Sweet Dreams

I don’t own Love Hina or its characters. I do, in fact, own myself, who might just pop in and ruin the story for you. I also own the idea that a girl would (literally) kill for a man like Keitaro or myself. So, without further whatever, I present...

Sweet Dreams
Ch 1. Shinobu, Fearful One

Shinobu lay awake staring at her ceiling. She couldn’t quite fall asleep, so to pass the time she just put her hands behind her head and gazed glassy-eyed at nothing in particular. Her short, blue hair was strewn about over her face and pillow. Every so often, the breeze from her open window would mess it up and she would have to blow or wipe it out of her eyes and mouth and nose. From a view outside of her bed, you would see her bare shoulders, sporting a finely sharp tan line. You see, on this hot, 100+ degree summer day, the tenants found that the best way to relieve the stress of heat was to wear as little as possible. This resulted in a few too much blood out of Keitaro’s nose and a few too many kicks to the balls by pissed-off tenants. At night, however, in the privacy of the inn, everyone found it convenient to sleep in the nude. To justify this to the overprotective Naru, everyone made the excuse of taking advantage of the extra sun to dry every bit of laundry in the house. Although she didn’t want anyone getting any strange, perverted ideas about her, Shinobu was beaten by the sweltering heat and buckled under the pressure of her peers and that God-forsaken sun. There she lay, naked as the day she was born. And the funny thing was, she liked it.

Sleeping was a whole different matter. In the evening, it was Kaolla’s turn to make the dessert. In her hyper giddiness, she slammed her arm into her favorite bowl of pure, white sugar. The bowl then lolled on the counter and eventually fell into Kaolla’s chocolate mousse. Even then, she froze the mousse and served it to the tenants after they ate. The dessert fiasco went unnoticed until it was too late and everyone had already finished. Nobody would have ever known if Kaolla hadn’t walked into the kitchen and found her sugar bowl bone dry. With her memory jarred, she then finally decided to tell everyone precisely how badly she fucked up their meals. Shinobu wasn’t at fault, therefore she wasn’t blamed by the house guests for their chronic vomiting and Kaolla’s suspicious calmness. Still she was too hopped up on sugar to even close her eyes. Although, come to think of it, it wasn’t just the sugar that kept Shinobu up. With her free thinking time, she ran into a train of thoughts that ran on.

One person stood out in her mind, though, refusing to let her shut her eyes: Keitaro. She fruitlessly tried to shake him out of her mind and go to sleep, but his memory kept her eyes open. She could see him with his charming smile, always telling her “If you believe, you can do anything”. She could see his thick, square glasses and neatly parted hair. Every time she thought of something, the train of thought made a b-line toward that image. His face, his voice, his memory, kept her awake all night. ...Or maybe it was the sugar. Whatever it was, it righteously bothered her so. For hours on end, she had tossed and turned, trying to find a position comfortable for her aching leg. After a while, she found the comfy spot and tried to close her eyes, to no avail.

“My leg hurts so bad,” she said to herself as she stared into space. “I heard that’s what happens when you combine too much sugar, no sleep, and a crazy hot summer night. Parts of your body start to hurt for no apparent reason. Who am I talking to? Nobody? Am I going crazy? No, I just can’t sleep well. I wish I could just go to sleep. I wonder if anyone else is asleep. Is Naru up? Is Keitaro up? I wish Keitaro were up. If Keitaro was here...”

Shinobu’s mind wandered into a fantasy she had during a curiously homoerotic episode of her life. Mmm, Kaolla tastes good... In this fantasy, she walked with Keitaro down the beach, alongside the water. Keitaro had his pants legs rolled up to keep them from getting wet in the sea. Other than that, he wore a plain blue shirt with a collar. Nothing fancy, it’s only a fantasy. Shinobu herself was wearing a pretty blue dress cut at her knees. Under it was an ordinary pair of white cotton panties. They were completely ordinary. Or were they...? Yes, they were. For no reason at all, she wasn’t wearing a bra. After all, she was only in Jr. High. Her dress flapped in the fairly strong breeze, forcing her to make a wild attempt at keeping her decency. You’ll see how well that works. As usual, she was practically shaking with nervousness.

Keitaro seemed too calm to be real, for he would usually be hiding in a corner, fearing the savage beating of a very special lady in his mind. But today, he seemed as if there was nothing in the world to bother him; it was almost unreal. But of course he wasn’t real, just Shinobu’s fantasy. And in this fantasy, he couldn’t be swayed from her side. As they walked, he had his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his body. They would occasionally pause to bend over and see the pretty seashells that washed up on the shore. They almost seemed too pretty to be real (again, not real at all). But suddenly, for no visible reason at all, a particularly large wave rose up out of the water and knocked Shinobu over, soaking her clothes right through to her skin. Keitaro, without missing a beat, whipped right around and caught her dripping in his arms.

“You all right, Shinobu?” he asked calmly, looking deep into her eyes through his thick glasses. His eyes still had that friendly glow that they always had.

“Thank you...Keitaro, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She started to shake partly from the shiveringly cold water and partly from utter embarrassment. She was fully aware that her clothes stuck firmly to her skin, successfully defining the nooks and crannies of her body and making it very possible to see her naked breasts through the thin, flimsy fabric.

“It’s alright, Shinobu, just try to relax.” Keitaro gently set her down on the sand, put his hand on her soft cheek, and leaned close to her. He started to chuckle a little to himself. Shinobu broke out in nervous laughter. She was still shaky, for a strong wind blew by, not only making her wet clothes freezing cold, but also making her very visible nipples stand on end. Still, Keitaro didn’t get even so much as a nosebleed. He just held her in his arms, laying her softly on the beach. After they stayed in that erotic position for a couple minutes, everything went hazy.

Keitaro moved his hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. His body pressed up against her wet clothes, making her shirt stick tightly to her very petite breasts. She was absolutely sure that he could feel the tender stiffness of her nipples up against his soft body.

As he pressed his body on her, she could feel his other hand caress her leg, moving up to her thigh. His hand slowly moved higher and higher, taking her dress up with it. She could feel his fingers slip under her pretty much invisible panties. You wouldn’t be able to tell due to the already wet state of her clothes, but Shinobu felt a warm, moist sensation around her untouched vagina. She knew that she wanted him, and wanted him badly. She could feel his warm breath on her face as he moved closer and closer. She knew that she would finally be able to kiss Keitaro uninterrupted... He paused, looked up, and a look of pants-shitting panic swept over his face.

Out of the clear blue sky, a powerful right foot swung into the scene and landed an immaculate punt on the underside of Keitaro’s chin. Shinobu cocked her head backwards and saw Naru in a whole new dimension of pissed off that only a select few people were capable of being in. This was normal for her, unfortunately for Keitaro, who landed with an unreal explosion about fifty meters away. He jumped up on his feet, cursed loudly, and then sprinted off the beach like he’d just been depantsed by a horny Spanish bull.

“That’s right, run for your life you fucking pedifile!!!” screamed Naru.

Shinobu climbed up onto her feet with her head hanging low. She started to cry. “Why would you do something like that, Naru?”

“But...I was just looking out for you, Shinobu...” muttered Naru, who was, at this point, confused out of her mind. There was no reason for her to be crying. Besides, Naru was just looking out for her.

The drenched little girl looked up with an expression of inhuman rage. Her large, doll-like eyes danced like a bonfire. “Well DON’T!!!” She screamed. Shinobu picked up a large conch out of the sand and pulled her arm back. With all the force in her body and mind, she swung her arm around and shattered the spiky conch over the side of her friend’s head. Naru immediately blacked out and hit the beach with a dull thump. A gaping hole was opened in her temple where the spike of the conch had pierced her head. Blood pooled around her head, getting soaked into the sand and washed with the waves. More blood stained Shinobu’s already soaked blue dress. Even her face was smeared with blood that splashed from the blow to Naru’s head. Naru herself was unmoving and, pardon the play on words, utterly breathless. Her face was plastered with the same pants-shitting panic she gave to Keitaro the minute before. Pieces of the conch were strewn about her head, in her hair, and in the pool of thick, red blood. My friends, she was a very dead girl. Gawking at what she’d done, Shinobu started to bawl, tears streaking down every inch of her face. She was absolutely horrified that she would do something so ridiculous, and just because of Keitaro. Overwhelmed with sorrow, rage, self-loathing, and complete horror, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Shinobu darted out of her sleep, which had come to her at the least-expected moment. It was about somewhere between the big wave and Naru’s entrance. Her leg still hurt and she was drenched in sweat. She sat up quickly to look around the room, panic-stricken and already nervous and edgy as she was. She scampered onto the floor, about two inches from the top of her bed. Kicking the sheets off of her, she got up and paced nervously around her bed. Looking down, she realized something.

\"Oh, that’s right, laundry day...\" she thought to herself. As she was pacing, she never fully grasped the fact that she was fully naked and soaked with sweat. Her nude body gleamed and shimmered as the moonlight danced on her wet skin. An adventurous trickle of moisture started from her temple and traveled under her jawbone, down her neck, over her erect nipple, down her ribs, over her hip, around to her sweat-soaked clit, and dripped onto the floor. It finally hit her that she was totally exposed to anyone who just coincidentally happened to peer in her room at that moment.

With an even more panicked tremble, she ran to her sheets and curled up in them, shaking like a leaf in the breeze. Although it was in the middle of the night, her room was locked, and everyone was asleep, she still felt unsafe about those perverted peering eyes. “Oh my good God...” she said to herself, with an absolutely terrified gasp for air. When she regained sense of where and when she was, she lay back down on her bed and reflected upon her dream. She stared glassy-eyed at nothing in particular. “There’s too much violence in this house,” she whispered to herself as she prepared her mind for the long, long sleep-deprived night ahead.