Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 7

“Phew!” Keitaro exhaled. “That's better,” he smiled, wiping salt water from his eyes. Not far from him, Haruka's head broke water as well. Grinning at him, she stroked closer to him.

 

“Feels good to get the dirt off, doesn't it?” she asked. As soon as the two had crawled out of the temple, they had made their way to the beach. With fresh water being relatively limited, they had chosen to wash off the thick layer of dirt and dust by a dip in the crystal-clear sea. The rest of their group was busy with trying to shore up the partially collapsed ruins so they could continue excavation on it, leaving them alone for the time being.

 

“Yeah, it does,” Keitaro agreed. Side by side, the two slowly swam back toward the beach, stopping when they were waist-deep in the low, slow breakers. Scrubbing the dirt and grit from their hair, silence reigned for several minutes. Finally, the two walked toward the beach, unrushed. Toweling dry, they slowly redressed.

 

“I wonder how things are back at the Hinata,” Keitaro thought out loud. Haruka hummed.

 

“Probably same as always,” she smiled.

 

“That bad?” grinned Keitaro. Haruka laughed lightly.

 

“Do you consider the normal status of the Hinata to be `bad'?” she asked him playfully.

 

“I guess not,” he admitted. “I suppose I have gotten used to it,” he smiled.

 

“The girls are special, aren't they?” Haruka said, slipping into her panties.

 

“They are,” agreed Keitaro, frowning slightly. “I don't want to break up the group, Haru,” he said. “And this thing with the scroll is threatening to do just that,” he complained. Haru nodded.

 

“It has become a bit of a mess, yes,” she agreed. “But, things are not beyond hope,” she encouraged him. “You have never given up before, Keitaro,” she said, softly touching his face, “and I can't see you giving up now, either.”

 

“I…thanks, Haru,” he said. Licking her lips, Haru leaned forward and kiss him.

 

“No charge, Keitaro,” she said, her tone low, rough and sexy. Dimly, the pair heard a crash and explosion from the camp. With barely a glance at each other, they dashed back along the dried river bed toward the camp.

 

As they neared the camp, the two Urashimas saw a thick column of black smoke rising from the edge of the camp. “Fire?” wondered Keitaro, trying to recall if anything the camp had burned like that. Haruka frowned.

 

“Fuel fire,” she said softly. “Looks like it's on the perimeter of the camp,” she continued. “Could be an attack, but from where and why way out here?” she asked herself. Grabbing Keitaro's arm, she changed their direction. “We're coming in from the desert side,” she said firmly.

 

“We're hiking around the camp? Why, Haru?” he asked her.

 

“We don't have anything that would make that big of a fuel fire, Keitaro,” Haru explained. “While I doubt that this is an attack, I'm not going to assume it isn't. If looters are raiding for black market artifacts, they might have found out we left for a dip. If so, they would be looking for us in the stream bed. Better to not be where they think we are,” she explained.

 

Keitaro blinked. “Stuff like that really happens, Haru?” he asked her, surprised.

 

“Yeah, Keitaro,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Once, we were in South America, and a group of banditos tried to steal some Incan artifacts we had recovered from a high Andes ruin. Between Seta, Sarah's mom and me, we managed to drive them off three times before we made it to safety,” she related. “The world of archeology is not as safe as you might have thought from the classes you attended at Todai,” grinned Haruka.

 

“You know,” said Keitaro as the two scurried through the edges of the dry river bed and along the edges of the desert dunes, “that is the first time you have told me anything about your travels, Haru,” he observed. Haruka shrugged.

 

“Old, tired stories, Keitaro,” she dismissed them. “But…if you want, I will tell you those stories,” she offered quietly.

 

“I'd like that, Haru,” he accepted her offer. Haruka looked at the column of black smoke.

 

“Ok, we can cut back in toward the camp,” said his cousin. “Keep your eyes open and follow my lead,” directed the older Urashima. Keitaro nodded as they cut in toward the camp, weaving between and along the low dunes and scrub that marked the border of the ruins. Farther in, toward the center, was their camp.

 

A half hour had passed before they got a look at the source of the fire, which was beginning to die down. Haruka surveyed the scene before her for a long second before jumping to her feet from where she had been crouched just behind a small line of scrub and marching toward the camp. Keitaro hurried after her.

 

The fire was what was left of some sort of machine. From the large blades, Keitaro determined that the machine was a helicopter. Not far from the wreckage was Seta's van - on it's roof but basically undamaged as always - and the man himself. As usual, he was bleeding from some superficial head wounds. “Seta, you jackass!” screamed Haru, making a straight line for the older archeologist.

 

“Oh! Haruka! There you are,” smiled Seta. Haruka was having none of that. No sooner than she was in range than she unloaded a sucker punch on him that floored him.

 

“Nothing ever changes with you, does it?!” screamed Haruka. “Let me guess,” she continued her angry outburst, “you went to town to make the arrangements, but got sidetracked. When you finally remembered what you were supposed to be doing, you rushed over to the airport, but found out we had already left. In your haste, you rushed back and borrowed the chopper, only to crash it here. How am I doing so far, Seta?” hissed Haruka.

 

“Um, well…” he said, looking away from the angry woman.

 

“Of course you didn't bother to ask if the chopper was flight worthy, did you?” she lectured him, scowl deepening.

 

“I thought I fixed it,” defended Seta. Haruka sneered at him.

 

“Seta, you couldn't fix an ice cube.”

 

“Keitaro!” came a high, clear voice from the side. Haruka turned to look at Keitaro just in time to see a small, dark form jump him. Haruka's anger evaporated instantly.

 

“Nyamo,” Keitaro managed, hugging the girl. “It's good to see you again,” he smiled at her. She really does look like Shinobu-chan with a deep tan, he thought, looking into her smiling face. Haruka walked away from Seta, approaching the two. “Haru, look who we found,” he said to his cousin. Nyamo smiled as Haruka patted her head fondly.

 

“Hey, Nyamo,” greeted Haruka. “Did you get kidnapped by that idiot back there?” she asked the girl fondly. Nyamo nodded. “Thought as much,” Haruka replied sagely.

 

“Hi, part-timer,” Seta greeted Keitaro, smiling at him as he fished for a cigarette. Finding his pack of smokes crushed and soaked in his own blood, he discarded the pack. “Can I bum a smoke, Haru?” he asked her.

 

“I stopped smoking,” said Haru, not even looking at him. Seta blinked. Nyamo was already pulling on Keitaro's hand, the young man following her as she guided him in toward the site, eager to show him something or other. Haruka fell into step with Keitaro. Hurrying after them, Seta managed to catch up to Haruka.

 

“So, you two just got here?” he asked her. Haru didn't look at him.

 

“We've been on site two days now,” said the woman. “We have already done the initial survey on the new chamber, but got caved in,” she said succinctly. “We need to prioritize the removal of the over-burden above that chamber so we can safely work in it. Get the dig crew organized and going,” directed Haruka.

 

“Ok,” agreed Seta. “I must say, I am surprised that you came with Keitaro,” he tried, offering her a smile.

 

“Granny Hina's orders,” she said coolly. Seta raised an eyebrow.

 

“Trouble?” he asked.

 

“Nothing that concerns you, Seta,” she broke off the topic.

 

“I see,” Seta replied. “I have a free cot in my tent, if you want,” he changed topics.

 

“Pass,” she said curtly. “I like my current tent-mate,” she added, a smile tugging at her lips.

 

“And who are you bunked with?” wondered Seta.

 

“Keitaro,” she said evenly. “Now, you need to start along the north side of the passage. I doubt that you will find anything worth saving in the overburden, given that the site has been cold since the start. I'd say do a single fast-sift and keep moving until you reach the stones. Use a step approach, too, since the sand and soil is prone to collapse,” she warned him.

 

“I've done this before,” he reminded her blandly.

 

“Never done it right,” grunted Haruka. “Dig team,” she called out, raising her voice. Several of the young people gathered around her and Seta. “We have to clear the overburden off the temple,” she directed them. “Seta will be heading up this stage, so let's get going before the room completely collapses,” she directed them, almost shoving Seta toward the site where several students had already begun to dig at the several feet of soil covering the temple.

 

Moving back to where Keitaro and Nyamo were examining some artifacts, she crouched next to Keitaro and the young girl. “Haru, Nyamo says that she found some artifacts like the ones in the temple on an atoll not too far from here,” Keitaro explained eagerly. “We should go check it out!” he enthused. Haru considered that for a moment.

 

“With Seta finally getting his ass back in gear, we can look into it,” smiled Haruka. “Nyamo, do you have a way to get to the atoll?” she asked the girl. Nyamo smiled, nodding.

 

“Good,” Haruka approved, “we will get things here settled down, put Seta back to work, then go check out this atoll tomorrow or the day after,” decided Haruka. “For now,” she said, standing, “there is work to be done.”

 

-

 

“We're home!” came the cheerful voice of Mutsumi as she opened the door to the Hinata. Just behind her, Granny Hina and Tsuruko followed her into the house.

 

“Granny Hina!” came the voice of Shinobu, just before the girl flew past Mutsumi to throw herself at the small, wrinkled owner of the house.

 

“Well, I'm glad to see you, too, Shinobu-chan,” Hina said, “but what's wrong?” she asked.

 

Shinobu mutely shook her head. Moments later, Kitsune appeared before them. “I am glad to see you, Granny,” said the slacker.

 

“Trouble, I assume?” Tsuruko said, eyeing Shinobu's agitated state and feeling the discord in the house. Motoko, have you failed to maintain the peace? she wondered.

 

“We had a visit from Mei,” said Kitsune as Hina easily guided Shinobu to the couch.

 

“Mei?” asked Tsuruko.

 

“Naru's younger sister,” supplied Mutsumi, her smile faded some.

 

“It seems that when she visited her family a few days ago, Naru scared Mei enough that she took out a restraining order against her and set up an appointment with a shrink,” Kitsune said.

 

“Oh?”

 

“That's not all,” sniffled Shinobu, Hina stroking the girl's hair soothingly. “Kanako disguised herself as Keitaro, and Naru tried to attack her. Kanako said that she was evicting Naru!” Shinobu cried out.

 

“Ah,” sighed Mutsumi, moving toward the stairs.

 

“Where are you going, Mutsumi?” wondered Kitsune.

 

“To talk to Na-chan,” said Mutsumi reasonably.

 

“Uh, I don't think that is a good idea right now, Mutsumi,” warned Kitsune. Mutsumi didn't answer her; nor did she pause.

 

“Where are Motoko and Kanako right now?” asked Tsuruko.

 

“They're in Keitaro's room, arguing,” said Shinobu, calmer now. Turning to look at Granny Hina, she appealed to the head of the Urashima clan. “Please, Granny Hina, talk to Kanako!”

 

“I suppose I could speak with her,” Granny Hina said, smiling at Shinobu. Giving the girl a kiss on her forehead, she saw Shinobu smile. “I think dinner is burning,” she smiled. Shinobu gasped, leaping off the couch and running into the kitchen. Hina sighed.

 

“Tsuruko,” said the old woman, “I hope you got some rest on the train,” warned the old woman, “this is likely to be a long night.”

 

“I understand, Hina-sama,” said the older sister. Together, the pair walked to the manager's apartment. As they neared it, they could heard the angry voices from inside. Not pausing, Hina threw the door open.

 

“Ok, that is enough of that, children,” said the old woman, clapping her hands once. The two froze in mid-sentence. “Kanako,” said Hina, “I understand you want to evict Naru?”

 

“I do,” said the younger sister. “She is unstable, Grandma Hina, and her presence here disrupts the entire house,” she reasoned. “Her own sister was injured by her blind anger, and is worried enough about being attacked directly that she took out a restraining order against Narusegawa.”

 

“It is not your place to evict her, Kanako,” Motoko said hotly. “You are the acting manager, not the manager! Only Keitaro or Granny Hina can evict her! And to do so now would be to literally throw her out on the street!” the samurai girl insisted.

 

“You support her, Motoko?” asked Tsuruko. Motoko shook her head.

 

“I do not condone her actions, sister,” said Motoko. “But, I believe that to evict her without Keitaro's knowledge will prove a much greater disruption to the house than letting her remain until such a decision can be made by the rightful manager of the dorm,” she said.

 

“You saw for yourself what she will do when next she sees Onii-chan,” Kanako insisted. “You would give her a chance to strike him again?”

 

“I would give her a chance to regain some measure of control over herself,” Motoko said. “And I would see that the decision is made by the one with the authority to make it, as well as the one who has suffered most from her anger.”

 

“A fair stance,” Hina said calmly. “I hear that Mei-chan arranged a visit to a psychologist for Naru?” she asked. Both girls nodded. “Very well,” said Hina. “Until I say otherwise, Naru may remain here,” she stated. “However,” added Hina, “her future here will be dependant on her choices. Am I understood?” she asked the two.

 

“Yes, Grandma,” Kanako said meekly.

 

“Hai,” Motoko confirmed.

 

“Good,” said Hina. “Kanako, you are due in the kitchen to assist Shinobu with the meal preparations. Motoko, you and Tsuruko have some things that you need to discuss between yourselves.”

 

“And you?” wondered Tsuruko. Hina hummed.

 

“I have to speak with someone,” she said, moving to the spot where the hole that connected Keitaro's room with Naru's room was located. Easily jumping up, she pushed the cover off, landed, and immediately leapt through the hole as easily as one would step up a stair tread. “We'll be down for dinner,” came Hina's voice before the cover closed behind her.

 

-

 

Gradually, the man opened his eyes. Where the hell am I? he wondered, grimacing at the taste in his mouth and the throbbing in his head. Gradually, he tried to recall what he had been doing. I was doing a home-visit, and… he blinked, the memories rushing back. “Maehara-chan! She's in danger!” he cried out; or would have, if his throat hadn't been so dry. Coughing, he wondered why his voice was hoarse.

 

“Oh! You're awake!” came a chipper voice. Focusing on the voice, he saw a woman in a pink nurse's outfit enterer the room. “You were beginning to worry us,” she beamed at him.

 

“Where am I?” he wondered, more to himself than to her.

 

“Tokyo Medical hospital,” the nurse said.

 

“Why?”

 

“You slipped and hit your head, sir. A call was made, requesting an ambulance. We brought you here. You had a concussion and were in a mild coma,” she related, checking his chart.

 

“I slipped?” he wondered, frowning. “I didn't slip…” he muttered, a jerky, disjointed memory of an enraged Oni slapping him aside like a cobweb flickering through his mind. “I was assaulted!” he blurted out. The nurse frowned.

 

“The residents said you tripped or slipped,” she said, shrugging. “Anyway, there were no obvious signs you were attacked,” continued the nurse. “If you want to file a report with the police, I can have the officer assigned to us come by,” she offered. The man considered that for a moment.

 

“Um, maybe once I have rested a bit,” he said slowly. Better not get the police involved right now, he decided, I don't have any proof that I was assaulted, and if I file a complaint now, it will just get buried and make me look like a man out for a settlement. No, he calculated, better to submit a complete report to the school board, then leak the situation and the fact that the report is on file to the press. Once they pick it up, I can go to the police as Maehara's teacher and have her removed from that lunatic asylum!

 

“Well, let me know if want to speak to them,” the nurse dismissed the issue.

 

“I'm feeling much better,” said the man, sitting up a little, “I think I will head home now,” he said. The nurse shook her head.

 

“Sorry,” she said insincerely, “we have to keep you here for another twenty four hours for observation. Hospital policy for head injuries,” she explained. “Can I get you anything?” she asked, preparing to resume her rounds.

 

“Did you happen to get my briefcase?” he asked. She nodded. “Excellent,” he said. “If you would bring me my laptop, I would appreciate it,” he said.

 

-

 

“So, this is your boat?” asked Keitaro, seeing the fifteen-foot or so wooden boat that had been dragged up into the edge of the vegetation line. He, Haruka and Nyamo were at the mouth of the dry river, preparing to sail to the atoll. He and Haruka had small packs with them, just in case. Nyamo nodded.

 

“Looks fine,” Haru said, giving it a quick but thorough once-over. It had a single mast de-stepped for storage, and was angled to give the modest keel clearance. The rudder was stowed neatly, and some logs allowed the boat to roll down to the water. Nyamo untied a rope that held the boat to a stunted palm tree, and minutes later, the small but sturdy boat was floating in waist-deep water, and the three were scrambling aboard.

 

In short order, the mast was raised, the sail set, and the boat was skimming along before a steady, strong breeze. Nyamo steered, Haruka and Keitaro tended to the sail as necessary, and all three enjoyed the journey. Haruka pulled off her shirt and shorts revealing a dark blue bikini while Nyamo was - as always - in her strapless top and short skirt. As the day grew warm, Nyamo untied the skirt, revealing a worn, ragged pair of shorts that were no larger on her slim frame than Haru's bikini was on her. At the insistence of the two women, Keitaro took off his shirt, his tan having faded a little while he was in Tokyo, but still visible.

 

A little after mid-day, Haru saw a low, thin patch of land before them, and pulled a pair of small binoculars from her bag. Focusing on the spot, she saw the atoll. It was perhaps a half mile long, and maybe two hundred yards wide at the widest point. The highest point of the island couldn't be more than ten feet above the high tide line. Little more than scraggly sea oats, salt grass and thistles grew on it, though here and there, a scarred and battered mangrove tree or stunted palm struggled to hold on.

 

With practiced skill, Nyamo guided the craft past some coral heads, into an irregular pan lagoon and then close to shore before she kicked a crude anchor over the rail, chain lead and rope trailing it to the bottom about five feet below them. With the rope tied off, she checked the water around the boat before rolling into the water. Being short, she had to swim a few yards until she could stand, then walk onto the beach. Keitaro and Haruka rolled in after her and walked to shore, holding their packs above their heads.

 

“This is a pretty barren place,” noted Haru, slinging her pack over a shoulder. “Where did you find those artifacts, Nyamo?” asked the woman.

 

Nyamo led them to a small rocky spot near the center of the island, just a little lower than the highest dune. Squatting down, she dug into the sand and broken shell soil of the island. Crouching next to her, the two Urashimas watched as a straight line of stone emerged. Though worn by time and elements, they could make out the signs that the stone had once been chiseled with some form of design, be it a language or pictures or just a geometric shape. Digging a little deeper, Nyamo sudden held up her hand, smiling widely at Keitaro. In her small, delicate hand was a small carved idol.

 

“Wow,” breathed Keitaro, examining the graven image. “Turtle?” he asked Haru, who studied it as well.

 

“Probably,” she allowed. “It is worn down pretty good, so it's hard to be certain, but given the fact that this is close to the turtle temple, it makes sense that it would be a turtle,” ruled Haruka. Reaching back, she pulled a small shovel free from where it had been loosely tied to her pack. “Shall we?” she grinned at him. In short order, they had uncovered the top and sides of an alter.

 

Sifting through the shovels of sand with a loose screen, documenting the site and sketching it out, the three lost track of time until Haru's watch began to beep. Looking at it, she blinked. “We better start back now,” she said to the other two. “This is going to have to be a secondary excavation site, and I don't want to try sailing in the dark around here, so let's head back,” she said.

 

“Sounds good,” agreed Keitaro. His stomach rumbled. “And I'm kind of hungry, too,” he said. Nyamo giggled. After ten minutes of quick work, the three moved back to the boat, waded out, climbed aboard and pulled up the anchor. Once they were in the open water, Nyamo offered Keitaro a small bundle. Opening it, he found that it contained some smoked fish, a foil pack of crackers with cheese, and a small bag of dried tropical fruit. With the water he and Haru had brought, the three of them had a good - if light - meal as they sailed back to the main site.

 

“Not as good as Shinobu's cooking, but plenty good,” Keitaro sighed, stretched out comfortably in the boat, Haru next to him. Just behind the two, Nyamo guided the boat.

 

“You think about her a lot, don't you?” asked Haru, her hand absently holding his.

 

“I guess,” he said. “I think about all the girls a lot,” he admitted. “I am supposed to be taking care of them, you know?” he pointed out.

 

Haru snorted. “You are their manager, Keitaro,” she countered, “not their little house boy. You should manage them rather than serve them,” suggested Haru. Keitaro frowned.

 

“But, I like it when they are happy,” he said softly. Haru sighed.

 

“Yes, I know,” she said, “and that is what drives them nuts, you know.”