," she said brightly. "How's it-"

"What are you doing?"

Kitsune blinked. "Huh?"

Shinobu's hands were clenched into tiny fists at her sides. "I thought you were supporting me," she said tremulously. "What were you doing with Keitaro?"

"Oh, it's 'Keitaro' now, is it?" Kitsune asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement as she looked down at the clearly riled girl. "Couple of dates and he's your property, is that it?"

"Kitsune-sempai," Shinobu nearly whined, "you said you'd support me…"

Waving one hand, Kitsune said, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just messing with him. I-"

"Well don't."

Kitsune laughed out loud, reaching out and ruffling the girl's hair playfully. "Now, now," she teased, "don't go getting all worked up."

To her surprise, Shinobu pushed her hand away. "Don't do that," she said sharply. "I'm serious, Kitsune… don't get close to Keitaro anymore."

For a long, long moment, Kitsune simply stared at the younger girl. Then, slowly, she folded her arms over her chest and whispered, "And what will you do if I do it anyway?"

Shinobu's hands shook at her sides, and her eyes held a distinct glint of fear at Kitsune's words, but she was so frustrated that she could not manage to speak.

Wow, Kitsune thought critically, she's a little wildcat when she's pissed off.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," she said dismissively. "I told you he's all yours, remember? And you really don't want me against you… do you?"

For a very long moment, Shinobu simply stared at her. Finally, she averted her eyes and forced her hands to unclench.

"Please don't be close to him…?"

Smiling, Kitsune whispered, "Better. Now I've got to go to work, so why don't you run along and spend some time with your man before Motoko gets bored and decides that she wants his sword to replace hers."

Predictably, the mention of anything sexual reduced Shinobu to a stammering, red-faced mess, and she nodded, scurrying off up the stairs with a barely mumbled, "Sorry."

"That kid," Kitsune chuckled to herself. "Honestly… why does everyone think I'm out to get that guy in the sack?"

Shrugging, she headed out to reenter the workplace, sighing mightily as she recalled that at the same time the day before, she was already sipping sake and thinking of new ways to needle Motoko about her 'service' to Keitaro.

Well, she thought with a grin, there's always the weekend.

( 0 0 0 )

"Do it slowly," Motoko said quietly. "Very, very slowly. Don't jerk it!"

"S-sorry!" Keitaro stammered, blinking sweat out of his eyes as he willed his hand to move slower. "I didn't know it would be this much work."

"Anything worth doing is worth doing right," Motoko said absently. "Ok, it looks like you've gotten all the uchiko powder off the blade. Now it's time for the choji oil."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Keitaro drew his hand away from the gleaming sword, setting the polishing cloth to the side and reaching back to grab the oil.

"Why does everything have to be so slow?" he wondered curiously, uncapping the oil and waiting for instructions on how to apply it.

He wasn't about to guess what came next in the cleaning and polishing process, lest he should make a mistake. Motoko's blade may have been shelved, but her tongue was as sharp as ever.

Motoko held up her hand, pointing to a long, thin scar running the length of her palm. "If you don't treat the blade with respect," she said flatly, explaining the need for caution, "it will reprimand you."

"R-right."

For several minutes, he said nothing, applying the oil to Motoko's blade and allowing it to seep in before wiping the excess away. Finally, the job was finished, and Keitaro could not resist the urge to hold the blade over his head, marveling at how the smooth steel caught the light.

"Carefully," Motoko said, quickly leaning forward to catch his wrist. "Carefully, sensei…"

"Sorry," Keitaro said sheepishly. "I couldn't help it… it just looked so gorgeous."

Motoko's cheeks tinged a pretty, glowing pink.

She cleared her throat, offering him the sheath as she whispered, "To complement a swordsman's blade is to complement the swordsman. Remember that the next time you feel like saying something that bold."

Keitaro blushed, carefully slipping the oiled blade into its sheath and setting it gently on its stand. "So," he said hesitantly, "same time next month?"

Keeping her eyes on the blade, Motoko nodded. "Yes," she said absently, "once a month."

After a moment of staring at her profile, Keitaro whispered, "I know I asked you before, Motoko… but if you want it back, just say the word."

Motoko pulled her eyes away from the blade. "Please stop offering that," she said bluntly. "It makes it harder to keep my mind on what I must do when you repeatedly try to give me an easy way out."

"Right, sorry…"

"It's hard enough as it is to sit idle and play housekeeper with you all day," Motoko said coolly. "I don't need constant reminders that this is not my true place."

Keitaro averted his eyes. "I said I was sorry," he mumbled. "It won't happen again."

"Good."

Rising to her feet, Motoko smoothed her skirt, glancing once more at her blade before starting towards the door.

"If there's nothing else you need, I am going to go to bed," she said evenly, stepping through the open door and turning to glance over her shoulder. "We-"

She cut herself off as she turned to find Shinobu standing just outside, holding a tray with two steaming mugs on it. "Sorry, Motoko-sempai," the younger girl said, "but I thought maybe you and Keitaro would like a drink."

Motoko pursed her lips. "No, thank you. Goodnight, Shinobu."

"Oh… night."

Moving off down the hall, Motoko shook her head. As if I would sit in his room and sip tea with him – I was only there because-

Motoko's thought cut off with an abrupt mental snap.

"No," she whispered, "it can't be…"

Turning on the spot, she walked – very quietly – back to Keitaro's room. Her brow drew down as she found the door closed and the sounds of soft, friendly conversation coming from within.

How shameless! she thought incredulously. Alone with a boy with the door shut after bedtime on a school night? Next thing you know, they'll be announcing their engagement!

Motoko raised her hand, determined to yank the door open and break up the happy little party within, but she hesitated, staring at the back of her fingers and imagining – quite unexpectedly – a simple gold band on the third. Keitaro had been engaged to her, if only briefly, and she had never really given much thought to finalizing that union, or at least, she would not admit that she had.

But if she had been truly serious about Keitaro at the time, how would she have reacted if someone had stood in her way?

But Shinobu's so young, she thought, folding her arms and leaning against the wall next to Keitaro's door. She can't know what she wants already, can she? I don't even know what I want, and I'm­…

Motoko let the thought trail off.

Where had that come from? Of course she knew what she wanted! She had known from the moment she could swing a blade. When had she started to doubt her own resolve? The answer was obvious – it was all the time she was spending with her spineless 'sensei.'

Honestly, she thought, finding it rather easy to redirect her anger towards Keitaro, if he ever stood up for himself or did anything right, I would drop dead of shock.

"Hey Motoko."

"Hello, Naru."

Take Naru, Motoko thought as the girl stepped past her, she studies hard every day, she-

"Naru?"

Motoko shook off her reverie and pushed away from the wall, quickly turning to face the other girl… but before she could open her mouth, Naru was pulling Keitaro's door open and calling, "Hey, Keitaro, do you have those notes I… oh… oh, I didn't know you had company…"

Peering around Naru's shoulder, Motoko found her eyes widening at what she beheld, and it became quite clear why Naru was so flustered. Shinobu was sitting next to Keitaro on the floor of his room, an open sketchbook resting between them as Keitaro pointed out some detail or another… but what caused the girls in the hall to stare was Shinobu's closeness.

Motoko could almost picture the scene in her mind, imagining Shinobu leaning closer and closer as each page was turned until her shoulder was brushing Keitaro's and her hand was next to his on the floor.

Any closer and she could kiss him, she thought, her jaw falling open as Shinobu quickly turned her eyes back to the sketchbook. And she was about to! We opened the door just in time…! Her eyes shot to the cups of tea on the little table in the middle of Keitaro's room. It was never for me, she realized suddenly, she KNEW I wouldn't stay. That calculating little devil!

Shinobu, it seemed, had realized that Motoko had put the pieces of her ruse together. "Well," she said, quickly gathering up the tray and rising to her feet. "Thank you for showing me your drawings, Sempai… I'll see you in the morning."

Quick as a flash, the purple-haired girl bolted from the room, carting the tray down the stairs without so much as a single backward glance.

Slowly closing his sketchbook, Keitaro regarded the two glaring women outside of his door.

"What…?"

Motoko folded her arms, waiting to speak until Naru's inevitable explosion. She won't let this slide, Motoko thought confidently. Any second now, Keitaro will be flying through that wall. It's better that she do it, though, he IS my sensei, after all.

"Well," Naru said abruptly, cracking her knuckles loudly as she advanced into the room. "I'd recommend covering anything you don't want broken, pervert… because you are about to be visited by the ghost of beatings past, present, and future, all at the same time."

"Go ahead."

Naru nodded. "You're damn right I'll… huh?"

"I said go ahead," Keitaro said, nervously eying Naru's fists in spite of his words. "Do it… beat me up, break an arm if you want to – I know I can't convince you that nothing happened, so just get it over with." He swallowed hard. "But after you're done, do you think you can help me?"

Motoko and Naru exchanged a glance. "I think we're missing something here," Naru mumbled, entirely confused. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Keitaro motioned the two into the room. "Close the door," he said quietly, "have a seat…"

"We'll stand," Motoko said evenly, though she did follow Naru into the room and close the door. "Now… explain yourself."

Wetting his lips, Keitaro blurted, "You have to help me with Shinobu."

"Come again?"

"She's…" Keitaro wet his lips a second time, clearly choosing his words with great care as his eyes flashed to the place where Motoko's sword usually hung – as if she could call it by pure will, if she wanted to. "I know you guys won't believe it when I say this, but she's all over me! I thought it was just coincidence at first, but she's everywhere I go, all the time… and she keeps, you know, touching me – not like, anywhere perverted, but she keeps touching my hands and arms and 'accidentally' bumping into me in the halls and stuff. I don't know what to do."

Motoko frowned, remembering the look on Shinobu's face as she slipped out with the tray of tea… and her blunt admission that she was in love with Keitaro. "You mean you're always in her way, and it really is an accident," she said belatedly, discounting this scenario even as the words left her mouth.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Keitaro mumbled, "Look, I know you guys don't like me sometimes, ok? But this time, it's not me! She keeps asking me out – you know, like to that play the other day and stuff like that, and no matter how many other people get invited, it always ends up with just the two of us alone… and I can't figure out how to stop it from happening."

"Almost sounds like sexual harassment, doesn't it?" Naru mused. "You know, like in the movies, where the woman finally gets fed up with the guys up at work 'just being guys' and files a lawsuit, only this time it's role reversal."

Keitaro gave her a doleful glance. "This is serious, Naru," he groaned, "I can't… I can't just tell her no, it would hurt her feelings… but I can't keep going out with her and let things get serious."

Motoko found herself speaking before she could stop herself.

"Why not?"

When his eyes turned to hers, Motoko was surprised to find desperation in their brown depths. "She's fourteen, Motoko," he whispered awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable even discussing the topic with them. "You guys might think I'm a pervert, but you can't honestly think I'm a child molester… right?"

Naru coughed into her fist, kicking Motoko in the ankle to keep her from saying, 'Actually, we did.'

"What can I do?"

Motoko had to admit that she was at a loss for words. If he'd noticed sooner, she thought, biting absently at her thumbnail as Naru scratched her head, then he could have avoided her… but now it would seem obvious if he suddenly stopped spending time with her – and she's so sensitive that if he was up front with her, it would break her heart. I hate to admit it, but-

"You're screwed."

"I know," Keitaro said as Naru voiced what was on Motoko's mind. "There has to be a way I can let her know I don't see her that way."

"You could pretend to be involved with one of us," Naru mused, "I'll do it, if you want."

I'll bet you would, Motoko thought darkly. What was it you said about Kitsune week before last? Repressed desires indeed.

"No," Keitaro sighed. "That would just hurt her. She wouldn't understand why I could see one of you and not her…"

Biting her bottom lip for a moment, Naru turned to Motoko. "Is there anyone at your dojo who could help us out with this? You know, take one for the team and all that?"

"I don't think this avenue is really going to be effective," Motoko said smoothly. "We need to find another solution."

"Ok," Naru said, "what?"

Silence fell as the three regarded each other. It remained unbroken for some time.

Continued…

Author's notes: I can't think of any notes on this one.

Hawker-748 pre-read for me again, which makes me feel guilty because I'd rather have him working on his vastly superior stories than helping me limp through this one.