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Tug-of-War	By : thewriterwhocameinfromthecold Category: +G to L > Love Hina Views: 57788 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina or it's associated characters. I am not profiting off this work in any way.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
It always seemed to rain whenever Kitsune returned from a working vacation. Usually such an inauspicious return to the rigours of ordinary life seemed unfair, but today she welcomed it as matched her mood to perfection. The article had been a simple matter; the band had known of her coming and made themselves available for an interview after the show. All in all, the process had taken a couple hours, leaving her free to explore Nagasaki for the rest of the evening after mailing the article ahead of her. Afterwards, Yoshi the photographer assigned to work the piece with her suggested that they go out for a drink. Prior to that moment, she hadn’t given him much thought; he’d been her colleague for the day. Still she realised that she didn’t know anyone else in the city, and so decided to accept his offer. He wasn’t bad looking, he knew how to talk to women, and had seemed to enjoy her company. It had been a refreshing change from the usual indifference; and so she went with him, determined to put her unhappy landlord behind her. Kitsune wasn’t given to sentimentality. If a guy didn’t like her, she didn’t waste time. So, if Keitaro was going to behave like she was something to be tolerated, then she would move on. There were other men out there.
One drink had turned into several, and then dancing and whispered words as hands forged daring paths. They stumbled around her hotel room, entwined, looking for the light switch. Then she pulled apart long enough to rip off her shirt and collapse on the bed, raring to go. That was until he pulled out his camera. The word “stop” was on her lips just as the flash went off. Kitsune didn’t have many rules when it came to her liaisons, but one of them was that what passed between her and her lover stayed between them – save for a little gossip to Naru – and that meant no pictures. He apologised, kissed her, and she decided to relax. Still, her alarm had been tripped. Then he unzipped his fly and his hand came to rest on her head.
Nope. Not after that little stunt with the camera.
When she’d shaken off his hand, he gave her a look of annoyance that made her start to regret bringing him back. Still, she tried to make the best of things by lying back on the bed with her legs spread, teasing that if he took care of her, she might be prepared to do the same.
Instead of smiling as she had hoped, he glowered at her and said, “I don’t do that.”
That was all Kitsune had needed to hear.
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”
“Are you kidding me?” he said, grabbing her wrist. “After all that teasing, you’re just going to say ‘no’?”
A flicker of fear passed over her when he had grabbed her wrist; but she looked into his eyes and saw that he’d surprised himself. Uncertainty haunted his glare. Kitsune didn’t care. She just wanted him out of there. So she screwed on a sycophantic smile and crawled up to him as if she were about to grant his wish. She reached into his pants, found his balls, clamped down until he screamed out, and dragged him to the door by the scrotum. Then she ripped the film out of his camera and tossed it out after him.
“You bitch! You’ll be sorry.”
“Selfish bastard. You’ve got two seconds to get out of here before I cry ‘rape’.”
He’d been gone in one.
Kitsune realised, as she debarked the train, that she’d become a bit spoiled. Not all guys were as giving as Keitaro or as nice; even when he was giving her the cold shoulder. At least he’d never pushed her to do something she didn’t want. She shuddered. It had only hit her the next morning, once she’d sobered up, the kind of danger she had been in. The feeling had clung to her like a wet shroud all the way home. As she surveyed the rain from the steps of the train station, Kitsune reflected upon the blessings of home. Getting the cold shoulder from her former fling was fine if it meant that she could sleep soundly. The more she reflected, the more she began to see his point. Her sleeping with him had been about her, not him. Perhaps if she apologised, they could retreat to neutral corners for a while and sort things out. Maybe give it another try when they knew more about each other.
She hadn’t thought to pack an umbrella, so she steeled herself and stepped out into the rain, running between trees and awnings to avoid the damp. As she turned a corner two guys wearing glasses gave her winning smiles.
“Hey cutie,” the taller of the two said, “Want to get some tea with us?”
Kitsune said nothing, stepping past them without a glance. Sorry boys, not on a day like today, and certainly not with a line like that.
“What about her?”
Despite herself, Kitsune turned and followed where the shorter man was pointing to a group of girls in high school uniforms. Was that…Yes, those were Reika High uniforms, Motoko’s school. They were huddled under a pair of umbrellas and seemed to be coming from the train station. Motoko said she was returning today, Kitsune remembered. So could it be? She caught sight of Motoko’s long ebon hair, and her eyes flashed to the two guys making a fast clip toward the group.
Oh hell.
Kitsune watched in paralysed horror as the guys waved and called out. She watched as Motoko calmly closed her umbrella and swung it in a perfect men strike. A gust of wind launched the hapless Romeos off their feet and through the air. They skidded along the slick pavement and crashed into a mailbox leaving two appreciable dents. Motoko reopened her umbrella and turned the corner a block away, exiting the stage to the thunderous applause of her entourage.
Pity seized Kitsune and she jogged over to the vanquished Casanovas as they started to pick themselves up. Soaked from head to toe, they groped around for their bent glassed as they struggled to right their bruised bodies. They were truly the most pathetic sight Kitsune had ever seen, and the fact that it was her roommate who was responsible made her feel a need to make amends.
“Are you guys all right?”
The tall one straightened his glasses and looked up to glare at her. “Just peachy.”
“I told you this was a stupid idea,” the shorter one said.
“Whatever.”
Kitsune cleared your throat. “If you come with me, I know a place where you can dry off.”
It was a sorry trio that entered Haruka Urashima’s teahouse that afternoon. Kitsune led the band with the rain just beginning to soak through her coat. Behind her, the tall one – Haitani he’d said – followed with his hair slick against his head. He removed his coat to ring it out on the doorstep. Taking up the rear was Shirai lamented over the tears in his jacket caused by the skid into the mailbox.
“You look like drowned rats,” Haruka observed from her post behind the counter. The shop was empty on account of the rain, so she stepped round to greet her new customers.
“Three teas and a spot by the fire,” Kitsune said, shaking out her hair. “These guys had a little run in with our samurai girl down at the train station.”
Understanding at once, Haruka went to the kitchen to prepare the tea. Out of the corner of her eye, Kitsune caught Shirai watching Haruka’s retreating back with the expression of a fish out of water. Perhaps he was still shell shocked. The three of them said nothing – save for thanks when Haruka returned with their tea – as they sat by the fire on the far side of the room, squeezing the rain from their clothes.
“Aunt Haruka?”
Kitsune turned just in time to see Haruka bop Keitaro over the head.
“Just call me Haruka.”
Kitsune was just about to rise from her seat when her two companions jumped up.
“Hey, Keitaro!” Haitani called. “What are you doing here, man?”
They knew each other?
“This is my Aunt’s teahouse,” Keitaro replied, ducking another head strike. “I live just up the road.” His expression turned blank as he looked at her. “Oh, hello Kitsune.”
That was it, they were talking.
“Your aunt?” Shirai looked at the woman behind the counter.
“Kitsune?” Haitani gripped Keitaro by the shoulders. “You’re telling me that you live with this stone cold fox?”
The warmth Kitsune felt at the compliment was doused by Keitaro’s nonchalance. “She’s just my tenant. Don’t make more of it then there is.”
Just his tenant? What the hell? Where was the flustered little boy from a month ago? Did she really mean that little to him?
“That’s right,” she said with a rictus grin. “Mr. Manager, would you mind if we spoke for a little bit?” She cast a quick glance at the others. “In private?”
Keitaro shrugged, which bothered her almost as much as a refusal. “What do you want?” he asked once they were in the privacy of Haruka’s back room.
Kitsune winced at the blunt edge in his voice. “I suppose I should ask you that,” she said, looking at the floor. “I probably should have asked you that from the start.”
Keitaro blinked. “What does that mean?”
Kitsune wet her lips and at him through lidded eyes. “It means that from the moment you arrived I treated you like a piece of meat, even if it became more than that; and I’m sorry.”
Keitaro nodded. “Okay.”
“Wait, what? Okay?”
“Yeah, I forgive you. I did a while ago. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad, though,” he added after a pause.
A beam of light shone through the dark foreboding clouds. “Does this mean we’re okay?”
Keitaro considered. “I’m not going to say I don’t feel used, but,” he shrugged, “I think we will be.”
Oh, God, it felt so good to hear him say that. The rottenness of the weekend, no of the entire last two weeks just started to melt away. So much for not being sentimental. Oh, who cares, she thought as she saw a faint glimmer of a smile cross his face, he was too cute to just forget about like that.
“What did you mean ‘more than that’?” Keitaro asked, bringing her back to the present.
“Oh, well…” Why was she nervous? “You’ve got to admit, there’s a certain…spark.” That was true, wasn’t it? “I like you, not just as a lay.” She smirked. “Though you are pretty good in that department.”
To his credit, Keitaro managed to keep his reaction to a blush without flailing or gibbering. “Well…On that note, there’s something we should talk about.”
“Sounds serious,” she said, using his blush to feed her sense of control. “Should I be sitting down?”
Keitaro ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Look, I’ve been doing some thinking…”
“Dangerous habit.”
“May I continue? Anyway, I’ve thought about what I want, and what I want is to get into to Tokyo U. My reasons for it aren’t as clear as they once were, but it still means everything to accomplish this goal.”
“So where do I come into this?”
“You live with a university hopeful, so you must know the exam calendar.”
“Intimately,” Kitsune groaned. “Whether I want to or not.”
“Then, you know that the next couple months are really important. So I’ve talked to Naru and she’s agreed that it would a good idea to cool it for a while.”
Naru! Why was Naru always at the heart of her every romantic hiccup?
“Are…?” She let out an incredulous giggle. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“No,” he warbled. “But I want to do my best, and I can’t do that and sort out where I stand with Naru and you at the same time.”
Naru, why was it always Naru?
“Yes,” she said in a clipped voice, “what about Naru?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You think I don’t know how this sounds? You both…matter to me. And until I get my life in order, I don’t know what else to do.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Please, I need time.”
His touch brought her out of her fuming state, and she forced herself to recognise that he wasn’t Yoshi, trying to get whatever he could out of her. If he said he needed time, then she knew it was true. He didn’t know the first thing about guile.
“Fine, but don’t think this is over, baby. Naru doesn’t get to hog you all to herself studying. What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just that she said almost the exact same thing about you.”
Kitsune laughed. “Then I have just one more thing.” She pulled him by the shoulders and kissed him hard. Her tongue invaded his mouth, mapping its contours in her memory. “Guess that’ll have to hold me for a while,” she said with a wink and left him stock still in the back room.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Tug-of-War