Repercussions Chapter 18, a love hina fanfic

Okay, it's been almost 4 weeks, and I apologise to anyone who has been waiting!

I'm not quite sure when the decision for this chapter actually arrived. I think it must have been at the moment Keitaro said 'no' to Shinobu, ever since then I've had an inkinling of what is going to happen. This chapter gives one of the two left standing an answer, at least for the time being...

It's fair to say I've drawn things out for long enough.

This chapter goes out to Tezza who has been a significant influence on my writing, Bob who has been a good friend and helpful voice and my wonderful fiancée who has not only put up with me spouting nonsense but also performed the onerous task of beta-reading this chapter.

Time to commence, methinks.

Repercussions – Chapter 18

Kaolla Su was doing something she had never done before.

Thinking.

Well, that's a bit incorrect. In truth, the hyperactive princess did more than her fair share of thinking. How else to explain the endless list of inventions which ranged from the wacky to the insane, each one of which was in some way ground-breaking or rules-of-physics bending. Or the knowledge and intelligence which could rival the best and the brightest Japan had to offer.

No, Kaolla Su was not unaccustomed to thinking.

Perhaps a better word would be considering.

Su had never been too bothered with the potential of her machinations. When she created something it was for fun, or a reason that made perfect sense for one single perfect moment when the context was right. She had never bothered with dull old practicalities; because they were so……dull.

But they didn't seem so boring the night before.

Hence Su was mooching in her favourite hammock, located in the very depths of her room. Lazily her two hands set to peeling a single banana almost of their own accord, while their owner stared up blankly at the mock-sky projected upon her ceiling. It had been one of her favourite creations, the panorama projector. Set the program to day or night, rain or shine and you would be greeted with whichever skyscape suited your mood. Normally the girl would have it set to something along the lines of 'Mediterranean Sunshine', or perhaps 'Tropical Storm' if something energetic was in order. Today, it was simply tuned to 'Wet Welsh Wednesday' – sunshine seeming out-of-place with her current mood.

Idly the tan figure slung a slim leg over the edge of her string cradle, letting out a very un-Su-like sigh. She could make a purpose-made sunset with the flick of a switch, or track a ronin to the edges of the earth with consummate ease. But when something actually important came along…..

The girl huffed in frustration when the moments ran through her head for what seemed to be the thousandth time. She had frozen, yes. But in the seconds that followed, the girl had hurriedly scanned through each and every invention she could think of in the hope of finding some way of helping her comatose friend.

She had come up completely dry.

Everything had armaments, or radar, or loudspeakers. What they didn't have was anything actually useful.

For the first time in her life, Su had actually asked herself an important question. What was the point? Sure, lots of countries in the world would pay with blood for the kind of technologies she created. And no doubt, bits and pieces like her sky projector could make untold millions. Even the secret of how to turn what was at most a twelve-tatami-mat room into a tropical paradise would interest someone. All the same, it didn't seem to matter so much to the youthful princess when she realised that all the money and inventions in the world weren't half as much fun without people to share them with.

Rolling over in the hammock, the girl peered with aquamarine eyes at the mechanical mess strewn beneath her present resting place with uncharacteristic frustration. It had turned out that practicality was actually quite……impractical. The Molmolian had spent the morning reconstructing one of her later mecha-Tama models, one capable of taking on an Apache helicopter single-handed, and trying to make it useful for something other than total destruction on a grand scale.

One word could be used to sum her efforts thus far.

FAIL.

Not something Su was accustomed to, or could accept. So absorbed in her work had the girl become that her stomach had to remind her of her missed breakfast with a growl a ten-foot Bengal tiger would be proud of. Now, half a sheaf of bananas and much lounging later, the pile of wreckage and notes occupying the floor was not an appealing prospect. In fact, the tiny girl would rather scale Everest dressed only in sandals (again...) than go back to trying to deal with things like reality and practicalities.

The image of an unconscious figure forced a sigh from her lungs, and her body from its resting place. Picking up a wrench, Su barely registered the activation of her motion-sensors, indicating someone was brave (or stupid) enough to trespass into her room uninvited. Well, it was no problem, her security settings were on high alert and any intruder would be removed from the premises with extreme prejudice (and if they were lucky, all limbs intact). Therefore anyone who made it to her certainly wanted her attention, and probably deserved it too.

Reaching over to the seating unit and deciding to try fitting belts which were more suited to comfort than resisting six-G acceleration, the tan girl barely cracked a smile as the distant sound of high-pitched yelping and frantic running filtered through the tropical air, before the sound of a door slamming announced the exit of her unwanted visitor. She had enough to do without entertaining guests as well.

"Make yourself at home, Imoutosan." Motoko intoned calmly, ushering her older sister into her room with a half-smile, one Tsuruko returned in full as she paced into Motoko's abode. Quickly the swordsmistress gave the living place an appraising scan, nodding in satisfaction as trained eyes took in her clean and neat surroundings. The present head of the Shinmei-ryu family had always appreciated tidiness, and no doubt her younger sister's room had been rearranged specially for her visit.

Tsuruko wasn't sure if she should be impressed or dismayed by the lengths Motoko would go to in order to avoid her wrath.

"Please, take a seat." Accepting her sister's offer but ignoring the gesture towards the one chair in the room, Tsuruko settled on her knees and smoothed the creases from her midnight-blue kimono with the ease of one utterly accustomed to doing so. Reaching down, the raven-haired woman unhooked her katana from its traditional place on her left hip and placed it flat upon the mat before her, hearing her sister's breathing pause as she did.

"Imoutosan, what are you……"

"Will you not join me, Oneechan?" Tsuruko remarked over her shoulder, voice betraying nothing. "After all, you requested an audience with yours truly, and I am currently resting in your room at your invitation. Perhaps any further conversation should take place in the correct manner, face to face?" Behind the kneeling woman Motoko stiffened, olive eyes creasing into an expression of worry. Determined not to freeze at such an important moment, the slim girl forced herself to walk around Tsuruko before assuming the same position opposite her, waiting for some indication that she could speak.

"Motoko-chan. The very fact you wished for me to journey to see you suggests the issue you wish to discuss is important. It also suggests the subject is one you would rather not have aired to the entire Aoyama clan. Am I correct?" The older woman summed succinctly, in a way that sent shivers up Motoko's spine. When answered by the merest of nods, Tsuruko continued in the same tone of calm confidence. "I feel my prompt arrival has confirmed my awareness that you are not, in fact, merely inviting me for a sisterly chat over tea and cake. So pray tell, Oneechan, what is it that you wish to bring to my attention?"

Motoko glanced from her sister's picture-perfect expression of patient interest to the sword laid like a declaration before her, and swallowed urgently as the facts became clear.

She knows.

"Ah, Oneesan, I just wanted to….."

"I suggest you do not procrastinate, Imoutochan. The truth will not change over the course of but a few seconds." A thinly veiled edge in her older sister's voice halted Motoko's stumbling in an instant. Knowing Tsuruko to be right, the young woman took a deep breath and all the courage she could find.

"Oneesan, I…..I wish to renounce my place as heir to the Shinmei-ryu." The younger woman forced herself to hold the steady stare which pinned her like a butterfly to the wall. "I feel my future is not in the way of the sword, but academia. It is not a decision I have arrived at lightly."

"I see." Tsuruko stated blandly, voice cool. "What of the school? It is not merely your future you are altering by making such a declaration." Gesturing to the katana before her, the pregnant lady frowned minutely at her sister. "Surely you realise the lineage of the school would be placed in jeopardy by such an act?"

"And what of it?" Motoko replied just as blandly. "Why does the Shinmei-ryu rest upon my shoulders? Who decreed it my burden and mine alone to bear?"

"It is the way it is." Came the simple answer, although the frown on Tsuruko's face was now far less minute.

"Was." Sensing her sister about to speak Motoko held up a firm hand, feeling a confidence she could never remember possessing. "Something I have always wondered, Oneesan. Why is it that you have to give up the school to me? What immaculate doctrine bestowed this divine judgement?"

For the merest of moments, Tsuruko did something her sister had never known her to do. Hesitate.

"Imoutochan, the decision has been made….."

"By who?" Staring into the familiar face of her sister, the older woman knew the tables had turned.

"It is the way of the school." Seeing a hint of accusation creeping into the olive eyes opposite, Tsuruko held up a placating hand. "The eldest female member of the Aoyama family who has not wed is destined to take over the role unless it is decreed otherwise. Hence, I am currently a placeholder until you ready to assume your position as head of the Shinmei-ryu."

"What prevents you from continuing?" Motoko asked, tone clipped and direct.

"I have already stated the reason, Motoko-san. It is the way of the school, and as a result not my decision."

"It is."

Tsuruko blinked at the sudden statement from her sister, before her eyes narrowed slightly. "Sister, I believe you are mistaken. This decree had been in place for generations, and as it was made by the founding head of the house it is law. It is out of my hands." Instead of the resignation she had expected to see from the younger woman, Motoko had narrowed her own eyes until barely a silver of green could be seen from between the lids.

"Oneesan, who is the head of the Shinmei-ryu at present?"

"We both know the answer to that question, Imoutosan." Staring blankly at the lady opposite her, Tsuruko wondered where Motoko was going with her line of question.

"Then am I correct in saying that it could, in fact, be your decision?" The younger Aoyama stated, arms folded defiantly. "Being head of the school places you in a position where you have the right and the power to make important choices. Such as who is to be the next leader, and when." Leaning forward, Motoko took care to enunciate each word with utter conviction. "I am making it your decision, Oneesan. I am requesting that the current head of my school overlook the heir apparent, and either retain the title or select another. This is all I have to say on the matter." Gazing keenly at her sister, the kimono-clad student detected a flicker of surprise breaking through Tsuruko's impassive mask. It was almost instantly back in place, this time with overtones of anger, but not before Motoko knew her words had struck home.

"I see." The mother-to-be stated, in a way that suggested whatever she 'saw' was far from pleasant. The following silence almost buzzed with tension, occupied by a staring contest which would have sent any onlooker scurrying from the room in fear of their life.

"So?" Motoko prompted, patience wavering.

"…..You expect me to make such a judgement on the spur of a moment?"

"To paraphrase, I suggest you do not procrastinate, Oneesan." Motoko stated coolly.

"I am unwilling to be rushed into giving you an answer purely because you lack patience, Imoutosan. Perhaps the absence of responsibility in your life has left you unaware of the price one may pay by making spur-of-the-moment decisions." Came the reply, equally chilly in tone.

"Be that as it may, my decision is one I have considered long and hard. It is not one amenable to change." Annoyed by Tsuruko's evasion, the younger Aoyama pushed on. "I wish to know my fate now, not in the indeterminate future."

"You must insist, must you not? Fine, but remember my response is not the considered statement I would wish it to be." The blue-clad figure cast a glance to the ceiling, eyebrows creased in thought. Eventually she came to a decision, and faced her sister once again with a solemn expression. When the words came they were quiet and resigned, but firm. "I understand your desires, but do not wish to go against the wishes of my ancestors, Imoutosan."

Motoko felt her blood run cold.

"Is that your final decision, Oneesan?" She asked, suddenly breathless.

"If you wish my decision to be made now, yes." Tsuruko answered, face and voice calm. "I would appreciate more time to consider things, but my thoughts are currently proceeding along that path. It is your choice, Imoutosan."

Faced by the options of a certain 'no' and a probable 'no', Motoko decided that waiting a short time couldn't hurt. It would at least give her time to accept her future as a ronin in more ways than one.

"Well, I will allow you time to consider your decision. But please do not take too long in your considerations, Oneesan. The sooner I know of my fate, the sooner I can make plans for the future." Her older sister raised an eyebrow at the oddly resigned statement, but decided not to comment.

"Very well. I shall let you know within a few days." Deciding the conversation was over, Tsuruko eased to a standing position with grace unbecoming of someone apparently due to give birth at any given time. "I will take my leave now, Imoutochan. Good day to you."

"Good day, Oneesan." Her younger sister answered automatically, sight and thoughts obviously already elsewhere. It took Motoko some time to realise her sister had not left, and was instead half-turned in the doorway, regarding her with an odd look. "Oneesan?"

"I know why you are doing this, Imoutochan. Or should I say 'for whom'?" Six months previously, Motoko would at least stammered out a denial, and at most vehemently (and probably violently) decried such a statement. As it was her reply was merely a few words.

"Then you will know that my mind is made."

"I have a simple question for you, Motoko-chan." Tsuruko paused briefly, as if considering her choice of words. "I believe I am growing to understand the depths of your affection for your dear Kanrinin. But what would you do if your feelings are not returned, or he only has eyes for another?"

For the merest second, the raven-haired girl knelt upon the floor felt her breath hitch in her chest and her mouth fill with sand. It was the work of a moment to gather her composure, and voice the certainty she knew to be true.

"I would stay by his side all the same, Oneesan. In whatever capacity I may." Her older sister studied her for several seconds, before nodding.

"I see." With that the woman spun on her heel and left the room, casting a farewell over her shoulder as she did so. Within the room, Motoko remained in place, staring blankly at one of the plain white walls which made up her personal space. The ex-swordsmistress had no doubt in her decision, none whatsoever. She was content to stay in this place, with the people she knew and loved, with the man she loved. However that may be possible, in whatever role she may have to occupy.

So why was that, despite this solemn vow, the thought of Keitaro being with someone else had the power to chill her soul so completely?

Shinobu had been, to put it bluntly, shocked at the sight that greeted her upon arrival at the hospital. After being directed down endless corridors and through enough doors to replace every single specimen destroyed in the Hinata-sou over the past half-decade, she had eventually arrived at a door marked 'HDU'. Despite Keitaro's warnings, seeing a close friend tangled like an insect in a web of criss-crossing wires and tubes was not a pleasant sight. After her first glance a rather strict-looking nurse, whose appearance suggested she could eat the diminutive girl for breakfast and then have Keitaro for dessert, had ordered her to wash her hands before approaching the bedside.

The violet-ette had taken the opportunity to try and calm down, something she achieved semi-successfully with Keitaro's hand on her shoulders. And so it was that the pair had settled beside Mitsune's bed and were currently trying to work out where to hang the picture they had brought with them.

"D'you think we could hang it above the bed?" The ex-ronin asked, gesturing towards the ceiling. "She'd be bound to see it there."

"What would we hang it from?" Shinobu replied, scanning the bare surface above her. "There's nothing to tie it to, and I reckon the nurse wouldn't like something dangling from a string which had been blu-tacked to the roof."

"Yeah, I guess." Keitaro sighed, dropping his gaze back to the bed. "Besides, it probably contravenes some health and safety regulation or other. To be honest, even breathing probably breaks some health and safety regulations….."

"How about at the end of the bed?" The girl pointed to the foot end of Mitsune's current resting place, seemingly not noticing that once again there was nothing to actually affix the picture on to.

"Don't think that'll work." Peering around the bed space, the bespectacled man shook his head. "On the regular wards they've got bedside tables, but they seem to be in short supply around here."

"Hmmmmm." Shinobu gestured to the frame of the bed at the comatose fox's head end. "There? Enough space, and it's close by as well."

"But it's behind her….."

"She can turn round, can't she?"

"How about on that thing by there?"

"Nah, the notes are kept on there. It'd be in the way."

"Do you have any better ideas?" Keitaro and Shinobu paused in their bickering, levelling glares which were more amused than annoyed at one another.

"Ohhhh, guys, keep it down would ya….." Instantly losing interest in their mock-argument, both visitors turned to the bed to find dull eyes peering at them from between slitted lids. Normally Mitsune would have found some way to wise-crack at the matching expressions of shock she received, but at that moment in time the fox couldn't even crack stupid.

"M-Mitsune-san?" Shinobu demonstrated her ability to state the obvious with typical aplomb.

"Gawd. I feel rotten. Ugh…." Fighting the urge to retch, the prone girl began to take in the numerous attachments and tried to work out which were making her less than comfortable. She could think of one instantly that she would rather not have, but given where it was decided to leave it well alone. The most annoying one was something which was giving her nose hell and obstructing her throat. Blearily she reached up to give it a tentative tug, only to find her grasping fingers restrained gently by a warm palm.

"Leave it be, Mitsune-chan." Opening her eyes a fraction more, Mitsune took in the anxious face of her Kanrinin as he held her wayward hand gently.

"Kei-kun." She murmured, suddenly a lot more awake.

It was the matter of moments before her body realised she was, in fact, fully alert. As it began sending a variety of unpleasant messages of various types and priorities, the fox sincerely wished it hadn't.

"Ohhhh gawd….." It was nothing more than a moan, but it conveyed a lot judging by how Shinobu leapt to her feet and announced her intention to find the 'hefty' nurse. Wondering with the few brain cells not occupied by her present predicament how her nurse came to be known as 'hefty', Mitsune instead focussed on the man still at her bedside, and still holding her hand. "Hiya Kei-kun. Lookin' well." The girl croaked, mouth dry as a tinder box.

"Wish I could say the same for you." Replied Keitaro, with a completely different kind of dryness.

Mitsune gave a throaty chuckle, and instantly wished she hadn't.

"Remind me not to – ulp….." To the Kanrinin, the sound of Mitsune retching was far too familiar, yet no easier to ignore. Aimlessly, the man rubbed her shoulder and waited for help to arrive.

Soon as it did, Mitsune needed no further explanation as to why her nurse was referred to as 'hefty'.

"If you would step outside, please?" The large woman stated in a tone which brooked no argument, before drawing the curtains firmly closed in the faces of the evicted pair. Briefly they shifted again as a man with a stethoscope slipped through them, and then the only input from within was the murmuring of hushed conversation.

Blinking slowly at the floral-patterned fabric inches from his nose, Keitaro turned slowly to look down at Shinobu as she mirrored his actions.

"Wait outside, maybe?" The diminutive girl offered, shrugging her narrow shoulders.

"Sounds good." Allowing Shinobu to lead, Keitaro followed her to the 'relatives room' and the welcome cup of coffee it would inevitably contain.

It transpired the relatives' room was a comparatively comfortable place, the only one Keitaro had seen in the hospital with a carpet and sofas rather than chairs. Decked out in a tranquil shade of blue with seascapes adorning its walls from their dark wooden frames, it would actually have been quite pleasant were it not for the pervading scent of bleach, an odour capable of penetrating even the most potent of air fresheners.

Without prompting Shinobu whipped up two cups of coffee (white, one with sugar, one with sweetener) and the pair reclined on a semi-comfortable settee, sitting side-by-side in companionable silence. Sipping at her drink, the teenager allowed her shoulders to tilt until they came into contact with those of the man beside her. As they did, Shinobu let an ever so slightly rueful smile pass her lips when Keitaro shifted slightly to ensure she was comfortable before relaxing himself.

"Nice to hear her voice isn't it?"

"Mmmmm." Keitaro agreed vaguely, eyes fixed but obviously unseeing on the curtain-shrouded window before him.

"Hope this means she'll be okay….." The petite girl added, awaiting a response. None was forthcoming.

Blowing across the surface of her hot drink, Shinobu took the opportunity to study the man she rested against. Tired, yes, that was to be expected. Tense as well, but in all honesty the girl could understand that. But on top of that, there was an odd sense of brooding emanating from her Kanrinin. For a moment Shinobu weighed up whether to enquire or not, until her natural desire to help won out.

"Something wrong, Kei?" Turning slightly red as she realised that was a question which could officially be classed as 'stupid', the girl stammered out an amendment. "More than the obvious, I mean…."

"Mmmmmm?" It took time, but Keitaro gradually seemed to remember he was still in the room and not alone. "Oh, sorry Shinobu. What was that?"

"Is there something wrong?" Shinobu repeated, now sure that there was but keen to find out exactly what.

"Ah, it's nothing." Sensing from the violet stare that his friend wasn't going to believe his rubbish lie, the Kanrinin shook his head. "Honestly, it's nothing that big. It's just something Tsuruko said to me earlier today, something that made me think." Looking down at Shinobu's now worried face, the man managed to squeeze out a smile. "Don't worry about it, Shinobu. It's nothing terrible, just thought provoking….."

"Urashima-san? Maehera-san?" The nurse called from the doorway, interrupting the conversation. "Konno-san is settled now, if you wish to see her?"

"Is she alright?" Shinobu asked anxiously, squinting slightly at the broad figure silhouetted against the brightness of the hallway outside.

"It's common for people to feel sick after something like this." The older woman replied, entering the room and favouring the nervous girl with a surprisingly gentle smile. "We've given her something for it, and to make her comfortable. She's awake at the moment, but don't be surprised if she doesn't stay that way for very long."

"Thank you…..?" Keitaro trailed off, realising he had no idea who he was talking to.

"Just call me Haruhi." The lady now known as Haruhi replied, still smiling.

"Well, thank you Haruhi-san." After bowing slightly, the Kanrinin accompanied the nurse back to the ward and his ill friend, Shinobu at his side.

The pair re-took their seats at the bedside, their movement rousing the fox from the light doze she had slipped into. For several moments the group merely looked at one another, suddenly bereft of anything to say.

It was Shinobu who broke the silence.

"Mitsune-san, I-I'm glad you're okay….." She quietly began, leaning forward to grasp one of the pale hands laying motionless on the bed. "Just promise me, please, promise me. Promise me you'll never scare me like that again……" The girl's voice broke as life caught up with her, her head drooping and eyes filling. Mitsune could only watch on with a depth of shame she had never experienced as her friend hiccuped quietly, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue magically conjured from one of her long blue sweater sleeves.

As Keitaro swept the girl into his arms with a confidence Mitsune didn't know he possessed, the grey fox felt her own throat tighten and her eyelids prickle. A few minutes ago she could have sworn it was impossible to feel any worse. It turned out she was wrong.

"Ah gawd, I'm sorry kiddo." She ground out, throat growing even tighter than before. "Didn't mean to worry y'all." In response Shinobu blew her nose, emitting a very-unladylike honking noise.

"You didn't do it on purpose." The younger girl dabbed gingerly at her eyes, now sniffling with a little more feminine grace.

"Don't make me any less sorry though." Mitsune muttered, exhaustion and shame beginning to take the high toll their presence demanded.

"Mitsune-chan..." The Kanrinin loosened his hold on Shinobu, looking on with concern as his bed-bound friend allowed her head to flop back despondently onto her pillow, tightly closed eyelids unable to retain the liquid they contained.

"Dammit, what a mess." She whispered huskily, not even bothering to brush away the moisture seeping down her face. "A bankrupt, homeless drunkard, stuck in a hospital bed. What a waste of space." The woman would have pounded the mattress in frustration, if it weren't for the fact it seemed pointless.

"Mitsune-chan, it'll be okay. Honestly." Keitaro pledged, earning a defeated sigh in reply.

"I wish, Kei-kun. I wish……" With that Mitsune slipped back into the comforting haze of unconsciousness, leaving the visiting pair to gaze at one another with matching expressions of concern.

It was late. Again.

Keitaro couldn't help but feel, as he lay on his back on his temporary bedding, that he'd seen far too much of late recently. First the whole saga with Naru, during which he'd seen more witching hours than an entire coven. Following that, the eviction and subsequent re-housing of his waylaid tenant, and his movement from comfortable futon to semi-comfortable sofa. Even in his brief stint sleeping in the living room, Keitaro had grown to understand how useful having an actual bedroom was. Not only did you not have to wait for everyone else to hit their respective sacks before you went about hitting your own, but if someone needed a glass of milk/sandwich/banana smoothie at random O'clock it generally didn't bother you too much.

When Kaolla Su was blending in the room next door, sleeping was an impossibility.

And then, last but not least, the craziness which was the last thirty-six hours. An early awakening via the index finger of his ex-promise girl, a long day persuading Motoko to bite the bullet concluded with a trip to the hot spring, and a lot to mull over even before Shinobu's panicked shrieking had rent the night air.

Any thoughts of catching up with missed winks were abandoned seconds later.

Visiting Mitsune had turned out to take much of the day – getting to the hospital through the thickening snow was a trial in itself, and later on in the day Seta had arrived with a small army of well-wishers (minus Naru who was still sleeping and Haruka who at that point didn't want to wish well – 'In case she thinks I've let her off the hook'). It was evening by the time the Hinata-sou crew had returned, by which point the Kanrinin was well and truly wasted. Thanks to some co-operation from Shinobu he had slunk off for a bath while the young chef set everyone available to work cleaning what used to be his room.

Keitaro had only anticipated a relatively brief soak before dinner, but the longer he spent in the increasingly tepid water the less desire he had to get out. Partially because he had a lot he wanted to think about, but also because the man knew he would be the metaphorical sitting duck if he'd joined the dinner table.

Tired didn't quite cut it any more. Exhausted only brushed the surface.

Keitaro was well known for being easy to see through, almost to the point of transparency. But the man instinctively knew that this evening he wasn't even capable of the tiniest, whitest of lies, or the feeblest of denials. Hence, he chose to steep in the water until his skin had a prune-esque consistency to rival that of a mummified corpse. Until the sounds of movement had all filtered away, until the late-departing Shinobu had quietly called to him that his food was in the fridge and that if he stayed out any longer he'd end up in hospital as well.

She was right, so he'd promptly slipped out of his tub and into his dressing gown.

Upon entering the hallway he almost walked straight into the violet-haired teen, who upon questioning had simply told him she was waiting to make sure he was okay.

It might have been tiredness rearing its head, but the simple display of kindness had touched Keitaro much more deeply than he thought possible. It had taken several minutes and a particularly warm hug, but by the time Shinobu had bade him goodnight with a few soft words and a friendly peck on the cheek the Kanrinin had recovered his scrambled wits enough to allow him to descend the staircase safely.

Hence his current position, lain on his back and studying the ceiling boards, all the while wishing devoutly that the exhaustion gripping his body and mind would relax it's hold enough for him to actually sleep. The shifting of cushions beneath his back didn't help matters, and it seemed that whatever position Keitaro tried to assume he would inevitably be sucked back into the depths of the sofa, slipping down the crevice that existed between the cushions and the backrest.

So far he had found fifty yen down there, but no sleep.

The man had even tried laying on his front, but when he realised he was pressing his face into the same cushions which had supported various posteriors for the last who-knows-how-many years, he had abandoned the idea with significant speed. After much tossing and turning the Kanrinin had given up on sleeping at any imminent moment, and settled down to study the empty darkness while he waited for his mind to settle.

Thanks to Tsuruko, it showed no signs of doing so. It had only been a few words that they had shared in the kitchen that morning, but they were food for significant thought. The elder Aoyama, after several rounds of evasive conversation had placed her hands on hips, and fixed him with a look he had no hope of avoiding. When she was sure of his attention, the swordsmistress had spoken words that could no longer be avoided or denied.

"You need to make your decision, even if it is not conclusive. To continue down this current path would only do harm to yourself and others, cause stagnation and indecision. Make your decision and allow life to move on."

Keitaro had allowed himself to really think for once, now that his time with Naru was less a malevolent shadow and more a painful memory. It had taken time, but things were becoming clearer and clearer. One moment in particular strayed repeatedly to the forefront of the Kanrinin's mind, one he had replayed a hundred times, on each occasion causing him to almost physically wince. He wasn't sure precisely why initially, but with each passing minute was just beginning to understand……

"Kei?" Although the feminine voice which entered his ears was barely above a whisper, Keitaro was so wrapped up in his own world that the presence of another came as quite a shock.

"Ah!" Barely maintaining his position on the sofa he squinted myopically through the darkness, trying to identify his nocturnal visitor. As it was, she did the job long before Keitaro's short-sighted eyes could.

"Ara, are you awake?"

"Uh, yeah." At his response the hazy figure slowly approached until long, mussy bed hair and wide mahogany eyes were identifiable through the darkness. Mutsumi stopped only inches away from the sofa, fingers working at the hem of her pyjamas.

"Kei…..couldn't sleep?" The girl asked in a faint monotone.

"Guess not. Why are you still up?" Keitaro replied, easing himself up into a sitting position.

"I-I can't sleep either." Mutsumi nervously stood in place for a moment, before continuing in the same meek tone. "I felt the desire for some fresh air, and was wondering if you would join me….."

For once in his life, Keitaro didn't even hesitate.

"Sure." Scooping up handfuls of linen in order to retain his warmth, Keitaro followed Mutsumi to the front door, clicking on the outside light as he passed. After a moment spent donning footwear the Okinawan stepped brazenly into the winter night, foregoing her coat and gloves. Joining the young lady in the shallow porch, the man used the soft glow emitted by the doorway lamp to examine his nocturnal visitor more thoroughly. Swathed only in plain blue cotton pyjamas with errant snowflakes already adorning its surface, the Okinawan could have quite rightly been described as beautiful if it weren't for her expression.

Which was a hundred years too old for the face wearing it.

Eyes harried and anxious, a mouth accustomed to smiling dragged downwards at each corner by irresistible gravity. Even the silken mahogany locks which were normally drawn into a sleek ponytail were allowed to hang wayward around her ears and neck. Keitaro felt the normal tidal movements of his chest halt for the briefest second, memories of a conversation in hot spring floating into his mind. It took some time for the Kanrinin to realise he was staring, at almost the same moment Mutsumi realised she was doing exactly the same thing right back at him. After a pair of faint blushes, the two returned to surveying the scene until their embarrassment passed.

Within moments of breaking eye contact Keitaro noticed his friend beginning to tremble in the frigid breeze, trembling shoulders beginning to grow damp beneath the swirling snowfall. Unthinkingly he cast some of his blanket around the Okinawan who wound tightly into them with the briefest of smiles, bringing herself closer to him in the process.

Silence began to take hold, one heavy with potential and laced with apprehension.

"Ara. It's been a long few days ne, Kei?" Mutsumi eventually voiced, contralto reflective.

"I feel like I could sleep for a week. At least until I actually try to that is." Came the reply as Keitaro stared at the lamp illuminating the wintry darkness with tired disinterest. "Wish I could. It's almost like my mind is running in a different time zone, and the rest of me is waiting for it to catch up."

"What are you thinking about?" Lulled by the Okinawan's soft tones, Keitaro sighed gently.

"Just stuff. Mitsune, Naru, Motoko….." The Kanrinin drifted off into silence, missing the look flashing across his partner's face. "So much going on, I'm not quite sure what I'm doing any more."

"I-I see." It took some time, but the desolation carried in such a simple statement eventually trickled into Keitaro's consciousness. Casting a glance at the girl beside him from the corner of his eye, the slow poison that was dread trickled into his blood as memory came to the forefront again.

The man had only ever seen that look on Mutsumi's face once. It was the day before, and it had appeared only seconds before the Kanrinin had his heart frozen in his chest. It was the sign of rain about to fall on what should be a sunny day.

Keitaro panicked.

"N-no! Honestly, I didn't mean that! Well, not only that, there's more, but I didn't want to say it….." The words came out in a jumbled rush, the speaker desperate to defer the inevitable.

Mutsumi was too far immersed in sorrow to care.

"What didn't you want to say, Kei?" The girl mumbled, morose brown eyes fixated on the blanket curled within her hands.

"I didn't want to say……" Keitaro halted, realising what he was about to say could tilt his entire world on its head. Mired in indecision, he glanced up at Mutsumi, hoping to convey his message without words.

Mutsumi, for her part, let her head bow further and her moist eyes close.

"I understand. You don't need to say any more, it's all perfectly clear." The girl took a ragged breath, teeth biting her lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. "Please, forgive me for disturbing your night. I'll go now….." Making to leave, Mutsumi didn't even remove herself from the embrace of Keitaro's blankets before the storm of bitter loneliness arrived. Cold as the February night she found herself stood beneath, its winds came too quickly and too ferociously for her to retreat to a private haven. Within moments it overcame her, weakening her knees and dropping her face to her hands, forcing water from eyes unable to restrain them.

For the second time Keitaro felt something within him shatter, as the sight which haunted him relentlessly was reprised in the spotlight of his horrified gaze.

Mutsumi's tears.

Unable to move or even blink, the man watched them fall as if in slow motion, the descent of each one driving yet another nail into his heart.

When he had first experienced the same sensation of exquisite horror, Keitaro had wondered why it struck him with a force capable of driving the breath from his chest and the heat from his body. His first thought was that it was because it was just so……wrong. So incongruous. That tears from eyes which always smiled somehow meant much more. Shock at seeing a beautiful face disfigured by sadness that didn't belong.

But then, over the last twenty-four hours, his thoughts had begun to change. Was it purely that crying was something Mutsumi shouldn't be doing, merely concern for a friend in need?

Or was it…..something more?

The truth wasn't an epiphany which suddenly arrived amidst a choral fanfare, or the clearing of trumpets. It had simply slipped into the corner of his mind unnoticed, taken root and waited. The moment Mutsumi was overcome, the moment a clawed hand seized his stomach and squeezed, was the moment Keitaro truly understood what he'd known for some time.

"Mutsumi….please stop……" The Kanrinin choked, throwing caution to the wind and his arms around the sobbing girl beside him.

"…..Kei?"

"I'm such a damn coward. A stupid, stupid coward." Keitaro rambled on, exhaustion and self-loathing burning the last of his pretences away. "Tsuruko was right, what good can hiding do? Why didn't I just open my eyes and see who was there in front of me? Who's been there the whole time? It's caused nothing but pain, all because I've been too damn afraid to come out and say something!"

"Kei, what are you saying?" Dark eyes wide and suddenly focussed, Mutsumi brushed her flushed cheeks dry before reaching up and extending the same courtesy to the man who held her within his grasp.

"I've been ignoring it all, hoping I'd never have to put myself on the line again…...And all it's done is made the one I care for suffer……" The man's flow of scattered thoughts slowed when a soft hand reached out to cup his face, the girl whom it belonged to staring at him with an expression of incarcerated hope.

"Please." Mutsumi almost pleaded, now trembling with something other than cold. "Please, tell me exactly what you mean."

"I-I mean……" Breaking off, Keitaro forced himself to take a deep breath and really look at the girl before him. At the round and gentle face, the glistening mahogany eyes which never held a hint of malice. As if sensing the moment the fingers cupping his face traced the line of his jaw, a sweet warm touch he could never remember experiencing before. Tender, loving, so different from that which had marred his face and his life over an eternal half-decade.

The words suddenly came with an honesty only spoken by the utterly weary.

"It hasn't been long since everything went wrong with Naru, not like things were ever right to begin with. Through it all we've always been friends, and you've been a better one than I deserved. I wish it hadn't taken me so long to see what has been in front of me the whole time...I really care for you Mutsumi, and I think that…..no, I know that...I want to be with you..."

The words, spoken hesitantly in a hoarse voice, rang like a chiming bell through the winter's night.

For several long seconds, not a move was made or a word spoken. Two figures gazed at one another, as if to blink would be to break the spell woven by a stuttering yet honest declaration of love.

Mutsumi was the first to crack, as her lips made the tiniest movement upwards.

"Ara...Kei, I know you don't want to say it out loud. Not after everything you've been through. But I can." Reaching up and tilting Keitaro's head forwards, the Okinawan eased up until her pouting lips touched those of her beloved. Revelling in the deep warmth of affection, the girl held the kiss for a far longer than she ever had as if in confirmation. After some time she pulled back ever so slightly, allowing her deep chocolate irises to meet those of the man she had just claimed as her own. "I love you. I have for what seems like forever. I don't need you to say anything to me now. If you can show me you feel the same, I can wait to hear it as long as it takes..."

For several seconds the only movement was that of white flakes carried on the Arctic breeze. Until Keitaro's face tilted downwards, closing the gap between the two figures to the point where lips met for the second time.

Pulling apart, Keitaro gazed down at the woman in his arms with an expression of genuine happiness. At that moment, nothing he had ever known seemed quite as beautiful as her. Honest face candid as an open book, dark eyes sparkling with a light that could not be attributed to the sparse illumination from a single bulb. Full lips elevated into an angelic smile, hands which seemed to make his skin glow through the merest contact. Idly he brushed a few wayward specks of white from her hair, revelling in the blissful sensation as his fingertips swept through silken locks.

Instinctively the pair drew one another close once again, both turning their heads to gaze out at the ebon framed scene before them. White clouds swirled beneath the lamplight, air currents twisting their passengers into a unique and unforgettable dance, cast upon the canopy of skeletal trees barely visible in the distance.

Eventually, Mutsumi turned her face back towards the one she loved, something approaching her normal blissful smile in place on her mouth.

"Kei, would you join me in my room tonight? I'm not asking for anything, it's just that it'll be a lot more comfortable than that tired old sofa in there..." For the briefest time it seemed the man was about to decline. Thankfully, Keitaro considered it for long enough to bypass his reflexes.

"O-Okay, Mutsumi." Meekly the man held a hand out to the girl before him, who grasped it with the certainty of one never intending to let go.

"Come on, Kei." Pulling the man inside, the doors closed behind them with a definite 'bang'. For a few moments longer the indefatigable dance of winter went on, visible beneath the solitary glow of a single bulb, whose role was now defunct.

After a single click the night was pitch once more, as the sound of ascending footsteps gradually faded to silence.

...Now I'm prepared for a beating...

Chapter 19 already in progress, if I haven't just lost half of my readers!

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.