Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 11

“Ah, Narusegawa,” greeted the doctor, seeing Naru step into his office. Just behind the brunette came her minder. As Naru settled on the couch, the doctor found himself looking at an unfamiliar face. “Pardon me,” he said the young woman who had come with Naru, “but I do not think we have met,” he said.

 

“I am Urashima,” said the dark-haired girl, her voice low and toneless. “That is all there is to discuss,” she ended the conversation.

 

“I assume, therefore, that Hina-sama will not be attending today?” asked the man delicately. The girl nodded, her eyes narrow as they studied him intently. “Are you familiar with the situation here?” he asked the girl.

 

“Get on with it,” said the girl, a touch of irritation leaking through. Looking over at Naru, the doctor saw signs of his patient being stressed by the presence of the other girl. For the last dozen sessions, the white-haired head of the Urashima family had sat in on the sessions; much to the doctor's relief, since Naru had exploded in fits of rage many times, and seeing her demolish things when triggered had he wondering if maybe had made the wrong choice of careers.

 

Hina, eternally cheerful and seemingly care-free had contained each eruption of Mount Naru with uncanny skill and ease. Though it was technically against the rules of therapy to have another sit in on the sessions, he was very glad that Hina had been there. He had decided to treat this case like a couples' session, which let him off the hook through a loophole. Now, Hina wasn't there, but this dark-haired girl was, and Naru was stressing out again. Hope she took her medication, he thought, unlocking his safe and withdrawing his legal pad with her notes on it.

 

He had wanted to do weekly sessions with Naru, but Hina had flatly over-ridden him. So, he had been having two-hour sessions with Naru three times a week. The first two weeks had been the hardest. First because the medication he had prescribed for her took a full week to reach potency, and secondly because during the first dozen or so sessions, he was busy mapping her triggering issues and planning a treatment course for her. And now, just when she is reaching balance, Hina sends in this strange girl, he mused, getting comfortable in his chair.

 

“If you are ready, Naru, let's begin,” he said calmly.

 

“I'm ready,” she said, clasping her hands. Glancing at the dark-haired girl, who was standing by the edge of the desk, she almost frowned. “Kanako, you might want to sit down,” she offered. “Granny usually sat in that chair,” added the brunette, indicating a compact chair not far from the door. Kanako eyed it.

 

“I'll stand,” she said.

 

“Look, I know you don't want to be here, Kanako,” said Naru forcefully, sitting up, “but I don't want to have to put up with you being cranky or fidgety because you chose to stand instead of sit for two hours!” The doctor watched and listened intently, pen poised over the pages of the pad. Oh, now this is unexpected, he thought. He immediately saw several positive things about the situation before him. I can judge how Naru is reacting to the therapy, as well as find if any new issues are presenting themselves. Also, from the tension between the two, I can gauge how she is handling stress in her current state. Hina-sama, I think I have underestimated you, he thought.

 

“I do not get cranky or fidgety, Naru,” said the girl coldly. Why am I being forced to baby-sit her, anyway? wondered the youngest Urashima girl irritably. To her, it seemed like Granny Hina had deliberately chosen to send her, rather than one of the more logical choices: Mutsumi or one of the Aoyama sisters. Even that drunk fox would have been a more reasonable choice than me, fumed the girl. “I would not be required to be here if you had better control over your rage,” she needled, eyes on Naru. If I can goad her into attacking me or the doctor, I can give her some `therapy' of my own and Granny can't complain, she thought eagerly.

 

Naru gritted her teeth, but fought back the urge to lash out. “Fine, Kanako,” she said tightly, “I have issues. But at least I'm working through mine!” she finished in a snarl. Kanako offered her a thin smile. “I should ask Granny to send you here,” Naru went on, eyes hard. “After all, your fixation on Keitaro is hardly normal or healthy!” she needled back.

 

“Better mine than yours, Naru,” Kanako said. The doctor's full attention was on the two, his pen furiously scratching notes. “I do not assault my O…Keitaro,” she corrected herself. Naru's eyes widened.

 

“What happened to `Onii-chan', Kanako?” she asked. “Why the sudden switch to `Keitaro'?” Kanako was silent. Inhaling deeply, Naru slowly let it out. “Look, Kanako,” she said, her tone forced to calmness, “I would appreciate it if you would sit over there. I need to concentrate on this, and having you hovering there is distracting me,” she said, the effort it took to be calm and collected coloring her tone. Kanako caught the doctor's attention shifting between them. Her eyes narrowed to slits.

 

“Very well, Naru,” said the girl, moving to the chair. Settling down, she fixed the doctor with a penetrating stare. When the man didn't say anything for a full minute, she bared her teeth at him. “Show's over,” she warned him, “get to work.”

 

“Very well,” the man said, turning his high-back chair to face Naru squarely. Amazing, he thought, covertly turning a page in the pad so he had a fresh one ready, three trigger points and a denial issue, and she sailed through them without losing control or getting defensive! I knew it! I am a genius! “Let's start with how you have been getting along with your housemates, Naru,” he said. Naru sighed.

 

“I've been getting along with them,” she said. “There is still some tension from…some issues,” she sidestepped the engagement debate, since Hina had not been keen on that getting out, “but with Keitaro away right now, I think things are settling down.”

 

“And when Keitaro comes back?” wondered the doctor. Naru pursed her lips.

 

“Well, when he comes back,” she said slowly, “there will be some issues that have to be addressed before I can even speak with him privately,” the girl mused. “But, when I can speak with him privately, I think…maybe I could ask his forgiveness for what happened before.”

 

“Forgiveness is a good first step, Naru,” the doctor said, notes beginning to fill the page, “but the larger issue remains. Have you given thought to that?” he wondered. Naru nodded.

 

“I have,” she said. “And, well, I guess rather or not that will even come up depends on rather or not Keitaro forgives me; as well as some other issues surrounding him and us,” said the girl. The doctor nodded.

 

“That is progress in the right direction, of course,” he said, “but what would you do if he doesn't accept your apology or if the past issues between you had finally proven too much for him to deal with?” pressed the doctor.

 

“I…” Naru paused, forcing herself to think of the worst-case scenario. “I…would leave the Hinata,” she said quietly. No way I could stay there, she thought. Not after all that has happened.

 

“Hmm,” hummed the doctor. “And where would you go? Home?”

 

“I…can't,” said Naru. My own sister is scared of me. How could I live under the same roof as her? “I would have to either figure out how to afford a dorm room at Todai or get a studio apartment somewhere,” she thought out loud. Nothing for it if I lose the Hinata, but I have no other choice. All my friends live in the Hinata, and I'm banned from home! It occurred to her that once Mei left, she could probably move back home, but that wasn't a given. And it would leave Mei and I like we are now forever, she realized. God, how did I let it come to this?

 

-

 

“Sister,” murmured Motoko, blushing as she stood with her sister in a shop in Tokyo, “what are we doing here?” she asked. Her older sister was casually looking through a rack of panty and bra sets, comparing various sets side by side.

 

“It's simple,” replied Tsuruko calmly, “we are preparing for battle,” she said.

 

“Battle?” breathed Motoko, blushing deeper as Tsuruko held a set against herself.

 

“Battle, Motoko-chan,” said Tsuruko firmly. “And we are at a disadvantage against some very dangerous opponents,” added the elder sister. “Were this a sword fight or a fight against demons and oni, we would be prepared, but I fear that our opponents are far more dangerous that what we normally face,” smiled Tsuruko. As a master of the Aoyama arts, she welcomed battles against worth foes.

 

“Are you sure we face such heavy opposition?” Motoko wondered. She spotted a salesgirl approaching the two, a gleam in her eye as she smelled a really good sale.

 

“We have never faced such a dangerous group, sister,” giggled Tsuruko. “For all their individual flaws, the girls at the Hinata are surprisingly unified in areas we are weak,” she lectured. “I am sure that I need not remind you that Shinobu-chan can defeat us both in the domestic arts without any real effort on her part,” pointed out Tsuruko. “Kitsune and Kanako are both far more skilled at deception and manipulation than we, and both see and hear far more than they let on. Mutsumi - for all her seeming innocence - has the advantage over us in her clan's having an agreement with the Urashimas to wed her and Keitaro. And while there seems to be resistance from her family, Su has managed a legal claim on Keitaro as well.”

 

“And then, there is Naru,” Motoko murmured. We stood aside for so long for her, and Keitaro does feel something for the girl, no matter her violence, Motoko thought. Naru, who is going to therapy three times a week, she recalled.

 

The quiet conversation of the two was interrupted by the salesgirl reaching them. “You two must be sisters!” she opened brightly. “I am so envious! You are both so tall and sexy,” she fake-pouted. Unlike usual, the two were not dressed in their hakamas and gis, but in regular clothes. Motoko was wearing her only mini-skirt and a sleeveless blouse, while Tsuruko was wearing a skirt scarcely longer than Motoko's mini, with a peasant blouse, leaving her shoulders bare. Both sisters were shod in conservative sneakers, their hair bound up in ponytails. Neither of them looked like they were Shinmei-ryu masters, though Motoko's hands nervously mimicked clasping her sword.

 

“Yes, we are sister,” Tsuruko smiled. The girl working the shop was typical of Tokyo: short, dyed hair, multiple earrings, miniskirt, tight tube top with a baggy over-jacket, and a fake tan. Accenting this was - to her eye - garish lipstick and eyeliner, and a distasteful amount of accessories; again, to her eyes. As pure-blood Aoyama warriors, neither sister had much use for makeup, accessories, or any of the frivolous things so many of their contemporaries were obsessed with. Strange, but none of the girls at the Hinata are into such things, either, Tsuruko mused.

 

“What can I help you with?” asked the sales girl. “Something for your boyfriends?” she hinted, giggling. Tsuruko smiled back.

 

“Yes, we are looking for something for our boyfriend,” she agreed slyly.

 

“Oh!” squealed the salesgirl. “Little something to get him going?” she inelegantly insinuated. Motoko frowned slightly at that remark. Why does this girl think that we would require something to get Keitaro going other than ourselves? she wondered, feeling insulted. And she seems to have missed the change from plural to singular, as well, she put another black mark by the girl's name. “I have just the perfect thing!” gushed the sales girl, grabbing at Motoko's hand. Instinctively, Motoko blocked the girl's grab, her body reacting on automatic. Tsuruko's hand landed on her shoulder before she could advance the counter-strike.

 

“Please, show us,” said the elder sister, catching Motoko's eyes. Neither sister liked to be touched unexpectedly; a habit forged by countless matches and unexpected encounters. Together, the two followed the sales girl deeper into the shop. An hour later, the two exited the shop, each carrying two large bags while the salesgirl daydreamed of the commission she had just made. Motoko was quiet, blushing even as she recalled some of what the sales girl had urged her and her sister to try on. I am certain that some of those wouldn't even have been worn by Kitsune at her drunkest! the serious sword maiden thought to herself.

 

-

 

Kitsune stretched as she closed her word processor program and opened her browser. Logging into her online banking client, she checked her balance. Seeing the balance, she smiled. My, my! Looks like my little parable has picked up another few carriers, she thought. She had the next installment ready, even though the deadline was the end of the week. What concerned her most was when Keitaro would be back. It's all well and good to pad out the articles for a while, but if I don't get some newer material, I could be in trouble, Kitsune thought. After a couple of delicate attempts to mine Granny Hina had failed spectacularly, she had backed off from trying to get anything from the old woman. “Sharp old girl, our Granny,” she murmured aloud.

 

Having logged out of her account, she surfed the net a bit, looking for any hot tips she might find, though with everything going on of late, she had been too preoccupied to do more than place a bet ever couple of races or meets. If this keeps up, I might forget how to gamble, she thought, amused. Not seeing anything overly exciting, she scanned the news feeds, on the off chance that there might be something there of interest. Watching a clip about some incident or another, she reflected on one of the fringe benefits of having a mad genius in the house. Su had created a wireless network that would have been more than a Fortune Five Hundred company could use, and the result was that the Hinata's information capacity was greater than even Todai's. Good for Naru and the others, and handy for me, too, reflected the fox girl.

 

Thoughts of Naru prompted her to open the media folder on her laptop. Bringing up the photos she had taken from Naru's phone, she studied them, slowly clicking through the dozen or so pictures and call logs. The pictures, she mused, were not bad pictures, in that Naru was full clothed and aware in all of them. What was damaging about them were the small things. Her arm around the waist of her classmate. Another guy's hand resting on her thigh. Naru posing provocatively for a couple of shots. Small things, but dangerous, Kitsune ruminated. The fact that this was taken during a time when Naru should have been back at the Hinata, defending her position as Keitaro's girlfriend was even more telling.

 

Back from this, and the first thing she does is belt him, Kitsune thought. Still, good for me, I guess. Studying the final one, she wondered if it might not be better to erase them and just use the fact that Naru knew she had access to them as her leverage. On her screen, Naru and a guy were sharing a microphone in a karaoke room, arms around each other shoulders, nearly cheek to cheek. “Oh! Who's that with Naru?” came an eager voice from just behind her.

 

“One of her classmates,” Kitsune replied absently.

 

“Why is she kissing him?” wondered the voice.

 

“She isn't; well, not really,” amended the ash-haired girl, her mind still pre-occupied.

 

“Wasn't that the day she came home drunk?” wondered the voice.

 

“Yes, it w…?...!” Kitsune lurched to her feet, snapping her laptop closed. Sitting on her futon was a grinning blonde gaijin. “Su!” Kitsune yelled. “Don't sneak into someone's room like that!” she barked. She saw, Kitsune realized, swiftly analyzing the situation. Ok, this is Su, so I should be able to limit the damage. If it had been Kanako, it would have been game over, decided the girl. For all that she was going for her shot at a life of ease, Naru was still her best, longest-lasting friend.

 

“I did knock,” Su said innocently. Kitsune wasn't sure she wanted to get into that issue right now or not.

 

“Whatever,” she waved it off. “What are you doing in here, anyway, kid?” she asked the princess.

 

“Hiding from my sister,” shrugged Su, still smiling. Kitsune frowned.

 

“Why are you hiding from Amalla? Playing hide and seek?” she guessed.

 

Su shook her head. “She's mad again,” the younger sister said, totally unconcerned.

 

“Um, why is she mad?” wondered Kitsune, a tingle going through her. I've got a bad feeling about this…

 

“Daddy called and told her about Shinobu,” Kaolla grinned happily. Kitsune blinked.

 

“What about Shinobu-chan?” asked the older girl.

 

“I…” began Kaolla, only to be interrupted by Kitsune's door slamming open so hard it derailed.

 

“Kaolla!” screamed Amalla, baring her teeth at her younger sister. “What do you…! Hey! Get back here, runt!” yelled Amalla as a giggling Kaolla leapt out Kitsune's window, snagged the edge of the roof and flipped out of sight with the agility of a spider monkey moving through the trees. Her laughter trailed off as she scampered along the roof on her way to her next hiding spot. “Grr!” snarled Amalla.

 

“She seems to think this is a game, Amalla,” noted Kitsune, pulling a sake bottle from her stash, opening it and offering it to Amalla. Her hand trembling from the effort of containing her anger, Amalla accepted the bottle, taking a large pull. Handing it back to Kitsune, she nodded.

 

“Thanks, Kitsune,” she said tightly, “I needed that,” added the woman, jumping through Kitsune's window and vanishing after her younger sister.

 

“Guess you won't be telling me what is going on with Shinobu-chan, then,” said the fox to the empty room. Maybe I should have offered her some Crown Royal, considered Kitsune, replacing her bottle after a small sip. Amalla looked plenty ticked off. Wonder what Su did to get her like that? Starting to stand, a glint of gold caught her eye. Bending over, she found a gold ring, worn by time but untouched by corruption resting against the wall under the window. Frowning, she picked it up.

 

Man, this thing looks ancient, thought the girl, eyeing it critically. Certainly not one of mine, determined the girl. Did Su drop this? wondered Kitsune. Thinking about that possibility, she mutely shook her head. I have never seen her wearing a ring like this; in fact, I have only ever seen bangles and anklets, and that chain around her hips when she is transformed, but they vanish again when she reverts. I doubt that this is hers, and Amalla's rings are very different from this, so it probably isn't hers, determined Kitsune. “What they don't know…” whispered the fox, smiling.

 

Curious, she tried it on, finding it to be a good fit on her finger. Admiring it she decided to leave it there for the day. I'll take it off and hide it with my other stuff tonight, the woman thought. From another portion of the huge Hinata came another yell from Amalla, mixed with the energetic laughter of Kaolla. “I think I could go for a nice afternoon dip,” Kitsune said to no one.

 

-

 

“Hinata House,” said Shinobu, picking up the phone. She had been it the kitchen, preparing the evening feast, when the phone had rung. With no one else being closer, she had stepped out to the common room to answer it. Listening for a moment, she frowned.

 

“Yes, Urashima Keitaro lives here,” she confirmed. Her frown deepened.

 

“Yes, he is the manager of the dorm,” she once more confirmed. Unnoticed, a dark form slipped down the stairs in ghostly silence. “No, he is not available right now,” said the young domestic. “However, the acting manager could…” Shinobu stopped suddenly, a hand gently gripping her shoulder as another took the headset from her.

 

“This is Urashima Kanako, acting manager of the Hinata. Who is this?” asked the younger sister of Keitaro, her hand still on Shinobu's shoulder. “I see,” said the slim girl a moment later. “Are you stating that you are speaking in an official capacity?” challenged the sister. Shinobu felt a spike of worry. “That being the case, you have no right to make such accusations. You can expect a call from our family attorneys within the next twenty four hours. Good bye.” Kanako said, cradling the phone.

 

“Kanako?” asked Shinobu softly. Kanako offered her ally a small smile.

 

“I will handle this, Shinobu,” said the girl. “If anyone else calls with questions like that, hang up on them,” directed the girl, turning away. “I think supper is beginning to burn,” added Kanako. Shinobu gave a startled eep! and dashed back into the kitchen.

 

Hurrying out the door and down the steps, Kanako entered the Tea Shop, finding Granny Hina having tea at a table with Mutsumi's mother and the elder of the Turtle Clan. There were a half dozen or so customers in the shop, but as usual, the place was quiet and relaxed. Kanako moved right to the table Hina was at.

 

“Kanako,” smiled Hina, “what brings you here so unexpectedly?” asked the head of the Urashima.

 

“Forgive my interruption, Granny,” said Kanako politely, “but I need to speak with you about a matter of some urgency,” she said. Hina glanced at the two with her.

 

“So, speak,” shrugged the old woman. Kanako leaned closer to her grandmother.

 

“An administrator from Todai just called, asking questions about On…Keitaro,” she once more corrected herself. “The questions were directed at his position in the Hinata and I did not like his tone.”

 

“You think something is wrong?” wondered Hina. Kanako shrugged.

 

“I think it best to handle this swiftly and discreetly, in light of what is going on right now,” murmured Kanako. I will not have Onii-chan being pressured while this matter is unresolved! she thought poisonously. “I think a visit from our firm would solve this matter,” she added.

 

“Hmm,” hummed Hina. “Very well, Kanako,” said the old woman. “You know the number. You have my permission to handle this matter,” she pronounced. Kanako bowed her head briefly.

 

“Thank you, Granny,” said the girl, hurrying off. Mutsumi's mother smiled at Hina.

 

“Well, I see you are as clever and good at reading people as always, Hina,” she said. Hina smiled.

 

“Lots of practice with difficult people,” she chuckled. “Will you be staying here at the Hinata?” asked the old woman. Mutsumi's mother glanced at the head of her clan.

 

“I will stay a little longer, but Torahiro will be returning tomorrow morning to Okinawa.”

 

“Well, I hope it is not because of our hospitality,” Hina smiled at her contemporary.

 

“Your hospitality is never lacking, Hina,” the man said. “In truth, I sort of envy our priestess, living here with you and the candidates,” he admitted. “You have done well with our priestess,” he shared.

 

“Mutsumi-chan is as loved by me as my own grandchildren; and she is just as loved by the other residents of the Hinata,” Hina demurred.

 

“Speaking of that,” Mutsumi's mother slid into the conversation, “do you think that it will work?” asked the woman.

 

“I have some small hope, yes,” Hina said, sipping her tea. “Even if it does not bear full fruit, I do not see it leaving pain and scars in the hearts of any of them; though it might leave a bitter taste in the mouths of a few should it crumble,” qualified the old woman.

 

-

 

“How are we doing?” asked Haruka, stopping beside Keitaro. The young man was standing by the door to the `office' of the only freight handling company on Pararakelse Island. Though, to call this an office is to vastly overstate things, the older Urashima thought. It was an attached shed next to the fuel pump head at the end of the wood and concrete pier that served all boats in the town.

 

“Well,” said Keitaro slowly, turning pages, “we have the capacity, but I am a little concerned that we might not get the gear assembled in time,” he shared.

 

“What do you mean?” wondered Haruka, leaning beside him and scanning the pages. Lots of line with check marks greeted her gaze, but many more were still unchecked.

 

“He said he can only have the boat available for two weeks, and with the ETA for the communication gear looking like three weeks to get here…” Keitaro began.

 

“And why can he only ship the goods during the next two weeks?” asked Haruka, frowning.

 

“He said he had to have the boat overhauled at the shipyard,” Keitaro said. Haruka frowned.

 

“Wait here,” said his cousin, ducking into the office and closing the door behind her. Keitaro wondered what Haruka was up to; more so when he heard a crash and the rough, poorly-fitted lean-to shook.

 

“Um, Haru?” he called, uncertainly. Reaching for the door, he stopped when he heard Haru repeat herself.

 

“Wait there, Keitaro.”

 

Swallowing nervously, he heard low, angry words from inside the office, then another crash, followed by a whimper. I…I should go in, he decided, resolutely reaching for the door again, only to have it open and Haru step through, closing it behind herself. She was smiling.

 

“Taken care of,” said the woman, twirling a set of keys with one hand, and looking at a worn, dirty piece of paper in the other. Haruka took Keitaro's elbow in hand and led him down the pier toward the boat they had chartered. It was a shallow-draft costal cargo ship, with a lowering forward ramp, similar to a Higgins boat from World War Two. It was made of steel, wood, fiberglass and glue, but was - from the look of things - held together by rust and bird droppings.

 

“Hey, Haru…?” Keitaro began.

 

“Don't worry,” she soothed him, stroking his arm briefly, “I didn't treat him like the girls treated you,” she grinned. “It was just a matter of explaining to him our needs; and being firm,” she added, still smiling.

 

“Oh,” was as much as Keitaro could manage. Haru is…! he shook that thought aside as stepped over and down into the boat. “What are we doing?” he asked her. Haruka was looking around, an expression of concentration on her face.

 

“Taking a look at this barely-floating heap to make a list of necessary repairs, Keitaro,” said his lover. “Hand me the clipboard,” she added. Keitaro did so. Pulling a short pencil from her shorts pocket, she began to make notes in the margin of the lists on the clipboard. Using the keys, she managed to get the motor started, listened to it run for a few moments, then turned it off. Peering over the stern, she made a few more notes.

 

Haruka swiftly stepped out of the boat. “Let's go to the shipyard,” she said, her arm draping over Keitaro's shoulders. Keitaro found himself smiling as he felt her arm settle around his shoulders. Impulsively, he hooked his arm around her waist, under her loose over-shirt so he could feel her warm, soft skin.

 

“We're going to the shipyard because…?” he prompted her.

 

“We have to have our boat prepped for work in the next two weeks, so they need to get started today,” Haruka said, scanning her notes.

 

“Our boat?”

 

“After I explained that his timetable was incompatible with our needs, he agreed to sell us the boat for the cost of chartering it,” Haru replied innocently. Keitaro tried not to think about why the man had agreed to what amounted to giving them the boat. He recalled the way that the shack had shaken. “Still, it will be tight,” she muttered.

 

“What will be tight?” wondered Keitaro, his hand rubbing her stomach.

 

“The boat is in worse shape than I thought,” admitted Haruka. “It's probably for the best,” she sighed, “if we had taken it as charter, it would probably have sunk as well; more than likely right about where the sailboat went down,” chuckled his cousin.

 

“Well,” said Keitaro softly, “I have to say, that worked out…pretty good,” he risked.

 

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Haruka replied, hugging him even as they walked. Nearing the end of the pier, Keitaro spoke again.

 

“This is nice,” he murmured.

 

“What's nice? Me? Of course I'm nice,” teased Haruka.

 

“No. Well, yes,” Keitaro waffled, “but I meant walking around like this, not worrying about being seen or anything; it's nice.”

 

“Must be nice to know you aren't about to be sent flying, too,” replied Haru blandly.

 

“They aren't that bad, Haru,” Keitaro insisted. “And really, it's doesn't hurt that much,” he insisted. Haruka didn't say anything for a moment, fighting back the words that sprang to mind.

 

“Keitaro,” she said at last, the two moving toward the shipyard that was at the base of the shallow bay's outside jetty, “you won't be sent flying again. Not ever,” she added.

 

“Only until I make a mistake, you mean,” he chuckled. Haruka didn't.

 

“No, I mean none of the girls will do that to you ever again,” said the woman firmly. “I won't let them,” she explained.

 

“Huh? You've always stood back and let us work out our own issues before,” he noted. Haruka stepped in front of him, taking his shoulders in her hands.

 

“I know, and it was a mistake,” she said, holding his gaze. “I allowed bad habits to form, and those bad habits have caused you a lot of grief. It's clear to me now that I should have stepped in from the very start, when Naru and Kitsune were after you the day you arrived. I'm sorry I didn't, Keitaro,” apologized his cousin, “but from this moment on, never fear being hurt by any of the woman in the Hinata. I promise you, they won't be laying a finger on you in anger.”

 

“It's fine, Haru! You didn't make a mistake, really!” Keitaro denied earnestly. “If you hadn't stood back and let us figure it out on our own, we would still be strangers to each other, and I would probably never have gotten to know the girls like I have!” he insisted.

 

Haruka studied his eyes intently. Sighing, she leaned in and kissed him soundly. When she broke the kiss, she was smiling again. “You are unbelievable, Keitaro,” she said mysteriously, turning back toward the shipyard. Catching his hand, she guided it back around her waist.

 

Reaching the shipyard, Haruka swiftly located the foreman's office - this time, it was a bare-bone metal shed with a few screened openings and a large fan in the ceiling to circulate air - and began setting up the work she judged necessary on the boat. After a short negotiation about price and time, Haruka got down to business.

 

“We need the boat hauled out or blocked in dry dock, the bottom scraped, inspected, repaired if necessary, two coats of sealant applied, paint on the bottom and to just above waterline, re-wire the lights and controls, overhaul the motor, inspect the seals, shafts, screws and rudders, pressure wash or sand-blast the deck area, gunwales and ramp, drain fuel tank and repair leaks, and finally prep for sea with new emergency equipment per regulations,” Haruka listed the repairs.

 

“All that in two weeks?” the foreman asked rhetorically, shaking his head. “Impossible, miss.”

 

Haruka frowned. “I don't see why not,” she said calmly. “Hull work and mechanical shouldn't take more than ten days, and the rest shouldn't take more than five. Why are you saying it is impossible?”

 

“Paint, miss,” he said. “I don't have enough marine paint to cover the bottom, let alone the rest. On top of that, have you left any time in your schedule for repairing rotten spots in the hull if we find them? Wood hulls take some time to patch up, and my main shipwright is out for the week with his family; some sort of medical thing. I didn't hear you list calking - planning to trust the sealant alone?” he asked.

 

“In point of fact, yes,” said Haruka. “We need the ship to make a supply run to the excavation site and bring back artifacts for out-shipping in two weeks. After that run, we can lay it up for a couple of months, if we have to, for a full re-work, but it has to be up and running for that run in two weeks,” she insisted.

 

“Don't see how it can be,” the man said. “What if the shafts or props are bent or out of balance?” he challenged.

 

“We will address that if it happens,” said Haruka, but I need you to get the boat in the works today,” she pressed.

 

“I don't think I can start on it until day after tomorrow at the earliest, miss,” the man began, “I got three fishing boats and a sailboat already scheduled, you see.”

 

“Do you have a deadline for those boats?” asked Haruka evenly.

 

“The fishing boats are rush jobs,” began the man, “because without the boats, the owners can't earn money.”

 

“And have they paid for the work?” pressed Haruka.

 

“That's why they're rush jobs, miss,” the man said, as if it were obvious, “so they can get back to work and pay me.”

 

Haruka reached into her front cargo pocket and pulled out a tightly-folded roll of the local currency. Practically shoving the roll under the man's nose, she slowly peeled off large-denomination bills. “I can pay you now,” said Haruka slowly, “in cash,” she added, a few more bills being peeled off, “but only if my boat gets what it needs now,” she hinted heavily. The man watched the bills.

 

“D-do you have the boat here?” he asked, swallowing.

 

“It's at the pier,” said Haruka, dropping the bills on the man's desk, and the keys to the boat on top of them. “I'll stop by this evening to see how far you have gotten on that list,” she said, tucking the bills away again. “I expect to be impressed,” added the woman as she turned and stepped toward the door, where Keitaro waited.

 

Leaving the shipyard behind them, they headed for the small room they shared with Nyamo to see how the girl was coming on packing materials. Keitaro had a question for his cousin. “Where did you get all that money, Haru?”

 

“Travelling is often expensive, Keitaro,” she shrugged. “It pays to be prepared, so I am.”

 

“Ok,” he replied. What is that supposed to mean? he wondered.

 

“What do you say to some lunch once we see how Nyamo is doing with packing material?” Haruka suggested. “Then, maybe a siesta before getting back to it,” she grinned.

 

“Fine with me,” Keitaro replied.

 

“Keitaro,” said Haruka, glancing at him, “aren't you forgetting something?”

 

Keitaro blinked. “What?” he wondered, mentally inventorying everything. Sighing, Haruka pulled his arm back around her waist.

 

“Much better,” she happily exhaled. Keitaro blushed slightly. This is good, he thought contentedly. A beautiful woman, no explosions, no random flights, just…peace, he mused. Ahead of them, he saw a slight form hurrying toward them, waving an arm.

 

“Nyamo!” he called back, waving with his free arm. The dark-skinned native girl came to a stop in front of them, smiling widely. Holding out her hands, she showed them some dark, stringy stuff.

 

“Coconut husks?” guessed Haruka. Nyamo nodded.

 

“That's pretty smart,” Keitaro praised her, smiling at her as he patted her head. “Can you get enough of it to fill those wood boxes?” he wondered. Nyamo nodded eagerly, holding up five fingers.

 

“Five days?” guessed Haruka, getting a toothy smile from the girl. “Excellent, Nyamo,” Haruka praised her as well, her hand joining Keitaro's on her head, patting and stroking her hair. “Hungry?” asked Haruka. Nyamo nodded.

 

“Well, I guess I should find you girls something to eat,” Keitaro said. Nyamo reached out and caught his hand, tugging on it.

 

“Looks like Nyamo has her own idea of where to eat,” Haruka laughed, catching Keitaro's other hand as the small girl led him off toward the edge of town. Life is good, thought Haruka, smiling.

 

-

 

“Maehara,” called her homeroom sensei, “stay a moment, please,” he requested. Biting back a sigh, Shinobu did as he requested, waving to a few classmates as they left.

 

“Yes, sensei?” asked the young domestic of the Hinata. I hope this won't take long; I want to get back home, she thought absently.

 

“I saw a notice for a national essay contest, and took the liberty of signing you up,” he smiled. Shinobu blinked.

 

“W-why?” she stammered. As if I don't have enough going on! she thought.

 

“Because, Maehara, when schools like Todai are looking at candidates, they are looking for more than just your entrance exam score,” lectured the man. “Having awards in scholastic and physical areas are crucial to being accepted. I have also made arrangements for you to join the softball team here,” he added. “It shouldn't be a problem for you to become the captain of the team before you apply to Todai, given your solid scores in physical education.”

 

“But I don't have time for a second club!” protested Shinobu. The school required every student to join one of the three dozen or so school clubs, and Shinobu had settled on joining the cooking club, since it was the least time-intensive club and also the easiest for her. There were only six other girls in the club. Well, six others and our `tester', Su, Shinobu amended the thought.

 

“So, just quit the cooking club,” the teacher replied. “That sort of club won't make you stand out among the applicants to Todai, but with both academic and physical achievements under your belt, you are sure to be accepted once you pass the entrance exam,” explained the man. Shinobu blinked at him.

 

“But, we don't even know if I will win the essay contest, and…!” protested Shinobu.

 

“Of course you will!” the man said. “I talked with the principal, and he said it was ok for us to use the classroom after you get done with softball club, so I can help you write the essay. It will be challenging, yes, but together, we can win - no question about it!” he boasted. Shinobu's mouth hung open.

 

“But…!” she protested. The teacher checked his watch.

 

“Tell you what, Maehara,” he said, rising from where he had sat on the corner of the desk, “I'll go with you and introduce you to the softball team right now. We can drop by the cooking club and let them know you are quitting on the way,” he added.

 

Shinobu felt an alien thing stirring inside her. It metamorphosed from the stunned anxiety in her stomach, rising up through her chest, gaining strength and spiraling toward ignition. Shinobu felt rage. I think I might understand what Naru-sempai feels, a tiny fragment of thought flickered through her mind, barely ahead of the flames of this strange, unfamiliar emotion. “You…” she began, her voice trembling slightly.

 

“Shinobu-chan!” came a boisterous voice from the door. Su had arrived. “Come on!” urged the princess, oblivious to the teacher. “We got to get back! Granny said she had something to tell us!” the girl grinned, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling her out of the room.

 

“W…wait!” protested the teacher. Su neither heard nor cared, and Shinobu was too busy keeping up with the energetic girl to bother answering. Though Shinobu cooled down on the trip back to the Hinata, she was still simmering when she and Su arrived. Greeting the others, Kaolla breezed on through the house, likely heading for her lab. Shinobu, on auto-pilot, went to change out of her uniform and begin her routine.

 

“Shinobu-chan?” came a voice from her door. Turning, she found Granny Hina standing just inside her door. Shinobu blinked, unsure of when the old woman had gotten there. She had stripped off her uniform, hung it up, and was standing, motionless, in her room in just her panties. Clearing her thoughts, she realized that she had removed her bra and discarded it without even realizing it. “What's wrong, Shinobu-chan?” asked Granny Hina, moving over to her and hugging the girl warmly.

 

“Granny,” Shinobu said, hugging the old woman hard. “It's…he….!” Shinobu shook her head, buried against Hina's shoulder. Hina soothed Shinobu.

 

“Just take your time and tell Granny what's wrong, Shinobu-chan,” she said, patting Shinobu's head and rubbing her back. After about ten minutes, Shinobu had settled down.

 

“My homeroom teacher signed me up for an essay contest without asking, is making me change my club, and wants me to stay after, even after club is over, and…!”

 

“Shh,” soothed Hina. Caressing the back of Shinobu's neck, the old woman once more calmed the girl down. “Tell you what, sweetie,” she said, gently guiding Shinobu onto her futon, “you take it easy today. No homework, no cooking, just relax and forget everything. Take a nap, then, after sunset, take a soak in the springs with the other girls, ok?” she ordered.

 

“But, I…” Shinobu began to protest.

 

“But nothing, sweetie,” Hina cut her protests off firmly. “My orders,” smiled the woman, bending down to kiss Shinobu's forehead. “Now, you take that nap,” she said caressing Shinobu's neck with a hand.

 

“I…I…” yawned Shinobu. Moments later, she was sleeping. Hina rose.

 

“Keep watch on her, Kuro-kun,” said Hina, spotting the black cat lurking in the corner of Shinobu's room. Exiting the room, she was just in time to catch the flying Su, who had gone looking for her best friend. Telling the girl that Shinobu was resting, she sent her off to find a hand of bananas Hina had hidden earlier.

 

“You know her weaknesses well, Hina-sama,” noted Tsuruko, who had been following Su down the hall.

 

“Oh, Su-chan isn't hard to understand,” Hina smiled. “Shinobu-chan is resting, Tsuruko-chan, and I do not wish her disturbed. See to it, will you?” assigned Hina. Tsuruko bowed.

 

“Yes, Hina-sama,” confirmed the samurai girl. “Trouble?” she hazarded. Hina pursed her lips.

 

“I don't know that it is necessarily trouble,” said Hina, “more like something of interest,” she murmured, moving off.

 

Making her way to Keitaro's room, she entered, finding Kanako sitting at her brother's desk, the account books for the Hinata open, a calculator, pad and pencil at hand. “Forget that for now, Kanako,” said Hina without preamble. “You have pressing business to attend to. Something that needs your unique skills,” said the old woman. Kanako immediately closed the books and turned to face Hina.

 

“What has come up, Granny?” asked the dark sister.

 

-

 

With a wordless sound, Shinobu opened her eyes. Blinking, she sat up. What was…? Oh, right, Granny Hina, recalled the girl. “Feeling better, meow?” came a voice from her waist. Looking down, she found herself looking into a pair of luminous yellow eyes, the rest of the cat lost in the shadows cast by the moonlight pouring in her windows; along with a cool breeze.

 

“Yes, Kuro,” Shinobu said, reaching down to stroke the cat's head, cheek and back. Kuro purred. What time is it? she wondered, glancing at her clock. Blinking, she nudged Kuro, the cat taking his time getting off her lap. “I have to fix supper!” she urged Kuro.

 

“Supper is already over, meow,” came the indifferent reply. “They put some aside for you, if you're hungry, meow,” added the cat. Shinobu blushed.

 

“I should have…” began the girl.

 

“No, meow,” disagreed Kuro, gracefully rearing up, his forepaws coming to rest between her breasts as his nose bumped her nose, the cat still purring. “Others did their share this time, meow,” he explained, daintily withdrawing his forepaws from her chest and stretching as only cats can. “Hungry, meow?”

 

“Yes,” Shinobu said, rising. She had started to slide her door open when Kuro asked another question.

 

“Clothes, meow?” Shinobu blinked, realizing that she was just wearing her panties. Blushing slightly, she grabbed her bath robe and slipped it on. Together, the two moved to the kitchen, finding a plate of food with her name on it. After a few minutes in the microwave, Shinobu was eating. Kuro sat in her lap, accepting the occasional tidbit.

 

“Oh, you are up, Shinobu,” came the voice of Motoko. Looking up, she saw the tall samurai girl smiling at her from the door to the kitchen. She was wearing her hakamas and gi, so Shinobu knew that she had been practicing. Motoko's long, raven's wing black hair was tied back in a pony tail. “Are you feeling ok?” asked Motoko, moving into the kitchen and touching Shinobu's forehead.

 

“I'm fine, Motoko-sempai,” she assured the older girl. “Just…nerves,” she added.

 

“You work far harder than you should, Shinobu,” Motoko said softly.

 

“But, I don't mind!” Shinobu immediately protested.

 

“Rather or not you mind is not the issue, Shinobu,” came the voice of Tsuruko from the doorway. The elder sister was clothed like her sister, her hair also tied back. “You have been shouldering a far heavier load than you should; or is fair and just,” added the elder Aoyama.

 

“It's not…!” began Shinobu, but Motoko touched her lips.

 

“Shinobu,” said the younger sister, “do you remember the meal we tried to prepare for you the first time you came here?” asked the sword-maiden. After a moment of recollection, Shinobu nodded. Motoko offered her a small smile. “It was like that all over again this evening.”

 

“And all because everyone,” Tsuruko stressed the word, “here has been taking your efforts for granted. While you may know that some of the girls can cook to one degree or another, you may not realize that none of them have bothered to improve or even maintain any skill they possessed due to over-reliance on your incomparable skill.”

 

“It's ok, really!” Shinobu assured the two sisters. Tsuruko met Motoko's eyes for a moment.

 

“No, Shinobu,” said the younger sister. “It is not ok,” said Motoko. “With what has been going on here of late, it has become apparent to us - those of us who live here - that we can't keep doing things the way we have been doing them.” Shinobu switched her uncertain gaze between the two sisters, a knot of worry forming in her stomach.

 

“But, what does that mean?” she asked softly. Without my duties here, I won't be able to pursue Keitaro! she thought, fighting back panic.

 

“It means, Shinobu-chan,” said Tsuruko, “that all of us must learn to pull our fair share,” stated the elder sister.

 

“I…see,” murmured Shinobu, looking at the table top. They are trying to squeeze me out, she thought unhappily. Not that I can't understand why they are doing it, but…!

 

“Bath, meow,” Kuro suggested, flexing his slim feline body in an way only a cat can to rub his jaw against her jaw. Shinobu couldn't help but smile.

 

“Leave the dishes,” Tsuruko said. “Kitsune will wash them,” added the elder Aoyama sister.

 

“Well, I guess…” Shinobu capitulated. Moving toward her room, Shinobu found herself being gently guided to the hot spring instead. “I need my basket,” she started to say. Motoko smiled at her.

 

“We can share,” said the younger sister. Shinobu allowed herself to be guided to the spring. Exiting the changing room, she found most of the residents in the spring already. Kuro gave her one last furry rub on her calf, then flowed up the wooden fence, cat-walked along the narrow top as easily as Shinobu walked on the stones surrounding the spring, and an easy leap carried him to the roof of the inn. Glancing upward, Shinobu spotted Shippu on the crown of the roof.

 

“Myu!”

 

Shinobu felt the negligible weight of Tama-chan land on her head. “Hello, Tama-chan,” she greeted the turtle.

 

“Myu,” replied the flying turtle. With greetings out of the way, the hot spring turtle jumped off her head, swooped once, and climbed toward the roof. Shinobu smiled as she rinsed off before stepping into the spring.

 

Most of the crew were there. Naru and Kitsune were sitting near the far end of the spring, talking quietly between themselves, Mutsumi was lounging near the side closest to the changing room, talking with Amalla. Sarah and Su were chattering animatedly in the far reaches of the spring; something about some new invention Su had that they wanted to test out. Of course, with Keitaro away right now, it is unlikely that they will find any volunteers, reflected Shinobu.

 

With the addition of herself and the Aoyama sisters, the only ones missing were Kanako and Granny. Neither of them had been around for a few hours. Shinobu closed her eyes, sighing as she felt the warm water of the spring go to work on her body. A hard, slick object bumped her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she found the half ton, fifteen foot bulk of Shiro before her, the crocodile having drifted over to her unnoticed - the quintessential skill of a crocodile. Slowly, she reached out and patted Shiro's blunt, hard snout, before applying a little pressure to push the seemingly-weightless bulk back toward the center of the spring. It's amazing what one can get used to, she thought absently.

 

“Shiro just wanted to see if you were feeling ok,” Amalla interjected.

 

“Yeah, Shinobu,” came Su's energetic voice, followed by the lithe blonde splashing over to her, waving an instrument, adorned with the familiar - and terrifying - three-eyed symbol of her homeland. “Want me to give you a scan?” asked the girl eagerly, grinning from ear to ear.

 

“No thanks, Su,” Shinobu hastily replied, raising her hands. Keitaro could probably survive a `scan' by something you made, but not me! she thought, though not without a bit of warmth at the thought behind the offered death. Su shrugged, tossing the device to the side of the spring even as she closed in on Shinobu.

 

“Then how about this?” offered the girl, kissing Shinobu on the lips. Shinobu blinked in surprise.

 

“Kaolla,” came Amalla's voice. Kaolla pulled back from the kiss.

 

“What?” asked the girl innocently. “She's going to be my wife,” pointed out the girl.

 

“That isn't a done deal yet,” replied Amalla dryly. “Are you feeling ok, Shinobu? We were told you were resting.”

 

“I'm fine,” Shinobu said, “just a bit stressed, I think,” she added. Every last girl in the spring turned to look at her.

 

“Something wrong, Shinobu?” asked Mutsumi, moving over to her and pulling her into a hug.

 

“Is something wrong at school?” asked Naru.

 

“Are the boys hassling you?” asked Kitsune, sipping sake.

 

“If those filthy, vile perverts are troubling you, I will teach them proper manners,” Motoko offered; perhaps a bit eagerly.

 

“Even if it is Keitaro?” asked Tsuruko blandly.

 

“That's different,” Motoko said, “if it's Keitaro…” she stopped suddenly. Shinobu couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped her.

 

“If it were Keitaro, she wouldn't mind, would you, Shinobu-chan?” opinioned Amalla.

 

“No,” said the girl softly, smiling.

 

“So, what's got you stressed, then?” asked Mutsumi, still hugging the smaller girl close to her chest. Shinobu considered telling them about the issues at school. Ultimately, she chose not to.

 

“Just…” she made a general arm movement, indicating everything going on at the Hinata. None of the girls needed any more help in determining what she meant.

 

“Yeah, I think we are all a bit stressed about that,” murmured Kitsune. Silence fell for nearly ten minutes.

 

“Speaking of things,” Tsuruko said after she couldn't stand the silence any longer, “we should decide on what each of us will be doing.” The other women exchanged glances.

 

“I think dusting is best suited to me,” Kitsune said slowly.

 

“Wouldn't it be best for Shinobu to choose which of us should learn her skills?” suggested Naru. “I'm sure that any of us could do the jobs, but each of us probably has a job or two we are better at than the others, and Shinobu would know best who to train for what position.”

 

Shinobu felt her shoulders begin to tremble. They are trying to push me out, she thought, feeling a little sick. Even Naru-sempai! Mutsumi felt the girl tremble, and looked at Shinobu's stricken expression.

 

“Shinobu,” she said, pulling Shinobu's face to her impressive breasts, “it isn't like you think it is,” assured the busty Okinawan girl. “We aren't trying to take anything away from you; we just want to help lighten you load so you don't work - or worry! - yourself to death.”

 

“I…I'm fine! You don't need to…!” began Shinobu.

 

“No, you are not `fine', Shinobu,” said Motoko firmly. “For years, we have been putting an unfair workload on you. It is time for us to correct that behavior.”

 

“I won't let you win without a fight!” yelled Shinobu, jerking to her feet, face red. “I might not have a prior claim, or be as developed as the rest of you, but I love Keitaro and I won't give up!” she declared. The chirping of crickets was the only sound for several minutes after her shouting. It was all but entirely unheard of for the girl to yell; let alone like that. She was breathing hard, her fists clenched.

 

“We know, Shinobu,” said Mutsumi, easing her back down into the spring - and into her hug.

 

“And we aren't asking you to, either,” said Naru quietly. God knows, I know how she feels, thought the brunette. As her therapy sessions continued, she was not liking what she saw when she thought back on the last five years. Even before that, all the way back to just after those couple of summers I spent here when I was five or so, it's just so… she forced the thoughts aside for now. Next session, I guess, she told herself.

 

“Then why do you want to take my work away?” asked Shinobu. “It's the only time I can spend with Keitaro without interruption,” she added in a whisper. The other girls - especially Naru, Motoko and Kitsune - shifted uncomfortably. Mutsumi was the only full-time resident who didn't. When there was work to be done, the only resident sure to be there was Shinobu.

 

“We aren't trying to take your work away,” repeated Tsuruko, “but rather share it evenly among us. It isn't fair to put the majority of the work on you.”

 

“But! Naru-sempai has to study for her classes, Motoko-sempai has to practice, Kitsune-sempai has her writing to do, Mutsumi-sempai has classes and helps out at the teahouse, Su and Sarah…are busy with other things,” she said judiciously. I wouldn't trust them to do any of the chores, she left unsaid. “I'm the one with the most free time, and work is the only means I have of paying rent, so…!”

 

“You are in school yourself, Shinobu,” said Naru. “And a pretty tough one, too,” she added.

 

“It wouldn't kill me to spend an hour or two helping out,” Kitsune said. “Might feel like it,” she added slyly, managing to get a small smile from the domestic heart of the Hinata.

 

“I…do not possess the skills I should,” said Motoko quietly. “I cannot be a complete warrior - or woman - without knowledge of more than the sword.”

 

“Heya, I can build a machine to do the laundry!” Kaolla eagerly volunteered.

 

“No, but thanks all the same!” chorused the girls. Su shrugged, as if it were their loss not to accept her offer, and went back to playing with Sarah, the two splashing about.

 

“Shinobu-chan,” Tsuruko said, looking right into Shinobu's eyes, “you are the uncontested master of domestic skills. And none of us doubt your dedication to Keitaro, either. We merely wish to divide the chores fairly, and to insure that Keitaro's own workload does not increase in the event that you should fall ill or be away from the Hinata for a period of time,” the eldest Aoyama explained.

 

“You mean you need to learn the skills of a wife,” Amalla said nonchalantly.

 

“I am ashamed to admit it, but there is some measure of truth in your words,” Tsuruko replied evenly. Shinobu's emotions were in an uproar. That is what I fear most! she screamed silently. Even knowing that, she still found she wanted to do whatever she could to help Keitaro. But, even if that means giving them the only advantage I have? Can I do that? Should I do that? she asked herself.

 

“Looking to strengthen your own stand, eh?” Kitsune said, eyeing the two Aoyama sisters.

 

“We merely seek to be prepared,” Tsuruko replied calmly.

 

“Sneaky, aren't you?” Kitsune said snarkily.

 

“If anyone is sneaky, it is Su,” Motoko said. “She tricked Keitaro into agreeing to that contract; though I must admit that tricking Keitaro is not so difficult,” added the younger Aoyama.

 

“I didn't trick him,” protested Kaolla.

 

“Oh? Didn't you trick Shinobu as well?” Amalla asked her younger sister. Kaolla pouted.

 

“I didn't trick her either! Tell them, Shinobu,” she appealed to her friend. Shinobu blinked.

 

“Well, I didn't really know what she was talking about,” Shinobu offered.

 

“Which is the same as tricking someone,” Kitsune insisted.

 

“No, it isn't,” Kaolla insisted.

 

“Why did you even do this in the first place, Kaolla?” wondered Amalla. Kaolla smiled.

 

“Because Keitaro and Motoko are my two favorite people, and Shinobu is my best friend,” said the younger Su sister.

 

“What does that make me?” asked Sarah, grinning.

 

“You're my other best friend,” Kaolla answered innocently. “Why wouldn't I want to marry them?” wondered the Molmol girl.

 

“But, Keitaro already has an obligation,” Tsuruko pointed out.

 

“To the Aoyama?” challenged Naru, “maybe. But no more so than to Mutsumi. After all, Granny said that the plan was to have Keitaro marry Mutsumi before that scroll surfaced, didn't she?” And that is to say nothing of my situation, she thought.

 

“I was looking forward to marrying Kei-kun,” Mutsumi smiled.

 

“So am I!” laughed Su gleefully.

 

“If Keitaro were to choose me, I would have no objections,” Motoko asserted.

 

“But would you make a good wife?” asked Kitsune.

 

“I would do all in my power to be a proper wife,” Motoko said stiffly. “Which I suspect is more than could be said for yourself,” added the girl.

 

“Stop it!” came Shinobu's voice. Once more, they all looked to the source of the yell. Shinobu was trembling, but her lips were tightly pressed together. Tears were in the corners of her eyes, but were unshed. “Can't you think of Keitaro before yourselves?!” she demanded hotly. “Or do you not care about him, so long as you get what you want for yourselves?!”

 

“Shinobu,” began Amalla, but the girl shook her head.

 

“No! Not once have any of you thought about Keitaro's feelings. Not once! Even now, as you vie for position, and plot ways to be the one to marry him, none of you are thinking of him at all! To Motoko-sempai and Tsuruko-san, he is a means to cleanse their past mistake. To Su, he is an experiment subject that doesn't break. To Naru-sempai, he is a man she can't commit to. To Kitsune-sempai he is a meal ticket to an easy life. To me, he is the man I love.”

 

“He's more to me - to us! - than that, Shinobu!” chided Mutsumi. “We all love him. Do we not?” she asked the group at large. Slowly, they all nodded.

 

“Then why aren't you acting like it?” demanded Shinobu. “Keitaro told us that we should decide among ourselves who he would marry. Do you understand why he said that?” she asked the group. Not waiting for an answer, she went on. “Because he has always put us, our needs, our happiness, before himself.” Shinobu sighed, suddenly tired again.

 

“We owe it to him to think of him,” she whispered.

 

“But, we can't all marry him,” pointed out Tsuruko. “Say we decided that he should marry Mutsumi. Then what about Naru? Or if Naru were selected, what about Su?” asked Kitsune.

 

“That's why he told us that we all had to agree,” Shinobu said quietly. I don't think we can, she thought sadly.

 

“Well, if we can't agree on who should marry him, then we must all marry him,” Mutsumi said, smiling easily.

 

“That's crazy,” Naru said dismissively. Mutsumi hummed.

 

“Is it?” she asked. Looking at Amalla, she asked a question. “Amalla, is there anything in Molmolian law about marriages overseas?” asked the Turtle Clan priestess.

 

“Molmolian law does not recognize the validity of any marriage outside our borders,” Amalla said. “That is why Kaolla's little agreement is such a pain,” added the older sister.

 

“And Molmolian law also allows for multiple partners in a marriage, doesn't it?” Mutsumi went on. Amalla nodded.

 

“Has to, because of the shortage of males,” she shrugged.

 

“What are you getting at, Mutsumi?” wondered Naru. Mutsumi smiled a beautiful smile.

 

“By the laws of my clan,” she went on as if Naru hadn't spoken, “I must be married in the temple on Okinawa. The ceremony is the old ceremony; binding to us, but unrecognized by Japanese law,” said the girl.

 

Kitsune had a thoughtful look on her face. Tsuruko was obviously considering something as well. Naru was looking at the other girls. Something about what Mutsumi was saying was sort of knocking around in the back of her head, but at the moment, she couldn't see the result.

 

“That…” breathed Tsuruko,

 

“Could be…” murmured Kitsune,

 

“A solution,” finished Mutsumi calmly, smiling at Shinobu.