DISCLAIMER: Love Hina is owned by Ken Akamatsu. Not me, not you, unless you're Ken Akamatsu. If you are, I am much honored to have you reading my pitiful story that I call a fanfiction that pales in comparison to the great manga that you have created. Please forgive me for disgracing Love Hina with my mere presence in this world. I also do not own Ichigo 100, if I did, I would have had a Manaka & Kozue ending for the manga! And just in case, I do not own My Sassy Girl, if I did, I'd be rich, very rich. (Which I am not at the moment, which is a good reason for not suing me!)

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Nishino, Aishiteru

By SK-superpower

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Author's Note: Thank you all for the encouraging reviews! To TornadoReviewer: Well, Nishino does have a good reason for being drunk, but it's not what you think it is. I'm averaging around 1800 words per chapter, which is pretty good for me. But for Sci-Fi Raptor I'll personally make an effort to make the next chapter a longer one of at least 3000 words. On with the story!

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Chapter Four: Meeting Nishino : Part 2

Keitaro finally got to the little motel and his back was killing him. Although he did more work in Hinata Sou, trying to carry a passed out girl in the middle of Tokyo is pretty physically demanding for anyone. He was utterly exhausted once he got through the motel's front entrance.

When he walked into the lobby, the hotel's manager commented, "Looks like your girlfriend is wasted, buddy."

An exasperated Keitaro was turning into overheated mode. He blushed furiously and started shouting out random sentences.

"ARA? NO! Wait! I'm still single! No, no, and no. She isn't my girlfriend! I just picked her up from a bar when she passed out!" Keitaro was waving furiously and his face was turning into a tomato.

"Ah I see, don't get all worked up over that." the manager looked over at the girl, "She looks pretty, how much did you pay for her?"

"WHAA? NO! I'M NOT THAT TYPE OF PERSON!"

The motel manager looked at Keitaro with an amused look and said, "You must really be just one of those rare nice guys. I'll give you some hangover medicine for free, don't worry about paying for it."

Keitaro stared at the manager for a few seconds, and when realization finally settled into Keitaro's head he said, "Arigatou." with a sweatdrop.

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Keitaro went up the stairs to his room, exhausted to the point of collapsing. He reminiscened on how he worked so hard at Hinata Sou, cleaning the whole Inn roof to basement in just a few hours. All at the demand of the girls. A short wave of bitterness went through him, but he remembered that he brought that upon himself, so there was no one to blame but himself.

The door creaked open as he stumbled in with the girl on his back. With the last droplet of strength that he had, Keitaro managed to dump the girl on the bed as he collapsed onto the floor.

Keitaro was panting as if he had ran a 20 mile decathalon in a hour. With noticible sweat glistening, and utmost regret on not getting a ground floor room, he got up and flopped into the nearest chair he could find.

'What did I just do?'

Keitaro took a quick glance at the sleeping girl. She was pretty, but even more beautiful when sleeping. Her short strands of blonde hair lightly streaked her face and barely concealed it. Her skin had a texture that looked soft, and problably felt soft. Her eyes were closed, a veil for the two jewels that tell the true emotions of a person.

'Aii, she looked so sad in the bar. I wonder why she looked that way. Maybe I can heal her sorrows. Grandma Hina always said that giving is better than recieving. Yeah, I'll make this my new promise, to heal this girl's troubles and sorrows! First thing to do: find out what's her name!'

Keitaro sweatdropped in his mind when he came to the realization that he didn't even know the girl's name. What a selfless guy, devoting himself to help a person that he doesn't even know.

Sitting in his chair, constantly adjusting his position so he won't be sore when he wakes up, Ketaro uncomfortably slept.

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There was a knock on the door. Maybe just a few at first, but it eventually evolved into hard and insistent pounding on the door. Keitaro was just beginning to stir, he took a look at his watch.

"4 AM, who's pounding on the door at 4 AM?" Keitaro whispered to himself.

He got up, and said to the closed door, "Hold on, I'm coming."

When he got to the door, he unlocked the lock with a small click, but he was in for a surprise when he opened the door.

"POLICE! Put your hands up and behind your head! Move away from the girl!" 4 policemen and policewomen quickly ran into the room with less-than-lethal weapons aimed at Keitaro.

"WHAT? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!", Keitaro waved his hands up and down with each word.

"Put your hands up and behind you head!"

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

With his time to comply to the police officer's demands, a police woman pulled the trigger on her taser gun which released a small explosion within the cartridge, which propelled two small, but powerful, electrodes towards Keitaro. The electrodes snaked their way through the air, with a small mist trail formed by miniscule water droplets in the air coming into contact with the electrodes, coming into contact with Keitaro's t-shirt, pushing a few strands away and piercing his skin, allowing the electricity to run into his blood and his body.

"Yaaaaaa!"

His muscles contracted, paralyzing him for the moment. With every second seemingly extended into hours, he watched himself slowly fall down onto the floor, unable to move. The shock of the electricity caused Keitaro to black out by the time his head hit the floor. It wasn't a pleasant sight to see Keitaro with drool dripping from the sides of his mouth as he was handcuffed and then taken down the motel stairs, out the lobby, and into a police car.

The motel manager looked out the open doors of the small motel and sighed. "I knew that kid looked too innocent."

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Keitaro woke up in a Tokyo police station. Or to be more accurate, in a jail cell at a Tokyo police station. He stumbled about in the cell, grabbing the jail cell bars in a cliched and comical fashion. His head was wedged between two bars and he also had his hands grabbing the bars on opposite sides of his head.

On cue, he looked at the policeman outside, who was leaning in a swivel chair while typing something on a computer on a desk, and said in a pleading fashion, "Let me out! I'm innocent! I didn't do anything wrong!"

With a disgusted look, the police officer said, "Right, sleeping with a girl that didn't give her consent is perfectly legal."

"I didn't do anything! I just took her to the motel and I slept in the chair!"

"When the test results come in, the girl will decide whether to press or drop any charges."

Keitaro just sagged into his small cell. Shaking his head furiously, 'I know I didn't do anything. I know I didn't do anything.'

Keitaro waited in the jail cell for about an hour before a door opened outside his jail cell. In came that pretty girl that he carried out of the bar. She looked even more beautiful when she wasn't drunk, but her sparkling eyes still had a pained look inside of them. Keitaro knew that it was his mission to heal them.

He heard the pretty girl and the police officer talk for a while, only catching small tibits of their conversation. After 15 minutes or so, the police officer went over to him and unlocked the door, "You're free now, you're innocent of any wrongdoing, sorry about the wait kid."

"Oh thank you!" Keitaro bowed down low many times. He didn't even notice the pretty girl guiding his steps outside the police station.

"So, what's your name?"

Keitaro jumped at the pretty girl's voice, almost too scared to talk.

"Umm...uhhh...K-Keitaro U-u-ura--Urashima."

Inside he thought, 'Ahh, her voice sounds just like an angel's, I wonder what's troubling her all the time...'

"Let's go in here to talk for a bit, concerning what happened last night."

"H-hai."

The pretty girl led Keitaro into a small Japanified Starbucks. There were a few empty tables, the kind you'd often see in any Starbucks. A couple were seated in the back giggling with each other, while a teenager with some soda sitting on his table was typing away furiously on his Sony VAIO laptop. (A/N: That would be me.)

'Ok, this doesn't look like a place where she could actually make a scene...would she?'

"Hey, Urashima-san, it's your turn to order."

"Oh, please, don't call me Urashima-san, it makes me sound too old. You can just call me Keitaro." he said with a goofy smile, "Eto...eto...I'll just have some iced tea."

The girl and Keitaro got their drinks and sat down at a table by the large window. There was a bit of silence between the two for a short while, they just studied each other for a little bit.

"My name is Nishino Tsukasa, Keitaro-san. What I want to know from you, is what happened last night in that motel."

Keitaro quickly glanced up at her face and said, "Well, nothing happened between us two. We were at the same bar, before I took you to the hotel, and you were sitting right beside me."

"Ok, I think I remember that."

"Well, you were so drunk, you passed out at the bar and people immediately assumed that I was your boyfriend or something when you called me 'Honey'."

"What?"

"Yes, that's what you did"

"Hmmm...it sort of makes sense..." Nishino said quietly to herself.

"After that, I had to carry you to the motel and I just dumped you on the bed while I slept on the chair. That's the story, plain and simple. No interaction happened between us."

"Ok, you sound legitimate enough."

"Umm, may I ask you how the police found me?"

"Oh, my former boyfriend's aunt just saw you carrying me when she was looking for me. And she followed you to that motel and then called the police."

"Oh..."

There was some more silence between the two as they quitely took sips from their drinks. Keitaro was studying Nishino's face while she was looking out the window. Little droplets of rain started to tap on the glass.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Keitaro-san."

Keitaro quickly shook his head and a slight blush formed on his cheeks. "Oh? It was nothing, really, it was what I had to do." He quickly took sudden intrest in his drink.

Nishino shifted her seating so her whole body was facing Keitaro. "So, I heard that you were pretty much thrown out of that motel after the incident with the police. Do you need a place to stay?"

Keitaro glanced up, "What?"

"I said, do you need a place to stay?"

"Ummm, yes?"

Inside, Keitaro was thinking, 'What is she going to say? Is she offering me to stay with her!' Keitaro could just feel the blood rushing up to his head.

"Well, I do have a place for you to stay. Just a small apartment across from mine, you do deserve it. It's my way of thanking you."

Keitaro could only stare at her, his brain was now functioning in safe mode.

'Wait, I just heard her tell me that I could live with her. No, wait, live across from her. Almost the same thing. What to do? I must be the luckiest man in the world at the moment. I'm going to live across from her...'

Nishino was a little confused, "Hello? Anyone in there? May I have a response?" it was like talking to a statue.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Keitaro quicky stood up on his seat and said, "HAI!"

Nishino looked up at Keitaro, who was in a ridiculous pose. She giggled and said, "Ok. I'll contact the landlord." with a small smile.

'He's pretty funny, maybe I can see him as a replacement for Manaka.' was the only thought that came to her mind. 'Manaka, what should I do? You always wanted me to be happy...' She looked through the window, rain was now pound pretty hard against it, a small sad look crossed her face.

Keitaro looked down at her from his perch, thinking, 'I have to figure out what's making her so sad all the time, I have to.'

Author's Note: FINALLY! I can type Nishino instead of "the pretty girl"! The pain is going away!

Well, I seem to have a small feeling that this story is starting to sound really corny, but that's how Keitaro is, at least in my perception of his personality. This'll be better later on, I'm currently waging a debate in my head whether to replace "drama" with "humor" for the moment.

PLEASE REVIEW!

: Note this message! Reviews keep me going, like how electricity is used by a motor. If you do not review and pull the plug on my motor, I cannot write. It pains me too much to write pointless words that nobody will read and appreciate. Thank you.