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May/December	By : thewriterwhocameinfromthecold Category: +G to L > Love Hina Views: 14884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina or its associated characters. I am not profiting from this in any way.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
AN: Hey, usually, I prefer not to write notes in the middle of my stories; but I know people have been waiting for this update, and I just wanted to apologise for making people wait so long. My excuse is the story we usually hear as readers, I'm afraid: Fall has been a very busy time for me this year and I haven't had as much time to write as I had before late September. Anyway, I had intended to work until I had finished Part 3 entirely and give it all to you guys at once before starting Part 4, but Samhan, one of my oldest and most steadfast fans, sent me a message asking after me (Thanks for lighting a fire under me, buddy). So I decided that I owed you guys a little more than making you wait while I tried to finish a Christmas gift that might not arrive on time.
So, in honour of the season, I gift you with this chapter. I hope you like it, and I promise that more story is on the way, mercifully free of any more author notes.
Enjoy.
Naru leaned against the bulkhead and prayed to die. She shut her eyes as if blinding herself to the rocking of the boat would inure her to the motion; but it only made things worse as her gorge rose, threatening loose her breakfast all over the cabin as her stomach – no longer content to rock with the waves – seemed to be trying to punch its way out. She looked over to ask Motoko to help her perform seppuku, but the Hinata samurai was looking no better; her milk white complexion had turned a dull green and her brown eyes bulged with the pain of nausea as her mouth firmed a hard pressed line, determined to ward off the urge that gripped them all: to void their stomachs and be done with it.
From his position on the top bunk, Keitaro summed up the feelings of all present. “I hate boats. Really, really hate boats.”
Then, Mutsumi burst in. “Here I am,” she sang, looking so fresh and ready for anything that it made Naru want to throw up on her, and then kill her. The Okinawan brandished a small tube of tablets. “I managed to snag the last bottle of Dramamine. Lucky us, huh?”
Affirmatives responses required more energy than the other three possessed, but Mutsumi paid no attention as she passed around the tablets. The room remained silent save for Mutsumi’s humming until the pills did their work and each convalescent began to sit up a little straighter.
“Has anyone seen the rest of the boat yet?” Mutsumi asked. The others shook their heads. The sea sickness had hit not long after leaving the harbour, so the only part of the ferry they had seen was their compartment and the hallway leading up to it.
Keitaro decided the fresh air would do him good and asked if anyone wanted to join as he struggled out of the bunk. Naru agreed and followed along with Mutsumi.
“Oh.” She turned to Motoko, noticing latently that Keitaro had avoided looking at her when he had made the invitation. “Are you coming?”
Motoko shook her head. “I shall stay and meditate a while. We will meet later.” Her face was as impenetrable as ever, and Naru gave up trying to decipher what seemed to be hanging in the air.
It was cool and crisp on the outer deck as Naru tossed her wind swept hair out of her face and leaned against the railing to look out upon the vast rippling blue expanse. Nausea far behind her, she watched as the waves tossed and rolled against the boat.
It’s a beautiful day, Yumi. You’d have loved it here. If you could stand the rolling.
She bit her lip and wondered dangerous wonderings. Had it been a boy or a girl? Who was the father? Was he the person Yumi had been waiting to hear from? What would happen to Yumi now, to her family in Nagano?
Suddenly the boat began to feel too confining for Naru. She wanted to dive out into the sea, to get away from its constricting cabins and its tight railings, and swim fast, swim far until everything was far behind her and she could scream loud and hard into the echoing depths of space.
“Hey.” She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to see Keitaro. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She screwed on a smile and said she was. His smile said “Liar, liar”, but instead they stood together against the railing until Mutsumi came to find them and they went inside for tea.
Noboru took the cigarette from behind his ear and stuck it in his mouth,
“Should have been here by now,” he said, reaching for his lighter. “Damn boats are never on time.”
His companion stopped scratching her ear to look up and cock her head.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Noboru said, taking a deep drag. “It’s not like I can make the ferry appear. Besides, if it were up to you, I’d still be back at the inn, waiting for you to stop chasing squirrels.”
The black Labrador Retriever at his feet barked an affronted yip.
Noboru laughed. “Don’t give me that. Fine,” he said after another bark, “have it your way.”
Oblivious to the strange looks his conversation had garnered, the stubble-cheeked man straightened and squinted out at the sea as he fanned himself with the collar of his shirt. Too hot for this, he thought. Too hot by half. His mind wandered back to his hammock and a cool glass of watermelon juice or a beer with thick beads of condensation running down the glass. He licked his lips as he glanced at his watch. If the delay wasn’t too long, he’d still be able to catch the first pitch of the game, so long as Natsumi didn’t catch him slacking off. Maybe he ought to find a bar…
No sooner had the thought occurred, then he caught sight of the ferry. The coat tooted its horn as it entered the harbour. Noboru sighed and crushed the cigarette under his foot. Refreshment would have to wait.
“Come on, old girl. Sumi’s waiting.”
His companion leapt to her feet and followed, wagging her tail so hard her behind got in on the action.
Keitaro cringed against the thick and humid air as he followed the girls to the gang plank. The sun beat down without mercy on his pale hide, as his clothes – unsuited for the tropics – slowly cooked him. Just ahead, Motoko looked just uncomfortable in her thick gi and hakama. The two hadn’t exchanged a word since Kyoto, had avoided asking each other questions, always directing their attention at the other girls; and Keitaro saw no reason to change now. After all, he hadn’t invited her. Let her sweat.
Naru’s jacket was draped over her arm as she followed Mutsumi who was almost skipping, at home in her element. Keitaro would have thought the stifling heat would make the anemic girl even weaker, but she seemed to derive strength form the steamy air. He was jus about to comment on it when Mutsumi let out a joyful whoop and waved.
“Sumi! Sumi girl!” A man shoved his way through the gathered crowd. His shaggy black hair stuck to his forehead as a grin split his unshaven face. “There’s my Sumi girl!” he cried, holding his dark muscled arms wide.
Mutsumi giggled as she ran – more activity than Keitaro had thought her capable of – and the man scooped her up and twirled her around as if she weighed nothing.
“Oh, Sumi, Sumi girl, let me look at you.” He set her down and kissed both her cheeks.
Motoko looked down at her feet, and even Keitaro and Naru turned away. Such an unrestrained greeting was, well it just wasn’t done in public.
“Oh!” Keitaro turned to Naru staring down at a big black dog. The dog waggd its tail and leaned in to sniff Naru’s knees before stepping forward to lean against her legs and stare up at her with eyes of luminescent chocolate. Naru gave the dog a nervous look and looked at Keitaro with imploring.
“Sophia!” The man let Mutsumi go and stepped towards the dog, wagging his finger. “What have I told you?” He looked up at Naru. “I’m sorry, miss. She couldn’t hurt a fly, but she’ll latch onto anyone she thinks might feed her.” He snapped his fingers. “Get over there, you sneaky little bitch,” he said with an exasperated smile.
With great dignity, Sophia followed the command, making a show of not looking at her owner.
“Papa,” Mutsumi said, coming to stand beside him, “I’d like you to meet my friends.”
“Friends? Oh!” The man tried to smooth his hair back to no avail. “Noboru Otohime,” he said, bowing, “at you service. Welcome to Okinawa.” After the three newcomers had introduced themselves, Noburo pointed to the dog sitting nicely beside him. “Everyone, this is Sophia.” He looked down at the dog. “Well? Aren’t you going to say hello?”
Sophia looked at each in turn and let out a happy bark, her tongue hanging out in a dog smile.
“Papa, these people were hoping to stay at the inn.” Mutsumi leaned down to scratch Sophia’s ears. The dog let out a happy groan and leaned into the scratch.
“Well, now.” Noburo scratched his neck. “The thing is I thought it would just be you, so I drove here in my pickup.” He gave the trio a helpless look. “If you don’t mind riding in the back. I mean, it’s a bit of a ways for a cab ride.”
Motoko, Naru and Keitaro looked at each other and shrugged. It couldn’t be any worse than the boat.
“Should be clean enough back there,” Noburo told them once he’d led them to the parking lot. He patted the old brown Datsun, giving it a look usually reserved for Mercedes and Jaguars, and opened up the lift gate. Sophia hopped onto the truck bed and curled up in her accustomed place underneath the rear window.
“Come on,” Mutsumi called, climbing into the passenger seat.
Keitaro and the other girls eyed the aging truck with suspicion. Finally, deciding that the truck bed appeared to be the cleanest part of the vehicle, and that it was either ride here or pay for a cab, they climbed in. Keitaro went first and pulled Naru up. He hesitated at Motoko before deciding he was being petty and offering her help as well. She sniffed in contempt and hoisted herself up into the truck bed, closing the gate behind her and settling as far from Keitaro as she could.
“Hold on tight,” Noburo called back. “This next part can get a little bumpy.”
They headed out of the city and into the hill country. Keitaro clung to wall behind him and Naru clung to his arm as the bumpy road rattled and shook the truck. Everything around them was a lush and verdant green, the type only dreamed of in Tokyo. Even Hinata with all its gardens couldn’t compare with the endless guava and banyan trees that lined the road.
Motoko, determined to stick it out alone, braced herself against the trucks frame and looked pointedly away from Keitaro and Naru. She was wondering how Naru could have grown so blind to the pervert’s deceptions, when she felt something cold against her elbow. She started, and looked over to see Sophia looking up at her.
She looked away again, only to feel the coldness of Sophia’s nose.
“What is it?” she demanded.
Sophia cocked her head, as if puzzled by the question. Then, she flopped down to the ground, resting her head in Motoko’s lap with a happy sigh.
Motoko glared down at the dog in consternation. “Go away.” She crossed her arms. “Get off me, dog.”
Rather than get off, Sophia rolled over and stared up at Motoko with a wheedling whine.
“She wants you to scratch her belly,” Naru said, concealing a smile with her hand.
Sophia whined. Motoko growled back. “Nothing for you here. Go away.”
Sophia held Motoko’s gaze for a while, then rolled off her and walked over to Naru and Keitaro in search of better fortunes.
When he was five, Keitaro had been chased for a block by a Shiba Inu dog that had escaped from its yard. To this day, he felt a little wary about them; and as Sophia approached, he slid back. Naru had no such worries and attacked the dog’s ears with both hands.
“Hey, girl. Aren’t you sweet?”
Sophia gave a stuttering groan and leaned so hard into Naru’s scratching fingers that she fell over. Naru giggled as the dog rolled over on her belly and looked up at her with begging eyes. She kept up the scratching as Sophia’s hind leg began to kick in a scratching motion. Keitaro laughed and turned his attention back to the landscape. They continued this way until they came to a stop at the base of a hill.
“That’s it up there,” Noburo called out, pointing. “Welcome to the Otohime Inn.”
The three looked up to the top of the hill where there stood a great wooden building, covered in faded green paint, looking to be over a hundred years old. With its sloping roof and gigantic arching entrance, it looked a great deal like the Hinata Inn. Noburo shifted gears and drove them up the hill. Once they had piled out of the truck, a woman in a simple maroon kimono stepped out of the main archway and onto the dirt path, stepping between the two or three cars parked in front. Her smile was weary but cheerful, and as she strode forth, she fiddled with her hair which was tied back in a messy pony tail.
“Honey,” she cried out, her arms wide.
Mutsumi giggled and ran towards the woman, meeting her in a clinging hug. As they pulled apart, they began chattering to each other about Mutsumi’s trip, forgetting the others until Noburo cleared his throat and thumbed in the direction of the trio awkwardly kicking the dirt.
“Oh, hello. I am Natsumi Otohime,” the woman said, bowing. “Are you Mutsumi’s friends?”
The three bowed, and Naru explained their meeting and Mutsumi’s offer to put them up.
Natsumi clicked her tongue. “Mutsumi, I know it’s the off season, but you might have called ahead.” Her smile was still friendly, however, and somehow, all three guests knew that they were about to be welcomed. “Well, you simply must come in, then. We’ve still got rooms available. You must be tired from your long journey.”
As Keitaro and the rest made their way to the front door, Natsumi turned to her husband.
“Oh, darling?”
The words sounded almost cloying, but something about them sent shivers down Keitaro’s spine. At the same time, Sophia whined and, correctly guessing the strongest member of the group, slunk away from her master to hide behind Motoko.
Noburo shuddered the shudder of the recently condemned as he turned to meet his executioner with a smile. “Yes, my love?”
Natsumi’s smile was still firmly in place, as sweet as frozen maple syrup. “Did you let those poor people ride up here in that dirty truck of yours?”
Noburo bit his lip, seemed to shrink into himself before the woman who stood a foot lower than him. “Well, I didn’t know anyone else was coming so I thought…”
“It never occurred to you how dangerous it might be?”
“Well, I…”
Natsumi giggled. Then her hand shot out, quicker than any Naru punch, to grab Noburo by the ear. “Yes,” she said. “I can see we’re going to have to have a long talk about what you were thinking. Mutsumi?” She turned to her daughter and said over her husband’s howls of pain, “Will you see that your friends get settled?” before turning to drag her husband towards the nearby garden shed.
Sophia spared her master a whimper of sympathy as he accused his wife of trying to tear off his ear. Motoko, like the others, was so stunned by the display that she didn’t even notice Sophia lick her hand as if to say, “Thanks for the save.” and bound off around the house in search of safety and squirrels.
Dinner that night was a strange affair. Noburo sat in silence and ate his food with monkish seriousness, his eyes on his rice bowl. Sophia, realising that her master wasn’t about to be his usual generous self, decided to try her luck with the other members of the table: she brushed her nose against Motoko’s knee only to be nudged aside. She huffed in frustration and moved along to Naru – who scratched her ears, but gave no food – and Keitaro – who just shied away. Finally, Mutsumi put the mutt out of her misery and slipped her a piece of chicken. Sophia wolfed down her prize and settled down to watch carefully in case any other scraps should fall from the table.
“Mutsumi,” her mother chided. “You know you shouldn’t give in to her.”
Mutsumi shrugged and kept eating.
Natsumi, to Noburo’s immediate right, peppered her daughter and the others with hundreds of questions about Tokyo University, the exam, and life in Tokyo in general. She saved the bulk of her questions for Keitaro once she found out that he was Hina’s grandson. Keitaro explained about the old inn becoming a dorm, and how he came to be manager after Hina left for a trip around the world. He was careful, as he sat next to Naru and across from Motoko, to censor his story of any mentions of violence or accidental perversions.
As she ate and chattered with Mutsumi, Naru cast covert glances between Motoko and Keitaro, who were still looking anywhere, but at each other. They’d been ignoring each other since the ferry, and whatever was between them was just getting worse. She had just resolved to confront the issue after dinner when Natsumi asked Motoko if her gi and hakama were all the clothes she had.
Motoko, who had been sweating in silence, admitted that they were the main part of her wardrobe. “But, really,” she said, with a demure wave of her hand, “I am quite all right this way.”
But Natsumi wasn’t listening. “Mutsumi, do you think you might have something to suit her?”
“But really, I…”
“Nonsense,” Natsumi replied. “Dressed like that, the noonday sun will cook you alive.” She muttered something about people from the city. “Will you help, Mr. Urashima?” she asked, once Mutsumi said she’d check her closet.
“Me?”
“Yes, we’ll need a male perspective as well.”
“What about me?” Noburo asked, left out.
“As I recall, you still have work left over from this afternoon,” Natsumi replied, steel mixing with sweetness as she spoke.
Noburo returned to his rice.
Motoko’s natural deferral to her host did battle with her anger at Keitaro. “If you insist, I will accept your hospitality,” she said, and paused to search for the right words. “I don’t believe a male perspective is necessary, however.” She cast a steely glance at Keitaro, who rolled his eyes.
“That settles that, then,” he said. “Ouch!” He cast an accusing glance at Naru.
“Are you all right?” Mutsumi asked.
“Fine,” he replied before turning to Naru. “All right, what was that for?” he asked under his breath.
“They asked for your help,” Naru replied, pinching him on the thigh again. “So help.” If he and Motoko were forced to work together, then maybe they would work out whatever they were arguing about.
“But-Ouch!” He groaned and turned to Natsumi. “If you need any help, I’m willing.”
“I don’t think…” Motoko started.
“Don’t worry,” Naru said. “I’ll make sure he behaves.” She gave her friend an imploring glance. Please Motoko, just do it. I can’t stand to see you guys fight. It just makes me feel worse inside.
Seeing how much it meant to Naru, Motoko sighed and nodded her assent.
“What’s going on?” Keitaro asked when he and Naru were trudging up the stairs with their bags.
“You should be nicer to her,” Naru said, swinging her bag over the banister onto the landing on the other side.
“Nicer?” Keitaro asked, stung.
“You won’t even look at her now.” She gave him a searching look. “What’s going on, Kei?”
Kei: it was the first time she had ever referred to him so personally, but it went right by him as he tensed up.
“I don’t what you’re talking about,” he said, dropping his bag into the room at the top of the stairs, which Natsumi had told him to take. “Anyway, what does that have to do with me watching Motoko try on clothes? You know she doesn’t want me there. She can’t stand the sight of me. What?” he asked turning when he heard Naru growling.
“Just do it, you idiot!” She slammed the door behind her. Keitaro winced as he heard her stomp down the hall to her own room.
One step forward, two steps back, he thought, kneeling to unzip his bag.
As he unpacked he found the package Sachiko had given him for Motoko. He tossed his clothes in the chest of drawers at the back of the room and picked up the package. Might as well get it over with. He walked down the hall and knocked on the door of Naru and Motoko’s room. To his relief, Naru answered. She looked at him with annoyance and expectation.
“For Motoko from her mother,” he said, handing over the box. “Give it to her for me, will you?”
She shook her head and handed it back. “No.”
He flinched. “Why not?”
“I won’t let you keep avoiding her. Fashion show starts in twenty minutes. Be ready.” She shut the door.
And another step, he thought.
- 12
- 13
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May/December