Same spiel as usual. I am but a humble writer with an inability to make and describe chraracters of my own. I've been trying to upload this chapter for a few days, but the site has been failing me.

Benzin, third verse, by Rammstein

Gib mir Benzin
Es fließt durch meine Venen
Es schläft in meinen Tränen
Es läuft mir aus den Ohren
Herz und Nieren sind Motoren

Translated from German by Jeremy Williams:

Give me gasoline
It flows through my veins
It sleeps in my tears
It leaks from my ears
Heart and kidneys are motors! (maniacal laughter)

Gasoline

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"No...stop!"

"What? Who are you? Why are you in my dormitory? I'm the manager here."

"Please, don't you know who I am? Wait!"

There was a knock and a thump. The girl knelt on the floor, cradling her eye.

"This is my dorm! Why...why are you...?" Keitaro didn't finish, but instead passed out on the floor.

The girl sobbed softly, for a long time.

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Again, with the damned sun! Why did it have to be so...bright?

Keitaro moaned, and slid his eyes open slowly. He was face to face with an angel. The morning sun was captured by her silky azure hair, making a golden halo around her lovely face. Her large, sapphire blue eyes gazed at his own as she knelt over him. As she came into greater focus, he noticed they way her hair clung to her flawless, snowy skin. He looked at her distraught yet gradually brightening face and realized she had been crying. Ever since he opened his eyes her caring smile had been growing, and he had to look away for a moment to keep from being overwhelmed by her beauty.

It was Shinobu! A new bruise had recently blossomed across her left eye. She had clearly been crying. She was hurt.

He leapt onto his feet, and promptly fell down and threw up.

"Careful, Sempai! Don't hurt yourself!" Shinobu returned herself to his side, ready with a washcloth she had made ready some time ago. She carefully cleaned his face of sweat and vomit.

"Shinobu" Keitaro choked through the burning stomach acid which had recently filled his mouth, "what happened to you?"

"Lay back, Sempai. You're tired and sick." Obeying her, he drank the water she offered him and allowed her to clean various light injuries on his body. From his appearance, it looked as though he had been dragged through a rose bush. He sported an array of light cuts and scrapes. His palms were covered with moderate abrasions, indicating he had tried to catch himself from falling several times.

"Shinobu! You have to tell me. It's my job to keep you safe. I promised your parents I would. Now tell me what happened."

"You - you don't remember?" she stammered. Thinking for a moment, she added, "I fell." Gold sunlight from the window caressed her face, and Keitaro noticed a subtle quivering of her jaw. Keitaro tried to remember what had gone on the night before. At that moment, Shinobu moved to his side so that she could sit on her futon. It only occurred at that moment to Keitaro that they were in her room. In the different light of Shinobu's new position, he could more clearly make out the bruise over her eye. Something about its shape disturbed him.

He had skipped dinner to go to the club...

He had met with Sakata, but then moved on...

He met with...

Haitani.

He had done it again. Keitaro became suddenly dizzy. He had done it again. How many times had he admonished himself for going in the first place? How many times had he wondered why a bloodied knife was in his possession? Yet he had gone right back to the Green Lady's side. He had shot up again.

Hating his weakness, Keitaro decided to attend to Shinobu as she had done for him. He moved closer and reached for her face to inspect the injury, but she flinched away from his touch.

"Shinobu, what's wrong?"

"Ah...nothing. I just got nervous..." She moved again, looking up at him, and her hair fell away from the bruise area. Keitaro was for the first time able to see the bruise in its entirety. He quickly became sick again, for he realized what was so troublesome about the wound. It spanned across the outside edge of her eye orbit, formed by four heavy marks which radiated damage outward. He gazed at the four marks and could only think of one thing.

Knuckles.

Each point was where a knuckle had hit. Shinobu had not fallen. She had been punched in the face by a hand too large to belong to a school bully. The fist size was perfect for a twenty-year old Japanese male. Keitaro had hit her.

"God, Shinobu. I'm so sorry," Keitaro sobbed, losing control and pulling the girl into a comforting embrace. "I didn't mean to. I would never..."

"I love you." It was unclear which of the two said it, but both of them certainly heard it.

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Shinobu's simple story was that she had been trying to remove a bottle of oil from a high shelf, and that the bottle had struck her in the eye on the way down. This story, combined with a carefully forged oil slick in the kitchen, provided an acceptable reason for her blackened eye, and the case was not pursued. Keitaro still caught hell that morning for skipping Shinobu's delicious dinner, and surely insulting her, so alleged the other four girls. It didn't help that his dereliction of duty was fairly grand, and the thrashing Motoko had tried to administer the night before was paid for threefold.

That said, with Shinobu's cooperation, Keitaro escaped the incident with little damage. His only injuries seemed to be a couple splinters he acquired repairing the damage Motoko's poorly aimed attacks had made on the inn itself.

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It was eleven at night, and Keitaro was headed for the door.

All the pain he had gone through was forgotten. All the pain he had caused, disregarded.

Nothing could stop him. There was no force in the world great enough to stop him from getting more. All day he had craved it. He could feel the pleasure of green tendrils wrapping around his veins. He had to get more Gasoline. He wanted another dance with the Green Lady. The power had faded away, and he wanted it back.

No force known to man could keep him from holding that level of power again.

Except one.

"Sempai!" Shinobu appeared from the darkness and blocked his path.

"Shinobu, I was...going...to walk..." Keitaro started off strong, carried by the greed for more of the drug. As he spoke, however, he was anchored by the dead weight of lying to her.

"Sempai, please stay home tonight. I don't want you to go back to the place that changes you." She looked at her feet throughout her proclaimation. "Let's go back to your room. I need to talk to you."

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Keitaro's room was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, and rather cold. He had neglected to fix the furnace vent leading to his room, prioritizing the warmth of the tenants, and the chill rain that had begun to fall outside dropped the room's temperature to uncomfortable depths. Shinobu and Keitaro, wrapped in layers of bedclothes, did their best to ignore the discomfort. They sat on his futon, staring at each other for a few minutes, trying to read each other's mind.

"Sempai," began Shinobu quietly, "is it drugs? We learned the warning signs in health class."

Slowly, Keitaro nodded, and hung his head in shame. "I didn't want you to know. I don't want you to think it's alright."

"I don't."

Keitaro was stung. He knew Shinobu looked up to him, but to hear her disapproval of his actions was very painful.

"You were going to get more."

Keitaro now stared at his knees.

"You would have come home some time later, and maybe hit me again."

His eyes began to water. Yes, those had been his intentions.

"The worst part would have been the danger you put yourself into."

Keitaro looked up, and saw that Shinobu was crying.

"I don't care what you do to me. But I can't let you go out there and do it again, because you'd be risking your life. You risk your life every time you take those horrible drugs. And I can't stand the thought of something happening to you." Unbidden, Shinobu threw herself into Keitaro's arms. He held her as though she might escape from him.

"Shinobu, I'll never hurt you again. I'll never do the drugs again. I promise."

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Don't you love a man of his word? I've got two more chapters outlined, with #4 in progress. As we know, Keitaro always keeps his promises, but that doesn't mean we've seen the last of Gasoline. I've placed some real trouble on Keitaro's horizon.

The date in the story is roughly two weeks before Christmas, and students and colleges all over the world are registering for spring classes.

Suffice it to say that Haitani really can't afford to lose customers right now.