Love Hina - It's Not Enough
It's Not Enough[R]
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson

Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...

Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.

Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawkyahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at http:hawksgalaxy.com or by clicking on my handle up above.

"speech"
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers
/thoughts/
/telepathy/
translation
soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV

Author Notes

For some bloody stupid reason, ff.net has recently begun to insist on stripping my fics of various symbols, which I only noticed just now. This makes it a bit hard to read, as I use these symbols quite often. I'll try to get my lazy ass in gear and update my homepage some rainy day, so if it get's too annoying to suddenly have what is supposed to be sound-effects show up in the middle of spoken sentences, you can try to cruise my site in a week or two and see if I don't have uploaded versions of my fics that haven't been stripped of things which are supposed to be there.

Annoyed Author Out

Previously, on 'It's Not Enough'


"Uh, there's... Well... I... Eh... We... Eh... We, really should, eh, y'know... Talk?" Keitaro stuttered out.

"And we will, Urashima-san." Motoko replied. "I'll just... I'll just take a bath and then we can..." she said, then swallowed nervously before she continued. "Talk."

"All right." Keitaro agreed, too nervous and skittish to do anything but agree to her suggestion.

"Your room in..." Motoko started, then recalled that his room was where the event had taken place. "Eh, my room in, half an hour? Will that work for you, Urashima-san?" she inquired.

"Yes. Thank you, Motoko." Keitaro responded, wondering just how long she were going to keep up with that 'Urashima-san' business she started with after they... He didn't like it, not one bit. He liked it better during those few occasions when he startled her or she forgot herself and just called him Urashima.

"Right... Until then, then..." she responded, then hurriedly made her way down the stairs, leaving behind a very confused and nervous young man who felt as if the apocalypse was rapidly approaching and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Roll credits





Chapter Five:


tock tock tock

"You may enter." Motoko intoned formally, though her voice cracked a bit, revealing just how nervous she was.

No one, absolutely no one, was allowed to see that Aoyama Motoko was anything other then the ultimate warrior. Even if she technically wasn't allowed to be one at the moment. No one was allowed to witness her being anything other then an individual in control of herself and her emotions. Well, all right, perhaps she let her temper show now and then, but that wasn't a bad thing. Or so she kept telling herself. It was useful, it kept the perverts on their toes and ensured proper behavior around her.

But she'd let Keitaro see her upset, in tears, doubting herself, frustrated and depressed...

Hurting.

She'd violated him, used and abused him in the most horrible of ways and for the most selfish of reasons. He'd seen her at her absolutely lowest, when she had been as far from the perfect image of the consummate warrior as she could possibly become. He'd seen a coward, a rapist and a crying miserable wretch without a single honorable bone in her body.

He had seen that, experienced that and been victimized by it.

And yet, shown her that he was still capable of showing her great acts of kindness, offering understanding and encouragement, giving her the courage that she needed to keep on existing in this miserable world.

Keitaro had done that. Keitaro had done that for her. And for that, she owed him a debt that she doubted that she would ever be able to repay. In spite of her dishonorable actions, he still treated her like a precious friend. Motoko didn't like being indebted to anyone, least of all a man. She wasn't all that fond of knowing that she'd shown him just how fragile she really was either, shown him her vulnerabilities.

Not that there were a lot of them, of course.

Hardly any.

Nothing worth mentioning, certainly.

A mental snort at her own blustering came as a response. No matter how hard she tried to prepare herself, steel herself for this talk and rebuild her defenses, it appeared as if they would stay down. Once the walls were down, they appeared content to stay down. What had once been a construct to equal that of China's Great Wall, were but pitiful shattered shambles of their former glory. Motoko could feel tears just waiting for an opportunity to come forth. She had to bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling and if she hadn't been sitting on her legs, they would have shook from nervousity.

It appeared as if the safety she longed for, behind those defenses of hers, wasn't going to come to her easily.

Certainly not in time for this 'talk'.

The door slid aside and Keitaro stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him. A strained smile was plastered on his face as he made his way over to a small table and the pillow Motoko had put out in front of it, on the side opposite her. He struggled for a bit, but eventually managed to seat himself in a semi-comfortable position despite the cumbersome cast. He wasn't using both his crutches, she noticed. Instead he was walking with some sort of stick in his right hand, which for some very odd reason was wrapped in brown paper with two pieces of string tied around it. The second crutch was nowhere to be seen.

He managed to hobble around on his cast with reasonable speeds, even without his crutches if need be. But it was a serious hindrance when sitting down, going to the bathroom and hundreds of other little situations he'd usually never have to think twice about before he acquired the cast.

"T-tea?" Motoko inquired, then cleared her throat. "Tea, Urashima-san?" she repeated.

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks." he stuttered out in reply, then watched in silence as Motoko poured them each a cup of tea with unsteady hands, just barely managing to prevent herself from making a mess of things.

Keitaro slowly put the cup to his lips and sipped from the hot liquid, wondering just how to go about having this conversation with Motoko. Heck, he didn't even know where to start. He had been so focused on trying to get Motoko to talk with him, that he hadn't taken the time to ponder just how to go about the conversation. In the end, he figured that he should start with what her sister had said. Perhaps that would get her into a better mood and with a little luck, the rest of the conversation would follow naturally from there?

Ha!

It was unlikely, he knew, but it was worth a shot. Besides, he didn't have any better ideas and Motoko didn't appear to be about to take command of the conversation. She seemed fine with staring at the floor while sipping from her own cup.

"Y-you know, I bumped into your sister before... Before... Well, before..." Keitaro started, trailing off, as he just couldn't bring herself to speak of the incident just yet. But by the way Motoko blanched, he guessed that she knew what he was talking about none the less. "I-it was just after you ran off after hearing us up on the roof and I pulled your... Hrm! Well, just after that." he continued, blushing furiously as he recalled storming off after Motoko and trying to save her from a nasty fall, only to have his hand grab her panties, pulling them down. The view had been nice, no doubt about that, but it hadn't exactly helped to calm the distraught Motoko down.

He rubbed his jaw, that Red Lotus Fist she pummeled him with as punishment had really been something! It wasn't a Naru-punch by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly showed that Motoko had some impressive skill in unarmed combat as well as armed combat.

"A-any-anyway, she told me that she wanted you to defeat her. Well, you and me, actually. Though I don't know what she thinks I will be able to do against someone like her." Keitaro explained and shook his head. "Perhaps she's so scared of your true abilities, that she wants me around to hamper your fighting or something. Hehehe..." Keitaro added, attempting to add a little humor to the situation, but failed miserably as Motoko was still pale and staring at the floor. "Apparently, she believes that your history together and you happening upon her and her husband kissing, caused you to loose sight of your objective as a warrior. That the loss of your idol and teacher stunted your growth as a swordswoman." Keitaro finished, staring up at the roof as he recalled his conversation with Motoko's beautiful older sister.

"She gave you, gave us, a choice, Motoko. Defeat her together and win back your status as a warrior, or you'll have to live forever as a 'normal' girl." Keitaro continued after taking a sip from his tea, looking over at Motoko who had at his latest revelation finally looked up from the ground, looking at him with hope shining in her eyes. "H-ho-however, there's... Something... Else..." he started and swallowed nervously, taking another sip from his cup. "If we don't fight her, or, if we l-loose... Then she want us to take responsibility for the lies we told her and... Gulp And... Swallow And... Cough Meaningthatshewantsmetotakeyouasmybride." Keitaro finished in a strained whisper.

"That's... Impossible." Motoko sighed and the hope in her eyes died out. "My sister is... Invincible. She cannot be beaten. Not by me." she admitted and slumped forward, her gaze once again falling to the floor.

"Motoko... This isn't you, this isn't the Motoko I know. You may have lost one battle, but that's no reason to give up. You never have before! No matter how many times you failed in the past, you kept at it until you succeeded, didn't you? Remember when you learned the secret of Zannma-Ken, Nino Tachi? Where's the perseverance you showed me then?" Keitaro retorted and Motoko looked up from the ground again. "Where's the Motoko who learned that trying too hard won't get you anywhere? Where's the Motoko that learned how to enjoy herself and succeed through that? Where's the Motoko who won't be defeated by anyone or anything?"

Keitaro awkwardly scrambled up onto his foot and cast, then wobbled over towards Motoko and put his right hand on top of her head.

"Your sister is waiting for you in Kyoto. What will it be, Motoko? Are you going to fight like the warrior you are, or will you live out the rest of your life as a normal girl?" Keitaro inquired.

"I... But... This... I can't..." Motoko sighed. "My sword is broken." she whimpered and glanced over at a stand standing on top of a dresser, where her beloved sword rested in pieces.

"Oh, that's right." Keitaro mumbled, then shambled over to the other side of the table where he picked up the odd walking stick he had been using earlier. He walked back to Motoko's side of the table and kneeled down on his unbroken leg, while his casted one was sticking out at an odd angle. "Here, Motoko. Please accept this gift and put it to good use." he said and solemnly held it out with both hands towards her.

"What... What is..." Motoko started as she hesitantly accepted it, but stopped her inquiry as she felt the familiar weight in her hands. She reverently untied the strings and slowly unwrapped the brown paper, revealing a sheathed Katana. She stared down at the weapon in stunned silence. This sword was old and cared for, she could tell. The sheath had been lovingly polished until it reflected the light nearly as well as a mirror, the guard shone and sparkled as a beam of sunlight made it's way into the room and the handle had been recently rewrapped. "It's..."

"It's an old Urashima family heirloom." Keitaro revealed. "I told my aunt about this and she took me down to the armory. Please, Motoko. Take it. Use it. We'll fight your sister and we'll win."

"No..." Motoko replied, bowed her head and handed the weapon back to Keitaro. "It's too much. I'm not worthy. Not after what I did to you. I can't accept this gift, Urashima-donno." she declined and held the weapon out on both hands towards Keitaro, a tone of respect in her voice that had never been there before.

"Don't say that, Motoko. You are worthy. You're a wonderful person." Keitaro assured her, only to see how she started to tremble and the sword fell to the ground with a noisy clatter.

"Don't say... I'm..." Motoko whimpered, struggling against her tears, before she saw the sword on the ground. "Oh, I'm sorry! Forgive me! I didn't mean to drop it! I meant no disrespect, Urashima-donno." she said, her head bowed in shame.

"Shh, I forgive you, Motoko." Keitaro said, plucking the sword up from the ground and placing it in Motoko's lap, holding it down as the girl tried to remove it from her person and hand it back to it's rightful owner.

"Damn it..." Motoko whimpered under her breath. "Why are you... Why are you doing this to me..." she whispered and looked up at him, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why are you being so nice to me? I don't deserve your kindness!" she wailed.

"Yes. Oh yes, you do deserve my kindness, Motoko-san." Keitaro protested and once again placed his hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair. "You are a wonderful, wonderful, girl, Motoko. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently." he insisted.

As his words sunk in, Motoko slumped forward and had to slam her hands against the floor to prevent herself from falling facedown against it. Her tears splattered against the floor and she started to sob out loud. /Damn it! Damn it! Why does he have to be so bloody... So bloody! So! So! So! So, Keitaro! I don't deserve this! I don't deserve to have somebody like him in my life!/ she mentally howled, then flinched as she felt him pull her up against him, wrapping his arms around her as she cried.

She tried to pull away, but was too weak to accomplish it. After only a few moments, she stopped her struggles and wrapped her arms around him, crying against his chest.

Keitaro whispered words of comfort to her, rubbing her back and caressing her hair as her sobs grew progressively worse. Her hands clutched the back of his T-shirt and before she knew it, her lips were on his and her tongue entered his mouth. She leaned against him and topped the both of them to the ground. The sudden pain in her hands, as their combined weight flattened them against the ground, made her snap out of it, however. She pulled back with a gasp at the realization of what she had done. She averted her eyes and whimpered at her own weakness.

"I'm sorry, Keitaro-donno. I almost... Again, I almost..." She tried to apologize, but couldn't get the words out. /Damn it! Why am I so weak!? I owe him so much, so much that I can never... How could I almost do... Do... Do that again! Why?!/ she mentally wailed.

"Shhh..." Keitaro attempted to soothe her. "It's okay..." he said and pulled her head down, placing a gentle kiss on her lips, before he put her head against his chest and shifted his weight, so she could pull her hands out from underneath him. "Shhh..." he repeated. She felt his hardness poking against her waist, but ignored it. Ordinarily, such a thing would have both distressed and disgusted her, but now she only felt apathy. It didn't matter. There were layers of cloth separating the two of them. It was of no concern to her.

Mayhap it was of concern to him, though. She had finally managed to get through the first volume of 'Naughty Swordmaiden Minako' and clearly recalled one passage from it, a passage where the naughty swordmaiden had given one of the male characters something referred to as 'blue balls' due to her behavior. It appeared to cause the male a large amount of distress. Was she doing the same to Keitaro? Was he suffering from that very same condition now? Was she causing him undue distress?

She flinched at that thought and hesitantly moved her left hand down, awkwardly starting to caress a now very hard piece of Keitaro's body through his trousers. He gasped and shuddered beneath her.

"M-mo-motoko?" he stuttered. "Wha-w-what are you..." he started, but cut himself off with a moan.

"I don't want you to suffer, Keitaro-donno. I'll... Swallow I'll take care of this for you." she mumbled, continuing to stroke him through his clothes. "If... If it's you, Keitaro-donno. It's okay with me." she added, stealing a line from the dirty manga.

"B-but I don't want you to Moan regret... I don't want you to regret anything, Motoko." he protested and moved his hand down to intercept hers, gently grasping her wrist.

"Anything you want, is okay with me, Keitaro-donno." she whispered. "I'll do... Anything you want." she managed to croak out in a strained tone of voice. "Please, let me do this for you..." she mumbled and moved her hand back, easily slipping out of his weak grip.

This would be her penance, she decided. She would spend the rest of her life making up for what she had done to poor Keitaro. She would protect him, she would serve him, she would turn into what she hated the most, a weak simpering girl submissive to a mans every desire.

"I... I am yours. Please, do with me what you want. I will Swallow follow your every command." Motoko admitted. "Keitaro-sama, I am yours." she finished, shedding silent tears against his chest and changing her mode of address to an even more respectful one.

"M-m-m-my e-ev-e-every c-command?" Keitaro squeaked out.

"Yes, Keitaro-sama. Your every command." she affirmed.

"T-then..." he started and to her surprise, she felt him grab her wrist again and pull her hand away from what it had been doing. He took a deep shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a few moments, then slowly got them both up until they were sitting up again. She kneeling between his legs and silently awaiting whatever command he would have for her. "Then I want you to stop acting like this, Motoko." he finally said, causing her head to whip up and her gaze to lock onto his, with a shocked expression on her face. "I want the old Motoko back." he revealed and reached up with a hand to caress her cheek.

"I want the Motoko who would yell at me for being a pervert, if I did something like this. I want the Motoko whom would never utter the words 'Keitaro-donno' or 'Keitaro-sama'. I want the strong, relentless Motoko, who wouldn't accept defeat at the hands of anyone. I want the Motoko who would fight with all her strength for what she believes in. I want the proud Motoko, I want the girl from a week ago." he explained. "I want my Motoko back." he finished and removed his hand from her cheek.

"I... I can't..." Motoko protested.

"Anything I want? My every command?" Keitaro gently reminded her. "You have my forgiveness, because there was never anything to forgive. Please, just do this one last thing for me. Become the Motoko of old again, fight your sister. Win!" he urged her on.

"It's impossible..." Motoko whimpered.

"Please. For me?" Keitaro countered and Motoko slumped again, hugging herself as she let out a low wail and one last sob. She shuddered for several seconds, before she let her arms fall down to her lap. She stared at the ground for several seconds, before her right arm rose and she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears out of her eyes. Then she looked up at him again, a weak smile on her lips and moisture in her eyes.

"I-I'll try..." Motoko agreed. "For you, I'll try."

The End! ( For now... )