Disclaimer: see part 1.

Steel Rose

Part 9

By Random1377

"Hah! Hah! Hah!"

Motoko stood alone on the Hinata Sou's roof, practicing with her blade in the bright light of the full, winter moon. She was covered in sweat, her face glistening in the cold air as she brought the blade down again and again in a neat, smooth arc. The sweat felt good on her face in spite of the bracing cold, giving her a sense of comfort and familiarity. It was pure and clean and free of the dust and debris that sometimes got on her when she did housework with Keitaro.

This was a warrior's sweat.

I was never cut out to be a maid, she thought, switching positions and changing to a diagonal slash. I'll leave that to sen- to Keitaro and Shinobu. …though it may be difficult, with them dating.

Moving on instinct, Motoko spun on her heel, swinging her blade sideways and catching a small droplet of snow as it dripped from the tree hanging over the Hinata's roof.

Smiling with satisfaction, she flicked the snow off of her sword. Not that it's any of my concern, she thought, raising her blade overhead once more. She wants to be more grown up? Fine. He wants to grope underage girls? Who am I to stop him?

She gritted her teeth.

"Focus," she whispered, trying to hold her anger as it threatened to shift into confusion. "Honestly, if Shinobu and Keitaro…"

Motoko trailed off as she spied a large white crane soaring overhead, impossible to miss in the otherwise starless sky.

"Shippu," she breathed, tracking the majestic bird with her eyes for a moment.

As it turned to the south, the realization of what this implied hit Motoko like a hammer.

"…sister."

Without a second thought, Motoko sheathed her blade and dashed to the stairs, tearing through the house until she reached the ground floor and searching for only a moment before finding her sister's bird winging off into the forest.

Trees blurred past as Motoko gave chase, whipping past as she drove deeper and deeper into the woods surrounding the Hinata until finally… her goal was in sight.

"Good evening."

Skidding to a halt, Motoko gave a guarded nod. "Good evening, sister."

Tsuruko lifted her arm, allowing Shippu to perch upon it for a moment before sending the bird back up into the sky, where it flew off in the general direction of the Hinata. "I've come to see how you are progressing," she announced calmly. "Are you prepared?"

"Yes," Motoko said, straightening her back and giving her sister a formal bow. "I believe I am, sister. I believe… that I have come to understand what I must understand before progressing."

Eyeing her coolly, Tsuruko returned the bow.

"Tell me, then, what you have learned."

Motoko met her sister's eyes. "I have learned that I cannot be as patient as Keitaro," she said bluntly. "I have learned that, yes, he is a decent person… but he is still too weak willed for me to learn anything from him. I feel that this is sufficient to allow me to progress to the next level, sister, and I will tell you why." She took a deep breath. "The test, I believe, was not to see if I could learn patience… it was to see if I could understand that some things cannot change. It was to show me that, while I can grow more patient, I cannot become as patient as Keitaro, because that is not how I was brought up."

Tsuruko nodded. "Very interesting observations," she said neutrally. "I would agree with you on the question of patience, and your lack of it. Very few people on this Earth are as patient as your manager friend. It is wise of you to admit that achieving his level of tolerance is impossible for you. Well done, sister… but I'm afraid you still have not learned the lesson I was attempting to teach."

"Then… I've failed?" Motoko whispered. "I did try, sister – I tried very hard."

"Ahh, but what did you try?"

"To… to be like him."

Tsuruko smiled softly. "And you are so sure that this was the goal I had in mind for you?" Motoko opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Tsuruko murmured, "What became of the rose?"

Motoko winced. "I gave it to Keitaro as a token of my apprenticeship," she said. "I… I thought that was what you wanted me to do."

"Indeed it was," Tsuruko said, smiling faintly as her younger sister heaved a sigh of relief. "I wanted you to give it to him to symbolize that things are not always what they seem, for example… something that appears fragile on the outside can be strong within."

"Yes," Motoko said eagerly. "Yes, that's exactly what I told him!"

Tsuruko's smile grew sad. "And," she continued, "to show that even something once bright can grow dull and lifeless if left in the darkness too long. Dear sister, may I tell you why you failed?"

Caught up in her sister's lilting, even voice, Motoko could only nod.

"You failed to see the other side of the coin," Tsuruko said gently. "Something that seems fragile may be strong within… but something that seems strong may really be delicate and fragile once you peel back the surface. What did Keitaro say when you gave the rose to him?"

"Well," Motoko said, trying to remember the exact conversation, "not much. He was confused that I was… showing weakness, and he tried to refuse it at first, until I explained its symbolism. Oh, and he thought it was made of silver, but I-"

"It is… made of silver."

Motoko shook her head. "No, sister, you are mistaken," she corrected, "I looked at it when you gave it to me. It's steel – silver is shinier."

Tsuruko gazed up at the starry sky overhead, refusing to meet her sister's eyes as she said, "Silver left exposed too long begins to tarnish, growing dark and lifeless – until it appears somewhat like old, unpolished steel. If you look closely, though, you can see the silver trying to shine through, to break away from its prison and show its brilliance for the world to see. I hinted that you should give the rose to your manager friend… but I had hoped, or rather, prayed, that you would understand what, exactly, it meant."

Putting a steadying hand on a nearby tree, Motoko gasped, "Then the rose is… is him – and me. It's both of us… right? Is that what you wanted me to see? That he is strong in ways, and I am weak in ways? But sister, I already knew those things, unless-" she cut herself off, her head whipping up as understanding dawned in her eyes. "Unless you're… you're not saying that I'm the one whose brilliance is fading… are you?"

With a deep, sad sigh, Tsuruko put her hand on Motoko's head. "Strength untempered by compassion is what you hold," she whispered evenly. "It is the same as the old saying about power and responsibility, sister, with one must come the other, or you will become too hardened and bitter. In time, your strength will grow… but if your kindness and understanding stagnate, you will never evolve as a friend, lover, or samurai." Lightly, she stroked Motoko's hair. "Forgive me, Motoko… I could not avoid giving you such a difficult task."

Abruptly, Motoko took a step back. "No," she said softly, "no, I won't accept it. There must be another way – I did learn the lesson, sister… there has to be a way to advance."

To her surprise, Tsuruko's expression turned grim. "How astute to realize that there would be another way," she said calmly. "Very well."

Motoko shivered as her sister drew her blade, though instead of dropping into a stance, she thrust it high overhead, tilting it so it caught the moonlight and flicking her wrist several times as if she was trying to loosen her wrist.

Signaling, Motoko thought suddenly, she's signaling someone!

Spinning on her heel, she whipped around, barely catching a returning flash from halfway across the forest.

"Here, then, is your other way," Tsuruko said softly, slowly sheathing her blade. "In five minutes, the rose will be taken from Keitaro's room, and when he returns from his evening with the young Miss Maehara in seven minutes, he will find a note from you saying that you took the rose back because you felt that he was not worthy of holding it in his filthy hands… and that you consider him an utter failure as an instructor and friend."

"Sister!" Motoko gasped. "You would… go that far?"

Tsuruko lifted her chin. "To help my sister reach her full potential," she said regally, "I would shake the heavens and the Earth. Four and a half minutes remain, sister… four and a half minutes to return to the Hinata and defeat your opponent before the rose is taken."

"Who?" Motoko asked, drawing her blade and finding her bearings.

The Hinata is three minutes away, she thought quickly. …if I run.

"You will know her when you see her…"

Which means it will be you, Motoko thought, sparing no more time for her sister as she broke into a dead run. You were always faster. You'll be there before me… but I will not back down, sister. In this, I will not fail.

Tsuruko watched for a moment as her younger sister tore down the path. "Best of luck, sister," she whispered gently. "You will need it, I'm afraid."

( 0 0 0 )

Keitaro looked up at the Hinata, sighing quietly as Shinobu walked along at his side, beaming happily as they mounted the stairs leading up to the boardinghouse.

At least she seems happy, he thought, shooting the girl a sideways glance as she began humming under her breath. The movie was ok… the dinner was good… he frowned suddenly. So if this is a real date… does that mean she'll want me to kiss her goodnight?

The thought made shivers run up and down his spine. Half of him wanted to simply run screaming into the Hinata and close his door, nailing boards over it while shouting that he wasn't a child molester… while the other half simply observed that Shinobu looked absolutely fantastic that evening, and that maybe a little kiss wouldn't be that bad – if it was just one, short one, of course.

I wonder if I have split personalities, he thought dismally. I have to let her know, tonight, that this won't work out. I have to…!

His plan, which he had so carefully formulated, had been rather simple – avoid any contact except what was required to be polite, and then explain at the end of the date that being Shinobu's boyfriend just wouldn't work out. Unfortunately, he had ended up holding her hand through the movie, insisting on paying for dinner, even though it was near the end of the month and he was nearly broke, and even touching her on the small of the back as he helped her into the cab for the ride home.

Or in short: giving every sign that he was very interested in making it a romantic date, rather than a friendly one.

It's not too late, he reminded himself as they neared the top of the staircase. I can still tell her it won't work out. God, look at that smile, though… this is going to break her heart! Maybe I-

Shinobu cried out in shock as the front door of the Hinata abruptly burst open, and a body flew out of it, arching backward toward them as if launched from a howitzer.

"Motoko!"

Without thinking, Keitaro pushed Shinobu out of the way, spreading his arms and leaning forward a bit to brace himself for the impact as Motoko's back collided with his chest. "What-"

"Out of the way!"

Springing off of him, Motoko shoved him to the side, barely raising her blade as a whirlwind of steel darted out of the Hinata's front door.

My… God…

Keitaro could only gape as the thing (he could not imagine a human moving at such speeds) fell on Motoko. Instantly, the air was filled with the sounds of metal on metal, and to his horror, Motoko was driven back again and again, retreating down the steps as her opponent unleashed a flurry of strokes so fast Keitaro's eyes could not keep up.

As quickly as it had begun, it was all over. Motoko's blade flew from her hand, spinning end over end to bury itself in a tree near the stairs, and less than a second later, something heavy slammed into her jaw, sending her to the rough stone steps as gracelessly as a falling boulder.

Like a clockwork toy with a broken spring, Motoko's attacker came to a complete halt, revealing… a rather short woman in a plain white gi. Long, white-streaked black hair was tied up in a simple ponytail at the base of her neck, and the twin blades in her hands seemed to be half the length of Motoko's, though as Keitaro had seen, they were no less deadly.

"This?" the woman whispered, gazing dispassionately down at Motoko's still form. "This is the best you can offer? After seventeen years of study, this is the best you can do?"

Motoko forced herself upright, casting around groggily for her blade…but she froze immediately as the one of other woman's swords dipped under her chin, the tip touching her throat as her eyes widened in shock.

"Ahh, you finally recognize me," the woman said dryly, sheathing her second blade. "Bursting in like that and attacking without warning almost allowed you to overwhelm me… you've always been strong, Motoko, no one's ever questioned that, but as your sister has told me so often, you still lack patience and focus." Her lips compressed to a thin line. "To think she gave you the rose her husband gave her as an engagement present in the hopes that you could reach the next level. …pathetic. Why it's almost enough to make me-"

"Keitaro, no!"

The woman glanced to her side at Motoko's outburst, but simply rolled her eyes as she found Keitaro brandishing Motoko's reclaimed sword in shaky hands. "Oh great," she mumbled. "The knight in shining armor has arrived."

"Leave her alone!" Keitaro gasped, his whole body shaking as he tightened his grip on the blade's hilt. "Just leave Motoko alone. I don't know why you're here, but if you hurt her I'll… I'll never forgive you!"

Motoko winced, but the short woman threw her head back and roared with laughter. "H-hurt her?" she gasped, slowly pulling her blade away from Motoko's throat. "Put that blade down, boy, or the only one that will be hurt is you – when you cut off your own fingers."

Finally regaining her composure, Motoko rose unsteadily to her feet and walked to Keitaro, laying her hand gently on his arm to ease the blade down to face the ground. "Easy," she whispered. "Easy, sensei, you-"

"This is your sensei?" the woman howled. "Oh, oh this is too much!"

Closing her eyes, Motoko mumbled, "Keitaro… please meet Chiharu Aoyama." She blushed as the woman fell over backward, holding her sides with unconcealed glee.

"Mother… this is Keitaro Urashima."

( 0 0 0 )

"Ahh," Keitaro said fifteen minutes later. "I get it now… so you're the famous swordsman. I always thought it was Motoko's father."

"Most people do," Chiharu said evenly, taking a cup of tea from Shinobu with a murmured thanks. "And quite honestly, that's fine with me. People challenge you less if they think you're just a regular housewife." She smiled thinly. "It does irritate my husband a bit, though."

They were all sitting around the kitchen table, save for Shinobu, who was pouring more tea for Motoko and Keitaro and listening raptly as Chiharu explained why she was there. "So to sum up," she said finally, "this test was of my devising, and I am the one that will determine when my daughter is ready to move on."

"Umm, Sempai?" Shinobu said hesitantly. "I'm… going to bed, if that's ok." She smiled weakly as she added, "I'm kinda tired, and I think this is more between Motoko and her mother."

"Smart girl," Chiharu said levelly. "Goodnight then."

Shinobu, looking as if she very much wanted more of Keitaro's time, reluctantly bowed and made her exit.

Keitaro took the ensuing moment of silence to study the woman, deciding that she looked rather like a more compact, more mature version of Motoko. Her hair came down to the middle of her back, and the silver threads running through it were far less pronounced in the soft light of the kitchen, making her appear younger than a woman with two daughters, one of them in her early twenties, would normally be.

He could not tell much about her body, of course, since she was wearing a loose-fitting gi and, if she was like her daughters, bound her breasts… but his imagination was more than happy to suggest that she was probably proportioned like her children, though she was, he estimated, at least four inches shorter than Motoko, coming just barely under his nose when they had stood face to face in the entranceway of the Hinata Sou.

I can see where Motoko and Tsuruko get their looks, he thought suddenly. Not someone to mess with, though. I saw the way she kicked Motoko's ass, and the way she talked to her afterwards… all it would take is one wrong word or an accidental touch and she'd cut my head off, and I don't mean figuratively. Their father must be strong as hell.

Chiharu blew on her tea. "Now then," she said briskly, drawing Keitaro's attention back to the matter at hand. "Since it's just koheis and senseis here, let's get down to brass tacks. You want to know if there is any way to progress, am I correct, Motoko?"

"Yes," Motoko said immediately. "I know… that I did not exhibit wisdom, or strength, in this test. But, mother, I would like another chance. What must I do to earn that chance?"

"Nothing," Chiharu replied at once, calmly sipping her tea. "You failed to protect the rose, as you failed to realize its meaning. There will be no progression for you until I decide to test you again. And based on what I've seen here tonight, I feel you will be ready for another test in," she paused for another sip, "three years."

"Three… years?" Motoko gasped, slumping back in her seat. "Mother, that's unfair."

"Mm, call it what you will," Chiharu said neutrally. "But that is my final word on the matter."

"Umm… Misses Aoyama?"

"Yes Mister Urashima?"

"Please," Keitaro said slowly, "this is all that matters to Motoko. Isn't there another way? I'll help her any way I can…"

"Oh, how sweet," Chiharu said, putting a hand against her chest. "How moving – the concerned sensei, caring only for his kohei, willing to do whatever it takes to see her happy! I'm so… touched." She smiled, taking Keitaro's hand tightly in hers and smiling warmly as she said, "No, young man, there is no other way. There is nothing you can do, there is nothing she can do, and there is nothing anyone else can do. I've given my decree, and it's quite final." She gave his hand a squeeze. "I give you an A for heart, though. Touching… truly touching."

"Then… where do I go from here, mother?"

Chiharu released Keitaro's hand and regarded her daughter. "I can't see how this affects you in any way," she said smoothly. "A month ago you weren't even aware that there was another level to be reached… so this should have no impact on your day to day life."

Motoko kept her eyes on the table as she whispered, "But to know that I am not progressing – to know that I am stagnating. Mother, it's… too much…"

For a very long moment, Chiharu studied her daughter.

"Interesting."

"Hmm?" Motoko hummed, finally lifting her head. "What's interesting?"

Chiharu turned her cup around on the table three times, seemingly formulating her response before she said, "In less than a month, you have learned a slight measure of self-control."

"Pardon?"

"I would not have thought it possible," Chiharu said thoughtfully. "Why, had I come here five weeks ago and told you all of this… you would have exploded. Interesting… interesting…"

Keitaro and Motoko stared at each other, dumbfounded, as Chiharu stroked her chin.

"Listen well, daughter," she said finally, "for these will be my final words to you for the evening. You asked where you should go from here, and while I think you already know, I will tell you. Continue your studies. Hone your body and your mind. Prepare for the day I come back to test you again, and then, I am positive… you will not fail."

Motoko's hands clenched desperately at her gi, but she kept her voice from cracking as she softly replied, "Yes, mother."

"And."

"And?"

Chiharu turned her steely gaze on Keitaro. "And whatever it is you're teaching her, sensei, I would ask that you keep it up. My daughter has never been long on patience, and it seems to me that you have found a way to touch her heart. For that, I thank you. For this lovely tea, I thank the young lady that made it. Now, I must go, for my daughter is not my only obligation. Good evening to you both."

Keitaro, who had come to think of the woman as a force of nature rather than a person, fully expected her to vanish in a cloud of smoke… but she simply lifted her cup and drank the last of her tea, rose to her feet, bowed, and walked out the front door of the Hinata Sou without another word.

( 0 0 0 )

"Your jaw ok?"

Motoko glanced over her shoulder, nodding as Keitaro came out of the Hinata to join her at the railing. "It'll bruise," she said evenly. "I deserve it."

Keitaro rested his hands on the railing, looking out over the town. "Just because you couldn't figure out the rose thing?"

"No," Motoko replied, "because if it had been a life and death struggle to protect someone I loved… they would have suffered – and that is unforgivable. A little bruise is nothing compared to the pain of a loved one. It will remind me to work harder."

Smiling faintly, Keitaro countered, "Don't they always say to work smarter, not harder?"

Motoko gave him a sharp, sideways glance. "Are you mocking me?"

Keitaro looked up at the stars. "Nah," he said softly, "now that you have your sword back, you're too dangerous."

"Oh, and I wasn't before?" Motoko wondered, arching an eyebrow. "I don't need my blade to teach you a lesson, if I need to." She assessed him for a long moment before adding, "But I think you're safe for now."

"Thank goodness," Keitaro murmured. And from his tone, it was clear that he was only half joking.

"So…"

He turned to face her. "So…?"

"Would you mind if I continued spending time with you?" Motoko asked hesitantly. "You heard my mother, so… you know the reasons why."

"Sure," Keitaro said firmly, "I'd be glad to help."

Motoko smiled ruefully. "I wanted this so bad, Keitaro," she whispered. "Funny, isn't it? She was right – a month ago I didn't even know there was more to learn, and now it's all I can think about."

Tentatively, Keitaro put an arm around her, ready to pull back if this was too much intimacy. He heaved a sigh of relief as Motoko leaned against him, thankful to have someone to support her. "I know it meant a lot to you," he said awkwardly, "but this way at least you'll have lots of time to prepare yourself. I think your mom was right, Motoko, when she comes back to test you again, you'll pass without even trying. And there's something else, too."

"What?" Motoko wondered, glancing at Keitaro's profile as he looked out over the town.

"This way," he said slowly, "you can pass your entrance exams… and go to school with Naru and me before you have to go train." Smiling, he looked timidly into her eyes. "I'm pretty sure Naru would like that… and I… I know I would."

Motoko felt her cheeks color. "Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah, that sounds like fun."

Keitaro nodded firmly. "It will be."

With her hopes suddenly revived, Motoko felt her lips curving up in a bright smile. He really does have pretty eyes, she thought, as Keitaro returned her smile. Nice eyes, strong hands, soft lips, good…

Motoko's heart skipped a beat.

…lips?

It was quite a shock to her to realize that her lips were pressed tightly against Keitaro's and that the front of his shirt was clenched in her fists as his arms wrapped around her. She tried to decide if he was kissing her (unlikely), or if she was kissing him (also unlikely, but the more probable of the two options), but ultimately gave up, deciding that she would rather focus on the reality of the kiss than its origins.

Because it felt pretty damn good.

"W-well," she said, finally breaking away. "I, umm… should get to bed. Lots of training to catch up on… lots of training…"

"Right," Keitaro replied, quickly letting her go. "Right, sure. Umm… sorry…"

Though half of her mind was screaming, 'Damn right you are!' she found her lips forming an entirely different sentiment.

"Don't be."

The brilliant red of her blush clashing with the spreading purple of her bruise, Motoko pushed past Keitaro before he could stop her, hurrying to her room as the words, What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing? ran over and over through her mind.

Just one more question that had no immediate answer.

Continued…

Author's notes: as I understand it, Motoko's mother is never mentioned anywhere in the series, and the only background information we have on her is that she is 'the daughter of a famous kendo master,' though, to my knowledge, it does not specify that this is her FATHER, and even if it does, all the Aoyama women are strong, so there's nothing saying that her mother isn't ALSO a kendo master. That's my story, I'm sticking to it, and I defy anyone to show me I'm wrong, dang it!

Hawker-748 pre-read yet again, and provided much information on Motoko's background… so if any of it's wrong, it's really his fault. Mehehehe