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May/December	By : thewriterwhocameinfromthecold Category: +G to L > Love Hina Views: 14880 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
When Harumi said that, everything made sense, and nothing. Fujiko's prickliness, her anger at her sister's absence, it all seemed natural to Keitaro as the tumblers fell into place. Still, the more that began to make sense, the more things seemed a mystery to him. Motoko wasn't, she just couldn't be the type to abandon family. Someone who demonstrated such fierce loyalty on a daily basis couldn't be capable of something so callous. So why was she still at Hinata and not with her family if they were in mourning? It didn't make sense. He puzzled over it as he walked with Harumi, but came up with nothing. He looked over at Harumi as she explained her teaching duties at the family school, and realised that, for once, he didn't have to be in the dark.
"Tell me about Motoko?" he asked when Harumi finished her explanation.
If Harumi was surprised by the question, she didn't show it. "Tell you what about her?"
Keitaro shrugged. "I'm just realising that there's so much that I don't know about her. She never talks to me…about anything, really. I didn't even know that she had sisters." Then, realising how that might sound, he flustered, "Not that I'm saying that she…" His rambling was cut short when Harumi raised her hand.
"I understood you. You needn't worry. Motoko has" – she searched for a word – "has never been the confiding type. She was quite close with Tsuruko, but she has always been a little wary of men." Her expression darkened a little. "She gets that from Fujiko."
Keitaro recalled the words of the driver.
"Truth be told, we were all close at one time, but then Father fell ill and Tsuruko decided to get married." She gave a fatalistic shrug. "I suppose we're all still mourning both in our own way."
"Is that why she moved to Hinata?" he wondered aloud.
Harumi bent down to pick up a stray stick. "She got into a prestigious high school in Tokyo and asked to transfer there. We were all shocked, especially on the heels of Tsuruko leaving." She tossed the stick aside. "I suspect, however, that she had been planning to get away for a while. If she hadn't gotten into that school, she'd have found another excuse. If you lost two people you loved, one to death and the other to marriage within a few months of each other, how would you cope?"
"Not very well," he admitted. "Still, to not visit for that long." He shook his head. "You seem awfully calm about it, though. It doesn't bother you?"
She stopped walking. He turned to face her, and cringed. The heat behind Harumi's eyes was proof enough that a line had been crossed. "You presume a great deal, Mr. Urashima. Take care that you never confuse acceptance for indifference."
He bowed in apology and her heat began to recede. She was about to say something else when a loud bang came from the far end of the estate.
She sighed. "At it again already."
"Who?" Keitaro started to ask, but Harumi was already off in the direction of the explosion. He followed her across the grounds until they came a one storey building with the word 'Dojo' imprinted above the main doorway. As they came closer, he could hear the frantic crack of bokken striking, followed occasionally by a shout and a familiar gust. Wind strikes! They didn't practice by halves here at the Aoyama compound.
Harumi stopped short of mounting the stairs, but peered up at the open doorway and cautioned him to keep his head down.
He obeyed and looked alongside her.
Inside the dojo, Fujiko and Eri were locked in combat. Both girls had divested their formal kimonos in favour of the same gi and hakama that Motoko always wore and dove at each other, exchanging blows that echoed out into the compound. Even without all the first hand experience Motoko had given him, it was obvious to him that they were putting everything they had into the fight.
"Shouldn't someone stop them?"
Harumi shook her head. "This happens every so often. It's best to just let them have it out."
Having no other option, Keitaro settled in to watch. He recalled likening Fujiko to a coiled spring and shivered at the sight of all that power unleashed as she leapt into the air and unleashed a lightning strike from her bokken. The energy shot sped straight for Eri's chest, and Keitaro nearly shut his eyes, fearing the worst; but Eri leapt out of the way and answered with a boulder cutting strike that caused the entire structure to rumble. Divested of any elements of the kitchen, and now in full combat gear, Eri appeared less the calm maternal figure and more like a lioness protecting her cubs. Keitaro's knees quaked in memory of his chases with Motoko as he watched the tumult unfold. He snuck a peak at Harumi and saw the relish in her eyes as she watched. There was no doubt now that these were indeed Motoko's sisters.
Fujiko rolled out of the way of the boulder strike and was up on her feet in an instant. She dove for her sister, their bokken locking, but Eri held fast.
"Do you yield?" Fujiko asked through her exertion.
Somewhere amid the strain, Eri managed to smirk. "To a third rate cook? Never!"
With a roar, Fujiko shoved her sister back and thrust for her heart. "I'll teach you to embarrass me!"
Eri batted it away like it was nothing. "You need no help from me there, dear sister," she mocked, and answered with a downward swing that threatened to cleave Fujiko in two.
"Witch!" Fujiko blocked with the forte of her blade and took advantage of her sisters weakness with a kick that sent her flying back.
Eri rolled backwards and came to her knees, clutching her ribs. The mocking smirk remained through the pain. "So unladylike. If Shiro could see you…"
"Don't you talk about him!" Fujiko threw down her sword and tackled her opponent.
Eri seized her sister's lapels and attempted a judo throw, but Fujiko anticipated it and locked their legs together, bringing them both down.
"Take it back," she demanded, putting her sister in a headlock.
"Never!" Eri dug in with her elbows as she struggled to free herself.
Keitaro watched in shock as the two wrestled together. It was almost like watching a scrap between a pair of high school boys.
Beside him, Harumi sighed and muttered something about it being fun while it lasted as she climbed the steps and approached the struggling pair. She bent down and, without hesitation, grabbed both girls by the ear.
"I think that's quite enough, don't you?" she asked as she pulled amidst the screams of pain and protest.
Caught as they were, the two sisters could only follow inertia and sprang apart.
"Quite enough," Harumi repeated, giving both an extra tug as they got to their feet. "Don't you agree?"
Wincing, the two sisters agreed: quite enough.
Harumi smiled, but did not release them. "Don't you have something else to say?" she asked, arching an eyebrow in warning.
A moment of silence passed as Eri and Fujiko looked at their sister, and then at each other. Then they extended hands to each other and shook on it.
"Truce," Fujiko said.
"Truce."
"You're not a crazy control freak."
"And you're not unladylike."
"Isn't that so much more pleasant?" Harumi asked, punctuating the question by releasing their ears.
The two girls staggered away from one another as they came upright. When Fujiko looked over her shoulder, she caught sight of Keitaro and scowled.
"What is he doing here?" she demanded of Harumi. "Bad enough you had to do that, but you had to let him watch too?"
Harumi shrugged. "Is it my fault that you could be heard from the other side of the compound?"
"Never mind." Fujiko turned to face Keitaro. "I've been wanting a little talk with you, landlord."
Fear like ice, filled Keitaro's belly. "About what?" he asked, trying not to turn tail and run.
Fujiko gave a derisive laugh. "About? About our sister, little man."
Like a deer in headlights, Keitaro stared straight ahead. He could neither fight nor flee, so his body settled into a slow torpor and prayed that the end would be quick and painless. "What can I tell you?"
"Why is she hiding in Tokyo when her place is here? Why, after abjuring the society of men for all this time is she suddenly content to live with one rather than her own sisters?"
Wait, this was about her living with him? The idea was so absurd that he did the stupidest thing he could do and burst out laughing. The adrenaline coursing through his veins only made him giddier, and he bent over at the waist heedless of Fujiko's deepening scowl or her move to retrieve her sword. It was too hilarious for words. Motoko content to live with him?
"For your information," he said, straightening up, "your sister's level of regard for me is somewhere south of dryer lint. Content to live with me? She can't stand me or the fact that I'm a man. I've lost count of the number of times she's tried to drive me from the house." Admittedly those were mostly in the past, but still. He bent over again and prepared to meet death with a laugh. Hopefully, Harumi would gather his bones for him.
He felt her bokken tap him on the shoulder. "Stand up, little man."
"Fuji," Harumi said in warning.
Fujiko scoff. "I'm not going to hurt him." Then she murmured something about fish in a barrel.
Keitaro straightened up and looked at the girl in askance. Fujiko, for the first time, looked unsure.
"Do something for me," she said, rubbing her arm. "Tell me how she is."
Keitaro found all eyes on him, and stammered weak disclaimers as he wilted under their stares; but it became apparent that none of them would be put off, he gave in.
He began to count on his fingers, more from nervousness than anything. He doubted if what he knew about Motoko would be enough to use up one hand.
"She studies hard, and trains almost nonstop."
Eri nodded, settling down on the floor. As the other girls sat down, he took that as his cue to do the same.
"Let's see." He thought back to the first day that they met. "She has a group of girls who are devoted to her. They follow her around everywhere."
Fujiko laughed. "Just like Satomi."
"She's very…" He searched for the right word. "Loyal to the people she lives with." Fujiko's expression darkened, and he realised how that sounded. "What I mean is she's very protective of the other girls staying at the house. She goes overboard and puts on this Toshiro Mifune act all the time" – Harumi stifled a giggle – "but I know she's only doing it because she considers the younger ones her responsibility."
"It sounds," Eri said, with a knowing look, "as if you like her."
The revelation knocked Keitaro over, and he said nothing for a time until the truth of the matter forced him to nod. "I guess so. I suppose I admire her devotion to what's right, even if that puts me on the sharp end of her sword." He scratched the back of his neck. "Not that she's done much of that lately, thank God."
"She's always been that way," Eri replied, poking Fujiko in the ribs. "Remember that time a boy in town chased a cat up a tree and she chased him for five blocks before going back to rescue the cat?"
Keitaro watched the others smile at the memory and listened as they lapsed into reminiscence. One after another, the girls told stories of their sister; not the untrusting granite-resolved vigilante that Keitaro had come to know, but a girl who seemed more and more a stranger to Keitaro as they went on. He had never met the girl who rescued kittens from trees, who had carried Satomi for three hours on her back during a wilderness hike, or, when Fujiko had broken her arm during a training exercise, had sat with her sister and tried to soothe her agony while they waited for the ambulance. It was like meeting someone for the first time.
No, he corrected himself as he recalled the Motoko who had given him a blanket at Christmas and chocolates on Valentines Day, who had chanted blessings for him during his practice exam. Maybe he had met the girl they described.
They were still talking in a circle when Sachiko arrived at the dojo.
"So here you all are," Sachiko said with a smile. She looked at Eri and Fujiko, still wearing their training gi and hakama. "Have you settled your accounts for the time being?"
Both girls nodded, staring at the floor.
"So we're to have peace in our time after all," a man's voice called.
Keitaro and the girls looked past Sachiko to see a tall man bearing Satomi on his shoulders. He wore a casual suit with no tie and glasses with thin black frames. His short, well-styled hair was pepper with traces of salt dashed throughout and his grin looked so natural he looked as if he'd been born with it. He bent down to let Satomi off his shoulders and straightened up to beam his smile around the room.
"How are my girls?"
It was astonishing to see how quickly the girls got to their feet. It seemed one moment that they were sitting in a circle, and the next they were in a row, bowing in unison.
"Welcome, Uncle."
He greeted each girl in turn with a nod and smile and looked past them to regard Keitaro with curiosity. "Sachiko told me that we had a guest. Dr. Shiro Kamina, at your service."
Keitaro gave a small bow and introduced himself as Motoko's landlord. Shiro smiled and thanked him for his hard work, which put Keitaro on the cusp of an embarrassed denial when he was saved from it by Sachiko.
"I fear I've been a neglectful host."
Keitaro dismissed this with a wave of his hand.
"I'm afraid we haven't had much time to speak since lunch, Mr. Urashima, but I do hope you'll stay. I have much to discuss with Mr. Kamina. I'm sure you and the girls can keep each other well entertained; but I do hope you'll stay a while longer that we may talk."
Satomi took up the cause and stood flush against him as she gazed up at him with those damned cute eyes of hers. "Yes, Big Brother, please stay?"
Damn it all, Shinobu could take lessons from her.
"It seems that I'm staying."
With that matter settled, Keitaro followed the pack as they made their way out of the dojo, with Fujiko and Eri promising to help Dr. Kamina carry his bags. Keitaro wondered to himself as he watched Fujiko take pride of place beside her guest, opposite her mother. The hard glint of her brown eyes dissolved to sweet caramel and her commanding voice turned as warm and smooth as melted butter.
"You see it too, Mr. Urashima?" Harumi asked, sidling up to him. "Aside from our father, he's the only man to ever get that smile. Would you have thought her capable of it a moment ago?"
Keitaro blinked as he heard Fujiko laugh at something Kamina said. "I guess not. You don't seem surprised."
Harumi shook her head. "Fujiko barks a great deal, but her softer side is apparent to anyone who knows what to look for. Like her fighting style."
"Come again?"
"Shinmei is more than just a fighting style, it becomes us, a part of our personality; but it also moulds and adjusts itself to us."
"You make it sound like a living thing."
Harumi thought about this. "In a way, I suppose. The point is that each fighter's style, how she fights, when she fights, are as individual as her fingerprints."
The idea surprised Keitaro. Up until today, he had never seen a Shinmei warrior other than Motoko. "And you can tell something else about her from her fighting style?"
Harumi smiled, pleased he was following her. "Yes, Fujiko's style is aggressive, meant to deal with opponents quickly and intimidate onlookers; but it only comes out when she feels she is fighting against wrongdoing, or settling a matter of honour with her favourite sparring partner" – she pointed to Eri – "But underneath the bluster, there is an unwillingness to go all out and inflict the maximum amount of damage. Her moves are designed to disable an opponent quickly, rather than maim or inflict pain. She has compassion for others, even if she shows little forgiveness to wrongdoers." She brushed off her sleeve. "Woman and fighter, it's a complicated symbiosis, but we all seek to balance it. Motoko is the same way. After today, I'm sure you will struggle to reconcile the warrior who punishes your mistakes with the girl who rescues cats from trees; but never forget that they are the same person, just as Fujiko is someone who can mistrust men in general, and adore Uncle Shiro at the same time."
Keitaro sighed. It was all a little complex for him, even if it did sound true.
"What about you?"
"Pardon?"
"What's your fighting style?"
Something impish appeared in her eyes, and he knew he'd asked exactly the wrong thing.
"You should never ask a girl to give away her secrets, Mr. Urashima. I guess I prefer to have the fighting over with as quickly as possible." She leaned close to him until her lips were brushing his ear. "In your case, I'd be gentle. Maybe give you one last kiss before I slipped the dagger between your ribs."
He gurgled. She laughed.
"What are you talking about?" Satomi asked, coming up to take Keitaro's hand.
Keitaro was beyond speech, but Harumi looked down at her little sister and patted her shoulder.
"Nothing in particular. See you later, Mr. Urashima." With that, she went on ahead, only looking back to flash him a smirk so familiar that he was tempted to check under her kimono for a fox tail.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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May/December