Author's Note: I do not own Love Hina in any form. This is meant merely to entertain. Ther is no profit, so don't sue me. Reviews are welcome as well as suggestions.

Chapter 1: Tragedy

This is a story of revenge. Like any good revenge story, it begins with a tragedy.

"Naru, are you home," called out Keitaro. There was no answer. Keitaro Urishima, age 28, along with his adopted sister, Kanako, was the manager of the Hinata Inn, a nice little getaway with its own natural hot spring. It was also home to his family and friends. He had just returned home from a week long stay in America and was hoping to surprise his wife and two lovely children.

"Maybe she's with Haruka," Keitaro thought to himself. His watch indicated that it was nearly 6 pm. His family should have been home by now. He went over the day's routine in his mind. Naru goes to work around seven, leaves work around three, picks up the kids around three thirty, and arrives home around five. "That's strange," he wondered, "oh well, maybe they're out shopping."

Picking up his suitcase, Keitaro headed for his room, talking to no one in particular, "might as well go soak in the hot springs until they come back." Near the staircase, he heard something coming from upstairs. It was barely audible, but it sounded like a cough. He called out, "anyone up there?" No response. He gently placed his suitcase back to the floor, and walked up the stairs quietly, straining his ears to pick up the slightest of sounds.

This time, he was sure he heard it – a wet cough. Fear gripped him. He burst into speed, heading straight towards the sound. It was coming from Kanako's room. As he passed the corner, he saw the tattered remains of her door. There was blood on the walls. He stopped when he saw the blood. "Kanako," he whispered, hoping that he was wrong. He saw the blood trail leading into her room. "Kanako," he yelled out, running to her doorway. No response.

Kanako was lying on the floor. Her near naked body was covered in tattered remnants of clothing and blood. He slid on the ground next to her, and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Kanako," he called out again, his tears cascading down. Kanako's eyes fluttered opened, she smiled at the sight of her brother. "Brother," she whispered, "I'm glad I got to see you one last time." Keitaro's face contorted in agony and cried out, "No, Kanako, you're not going anywhere. You have to stay here with your big brother and help me run the inn."

He could feel the cold in her body creeping in, sapping his own warmth from him. He examined her body, trying to find the killing wound. He turned her around so that her body was resting against his own. She grimaced in pain, but made no protest. She wanted to feel him before the darkness settled in. He saw the laceration across her abdomen, where the liver was located. The blood oozing from the wound was black – too much had been spilt. He knew she would be dead soon. "Who did this to you," Keitaro asked through his tears.

Kanako made no reply. She smiled at him, touching his ear with her outstretched hand. Then she spoke a single word, before the strength left her vocal chords, "please." Keitaro knew what Kanako was asking of him and he would not deny her this – her final wish. He lowered his head close to hers and kissed her lips with a passion no siblings should ever share. Keitaro tried to communicate all his love and affection into the kiss as he felt the life leave his sister. An eternity passed for Keitaro before Kanako's hand slid off his ear. He broke from her lips and gazed on the pale figure before him too stunned to react. Something caught his eye; something clutched in her other hand. He reached out for it and gently pulled it from her grip. His eyes widen when he saw the photo in his hand. It was the one from their childhood. In the picture, a young girl, eyes hidden by her bangs, was smiling. An older boy dressed in a traditional elementary school uniform was next to her, giving the hand sign for peace and victory. His face was frozen for a moment. He then gulped in a massive intake of air, burning his lung to capacity, and released a cry that shook the very foundation of the ancient building.

"Dammit," Naru muttered underneath her breath, hoping her children didn't hear her little indiscretion. She hated deviations from her schedule. Shinobu heard Naru and chuckled. She had agreed to accompany her while picking up little Haruka and young Kenji from school. The train suffered some mechanical trouble, delaying their ride home by about an hour. Shinobu was the first one to see Keitaro's shoes on the shoe rack. "I think Sempai's back," she informed Naru. "He must have gotten back early to surprise us," Naru replied happily. She had missed her husband terribly. He went off to America a week ago to visit Kitsune on a business trip. Kitsune was a former resident and Naru's best friend. A year ago, Kitsune went off to America to make her fortune in exporting traditionally brewed sake to the States. Keitaro was a founding partner and main investor in the enterprise.

The quiet atmosphere was shattered by the sound of indescribable pain. Shinobu's blood froze as she thought she recognized something about the terrible roar. A name escaping from her lips, "Keitaro." Naru instinctively reached for her children. "Don't worry, Mommy's here," as she held her youngest, Haruka, in her arms. The little girl didn't like the terrifying sound. She whimpered, "Is it a monster?" Naru looked into her little girl's eyes, and replied, "No honey, monsters don't exist, but I want you to go with Shinobu to Aunt Haruka's place." Then she looked to her son, telling him with a motherly voice, "watch out for your sister, and don't let her out of your sight, okay Kenji." Kenji just nodded his head, not knowing what else to do. Shinobu wanted to protest, but Naru's stern look told her that there would be no debate. She was going to go upstairs and she wanted her children away from the house, safe. Without uttering a single word, Shinobu led the two children outside towards Haruka's tea shop, which sat at the foot of the hill where the Hina Inn sat proudly on.

The cry had not abated when Shinobu and her children had left the house. There was such agony in the man's voice – Keitaro's voice she thought. She approached the stairs, climbing it cautiously. The cry gave way to a wailing that resonated throughout the house. Recognition was instant. It was Keitaro. All thoughts of caution fled her mind, replaced with an overwhelming sense of dread. She yelled out, "Keitaro, Oh God, Keitaro, where are you?" Only the agonizing wail could be heard. She ran up the stairs towards the sound, heading towards Kanako's room.

She stopped at the door. She saw Keitaro holding on to the lifeless body of her friend and sister-in-law. Her eyes darted from the tattered remains of the door to the blood that had pooled underneath Kanako's body. Naru dropped to her knees and began to heave. She could feel the bile burning its way up her throat. She turned her head away and vomited onto the floor. The sound of retching and wailing could be heard throughout the house. When her stomach had been emptied, she slowly made her way to her husband. Hearing his wife brought Keitaro back to his senses, silencing his wail. Visibly shaken, Naru wrapped her arms around Keitaro's head, allowing her body to cover his. "What happened here, Keitaro? Who did this," she asked, her voice cracking.

Keitaro, not lifting his head to meet her gaze, whispered, "she was killed by a sword." The words had stuck her hard. She knew of only two people who wielded swords in this modern age and they were sisters. "It can't be," Naru replied, her response barely audible.

Naru felt Keitaro's arm reaching over her arm, his hand clutching onto the fabric covering her back, while his other arm coiled around Kanako's body. Naru responded by looping her arm over his shoulder, grasping for his chest, while other arm wrapped around Kanako's head. In their embrace, Keitaro spoke through clenched teeth.

"It was Motoko."