Repercussions Chapter 12, a love hina fanfic

Chapter 12 at long last!

After so long I'm not going to hold anyone up with endless ranting, so I just want to say thanks to all my reviewers, I love you all! Additional thanks to rentauri for the feedback and discussion – I appreciate it a lot.

So, on with the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 12

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"So let me get this straight." Haruka said, massaging her temples. "Not only did Kanako show up here, but she got into an almighty scrap with Motoko, and now she's been banished from the Hinata-sou."

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." Keitaro replied, uneasy at the look in his aunt's eyes.

"Right." The dark-haired hostess withdrew her cigarette from between her lips, and exhaled a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. "So tell me, why did you take Motoko's side?"

"Eh?" The ex-ronin intelligently replied, clearly puzzled.

"Why did you insist on kicking your own sister, not flesh and blood but sister all the same, out of the Hinata-sou?" Seeing continued blankness on her nephew's face, Haruka sighed. The man could be beyond dense when it came to some of his housemates. "What I mean is, there was an argument. And it got nasty. From what you told me, it was Motoko who showed the first signs of disrespect, not Kanako."

"Well, um….." Keitaro found himself suddenly speechless. How had he missed that fact? Kanako loved him, maybe not in a way he was comfortable with, but loved him all the same. She had every right to make her point. On top of that, the youngest Urashima had no reason to trust Motoko – she had no knowledge of the swordswoman's vow or the circumstances it was based upon.

"I reckon that right now Kanako is feeling hurt, and not a little betrayed. She was trying to defend you, and in the end you sided with the one she sees as the enemy." Haruka withdrew the stub of her cigarette from her mouth and almost stubbed it out on the varnished floor, before realising that it wouldn't exactly endear her to the inn's matriarch (who happened to be upstairs at that very moment.)

"…..You know, I never saw it that way. You're right too….." The bespectacled man frowned, suddenly feeling remorseful. "Motoko did provoke her. She made the first physical threat. And she was going to draw her sword until Su stopped her…..." When faced with the facts like that, Keitaro couldn't help but think he might have misjudged the situation a little bit.

Or, to put it bluntly, made a major-league cock-up and let his sister down – one of the few individuals who had always supported him.

"You see, Keitaro-bozu, I'm not so interested in the fine details. What I want to know is why you went against Kanako?" Haruka stated bluntly, hands on hips.

"I don't know really." Keitaro replied vaguely, although he was beginning to form some kind of idea. "Maybe…..maybe it's because the girls here are like my new family. They rely on each other, and on me. I'd do almost anything for them."

"Including go against your real relatives?" The brown-haired man gave a rueful chuckle, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head.

"Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Is it because you want to keep Motoko here at all costs?" The scratching stopped as Keitaro stared at his aunt in shock.

"Wha-no! Well, yes, but….." The ex-ronin frowned slightly, casting his gaze to the floor and his blurred reflection within it. "I guess I want everyone to stay here. The last few years, although hard at times, have been some of the happiest off my life. This is my life now – you, Motoko, Shinobu, Mutsumi, Naru….." Keitaro paused, taking a slow breath. "I want to keep everyone together, keep things as they are. I know it's impossible for everyone to stay forever, but I'm happy dreaming that it could happen." He finished softly, not wanting to meet his aunt's eyes. For several moments not a sound was made, until Haruka huffed gently.

"So you saw Kanako as being someone who could upset the apple cart." A guilty nod was the reply. "Well, listen Kei-bozu. It's hardly like you're playing happy families at the moment, is it? Naru nearly drove you over the edge, Motoko is still drawing her weapon as an alternative to thinking, and I don't even want to mention Kitsune. Maybe your sister is seeing the real picture, and those specs you're wearing are rose-tinted." Haruka winced slightly at the brutal honesty she'd spouted, but getting her thoughts off her chest felt good all the same.

"Maybe you're right, Haruka-san." Keitaro replied quietly. "But if I've got rose-tinted glasses on, I'm happier wearing them."

"You can't let things go on like this forever….."

"Watch me try." Haruka and her nephew glared at each other, before Keitaro dipped his gaze. "Fine, I'll have a word with Kanako, and apologise. I definitely owe her that."

"While I have a friendly chat with Motoko and let her know that the agreement we have doesn't contain any special clauses." Seeing her nephew about to protest, the currently not smoking lady held up a hand. "I'm not going to kick her out, but I will be telling her that she's lucky you're fighting her corner. However, let me make it clear to you as well – I'm not going to put up with it any more."

"Fine." The brown-haired man acceded.

"Well, now we're sorted with that….." Haruka trailed off as errant footsteps thudded down the stairs, before a drunken fox lurched into view. The silver-haired girl looked particularly pleased about something – a fact that caused Haruka's eyes to narrow dangerously.

"Hey there, guys!" Mitsune cheered, drawing herself into some semblance of order. "I'm off down the shop for some snacks, anyone want me ta pick somethin' up for 'em?"

"Uh, no thanks Kitsune-san." Keitaro answered, missing his aunt's obvious annoyance.

"I'd like some aspirin. For the headache you're giving me." Haruka ground out.

"No probs!" The girl slinked over to the door, before turning and giving a cheery wave. "See y'all later!" With that she semi-fell through the open doorway into the snowy night, pulling it shut behind her.

"I swear that girl is going to be the death of me." Haruka muttered in exasperation, drawing a fresh cigarette from her packet and lighting up quickly.

"She's starting to worry me as well." Replied the brown-haired man, although with a totally different inflection. The pair stared at the now closed door in silence, wondering where Mitsune had conjured the money from, and what on earth she was going to do next.

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It seemed that Su had a slightly skewed perception on the events that had taken place around the dinner table. At least Kanako knew for certain that the Molmolian was pinning the whole thing on her.

The reason for her suspicions?

The mecha-Tama which had been following her around like a faithful pet for the previous two hours.

It wasn't that Kanako would have minded, after all, turtles weren't high on her phobia list (unlike a certain swordswoman, who probably would be quietly gurgling in a corner.) The problem was that the turtle came equipped with special features.

The most remarkable being a very large loudspeaker perched precariously upon its gleaming emerald shell.

This, on its own wouldn't have been a problem. Indeed, if it had been playing some decent music or maybe spouting a limerick or two, there might have been some entertainment value.

But it wasn't.

It wasn't even constantly blaring with offensive sound, or the most irritating songs known to humankind. It was doing something even more annoying.

Kanako didn't know how Su had managed it, but the little foreigner had tuned it to her voice, or maybe even her thought processes. Heaven knows how, but she had.

As a result every time Kanako opened her mouth to speak, the room was instantly filled with white noise, broadcast at glass-shattering volume from the loudspeaker sat atop the mecha-Tama.

The younger Urashima had tried to escape, but her adversary seemed to have every tracking mechanism in the book, from image recognition to infra-red to radar. She had attempted to remove the speaker, but after twenty minutes of very unsuccessful pursuit the girl had come to understand the cumbersome machine was agile as a salmon in water.

She had even tried to simply destroy the entire thing, but discovered that mecha-Tamas also possessed……countermeasures.

Hence a smoking and charred Kanako was limping through the lobby of the Hinata-sou, feeling well and truly fed up with life. She'd left grandma Hina in the springs with Mutsumi (about an hour after Su had gone mysteriously absent) deciding that the Okinawan's cheeriness was really beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Should've turned this place into a hotel while I had the chance….." She grated to herself, whilst white noise filled the room. The girl decided she'd had enough of the Hinata-sou for one day, and was fully intent on going outside to get some fresh air until grandma Hina was ready to leave.

"Whoops!" The black-haired girl was so intent on her musings that she nearly walked smack into Mitsune, who was furtively sneaking through the front door with large, clinking bags in each hand. "Ah, sorry. Wasn't payin' attention….." The fox trailed off when she realised exactly who she had just run into, and at the narrow-eyed look she was receiving.

"Konno-san." Kanako stated calmly, hands on hips. In response Mitsune covered her ears as a blanket of sound assaulted them.

"Su-chan musta perfected the anti-small-talk-Tama." The fox muttered, putting her bags down before pacing over to the floating mechanical turtle and twiddling a few knobs on its side. After a worrying few seconds of frantic beeping the machine's whirring ceased. It seemed to hang ponderously in mid-air for a moment, until gravity started paying attention and realised that it was back in control again.

And the turtle fell to the floor with an almighty 'thud'.

As Mitsune and Kanako looked on, a tiny fissure appeared on the bottom of the lower shell and spread, like ice splintering, all the way up the emerald shell. For a moment the clinking sound stopped, and both girls realised they were holding their breath. After several seconds of motionless silence, during which nothing interesting happened, the two decided it was safe to exhale.

And jumped as, with an almighty 'CRACK' the Tama split neatly in two.

As the two ends rolled away from one another, Mitsune sweatdropped.

"I reckon Su's gonna kill me for that….." It was at that moment that the still half-drunk woman realised that Kanako was eyeing her with somewhere between suspicion and outright hostility.

"How convenient we meet again."

"Uh, yeah." Mitsune replied, all too aware that as far as the girl before her was concerned, they had unfinished business. I wish I'd left the damn mecha-Tama on now…..

"I'm not going to beat around any bushes, it's not my style." Hands on hips, Kanako glared at the silver-haired woman. "What the hell were you doing in the springs with my brother?" The fox eyed up her adversary with a lazy eye.

"I'm gonna leave that up ta yer imagination, sugar. Sure it can fill in the blanks, y'know?" She replied in an easy drawl, looking completely unruffled.

"Is that so?" The youngest Urashima allowed a dark smile to appear. "Well, I'm thinking that someone who is so blatantly sneaking into the house with armfuls of booze would rather have me talk quietly than announce their presence at the top of my voice……" Mitsune's eyes widened in shock.

"You wouldn't." The deep inhalation Kanako took indicated that she, in all probability, would. "Okay, okay. I like the guy, alright? I was tryin' it on with him, and I damn well would've given the chance." For a moment the two women stared at each other, before the silver-haired one continued. "An' I reckon ya would too, given the chance."

"I'm not denying it." Came the cool response. Mitsune sighed slowly, before stepping to one side.

"Were ya goin' out?" Silently the brown-eyed girl nodded, before striding towards the open doorway. Pulling alongside the cautious fox, she paused mid-step.

"I'd be grateful if you left my brother alone."

"I'd be grateful if ya'd get it into your head that he's your brother." Mitsune snorted gently. "If I had a brother, I'd sure as hell be weirded right out if he started tryin' it on with me."

"But we're not related!" Scowled Kanako, voice taking on a defensive edge.

"But ya are. He's your 'brother' isn't he?" The silver fox growled in frustration as the girl beside her stubbornly refused to face facts. "Look kiddo, he can either be your brother, or your lover. No way in hell is he gonna be both. The guy don't know what to do with himself when yer usin' him as a climbin' frame. One thing I'm sure of is he ain't ever gonna go romancin' his sister." As her voice trailed off Mitsune took a deep breath and eyed the figure alongside her warily, wondering if she was going to be on the receiving end of a high-decibel mouthful. In the end, Kanako's response was both surprising and unexpected.

She simply walked out.

Mitsune stared after her in shock. No rejoinder? No cutting comment?

Shrugging minutely, the silver-eyed girl decided not to hang around the lounge with her hands full of drink – it might invite awkward questions, such as where the money came from.

A tiny noise, barely audible, suddenly drew the fox's attention. It sounded like a ticking. A ticking that seemed to be coming from the broken monstrosity that was sat in the middle of the room. As she watched, a sliver of smoke began to rise ominously from beneath the carapace…..

Mitsune didn't know she could move fast any more, but as an explosion rocked the house from the room she had just left, the fox was certainly glad that she did.

Scooping up the bottles strewn around her, Mitsune hurriedly rushed to her room before anyone could arrive to investigate the scene. Slipping through the doorway she set the heavy bags down, before emptying them of their contents. Holding a couple of bottles up to the light, the girl couldn't help but smile. Some good quality sake had been procured, and the best part was there was money to spare.

The silver-eyed girl slipped out of her red top and jeans, deciding to go for the comfort of her white nightgown while she enjoyed the best drink she'd had in ages.

Hopefully it'd help to stop her conscience screaming at her.

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Motoko relaxed in the steam, eyes closed. The day had proven to be another that was a little too eventful for her tastes. Between Kanako's obtrusive behaviour and another lecture from Haruka – one that left her in no doubt that she had no lives left to play with – it had been more trying than she had wanted, although sadly no more eventful than what seemed to be the norm at present.

The ebony-haired girl lay her head back against the smooth stone behind her, and stared up into the presently snow-free sky. Between all the fun and games that had been going on, she'd barely had time to pick up a revision book or perform a kata all day.

"Ah well." She murmured, willing the stress to leave her body. It was late, how late the young lady wasn't sure, but certainly after midnight. All the same, Motoko doubted that sleep was going to arrive imminently.

"Oh! Sorry Motoko-san, I didn't know you were here." Shinobu's voice drifted through the steam. "I'll come back later."

"No, it's no problem, Shinobu-chan." The kendoist could almost hear the hesitation of the violet-haired girl, and smiled gently. "I'd be happy for the company. Please, come and join me." Another moment of hesitation, before the sound of approaching splashing announced that she had been taken up on her offer.

"Thank you, Motoko-san." The short figure of the resident chef and home-maker became gradually more distinct, until Shinobu's figure became clearly visible through the shroud of mist that lingered above the still springs surface. Wordlessly, the girl took a seat opposite, cream towel fastened modestly around her chest.

"Any time, Shinobu-chan." This time, with the girl opposite clearly visible, Motoko didn't miss the obvious flinch. ""Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Not really……" Shinobu trailed off, peering down at her own reflection in the still waters. After a few seconds, the girl continued in a hushed tone. "By the way, I'd like to thank you for loaning me those old kimonos, and showing me how to wear one properly. I'll return them to you tomorrow, once they've been cleaned properly."

"No rush." The heir to the Shinmei-ryu shrugged, letting her head rest back again. "They don't fit me any more; you are welcome to keep them should you wish."

"I'd rather you had them back." Came a very definite reply. Motoko eased herself into a position where she could rest a single olive eye on Shinobu. The girl looked thoroughly woebegone.

"Well, if you insist, Shinobu-chan….."

"Stop calling me that!" At the unexpected outburst Motoko slowly raised her head again, to see the girl opposite trembling with frustration.

"Stop calling you what, Shinobu-chan?" The purple-haired girl almost growled at the unwanted suffix.

"Chan, of course! It makes me sound like a four year old!"

"If you haven't noticed, Shinobu…..san, it is common parlance to address a younger girl as 'chan'." Motoko replied slowly, eyebrows creasing into a frown. "I fail to see how it is of any great importance."

"It's very important!" The purple-haired girl insisted, refusing to drop the point. "It makes me look like the baby of the Hinata-sou. I'm sixteen now! I'd like to be addressed as an adult, the adult I am." The black-haired lady evenly gazed at the frustrated figure opposite.

"If you haven't noticed, everyone gets called by that around here from time to time." Mulling the idea over in her head, Motoko decided to go straight for the jugular. "Especially Keitaro, he refers to us all much the same."

"But it's different when he talks to me!" Shinobu took several deep breaths, trying to calm down after her outburst. "I know we've dropped the formality altogether, but when everyone else treats me like a kid, it's bound to rub off on him….." As the violet-haired head drooped, Motoko felt her heart go out to her young friend.

"I'm sorry, Shinobu-chan." Which turned out to be the wrong thing to say.

"I told you to stop saying that!" The diminutive girl yelled, springing to her feet.

"Why?" A third voice drifted through the mist, one that saw Motoko stiffen involuntarily. "What difference is it going to make?"

"All the difference, Haruka-san!" Shinobu cried vehemently, dashing the water with a swiping hand. "How am I supposed to be a woman when everyone treats me like a girl?"

"Shinobu, you are what you are." Seeing the violet-eyed girl about to retort, Haruka held up her hand. "Kiddo, what has the last week told you? All that business with kimonos, manners and graces? Has that honestly left you anywhere you weren't before?"

"Well, no, but……"

"Ah, come on Shinobu-chan. You've got to admit, it didn't do any good in the end." Seeing Shinobu too upset to reply, the older woman sighed gently. "I knew why you were doing what you were doing. And I also knew that, when it came to the crunch, it wouldn't make an ounce of difference. I tried to tell you so many times, there's no quick fix, no magic formula. Only time. That's the way life is." The violet-haired girl peered down at the still waters pooled around her waist, fringe hiding her face.

"Why did it have to be this way?" She eventually muttered, throat choked with emotion.

"Because life sucks sometimes." Came the even reply, not without compassion. "I'm thirty-plus, and I still wake up sometimes wondering what the hell everything is about. Don't forget, being older doesn't grant you the key to the world, or love, or anything. I'm sure Motoko will back me up on this." Haruka glanced at the swordswoman, who gave a solemn nod.

"I myself find myself at a crossroads, one that will have far-reaching consequences irrelevant of my choice. I know I'm not the person I used to be, but I'm not the person I'm going to be either." The raven-haired lady stated calmly, arms folded.

"I don't see what this had to do with me and Sem- Keitaro though……" Shinobu whispered, looking lost.

"Well, what it means is……you can't pretend to be someone you're not. You're Shinobu aged sixteen, and will be no matter how many tea ceremonies you perform." The café owner stated kindly. "You know what Keitaro said to me, just the other day? He said 'I wish the real Shinobu would come back'. I'm afraid you're stuck being a sixteen year old, at least until you turn seventeen. Just be happy you're someone that people love you all the same." For several long seconds the three figures remained silent, until the youngest spoke in a meek voice.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be little old Shinobu for a while yet…..might as well get used to it, right?" The violet-haired girl looked up, with an utterly defeated expression.

"I'm sorry Shinobu-chan. But you know none of us would want you to change, least of all Keitaro." Haruka murmured gently, placing a soft hand on the girl's shoulder. "And who knows? Maybe this time next year you'll look back and wonder what all the fuss was about." Shinobu slowly nodded once, resigned.

"We'll see, I guess. Thanks, Haruka-san." With that the small figure sloshed her way to the edge of the springs, before climbing slowly onto the wooden decking. "Oh, and Motoko-san…..if I could keep the indigo one, I think it really suits me……." Motoko couldn't help but smile at the request.

"Of course, Shinobu…..san." Although the towel-clad figure had her back to her, the swordswoman could almost see the rueful smile.

"Thank you, Motoko-san." With that the girl slipped through the bath's entrance, and was gone.

The pair still within the bath sat in silence until the sounds of movement disappeared, before letting out synchronous sighs.

"Poor girl." Motoko nodded, sinking deeper into the warm fluid.

"I agree. It seems her gamble did not pay dividends in the end." Haruka nodded, reaching for a cigarette before remembering that she'd left them in the changing room. Water and cigarettes do not a happy smoker make, after all.

"Keitaro told me as much." It suddenly seemed to occur to the heir to the Shinmei-ryu who she was sat in the baths with, as she suddenly stiffened and went quiet. Until Haruka laughed. "Ah, calm down would you? I haven't come in here to pick a fight, that's already done and dusted." The jovial tone suddenly became a little less jovial. "But be aware that there will be no more chances, no matter what my nephew says."

"Uh, right Haruka-san." Was the uneasy response.

"Good! Now, since we're clear on that..." Haruka relaxed back in her own chosen spot, examining her nails carefully. "I thought it was such a pleasant night that I'd come and unwind in the springs for a while. In fact, the night was so nice, that I invited my husband along to join me." Motoko nodded along drowsily as she revelled in the sensation of warmth, allowing herself to fully relax. Until…..

"What?!" The pale-skinned girl sprang to her feet, drawing her towel up with her. "Why didn't you tell me Haruka-san?"

"Oh, it must have slipped my mind." The woman stated simply, expression implacable. With a noise that could only be described as 'eep' Motoko ran like hell for the exit. As the sounds of clattering feet slowly faded, Haruka allowed herself a satisfied smile.

Having a husband around had its benefits.

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Mutsumi hummed to herself quietly, scanning her textbooks with a vague smile. It was time to get back to doing some work, the impromptu holiday seemed to be over.

In other words, the snow had melted, and there was no longer any easy way of avoiding lectures.

It was a welcome surprise to awaken in the morning and not find a white-laden landscape staring back at her. The cold and ice had never agreed with the Okinawan's frail and temperamental constitution. It seemed the wind had changed to a milder direction, and brought with it the warmth to thaw what had seemed to be an eternal frost.

The down side was that the air was moist.

The outcome was something that was between drizzle and downpour. It was the kind of rain that had decided it would go on all day if the mood took it.

Mutsumi wasn't overly fond of the rain either. Okinawa tended to be on the sunny side, and the long-haired girl found her smile was that little bit brighter when the weather was fine. Not to say her smile wasn't bright the rest of the time, but a little bit of blue sky always made life look that little bit sweeter.

"Mutsumi-san! Breakfast!" A call from outside her room caused the shapely woman to rise slowly from her desk, pulling her long mahogany hair into a loose bun. There would be time to do it up properly before going for the train. It was better than the alternative - Seta had offered to drive herself and Keitaro to university with him every morning, in the back of his trusty white van. However, the survival instinct had kicked in for both of the ex-ronins, who had politely but firmly declined. Plus, in all honesty, Mutsumi couldn't pretend she didn't enjoy travelling to the University with Keitaro. Especially since Naru had moved away, leaving just the two of them.

Mutsumi couldn't imagine that Keitaro had declined the offer with the same thing in mind, but the Okinawan was quite happy for the man to remain clueless as ever.

Drawing her long gown more tightly around her, the young woman strolled easily out of her room and made her way to the living room. As ever, the table was already full of chattering people. Su sat with a sizeable bowl before her, almost trembling at the thought of breakfast. Motoko relaxed peacefully by herself, seemingly happy to observe goings on. Haruka and Seta in casual conversation, the latter with a folded newspaper grasped in one hand and the inevitable tobacco stick in the other. Sara McDougall was slowly, and with apparent delight, grating a chopstick over Keitaro's head whilst his attention was upon a snoring Mitsune (who only came to the table because Shinobu wouldn't let her stay in bed).

Despite the awful weather, Mutsumi felt her usual smile grow brighter as she made her way to the table. In a way, this was her home away from home. Although she wouldn't give away her true family for the world, the foster family that made up the Hinata-sou had a special place in her heart.

Especially a certain one of them.

"Ready in a few seconds, everyone!" Came a familiar voice from the kitchen, one that made Mutsumi smile all the wider. Shinobu, back to her normal self.

Well, not quite. The girl was still a little edgy, and refused to really meet Keitaro's eyes. But, all in all, she was in a much better state than she had been only a few days before.

"Good morning Mutsumi-san." Motoko greeted calmly as the young woman sat in the seat alongside Keitaro. It had not gone unnoticed that Sara now sat on the Kanrinin's other side – Shinobu now taking a shine to the seat beside Haruka. However, no-one had mentioned it.

"Good morning yourself, Motoko-san. Going to cram school today?" The Okinawan politely responded, pouring her morning cup of tea.

"Yes. It is not wise to rest on one's laurels, after all." Mutsumi nodded in response. This was Motoko after all – anyone else may have been tempted to enjoy a little break after such a resounding success. But not the heir to the Shinmei-ryu. Although, hand on heart, Mutsumi was a little surprised by the devotion and dedication the raven-haired swordsmistress displayed to her aim of entering Tokyo University. Given that she seemed fated to inherit her family's school, it wasn't as if Motoko's future depended on making it.

"Ah! Sara-chan, cut it out!" It seemed that Keitaro had finally realised that he was going to have some very odd coloured dandruff that morning.

"Can it, dork." Sara replied snappily, albeit without any real venom. "It's not like you haven't got rubbish hair anyway, I'm just spicing it up a little." A long, slow look from the Kanrinin drew a frustrated sigh and a pout from the blond pre-teen, who sat down in her chair with a huff. "Sheez, you're no fun."

"Now now Sara, you know the last time you put shavings in Keitaro's hair half the class thought he had head lice." Seta chided mildly, turning over a page in the newspaper. Once Keitaro had returned to something approaching his normal colour and everyone else had finished laughing, Shinobu emerged from the kitchen with the first of several bowls, all laden with mouth-watering foods.

Which effectively drew conversation to a halt for quite some time.

It was after about ten minutes that something drew Mutsumi's attention. It was the fact that, every so often when he thought no-one was looking, Keitaro would stare at the comatose and snoring figure of Mitsune who was slumped face down on the table. The Okinawan couldn't quite work out exactly what the man was doing, but couldn't ignore a few faint stirrings of unease nonetheless.

After half an hour and several satisfied compliments, the final dish was cleared away, and the sound of washing up emanated from the kitchen. Su was the one actually responsible for once – not that she was actually doing the work herself, but the girl had at some point decided to make a machine which would rinse, dry, stack and shelve plates all in one fell swoop. The machine somewhat resembled a massive spider – a small central body with numerous arms and legs bristling from it. It was proudly christened 'The wishy-washy two-point-two' by it's Molmolian creator. The reason it was version two-point-two was because the first couple of attempts had not been without their little foibles – there was still china embedded in the ceiling, and a curious hole in the middle of a dinner plate that could have only been created by some seriously vigorous polishing.

Today, however, things seemed to be working just fine.

No-one had died yet, in any case.

"Here's your lunch!" Shinobu called, depositing three neatly wrapped bentos on the communal table for the two Tokyo university students and one aspirant to pick up, before making herself scarce to prepare for school.

"So, Ura-Keitaro, any plans for today?" Motoko asked politely, strolling back into the room dressed for the weather, navy umbrella grasped easily in her left hand.

"Well, nothing really." Keitaro replied, scouring the room for his own umbrella. "The usual – go to lectures, piece together some pottery, have it broken over my head again by Sara, go to the rest of the lectures, do some studying, come home." The Kanrinin scratched the back of his head carelessly, sheepish smile on his face. "When you put it that way, Tokyo University doesn't seem so glamorous, does it?"

"Oh I don't know, Kei. It sounds like just what I want." Motoko replied surely, olive eyes flashing with intent. "In any case, I'm going to bid you adieu, else I will be late. And as I have stated in the past, I do not tolerate tardiness well. Including my own." The present and the ex-ronin caught one another's eyes briefly as a private joke passed between them. The moment was gone in a flash as Motoko spun on her heel and strode to the door, before throwing it open and disappearing out into the steady downpour.

"Ara. Shall we go, Kei?" Mutsumi murmured gently, eyeing the unrelenting rain with a hint of distaste.

"Give me a sec." The bespectacled man searched around briefly for a few moments, before cupping his hands to his mouth. "Su-chan!"

"Hiya Keitaros!" The tan girl sprang into sight seemingly from nowhere, school skirt settling easily around her legs as she landed.

"Su-chan, have you seen my umbrella?" Su put her finger to her mouth, adopting the classic 'thinking' pose.

"Uh, nah, I don't think so."

"Okay." Keitaro took a deep breath. "Su-chan, can you remind me what happened with the wishy-washy two-point-one? It seems to have slipped my mind." Su beamed happily, back on firmer ground.

"Well, it went boom! After causing nearly three hundred thousand yen worth of damage, though."

"And almost killing three people?"

"Nah, that plate missed Shinobu's head by at least six millimetres. I reckon if that fork had nailed you properly you'd still have made it too. Although probably not all of you." The Molmolian stated happily, as if near-death experiences involving cutlery were ten a penny. "Come to think of it, are you still applying that cream three times a day?" Keitaro reddened at the inquisitive chocolate gaze, whilst Mutsumi ached to know exactly what the Kanrinin had had to apply cream to.

"Well yes, but…..that's not the point. I thought it was a promise between me, you and Shinobu to never bring that up again." Su grinned cheerily.

"You started it!" The brown-eyed man couldn't argue, as technically he had.

"That's not important. What I mean to get around to, is why did the 'perfect kitchen assistant' go on a mad killing spree?" Keitaro spelled out with seemingly limitless patience.

"That's easy! I didn't factor in the use of soapy water. Once it hit the control box, the AI got a little upset."

"Ara, upset? It took three people to get that knife out of the floor." Mutsumi murmured, hand touching her mouth.

"Well, if it had really gotten angry, you'd be cleaning up the kitchen wall with a hoover." Keitaro sighed at the endless sidetracking, and decided to get straight to the point.

"Su-chan, what did you use to damp-proof the wishy-washy two-point-two?" Su once again assumed the 'pondering' stance, before breaking out into a beaming smile.

"I found a sheet of waterproof stuff, and stuck it over the controls."

"Was this waterproof stuff attached to something else? Like a little metal stick? Maybe with lots of little metal spokes coming out of it?" The dark-skinned girl nodded eagerly, smile still happily in place. "So, what you in fact did, was use my umbrella to waterproof your latest creation?"

"Well, not all of it." Su pouted, obviously stung by the accusation. "I used some of it to reinforce the stacking arm, it got bent out of shape when I sat on it." Keitaro sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"So why did you tell me you haven't seen it?" The diminutive figure looked puzzled.

"Because I haven't. You can't see it from the outside, I'd have to take the front panel off." The two university students blink-blinked in unison, remembering that normal everyday logic didn't always apply to Koalla Su.

"Okay, fine then." Keitaro straightened up, stretching his back carefully. "We'd better be going, otherwise we'll miss the train. If we do, the alternative doesn't bear thinking about." The brown-haired man glanced over at Seta, who was stood beneath the awning on the front porch and watching the falling rain with an appreciative air.

The two mahogany-eyed students shuddered.

"Ara, I have to agree with you there." Mutsumi nodded, but then paused. "So Kei, what are you going to do today? I wouldn't like to try recovering your fragmented umbrella from inside that wishy-washy thing." The man stood beside her zipped his sturdy winter jacket up to his neck, wishing not for the first time that Sara hadn't stolen the hood.

"I suppose what I'm going to do is get wet." He stated briefly, before striding to the doorway and out onto the front porch.

"Sure I can't talk you into a ride, part-timer?" Seta suggested casually, leaning back against the wooden rail, cigarette butt inevitably present.

"Thanks but no thanks, Seta-san." Came the reply as the kanrinin took one last deep breath, before stepping out into the energetic downpour.

He didn't get as wet as he'd expected.

The sound of soft pattering above him drew his gaze upwards, where his eyes rested on an aquamarine canopy. The gaze travelled down along the handle, up a red-jacketed arm and then up into the face of Mutsumi, who was stood half a pace behind, her umbrella sheltering them both.

"Kei, you don't want to catch a cold." The girl stated definitely, stepping alongside him. "Now it's not the biggest umbrella, but it'll do for the two of us….." Mutsumi trailed off, anxiously biting her lip whilst mahogany eyes pleaded with Keitaro to accept her offer.

For a few moments, the only sound was the pattering of raindrops.

"Yeah. That'd be nice, Mutsumi." The Okinawan almost jumped for joy at the positive reply, one that was accompanied by the most genuine smile the girl had seen her friend wear in months.

"No problem, Kei." In her delight, Mutsumi reverted back to her old way of expressing happiness.

In short, she leaned up and kissed Keitaro flush on the lips.

Cue another pause.

"Ara, sorry..." Mutsumi blushed and turned her head away, feeling thoroughly awkward.

"Mutsumi……it's okay." The girl peeked out of the corner of her eye and saw her friend looking down at her with a neutral expression. "You caught me by surprise that's all. You used to kiss everyone, although it's been a long time." The neutral expression faded, to be replaced by a gentle smile. "Don't make it so long before the next time, okay?" Mutsumi peered up into the irises that matched her own for a long second, before feeling a grin sweep across her own face.

"You've got it, Kei." The feminine Okinawan moved herself a few inches closer to her friend, until her shoulder was resting against the crook of his arm. At the contact Mutsumi allowed herself a few moments of blissful contentment, imagining a future where every rainy day saw her huddled together with her beloved, sharing the same umbrella, the same space, the same warmth.

I think I could stay here forever…..

"Come on, let's go for the train. Otherwise it's the white van for us." Keitaro murmured softly, disturbing the daydream.

"Do you want to hold the umbrella?" The girl asked, offering the handle to her friend.

"No, it's fine as it is." Keitaro reassured. For the first time ever, as Keitaro edged in yet closer to stay out of the rain, Mutsumi was glad her umbrella was that bit smaller than average.

As the pair disappeared down the staircase-cum-waterfall, Seta threw his cigarette end to the floor and stubbed it out before slipping back into the house with a smile.

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Motoko stared into the middle distance, chin propped on a cupped hand.

It was unlike the swordsmistress to not pay attention to her teacher, and utterly unheard of for her to be ignorant of her surroundings. To the point where the rest of her classmates were watching her in uncertain silence, and wondering whether the end of the world had come.

The raven-haired girl was unaware of this however, as she let the tiniest hint of a sigh escape through her lips. To say her mind was miles away would be quite accurate – it was actually three miles away, back at the Hinata-sou. Motoko sighed again, this time more audibly, drawing a raised eyebrow from her teacher. The thirty something lady watched her usually most attentive pupil's blank-eyed stare with puzzlement, before deciding with an internal shrug that everyone was allowed a bad day occasionally.

As the auburn-haired woman swept an errant lock behind her ear and went back to explaining geometry, the rest of the class came to the unanimous decision that, boring as maths was, it was still preferential to watching a human statue.

Through all the curiosity Motoko sat completely unaware, grappling with more troubling issues.

The first of which was her behaviour a few days ago.

Yes, Kanako had pushed all of the right buttons. And yes, the younger Urashima had stepped over the line.

However, so had she.

She hadn't even tried to be civil, which was disappointing. Although there was history between Kanako and most of the Hinata residents, it was unbecoming of an adult to allow it to automatically cloud judgement. However, this was only a minor point of annoyance to the swordsmistress.

The thing that did scare Motoko was the speed with which she made the dispute physical.

There was no need for it, really. She could have continued arguing, she could have said nothing at all and let Kanako burn herself out. She could even have walked away.

But no. She had reached for her sword instinctively, seeking it to end a dispute that should never have happened in the first place. When it came to the crunch, her first response was always to try and fight her way out of the predicament. What was initially a war of words became a full physical battle, something that was completely unnecessary.

What really shook Motoko was the memory that followed. One of glancing at Keitaro out of the corner of her eye, and seeing fear written clear as crystal in the Kanrinin's deep hazel eyes. Fear of her, her power and her aggression.

For reasons that she couldn't fathom, that sight hurt far more than any of the words that Kanako may have launched her way. She had seen the same expression many times in the past (often from very close proximity as she prepared to sent the brown-haired man into low earth orbit) yet it had never really affected her. Perhaps it was because the look was that much more intense now than it ever had been – the endless stream of pervert bashings had left more than physical scars on the Kanrinin.

Or possibly because Motoko had grown to genuinely love the clumsy ex-ronin, and the knowledge that he still secretly feared her was like pouring vinegar on an open wound.

In all honesty, the swordswoman couldn't blame him.

"...ma-san..."

After all, until the last few months, she'd threatened his life on a daily basis.

"Aoyama-san..."

Given that history, who could blame him?

"Aoyama-san!"

"Wha?" The olive-eyed girl suddenly sat bolt upright, seeing the teacher and every one of her classmates peering at her with interest. It took the elegant girl all of ten milliseconds to regain her composure, but no-one missed the tiny blush that tinged the normally pale cheeks a faint shade of rose.

"Nice to see you're with us again." The teacher stated calmly, albeit with a hint of humour. "Now, I was going to ask you to explain the solution to this puzzle, but as you've been on another planet for the last ten minutes it would be a pointless exercise. Is that correct?" Motoko wanted nothing more than to sink down in her seat and hide until the end of the lesson.

However, this being Motoko, the idea was out of the question.

"Yes. I apologise, Kurosawa-sensei." The girl intoned with a solemn nod.

"Apology accepted, Aoyama-san. Perhaps you could give me an answer, Kasuga-san?" As the teacher's attention fixed on another pupil – one that probably had even less chance of getting it right than Motoko – the swordsmistress found her mind inexorably drifting back to the matters in hand.

It wasn't just recent actions that were troubling her. It was also the dilemma underlying them – a dilemma that had been approaching for a long time.

Motoko had always known that she would be the heir to the Shinmei-ryu at some point. It was the way things were, a reality that she had at various times both rejoiced and abhorred, but always known to be the truth.

Now, however...

Now, for the first time in her life, the young woman's future appeared hazy. She really didn't want to let her sister down, but she really really didn't want to leave the Hinata-sou. Possibilities that the girl had never really considered were coming into view, all of them tempting in their own way.

Because they would allow her to stay with Keitaro.

As the bell rang, signifying the end of the cram school day, Motoko resolved to focus on the present, and the Tokyo-U examinations. Getting into the university was her top priority, and after that...

After that, who knows?

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Well, that's that for now. I got some significant tellings off for my use of cliffies, so I thought it'd be nice to have a break from them.

Can't promise there won't be one in the next chapter though...

'Til next time!

Nodoka Miyazawa.