It was around ten o'clock by the time Keitaro trudged up the steps to Hinata House, somehow feeling warmer. As he crested the stairs, he saw that the lights were on. Good. If they were still up, then they could get the logistics of his departure over without much fuss. He just hoped they'd let him stay the night before he packed up and left for good.

"There you are!" Kitsune stepped outside through the front door with her hands on her hips. "Just where have you been?"

Keitaro gave her dumb stare, feeling like a teenager caught coming home past curfew.

Kitsune clucked her tongue. "Never mind," she said, seizing his arm. "We've been worried sick about you."

Why was that, he wondered. Was she worried that her meal ticket might have gone?

"Keitaro!"

The cry rent the hallway as soon as he stepped into its warmth. Keitaro yelped as Su leapt from nowhere onto his shoulders. Shinobu ran from the kitchen, looking like she wanted to hug him. Her eyes, that same anguished shade of blue, made his innards twist.

"Keitaro is all cold!" Su exclaimed leaping off his shoulders.

Shinobu's face contorted in alarm as she ran to the kitchen to make tea.

"Here, Urashima." Motoko stood in the living room doorway with her usual implacable expression and a blanket in hand. The act of charity seemed so out of place that he nearly fell over; but, recognising its rarity, he accepted the blanket with a nod and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Where's Naru?"

Kitsune shrugged. "She's still out looking. We called everyone we could think of when we realised you were gone, and then she ran off to search for you."

"It was irresponsible for you to leave without telling anyone, Urashima." Motoko's tone was one of chiding, rather than anger: another first for her. Could it be he'd misjudged?

"You were worried about me?"

Kitsune bopped him over the head. "Of course, you big lug. Do you have any idea how long it took to talk Shinobu out of calling the police? Where were you?"

Police? Keitaro felt sick as he bowed his head to hide his guilty flush. He had betrayed Shinobu twice, first for her mother and second for making her worry.

Then the front door swung open and Naru trudged in, shivering from the cold. She removed her coat without saying a word. As she went to hand it up, she turned and froze as her eyes alighted on Keitaro. She dropped the coat and stood staring.

Keitaro swallowed. "Hello."

"I'll give you 'hello'," Naru snarled, lunging for him. She punched him in the chest, again and again; but these weren't the usual Naru punches, just simple angry jabs. "You. Complete. Asshole! Do you have any idea how sick I've been? When I didn't find you at Tokyo U, I thought…I thought." Her shoulders sagged, like those light little hits took the last energy she had. "Asshole."

Keitaro stared at her. She had been worried; worried enough to go looking for him, enough to travel all the way to Tokyo U for him. "I…I'm sorry."

"Look, why don't we sit down?" Kitsune suggested and ushered people into the dining room. "Shinobu," she called, "is it ready yet?"

"Yes." Shinobu appeared with a tea tray and laid it on the table. A second later she came back with a plate of food and laid it before Keitaro.

Keitaro looked down at the simple dish of chicken and vegetables. "You saved dinner for me?"

"Of course," she replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Keitaro looked at each one of his tenants. For the first time since his arrival, every single one of them was looking at him, not in scorn or derision, but concern. He swallowed a lump in his throat and prayed to keep from crying. His hand shook before the chopsticks. He didn't deserve Shinobu's food, or her worried eyes, or her kind smiles. If the world were just, her expression would have made Motoko blanch as she ran him out of Hinata on a rail.

"Please eat." Shinobu said with those damned imploring eyes of hers. Keitaro fought for resolve. There would be time for self-flagellation later. If he didn't eat, they'd only get suspicious or, worse, even more worried.

"So why'd you run off?" Kitsune asked as he picked up the chopsticks. "Because of this?" She held up his test sheet.

Keitaro jumped. It seemed that the world was just after all. Punishment was on its way. "Where did you get that?"

Kitsune snorted. "Oh, don't act like it's the first time I've picked your pocket. You thought we were going to kick you out over this?"

Keitaro looked at each of the girls. "Well, yeah. That's what we agreed."

Kitsune also turned to each girl in turn and nodded. Then she held up the sheet and tore it in two. "Merry Christmas," she told him. "Now eat up. Hey now, don't cry."

Keitaro swiped at his eyes. Why, after all those months of hating him for his innocent mistakes, were they being so nice to him now that he'd committed his first willing betrayal? They ought to take turns launching him into oblivion until there was nothing left to launch. He ought to tell them, so they could get started; but as he ate Shinobu's good simple food under eyes all radiating sympathy for the first time since first seeing him, he found he couldn't expose himself. The truth would only mean despair for them and death for him. Besides, was it really so criminal? He had gone to bed with a beautiful woman who had wanted him as much as he had wanted her. The fact that she was the mother of one of his tenants hadn't even entered into it. Besides, it was one time. If he never saw her again, then that would put an end to the whole thing.

So resolved he ate his dinner and went upstairs to his private tub. Downstairs, Kitsune was rallying the others for the Christmas party. It would be Keitaro's first ever. He fished out the scrap of paper with Ritsuko's number and address and dropped in the waste bin. There was the end of it. He pulled off his shirt. If he just stayed on the straight and narrow, life at Hinata would get better. He dropped the shirt in the laundry basket and looked in the mirror. He flinched as he saw the angry red hickey on his shoulder. That's right, Ritsuko had bitten him there. His hand came up to cover it. He'd just have to put it from his mind. Easily said, but as his fingers traced the bruise and he felt himself grow hard at the memory, his eyes travelled to the waste bin. It was already too late.

They met again the day after New Years, then the weekend after that, and the one after that. It was easy enough to fabricate an excuse.

"I'll see you later Naru," he said as they disembarked from the train home from cram school. "Tell Shinobu to save a plate for me."

"Art club?" she asked.

He nodded. As far as everyone at Hinata was concerned, he had joined an art circle that met once at the end of the week to draw together. All that the lie required of him in corroboration was a little extra work in his sketchbook.

Naru bit her lip. Then she spotted a vending machine. "Got time for a coffee?"

Keitaro checked his watch. Ritsuko wouldn't expect him for a little while. "Sure."

"You've been drawing a lot lately." Naru said, fixed him with a critical look as she handed him a can of green tea. "Aren't you worried it'll affect your grades?"

Keitaro shrugged. He had anticipated that question. "Has it? Personally, I think it relaxes me."

Naru thought for a moment. "I won't deny you're not as wrong as often."

It was true; his grades did seem to be improving. She wasn't sure if he was good enough for Tokyo U, but improvement was improvement. Not only his grades, but he seemed less accident prone, and he'd finally stopped goggling at her every time she bent over. When was the last time she'd had to his him anyway?

She yawned. "Yikes. Maybe I should consider a hobby too."

At this Keitaro's mind conjured up the image of Naru naked on a rug, writhing beneath another man. He suppressed a forbidden shudder.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, groping for a change of subject.

"Shoot."

"Is Motoko all right? She seems to be…" He searched for the right word, but came up empty.

Naru considered the question. Without all the usual incidences of perversion, Motoko seemed almost depressed by their absence, as if bereft of some private ritual. On the positive side, it seemed that scales had fallen from her eyes. She remained ever watchful of the manager she had accepted with reluctance, less in suspicion now than curiosity.

"You mean how she watches you?"

Keitaro nodded.

Naru pursed her lips as she composed her answer. "Well, you haven't pulled Shinobu's skirt down in a while."

"Gee, thanks. Ouch!"

"That was a compliment, lug head. Anyway, I think Motoko hasn't been around boys much, so maybe now that you've stopped screwing up as much-"

"You're sure these are compliments? Ow!"

"Shut up! I'm saying maybe it's an opportunity for her to…I don't know, observe you in your natural state."

Keitaro laughed. "You make me sound like a wildebeest at the zoo."

Naru smirked. "Name one part of life at Hinata House that isn't like living in a zoo."

"Touché." Keitaro swallowed the last of his tea and looked at his watch. "I'd better go." He jogged towards the station exit, but turned after few strides. "Hey, let me know what you decide."

"About what?" Naru asked.

"Your hobby. You study more than anyone I know. If anyone deserves a little fun, it's you."

With that he was off only to trip over a stack of newspapers. Naru giggled to herself as he made profuse apology to the irate news agent and began gathering up the scattered papers. He might have become better behaved, but for him to cease being clumsy altogether was too much even for her to bear. He might have been cuter when she didn't have to worry about him being a pervert, but Keitaro without accidents wouldn't be Keitaro; and what fun would that be?

Keitaro knocked on Ritsuko's door. How would things go this time? No two meetings had been alike. Sometimes they had dinner before, others just coffee. Most of the time she met him at the door in her work clothes, but last time she'd been wearing that nightgown from Christmas. He never knew what to expect. That was part of the fun. Certainly, they'd both gotten more comfortable. The day after New Years, they'd had dinner and then she'd looked like she wanted to end things there. So he offered to help her wash the dishes, and that little extra time was enough to soothe her nerves. Now she smiled when he showed up on her door rather than the guilty looks of nights gone by. Even if he still felt a little guilty. Was it right to do this behind everyone's backs? What about his promise girl, had he betrayed her? Granted, she wasn't married and he had no girlfriend to cheat on, but…

As he wondered this Ritsuko opened the door, and as usual all thoughts of moral quandaries ceased. She was wearing a black bathrobe cinched tight to accentuate her curves. She tossed her brushed out hair over her shoulders and grinned.

"Where have you been?" she asked, stepping aside. "I've been thinking about you all day."

She didn't wait for an explanation, but kissed him hard as she kicked the door shut. Keitaro's hands came up to caress her back as his tongue duelled with hers. Then he kissed his way down, over her chin and her ear down to her neck. Ritsuko moaned and arched to give him better access.

"Bedroom," she said, already reaching for his belt.

Keitaro would have nodded were he not busy sucking on her collar bone. He didn't know where all this enthusiasm had come from, but he really liked it. They danced together towards her bedroom as he kept up his attack on her slender throat and she fiddled with the button of his jeans. Keitaro kicked the jeans away when they fell, and groaned into Ritsuko's mouth when her hand snaked under the waistband of his shorts to fondle his growing cock. She jerked him off slowly as they stumbled through the open door to her bedroom. His hands came round to cup her breast and he realised she wasn't wearing a bra. Following his suspicion, he trailed his hand down the lower opening of her robe and thrust it inside to find nothing but her warm, slick, bare pussy. He brushed her clit with his thumb and she squeaked. She withdrew and pushed against his shoulders until he was sitting on the bed. She brought his hand up to the sash. The robe parted when he untied it, and she stood smiling, hands on hips.

"You like?"

Keitaro swallowed and nodded. He reached up to touch her stomach, but she stopped him

"Not yet." When he looked at her in confusion a shy smile crossed her face. "There's something I want to try."

"What?"

In answer, she pulled down his shorts, nudged his legs apart, and came to her knees. Her passion darkened eyes fixed upon his red throbbing cock as she licked her lips.

"I never did this with my husband. I don't know how well I'll do."

Lying with her afterwards was almost as good as the sex itself. Once she was taken away from the cares of her world, the pinched, worried expression would fall away; and she became someone else: more open, more curious, more playful.

"What is it with men and boobs, anyway?" she asked, snuggling into his chest.

"Well," Keitaro began, very much aware of a certain pair pressed against his side. "They're soft and inviting. They make a convenient target within reach." He chuckled. "There are many ways to play with them, and women enjoy having them played with. What's not to like, really?"

"Sure, but they're all guys seem to look at. You'd think a woman was nothing but her tits. We do have more to offer."

"I agree." He reached between her legs to rub her mound.

She smacked him on the arm. "Cheater."

"I can't help it. I've got a lot pent up."

"Oh, really?"

"You try living surrounded by the opposite sex all the time. It tends to cause frustration."

"Need I remind you my daughter is one of those 'opposite sex'?"

"Well, I didn't mean her." Shinobu was what, fourteen? Not a chance.

"Oh, so you don't think my daughter is pretty?"

"What? No, I…" He trailed off when he realised she was snickering into her fist. "That's not fair."

"But you make it so easy. No wonder that Mitsune girl manages to drive you crazy."

Yes, while Naru and Motoko had grown less reactionary, Kitsune was still her mischievous self. Keitaro's nights with Ritsuko might have inured him to Naru's innocent flashes of skin, but Kitsune knew just what buttons to push; and push them she did: for rent money, to get him in trouble, or just to see him squirm.

"You'll never get her respect if you turn into a school boy every time she wears a tight pair of jeans."

"Easier said than done." He checked the clock at the bedside. "I'd better head back."

Once he was dressed she led him to the door and kissed him goodbye. They never said anything else, never made arrangements for the next meeting. They both knew he'd be back next week and she'd be waiting.