Disclaimer:
All intellectual and property rights of Love Hina belongs to Ken Akamatsu. Manga and anime rights belong to whomever holds them for each country or region. The world of Love Hina is being used without permission and without the intent of infringing upon these rights. No profit is being made. If you recognize it, it belongs to Ken Akamatsu. If you don't recognize it, there is still a strong chance it belongs to Akamatsu. The seldom and rare things that Akamatsu doesn't claim as his own and could be construed as mine I release to Public Domain. And, of course, Kick-Ass belongs to Mark Millar.
This work was not beta read. If you, the reader, find anything in error, feel free to let me know and I will endeavor to fix it if I can. As such, thank you for making this better for the next reader. Those who wish to beta read this story merely has to let me know.
Keitaro awoke to a blaring alarm. Stretching as he sat up, he couldn't stop the smile spreading along his face. 'I finally did it,' he thought to himself. 'I finally saved someone as a superhero. ... And I can never tell anyone about it.' Keitaro sighed, but he didn't feel too down. While not an ideal success, the previous night was good enough to give him a sense of accomplishment. 'I did it! I actually succeeded at something for once.'
With a spring to his step, Keitaro walked to his bathroom to clean up for the day, whistling the entire way.
Cleaned up and ready for a new day, Keitaro headed down for breakfast. Riding his high, snapping his fingers, Keitaro wasn't paying much attention to his footsteps. Placing a foot down wrong, mostly missing the top step so that only his heel caught on the lip of the stair, it slipped causing Keitaro to bounce and slide down the stairs. Unfortunately, Motoko was at the bottom and he crashed into her. Keitaro came to a rest splayed out on top of Motoko, his face in her cleavage with her pants, clutched tightly in his right hand, down by her knees.
"You treacherous pervert!" Motoko raged as picked herself up off the floor.
Keitaro immediately fell back into a defensive posture, hands held high as he pleaded with Motoko. "No wait. It was an accident."
"Rock cutting sword!" Motoko shouted as she drew her katana forth. A wave of ki energy washed towards Keitaro, lifting and propelling him towards the kitchen.
"I'm so-o-ry-y-y-y-y." Keitaro's apology trailed behind him as he flew through the air. Keitaro landed roughly in the kitchen, sliding hard into the cabinets and causing a bowl of tempura batter to dislodge from the counter and fall onto his head. "Ow!"
"Au, Sempai," Shinobu mewed in sympathetic tones, "are you alright?"
"Hehehe," Keitaro sheepishly chuckled as he stood up, wiping the batter from his face. "Sorry about the mess, Shinobu. I'll clean it up."
"It's alright, Sempai." Shinobu blushed as she handed over a wet towel to Keitaro so he could clean himself up. "Why don't you clean yourself, I can get the floor."
"Thanks, Shinobu." Keitaro began to wipe himself off. "I'm sorry about breakfast."
Shinobu was on her knees cleaning the floor with a rag. "I was actually done with the batter. That was just extra I was going to save for lunch." She then wiped a hand to move a piece of fallen hair from her face to the side of her head, leaving batter behind on her cheek and head.
"Shinobu, are you alright? I thought I heard a crash." Naru trailed off at the sight that greeted her. Keitaro standing with a towel covered in something white over a kneeling Shinobu who had something white on her face and hair. "You perverted lech! How disgusting! Sating your twisted, demented needs on a thirteen year old. NARU PUNCH!"
Once more, Keitaro went flying and tumbling out of the Hinata Sou. Naru immediately became all compassionate as she kneeled by Shinobu. "Don't worry, you poor thing. I'll call the cops. we'll make Keitaro pay for all of your therapy bills. There, there. It's okay to cry if you want to."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Shinobu exclaimed in disbelief. She wasn't even sure how anyone could construe the scene as perverted.
"First lets get you cleaned up. I am sure you don't want any of ... that man on you. You know that men lie? They'll say something like how it is good for your hair, but don't believe them. It's not true."
"No, really. What are you talking about? No one says tempura batter is good for the hair."
"Is tempura batter what he likes to call it? That disgusting lech. Don't you worry, Shinobu, I'm here now. I'll protect you from that evil man."
Shinobu took hold of the bowl that held the batter and stuck it under Naru's nose. "I don't know what you are talking about. Sempai had spilled the tempura batter and we were cleaning it up."
A look of realization crossed Naru's face. "Oh! You mean that isn't ... isn't' ... that's tempura batter for real?" Naru sagged in relief at Shinobu's nod. "Well, Keitaro is such a klutz," Naru remarked unkindly. Then her countenance grew stormy. "Don't tell me the klutz ruined breakfast? And all the hard work you put in, that ungrateful idiot."
Shinobu sighed. "Actually, all of the veggies for breakfast are fried up."
Naru shrugged. "Okay, in that case I'm going to leave you to finish up the cooking. Everyone will be up soon."
Shinobu watched Naru's retreating back with sad eyes. "Won't she even help me clean up the big mess she help make?"
Meanwhile, Keitaro was picking himself up and dusting himself off. "Man," he groaned, "I didn't even feel this bad when that car ran me down. What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Breakfast was an otherwise normal affair, with Kitsune joining them late as was her wont after a night of drinking. Sitting down to the table, she piled her dish high.
"Had a fun night, Kitsune?" Naru asked her old friend.
Keitaro suppressed a sigh. He forlornly thought to himself, 'No one ever asks if I had fun when I come back.'
"Oh yeah," Kitsune replied. "At first, it looked like it was going to be like any other night. But you should have been there. It was the most amazing thing I ever saw."
The girls didn't look quite convinced, each assuming Kitsune was referring to some sort of drunken debauchery.
Undeterred, Kitsune pressed on. "A fight broke out in front of the bar I was at."
"Are you alright?" Keitaro asked, interrupting the story.
"Oh, I'm fine, sugar. Thanks for asking."
Motoko sniffed. "Why would we be interested in some bar brawl?"
"Well, it was the strangest thing. One of the guys was dressed all in blue, like some kind of ninja smurf."
"What?" Keitaro squeaked.
"Yeah? So?" Naru dismissively returned to her meal.
"See! You should have been there. Some guy, dressed as a superhero, saved another man from a beating. It was really cool. He even had a codename for himself. Calls himself-"
"Cool-Man!" Keitaro interrupted. He then blushed, realizing his mistake. "Or maybe..." Keitaro tried for a save. "Captain Justice? The Amazing Hero?"
Kitsune guffawed. "Naw. Here's the funny part; he calls himself Dumb-Ass."
"Dumb-Ass?" a number of voice chorused. The girls asked it questioningly, but Keitaro was taken aback by the revelation.
"I think ... I think that you had too much to drink, Kitsune. It was probably just a hallucination," Motoko pronounced.
"What? No, it really happened. You believe me, right?" But the girls at the table didn't.
Keitaro stared studiously at his plate, afraid of giving himself away. 'What were the chances?' he thought to himself. 'Kitsune was there that night. What were the chances of that happening. And Dumb-Ass? It's Cool-Man!' Depressed, Keitaro ate his breakfast in silence.
Kitsune got her proof later that morning as she was flipping through the channels. Coming upon a news network, the lead story caught her eye. "Hey girls, you are going to want to see this," she called out at the top of her lungs. "Hurry up."
"What's all the racket about?" Naru grumbled as she walked in from the hot springs, hair still wet.
"Yay!" Kaolla yelled as she vaulted over the back of the couch. "Are we watching another movie? I hope this one has explosions."
The rest filed in, to see what Kitsune was screaming about. Even Keitaro stopped whatever cleaning he was up to and joined them around the set.
Kitsune grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "Well, manager, now you can see what a real man is like."
"Huh? What?" Keitaro gaped dumbly at Kitsune.
"Just watch the set, Hun."
The news came back from their commercial break. "And now, some amateur footage of a brawl that occurred last night outside of Ikijawa's bar. Where, witnesses report, a man dressed as a comic book superhero was fighting a street-gang." The feed then cut to a shaky and dimly lit home movie footage of Keitaro's fight the night before. Keitaro couldn't help but smile in pride, at least until he saw himself say his name was Dumb-Ass.
The news cut back to the news-desk. "Amazing," the male anchor told his female costar, "amazingly stupid that is. Mr. Incredibly Dumb, if you are watching this, please quit while you are ahead."
"I'm not sure I'll be sleeping any safer knowing guys like that are running around," the female anchor agreed.
"There, see," Kitsune crowed. "I was not making any of that up."
"That was so cool!" Su jumped up and began to mimic Dumb-Ass's fight.
"Au, he was so brave," Shinobu whispered to herself.
Motoko snorted. "The fool has no fighting technique. He lacked grace and precision. If he can be a superhero, I could be a better one. All this fuss over some guy. I could do that sleepwalking."
Kitsune jabbed her elbow into Motoko's ribs. "Now you're talking. You got all those super marital arts moves. And we already know how much fear you strike in Keitaro's heart. You'd make a great superhero!"
Motoko held her nose up and sniffed. "Undeniably, I would be a better hero then some male. I keep all you girls safe on a daily basis from the perverted predations of our manager."
Keitaro held his head in his hands. He lamented silently to himself, 'When did my life become such a joke? Does nothing ever go right.'
However, the next day at school, he got a pleasant shock. Instead of being a laughing stock, Dumb-Ass was being admired by most of the students. Everywhere Keitaro looked, small groups were gossiping and discussing the new hero. "I heard that the Yakuza gunned down his family when they refused to pay protection money on their sushi stand ... I think he has a skin condition, that's why he covers his face up ... Is Dumb-Ass really the best name he could come up with? Maybe he wants his enemies to underestimate him ... Someone forgot to take their meds ... I heard that if you need help, just fire a blue flare into the air." The turbulence of many voices speaking washed over Keitaro. He never felt more proud in his life.
He drifted off into his own thoughts. 'They are all talking about me. Me! They all like me. I never got to be the talk of the school before. Not plain, old Keitaro. All I ever got was picked upon, beaten up, ignored by everyone – especially girls. But as as superhero, I'm more popular than ever. More popular than Brittany Spears or Avril Lavigne. I never expected this.'
His friends broke Keitaro out of his reverie. "Hey bud, what ya daydreaming about now?" Haitani asked as he slapped Keitaro on the back.
"Oh, you know Keitaro, he is probably mooning over Naru and something he did to upset her."
Keitaro jumped from their sudden appearance. "Oh, hey guys. What's up?"
"What's up, he says," Haitani mocked.
"It's like he lives under a rock," Shirai agreed.
"Keitaro, my man, Dumb-Ass is what's up. Don't you know anything?"
"Oh I know ... er, there was the news and all, and uh ..."
"You don't realize what this means, do you?" Shirai poked him in the ribs.
"Um ... sure I do. I think. It means that someone is walking the streets, fighting crime."
Whatever rejoinder his two friends would have made was cut off by the bell ringing the start of class. Keitaro went through school that day riding a strange high. His spirits was buoyed by a rare sense of accomplishment. And the gossip even followed him home, where the girls were split over the subject of Dumb-Ass. Kitsune thought he was a hoot, Su found him to be cool, and Shinobu thought he seemed to be a nice guy. Naru and Motoko both thought he was an idiot.
Even during school on Tuesday nothing changed. Everyone was still talking about Dumb-Ass. They traded more and more ridiculous rumors as the day wore on. All the popularity inflated Keitaro's ego, making him want to go out after school in costume to greet his adoring public. But that plan fell through.
He and his friends were leaving school, and Keitaro was preparing to say goodbye and leave to find an alley, when Motoko walked up to them.
"Mo-mo-motoko," Keitaro stammered, "what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"
"I was. I rushed over once it was done," she informed Keitaro in formal tones.
"If you are looking for Narusegawa -"
Motoko interrupted Keitaro. "I came looking for you and your ... friends." Distaste colored her words.
"Uh, us?" Keitaro started to sweat as his nerves got the better of him.
Motoko nodded. "I believe you would know more about comic books. I desire that you bring me to some and explain them. Now."
Keitaro glanced at his friends, who were not being as nervous about the strange request as he thought they should be. "Like a date?" Haitani asked the sword-mistress.
"No." Motoko then slammed a boken hard onto Haitani's skull, causing him to stagger. "And I will not hesitate to use force if you perverts try any of your usual tricks."
"Hehehe," Keitaro laughed nervously while tugging at his shirt collar. "Why do you want to know about comics?"
Motoko merely leveled a stone cold gaze at him. "Why are you keeping a lady waiting? A gentleman does not make a lady wait."
With a put-upon sigh, Keitaro and company went off to the local comic shop. The walk over was uneventful, all things considered. "Aww, man," Keitaro whined silently in his head. 'I was really looking forward to a little costume duty. Why do I have the worst luck?'
Walking into the store, it was quickly apparent that Motoko was like a fish out of water. She just stared around, looking lost. "Where do I even begin?" She wondered quietly.
"What were you interested in?" Shirai felt most at home in a comic book shop. Here, he could be a confident expert about something.
"Superheroes," Motoko answered absent-mindedly.
"Superheroes? Like that Dumb-Ass dumb ass?" Haitani looked over from where he was browsing some hentai titles.
Motoko put on haughty airs once more. "No, not like that buffoon. Better."
"Well," Shirai said as he scratched at his head, "Let's start with the basics, then. When it comes to superheroes, that's pretty much what the Americans specialize in. But the Japanese does have its own. Most notable are the magical girls. Like Sailor Moon, for example."
Motoko sniffed. "I find her to be ditsy, a klutz, and way under-dressed. I could never respect a superhero like her."
"Well ..." Shirai ducked his head, afraid of the reaction he might get with what he was about to say. "Being under-dressed is a rather common trait for superheroines. All the powerful ones flaunt their stuff."
Motoko nose flared in anger. Shirai gulped. "It ... its ... its so the bad guys underestimate them." Shirai wasn't brave enough to say the 'I think' that he wanted to say at the end.
Motoko settled down somewhat. "So female superheroes don't wear much and debase themselves on purpose?"
"Er ..." Shirai looked at the others for help, but Haitani had already hid himself among the shelves.
Keitaro felt sorry for his friend, and thought to try helping him out. "Uh, pretty much. Shirai's the expert on American comics, here."
Shirai nodded. "Yeah. All the highly respected girl heroes dress like that. Or the edgy female villains and femme-fatales. There are a couple, like Raven, who are modest but highly regarded. But to be taken seriously, a girl has to wear a short skirt or tights or something."
"And the guys?" Motoko's even voice, devoid of emotion, carried no hint of her potential reactions.
"Well." Shirai tugged at his collar. "No self respecting male superhero would be seen exposed in some manner. Even if they don't wear a mask, like Superman, they still have a full body tights and boots. Even when they run around in what looks like underwear, being short shorts, they still got tights on underneath. Superman, Batman, Spider-man, Captain America, The Punisher, the Green Arrow, The Flash, and so on. All tend to be covered up. No reader would respect a superhero in hot pants and a mesh top. It would be much to gay, or something, I guess."
"What about the big, green guy?" Keitaro asked his friend.
"The Hulk? Well, I suppose there are exceptions to every rule. But he is so muscular, his manliness is not in doubt. But if we were to take, for example, Keitaro here. You'd have to cover him head to foot with cloth, and then throw another layer of winter clothes over that just so people would think he was manly enough to be a sidekick."
Motoko grinned in evil amusement. "Back to the girls, you said there was always an exception. Which one dresses the best? Who is the strongest? The most feared?"
Shirai gulped. Other than comic Raven, he couldn't think of any girls that wasn't sexy in their outfit. "Well, I already mentioned Raven. She's cool. She's got this conflicted backstory where her father is this all-powerful demon named Trigon-"
"A demon?" Motoko glared at the offending comics around her. "So, other than a demon-spawn, the women run around in skimpy clothes while the men cover up? No wonder you boys are such lechers. You read this mind rotting drivel."
"Hey," Shirai barked, coming to the defense of his beloved comics, "there are some pretty good stories in these. A lot of tragedy too. Take Batman. As a child, he watched his parents get gunned down by a mugger. From that loss, he vowed that he would never rest in the fight against crime. Knowing how superstitious criminals were, he designed his suit to look bat-like. His is a gritty, dark tale. Don't you think it would look out of place if he pranced around in a pink swimsuit?"
Motoko leaned back, thinking. "Fine. Show me some of these male heroes. But I have no patience for ditzy, naive, emotional girls in mini-skirts that trip over their own feet while trying to defeat the enemy."
"Yeah, OK. Though, the American girls are not like that. Most can throw down in a fight just as good, or better, than most guys. Alright, true, few are ditzy or naïve. But even those are not clumsy fighters. And even in Japan, the original Cutey Honey was much more confident and together. Don't judge them all by Sailor Moon."
Motoko snorted. "Tell me more of these supermen, batmen, captain men stuff."
Having missed going out the one time, it seemed to Keitaro that fate was conspiring against him as he always had to do something for or with the girls after school. The hot springs needed cleaning, chores needed to be done, Naru dragged him to study, Shinobu dragged him to go shopping, or Su was in a playful mood. Even when Saturday came, he had no opportunity to escape.
Saturday dawned warm and sunny. After a half day of school, the girls were feeling restless. It was Kitsune who suggested going to a park to unwind.
"Sunblock, check. Large brim hat, check. Study guides, check." Naru was preparing to go. "Hey Keitaro, don't forget to bring your books along."
Meanwhile, Shinobu waddled out from the kitchen carrying a large basket in her arms. "Food's all packed."
"Yummy!" Su yelled as she leaped onto Shinobu's back. "Can I have a snack now?"
"No, Su, and get off," Shinobu said in sufferance.
Motoko glided down the stairs regally. Behind her, Kitsune stumbled down. "Sake is all packed."
Motoko raised an eyebrow. "One does not bring booze to the park."
"Oh, hush sugar. How can we party without a little sake?"
"Well, let's go. I see you trying to sneak off. Where do you think you're going, mister?" Naru fingered Keitaro from across the room.
"Uh ... I'm getting sunscreen?" Keitaro asked, wondering if his excuse would be bought.
"Honestly, you always wait until the last minute. Hurry up, you're keeping the rest of us waiting."
Keitaro nodded quickly and fled the room. 'What is she talking about?' he griped to himself. 'No one else is ready – I bet Kitsune or maybe Su will be the last ones ready. She's the one with a checklist of a hundred things; no one else seems to need so much for a few hours at the park. And I don't even want to go.' Keitaro sighed as he entered his room. He slapped some sunscreen on. "The sun isn't even that strong out, today." With one last wistful look towards where he hid his suit, Keitaro left his room to join the girls. True to his prediction, they waited on Su and Kitsune before they could leave.
On arrival, they found the park was crowded with other people who had the same idea. The Hinata crew found space, by a new skate-park, to put there stuff down. Shinobu immediately began to lay out a blanket full of picnic food. Su and Kitsune grabbed a couple water-guns and made nuisances of themselves. Motoko found some shade to meditate under. Keitaro sat by the food, enjoying some rice and pickled vegetables from a bento that Shinobu packed.
"Come on, you got to see this." Su tugged on Keitaro arm, pulling him towards the skate park.
"Oh, alright," Keitaro got up to follow Su, bringing his bento and chopsticks with him. Soon, he was standing among some spectators watching the skaters pulling tricks on the ramps and rails.
Most were guys in jeans and t-shirts. A couple wore bandannas. There were girls out there too, shredding with the guys. They looked more punk, with colored hair and ripped clothing.
"Wow! They are pretty good." Keitaro mentioned, impressed by their skills. He was noticing the pads they wore. To himself he thought, 'I could use elbow and knee pads like those on my suit.' Wanting a closer look at a pair, Keitaro watched the nearest person, who was a girl getting ready to descend a half-pipe.
"And good looking too, huh Keitaro?" Kitsune said slyly from his right.
Unbeknown to either, Naru had wandered over behind them. "You pervert!" she screamed before decking Keitaro hard, causing him to flip into the skating area. He landed sprawled out on the concrete skating ramp, his bento and chopsticks went flying, making a mess. A guy on rollerblades ran into and tripped over Keitaro, taking a tumble in the process.
"Hey asshole, what do you think you're doing?" the tumbled skater yelled at Keitaro angrily as they both got up.
"Sorry, sorry," Keitaro groveled as he politely bowed.
However, the skater punk was not appeased. Angrily, he shoved Keitaro and sent the luckless manager windmilling backwards. As fate would have it, the punk-girl skater had built up enough speed on the halfpipe that she had decided to exit that area in order to shred the rails leading to a tall table formation. Keitaro, stumbling backwards, slammed into the female skateboarder. As the two went down, true to form, Keitaro managed to pants the girl and land with his head in her crotch.
"Ugh! You pervert!" she screamed from their compromising position. She then took to whacking him on the head with her knuckles.
Sheepishly and embarrassedly, Keitaro got up. "So sorry, Ma'am. I tripped. Honest. I'm just having one of those days." Keitaro sighed. "Say, where do you get those pads you are wearing on your arms and legs?"
"You jumped me to ask about my knee and elbow pads?" The punk skater frowned.
"Well ... I wasn't jumping so much as was pushed."
"I got them from Ichi's Sports, but any sporting goods store will carry some. If you're trying to get my number, I ain't interested."
"Keitaro!" Naru shouted from the side. "You letch!" She shook an angry fist at him.
"Oh my, look at the time," Keitaro deadpanned. "I better be going, bye now." He then took off, running away through the skate park, trying to dodge skaters, but mostly bouncing off of them.
"Wow," the punk skater said to a blonde skater, in lots of pink, who pulled to a stop by her. "Doesn't he know it's dangerous to run about in here ."
"Forget that, who's going to clean the mess he made? And your underwear is still showing. What's with the Domokun panties?"
It was Tuesday before Keitaro could slip away after school to do some needed shopping. He was hoping to patrol, but the girls – well Naru and Motoko – convinced him he needed to make some repairs as landlord. "I guess it's lucky I needed some more supplies." Keitaro than thought about how he needed to get more supplies because the Hinata Sou needed repairing because he was forcefully ejected from one room or another so frequently. "OK ... maybe it is not so lucky." After getting what he needed from a local hardware store, Keitaro then trekked to a near-by sports store.
Inside, he looked around in amazement. Spotting a worker, he decided to ask for help. Unfortunately, as he walked over, Keitaro tripped and spilled his prior purchases all over the floor.
"Are you OK?" The perky worker asked, concern on her face, as she stood over the prone and hapless ronin.
"I'm fine," Keitaro placated as he started to get back up. "I just – whoops!" Keitaro's right foot found a small can of nails as he was halfway up and he was sent rocketing forward as he lost his footing once more.
Predictably, he crashed into the girl, bringing both of them down and jarring his head into her jaw.
"Ow," the store girl groaned from under Keitaro.
Keitaro moaned from both pain and embarrassment. He then noticed he was on top of her and flinched involuntarily away before suddenly scooting off of her and immediately began to beg. "Sorry, sorry. Please don't hit me, it was an accident. I swear."
The girl sat up, rubbing her head, with a puzzled look to her face. "Why would I hit you? I know it was an accident."
Keitaro had kept his head pressed to his hands, but when there was no pain coming he dared to look up. "Huh, what did you say?"
"I said I'm not angry at you," the girl explained. She smiled as she reached down to offer Keitaro a hand up.
Keitaro eyed the hand warily for a moment before smiling himself and taking hold of it. "Thanks, that is very understanding of you."
The girl's expression softened a bit. "I like to think that I'm just being of normal understanding. Anyone can see you didn't mean it. Can I give you a hand picking up your stuff?"
"Sure!" Keitaro then began to gather his things as she helped. "Did you see where my can of nails went?"
She pointed towards a fishing display. "I think it flew over there. Would you like me to keep your bags behind the counter while you shop?"
"That would be nice, please and thank you."
She helped Keitaro find his nails before storing his bags safely. "My name is Minako, can I help you find anything?"
Keitaro nodded. "I am looking for some knee pads and elbow pads like what the skateboarders wear."
Minako looked him over. "Are you thinking of learning to skateboard?"
"No. I just wanted some pads."
"O...K...," she said quizzically. "There over this way. I suppose they would be useful if you tend to trip a lot."
"Hehehe," Keitaro sheepishly chuckled. "Yeah, I kind of fall a lot."
The girl nodded in agreement. "Hard on the knees."
"Oh, the fall is nothing. It's what comes after ... er, I mean: yeah, that's exactly it."
"You know," Minako said as she stopped to give Keitaro an appraising look, "you looked like a kicked puppy when you had fallen on me. Any reason you thought I was going to hit you?"
"Heh, well ... girls don't like it when a guy touches them inappropriately."
Minako nodded her head. "Sure, when it is on purpose. What kind of Harpy blames an accident on someone? Also, what good would violence do? I was raised to believe that hitting people is either a last resort or it becomes the sheltering place of the immature and childish."
Keitaro shrugged. "Mistakes happen, you might have thought it was on purpose."
"A person has to be pretty dense or out of touch with reality to think that. You're girlfriend doesn't hit you, does she?"
Keitaro shook his head, emphatically, in the negative. "Oh no no no. Nar – I mean, she's not my girlfriend or anything like that."
"Ah," Minako pursed her lips. "You know, I could never understand the attraction with the tsundere types. Seems like too much to put up with, just for a few moments of happiness. A person shouldn't have to feel pain for a vague promise of some pleasure in the indefinite future."
"She's not like that at all," Keitaro rose to Naru's defense. "She can be nice too. She has to put up with a lot trying to tutor an idiot like me, and she's done me nice favors time to time."
"Time to time? Sure, her few acts of kindness probably seem like something special if they only occur time to time. What about the rest of the time? And you don't strike me as an idiot, is that what she says? I think she's doing more tearing-down then tutoring."
"Hehehe," Keitaro chuckled, uncomfortable with confrontation. "It's not like that at all."
Minako shrugged. "I'll take your word for it. But I still don't understand the attraction. Seems like two-thirds of anime has some kind of coupling where the guy chases the angry, violent tsundere because he caught a glimpse of a fleeting smile. And it isn't just 'That's only on TV' as I saw a lot of that in school too. Plenty of nice, gentle girls out there, you know?"
"Uh, yeah." Keitaro shrugged. "I don't get what's up with the TV romances either."
Minako glanced out the corner of her eye at Keitaro. "Yeah ... well, here's the pads. They all do the same thing and you can feel free to choose the one you think looks the nicest since there isn't any real difference between them. It's just a matter of fit and comfort, and that varies person to person."
"These look nice enough, I guess." Keitaro tentatively chose a pair of knee pads. "Black with a little blue. Got any matching elbow pads?"
"Hmm..." Minako scanned the rack. "Here, I think these will go nicely."
"Thanks! These are all I came for."
"Let's go cash you out then."
It was really late that night when Keitaro opened his eyes and quietly crept out from his futon. Glancing fearfully at the hole that lead up to Naru's room, Keitaro turned his desk lamp on. Waiting a few moments to see if anyone would surprise him and not hearing any sounds, Keitaro let out a sigh of relief.
As quietly as he could, Keitaro dug out his costume and put it on, adding on the new pieces of the knee and elbow guards. Checking himself out in the mirror, Keitaro was pleased.
'I'll show them,' Keitaro crowed in his thoughts. 'I'll get people to call me Cool-Man. Hmm, these pads do look nice. They add something to the suit, and they are useful too. I wonder if I should add a scarf during winter? Saturday, the hero shall make his triumphant return. Bad guys will quake when they hear the name of Cool-Man. But first, I better practice my tonfas some more.'