Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 5

“Hey, wake up, Keitaro,” came the voice of Haruka, accompanying a gentle shaking. Slowly, Keitaro opened his eyes. Sitting up straighter in his seat, he looked out the window as the large Boeing descended toward the runway. Straightening his glasses, Keitaro checked his seatbelt as his cousin did the same beside him. The flight attendant was making her rounds, insuring that everyone was belted in for the landing.

 

“How long was I asleep, Haruka?” wondered Keitaro. Haruka shrugged.

 

“Four hours,” she said. “Seta supposed to be meeting us or what?” she asked, dismissing the topic.

 

“So he said, but you know how things tend to turn out,” Keitaro said.

 

“Yeah,” said Haruka drolly. Keitaro looked over at his cousin. Used to seeing her in slacks, top and the Hinata Tea Shop apron, he found it somewhat odd to see her in cargo shorts, boots and a tight cotton tee-shirt that left her stomach bare when she raised her arms. A pair of sunglasses rested on top of her hair, which was held back in a short ponytail by a scrap of cloth. “Still got your passport?” she asked him. Keitaro nodded, patting his pocket.

 

“Yeah, still got it,” he confirmed, feeling the plane twitch as it came down on the runway. A half hour later, the two met up just outside customs. With only the packs they had carried aboard and plenty of stamps in their passports, the two had not had any trouble clearing customs.

 

Heading down the concourse of the relatively-small airport, they found the terminal for the small charter planes. Scanning the single desk that served all four of the companies that offered short-range, non-carrier flights in the islands, they saw no sign of Seta. “Figures,” snorted Haruka. Moving to the desk, she slapped her hand on the wood a time or two, drawing the attention of the dozing attendant.

 

“Can I help you?” asked the man.

 

“There's supposed to be a flight to Pararakelse Island booked. Three passengers?” she asked. The man checked a spiral notebook with hand-written schedules in it.

 

“Three for Para? No, don't see any,” he said, frowning. Haruka's lips thinned.

 

“Why am I not surprised?” she asked. “Ok, fine, I need two seats on the first flight to Pararakelse Island. How long and how much?” asked the older Urashima.

 

More page-flipping preceded the reply. “I can get you out there this evening, if you don't mind an older plane,” he said. Haruka glanced at the watch on her wrist. It was early afternoon. “Nothing sooner?” asked the woman.

 

“Our regular plane didn't arrive on time,” shrugged the man. “Not many go to or from Para, you know,” he offered. Haruka sighed.

 

“If that's the soonest you have, then fine. How much?” she asked.

 

“Five hundred US for two seats,” said the man. Without comment, Haruka slipped out some bills.

 

“Departure time?” she asked him.

 

“Oh, probably about seven this evening,” shrugged the man. Haruka nodded.

 

“Fine,” she said, starting to turn away, “we're the Urashima party, by the way,” she said. “If you accidentally leave without us, you will be drinking your meals for the next year,” she said. “Come on, Keitaro,” she said, “let's get some lunch.”

 

The older cousin led the younger out of the airport, hailing one of the relatively-few taxis. After getting some recommendations for a good place to eat, the pair settled in, enjoying a slow, light meal. With a flight time of six hours to Pararakelse Island in a prop-driven plane before them, the two decided they better stretch their legs. Wandering through the town eventually fetched them up near the ocean. Walking along the worn foot-path in the salt grass and sea oats that topped the shallow, short sand beach, the pair waited out the hours.

 

“Um, Haruka?” asked Keitaro.

 

“Yeah, what?” replied the woman.

 

“Sorry to drag you into this,” he said. Haruka smiled at him.

 

“Nah, no need to apologize,” said the woman. “Granny wanted me along, and given how your little announcement went over, I'd say that you might need some help if the girls come after you like they always have before,” smiled the cousin. “Besides, it's nice to travel again,” she said.

 

“That's right, you used to travel with Seta and Sarah's mom, didn't you?” recalled Keitaro. Haruka nodded, her eyes hooded.

 

“Yeah, back in college,” she said.

 

“You must have seen a lot of interesting places, and had a lot of adventures,” Keitaro said. “Why don't you ever talk about it?” wondered the young man. Haruka shrugged.

 

“Just don't feel like it,” she said. That time is a lot like ash in my mouth, she thought.

 

“Are you looking forward to seeing Seta again?” wondered Keitaro. Haruka shook her head.

 

“No,” said the woman quietly. I have finally made the decision to put him behind me for good, she thought. “While we're here, I'm going to be sticking close to you, Keitaro,” she said.

 

“You are? Why?” wondered Keitaro. Haruka shook her head.

 

“I just am, ok?”

 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Keitaro agreed, sensing that Haruka didn't want to talk about reasons right then. Minutes passed. “I do want to see Nyamo again,” Keitaro said, smiling. Haruka glanced at him, grinning.

 

“Don't you have enough girls after you already, stud?” she teased him. Keitaro blinked.

 

“It's not like that, Haruka!” he protested. “She's just a friend! And she's too young!” he added.

 

“She's about Shinobu's age, isn't she?” asked Haruka innocently. “I'd say that Shinobu isn't too young, wouldn't you agree?” Keitaro didn't answer. Since her little outburst the evening before, he had been seeing her differently; it kind of unsettled him to think of her as he had always thought of the older girls.

 

He and Haruka had caught the red-eye out of Japan, and even though he had awaken at just before four a.m., Shinobu had been up, serving him and Haruka coffee and some light snacks before they left. Also putting in appearances to wish him a safe and speedy trip had been the Aoyama sisters, Kanako, Mutsumi, Granny Hina and the always-too-energetic Kaolla. Naru had not shown up, nor had Kitsune, though it was likely that both were awake. Kitsune had been tasked with keeping Naru more or less under control.

 

Before he and Haruka had taken off for the airport, he had asked Tsuruko and Motoko to do what they could to keep the peace in the house, since he didn't want to come back to a Hinata that looked like an air strike had been laid on it. Tsuruko and Motoko had assured him that they would protect the property and keep peace in the house. Kanako had been told not to make trouble, which - given her reaction - had been her plan.

 

During the ten hour flight to the closest major airport to the island, he had found himself passing time by reading, reviewing his site notes for the ruins, playing cards with Haruka, and sleeping. For her part, Haruka had read, played cards, and brooded. Even so, Keitaro found that he liked having Haruka along with him. Her voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Hey, Keitaro?” she asked him.

 

“Hmm?” he hummed.

 

“Do you remember when we were kids, summers at the Hinata?” she asked him. Keitaro sort-of recalled them.

 

“Kind of, Haruka,” he said. “What about them?” he asked her.

 

“Um, well, nothing really,” said Haruka, changing her mind at the last second. “It was where you met Mutsumi and Naru, that's all.” Haruka smiled nostalgically. “Hard to believe that she used to be somewhat frail and timid, isn't it?” she asked.

 

“Whatever Granny did worked,” Keitaro admitted. She can orbit me like it's nothing, and timid is not a word that anyone would associate with her now! “Hey,” he realized, “does that mean that the whole time, you know who the promise girl was?” he wondered. Haruka sent him a look.

 

“Of course I knew,” she said patiently. “As did Mutsumi. You and Naru seemed to be the ones who didn't remember,” she said. Sort of makes sense, though, she thought.

 

“How were…” Keitaro stopped, then went on, “how did we get along? Me and Mutsumi and Naru and you, I mean?” Haruka frowned.

 

“Pretty good,” she said. “Mutsumi was the one that was always pulling Naru into whatever you and she were doing,” recalled Haruka. “You and Naru followed her lead pretty much all the time,” smiled Haruka.

 

“Was she always so affectionate with us?” wondered Keitaro. Haruka nodded.

 

“Yes, she's the same now as then,” the cousin said. “Even when Kanako entered the picture, she remained the same.”

 

“Kanako and I…” Keitaro frowned, “she said that we made a promise, and I think I remember making a promise with her, but I'm not sure,” he said. Haruka bit her lip.

 

“Keitaro,” said Haruka slowly, “how do you feel about Kanako?” she asked him.

 

“Well, I love her, of course,” he said immediately. Haruka turned away from him, looking out over the ocean.

 

“Like you love me?” she asked. Keitaro nodded.

 

“Yeah,” he said. Haruka didn't move. “Haruka, something wrong?” he asked her.

 

“No, Keitaro, nothing's wrong,” came the soft reply. “Let's start heading back, ok?” she said, raising her hand to her face for a moment before turning to face him. Keitaro gave her a concerned look, but - not seeing anything amiss in her expression - turned toward the edges of the small town. Walking along the trial, he absently offered his hand to Haruka to help steady her as the footing was unpredictable. Haruka didn't need his help, but took his offered hand anyway.

 

-

 

Granny Hina sat back in the seat on the Nozumi run to Kyoto, pushing the bento box away from her. “Not nearly as good as Shinobu-chan's cooking,” she dismissed the pre-packaged meal.

 

“Yes, it is rather bland,” agreed the woman opposite her in the seats. “Shinobu-chan is truly gifted in the kitchen.”

 

“Feeling pressured?” grinned Hina.

 

“In truth, yes,” admitted the woman. “How about you?” she asked the third member of their little group.

 

“No, not really,” shrugged the third member. “I'm not as good at housework as Shinobu-chan, but I get by,” came the sunny reply. A silent head-bow conceded the accuracy of the remark. Watching the terrain blur by as the express line between Tokyo and Kyoto ran at full speed, the woman sitting next to Hina changed topics. “I can't wait to see your family home, Tsuruko.”

 

“Yes, it has been a long time since one of my family visited your family in their home,” added Hina playfully.

 

“I must once more ask if you are sure that this is the right thing to do, Hina-sama,” Tsuruko asked. “I - all we Aoyama - will do as best we can, but I am sure you realize that there are those among our family that will be uneasy at you entering the family home; given our history,” Tsuruko said.

 

“Uneasy enough to attack me?” asked Hina, a smile on her lips.

 

“None of our family will draw steel against you while you are a guest in our home, Hina-sama,” Tsuruko immediately replied. “But I am not so sure that there will not be unpleasant things said.”

 

“A little barking is good for the soul,” dismissed Hina. “Besides, if we are to honor Keitaro's decision, some compromises are going to be necessary, aren't they?” she asked the tall warrior.

 

“I'm surprised that Kei-kun chose to put his fate in our hands,” spoke up Mutsumi.

 

“Surprised, but hardly upset,” noted Tsuruko. Mutsumi hummed. “What is it that you intend, Mutsumi?” asked Tsuruko.

 

“That depends on your family,” said Mutsumi, “and how much pride they can swallow in order to both fulfill the mandate and to break the curses,” said the Okinawan.

 

“You have told them of the survival of the Turtle clan, haven't you?” interjected Hina. Tsuruko glanced out the window.

 

“I…have not had opportunity to give them all the pertinent details, Hina-sama,” she said. Slowly, a wide smile spread over Hina's wrinkled face.

 

“Woohoo! We're going to have a grand old time in the old capital!” she hooted. “I expect this will be as much fun as when Yayoi first approached me in Hinata,” she cackled.

 

“Hina-sama,” Tsuruko said, perking up at the mention of her grandmother's name, “will you tell me of that time? I have been told that grandma Yayoi managed to make an informal peace between our families, but she never told us how she managed the peace that allowed us to live within your domains without fear of our past history stirring violence.”

 

“She never told you?” wondered Hina. “I had thought she would brag of her accomplishment, but perhaps she was more mature than I thought at the time,” she thought out loud. “Well, it's a tired and worn story, but if you want to hear about it, I suppose I could tell you while we ride to Kyoto,” she said. Glancing at the curvy woman next to her, she asked if Mutsumi would be interested in hearing the tale.

 

“Yes, it sounds interesting,” agreed Mutsumi. Hina settled back in the seat.

 

“It was back in the early thirties,” she said, smiling, “I was but a young girl, barely even Shinobu's age, hot-headed and rebellious - not unlike Naru, in fact - when I first encountered Yayoi. I was on a trip to one of our enclaves near Yokohama, and I happened to fall in with a woman a few years older than me, wearing a gi and hakama, armed with a sword. She said she was out to slay a demon that had been reported in a small town near Yokohama…” Hina hadn't finished the tale two minutes before the train stopped at the station.

 

Exiting the train station, Tsuruko pulled out her cell phone, but Hina put her hand on the swordswoman's hand. Shaking her head, she pointed toward the street. Nodding, she followed Hina's lead. The three hailed a taxi, Hina telling the driver to let them out at the foot of the small hill that the Aoyama ancestral estate sat on. From there, the three walked up to the gate to the estate. Tsuruko paused at the gate, turning to look at Hina. “It has been nearly six hundred years, Hina-sama,” said the tall woman, “since an elder of the Urashima passed this gate.”

 

“Yes,” agreed Hina.

 

“Please allow me to announce you and Otohime-san to the elders,” asked Tsuruko. “It will be safer that way,” she murmured.

 

“Spoilsport,” grinned Hina. “Yayoi walked into the courtyard of the Hinata Inn and declared herself, yet you ask that I wait while you warn the elders? That's no fun,” she said. “Let's just go on in and see what we see.” Tsuruko bit back a reply.

 

“As you will, Hina-sama,” said the woman, shifting her sword in her hand as she grasped the ring to open the gate. Hina touched her hand once more.

 

“You offer me safe entry, Tsuruko?” asked the old woman, her playful tone gone. Tsuruko nodded.

 

“I promise your safety within our home,” she said formally. Hopefully, this won't result in a fight, she mentally crossed her fingers. But even if it does, there is little else to be done, if we are to free ourselves of our past mistakes, she thought soberly. Turning the ring, she pushed the gate open, a small bell sounding. Hina and Mutsumi followed the woman into the estate.

 

The gate had barely closed behind the three when a young man, sword in hand, came around the corner of the inner estate wall. “Who enters…” he began, only to see Tsuruko standing before him, her sword held close. “Forgive me, Tsuruko-sama,” he bowed to her. “Welcome home,” he said, straightening.

 

“I am here on business,” said Tsuruko curtly. “Tell the elders we must speak immediately,” she instructed him. “I have with me the elder of the Urashima, Hina Urashima-sama and…another of equal rank,” said the elder sister.

 

“Immediately, sensei-sama,” the young man turned and ran off. Tsuruko glanced at Hina. Seeing the smile on the old woman's face, she got the feeling that Hina was enjoying herself. Surely she understands what could happen here, considered Tsuruko. Once more, she found herself wondering just how skilled the old woman really was. Is it possible that she is advanced enough in the arts of the Urashima that she does not consider the odds insurmountable? worried Tsuruko. Her worry was small, however, as Hina did not strike her as the careless or reckless type, her love of fun and adventure not withstanding.

 

“Lead on, Tsuruko-chan,” Hina said, grinning up at the tall woman. Pushing her thoughts aside, Tsuruko did as she was asked, leading Mutsumi and Hina deeper into the estate. In the inner walls of the estate, she spotted several of the Shinmei-ryu adepts hurrying from the dojo to the halls of the main house, each taking up a position. She saw that they carried their swords. She also knew every last adept personally. Unconsciously, she found herself weighing the odds and calculating her moves.

 

“Tsuruko,” came the voice of her great-uncle, “I am told you have brought the elder of the Urashima with you,” he said.

 

“That she has,” piped up Hina, moving in front of Tsuruko. “Been a while, hasn't it?” she asked.

 

“Since Yayoi's passing, Hina,” said the man tightly. Hina smiled.

 

“I should probably thank you for your consideration, though I doubt that you feel any different now than you did on that day,” said Hina. The old man inclined his head.

 

“I did only as Yayoi would have wanted me to, Hina,” said the man. Hina snickered.

 

“And how is the leg?” she asked. He grimaced slightly.

 

“It is well,” he said tightly. “We will speak inside,” he said, gesturing. The three followed him into the inner room of the Aoyama home. Seeing Mutsumi for the first time, the elder of the Aoyama frowned. “Who is this?” he asked.

 

“This is Mutsumi, of the Otohime family,” said Hina.

 

“She can wait while we speak. Please feel free to rest in our home or enjoy the garden, Mutsumi-chan,” he said.

 

“She is with me,” said Hina blandly. “And she will be joining us for our chat,” added the old woman. Tsuruko got the feeling that Hina was deliberately tweaking her great-uncle's nose over some inside incident from decades ago. He stared at Hina for a long moment.

 

“If you insist,” he said, opening the door to the inner-most room in the Aoyama home. Hina led her two companions into the room. Tsuruko took a spot just behind and to the side of Hina, while Mutsumi settled next to Hina. With a final check to make sure the guards were posted once more and that none of the clan not of the family by blood or marriage were in the room, the elder closed the door.

 

“There can be only reason for you to come here, Hina,” said the man. “But before we discuss that, why is the Otohime woman here?” he asked.

 

“She is core to the issue,” said Hina mysteriously.

 

“I was told that it was a Narusegawa woman your grandson was in a relationship with,” countered the old man suspiciously. Hina smiled.

 

“That is true, though you know only the smallest of parts of that,” said Hina. “Mutsumi is the priestess of the Turtle Clan,” she said casually.

 

“Impossible. The Turtle Clan was put to the sword to the last,” said one of the other elders.

 

“Aoyama swords,” countered Hina, her tone just a little sharp. “But, as with the Imperial messengers, you were overly-confident of your success in killing them. A small faction survived, and have been close allies of the Urashima since that time,” said Hina. “Mutsumi-chan is the current priestess of their clan.” The head elder looked to Tsuruko, who nodded.

 

“It is as Hina-sama says,” she confirmed. The old man studied Mutsumi, who wore her usual sunny smile.

 

“Have you come for revenge, Otohime of the Turtle Clan?” he asked her. Mutsumi kept smiling.

 

“Actually, I have come here to discuss your curse,” she Mutsumi, “and how it might be lifted.”

 

-

 

Haruka gasped as she dragged herself out of the surf. Beside her, Keitaro did likewise, the two pulling their packs with them. “Is this how you usually travel?” asked Haruka, between harsh pants. Too much smoking, and not enough exercise, she thought absently. Granny was right again, she realized. Looking over to see Keitaro panting, but not winded liker her, she vowed that her smoking days were done.

 

“Pretty much,” shrugged Keitaro, checking his pack. “For some reason, it always seems to end up like this,” he said apologetically. “Um, are you ok, Haruka?” he wondered.

 

“Fine,” said Haruka straighten and pulling her own pack to her and checking it. She and Keitaro both used military-style packs. They were heavy sealed material, with water-tight closures and multiple strapping configurations. Plenty of pockets, roomy if one knew how to pack them, and very, very durable. Seeing that her pack was fine, she sucked in a few more breaths before standing. “Where are we in relation to the site?” wondered the elder Urashima.

 

Keitaro looked around. “I think we're about ten klicks short. Fortunately, it is near the beach, so we can hike along the beach until we reach the dried-up river where the edge of the site is located. Um…can you make it?” he wondered. Haruka gave him an annoyed look as she lightly smacked him on the head.

 

“Who do you think you are talking to, kid?” she barked, though a smile tugged at her lips. Standing, she pulled off her tee shirt and wrung the salt water from it. “Still, who would have thought that the plane would crash, then the boat sink?” she asked rhetorically.

 

The pair had found that they were booked on an aged World War Two era PBY Catalina prop job. The pilot looked like a left-over World War Two relic as well. Haruka had not been impressed with the condition of the plane, but after a careful evaluation of the general condition of pilot and plane, had decided to risk it. Climbing aboard, she had found that the co-pilot was younger than Keitaro, there was no flight engineer, and from the trash in the cabin area, it was clear that this flying boat saw a lot of piece-meal hauling contracts.

 

Take off had been a minor adventure, since one of the motors had begun to skip badly. After a few tense moments of switch-throwing and cursing, the motor had throttled back up, stabilized and started droning like a champ. Haruka wasn't reassured by the thin - but consistent - trail of blue-black smoke from the cowling, but as long as it reached Pararakelse Island, it didn't really matter. She had settled back next to Keitaro in the cramped cabin area, amongst the boxes, bags and bundles of cargo the flight was also carrying.

 

It had not made it to their destination. About fifteen miles short, the port engine had suddenly seized. While not good, the Catalina could fly on one engine; it had been designed as a war craft, and losing an engine was a real possibility, so the situation had been anticipated in the design phase. But when the starboard engine started to skip, then sputter, Haruka had secured her pack, made sure she and Keitaro were secured, and awaited developments.

 

The plane had made a steep descent, leveled out just above the large, but gentle, swells then skipped in as the starboard engine burst into flames. Haruka had watched, both fascinated and horrified as the co-pilot wiggled out the observation dome, scampered up the fuselage and attacked the fire with a hand-help fire extinguisher as the plane touched down in the ocean. Against her expectations, he had managed to get the fire out, and the plane sat there, bobbing in the swells like a boat with no sails. The pilot - after a long pull from a bottle of whiskey he kept under the instrument panel - had gotten on the fifty-year old radio, and about three hours later, Haruka had seen lights approach them in the dark pre-dawn.

 

A worn fishing vessel had thrown them a line, and towed them the last twenty miles or so to the only port on the island. Haruka had checked around for alternate transportation, and after finding that the only helicopter on the island was broken and the fishing fleet was gone for the day, had chosen to charter a twenty six foot sail boat that had seen better days. The site was on the far end of the island, and the only other way to reach the site was to brave the desert that was the center of the island. Keitaro had done that, but not by choice.

 

It was supposed to take about sixteen hours to sail to the far end of the island. Well, two hours out of port, Haruka had discovered that the bilge pump had failed. The owner of the boat had wanted to turn back, but Haruka was not going to waste the time. So, she managed to jury-rig the pump with some help from Keitaro. The boat sailed on. Just over half way to their destination, a squall had blown up. While it had only lasted about an hour, it had left their sail torn and the mast bent. While busy with make-do repairs to the sail, Haruka and Keitaro had not noticed that the bilge pump had failed once more, and the boat was taking on water.

 

It was almost night again when Haruka and Keitaro discovered that the pump had failed again. It was hard to miss, really; there was six inches of water in the small cabin. Scrambling around to see if they could salvage things, the two had been informed that he owner of the boat was giving up on the thing by the sounds of the outboard engine in the Zodiac cranking up. They had gotten up on deck just in time to see the man heading back the way they had come. Haruka had been pissed off.

 

Keitaro had been upset as well, though out of concern that something might happen to Haruka. After all, he had never had a trip go right in his entire life. Feverish work and Haruka's cool, calm direction had allowed them to keep the boat going through the night as they closed on their goal. Their speed was barely six knots, but progress was progress, and just after sunrise, Keitaro had announced that he could just make out the faintest shade of the dry river where the far end of the ruins were located. Of course, he and Haruka were standing on the low dome of the cabin area, and water was over their toes. Having moved close to shore, they tossed their bags into the water and dove in, swimming toward shore. Looking back, they had seen the tip of the bent mast slip below the surface.

 

Now, standing on the beach, the sun climbing along with the temperature, Haruka wrung the sea water from her tee shirt. Feeling the breeze on her skin, she realized how much she had missed traveling and adventure. The tea shop is fine, but I have missed this more than I thought, she mused. “Keitaro, we should probably change into dry clothes,” she said. Not getting an answer, she turned to see him staring at her, his mouth open and eyes wide. “What's wrong, Keitaro?” she asked. Is something stuck to me? Am I bleeding from something? she wondered.

 

“H…Haruka!” managed Keitaro. Haruka looked down, not seeing any sign of injury or parasites. It wasn't until she had finished feeling her back for any unseen blood-sucking animals that she realized what was causing Keitaro's discomfort. Heh! Forgot about that, she thought, smiling just a little. She was standing topless in front of Keitaro, her nipples erect from the caress of the wind on her wet skin. Judging from his inability to look away, he likes what he sees, too, Haruka thought, feeling better than she had in a long time.

 

Setting her shirt aside, Haruka unbuttoned her shorts, unzipped them, and stepped out of the baggy cargo shorts, swiftly emptying the pockets of the items stored there before setting the shorts next to the tee shirt. “Well?” she said to Keitaro calmly, “let's get some dry clothes on and get going.”

 

“Uh, o…ok,” Keitaro managed. Haruka skinned off her wet panties wringing water from them as well before. Rummaging in her pack for a moment, she pulled out a somewhat large plastic bottle. Flipping open the bottle, she squeezed out some thick gel.

 

“We should get the salt off first, though,” said the woman swiftly working the gel into her face, working down her neck and chest toward her feet. Glancing at Keitaro, she saw him motionless, staring at her completely-naked form. Looking away, Haruka smiled, her heart rate increasing as color touched her cheeks. “I'm glad I listened to granny,” she murmured.

 

“What?” blinked Keitaro.

 

Damn! Didn't mean to say that out loud! thought Haruka. “Nothing, Keitaro,” she said, crossing her belly and moving toward her thighs. “Do my back for me?” she asked, offering him the bottle; and a smile. Bending over, she took her time working the cream into her thighs, knees and calves. Instead of kneeling, she bent at the hips. What are you doing, Haruka? she asked herself, You know you can't make good on your offer, so why are you teasing him? Don't the girls at the Hinata do that enough? What are you thinking, Haruka? She ignored the voice in her head.

 

A soft gasp escaped her throat when she felt a trembling hand touch her shoulder. Instantly, the hand jerked back. “Sorry!” he cried out. Haruka shook her head, turning to look at him over the crest of her hips.

 

“No, it's fine, Keitaro,” she said. “I was just wool gathering,” she admitted. Slowly, Keitaro reached out and touched her shoulder again. Haruka sighed softly. “That feels good,” she said, still bent at the hips. Keitaro began to work the cream into her skin, starting at the back of her neck and working toward her ass. “You have a really gentle touch, Keitaro,” she murmured as his hands worked over her lower spine.

 

“I do?” wondered Keitaro.

 

“Yeah, you do,” repeated Haruka. Naru is a damned fool for not realizing what she had, thought Haruka. I bet Shinobu knows, though, thought the woman, remembering the look in the smaller girl's eyes. If not for being blood related… she forced herself away from that line of thoughts. Keitaro's hand stopped at the base of her spine. Straightening, Haruka reluctantly accepted the bottle back, swiftly covering her own toned ass cheeks. “Your turn, Keitaro,” she said, smiling.

 

“I'm fine!” said Keitaro, hands over his groin. The tip of Haruka's tongue slipped out from between her lips to hungrily wet her lips.

 

“If you walk long distances in dry clothes with salt water on your skin, you run the risk of rash or sores,” said Haruka. “This lotion will break down the salt crystals and keep you from getting rubbed raw. Now get out of those wet clothes!” she ordered. Keitaro flinched slightly at her tone, but obeyed, turning away from her. Damn, thought Haruka, eyeing her pack. She had dry shorts, a clean tee shirt, and a fresh pair of panties ready, but a devilish impulse made her hold off on dressing. Glancing down, she saw that her nipples were still hard as rocks, and she knew that her vaginal lips were puffy and swollen with her arousal.

 

Seeing Keitaro wringing out his boxers, Haruka all but jumped over to him, turning him to face her. “Let's get you taken care of and get moving,” she said hoarsely. Glancing down, she saw that he was hard as steel, his dick pointed right at her. God, he looks perfect, she thought, a flash of heat radiating out from her sex. Not the largest, or the thickest, but it looks perfect, she thought, her hand shaking just a little as she squirted a little gel onto her hand and began to rub it into his chest.

 

“H…Haruka?” he said, face beet-red.

 

“Oh, here,” she said, offering him the bottle. “Work on your face, and I'll help with the rest,” she said. Almost whimpering, Keitaro did as she ordered. His skin was feeling a little scratchy from the salt water, but that was the last thing on his mind. Feeling Haruka's soft, strong hands eagerly working toward his groin was doing nothing to ease his arousal.

 

Why does it have to be Haruka doing this?! he thought in anguish. Naru hardly ever wants to do more than kiss and have me touch her, and here is Haruka - my cousin! - touching me more than Naru has in the entire time we have been dating! Another thing struck Keitaro. I thought that it felt great to have Naru touch me, but this feels even better! He blinked, realizing what that last thought meant. Looking down, he saw Haruka stroking his hard length. “Guh!” he managed, unable to speak. Haruka glanced up at him, giving him a soft smile but not stopping her steady stroking of his hard length.

 

One hand wrapped around his shaft, another gently fondling his balls, Haruka squatted in front of him, her pussy on fire with need, but her mind fighting her body's desire to cool that fire with the magnificent tool in her hands. Such a nice cock, Haruka thought. Feeling his balls begin to tighten, she leaned forward, his wide tip slipping into her mouth as she pursed her lips behind his glans and began to rub his crown with her tongue. In her hand, she felt his sack tighten, and a moment later, she was gulping as fast as she could as he flooded her mouth with a huge release. Those cock-teasing bitches must have been putting more stress on him than I thought, came an irrelevant thought from a part of her mind with no control over her current actions.

 

“Mm,” she moaned around her mouthful of cock head. As the last of his load slid down her throat to her stomach, she slowly released him, feeling his dick soften gradually. Keitaro was staring blindly at her, dazed. Groping for the bottle - which he had dropped from nerveless fingers earlier - she quickly got a final dob of gel and finished his thighs and calves. By the time she straightened, he was sort of back to normal.

 

“Haruka, I'm sorry…!” be began. With a frown, Haruka put her fingertip on his lips.

 

“No, Keitaro, you have nothing to be sorry about,” said Haruka. And neither do I, she thought defiantly. Looking into his eyes, she pulled him to her, hugging him tightly. “I'm certainly not sorry, and there is no reason for you to be sorry, either, so don't apologize, Keitaro,” she said, feeling his arms slowly close around her. “It felt good, didn't it?” she asked him.

 

“Yeah, really good,” he breathed, face against her throat.

 

“It's supposed to be that way when you are with a person you love,” murmured Haruka. I bet that it wasn't like that with Naru, she left unsaid. “Has it been like that before?” she asked before she could stop herself. Mutely, Keitaro shook his head. “Has she ever done that for you?” wondered Haruka.

 

“No.”

 

“I see,” muttered Haruka. Naru, you need to grow up, she thought resentfully toward the brunette volcano. Minutes passed. Finally, feeling the heat rising faster, Haruka reluctantly eased Keitaro back from her. “We…should be going,” she said soft, turning to her pack and picking up her panties. Stepping into them, she turned her head to peek at Keitaro, who was fishing out some clean boxers. “Hey, Keitaro?” she said softly, slowly fingering her tee shirt, but not putting it on yet.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You know…” she stopped, biting her lip. “No, never mind,” she said more strongly. “Let's get going,” she repeated, tugging her shirt on and stepping into her dry shorts. Moments later, her items were in the pockets of her dry shorts, and the two were walking swiftly along the sand beach. Gradually, Haruka eased over next to Keitaro, taking his hand in her own. Hand in hand, the two covered the distance to outside of the excavation site in what seemed moments.

 

-

 

Kanako was brooding in the manager's room. With her precious `onii-chan' off with Haruka, and Granny Hina having ordered her to administer the inn in his absence was bad enough. But having Keitaro tell her not to cause trouble was the final straw. Kanako was officially feeling irritated. Keitaro hadn't even been gone five minutes before Kanako was in his room.

 

What troubled her most was Keitaro's announcement the night before he left. Just what does he mean by telling us that we all had to agree who he would marry? wondered the girl. Onii-chan is marrying me! Not Narusegawa, not Motoko, not Shinobu - me! Rolling over on Keitaro's futon, she sighed. “But what did he mean?” wondered Kanako.

 

“Problems, meow?” asked Kuro, his nose bumping her neck. “You are brooding, meow,” he noted.

 

“What did Onii-chan mean when he told us that would have to agree who he would marry?” asked Kanako of her cat. The black cat tilted his head.

 

“Who knows, meow,” he replied. “Maybe he wants to avoid fights, meow?” suggested the cat. Kanako considered that.

 

“But, how can we do that?” wondered Kanako. “We all want him,” muttered the girl. Kuro buzzed as he nuzzled her ear.

 

“Do you not all have him now, meow?” wondered the cat, the bell tied to his tail tinkling briefly as the cat slipped easily out of the room. Kanako frowned, sitting up.

 

“Kuro, what…?” she stopped, realizing that her cat was already gone. Kanako stood, a thoughtful look on her face. “I think I will soak for a bit,” she murmured, swiftly stripping off her dark clothes and grabbing a towel. She was surprised to find that it was nearly sundown, the day having passed without notice as she brooded, plotted and planned.

 

Reaching the hot spring, she found Naru, Kitsune and Motoko already there. Naru glared at her, Kitsune gave her an assessing look, and Motoko just watched her for a moment. Slipping into the bath, she ignored the other girls. Soaking in the spring, Kanako found herself daydreaming of herself and Keitaro running the Hinata as an inn, just as he had promised her. When Shinobu called them to dinner, she was still no closer to a solution.

 

-

 

Mei approached her home, pulling the key from her purse as she neared the door. Taking a breath, she opened the door and entered. “I'm home,” she called out before holding her breath, hand on the door knob. Not getting an answer, she swiftly checked the house, finding Naru and he bag gone. Almost sighing in relief, the younger sister set her purse down and moved up the stairs to her room.

 

Reaching her room, she picked up the phone and dialed a number from her notebook. After a few rings, the other party picked up. “Hello? I'm calling for Doctor Takeshi?” she said. Getting a confirmation that she had the right number, she went on. “Sir, my name is Mei Narusegawa. I was given your number by your younger sister, whom I went to school with,” she explained how she had gotten the unlisted number. “I need some advice, and your sister suggested I ask you for a few minutes of your time. Can you help me?” she asked.

 

-

 

Hina sipped some tea, looking out over the inner courtyard of the Aoyama home. Not far from her, Mutsumi was likewise sipping some tea. No one of the Aoyama approached them needlessly, which was not that odd, given the turmoil that they had brought to the centuries-long calm, orderly life of the household. Tsuruko was still talking with the elders of the Aoyama. For the time being, the two were waiting for a decision from the Aoyama.

 

“Mutsumi-chan,” said Hina, setting her cup aside, “what do you think they will decide?”

 

“I think that they will choose to accept our offer,” shrugged Mutsumi. “After all, there is nothing to be gained by stubbornly refusing, is there?”

 

Hina chuckled. “You are not familiar with Aoyama stubbornness,” she said. “It is only matched by Urashima patience,” she added, smiling. Mutsumi smiled as well. “I take it that you are anticipating that they will accept?” she asked. Mutsumi nodded. “So, you have no problem with Tsuruko?” asked Hina. Mutsumi shook her head, smiling easily.

 

“No, not at all,” she said. “I am more worried about Na-chan,” she confided. Hina slowly nodded.

 

“Naru-chan,” she said introspectively, “I admit I am worried about her,” said Hina. Mutsumi offered her another of her easy smiles.

 

“Na-chan will come around,” she said. Hina shook her head.

 

“I wish I shared that optimism, Mutsumi,” she murmured. Changing the topic, she returned to the current issue they faced. “Do you think they can solve the problem before them?” she wondered.

 

“It depends on where Tsuruko's heart truly lies,” shrugged Mutsumi. Minutes passed. “I wish we were at the Hinata,” said Mutsumi idly. “I feel like a dip in the spring,” the Okinawan girl explained.

 

-

 

Haruka sat up, stretching. Taking a deep breath of cool, dry air, she swung her feet over the edge of the cot, reaching for her shorts. Next to her in the canvas tent, Keitaro was stirring. Smiling Haruka stepped over, kneeling next to his cot. “Wake up, Keitaro,” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Time to get going,” she said, seeing his eyes open.

 

“Mm,” he mumbled, fumbling for his glasses. “Moring, Haruka,” he said. Haruka smiled, still kneeling next to his cot.

 

“Morning, Keitaro,” she said. Keitaro sat up, stretching his arms. Haruka straightened up, turning back to her cot. Before putting her shorts on, she straightened her panties, which was all she had slept in. She turned back to face Keitaro as she stepped into her shorts, buttoning them on her slim waist. Sitting on her cot, she banged her boots a time or two before putting on her socks and lacing up her boots.

 

“What time is it?” wondered Keitaro, swinging his own legs over the edge of his cot.

 

“Just before dawn,” said Haruka. “Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes, from the smell of things,” she added, hearing him click the small LED lantern on, filling the dimly-lit tent with stronger light. Haruka straightened up, reaching for her tee shirt as Keitaro sorted out his shorts. “So, we going into the new chamber today?” she asked him.

 

“Yeah,” said Keitaro, adjusting himself in his boxers before zipping his shorts up. Looking at Haruka, he was just in time to see her bare breasts being covered by her tan tee shirt. His dick twitched. “You aren't wearing a bra?” he asked.

 

“Not planning on it,” said Haruka before smiling at him teasingly, “unless you want me to?” she asked him, deliberately wiggling her shoulders so her breasts jiggled slightly behind their thin covering.

 

“No, I was just curious!” Keitaro said hastily. He had been surprised, but happy, that Haruka had insisted that she and he share a tent. Since the incident on the beach, he had been thinking about his cousin a lot, though he was still puzzled by her behavior. Haruka, finished dressing, waited while Keitaro pulled on a shirt, grabbed his stuff and switched off the lantern. Together, they moved out of the tent, tying back the flaps so as the day grew hotter, the breeze would keep the inside cool.

 

Meeting up with their small team of excavators and archeology under-grads, the pair enjoyed a simple, but filling meal of mixed cuisine fare. Seta had managed to misplace himself for the last three days, but no one was worried. He was legendary for such mishaps, and everyone was sure that he would show up sooner or later; probably bleeding from a head wound like normal.

 

Once the group had all finished eating, the work groups moved out to their active sites, and the day began once more. Haruka and Keitaro moved to the newest active site, the one revealed by the small earthquake. The sand that had caved in had been dug back out, and the wall that had tumbled down had been partially cleared to reveal the narrow, crooked passage that led to the new chamber. “Well?” asked Keitaro, glancing at his cousin, “shall we?” he asked.

 

“Lead on, Keitaro,” said Haruka, tucking some gear into her pockets. Leather gloves, some smaller tools, a few bandanas, two flashlights, a few pencil flares, and a canteen of water were tucked away. Keitaro also settled some similar gear before moving forward into the passage. Crawling and wiggling down the cramped passage, the two reached the partially-sealed door that led to the chamber. The members of the excavation team had stopped at the door, so they would be the first in the chamber.

 

Snapping several pictures with one of three cameras he carried, Keitaro examined the door. “Beech wood,” he said, digging at it with a pocket knife. “We have found a lot of this in these ruins, which is strange, because there are no beech trees around here,” he frowned. Haruka made some notes on a small pad.

 

“Bronze hinges and strapping, right?” she said. Keitaro peered at the darkened metal.

 

“Looks like it,” he agreed, getting a closer photo. “This ruin has been dated back to the late bronze age, though it could be older,” he shared with her. “We are pretty sure that it was abandoned during the late Bronze Age,” he clarified. Haruka nodded.

 

“Got it,” she said. Keitaro considered the door.

 

“I think we can remove a couple of these rotted planks and get into the chamber,” he decided. Haruka peered over his shoulder, nearly lying on his back as she did so.

 

“I think you are right,” she said. Together, the two managed to pull the crumbling wood away, passing it back behind them for the two support members to remove and examine. Keitaro was the first to wiggle into the chamber. Haruka was right behind him. Using their flashlights, the two studied the chamber. The far wall had cracked, and sand had sifted down from the corner of the opposite roof and wall. In the center of the room, a stone turtle held a small pool of water between its front flippers.

 

“Turtle cult,” breathed Keitaro. “I knew it!” he exclaimed happily. Haruka nodded.

 

“This looks like an inner sanctum of a holiday temple,” she said, jotting down notes as Keitaro took picture after picture with his cameras.

 

“How do you…?” began Keitaro, only to stop as he figured it out on his own. “Oh, right,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. Mutsumi-chan's family, he thought fleetingly. His thoughts of the sunny, busty Okinawan girl made his dick stir. Haruka smiled back at him.

 

For the next half hour, the two slowly, methodically made their way around the edges of the room, making notes, taking photos and closely examining the walls, floor and ceiling. Eventually, they closed in on the statue. Arrayed before the stone turtle were rows of gifts, seashells, turtle shell jewelry, some worked copper and other such items were ceremoniously arranged before the turtle.

 

“Water offering, maybe?” wondered Keitaro, carefully documenting the items.

 

“Could be, since this is on the borders of a desert,” Haruka shrugged, “but we don't know if this island looked like this in the past, so it is dangerous to jump to conclusions without more research,” cautioned the older Urashima. Keitaro nodded.

 

“I know, Haru,” he said absently, “just thinking out loud; that's all,” he assured her.

 

“I like that,” came Haruka's voice, startlingly close to his ear.

 

“Like what? My thinking out loud?” wondered Keitaro.

 

“No,” said Haruka, “you calling me Haru,” she corrected him. Keitaro blinked.

 

“I did?” he wondered. Haruka nodded. “Oh, ok,” he said, uncertain how to respond to that. Turning his attention back to the turtle, he began to examine it. “Heh, heh, heh, this thing looks a bit like Tama-chan,” he said, struggling for something to say.

 

“A little I suppose,” came the calm reply from Haruka, a smile on her face.

 

Keitaro was looking at the turtle, examining the base. “This thing is cut from the rock floor,” he exclaimed, “not just carved and placed here!” Haruka moved closer, bending down to examine it herself.

 

“I think you are right,” she said. “And see this?” she said, pointing to a small stone tube, “this is where the spring water comes up,” said the woman. “For being so old, this is an incredible level of technical skill.”

 

“Yeah! Isn't it cool?!” he excitedly agreed. Scuttling around the base, he continued his exploration. Watching him, Haruka found herself recalling her own early days. Even then, I can't recall being this happy, she thought, though he is certainly just as enthusiastic as Seta, she grinned. Moving after Keitaro, she hadn't taken two steps before she felt a floor stone shift under her feet. Before she could warn him, the ceiling collapsed the stones coming down in a shower of sand and rock. Haruka dove at Keitaro, tackling him and shielding him with her body.