Disclaimer: If I really had owned Love Hina, would I be writing this drivel? I don't own Love Hina and I'm just using the characters for my twisted amusement
Author's notes: I want to thank the anonymous reviewer for informing me about the entire sword issue. Well since it's my story I guess I have to come up with a reasonable answer why swords are suddenly illegal to carry around. And Motoko's also been arrested for drawing a weapon in public. Oh,well… Might as well make up a retcon gimmick then. Dear readers, I must inform you that I'm making an alternative universe progression where in this fic it'll be the first time Tsuroko arrives at the Hinata-sou.
Chris Oddland presents: No More Mr. Nice Guy
or Keitaro Urashima's diabolical revenge
Chapter 5: Sisterly Supervision or It's Good Being the Elder Sibling
Tsuroko grumbled about something having to do with hanging someone upside-down over a pit of ravenous turtles as she walked over to the police station. This anger was directed towards her younger sister Motoko who had been arrested by the police for unsheathing a blade in public, attempted murder and resisting arrest. A new, harsher law had been adopted against the carrying weapons in public because of the atrocities committed by a sociopathic martial artist who suddenly drew his katana and started killing innocent civilians out on the streets of Tokyo causing a media uproar around the country and in the Diet that resulted in this new law being put into motion. This of course caused a stir among the martial artists who brought their complaint to the courts and the media to remove it. Rumours of planned clandestine riots by martial artists and their sympathizers were heard on the streets during this time. In the end the ban was revoked and replaced with a new one where it became illegal to carrying weapons with intent to harm, some say it was because there really was some grain of truth in the street rumours. Needless to say this strained the relations between martial artist and the police and normal people more than before.
She walked in the direction of the police station where her little sister was locked up securely.
Keitaro woke up in his room; grateful over that he had survived the entire ordeal yesterday. He had been sure that he was a goner when Naru appeared and that he would either end up in jail or six feet under the earth. Luckily it didn't happen.
He smiled as he thought about the entire thing. It had been…. nice to dance with Shinobu and Mutsumi. Even dancing with Su had been enjoyable.
He got dressed and went to the living room.
Kitsune stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She frowned since she didn't like what she saw. The bandages lay discarded on the floor beside.
Pimples and lots of them, including a few blotches of acne as well. And she thought she was done with that experience a few years ago.
She then placed a hand on her scalp. She sighed a sigh of relief as she saw that it was slowly beginning to recover from the burns. A few strands of hair were now beginning to show up again.
Both she and Naru had been doggone tired after experienced one of the most terrifying rides of their lives at the hands of Kazuyo the taxi driver. The worst had been when she decided to take a shortcut by using a ramp to jump over a small river instead of using the bridge nearby.
Both she and Naru thought they were going to die.
Luckily they survived. And when they were home at the Hinata Inn they passed out on their beds out of sheer mental exhaustion.
"I wonder if Su can make a cure for pimples and acne?" She murmured to herself. Hopefully she wouldn't turn green if she took it.
Despite that it hadn't turned out like she expected it would, she was happy nonetheless. She hummed as she prepared breakfast.
Shinobu Maehara hummed a cheerful tune.
While it had not turned out as romantic as she expected it had been a nice evening.
She still some pangs of guilt over spiking a punch bowl with Su's LSD Surprise. The newspapers and the police still hadn't found out that she was the culprit.
"Born to raise hell…. Born to raise hell… We know how to do it and we do it real well…" Keitaro sang as he entered the living room. It was a catchy tune performed by Motörhead after all.
"Good morning, Sempai!" he heard Shinobu call out from the kitchen. "Could you prepare the table while I finish with breakfast?" He heard her ask him.
"Sure." Keitaro answered and walked over to the kitchen.
Naru woke up, groaning as she touched the bruises on her head. She got dressed and wiped her glasses.
The feeling of rejection yesterday still hurt. She still couldn't understand why Keitaro had put down the offer to dance with her. He had danced with Mutsumi and Shinobu after all. Her brain formed the mental images of him dancing with the two. It made her both seething with anger and sorrowful at the same time.
Like always she had to deal with her hate-love feelings towards the one she saw a clumsy pervert every day.
And most of the time, like now, it was rage which filled her with its flames.
Yep, she was angry all right. A sure sign that he should avoid her today for his health's sake.
It was a strange feeling which Kaolla Su despite her intelligence couldn't describe. It was something beyond her comprehension.
This strange feeling had something to do with her "playmate" Keitaro Urashima, whom she liked to "play with" using various inventions and weaponry.
Kaolla Su had slept well this night. At first she had felt sad and miserable, but somehow Keitaro being just Keitaro had managed to make her happy. When he had left after dancing with her, something just welled up in her. A strange yet warm feeling that was both soothing and startling to her.
While Keitaro did slightly resemble the one she regarded as an elder sibling back home, Keitaro was a different person than him. True Keitaro had his faults, but he could display such kindness that moved everyone in the Hinata-sou. That and that it was fun to kick him around just for kicks.
Kaolla climbed up on of the many large tree branches and began to muse as she laid herself down.
The police chief looked very sceptical at Tsuroko Aoyma, wearing kendo garbs, who was sitting in a chair in front of his desk and him behind said desk.
"You again," he grumbled in irritation. "I take it you're here to fetch your homicidal sibling, who is locked up tight and securely, in prison."
He was an average looking middle-aged man, with short dark hair which was beginning to show signs of greyness. He had no moustache or a beard for that matter; on the other hand he had an aura of severe grimness and cynicism surrounding him.
"Believe me," Tsuroko sighed in frustration and embarrassment simultaneously, "sometimes I really wonder what the heck is going on in that head of hers."
"Maybe it has to do with the anachronistic, romanticist feudal age indoctrination and brainwashing you Aoyamas are so fond?" The chief replied acidly.
Tsuroko's eyes flashed briefly in anger over the remark, but her self-control made her able to maintain a neutral expression on her face.
The police chief chuckled evilly over having managed to stir up negative emotions in the swordswoman in front of him. His stare then turned grim as he said: "Believe me, 'Aoyama', there's no love lost between us. If I had my way I'd lock up all you loony so-called 'martial artists' or whatever you chose to call yourselves and throw away the key and leave you all to rot." He clenched his hands which rested on the armrests on his chair. "You people have no respect for law and order, or those you see as beneath you."
"Lucky for you that I had to leave my sword with the policeman outside," Tsuroko said coldly. The police chief always brought out the worst in her every time they met.
"Lucky for you that you did. Seeing that I'm hiding a fully loaded 12-gauge shotgun under my desk." The police chief replied with a sarcastic smile.
The man placed his hands under the desk. Tsuroko could clearly hear the sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked.
Despite being a hardcore swordswoman and an experienced duellist, Tsuroko suddenly got a lump in her throat as well as an inner voice telling her not to agitate the guy in front of her.
"I'll be honest with you and tell you that I'm not exactly a very nice person," He said nonchalantly.
"Something I know from our earlier encounters," Tsuroko answered, wondering if the chief had suddenly snapped and if he wanted to turn her into mincemeat with the loaded weapon he was holding.
"Relax, Aoyama," the police chief answered as he lifted up his arms and dumped the shotgun on the desk as if he was simply dumping a load of documents on it.
Tsuroko sighed in relief. "For a moment I thought you were going to kill me."
"Even if I can't stand you, you still are one of the few martial artists who try not to overstep the boundaries of the law," he admitted. "But if you ever endanger any civilians or any of my men you will answer to me and Mr. Splat!" He had a serious predatorial look in his eyes as he patted the shotgun with his right hand.
"'Mr. Splat?'"
"'Splat' is usually the sound he makes when I blow the limbs off martial artist with him."
Despite his clear antagonism, Tsuroko could understand the bitterness and rage he harboured against martial artists. The man had lost many good men and friends during clashes with martial artists. He was also one of the few survivors of the clash with the sociopathic female martial artist calling herself Death Dancer. He killed the crazed maniac in self-defence, but was unable to prevent the death of over half of the two squads, while the rest were maimed for life by her skills with the blade
"I need to call in a favour," Tsuroko interrupted, not wanting to continue bantering with him.
"A favour," he huffed sourly, "I was wondering when you were going to call in those favours we owed you for your 'assistance' in various cases."
"I've saved your life on some occasions." She added.
"True," he admitted sincerely. His eyes suddenly had a serious tone, "My guess is that we are to release your younger sister."
"Yes." Tsuroko simply said.
"It will be hard to keep the media in the dark and brush the case aside." He stated objectively.
"I have just this one favour to ask of you and the police." Tsuroko said to him as her face took on a sad, almost pleading look, "After that you owe me nothing."
The chief chuckled, "So I just have to do you this little teensy favour you ask of me and then all the debts are over?"
"Yes! Is it so hard to understand! Damn you!" Tsuroko roared and slammed her clenched fists on the desk. All the stress. All the humiliation she had suffered on the way here. Everything which she had kept bottled up inside her was finally reaching the boiling point.
The police chief remained unfazed of the swordswoman's stunt, still remaining his sinister calmness despite knowing what she was capable of.
"Only this one time will I do what you ask me of." He declared almost silently to her without blinking. "Only once and nevermore."
Breakfast in the Hinata-sou was nice enough, except the fact that one of the tenants was missing. And that Naru for some reason was giving him the cold shoulder over another mistaken slight (as usual).
Keitaro sighed as he continued eating his meal. (Another day in paradise, huh?) his sub-consciousness quipped with the friendliness of a charging rhinoceros wanting to imbed its horn through his stomach and then tap dance on his cooling corpse and then do the cancan with stiletto-heeled shoes.
"Does anyone want some water?" He then asked, holding up the water mug.
"Yes, please," Mitsune "Kitsune" Konno answered, holding up her empty glass.
"Me too!" exclaimed a more happier-than-usual Kaolla Su, holding up hers as well.
Naturally Keitaro complied, filling both glasses with the amount both the girls wanted. His consciousness was also wondering if it was safe to try to start a conversation with Narusegawa, who was now trying to coldly ignore him. It said no.
"Myuh!" Tama said in gratefulness towards Shinobu and began eating her breakfast meal that lay in a small plate on the table. Tama's food consisted of salad, a bit of sliced tomatoes and some dandelion leaves. The tiny baby turtle seemed to enjoy it as she began munching it without any complaint.
A smile formed on Keitaro's face. Even though he at first had been unused to taking care of the tiny turtle which Mutsumi had entrusted in his care, he eventually warmed up to Tama and began to grow quite fond of her. Even though he was at times incompetent in many ways, he would always have a friend in his pet Tama.
Things didn't seem to be so bad at all this day.
(I wonder what Mutsumi is doing right now?) he suddenly thought.
Mutsumi Otohime awoke from her slumber. A usual smile on her face as usual - correction, dear readers - a somewhat more cheerful smile than usual.
She felt almost as giddy as a schoolgirl.
She got dressed and made a decent enough breakfast along with a few slices of watermelon.
Unfortunately she forgot one teensy-weensy minor detail which will be revealed soon.
"A visitor for ya, Aoyama!" the prison guard said as he unlocked the door of the reinforced steel door.
The raven-haired convict stopped playing with the sleeves of her prison suit, raising herself from the bunk which she had sat on. Anxious, almost scared dark eyes awaiting what was in store for her.
Motoko swallowed a bit heavily as she stared at her older sister.
Tsuroko had retained an indifferent aloof expression as she entered the prison cell. She walked slowly towards her little sister, her face shifting slowly as a serpent shedding its skin from indifferent tranquillity into barely controlled anger.
When she stood before her she suddenly lashed out and struck her sister in the face with a clenched fist.
Unprepared Motoko fell backwards onto the cold concrete floor with a thud.
"Get up, Motoko!" Tsuroko growled
Motoko just stared at her.
"I said get up!" Tsuroko suddenly roared.
Motoko Aoyama slowly rose, a bruise on her cheek.
"Sister, I-"
"Just shut up! I'm taking you home to your place!"
Somewhere else:
In shadowy street corner a young man smiled in amusement as he judged his arrogant adversary.
The assailant stood before him twirling his two katanas in a show-offish manner, babbling how the so-called ancient blades were wielded by his so-called great ancestors and used to slaughter hordes of demons.
Being a simple man - he just shot him without batting an eye.
The man lay groaning in pain on the ground, clutching his bleeding chest.
"Shut up! I only shot you with a measly rubber bullet." He said as he holstered his Colt Detective Special into his shoulder holster underneath his jacket.
A few minutes later the man was handcuffed to a high lamp post that had seen better days.
"Geez, don't take it so hard pal! I'll take good care of your swords until I can pawn them off in a pawn shop."
The other man started hurling insults and threats.
The grey-brown-haired man ignored him and walked away; making skipping jumps just to taunt the man behind him.
"And by the way: You'll be spending some time in prison, since I've been so nice to call the police so they can pick you up." He said without turning his head back and waving with his hand.
"I'll kill you! Honourless dog!" The cuffed man cried out in rage.
"Not in this life, small-fry!" He replied laughingly.
Rounding a few corners he came to where he had parked his car. He smiled and waved at the person sitting inside it.
"Papa?" The little girl said to him as he entered the car and stuffing the sheathed swords in the back seats. "Is everything okay?"
"Don't worry, Shizuka." He said to his young daughter with a cheerful smile, "I was just mopping up some trash out in the streets."
"Okay."
He felt a warmth inside when Shizuka flashed her father a happy smile.
"How about we go to a restaurant and buy something to eat?" He said.
"Yay! I want some Chinese food!"
"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."
They drove off as heavy metal music surged from the radio.
"…Heaven is a place on earth…." Mutsumi sung happily as she skipped through the streets of Hinata. The Okinawan girl was oblivious to the various sounds of car crashes as cars crashed into each other or walls and other objects while she made a merry twirl and continued singing like a flighty siren of unearthly beauty moving through the streets by reasons of pure whim.
Maybe it was because the tiny little thing she forgot when getting dressed was to put on a bra, resulting that all the men with more libido than reason didn't pay attention to where they were going since they had an obscure obsession with ogling jingling breasts from afar..
"Losers!" a guy on the street gave a look of hopelessness as he observed the newly created wreckages in front of him.
"I agree with you" another guy in a Dodge Challenger sporting a supercharger concurred as he slowly drove by him.
A car nearly hit Mutsumi and crashed with a metallic screech into a fire hydrant.
"Ara? Did I hear something?" she asked herself.
"Must have been your imagination," a young man said dryly to her and then returned to the book he was reading.
The walk back to the Hinata-sou had been awkwardly quiet for the two sisters. Motoko in her returned kendo garb trailed behind Tsuroko with a bowed head and a bruised cheek.
Her sister had given back her clothes, but had confiscated her blade Shisui for the time being.
Despite her controlled tranquil appearance, Motoko knew that there was a raging storm of emotions going on inside of her elder sister as she walked in a dignified manner with her own sword strapped to her side and Shisui slung firmly under her arm.
In another town a young couple were standing on a lush, green hill with their young baby, admiring the scenery they beheld. The light breeze passing by gently touched them and then disappeared after gently playing with the young woman's tresses of hair.
Of all the young women in his life he never would have thought he would fall in love with her of all girls and marry her. But he never regretted the choices in life he made that intertwined his life with hers.
He smiled as he saw the young kitten now grown to a cat meowed happily as it munched on a meat bun given to it. It took a while after arriving here, but his wife had finally relented to let him hold their infant daughter. It was so cute watching his love show her maternal side and protectiveness over the welfare of their tiny child, and it was one of the things that made him love her even more. Currently she was also eating meat buns, but with a eagerness he felt she was taking overboard as usual, but that didn't bother him except that it gave him the excuse to tease her a bit.
"Gee, dear, do you have to eat loads of meat buns on our family trip?" the young father said affectionately with a tiny smirk to his wife while rocking the baby.
"Auu! Can't you let the mother of your child enjoy herself for once!" she complained with a mock frown and stuck her tongue out at him.
The tiny baby in his arms began laughing at the sight of her mother making grimaces and waved her little arms to and fro.
"Now, now, dear," the father said to his little daughter and stroked the gently the small tufts of red-orange hair on her head, "be careful that you don't pick up your Mama's weird habits. It's bad enough that one in the family's weird."
"Auu!" she again uttered that sound that had become so familiar and affectionate to him as she stood up, walked over to him and bopped him gently on the head.
"I didn't feel anything." It was true since he had felt no pain at all.
"Jeez! Just wait till we get home!" He thought the pout she made then was adorable.
Keitaro Urashima lay peacefully on the couch.
(Might as well reminiscence some classics,) he thought as he peered through the pages of his slightly worn old-edition Essential X-Men: Volume 4 collection of early X-Men stories. He wished that he had found the sought after classic God Loves, Man Kills story for his private collection, but alas it seemed here that it was as rare as owl's teeth.
The very much hypocritical Silver Samurai reminded him of a certain Motoko Aoyama he thought as he flipped through the pages. He hoped she would stay out of his hair for a while longer since it had become more peaceful and not to mention safer after she went and got herself arrested. Keitaro concluded that glue was a wonderful invention when you used it for the right cause like applying it on the swordhandle of a certain kendoist. It went better than he'd imagined it would.
He switched to one of his Essential Tomb of Dracula volumes after a while, enjoying seeing how Rachel Van Helsing and Quincey Harker matched wits with the lord of the undead and how they many times became entangled in the numerous conflicts between the prince of darkness and other evil beings like the sinister webs patiently weaved by Doctor Sun and his many loyal minions.
After a while the young manager decided that it was time for those tedious chores. Luckily he had bought a mop this time to avoid ending up with an aching back after cleaning the floors of the former inn turned dormitory. He still remembered the time he lay bedridden in his futon for half a day with his back aching like if Naru had decided to tap dance on it with steel stiletto heels. And in fact Narusegawa did do something to him that day like a "playful and loving" kick to the side (hard), since she had judged him to be lazing off. Having the invulnerability that rivalled that of a main battle tank's resistance to damage came in handy when living under the roof of the inn-turned-dormitory since he would've been dead and buried ages ago if he didn't. At least Shinobu had been nice enough to give him some rice porridge when bedridden and now also aching from Narusegawa's foot that day. Narusegawa later was heard screaming in pain when discovering that the bra she just put on without really looking was crawling with not-so-friendly ants. He could have sworn he saw a demoniac grimace of glee for a about a second on the tiny chef's face before returning to her task of feeding him.
"I guess I never was much into tradition," Keitaro murmured to himself as he went to fetch the cleaning supplies but suddenly stopped as the piece of organic machinery called the brain started working on its own initiative.
Maybe he could hide that bed of nails from India that Seta gave to aunt Haruka under Narusegawa's unrolled futon one night and hear what happens in his room under. Funny how his neurotic obsession with her was like a masochistic Prince Barin pining after a bipolar Princess Aura with recurring fits of madness and still asking for more even when being more dead than alive. He was worse off than Flash Gordon for certain when it came to women and peril on a daily basis. Then he looked upward at where the poster was taped over the hole in the ceiling and on on impulse went and fetched the bed of nails and placed it approximately under the ceiling poster.
"Now where are those bottles of detergent…"
Walking back to the Hinata-sou Shinobu Maehara smiled as she looked at the two movie tickets in her hand she had gotten cheaply.
(With a bit of luck Sempai will come with me to the matinee marathon!) The young girl blushed furiously at the thought of her and Urashima-sempai sitting next to each other watching various old films in English with subtitles. Hopefully there weren't any spooky ones or she would probably cling to Keitaro in fright, but the prospect of holding onto him made her heart beat a bit faster. She heard they were showing Jason and the Argonauts and Clash of the Titans and she was eager to watch them after hearing a loud recommendation by a classmate to the rest of class that they were amazing for being so old and despite of the limitations of special effects compared to the present.
"Give me the sense to wonder...To wonder if I'm free...Give me a sense of wonder...To know I can be me...Give me the strength to hold my head up...Spit back in their face...Don't need no key to unlock this door...Gonna break down the walls...Break out of this bad place..." Keitaro sung to himself to keep himself cheerful while fulfilling his chore.
Sometimes he wondered why he didn't flee howling in horror from the dormitory, running down the stone stairs with eyes filled with fright as if having witnessed a blasphemous and unfathomable monstrosity that blasted his mind into an oblivion of infinite madness while froth and foam dribbled from his shrieking, gibbering mouth. Most sane men certainly would've ended up doing that, so why didn't he? Either he had the patience and resilience of a saint or he was denser than a brick repeatedly hammered by a man with a sledgehammer and afterwards having a bundle of dynamite stuck under it or he clearly he had lost what sanity he had. Maybe all the blows to the head really had affected his sense of judgement.
"Ah, it's so peaceful right now!" Keitaro sighed happily, "Sometimes I wish these respites would last for eternity."
"But that would make things boring," Mitsune "Kitsune" Konno interjected with a smile through the openings of her re-bandaged head.
"When did you show up?" Keitaro groaned. As he dunked the head of the mop into the bucket.
"Oh, for about a few minutes ago." was the answer.
"I thought we'd gone through this days ago – no alcoholic beverages until you're well, and that's final."
Mitsune's lips twisted to a pout. "Aw, Goddammit! I'm going to die of abstinence!"
"It could've been worse, Kitsune. You could've been put in my shoes," Keitaro tried to assure her.
"Touché!" Mitsune replied, becoming thoughtful over that she compared to the clumsy manager was better off than him since she didn't have the remarkable toughness to endure punishment…and she wasn't keen to see if she could.
"I would've asked you to help me if you weren't hurt; and you'd probably decline if you were well if I know you correctly."
"I'm hurt," the fox-like maiden said in a mock hurt manner.
"No, you enjoy seeing me get hurt." Keitaro pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Ouch! That smarts!" Mitsune sarcastically quipped and took on her fox-like smile.
(Maybe I shouldn't tell her that it seems creepy when she does it with her head and face covered in bandages.) Keitaro thought with a shudder. But he had to admit that sometimes when she usually made that tempting quirky smile of hers his heart would skip a beat and his face would feel warmer than normal.
"Where's Su-chan? I haven't seen her around." It was nice to not be on the receiving end of a foot to the face, but he did care about the wellbeing of the hyperactive girl (when she didn't get on his nerves or deal grievous bodily harm).
"She's in her room. Said something about making an invention meant for you."
"Eep!" Keitaro uttered in panic as goose bumps were forming on his skin.
"My guess is the same as yours: it's not going to be nice."
(I remember the time she constructed a hidden missile silo carrying intercontinental ballistic missiles inside her room that went up to the roof. It became a real mess when the authorities found out and I had to do everything in my power to persuade them from deporting Su-chan or throw her in jail.) Keitaro thought. Or that time she made a radio control model of the HMS Hood that actually packed miniature-scaled armaments of an Admiral-class battlecruiser when she took it for a joyride in the park pond and proceeded to sink all those couples in their wooden rowboats despite being dwarfed completely by them in an effort to blast Tama-chan to oblivion. He had to act as a bodyguard and human shield afterwards, having to literally shield her from packs of drenched lovers wielding oars and planks with murder in their eyes while running away.
In Sakakino City the appearance of a grey DMC-12 DeLorean parking outside the city hospital was an unusual sight, seeing that the model was old, the car foreign and that the manufacturer closed down a long time ago. The irony wasn't lost on a few who recognized the sound of Huey Lewis and the News playing Back in Time from the car audio.
The age of the two exiting the vehicle and into the parking lot was also surprisingly unexpected. The pair were adolescent, a young man and woman dressed in casual clothes; clearly under the age allowed to operate automobiles. A protruding, swollen stomach clearly indicated that the young woman was pregnant and the caring behaviour of her companion did reveal him to be the father.
"Wow! Can that car really travel back in time?" A very young boy admiring the vehicle asked the driver.
"Nope!" He smiled at him. "If it did I'd travel back and pick a gold mine clean....and probably face the consequences of altering time after reaping my rewards." He added jokingly.
The boy was then hushed back by his parents.
"Come on, dear!" the young woman tugged his arm with a smile while straightening her hair to remove the stray lock up hair that was springing out like an antenna and sticking out. The attempt failed as it sprung up again as a jack-in-the-box who refused to stay down.
A police officer frowned at the pair, observing their age. And then shouted: "Hey, you!" and walked hastily towards them with a frown on her face. Placing herself between them and the car, she stared daggers at the two.
"Okay, let's see your driver's license and other ID! 'Cause I clearly believe that you're not at the allowed age to drive!"
"What car?" the girl said innocently and made a confused look.
"Don't play me for a fool!" the officer barked at her, distracting her attention on the boy.
"Why don't you look behind you then?" the girl then suggested.
"As if I'm going to fall for that!" she declared and turned to face the car. Her eyes fell on the suddenly empty parking spot.
"What? How!" the police officer uttered in disbelief.
"Must've been you're imagination, officer." the boy said, looking a lot paler than before and
sweating. "If you'll excuse us, me and my wife have an appointment with the doctor.
"But it was there?" the confused police officer mumbled to herself. "It couldn't possibly have vanished into thin air?" She ignored the pair who walked away towards the hospital entryway. The young man stopped for moment to wink at the equally surprised young boy and his parents who seemed paralyzed by what they had witnessed, before continuing onwards.
"That's the last time I let you talk me into driving you in some fancy vehicle, and we're not even allowed to drive yet. Next time we'll take a cab!" the young man complained and wiped off the sweat on his brow as they entered.
"What can I say. Sometimes a girl likes travelling in style." She flashed him a mischievous, teasing smile. Seconds later she winced.
"Seems like the baby has a mean kick." the young man said as he tried to comfort her.
"Yeah, it has." she admitted. "By the way: have you turned off your mobile phone?" she then asked.
A look of sudden realization formed on his face. "Oops!" He then stuck his hand into a pocket on his jacket and pullet out the mobile and promptly turned it off.
She laughed sweetly. "Oh, dear! Sometimes you can be so absent-minded!"
"I guess I'm a lucky guy to have you around then?" He smiled and then the two walked arm-in-arm to the reception area while humming the Dr. Who theme song..
"Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once…"
In an effort to both relax and calm himself down at the same time Keitaro Urashima was watching television and enjoying the hilarious misadventures of René Artois and the rest of the cast of the British comedy series 'Allo 'Allo!. His stepsister Kanako had once recommended this foreign series and when he watched it for the first time as a teen he understood wholeheartedly why she loved it, even though only having watched a handful of episodes and never having the time to watch the rest. The episode that tempted him into watching the series was an episode named The Jet Propelled Mother-In-Law. Staring at the live television screen he began to think about Kanako and wondered how his sister was doing in his absence. Hopefully she wasn't dressing herself up as Michelle Dubois and doing a lot of shady things like blowing stuff up and hatching farfetched plots.
Figures that Narusegawa and Kitsune were off to visit Seta during this time of available visiting hours in the prison he was locked up in. He was considering getting Sarah out of that orphanage she had been temporarily incarcerated in due to her young age, almost. There were times he was considering really hating that little monster when things really got bad, but he couldn't bring himself to harm that child despite that, even if the temptation was getting stronger and stronger every time she clobbered him. Her temporary residence was probably punishment enough for now.
The sound of the doorbell ringing broke from him from reminiscing on the past and drove to almost automatically shuffle to the front doorway. He hoped it was Kimiaki Shirai who had promised to lend him that doujinshi volume about a washed-out magical girl turned alcoholic and drug abuser who sets up on her quest to discover who is assassinating all the magical girls in the country and finds herself trapped in the webs of a hidden conspiracy that threatened all of South-East Asia while being forced to join with forces with her most hated arch-nemesis, a former minion of the stereotypical dark forces in usual magical girl stories who, controversially enough, had become a reckless gunman vigilante targeting child abusers and child prostitution rings and dispatching them in a hail of blazing guns and now named himself Pazuzu after the Sumerian demon of myth. The writer and artist had clearly been inspired by works of controversial western comic writers like Alan Moore and Frank Miller in their grim depictions and narrations.
When he opened the door he was quickly shocked. He probably knew how Peter Parker felt when he discovered that now there were two dangerous alien symbiotes instead of just one symbiote and that the rollercoaster ride of death with Venom and Carnage had just begun.
Motoko Aoyama was on the loose and standing in front of the doorway.
An older woman resembling her was standing beside her, most probably a relative.
"Oh, great! Just great! Two of them!" Keitaro mumbled in a deadpan voice. "This is definitely not my lucky day!" (I could barely handle one – and now there's two of them!)
"I'm back!" Motoko grunted as she shot him a look of held-back anger...
"Do you want some tea?" Keitaro asked as politely and meekly as he could when he arrived in the living room carrying cups of tea on a tray.
"Why, thank you, Urashima," Tsuroko said. The swords she carried here lay leaning against a wall.
The two had been awkwardly quiet. And that was just so weird that it bordered on being creepy. The older woman had presented herself as Tsuroko Aoyama, the older sister of Motoko Aoyama. Clearly she seemed to hold a lot of authority over her sister, seeing how humbled and reserved Motoko appeared to be at the moment.
(Oh god! She's probably crazier than Motoko!) Keitaro thought fearfully while desperately trying to maintain a mask of firm politeness and hospitality...
"Is something the matter?" Tsuroko inquired.
"...Uh...- No,no, no! Nothing wrong here!" Keitaro burst out suddenly as his arms began to wave frantically by reflex.
(Something is wrong here!) Tsuroko thought as she saw the brief frightened look on the young manager's face. (Sure it's out of place to have a young man as the manager of a girl's dormitory, but this guy looks scared of something! It's almost as if he expects me to kill him for the slightest mistake!)
Still panicking wildly he suddenly stumbled and tripped, as he landed on top of the older woman and his hand fell upon her chest.
Time seemed to have stopped in that instant – and as realization hit in Keitaro jumped back in fear, recoiling as if he had burned himself.
"Urashima, you animal! How dare you defile my sister!" Motoko erupted and lunged for her discarded weapon like a woman possessed.
But Keitaro's attention was totally focused on Tsuroko as he stumbled backwards like a panicked animal backed into a corner. He wanted to run away, but the fear kept him from collect his thoughts! He didn't want to die! He didn't even realize that his glasses had fallen off, plunging his sight to an unclear haze.
(Remember: What did Rogue say in Uncanny X-Men # 171!) He searched his thoughts as fast as he could and acted.
"Don't hit me, please – don't hit me!" Keitaro cried out as he fell on his back, struggling to crawl away from her.
The transparent fear on Keitaro's face struck the woman with shock and surprise as he pleaded her not to hurt him. This boy was not a fighter from what she had seen, neither appearing nor acting like one who use force against others.
A bloodcurdling roar from behind her made the boy turn his eyes towards Motoko who was rushing at him lying there with Shisui drawn and ready to strike.
As Motoko's blade streaked downward in a vicious arc another blade flashed over him, shielding him from the blow as blue sparks flashed before his eyes.
As Motoko turned her gaze towards the young man's protector, she saw the look of Tsuroko Aoyama, eyes filled with shock and betrayal. The look made her falter and drop her sword, giving her sister the chance to press her away from Keitaro and unleash an attack.
"Hiken Zankusen!"
A shockwave cause by a blast of powerful vibrating air erupted, causing the entire building to shake. From inside of the Hinata-sou. Motoko crashed out of the wall and struck the ground with a thunderous thud. Another figure hurled herself after her through the hole made.
Standing over her like an avenging angel stood Tsuroko with eyes burning with pure rage and a look of hurt and ultimate betrayal as she threw away her sword. Raising a trembling fist in anger she brought it down on her sister jaw.
"I championed you!" The mask of calmness cracked on Tsuroko's face as she struck Motoko again.
"I believed in you!" Her angry shriek echoed the feeling of betrayal.
"I defended you!" She finally cried out like a banshee and pinned her younger sister to the ground.
Another blow fell on Motoko's face with the impact of a hammer followed by others.
Suddenly a pair of hands gripped her bloodied fist, holding it back with all their might.
"For pity's sake, stop! You're killing her!" Keitaro shouted.
"Stay out of this, boy! This is between her and me!" Tsuroko growled back at him, but despite the fear in his eyes he didn't let go.
"No, I won't!" the young man stared her in the eyes. "I know what she did to me in the past was wrong, but I can't just stand here doing nothing while you beat her to a pulp!"
The words affected the enraged swordswoman and in a calm and controlled manner she raised herself from the prone position over her sister.
"You are either a creature of compassion and mercy or a fool, Urashima," Tsuroko mumbled.
"Motoko!" Keitaro suddenly gasped out in shock and horror, interrupting her.
Turning her eyes towards Motoko she saw that she was kneeling and holding a tanto ready to thrust into her own abdomen and slit it open.
"No!" Tsuroko roared and delivered a vicious kick that struck Motoko, sending the dagger crashing down to the side.
"Let me die!" Motoko wailed pitifully as tears were streaming from her bruised eyes.
"No, little sister, I won't let you kill yourself! To let you die would be too quick and too easy for you – I want you to suffer for what you've done!"
"...N-No!..." Motoko whispered in horror as she looked at her sister, her sister who she had always looked up to and worshipped.
"I hereby strip you of your rank and demote you to the lowest grade!" Her sister announced coldly between clenched teeth. "I see now that I only taught you to fight, Motoko. I never taught you to show compassion and humility against those who can't fight back! But mark my words – that error will be rectified when I start to retrain you in what means to truly be a heir to the Shinmei Ryu school!"
A wail erupted from Motoko, a soul-rending scream filled with loss.
Tsuroko didn't even batter an eye and said: "If you manage to redeem yourself, you will be re-instated as the heir, but if you fail I'll personally appoint another to take your place be they cousin or student!"
Motoko just lowered her head to the ground with a defeated, beaten look.
"And while you're retrained you're forbidden to wield Shisui unless I will it. If you want to earn the right to hold it again you have to do this the hard way from scratch."
She turned to Keitaro Urashima, "And seeing that I have to teach her and keep her in line, you've got yourself another tenant for the time being. So where do I sign up?"
Kaolla Su who had just arrived at the scene was bewildered by the sight of a broken Motoko and another older woman who looked older than her and Keitaro.
Keitaro sighed pitifully. (This is not my day! Hyper family violence and now a new inmate in this madhouse! I could've gone to a normal art university – but nooo I had to follow that doggone pipe dream and try to get to Tokyo U!)
At least getting a new tenant would lighten the financial troubles of the Hinata-sou.
"Just let me get the papers and documents..."
"What's going on, Keitaro?" a seemingly shaken Su asked him.
"It's a long story..." Keitaro sighed. "...just let me get some stuff, please, and I'll try to explain everything..."
(How in the world will I explain this to everyone?)
End song: The Times They Are a-Changin' by Bob Dylan
Can you guess which characters and location from other series I've introduced here?
BTW: I want to thank those who previewed this and helped me make some revisions here. I also want to thank Andrew Joshua Talon for suggesting that amusing Mutsumi scene.
I've to apologize to all of you readers who've wanted me to have finished this chapter ages ago, due to personal problems, and that any criticism is appreciated since I'm open to advice when it comes to fic writing.
