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 woke up minutes before his alarm was to sound. 'I guess I better get ready for school.'

He grabbed his things and made his way to the manager's bathroom, and the wooden barrel that the girls gave him to soak in. 'That's right, I'll have to remember I am tutoring Shinobu in math after school today.'

Once Keitaro was done scrubbing and soaking, he dressed for the day in his slacks and dress shirt. He threw his boxers and t-shirt into the hamper in the corner and left the bathroom.

"Oof!" Keitaro had accidentally ran into Shinobu, not watching where he was going. Both fell to the floor.

"Sorry, Sempai"

Keitaro rubbed his rear as he stood up again. "Sorry, Shinobu. I should have paid more attention."

Shinobu blushed and ducked her head. "Auu. I wasn't watching either. I came to make sure Su was ready for breakfast."

"Breakfast is ready?"

"Yes, Sempai."

Keitaro rubbed his belly. "Great! I'll go get Su."

Shinobu nodded and hesitantly left.

Keitaro made his way down to the room of Koalla Su, and nervously walked as if on egg shells past the door of Motoko Aoyama on his way. Rapping smartly on the door frame, Keitaro waited for a reply.

"One minute Shinobu, I almost -" The door slid open and Koalla noticed who was at her door. "Keitaroos! Did you come to help me experiment on my new Mecha-Tama?"

Keitaro chuckled as he nervously peeked over Su's shoulder, afraid he might find a Mecha-Tama ready for launch. "Not today. Breakfast is ready." Then pointing out the pajamas Su was wearing, "You better hurry, you don't want to be late for school."

"Okies, Kitarooney. You know, it would go faster if you helped me get dressed."

"GACK," Keitaro coughed as a sword appeared by his throat.

"What sick perversions are you plying upon poor, innocent, Koalla Su, today?"

Keitaro began to sweat and gulped in fear. "Noth – nothing. Shinobu just wanted everyone to know that breakfast is ready."

Motoko glared at her landlord. "Very well, I shall see to it myself that the message gets passed on. Your presence is no longer required up here."

Keitaro nodded, quickly and cowardly. "Yes, yes ... I guess I'll get going now. Can't leave Shinobu waiting." He quailed under the stern and grim look he was being sent. "I mean breakfast. Can't leave Shinobu's breakfast waiting." And at a brisk walk, Keitaro escaped.

Halfway down the stairs, he stopped to lean against the wall and clutch at his heart. "Man, she's scary."

Keitaro helped Shinobu set breakfast on the table and soon nearly everyone was at their places. Kitsune was the last to arrive. She stumbled over to the table, bleary eyed.

"Are you feeling OK?" Keitaro asked her.

"Not so loud," she winced.

Naru huffed. "I thought you were suppose to be writing, last night. How much sake did you have?"

"Only a teensy bit," Kitsune replied while holding her fingers up to illustrate.

Motoko snorted, but didn't say anything.

"It helps put me in the right mind for writing."

Keitaro frowned. "Kitsune, I worry you have a drinking problem."

"Nonsense, I drink quite fine. In fact, you could say I am well practiced at it."

Eyes were rolled and Keitaro threw in another frown. "How about, then, a writing problem. Did you get any work done at all?"

"Eh, I got most of a rough draft," Kitsune hedged.

Keitaro was tempted to call her out, but decided she was a grown girl and it wasn't his place. Instead, he figured to nudge her in the right direction. " Well, if you need any help for your problems, you could always talk to an expert."

Kitsune shot Keitaro a saucy grin. "Oh, I have problems and I know just who to call."

"Oh?" Keitaro blinked.

"Dumb-Ass. He can do some work around this dump cleaning it up, and then maybe he could help me with ... other problems. In my room."

Naru glared. "Not in front of the k. i. d. s."

"Yeah," Su agreed, "Motoko's ears are much to sensitive for such talk. But I wouldn't mind having Dumb-Ass to play with."

"Bah, I do not see the appeal to that idiot. We already have one loser among us, why bother bringing in another?" Motoko glowered at Kitsune.

"I ... uh," Keitaro winced. "I imagine he's much to busy for something so mundane as housework. After all, who'll protect the city?"

"The police. Don't tell me you're a Dumb-Ass fan?" Naru glared at her manager. "Really, how are you going to get into Todai if you're so easily distracted?"

Keitaro blushed and looked down at his plate.

Keitaro was dismayed to find he was no longer a hot topic at school. As with most fads, Dumb-Ass was just a flash in the pan. Keitaro sighed as he closed up his locker.

"Keitaro, have we got an opportunity for you," Haitani said as he approached his friend. Shirai was next to him, nodding.

Keitaro looked over at his friends in confusion. "An opportunity? To pass my exam?"

"Naw," Shirai shook his head.

"Lost cause, man. Give up already," Haitani added. "No, to spend time with a real babe."

Keitaro was still confused. "How?"

"We've agreed to teach Motoko all about comics!" Shirai exclaimed. "We're coming home with you after school."

Keitaro felt dread build up in his gut. "That's ... nice." He gulped. "I'm tutoring one of my tenants in math, so it can't be long."

"Man, you are a player," Haitani cheered as he slapped the ronin on the back.

"Idiots!" Naru grumbled as she passed by them.

The bell ranged and off they went to class.

After school, Motoko was waiting outside for them. Keitaro, Naru, Haitani, and Shirai met her as they left for the Hinata-Sou.

"Did you read the comics I loaned you?" Shirai addressed Motoko.

Motoko sniffed. "I did. I have much questions."

Shirai smiled. "No problem, that's what I'm here for."

"And I'm here to support him," Haitani said as he threw an arm around his friend's shoulder.

"You're here to perv on the girls at the dorm," Naru snorted.

As soon as they entered the dorms, Keitaro nervously chuckled. "Heh eh eh. I'll go get some snacks. Be right back." He couldn't leave the room fast enough, just knowing it was only a matter of time before violence erupted. He sighed once he got into the empty kitchen, relieved for the moment. Digging through the cupboards and fridge, he put together a tray of snacks and nabbed a bunch of cans of tea.

As Keitaro returned to the main room, serving everyone, Shinobu and Su came through the front door. "Yes yes, I see." Su stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, in that way she did when working out some kind of engineering problem.

Shinobu blushed. "Oh, company! Do you need me to prepare anything, Sempai? Maybe some ramen bowls?"

Keitaro smiled. "Naw, we're good. Why don't you relax and get some homework done."

Naru was glaring at his friends while Haitani was talking to a hungover Kitsune and Shirai and Motoko had there heads bent over some sort of western comic. "OK, so she has a convoluted history by now. But, and don't get mad, she's an afterthought." Shirai bravely lectured.

Motoko's lips thinned into a line. "Explain, now!"

He blushed and massaged the back of his own neck. "OK. Superman has been published for a long time now. Since, like, the second World War, I think. The character became popular. Enough that the publisher had to worry about rip-offs. You see, fair use law would have allowed someone else to make a character essentially similar, just not the same, as Superman. Such as, say, a female version slapped with some name like Ultra-Lady. So it was decided that they need to make a female version just to preempt such attempts. They need not make her a regular, just one-offs periodically for a story. Like giving Lois Lane super-powers, for example. The occasional story of a Superwoman, or Super-Girl, or Super-Sister was enough to keep the lawyers happy. But the fans ended up liking a female version of Superman brought about temporarily by a wish. So Supergirl, his cousin from Krypton, was invented. You get that a lot. Instead of trying to make something original, writers just make a female sidekick. Many though, end up getting some good stories and outgrowing the shadow they start in."

Motoko snorted. "Of course, a man can only be happy if a girl doesn't outshine them."

"Er ... yeah." Shirai blinked, unsure how to address her comment. "Anyways. Pretty simple. Cousin crash lands, grown up Superman sticks her in an orphanage, yadda yadda yadda. But over time, a lot of dross accumulates. The writers kept inventing more Kryptonian refugees. A dog, a horse – yes a Super-horse! So, come the 80's, the editors were like 'This is enough!' Superman was meant to be the last survivor of Krypton, as in the only. So they rebooted the universe and killed off Supergirl. Thing is, she couldn't stay dead. Fans loved her – they still do. And if they stop making stories with her in it for long enough, then someone else could rip-off the character. So they needed a way to have a Supergirl without having her having survive Krypton. So they used multiple universes. And it only gets knottier from there."

Motoko threw her hands in the air. "So there's no simple explanation to who she is or why there's a Power-Girl with her boobs on view? Just more male perversions!"

"Uh ... yeah, let's go with that. But, see. As much as they can be eye-candy, the writers stopped thinking of them as just girl clones of Superman to look pretty and cause trouble. They became strong, independent. There has been dozens of writers, and many were either feminist or women. Yeah, some writers were less flattering. It all depends on who has the job, and that changes often. And now, most women in comics are strong and self-assured. Wonder Woman was always confident and liberated. She took a back seat to no man, and had the power to equal any. Because the guy who created her liked dominant women."

"What I don't get," Motoko grew thoughtful, "is what purpose do these comics serve?"

Shirai shrugged. "Entertainment. Escape. There need not be any great truths buried in the pages. It's a past time. Meaning they are used to pass time."

"Then why idolize such ridiculous people?"

"Because ... they represent the best in any of us, man or woman. The heroes are larger than life and embody all that is good. The villains are as evil as they come. And there in you have the eternal struggle of good vs. evil. Of values. Of what makes a hero. And everyone likes to dream about what it is like to be a hero. It's something to believe in."

Motoko scowled. "But the values are so idiotic. It's full of cheap violence and tramps."

"Well ... nothing says you can't write a comic based on what you think is important. In the end, they're just stories. If you don't agree with them, that just means you need to keep looking for the right comic or make it yourself. It's simple. Just ask yourself, 'If I had super powers and ran around saving people, what would I be? What would I do? What would I have? Where did I come from? Why can I do what I do? Who would be there to help me? What would I stand for? What would I fight?' Let it grow from there. But, trust me. Keep looking. You don't have to limit yourself to the recent comics. You might find what you love best in something older. An earlier writer who hits all the right chords. Honestly, I think some of the 80's comics are classics."

"Got any good comics about a swords-woman?"

"American?" Shirai thought about it. "No one major. Well, Deadpool, but he uses guns a lot too. Zorro, but he's a movie. Wolverine does have martial arts training, but he relies on his claws. Japanese comics have a lot more samurai and ninja. Especially girl ones. I say, don't worry about some kendo-girl. Find a hero who's personality resonates with you. Keep reading Wonder Woman. I think she's a good fit for you."

"I find her so confusing."

Shirai smiled. "You just need to read more."

Motoko turned her nose up. "Yes. Thank you. That will be all for now."

Shirai blinked and looked at Keitaro. Keitaro shrugged, as if to say, 'what can you do?'

Keitaro then made a show of looking at his watch. "I better go help Shinobu with her math." He then hastily got up, trying to get away before something unlucky happened.

Naru snorted. "I'm going to go help the idiot help Shinobu with her math."

"Well then," Haitani leered at Motoko. "Guess we're all alone."

Motoko glared at the young man. "You're all alone. I'm going to my room. Time for you two to leave."

For the rest of the week, Motoko would ask him odd questions about comic book girls and Keitaro would just gulp and tell her to ask Shirai.

Saturday came, with a big feeling of relief. With one thing or another coming up, Keitaro hadn't been able to get back into uniform. Slipping out of the inn before anyone could find any reason to detain him, Keitaro quickly made his way down the steps. He sighed in joy as his foot touched the bottom step.

"What you so happy about? Got a hot date?" He hadn't seen Haruka in the shadows. Her cigarette glowed a fiery red as she inhaled a toke.

Keitaro jumped, startled, and fell to his rear. "Ha! Auntie, don't do that!" With a programmed response, Haruka whipped out a heavy fan and whacked her cousin on his head. "Ow! What are you doing out here?"

She puffed out a cloud of tobacco smoke. "I'm on break. What are you doing out here? What's with the school bag?"

"Just some gaming books." Keitaro clutched his bag tight, it had his costume and supplies inside. "I was going to go crawl a dungeon."

"Whatever," Haruka dismissed him. "Don't come home too late."

Keitaro nodded as he got to his feet. "I won't. See you tomorrow." He then took off before she could say anything else.

Keitaro found a dark alley to change in and stuffed his bag behind a trash can. Quietly he slipped out onto the street. Suddenly, a car horn honked. Keitaro spun around to see a bunch of college kids driving by hooting and hollering out of their car. "Dumb-Ass! You rock! ... We lied, your an idiot!" They drove off laughing.

Keitaro sighed and hung his head. 'Remember,' he told himself as he walked along the sidewalk, 'A good deed is its own reward. It's alright if no one cheers for me.' Keitaro kept muttering to himself that it was alright, hoping the pit that settled in his stomach would evaporate. He came onto an alleyway he liked to cut through and turned in. He strained his senses, his hearing and eyesight, as he slowly made his way down the dark alley.

However, to his disappointment, he made it to the other end without running into any trouble. He could hear sounds that seemed like a scuffle. However, all he found was a drunk man stumbling home – his feet scraping and shuffling against the sidewalk. Later, there was a scream, but it was followed by hooting and hollering. Soon, a group of college kids passed by where Keitaro hid, behind a dumpster next to a beef bowl place, showing that the noise was just that of people having fun.

Dejected, Keitaro kept wandering the city. As he neared the nightclub district, he could start making out the sounds of bass-thumping music and people having fun. With a shrug, he decided to patrol just to make sure none of the revelers didn't need any help. "Maybe someone will need a designated driver?" Keitaro thought before remembering that he did not know how to drive. "Man, I am lame!"

As he got closer, he could see a young woman being led into an alleyway. She seemed drunk and Keitaro was concerned about her. Walking up to the alley, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of people making out. Peeking around the corner, he recognized Kitsune as the drunk woman. Sighing, believing there was no trouble, he started to pull away when he heard a loud slap.

"Hey," Kitsune yelled, "what kind of woman do you take me for?"

The man growled. "After all those drinks you made me buy you, don't you think you owe me something?"

"Not anymore," she rebuked. Kitsune went to walk away but the guy grabbed her and slammed her hard against the wall.

Keitaro was angry, Kitsune was a friend and he felt she deserved to be treated better. Stepping into the alley, he called out, "What seems to be the problem here?" He was proud his voice never wavered or showed his nervousness.

The man panicked and looked over, but he relaxed and chuckled upon seeing Keitaro. "Oh, you're just that Dumb-Ass guy. Thought it was a cop. Move along, you're not needed here. I'll be sure to call when I find a kitten stuck in a tree." He then laughed cruelly.

"Dumb-Ass!" Kitsune called. "Help!"

Keitaro pulled his tonfa out. "Unhand the woman."

The man chuckled evilly. "You're going to be singing a new song right after I shove those up your ass."

"Braver men then you have tried," Kietaro bluffed.

The two sized each other up, but before either could make a move – another person dropped into the alley. The new interloper was dressed all in black: knit ski mask, hoodie, gloves, hakama, and motorcycle boots. The baggy, black hoodie, with the flag of Japan emblazoned across the front, concealed the newcomer's form. A katana was held by the figure in black.

"All enemies of women beware!" a feminine voice sounded. Keitaro was surprised; he couldn't tell the gender from the get-up, but he was not expecting a woman.

"Oh my god, the crazies are taking over the town," the brute of a man exclaimed frustrated. "Can't you two just leave me in peace?"

"Don't listen to him," Kitsune screamed.

"I'm done warning you; let her go." Keitaro advanced, his billy clubs ready.

The figure in black pointed her blade at the man. "Why don't you try me on for size."

The guy rolled his eyes. "Is there a convention in town for nuts? Are you two married or something?"

"Me and ... HIM?Preposterous." She then turned on Keitaro. "You're not needed here. I got this under control. I'll show you how a real hero acts."

Kitsune decided to use the distraction and kneed her date in his balls. That allowed her to slip out of his grip.

The guy growled in pain and reached for the escaping Kitsune. "Get back here, you little bitch." The figure in black spun and slashed at the guy, causing him to jump back. "I'm warning you, you're going to be eating that sword in about three minutes."

"Ha!" The swords-woman jeered. "You don't got what it takes."

"Run," Keitaro called to Kitsune. "We got this."

"There's no 'we'," the swords-woman in black huffed. Kitsune made it to the alley's exit, but hung around to watch.

Seeing Kitsune get clear of the action, the mysterious sword-wielder swung the sword in an arc and brought it downwards forcefully. The would-be-rapist was picked up as if by the invisible hand of god and flew backwards to pinball off the walls of the alleyway before dropping into a dumpster. The lid banged closed over him.

"Nice!" Keitaro commented. He felt the move looked very familiar and something about it niggled at his brain.

The other spun in place and slashed at him, Keitaro ducked back and raised his arms defensively. The tip of the sword sliced through his sleeves and drew blood. "No thanks to you."

Sirens began to blare. "Crap," Keitaro swore as he looked over his shoulders to see flashing lights reflecting off the buildings. When he turned back, the other hero was gone.

"Right," he thought as he began to run down the alley, hoping to escape the cops.

Keitaro managed to dodge the cops and made it back to where he hid his clothes. His arms had already healed up. Digging his bag out, he changed in the dark alley. "My life is just one dark alley after another. And yet, I wouldn't trade any of this for anything else in the world." Finally shrugging his shirt on over his head, he packed his bag and headed towards the dorms. As he passed under a streetlight, he checked his watch. "Not too late. Now – how to get Kitsune some help without revealing how I know anything? The girl needs an intervention of some sort."

Halfway home, a police cruiser pulled up besides him. "Evening," one of the cops inside called to him.

"Evening, officer," Keitaro politely replied.

"Hey, you seen anyone strange running around?"

"Strange?" Keitaro asked, puzzled.

The officer nodded. "Yeah, a man dressed head to toe in blue. He likes to start fights."

Keitaro shook his head and shrugged. "No, I haven't seen anything like that." Which Keitaro felt was true – it's kind of hard to see yourself as long as you don't look down.

"Where you going?"

"Home." Keitaro smiled. "It's getting late and I need to get some sleep."

"What's in the bag?"

"Books. I was studying for cram school."

"Aren't you a little old?"

Keitaro sheepishly blushed and looked away. "I'm a ronin, but I refuse to give up."

"OK then," the officer nodded, "just don't join the force. Call the cops if you see any vigilantes and troublemakers."

"You got it, officer." Then the car drove off. 'Phew,' Keitaro thought to himself when the police car disappeared from sight.

Keitaro made it home and managed to slip in through the back door quietly. He dropped his stuff off in his room before heading down to the kitchen for a drink. There, he ran into Motoko already dressed for bed and drinking a glass of water.

Motoko narrowed her eyes and glared at the dorm's manager. "Where have you been?"

Keitaro tugged at the collar of his shirt. No matter how confident he felt on the streets in his costume, it all fled the moment he stepped into the Hinata-Sou. "I was just out. Kind of a boring night."

Motoko snorted. She finished her drink and put the glass in the sink. "Don't go to bed too late, you have a lot of chores tomorrow. The onsen is filthy again."

Keitaro ducked his head. "I'll get on it first thing in the morning."

Motoko nodded and left the kitchen. Keitaro watched her go, his brain once more niggling at the feeling he was suppose to remember something. Shrugging, he poured himself some water before going to bed as well.

Keitaro sat heavily down at breakfast. It wasn't that he needed more sleep. He just ached from being punched by Naru and attacked by Motoko soon after getting out of bed. "Mmm, something sure smells good." Shinobu blushed.

Breakfast was being served when Kitsune finally arrived, last as usual. She yawned and grunted, "Mornin'," to the others as she sat herself down.

"So," Keitaro began, pausing to think how to word what he wanted to say.

"So what?" Naru fumed.

"So, Kitsune," Keitaro tried again. "Get up to anything last night?"

"Huh, wha?" she muttered sleepily. She blinked and looked at Keitaro for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Got up to some dancing."

"That's all? Sounds like fun."

Naru glared at Keitaro. "Why do you care all of a sudden? You're not trying to hit on Kitsune, are you?"

Kitsune giggled. "Oh, aren't you a dear. But my heart is spoken for already."

"It is?" most of the table chorused.

Kitsune nodded. "Yeah ... by Dumb-Ass."

Motoko snorted.

Kitsune ignored her. "I saw him last night. I was with a friend who got a little frisky and he came out of the shadows to save me. He was so powerful and manly." Kitsune sighed dreamily.

Keitaro couldn't help the smile on his face. Naru noticed. "What you smiling about? Oh no! You really are a fanboy of that idiot!"

"Wait, what?" Keitaro gasped. "No, nothing like that. Just happy Kitsune is safe. Maybe you should try drinking less if you almost got in trouble last night."

Kitsune waved him off. "It was nothing."

Motoko snorted. "So this Dumb-Ass saved you? I find that hard to believe."

"Well ... he did have a girlfriend with him. Kendo-Girl."

"Girlfriend?" Motoko roared.

Kitsune jabbed her in the ribs. "Don't tell me you're jealous. I never thought you would have the hots for any guy."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Kendo-Girl?" Keitaro asked.

"She is not Kendo-Girl!" Motoko argued.

Kitsune patted her on the head. "I know that's your nickname. But really? What are you doing with it? You just beat up on Keitaro. Which is amusing, but really, that's like picking a fight with a baby."

"Geesh, thanks," Keitaro muttered under his breath. Then he realized something. "Hey, Motoko?"

"What," she snapped as she glared at him.

"The style you practice. Are there a lot of others who know it as well?"

Everyone stared at him. Naru broke the silence. "Don't tell me you're thinking of joining?"

Keitaro chuckled nervously. "Naw. You know me and any physical activity mix like ... well ... we don't mix at all." Everyone nodded their agreement.

"Why do you want to know?" Motoko asked, curious.

"Uh ..." Keitario thought hard. "Small talk?" Everyone rolled their eyes. "So ... you go to a pretty big dojo? It's your family's, right?"

Motoko shrugged. "We have a good number of students, yes. Trust me, you wouldn't meet the requirements to join?"

"Oh? Is there like push-ups and pull-ups one has to do?"

Motoko sniffed and turned her nose up. "No, you first need to be a man."

"Ooh, snap!" Kitsune laughed. "You got burned, there. Point, Motoko." Kitsune used her finger to mark an imaginary point in the air.

Keitaro hung his head then pushed away from the table. "I just remembered the hot springs need cleaning. I better go do that now."

Being a Sunday, Keitaro did not dare take his uniform out to sew up the cut sleeves. He could never predict when one of his tenants would pop into his room. They had a habit of showing up at the worst possible moment and the last thing he needed them to see was his costume. So, instead, he focused his energy on the housework needed to run an inn.

"Man ... How did Granny Hina keep up with all of this work by herself?" Keitaro wiped at some sweat on his brow. "If Shinobu didn't do the cooking, I don't think I'd be able to do everything, study, and still have a life of my own."

Chuckles answered him. Turning around, he found Naru and Kitsune. "Isn't that cute?" Kitsune asked Naru.

"Yeah, he thinks he has a life." Naru grinned evilly. "You'll never get into Todai if you have a life. Studying has to be your life, just like it is with me." She then turned her nose up. "When you're ready to study, come find me." She left for her room.

Keitaro sighed. Kitsune patted him on his shoulder. "Hey, she'll come around. Give her time." For once, she regarded him with an honest, caring face.

"Thanks," Keitaro smiled. "Though I often wonder what I would even have to offer anyone. I'm just a ronin." He sighed.

"Well, you're no Dumb-Ass. But you're cute and you care for your friends. People can do worse than that." Kitsune than turned away but pause to look over her shoulders. "By the way, I'll be late with my rent. Thanks for understanding." She then left before he could reply.

Keitatro chuckled to himself. He turned back to washing the hall floor. 'I wonder. That person from last night. She's probably from Motoko's school. Maybe even a relative. Perhaps a cousin? Maybe Motoko has an older sister?'

By lunch, he stopped to take a break and get lunch. On his way to get food, he passed by Kitsune lounging on the couch, watching the news. "News again?"

Kitsune nodded. "I want to see if they say anything about Dumb-Ass."

Motoko, walking through the room, scoffed and changed directions and approached the couch. "Maybe they'll announce his retirement and we can be rid of that shady, lecherous lout. I mean, what kind of man sneaks around in the dark wearing a mask? It's sounds very fishy to me."

Keitaro rolled his eyes. Luckily, no one saw him do so as they all were watching the News.

"Another Incredibly-Dumb person sighting last night," the male anchor announced after some time had passed. "Reports places him in an alley where a scuffle was believed to have occurred. Witnesses reported a woman's screaming. The police had no statement to give. I, for one, hope this menace to our streets will soon be apprehended."

Kitsune clicked the TV off angrily. "Bah, if it wasn't for him, I would have been in real trouble."

Motoko fumed. "There was no mention of ... uh ... that girl Kitsune mentioned."

Keitaro replied, "She was ninja like ... uh I mean I am guessing she is if no one noticed her."

"Ninja?" Motoko seemed offended or something.

Keitaro got an idea on how to deflect and dodge. "Hey, Kitsune. Why didn't they interview you? I would think you would be all over getting on TV?"

Kitsune blushed. "Uh, well ... when I heard the sirens – I ran. I may have ran a tab up at a few bars and didn't pay."

Keitaro groaned. "One of these days, I'm getting you professional help."

"My family has a one-hundred-percent successful cold turkey method," Motoko agreed.

Keitaro perked up. "Oh? How does that work?"

"Hell week ... extended for a month."

Kitsune gulped. "No thanks. I'm all good. It's not like I get into that much trouble."

Keitaro heaved his shoulders and sighed. "Kitsune, being a functional drunk still means you are a drunk. You can't solve your problems by drinking."

Kitsune waved him off. "Oh, I don't drink to deal with problems. I drink because it's fun."

Naru then shouted into the room. "Come along you lazy lay-abouts. The rest of us want to eat lunch already."

As Keitaro got ready for bed, he was going to sleep a little early so he could wake up in the middle of the night to mend his suit, he heard a knock at his door.

Keitaro almost called out, confused by the novelty of someone actually knocking, when he remembered he still was half naked. "One moment," he called instead, "I am still -"

But his door slid open revealing Motoko, who saw Keitaro revealing his boxers as he was still in the process of putting his pajama bottoms on. "Lecherous exhibitionist, are we all to be victims to your perversions? Rock Cutting Sword!"

Ketairo bounced off the ceiling of his room and crashed to the floor. "What do you want, Motoko?" he groaned from a heap on the floor.

"To be rid of you."

Keitaro banged his head on the floor. "No, I meant why did you come to my room?"

"Oh," she was taken aback for a moment. "I just wanted you to ask that pervert friend of yours to come by again. I have more comic questions."

"Fine, fine, can I get dressed now?" Motoko sniffed and left. 'Man, she's really getting into those comics. Hope she isn't turning into an otaku. I have feeling she'd be even harder to get along with if that happens.' Then a horrible thought occurred to him. 'Oh my god, is she falling for Shirai?'