The Best Laid Schemes

Preface: This story is set in the manga continuity, in the midst of the four year interval before the final volume’s epilogue. As for pairings, I expect to have chapters devoted to pairing Keitaro with most, if not all, of the various girls of the harem… eventually.


The Best Laid Schemes
Chapter 1: Moving On, and How Not To Do It

“Keitaro, you idiot!”

There are some things in life that, no matter how often they occur, no matter how predictable they may be, never fail to catch us off guard. So it was with Naru Narusegawa’s enraged punch, her devastating trademark assault upon her fiancée and landlord Keitaro Urashima. Though years had passed since he had first found himself in the way of his beloved’s fist, and despite all of the damage that had been inflicted upon him since then, Keitaro was still impressed with how painful Naru’s swing could be. And accurate to boot; even though he had trained in martial arts, he had yet to manage to avoid his fiancée’s attacks, though he admitted to himself that doing so might only make matters worse.

Dodging had not even been an option in this case, since he had been too distracted by the event that had sparked Naru’s ire. The two of them had been relaxing together in the common room of the Hinata Girls’ Dormitories, the aged building that Keitaro served as the landlord for, when one of their friends had wandered in. Shinobu Maehara, a student of Tokyo University and a long-time resident of the Hinata House, had returned home hours later than usual. When she had entered the room, she had instantly frozen upon hearing Keitaro’s voice, and when he had turned to face her, he had been shocked at the tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. Before he could call out to ask her what was the matter, she had sprinted from the room, sobbing loudly. He had turned to Naru, hoping to find an answer to his questions about Shinobu’s strange behavior, but instead receiving only a punch for his concern.

Keitaro picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his wounded cheek gingerly. He didn’t understand what had happened. Admittedly, it wouldn’t have been the first time that Shinobu had sprinted from a room crying after seeing him and Naru together, but that had usually happened after she discovered them in whatever compromising position his ill fortune had left him and Naru in. This time, however, the two of them had merely been talking, standing beside each other without even touching. He couldn’t see any reason that he would have upset Shinobu, and certainly no good reason for him to be on the wrong end of Naru’s anger.

“I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve made Shinobu cry again!” Naru scowled down at Keitaro, crossing her arms before her. “What did you do this time?”

“I don’t know!” Keitaro protested, waving his hands in front of him. “She just walked in the room, and started crying! I didn’t have time to do anything!”

He flinched back as Naru leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him dangerously. She studied him in silence for a moment before straightening. “Fine. But you still have to fix it, whatever is wrong.” Thrusting a commanding finger in the direction that Shinobu had fled, Naru glowered at him, waiting for him to hurry out of the room.

“S-sure, as soon as I figure out whatever it is I’m supposed to fix,” Keitaro lamented, walking towards the door. As he departed, Naru stared at his back, her expression softening as second thoughts began to crowd into her mind.

“Wait, don’t,” Naru said softly, and Keitaro turned, puzzled, not understanding the change in her mood. When he faced her, he noticed that she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’ll send up Kitsune or someone in a minute to check on her. You would probably just make it worse,” she offered, though somehow the statement lacked conviction. “And anyways, don’t you have cleaning to do, or something? It’s getting late.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Keitaro yielded, offering his fiancée a lackluster smile as he scratched his head in confusion. As he turned to leave, he couldn’t help but glance in the direction that Shinobu had run. What had gotten into her, and was he really responsible? Keitaro shook his head, trying to fight off his concern. He would find out sooner or later, and help if he could. He didn’t think he had done anything to hurt Shinobu, and if he had he would work to make it right.

Surely it would all work out somehow.

******

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

Shinobu sobbed into her pillow, shivering slightly as the wind from her open window blew across her. She had not yet changed out of the clothes she had been wearing, the clothes that she had so nervously laid out the night before. She couldn’t help but recall the burgeoning optimism and anxiety that she had felt then, and bitterly realized the foolishness of it all.

“I can’t believe I am so stupid…”

It had all started a few days earlier, after one of her courses at Tokyo U. She had been one of the last to walk out of the classroom, going over in her head the time she would have to devote to classwork and the time she would need for her usual chores around the Hinata House. She had been so lost in thought that she had not noticed the boy waving at her, trying to get her attention, until finally he approached her and put his hand on her shoulder.

She had been so surprised that at first she had not recognized him. His short, dark hair, his glasses, his slim build; on quick inspection, there was definitely plenty of similarities, enough to explain her startled question. “K-Keitaro?”

“No, but close. My name’s Kenta.” The boy had smiled at her, jerking his thumb back at the classroom she had just left. “Y’know, we have that class together.” Not understanding at first, she glanced between the door and him several times before comprehension dawned. On second glance, the differences between Kenta and her sempai became apparent: Keitaro had looked similar years ago, but time had done a lot to narrow his features and bolster the confidence in his expression. Plus, there was something about the eyes, as Kenta’s lacked the softness that Shinobu had so long admired in the eyes of Keitaro. Still, the resemblance was quite strong…

It had shocked her that Kenta’s intent had been to ask her on a date. Without even stopping to consider, she had stammered out an acceptance, and the two had managed to work out a time before she had carefully walked away, her cheeks burning crimson. She had made it safely away before the nervous giggling had started, an electric excitement that had only barely been tinged with a discontent feeling of shame. It didn’t make sense to feel guilty, she had reassured herself. Her sempai was engaged, would be getting married to Naru in several months. He would probably be happy that she was going on a date.

Finally her nervous excitement had won out, and all during the trip back to the Hinata House her mind was a blur of ideas and daydreams. She didn’t know much about Kenta, but surely he had to be a nice guy, like her sempai. Surely the resemblance went beyond their faces. And, if that was true, then maybe…

She had decided as she climbed the stairs to the dorms that she would keep the whole thing a secret from the other residents, especially from Keitaro, though she wouldn’t allow herself to question why. She had been forced to reveal the matter to only one person, someone who might not have the discretion to keep her secret but would be the best source of dating advice she could think of: Kitsune. Mitsune Konno had been living in the Hinata House for longer than she, and had gone to school with Naru before pursuing a freelance writing career. Not burdened by the demands of academia, Kitsune had enjoyed an energetic social life, and certainly had the most experience with men out of all the girls who shared the dorms. If anyone could give her good advice on dating, it had to be Kitsune.

An excruciatingly embarrassing conversation later, complete with illustrations and product demonstrations, Shinobu had fled from Kitsune’s room, resolving to figure it out for herself. She had agonized for hours over what to wear, finally choosing an outfit that she recalled Keitaro had complimented her on. She had even decided to wear make-up, which is something she typically shied from. As she had gone to bed that night, she couldn’t force herself to sleep, until finally exhaustion claimed her.

And then, tonight, she had gone on the date. She had admired herself in the mirror beforehand, proud of what she had accomplished without the help of Kitsune or any of the others. She had snuck out of the dorms, carefully avoiding the attention of Kaolla Su and passing behind Motoko Aoyama as her older friend trained with her sword. Once she arrived at the place she had agreed to meet Kenta at, making it there several minutes early, she had had to wait for only a short while before he arrived, casually walking up just a few minutes late.

She had thought that it was going so well. They had taken a walk together, taking the chance to talk on the way to a café that he wanted to eat at. They agreed to see a movie afterwards; she had blinked at the order, thinking it more typical to see the movie before dinner, but he had insisted that he was too hungry to wait, so she had quickly acquiesced. At first, he had done most of the talking, but after a while she had begun to relax, tricking herself into thinking that she had known Kenta for as long as she had known Keitaro. After that, she had begun to become more involved in the conversation, even, as she knew now, occasionally dominating it.

She had felt so confident then. She had felt that she could open up a bit, share with him some of her life at the Hinata House. As she reminisced a bit on some of her favorite memories of her friends, she had failed to notice his discomfort. She hadn’t understood why his questions had gotten sharper, his eyes had become even harder. Not even her best stories could get a laugh out of him.

It had all ended when they had left the café. They had made it only a few steps down the street, Shinobu finishing the story she had begun as they had stood from the table, when he had turned to her, grabbing her shoulders a little too tightly. She had recoiled from the anger in her eyes, not understanding what she had said to upset him.

“Sempai, sempai, sempai!” he had snarled. “Who the hell is that guy? Why is it that he’s all you’ve talked about this whole time? I swear, if I hear ‘sempai’ one more time…”

It hadn’t taken long after that for them to part ways, the plans to watch the movie together falling to the wayside. She had walked back to the Hinata House in shock, trying desperately to understand what she had done wrong. Yes, she had told a lot of stories about Keitaro, but that was because she lived with him, and because he was usually at the center of all the antics that happened at the Hinata dorms, and because…
Anyways, what did it matter, he was engaged! There was no reason for Kenta to be so… so jealous!

As she had walked into the Hinata House, her head still spinning, she had made her way into the common room, distantly hoping to find Kitsune for advice, or Su for distraction. Instead, she had found Keitaro and Naru, standing together and talking, bright smiles on their faces. In that moment, she realized what she had been doing.

She had been looking for a replacement for Keitaro. She had given up hope of winning him from Naru, and had wanted to find someone that could fill his shoes, be a second Keitaro all for her. That realization had been too much to handle, and she had fled to her room.

She knew that eventually someone would come to check on her, or at least she believed they would. She hoped it wouldn’t be Keitaro; she couldn’t face him right now, considering what had happened. Everything would come pouring out, and then there would be no going back. She knew that he was aware of her feelings for him, feelings that several of her dorm-mates also carried for their landlord, but they had all come to peace with his upcoming marriage to Naru, at least on the outside. It wouldn’t be fair to him or Naru to reopen those old wounds.

Shinobu’s fists clenched as she thought about that, and she pounded one of her pillows. Not fair? No, this wasn’t fair! She loved Keitaro too! She had always been more open about how she felt for him, at least more than Naru. And, for some reason, she had decided to sit on the sidelines and cheer for him in his romance with Naru, even though she knew she would be better for him. She had resigned herself to that role, being there to support him when he and Naru were fighting, working to help out around the dorms, asking him only to help her with her studies.

Shinobu rolled over onto her back, her tear-streaked scowl threatening to slip. She had enjoyed studying with her sempai, even after he had openly chosen Naru. He had taught her that perseverance and effort can trump almost any disadvantage, and that hope is the best weapon you can ever have. She had proven him right, rising above her mediocre grades to earn a place in Tokyo University, just as he had. She was sometimes surprised that her studies had been so successful, considering there had been many a time she had requested Keitaro’s aid only in an excuse to claim his company. Perhaps that was a reason for her progress: she had focused on her studies so often because of the opportunities it gave her to be close to him.

Her anger began to fade as a blush stole onto her cheeks. Perhaps that was part of the reason behind her earlier nervousness, too. If she had intended Kenta to be a replacement for Keitaro, then perhaps she had wanted their date to be a repeat of the date she had shared with her sempai, years ago. That was one of her favorite memories that she had with Keitaro, the time that he had taken her out as a reward for her diligent efforts towards her studies, shortly after she had declared her intent to pursue Tokyo U just as he had. They had gone to an amusement park together, and then to a fancy restaurant, where she had accidently drank white wine, proving that she lacked any form of alcohol tolerance. They had ended up sharing a motel room, where she had slept off her drunkenness, and after a brief misunderstanding the two had decided to spend part of the evening studying together.

Her blush deepened as she remembered that night. Though Keitaro’s intentions had been entirely pure, she had misunderstood completely, had even believed that they had been intimate while she was under the influence of the wine. Her sempai had proven his concern for her when he had broken out the textbooks and study materials, but she had never forgotten her mixed feeling of relief and disappointment at discovering his true intent.

She had kept that memory fresh for another reason. Ever since that night, she had tortured herself with dreams of what might have happened, if Keitaro had not been so morally strong, if he had not had Naru to think of, if he perhaps had more of the wine. Over and again she had returned in her mind to that motel room, to the moment she awoke from her drunken slumber and realized what may have happened or could yet happen between her and her beloved sempai. That moment of tantalizing potential, when she could have had what she desperately wanted for just a moment, had fate offered her another path.

Immediately she felt warmer, her body’s Pavlovian response to those thoughts only just beginning. For a second she felt ashamed, but her mind quickly revealed to her the only other route for her thoughts to follow this night: a return to the date she had escaped earlier that day, replaying those events over and over with renewed doubt and guilt every time she was forced to relive her failings. Could she be blamed for seeking a little self-indulgence, a greedy pleasure stolen from a reconstructed past? She didn’t want to cry any more, so she would take what happiness she could scrounge from her over-sensitive imagination.

Her fingers slid down towards the lower edge of her skirt as she hastily tugged at her blankets with her other hand, pulling them over her in an effort to protect herself from any abrupt intrusions from her roommates. She had become something of an expert at this, though only after she had narrowly avoided discovery several times. She cast a glance towards the door, letting one last dark thought through; she doubted anyone would be coming to check on her after all.

Thrusting that notion aside, she let the temptation of that familiar fantasy consume her once again. She brought herself back to that futon in a hotel room, heard the water running as her sempai took a shower in the connected bathroom. She hastily stood as he came out of the shower, and took hers, remembering the doubts she had had then and replacing them with the eagerness and intent that she felt now. She was a woman, not a child, and she was eager to prove that to the man she loved.

Back in her room at the Hinata House, her hand returned from its trail downwards, pulling her skirt back up with it. That done, she slid her hand between her legs and pulled her panties aside, exposing her nether regions to the tentative touch of her fingers. She lightly brushed her fingertips against her skin, taking her time as she allowed the fantasy to consume her. Experience had taught her that anticipation made the sensation all the sweeter, and gave her even more time to enjoy her dreams.

In her mind, she stepped from the shower, drying herself with a towel and wrapping it around her. There was no need to dress again; that would only result in wasted time. This way, she could stand before her beloved fresh and clean from the shower, completely ready for him. Steeling herself, she opened the door and stepped into the room where Keitaro waited.

Outside her fantasy, Shinobu’s fingers began to run up and down along her lower lips, her eagerness and pleasure waxing and waning with each circuit. Realizing that she was reaching the heart of her dream, she let her fingers slow on one downward trip, reaching a little further inside to collect some of her increasing moistness on her fingertips. That done, she drew her hand back, aiming her lubricated fingertips at their ultimate goal.

Sempai would be glad to see her, would be eager like she was, only much more calm. He was more mature than she, more experienced, and it would show in his calm grace as he stood and walked to her, pulling her to him tightly, breathing in her clean scent, his arms protecting her warmth from the chill of the room against her drying skin. Without a word, he would tilt her chin up and kiss her deeply, passionately. He would draw her back towards the futon, and they would slide down to it together, still locked in their embrace. Relaxing his hold on her, Keitaro’s hand would wander across her, reaching for the edge of the towel as she reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, slowly but inexorably.

Shinobu’s fingers still circled the core of her sensation, not drawing too close, not yet. She was letting the feeling build gradually, not content to rush matters. As, in her mind, Keitaro reached up to touch one of her breasts, she let her fingers brush against her clitoris, then let them return to their circling as she gasped at the sensation.

They would lay naked in each other’s arms for some time, kissing and enjoying the feeling of their naked bodies
pressing together. Finally, Keitaro would take the initiative, letting his hand trail down, between her legs, touching her just the way she was touching herself. As the dream and reality came closer together, Shinobu began rubbing her clit directly, though slowly, as she imagined her sempai’s cautious exploration of her. He would be gentle, but firm, and would expertly bring her closer to readiness for the main act of their lovemaking.

Shinobu’s breath was coming faster, and she could feel her cheeks burning, but she focused all her attention on that one little spot, and the growing pressure inside of her. As she envisioned her sempai rolling her onto her back, taking his place between her legs with a look of tenderness and confidence, she let her fingers accelerate, running back and forth across that sensitive knob in tight circles. This would be the moment, the first time that she and her sempai came together completely, became one. She had heard that it would hurt the first time, but pain had no place in this dream, and she imagined that she could feel him entering her, filling her completely.

The vision began to fade away at the edges as Shinobu’s physical sensations started to tug harder at her attention, dulling her thoughts. Still she fought to imagine what it would be like to make love to Keitaro, to feel him moving inside and atop her. She would stare up at him, would watch his face, would do all she could to make him feel good. It would already be bliss for her just to share that act with him, but the actual feeling would be-

“Ah,” she moaned, her fingers automatically continuing their frenzied circling. “Ah. Ah! ...ah.” She was too close, and as the electric current of her pleasure washed away all coherent thought Shinobu stared up one final time at the imagined face of her beloved.

“Ah… sempai!” she cried, fighting to control the volume of her voice but losing, and then the sensation exploded inside her. “S… SEMPAI!”

For a long moment, the room was silent as Shinobu was wracked by the raw power of her climax, until finally she released a shuddering breath, relaxing all of her muscles at once. For just a moment, her brain tried to return to its previous concerns, but she dismissed those efforts easily. She would have tomorrow to face reality; tonight, she would choose contented oblivion.

As Shinobu drifted off to sleep, she wore a small smile of bittersweet satisfaction on her face. Perhaps she would be condemned to an eternity of imagined victories, but at least in her dreams she could claim her beloved for herself. Snuggling against the absent warmth of her sempai’s body, Shinobu succumbed to her exhaustion, and felt no more.

******

Just outside the door, a hand hesitated in mid-knock, frozen in place the second Shinobu had cried out for Keitaro. For a long moment, the person at the door waited, thinking deeply. So, this is how it was, to this day. Nothing had changed.

And, unless something was done, perhaps it never would change.

The person standing at Shinobu’s door turned, quietly walking away, but with a new determination building with each step. Shinobu wasn’t the only one, and it would only get worse. With the wedding coming up, time was running out.

It was time to change the rules.

Author’s Note: Let me start by saying this is definitely a work in progress. As a matter of fact, I had almost decided to hold off on publishing this, since my only reader thus far gave me a rather… sharp… review (Something along the lines of ‘I know you can do better,’ /wince). It’s also probably going to be published on a somewhat haphazard schedule, since the majority of my focus is supposed to be on my Rosario + Vampire arc on FFN. And, also, I will admit that every chapter may not feature a lemon scene, as I’m the sort that likes to build up tension before giving up the good stuff.

Warnings aside, welcome to my story. This particular tale is shaping up, as far as my plotwork goes, to be a rather longish one. My goal for this story is to offer a sort of… adaptation of Akamatsu’s canon conclusion, one which might offer a gleam of hope for those of us who preferred a less cut-and-dry finish for our hapless hero. As a card-carrying wielder of the Tenchi Solution, I intend to construct a happy ending, like Akamatsu’s white wedding, but for all of the characters, unlike Akamatsu’s more monogamous solution. If I succeed, in the end of all the characters mind find some of the satisfaction that is so lacking in this series… I hope, anyways.

Wish me luck. Oh, and please, speak up; this is my first citrus fic, and I need to know how I’m doing!

~Wynn P.