Repercussions Chapter 23, a love hina fanfic

Long overdue, Chapter 23.

I imagine this is the penultimate chapter, so you don't have to put up with many more aimless author ramblings. This time I just want to give my thanks to all those that reviewed, and have followed this tale all the way to this point.

On with the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 23

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Motoko blinked in puzzlement, surprised by such a simple statement. Eventually she spoke, although not to do anything more than reflect the words she had heard.

"To be a mother?"

"Yes. It is quite simple, really." Tsuruko agreed, inclining her head.

"B-but I thought that it was something you would become by default?" Chuckling gently at Motoko's misunderstanding, the elder Aoyama tried to explain.

"Well, yes, in a technical sense. But there is much more to it than that, Imoutochan." Judging by her sister's frown, she still failed to understand.

"I fail to see how this drives you to threaten me with banishment." Motoko growled faintly, annoyed.

"Motoko-san….." Seeing the clouds gathering on the other girl's expression, Tsuruko sighed. "Look, it is far from remarkable to give birth to a child. But for me…..it is the time after my daughter is born that the work really starts. There is so much potential in every life, and as a parent I have the chance to nurture that potential. You clearly have no conception of how much time and effort that may take, Imoutosan."

"What, things like teaching her how to read and write?" Motoko softly snorted. "I believe that's what tutors are for, Oneesan……" The girl faded out as her sister's expression grew arctic.

"You amaze me, Imoutosan. To think you would see life in such simple terms, after claiming to live in 'the real world' as you put it." Tsuruko's voice gradually lost its chill, growing more reflective as her face turned to stare at the trees blurring past the window opposite. "I'm sure you know people are not created as if by recipe. You cannot simply put in an ounce of education, a teaspoon of manners and a pinch of experience and bake until fully raised."

"I understand that." Glancing at the distant look in her sister's eyes, Motoko frowned again. "But I still fail to see….."

"Do you have any idea how many responsibilities the head of the house has, Motoko-san?" Taking silence as a no, Tsuruko continued in the same faraway tone. "Enough to take up almost every waking moment one possesses. Taking a few days break alone is enough to ensure mountains of extra work upon my return. The way things are, I would barely be able to see my child between the endless meetings, training sessions and other duties that fall upon my plate. I want the chance to take care of my daughter, to really be her mother."

Something about the way she said the last sentence finally got through to Motoko.

"I am trying to understand, Oneesan. But I still cannot see why it means so much to you….."

"Perhaps you cannot. Perhaps you must yourself be on the precipice of parenthood, staring into the abyss itself, before understanding begins." Shaking her head gently, Tsuruko closed her eyes. "Maybe it is only I who feel this way, although from what our own mother has told me, I doubt it. The endless possibilities, and the fear….."

"Fear?" Echoed Motoko, puzzled. She had never heard her sister use the word with reference to herself, and in her heart of hearts the admission from someone seemingly impervious to such weak emotions caused a tingle to dance through her own nerve endings.

"Yes. A million and one questions I can't possibly answer. Will she be healthy? Will I raise her correctly? Will I be a good mother to her? Will she, after all is said and done, be proud to be my daughter?"

Watching Tsuruko open her olive eyes and stare blindly through the window the younger Aoyama silently wondered if her sister had changed or if the layer of vulnerability had always been there, carefully hidden from view. Knowing what Tsuruko needed to hear, she reached out an elegant hand and placed it on the pregnant woman's arm. "Oneesan, I can promise you your child will be proud of you. Of that I have no doubt." For her words she received a smile, small but genuine.

"Thank you Imoutochan. I am glad your faith in me exceeds my own."

"Perhaps you do not give yourself the credit you are due." Motoko retorted.

"Perhaps." Shifting slightly with a visible twinge of discomfort, the elder sister shrugged. "I have always striven for perfection, Motoko-chan. Be it in the way of the sword or as head of house, I have given it all I could. And, without being arrogant, I have often achieved what others could not. But this challenge that faces me now….it is the one I wish to conquer above all others, the one that matters more to me than any I have thus far come across. Yet it is the one that possesses the most complexity, the most unknowns. And how to judge what is correct? No manual exists, no scoring system which awards marks or provides proven guidelines. It is purely and simply trial and error……and I do not wish to err too far or too often. Not for myself, but for her……to allow her to reach her full potential, and be the best person she can be….." The pregnant woman broke off, emitting a harsh bark of humourless laughter. "Hah, look at me now. Tsuruko Aoyama, head of the Shinmei-Ryu, rambling on like an old maid who's lost her marbles……"

"……" Ignoring her sister's self depreciating comment, Motoko mulled over her words carefully. Eventually coming to a conclusion, she turned to her travelling partner and cleared her throat. "Oneesan, permission to speak honestly?"

"I do not believe you have ever needed me to grant it, but go ahead."

"Well….." Taking a deep breath and her resolve, the young student ploughed on. "I think you're complicating things too much."

"Oh?" Quirking her head into a tilt, the older sister regarded Motoko with interested eyes. "Pray tell how, Imoutochan?"

"I think you've got it the wrong way around, put the most important thing last. Excepting good health of course." Shaking her head, the girl decided to get to the point. "What I mean is…..if your daughter is proud to call you mother, surely it means you're acting in the correct manner. I – I've always looked up to you Oneesan, and tried to follow your example. I feel I have often been found wanting, something I attribute to my own shortcomings rather than impossible goals. But at the end of it all, I am and always will be proud to call you my Oneesan. You have my respect, my admiration, my love, purely by being the woman you are. I have not the tiniest doubt that your child, and any others that may follow, will feel the exact same way."

For a long few seconds, the silence was deafening.

Then a short laugh, this one genuine, tore through it.

"And here was I, making suggestions of naiveté." Brushing what may have been a tear from the corner of an eye, Tsuruko slipped an arm around her younger sister. "Motoko-san, I feel it is you who do not provide yourself with enough credit."

With a non-committal noise (but secretly delighted) Motoko went back to studying the surrounding countryside, which seemed to be slightly less of a blur than a few minutes before. Moments later something else crept into her head, something that drew a frown to her face. "Oneesan?"

"Yes?"

"One thing still puzzles me. Why the huge façade? The threats, the endless pushing for me to take up the mantle of school leader without simply telling me your real reasons?"

"Oh. Ah, yes." As she cleared her throat hesitantly, Tsuruko appeared almost embarrassed. "Well, part of it was to test your resolve, your desire. I will admit that I was caught in the moment on more than one occasion, and perhaps pushed harder and further than I had ever intended. But in truth…..I didn't want to admit to my own selfishness, my weakness."

"Oneesan…." Holding up a hand to stall her sister, Tsuruko shook her head slowly.

"No, it is the truth. I cast you as the guilty party, while concealing the fact that I merely wished to abandon my duties. For that I apologise, Imoutosan. But I apologise all the more for allowing pride to take control of my actions, and placing my own reputation above your happiness." She finished, making as formal a bow as one can manage whilst seated, all the while awaiting a furious response.

For some time Motoko stared into the middle distance, rolling the facts over in her head. Much to her surprise the anger within never reached boiling point, or even anywhere near lukewarm. In all honesty, she could understand her sister's actions – she'd have done exactly the same were the situations reversed, and it wasn't as if she hadn't stooped to deception herself in the past in an attempt to avoid her unwanted fate. Such as the time she had pretended to marry Keitaro…..pushing the memory firmly away, the girl realised Tsuruko was waiting for an answer.

"Oneesan, you have nothing to apologise for." She eventually murmured, favouring her sister with a smile. "My only wish would be a simple solution to this mess."

"There is." Tsuruko stated.

"Oh?" Motoko replied, eyebrows raised.

"Yes." The elder sister rested back, a gentle sigh escaping her mouth as it set in a firm line. "I hand my child to our mother, and get on with the responsibility entrusted to me." The grimace that passed across her face might have been due to a contraction, but then again it might not. "With a little luck I may see her each evening for a short while….."

"Oneesan, you can't mean that." Motoko gasped. "After all you've said….." In response Tsuruko shrugged, expression resigned.

"Sacrifices must be made in life."

The silence which followed was broken by an electronic voice announcing that the train was arriving at its destination, prompting a thoughtful Motoko to gather their bags together.

While the younger Aoyama still couldn't face the thought of taking over the Shinmei-ryu, the girl started to wonder how she could help her sister find a little of the freedom she so deeply desired.

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Naru carefully rested her back against the wall, and stared out into the blue sky shining through the window opposite with a little more optimism than before. It had been hard, but it seemed she'd made her peace with Keitaro and Mutsumi in the end. Apologising to someone who had taken Keitaro away for good had seemed impossible, but once she'd taken a deep breath and admitted (to herself) that she'd already pushed him away it became slightly easier.

Very slightly.

In truth, Naru would rather undergo water torture than have to go through that again, apologies being something her stiff-necked pride abhorred completely. Thankfully, Mutsumi had returned to being the good-natured and slightly offbeat Okinawan she had always been, and accepted it without hesitation. She had even managed to do so without a hint of smugness, something Naru deep down had to give her one-time-friend credit for – it would have been so easy for Mutsumi to rub her nose firmly in the mess she had made while gloating about her victory.

Keitaro had stood close beside his girlfriend for the entirety of Naru's slightly strangled and rambling apology, and hadn't said a word until Mutsumi had smiled in her typically blissful way. Even then the only indication the man gave was a small nod of his head and a hint of a grin. It was enough for the bespectacled girl to know she was forgiven, but deep down she knew that all was not forgotten.

It was also enough for her to realise Keitaro had changed beyond her realisation – the mouse in human clothing was long gone, leaving a man in its place. She'd waited for years for something like it to happen, and then it had without her even noticing.

Yet another reason why she just had to leave.

Growling quietly under her breath, Naru ruffled a hand through her honey locks. No point dwelling on it any longer, what was done was done. Now the girl was focussed on what she still had to do before she could leave in peace.

Silently the girl held two hands up in front of her face, eight digits extended.

Okay, so that's Keitaro and Mutsumi done. Naru said mentally, folding two of the fingers on her left hand. And Motoko said she needs nothing from me, so she's fine. The last finger on the left hand curled inwards, and the honey-haired girl turned her attention to the outstretched fingers (and thumb) on her right hand.

Right. Let's see…..Sara was practically delighted to have me back, and though she cares for Keitaro more than she'll ever admit, it's all old news to her. After all, she used to break more than enough pottery over 'the dork' herself. The thumb was folded into the palm. Su doesn't hold anything against anyone for long. And after she tried to cheer me up yesterday when she found me sat in here in the dark…...she good as forgave me then. Her index finger followed her thumb, folding down to leave three digits still upright. Mitsune, well, after the last time I visited it's safe to say we're okay. I forgot how much I miss the old fox…..

Mitsune's finger now flexed, Naru stared at the two remaining – her ring and little fingers. The ring finger represented Haruka, who had already chewed her out well and truly the morning she had returned. As a result the chain-smoking hostess would feel she had said her piece, and hopefully considered the case closed. Hopefully.

Which left the little finger.

Shinobu.

Naru swallowed audibly as a mental image of the violet haired home-maker swam into mind, one where once meek eyes flashed with steely determination.

Keitaro wasn't the only one who had changed, it seemed. And while Shinobu had also taken the chance to give her the bollocking of a lifetime (and a slap that nearly took her face off) when she'd returned, Naru doubted the younger girl considered it anything like equivalent exchange for what her 'sempai' had endured.

Staring at the single erect digit as it stood defiantly before her, Naru groaned throatily before letting her hand flop down to her side. If only everything in life could be simple…..

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Staring down at the contents of her lap, Mitsune tried her level best to stop a shudder passing through her. Feeling more self-conscious than a schoolgirl naked before an assembly, the fox belatedly wished that the curtains were drawn around her when she'd acceded to talk to the nice doctor with the nice tie and equally nice smile. It had quickly become apparent what he had come to talk about, and sensing that perhaps now was not the time he had left Mitsune with some 'useful information' and a promise to return.

Now it went without saying that there were few secrets on the ward – all of the women in her bay of six knew one-another well enough by this point as the evenings had to be passed doing something – and that something was gossip. In fact, after Keitaro had visited Mitsune had to spend several hours both denying that she was involved and advising two or three of her temporary room-mates that the man in question was off limits. It was true that all of those present had a fair idea of why everyone else was there, but at this moment the fox suddenly felt completely exposed. Furtively, she rifled through the leaflets gathered between her legs with an odd feeling of shame.

Alcohol and you…..Kicking the habit, the ten-step guide…..free anonymous helpline……

Shuddering again Mitsune gathered up the scattered literature, every single page incriminating as the rest, and shoved the collected paper into her bedside cabinet.

"Everything okay there, Mitsune-san?" The red-head in the bed opposite called, regarding her with mild interest. Typical of the girl, Mitsune thought. The half-German firebrand she knew as 'Asuka-san' was incapable of keeping her nose out of anything.

"Yeah, it's nothing." The fox replied dismissively, herself laying back to study the ceiling as an alternative to making contact with anyone.

Although she as trying her very best not to think about it, the parting words her doctor gave her echoed endlessly in the chambers of her mind.

'If you can't control things, you're going to have to give up for good. Before it's too late…..'

For good?

Yeah, she'd thrown all her bottles away. Emptied them out and discarded them when she'd realised just what she'd been doing to herself. But Mitsune had to admit that it was an impulsive act, ironically fuelled by the alcohol she already had in her system. Now all of a sudden, the possibility that she may never touch a drop of sake again had filtered into her consciousness.

To be truthful, Mitsune agreed that she should do it. That her worst habit had done her no good whatsoever, and quite a bit of harm in the end.

The problem was she really wanted a drink. Needed one, almost.

Heaven knew why. The girl was more than aware of the options, which essentially were stop and stay healthy or relapse and risk the same fate (if not worse). Logic told her the right thing to do, and she wholeheartedly approved of the idea. But if someone were to place a glass of warm, smooth sake before her right now……

Feeling her tongue growing dry, the girl rolled over and closed her eyes in the hope of sleeping off the cravings.

Fat chance.

It wasn't as if she was afraid of not having a drink now. Or tonight. Or even the next night. But for there to be no prospect on any night……it was something she simply couldn't fathom.

Yes, she'd had some awful times. Times when she'd woken up without knowing how she even made it to bed, sometimes waking up to find she hadn't even managed that. Playing the fool then feeling a fool the next day, attempting to drown her sorrows and nearly drowning herself. A full library-worth of scenes she wished she could re-enact or erase from history, the legacy of her Achilles heel. But all the same, between the embarrassments and idiocy, Mitsune could honestly say she enjoyed some of her evenings spent relaxing on her crutch while passing her time with Naru and company. In fact, she had a hard time remembering the last time she'd genuinely kicked back and relaxed without a glass to hand.

Mitsune had started to wonder if she still knew how to enjoy life without it.

It used to just be something to give life a little colour now and again, nothing more than a harmless bad habit. But somewhere along the way, it had started filling in the blanks the fox couldn't otherwise ignore. Empty days, lonely nights. Long, dark, lonely nights.

Suddenly, Mitsune really, really wanted a drink.

Scraping an arid tongue across the roof of her mouth, the girl lurched upright and grasped the glass of water sat waiting at her bedside, downing it without a pause for breath. The contents drained she set the glass down, slumping back into the uncomfortable sheets and draping an arm across her eyes, feeling like a vampire who'd been living on tomato juice for a month.

Really, never again?

Never?

It was one thing if the girl would be able to announce a limit and then adhere to it, but Mitsune knew she couldn't. She'd tried before, hell others had tried for her, yet she always found a way to hoodwink those supervising. One always, always led to one more. The only way that she could possibly stop her once she'd started was the complete absence of anything drinkable within reasonable walking distance.

……Although thinking about it, she'd discarded her entire collection of Sake the day she'd ended up in an ambulance. So it wasn't as if she had any available when she actually escaped from hospital.

In which case, something like that might just be possible…..

Casting a glance at the closed cabinet and remembering the assembly of leaflets contained within, Mitsune closed her eyes tightly and shuddered. It was far from perfect, but having someone control the availability and supply was definitely preferable to the prospect of lifelong abstinence.

The fox just didn't feel strong enough to consider the prospect yet.

So, she would need to front up and admit it all to someone, the truth of the situation and what she needed done. Of course, there was only one person Mitsune could consider asking. It was time to swap crutches, and instead of relying on a bottle to support her she would be placing her weight on a certain three-time ex-ronin. Again.

In truth, Mitsune suspected Keitaro wouldn't want it any other way.

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"So, this is it?" Keitaro asked speculatively, eyeing the simple cabinet being firmly screwed onto the wall.

"Yep!" Su chirped, placing her sonic screwdriver between her teeth and fishing another screw from one of her numerous pockets.

"It looks pretty…..ordinary." And it did. There was little to discern the three-foot by three-foot box being mounted to the wall from a medicine cabinet. A medicine cabinet for the hypochondriac perhaps, but a medicine cabinet all the same. The only feature that warned any onlooker that this was not another off-the-peg cabinet was the Three-eyed Molmolian brand adorning each corner of its mirror-glass front.

"Everyone says the best method of attack is surprise." The sprightly girl replied, slotting the screw into its bracket. "Well, I happen to know for a fact the best method of attack is high explosives, but the rest of the world's slow catchin' up." Watching Su press her screwdriver against the screw head and press a button, Keitaro suppressed a shudder.

"Su-chan, you haven't….."

"Nah." Stepping back and surveying her work, Su slotted the screwdriver into another pocket and grinned. "Well, not high explosives anyways."

"Okay….." Taking a half-step towards the door and brushing a fleck of sweat from his brow, Keitaro started to wonder if having the 'Sake Safe' as he'd mentally christened it in his old room was a good idea.

"I'm wonderin' Kei-kun, why d'ya need this?" Her sea-green eyes curious, Su turned them on her Kanrinin. "Whatcha want ta lock up?"

"Uh…..It's sort of a secret." Keitaro murmured uneasily.

"Oh. Okay!" Seemingly satisfied, Su sprang onto the man's shoulders and craned over to look at him eye-to-eye, only upside-down. "Say, why'd ya want it here anyways? Ya spend mosta your time in Turtle-lady's room now."

"Well, it had to go somewhere. As Mitsune's going back to her old room and I still use this place sometimes, why not?" Taking his life in his hands, Keitaro approached the cabinet and inspected it curiously. "So, it's fingerprint access, right?"

"Yep! Just press yer index finger on a Molmol symbol an' hey presto! It opens!" Following instructions the bespectacled man smiled as the door swung open with barely a click.

"Who's got access?"

"You, Haruka an' me." Sensing the glance Keitaro sent her way, Su chuckled. "Ya think I'd make a safe I couldn't get into? Ya reckon anyone could?" The man chuckled himself, shaking his head gently.

"Just promise me not to open it unless I say so."

"Okie dokey." Flipping herself off the Kanrinin's shoulders, Su grinned broadly at him. "Now, I've set up an auto-close timer for twenty seconds……" She paused, and the door swung of its own accord and shut with an audible click. "…..so make sure nothin' is stoppin' it from closin'. I won't tell ya what'll happen if it's being jammed open, don't want to spoil the surprise. But trust me; surprise is the right word for it."

Keitaro decided he could live without that kind of surprise.

"Ara, it's in?" Mutsumi poked her brown-tressed head through the door, giving the people within a smile.

"Yeah."

"Good. I hoped it would be before Mitsune came home." As if latently noticing Su's presence, the Okinawan placed a palm to her mouth. "Oh, perhaps I shouldn't have said that……"

"No bother, I know the score." Su chortled. "I keeps secrets with the best of 'em. Betcha didn't know I'm the living repository for Molmol's classified military technologies!"

"You are?"

"Yeah." Scratching her chin, the tan girl adopted a thoughtful pose. "Come to think of it, wasn't that meant to be classified?"

"Su-chan….." At Keitaro's groan, Su gave him a particularly cheesy grin.

"Anyway, I've been asked to bring you downstairs. We're expecting Mitsune home any minute." Apparently from nowhere Mutsumi donned a garishly colourful party hat, and tossed two more at the others. "I think she's due a welcome home party, ne?"

"Let's just hope it goes better than the last few parties have." Her boyfriend replied dryly, placing the neon pink headwear on his head and pulling the elastic under his chin.

"Sure it will!" Su cheered, discarding the cheap cardboard she'd been given and withdrawing from stuff space something that could only be loosely called a hat. It involved a gravity-defying combination of neon lights, sparklers and the slogan 'Welcome Back Kitsune' awash with glitter adorning its front.

"One you made earlier?" Mutsumi asked, chuckling behind her hand.

"You knows it!" Springing back onto Keitaro's shoulders, Su flourished a dramatic finger at the doorway. "Onwards! To victory!"

"Whatever you say, Su-chan." Walking out of the room Keitaro gave a smile to the waiting Mutsumi, who returned it. "So, ready for another night of madness?"

"Ara, I'm sure it won't be so bad." Falling into step with her boyfriend, the Okinawan glanced at him out of the corner of her mahogany eyes. "Besides, awful as the last few parties were, it all turned out well in the end……"

The warmth of another hand taking her own in a firm grasp was all the answer she needed.

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It was almost as if she hadn't been away.

The party was in full swing, and so was Su (from the ceiling). Her Super-sonic Mk.5 had made another appearance and was proceeding to do its job really quite efficiently and showed no signs of causing widespread damage or mass panic, something quite unique among the girl's inventions. There was some good-natured banter going on between Seta, his protégé and his adoptive daughter, although the glint in Sara's eye suggested that it wasn't all entirely good natured. Mutsumi had stationed herself beside a bowl of peanuts and chatted to Shinobu, occasionally throwing a nut over her shoulder for the sugar-hyped Su to catch.

All the same, there was the occasional hint that something had changed. For one, the place where Motoko would normally be sat expressing her mild disdain at such unruly behaviour was empty (for good reason, she understood). For two, Naru sat like a stranger, peering like Ebeneezer Scrooge through an invisible window at the happy gathering within. Three….. taking a sip of her drink, Mitsune sighed. Orange juice never tasted so good without champagne mixed in.

Well, what will be will be.

"Mitsune-san?" Disturbed from her musings the fox looked up into Haruka's calm face.

"Yes?"

"Your apron." The older woman stated shortly depositing a neatly folded garment on the table before her. "I expect you at work bright and early tomorrow." Meeting the firm stare head-on, Mitsune nodded.

"Gotcha, Haruka-san." Bright and early? She could manage early, but there was no way in the seven hells she would be bright at seven in the morning. Unfolding the apron the girl let her grey eyes examine it, coming to the conclusion that it was something she would normally not be seen dead in. Well, there was nothing for it. She owed the Urashima family, and owed them a huge amount. Better to start working at the debt sooner rather than later.

"Ara, it suits you Kitsune-chan." Mutsumi commented, sliding into the chair beside her.

"Ya reckon?" Turning the garment around, the fox cracked a tiny smile as she saw her name etched out in silver thread in one corner. "Well, given how long I'm gonna be wearin' it for, it'd better."

"Okay Kitsune-chan?" Keitaro wandered over, placing a hand on Mutsumi's shoulder and catching sight of what the girl was holding. "I look forward to seeing you wear that, I reckon it'll look good on you." The man unwittingly echoed, causing a hint of rose to blossom on the fox's face.

"Thanks guys. I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Leaning down, the Kanrinin placed a peck on his girlfriend's cheek before straightening. Out of the corner of her eye Mitsune saw Naru push her drink away and vanish into the kitchen, and she stifled a sigh. "I'm going to go ask Haruka-san something, see you in a few." Keitaro finished, before doing exactly that.

"Y'know, I was so focussed on Shinobu an' Motoko, I never really saw ya comin'." Mitsune commented lazily to the suddenly attentive Okinawan beside her.

"Hmmmm? What do you mean, Kitsune-chan?"

"Well, I reckoned when the whole thing blew apart, it'd be one ah them ta muscle in. Never thought it'd be ya, not 'til I saw you two together when we had that celebration for Su."

"You saw that?" Mutsumi asked, dark eyes surprised.

"Yeah, sure did. Made me jealous as hell. Damn, I reckon ah've still got a touch ah the green eyes now." Seeing the mahogany gaze grow troubled, Mitsune waved a hand in the air. "Nah, don't worry Mutsumi-chan. The guy's yours, not even a herd ah wild horses gonna pull him away from ya."

For a few long seconds the pair looked at one another in silence, before Mutsumi gave a musical laugh. "I'll take that as your blessing, okay?"

"Fine, if that's what ya want." Mitsune grinned. "But I'll warn ya, do anythin' to push the guy away an' we'll be on him like a pack ah wolves on a defenceless lamb." The smile broadened, a hint of the mischievous fox making a long-overdue return.

"Ara, I don't plan on it." With that the conversation drifted onto everyday topics, what the weather was doing at the moment, how Motoko was doing, if she was going to be an aunt by morning. To Mitsune's eternal relief she was not constantly surrounded by concerned well-wishers or treated like a china doll, in fact when it came to her turn on the dance floor with the ever-enthusiastic Kaolla she was treated more like a rubber ball than a china doll. At some point Naru had left the kitchen and disappeared up into her room with barely a word, but a flushed Shinobu had simply passed on the message that the student had a headache.

She could sense Seta and Sara were trying to fill the hole she left - the latter of whom smoked up a storm with his wife, the former alternating between teasing Keitaro and dancing with the Molmolian whirlwind – but all the same the girl felt Naru's absence keenly until the party was spiced up by the appearance of Mutsumi and Keitaro on the dancefloor. Although Keitaro spent the entire time trying to avoid crushing his partner's toes, the unbridled enthusiasm the pair displayed drew smiles from those watching. Inevitably the sight of his protégé's clumsy efforts spurred Seta into action, and the tall archaeologist swept Haruka onto the floor before demonstrating that dancing skill was one thing Keitaro had failed to inherit from his mentor.

Watching her adoptive family making fools of themselves with every sign of enjoyment, Mitsune felt a smile pinch at her lips as she drank the last of her juice and discarded the empty glass. Sure, tomorrow might be another day, but tonight……tonight she could probably go without.

"Much as I wish it wasn't true, they make a good couple." Shinobu said from over her left shoulder, and Mitsune needed no explanation as to who she was talking about.

"Yeah……"

"Ah, to hell with it. Want to dance?" The fox glanced at the proffered hand before looking up at Shinobu, grin growing broad.

"Sure. Why not?" Allowing the violet-haired girl to draw her into an odd hybrid of a waltz and the chicken dance, Mitsune let reality take a back seat as she span from partner to partner, even sharing a fast foxtrot with Haruka who was trying (and failing) to give the impression it was all a bit of a chore.

When the party was finally over and Mitsune lay in bed that night, drinking in the familiarity of her old room, the fox's only wish was that Naru had been there with her instead of hiding like a fugitive in her own home.

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She should have known it wouldn't have been so easy.

Naru sat hunched on her bed, chin firmly cupped in her hands, knees drawn up to her chest defensively.

Shinobu…..

The young girl had been the last barrier to Naru being a free woman so to speak. The only one who still seemed to harbour a grudge – the only one who was yet to forgive. All the Tokyo-U student had managed to draw out of her younger housemate was a grudging acceptance that they had to share the same space and breathe the same air. It seemed the only reason that Shinobu tolerated her presence at all was because her 'Sempai' would not appreciate any further violence. But surely, a grudge was simply that, something that could be dispelled with the correct words. Right?

Wrong.

In retrospect, perhaps trying to pin Shinobu down in the middle of a party was far from a good idea. After all, it was during a party only weeks before that the world turned over and threw the comfortable little existence of the Hinata-sou into chaos. But she'd had enough of seeing everyone else apparently enjoying themselves, and the sight of the violet-haired chef disappearing into the kitchen appeared to give her a bona-fide escape route. Two birds with one stone, it seemed.

And in truth, when Shinobu looked up and saw her entering the kitchen she hadn't detected a hint of malice…..

"Naru-san." The girl stated formally, straightening from the crouch she had assumed to remove some plates from a low cupboard.

"Shinobu-san." Naru had replied, deciding that 'chan' would be pushing things.

"Yes?" Sensing that procrastination would do her no good at all, the honey-haired girl took her courage in both hands.

"I just wanted to say…..I'm sorry. Again. About Keitaro and all that, I honestly didn't know….." She had trailed off, searching for any sign that Shinobu was considering her words.

Nothing.

"And, well, I know that you really resent me for it. But, I think we have to move on now, otherwise we never will….."

In retrospect, Naru mused, she should have stopped right there when it was clear something was wrong. By that moment everything about Shinobu, from her posture to the way her hand was grasping a plate so tightly it was in danger of cracking……like the red markings on a poisonous snake, or the black-and-yellow stripes on a wasps' body, every inch of the girls body and posture read 'leave me alone' in massive letters.

Unfortunately, Naru was utterly blind.

"So, I was wondering……would you forgive me? Please?" She had finished, favouring at Shinobu's tense back with a hopeful smile. The moments which followed were dangerously silent until the younger girl emitted what could only be called a derisive snortl.

"So that's it? You think that you can stroll in here, make your plea and suddenly all is forgotten?" Still stood with her back to Naru, Shinobu barked a short laugh. "Sorry Naru-san, but the answer is no."

She had honestly not expected that answer. In fact, Naru hadn't even considered that absolution wouldn't be forthcoming. Needless to say, the shock of having her attempt rebuffed so firmly had caused one of Naru's worst qualities to rear its ugly head.

"Why not? What's the point in being like that?" She'd seethed, ire alight. "It won't do either of us any good."

"Sorry Naru-san. I can't forgive you right now, simple as that." Came the cool response, in stark contrast to the tense shoulders.

"Oh come on, you're just being childish."

Oh how she wished she hadn't said those words now. Shinobu had rounded on her like a striking rattlesnake.

"What's childish is stamping your feet and complaining when you don't get your way, Naru-bozu. I said no and I mean no, and acting like this isn't going to change my mind."

"It's just stupid to hold a grudge….."

"Shut. Up." The blood-chilling tone coming from Shinobu's lips stunned Naru into complying, the girl feeling a shudder pass down her spine as a truly fearsome violet glare fixed upon her. "Now listen Naru-bozu, and listen good. You don't know why I won't let you off the hook, and I don't trust you enough any more to tell you why. But listen when I say you are a long, long way from being a friend of mine."

"But – "

"No. I can't forgive you, not yet. So what I want you to do is turn around and walk out of the kitchen, and come back in about six months time. Then maybe we can have a civilised conversation."

It was clear already that the conversation was over, but being who she was Naru just couldn't let the bone go yet.

"If you could only give me a chance to prove myself….." The honey-eyed girl had looked on in puzzlement as Shinobu had exhaled deeply, anger seemingly giving way to sadness.

"Don't you get it Naru-san? It's not that I won't forgive you, I really do wish I could. I just can't. Everything is a bit too fresh, a bit too painful for me to just forget. So please, just leave me alone until I'm ready."

The way she'd said it left no room for argument. Naru had left the room at something just short of a run, and only stopped when in the sanctuary of her temporary room. Hence the girl was staring at the winter moon through the glass panes of her window, knowing beyond any doubt that any hope she had of the Hinata-sou remaining a home from home had drifted through the cracks in the wood and dispersed in the frigid night air. Maybe, just maybe somewhere down the line she might be able to return with her head held high, but now she had to leave.

Leave soon. And for good.

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Motoko eyed the closed door before her with trepidation, fighting the urge to pace. The battle lasted all of fifteen milliseconds, and before she knew it she was treading an already well-trodden path back and forth along the passageway outside her sister's room.

She couldn't ever remember feeling so nervous. The fact it wasn't herself she was nervous for didn't help.

"Motoko-chan, you're wearing out the floor. Come, sit down." The voice of her mother barely registered, but the raven-haired girl found herself sitting without hesitation. "There, now just relax. It will all be fine, Tsuruko is a strong woman and there have been no complications thus far."

"……." Motoko couldn't deny her mother was right. From the moment Tsuruko mysteriously vanished to the lavatory (for obvious reasons, in hindsight) to the present, everything had progressed smoothly as the train they had travelled in. For the first few hours, aside from the occasional wince or hitch in her sister's breathing Motoko would never have believed the moment had arrived. Now, it still seemed that events were progressing right on schedule.

That didn't make some of the noises which were coming out of the room any easier to tolerate.

The young Tokyo-U aspirant had always considered herself to be a stoic individual, someone not easily unnerved. But in truth, the sound of someone she admired and possibly even idolised screaming in agony chilled the girl in a way the harshest frost could not. As another wave of sound seeped through the thin walls and found its unwelcome way into Motoko's ears, the young woman found herself back on her feet and pacing back and forth once again without any conscious thought involved.

"Looks like we're getting close." At the calm statement Motoko rounded on her mother, mouth ajar.

"How can you be so calm, Okasan? Do you not worry about what may be taking place behind that door as we speak?" The older woman simply smiled at her daughter, olive eyes placating.

"I have been in Tsuruko's position twice myself, Motoko-chan. To know what she is going through does not ease the displeasure of hearing it, but experience does remove fear of the unknown. So….." Patting the chair beside her, the woman gestured for Motoko to sit down. "…..Your beloved older sister has informed me of your decision to renounce your claim to the school." Seeing the girl freeze at the statement, the older woman shook her head. "Now, I am not here to admonish you. So long as somebody carries the mantle forwards, it is not of significant concern to me which one of you does. I always believed you to desire the position at some point, what happened to change your mind?" Seeing nothing but curiosity on her mother's face, Motoko decided to be honest.

"Many things. I did not wish to leave my good friends, we rely upon one another as a true family. Also, I have grown to love my studies and the world of academia. Giving up the sword seems truly fitting given the grievances I have caused with it in the past, and I have found a new path to follow."

"I see. Well, it is your decision, and I am pleased to see you have arrived at it with due consideration."

"Thank you, Okasan." Motoko answered, breathing a silent sigh of relief that she didn't have to mention the one thing (or in this case, person) underpinning all of the reasons behind her change in perspective.

"So, Tsuruko is to remain the school's head……" The elder Aoyama mused quietly, eyes distant.

"Yes." Suddenly remembering her self-appointed mission, Motoko turned her attention on her mother. "Okasan, why is it that Tsuruko receives no help with her duties? Surely there are enough people in the school to allow some division of her workload." At the question, the older lady rolled her eyes in a display of exasperation.

"Because she's too proud to ask for help." Seeing her daughter's disbelief, the woman shrugged. "Motoko-chan, you know your sister is an incredibly passionate woman, and she refuses to accept anything but the best. The unfortunate result is that she only delegates to those she trusts to do a job well as herself, and you can imagine how short that list is."

Motoko guessed the number of people on the list totalled one.

"But I have to find some way of helping her….." The raven-haired girl broke off with a grimace as a particularly loud and lengthy bellow rattled through the house. "…..I cannot allow her to sacrifice so much purely for myself. Even if it takes threats, coercion or blackmail, I will not let it happen." She finished firmly, face set in determination.

"I agree, my dear. It is about time your sister understood that no one person is an island. Although I imagine that what is happening now might soften her resolve." Her mother said knowingly as another scream ripped through the cold night air. Motoko found her fingers reaching for her ears, but a second sound stopped them in their tracks.

An infant's cry.

Stood in preparation for another bout of pacing, the raven-haired girl felt her legs sagging beneath her weight and she sat down heavily, suddenly short of breath. An overwhelming something settled in her chest, a weight different from the albatross she had been burdened with in the past. Despite its size the mass didn't seem to drag her down, in fact it almost seemed to be composed of hydrogen, making her feel so light it was as if her toes would barely brush the ground should she walk upon them. Olive eyes wide and suddenly tearful, Motoko turned them on her mother and gave her a watery smile.

"Congratulations, Obasan." Smiling wryly, the older woman laughed.

"That makes two of us, Obasan."

For the second time in as many moments, Motoko was deeply glad she was sitting down. "Obasan……" She repeated to herself, as if tasting the word and finding it delectable. The pair made eye contact, and almost instantly found themselves in a joyous embrace, one punctuated by peals of laughter.

The Aoyama family now had another member. And in that house, for a short while at least, all was well with the world.

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Well, one to come. After that, who knows?

I certainly don't!

'Til next time,

Nodoka Miyazawa.