Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 14

Slamming the door to his small apartment, the teacher cursed his day. It had been a bad one. The administrators at Todai had refused to look into the matter of this Keitaro Urashima monster any further, and when he had demanded that they protect their school from such a criminal by expelling him, they had had the gall to have him removed from the campus. And to add insult to injury, the security people who dragged him from the administrative offices had done so in full view of the students and faculty of Todai.

 

“Like I was some common trouble-maker,” he snarled, grabbing a beer from his mini-refrigerator. Guzzling it down, he tossed it and grabbed a fresh one. Struggling out of his suit, he sat down at his tiny desk in a corner of his living room, in front of his older computer. Turning it on, he focused his thoughts.

 

His day had not improved any after being ejected from Todai. When he returned to his car, he saw that the entire rear quarter panel had been caved in like he had hit a concrete pillar or rammed a tank. He had of course called the police to report his car had been vandalized, but the police had been far less than helpful. After wasting an hour and half of his time, they had reported that the security camera that covered the visitors' parking lot at Todai showed that his car had been damaged when it arrived. He had demanded to see the footage, only to find that the camera showed his car had arrived with the quarter smashed in.

 

Even worse, the cops had hassled him about driving around with a broken taillight. He had tried to explain that he didn't know it was malfunctioning, as he hadn't been in any wrecks. He had said that other than an old woman running into the road in front of him, he hadn't even come close to anything. In retrospect, he knew he shouldn't have said that, since the cops were interested in that remark, and he had wasted another hour in a police box, being accused of all sorts of things. Eventually, though, they had released him, with a warning about being careful.

 

Angrily pounding back the second beer, he tossed the empty aside, taking out the folder tucked beside his computer and flipping it open. Because the police had held him up so long, he had been late getting back to the school. Arriving, he had been told that the dean wanted to speak with him. He had been called on the rug for leaving school without notice and for the incident with the student in the faculty room. Also, he had been questioned about inappropriate requests of the school office, involving student folders.

 

“As if I would leave my Maehara's folder in that zoo,” he muttered, scanning pages so familiar that he had long since memorized the contents of the folder. Getting up, he started to get a third beer, but stopped, rummaging in the cheap cupboard for a moment before pulling out a half-bottle of vodka. Grabbing a chipped shot glass, he returned to the desk. Scanning the pages, he formulated his next move.

 

“If the school won't do anything, then maybe it is time for Maehara's parents to be appraised of the danger their daughter is in,” he muttered, opening his word processing program and beginning to type a letter to the parents of his best student. Editing and polishing took him another three hours; and the rest of the vodka. Satisfied, he printed out the letters and put them in envelopes to be delivered to the addresses of the separated parents.

 

Outside his apartment, a slim, dark girl moved slowly along the street, her eyes on the apartment window. Pausing by his car, she glanced at the license plate, the VIN and briefly examined the caved-in quarter. Smiling slightly, she slipped up to the front door of the apartment, listening carefully. As she listened, she delicately - skillfully - withdrew some mail that wasn't quite far enough into the mail slot, swiftly flipping through the items. Selecting a couple, she pulled out a thin piece of metal and silently opened the envelopes, scanning the contents before putting it all back as it was and moving away. At the sidewalk, a large-eared black shadow flowed onto her shoulder, rubbing his jaw against her jaw as he purred.

 

“I don't like him, meow,” said the cat.

 

“Me either,” murmured the girl. How dare he?! she thought angrily. I will teach him a lesson in destroying someone! she promised.

 

“I'm hungry, meow,” opinioned her cat. Kanako smiled.

 

“As am I,” she replied. “Let's go home and get something to eat. I need to speak with a few of the girls about a certain matter, as well,” she murmured.

 

-

 

“We're back!” called out Hina, leading Shinobu through the front door to the Hinata.

 

“Welcome back, Hina! Shinobu-chan!” came the amused voice of Mutsumi's mother. “How was your day, Shinobu?” she asked, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

 

“It was wonderful,” blushed Shinobu.

 

“What's for supper? We're hungry!” Hina cackled.

 

“I'll fix…” began Shinobu, only to have Missus Otohime shake her head.

 

“No need,” she said, beckoning them into the kitchen. On the table were two covered dishes, waiting for them. “While I doubt that it is as good as you could make it, it is pretty tasty,” smiled the older domestic.

 

“Let's eat!” Hina said, falling on one of the plates like a ravenous wolf. Shinobu attacked the second plate.

 

“This is good,” she said sincerely, smiling at the mother of Mutsumi. “Did you make this?” she asked.

 

“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” the woman replied, covering her mouth with her hand, “I just gave some pointers to the girls, and they did the work.”

 

“Naru-sempai?” guessed Shinobu, looking at the food, clearly judging it against what she knew of the other girls' cooking ability.

 

“No, she and my daughter only got back a half hour ago,” replied Otohime. “The Aoyama sisters did most of the work, with a little help from Kitsune,” she answered. Shinobu frowned ever so slightly.

 

“I see,” she murmured.

 

“Seconds!” Hina demanded happily, holding out her empty plate. “And is there any of that fruit tea that we had a while back left?” she asked.

 

“Of course, Hina. And there is cake for dessert as well,” the Okinawan said, taking the plate and filling it again from the covered pots on the stove top.

 

“Cake?” wondered Shinobu. Only she and Keitaro were masters of the dessert in the Hinata, with the other girls being below average in that area.

 

“Yes,” giggled Missus Otohime. “I made a Fallen Angel cake; Mutsumi does love it so,” smiled the girl's mother. Hina cackled.

 

“She's not the only one,” agreed Granny Hina. Shinobu was eating steadily, her eyes thoughtful. “All the chores done?” asked Hina.

 

“Yes, as well as some that had been waiting for a chance to be completed,” confirmed the older Otohime. “Shinobu-chan, do be careful; the hallway was stripped and waxed this afternoon,” she admonished Shinobu.

 

“Yes, I will be,” Shinobu said.

 

“Seconds?”

 

“No, thank you,” Shinobu said, bowing, “but I would like to try some cake, if I could,” she added.

 

“Of course you can, Shinobu-chan,” assured Mutsumi's mother, smoothly swapping the empty plate for a plate with a rather impressive slice of cake on it. Another one landed in front of Hina. “I put the rest in the refrigerator, so feel free to snack on it.”

 

“Count on it,” Hina said between bites. Watching Shinobu's reaction to the cake, Hina smiled around her own bites of cake. In short order, the cake was consumed, and the tea drank. “Now, off to the spring with you, Shinobu-chan,” ordered Granny Hina.

 

“Once I wash the dishes,” Shinobu promised, rising. Hina clucked her tongue at the girl.

 

“No, now,” she said firmly. “We'll do the dishes, you go to the spring.”

 

“I…” Shinobu began. Hina was having none of it.

 

“No arguing, Shinobu-chan,” the woman said, ending the conversation. Sighing, Shinobu did as ordered.

 

“Yes, Granny Hina,” she said obediently. By the door to the dining room, she started to pick up her bags from the day's shopping.

 

“Leave those there, honey,” Hina said without looking, “go directly to the hot springs; I'll put those in your room.”

 

“Yes,” Shinobu said, moving straight for the spring. Hina rarely ordered any of the girls around, but when she did, it was law. And honestly, she was looking forward to a relaxing soak in the soothing waters of the spring. Granny Hina is much more energetic and spry than I thought! Shinobu mused, feeling the ache in her muscles from a day of nearly non-stop moving.

 

In the changing room, she saw that several baskets were full. Stripping off her clothes, she set her phone on top of her clothes, smiling as she caressed the phone. Moving into the bath area, she found the entire group already soaking. Looking particularly tired were the Aoyama sisters.

 

“Shinobu!” called Su, grinning. “I finished my Mecha-Tama twenty seven point two revised in class today!” she shared. Shinobu blinked.

 

“Um, that's…nice,” she replied carefully. Wasn't that the one with the missile rack and laser cannons? she tried to recall.

 

“I can't wait for Keitaro to come back so I can test it,” the girl eagerly continued.

 

“There will be no more testing your inventions on Keitaro!” Shinobu shot back hotly. Su blinked at the tone of the girl's words.

 

“I agree,” said Motoko.

 

“But who else…?” pouted Su.

 

“Maybe you should test your inventions on a more appropriate target,” Naru suggested, sitting side by side with Mutsumi. She had a troubled, distracted look on her face, while Mutsumi was smiling happily.

 

“But, Keitaro is the only one who can survive a test,” Kaolla pouted.

 

“And that doesn't tell you something, Kaolla?” interjected Amalla. Su smiled widely.

 

“It tells me he's the perfect husband for me!” she said eagerly. Amalla scowled; and she wasn't alone in this. Shinobu rinsed off and slipped into the water.

 

“Why not test your inventions on some enemy army or something?” suggested Naru.

 

“Hmm…” Su hummed, clearly thinking about it.

 

“On second thought…” Kitsune said, “why not just put the testing on hiatus?”

 

“I guess I could do that,” Su said casually.

 

“So, how was your day?” asked Kitsune. Before Shinobu could answer, she felt a ripple of water next to her, and found Kanako next to her.

 

“More importantly,” the dark girl said, “did the chores you were tasked with get done?” she asked directly, looking squarely at the Aoyama sisters. This was something that Shinobu wanted to know about, and as smooth as that, the question of the Shinobu's day was dismissed.

 

-

 

“Na-chan? Something wrong?” asked Mutsumi as she and Naru were preparing for bed in Naru's room. The brunette blinked, having been lost in thought.

 

“N…no,” she replied, trying to push the thoughts from her mind.

 

“Is it about what happened in the session today?” Mutsumi asked calmly. Naru blushed. “Do you want to talk about it?” asked the bustier girl, her voice low, calm and warm.

 

“Not really,” Naru said, looking over at the Okinawan. Mutsumi and she had come from the spring, Mutsumi not bothering with a robe, and her towel haphazardly clinging to her curvy frame. Naru had been distracted, deep in thought, and had not realized that her robe was wide open. Shinobu had asked for help with some homework, so Naru and Mutsumi had helped her with a paper she had due the next week, the domestic girl spending about an hour in Naru's room before heading off to bed, her paper complete.

 

Naru had looked over her Todai homework, but hadn't gotten anything done. Mutsumi had steered the girl toward bed, Naru still pre-occupied with something. Now, the Okinawan was lying on Naru's futon, holding open the cover for her friend. Naru slipped off her robe, covering her mouth as she yawned in route to the light switch. Turning off the light, Naru moved over to her futon, kneeling before joining Mutsumi.

 

For her part, Mutsumi seemed perfectly happy and content, unbothered by anything as she snuggled up close to her friend. Before she knew it, she was hugging Mutsumi, her head resting against the full breasts of the other woman. Even when she was sure that Mutsumi was asleep, Naru found herself unable to sleep, her mind still endlessly running in circles.

 

The session had started out normally; well, as soon as the doctor was introduced to Mutsumi. It was clear that the changing companions to his patient was making him both curious and nervous. Still, the session had been good, Naru feeling that she was actually making progress as she didn't even have to concentrate very hard to quell her bouts of rage. The doctor had even pushed her buttons a bit during the session, and she had maintained control the entire time.

 

In fact, she was congratulating herself on a perfect session when the doctor had unexpectedly asked her how she felt about Mutsumi. Naru had been blindsided by that question, as it seemed to come out of the blue. She had stammered and tried to evade the question, but the doctor had pushed the issue. He had often discussed her relationship with the other girls in the Hinata with her, and Naru had been a bit uneasy with the direction the sessions took when he did that.

 

Mutsumi had unexpectedly joined in the session, perpetually sunny and upbeat. The doctor had tried to get her to sit it out, but a casual comment about the relationship between herself, Naru and Keitaro had grabbed the doctor's attention. Seizing the opportunity, he had attacked three of Naru's biggest issues with a vengeance, using this unusual woman as a therapy tool.

 

Just before the session ended, the doctor had asked Naru what the first impulse was when she looked at Mutsumi. Naru had done as asked, looking at Mutsumi. The girl was wearing one of her dresses, and a cute hat that went with it. Looking at her sitting delicately in the chair by the door, Naru said aloud her first thought. “Kiss her.”

 

An instant later, she had blushed and tried to stammer out a rationalization, but the doctor hadn't let her backtrack. Mutsumi had not reacted apart from a giggle and a breathy “why, thank you, Na-chan!” When the doctor had asked the newcomer what she thought of Naru's admission, Mutsumi had smiled at Naru and said she wanted to kiss Na-chan as well. To Naru's horror, the doctor had invited her to do just that, and Mutsumi had immediately risen, stepped over to Naru, and kissed her.

 

The kiss hadn't been a chaste peck on the cheek. It wasn't even an all-business kiss on the lips. It had been a soft, loving, unhurried deep French kiss, Mutsumi holding Naru's face gently in her hands as she kissed the younger girl, her tongue slipping into Naru's mouth. When she released her, Naru was beet red, unable to talk, and her nipples had been prominently visible, erect beneath her top. The doctor had called the end of the session and Naru had been lead away by Mutsumi.

 

Ever since then, Naru couldn't think of anything else. She didn't even remember riding the train back to the Hinata, walking into the house, sitting in the spring or helping Shinobu with her homework. Her mind kept returning to the kiss in the psychiatrist's office. Lying beside the girl, feeling her warm, soft body tight to her own, Naru couldn't sleep because of that incident. “Do I like girls?” she murmured aloud.

 

“I think so,” came the unexpected voice of Mutsumi. Naru flinched.

 

“But, I like guys!” she insisted, feeling her face color.

 

“So do I,” agreed Mutsumi calmly, her hand stroking Naru's unbound hair.

 

“But, the kiss…” Naru mumbled. Mutsumi giggled softly.

 

“I liked that as well,” she shared. “When we were young, you would kiss Kei-kun and I equally, you know,” Mutsumi reminded her.

 

“But, those kisses don't count!” insisted Naru. Mutsumi hummed.

 

“And then there were the kisses the first time we met up again after so long,” Mutsumi reminded her. Naru had been trying not to think about that. I liked those kisses, as well, she recalled.

 

“Keitaro and I made out a lot, and I got excited when we did,” she insisted. But, when Mutsumi kissed me, my nipples snapped erect and by the time she let go, my panties were damp, Naru left unsaid.

 

“Mm,” Mutsumi hummed. “I get excited when I kiss Kei-kun or you. You seem to be the same way,” she suggested.

 

“I…I'm not,” Naru insisted. In her mind, she heard the doctor's voice reminding her to deal with her issues rather than deny them. So, she forced herself to examine her feelings. Minutes passed. During that time, Mutsumi kept stroking Naru's hair and back, making soothing sounds. “Maybe I am,” breathed Naru. But, if I am, then…her thoughts ground to a halt. Then what? she wondered. Nothing came after the `then'. “Mutsumi?”

 

“Na-chan?”

 

“If I am, then what?”

 

“Then what, what?” countered Mutsumi. Naru frowned, her face hidden in Mutsumi's cleavage. “You are what you are, Na-chan, and no one here judges you by such things,” Mutsumi said, hands still stroking Naru's back and sides. “Certainly Kei-kun and I won't,” she whispered to Naru, kissing the girl's forehead. Unbidden, a hazy memory of exactly the same thing happening when she was a kid came to her. The memory came with a warm, comfortable feeling that spread from her heart outward, and before she knew it, she was smiling in her sleep, Mutsumi's hand cupping her firm rear as the Okinawan girl smiled in the dark, swiftly joining her Na-chan in sleep.

 

-

 

“How's it looking, Kei?” called Haruka, waving an arm. Keitaro checked the sheet on his clipboard.

 

“Looks like we're on schedule for the gross work, but none of the smaller stuff has been looked at. I don't think it will get done by the time the last of the supplies arrive,” he called back. Haruka was standing atop their ship, which was out of the water, five shipwrights working on the hull and mechanicals.

 

“Yeah, figured that that might be the case,” Haruka sighed. Nimble as a squirrel, she scampered down the rope ladder that gave access to the deck of the dry-docked ship, landing easily next to Keitaro. Tossing her head, she led her lover toward the office of the shipyard's manager.

 

Keitaro had been getting a very useful instructional course in logistics management, business negotiations and supply chain fundamentals from Haruka. He had not been surprised that his cousin was a master at these arts, but he had been surprised at how well she taught them. None of the courses at Todai can come close to her for learning about the aspects of archeology that you never think about, he marveled. “We're going to be doing some the stuff ourselves, aren't we?” he guessed. Haruka nodded.

 

“No choice, really,” she said. “But because we are going to have to pick up some of the work load, we have to re-negotiate the price with the manager,” the woman said. “Running a efficient dig is only partly about archeology. And if you plan to learn as much as you can from a dig, you have to run the supporting infrastructure as efficiently and smoothly as you can. Which means not wasting time or money, space or material, while insuring a dependable and timely transfer schedule.”

 

“Right,” Keitaro nodded. It made perfect sense when she explained things like that. And seeing her work showed him that he was still very much the green horn at this. He was pretty sure that even Seta wasn't in the same league as her. Haruka smiled at him.

 

“While I had hoped not to have to, if you draw a line through the bottom third of the secondary items on the list, you will see what we will be doing, and you will see that all the items are well within our capabilities,” she continued her lesson. “From your time in the Hinata, you have honed most of the skills you will need, and I can show you the rest.”

 

Doing as she instructed, he realized that it was, indeed, mostly stuff he had done in the Hinata before. Re-wiring the running lights and gauges were well-known from repairing the damage done by Su or one of her inventions, basic mechanical work was familiar from repairing the pumps and regulator junctions for the hot springs, stripping and sealing wood and metal were familiar from repairing the aftermath of Shinmei-ryu strikes or a Naru attack. Everything is dual-use, indeed, he mused, recalling something Haruka had said right at the start of her instructional course.

 

Some of the items were outside his experience, but he was certain that Haruka could do it, since she was totally optimistic about their skills. Looking up at Haruka, he found himself smiling. Haruka was in shorts and a bikini top today, her boots replaced with a pair of extremely-well-worn sneakers and a bandana tied around her hair. A leather thong around her neck supported a small charm that looked to be carved from jade or emerald, and a pair of wrap-around sunglasses covered her eyes. Her belt supported her standard site gear, and her watch was secured to a belt loop.

 

“Hey, manager,” she called out, pounding on the corrugated metal that served as his door skin. Shoving it open, she moved inside, pushing her sunglasses up to sit on her bandana-covered head. The manager was sitting at his crude desk, going over papers.

 

“Ah, miss Urashima,” he smiled at her.

 

“Cut the shit,” barked Haruka, “you are behind on our boat, and we'll miss our deadline if this keeps up.”

 

“I'm going as fast as I can,” protested the man.

 

“I'm not interested in how fast you are going,” Haruka interrupted him, “I'm interested in you staying on schedule. You were paid in cash, up front, for this job. Why are you falling behind schedule?” she demanded.

 

“Well, some of the material needed has been slow arriving, and one of my workers is out on family leave,” the man began, sweating.

 

“Not my problem,” Haruka said. “We are a week away from our departure date, and the boat is nine days behind schedule. That is unacceptable.”

 

“What can I do? There is no way to make up the time, and a delay of two days is…” the manager protested.

 

“Two days is two days over contract,” Haruka said coldly. “Because we can't miss the deadline, there is no choice but to do some of the list ourselves, so the boat will be ready.”

 

“Ah! A splendid idea,” the manager seized the lifeline. “I did warn that the work load was too great for the schedule, did I not?” he reminded her. Haruka offered him a thin smile.

 

“And yet, you accepted payment up front,” she nailed him down. “Since we're going to have to do some of the work ourselves, you will be breaking the contracted terms, and subject to penalties.” The manager didn't like that idea at all.

 

“But miss Urashima!” he protested.

 

“Spent the money already, did you?” leered Haruka, eyes cold. “That's not good business practice, you know,” she lectured him. “I don't waste money paying someone to do something when they don't do it, so Keitaro and I will be penalizing you the hourly rate you charged me for each job we do. We will be starting at the bottom of the list, and working our way up. Each job undone by the launch date will be penalized by per-job charge.”

 

The manager was pale and bathed in sweat now. From the way that his hands twitched, he was clearly trying to figure up what he stood to lose from this. Haruka cut him off. “I anticipate that all the jobs will be done by our launch date,” she said firmly, “but the more work that Keitaro and I have to do, the greater the penalty will be. And as I paid cash, I will expect the penalty to be paid in cash as well,” she added.

 

“O…of course,” the manager swallowed roughly. Haruka nodded her head.

 

“So we understand each other,” she said, turning for the door. Once outside, she stretched her arms over her head. “Let's get some brunch, Kei,” she suggested, smiling at him. “We are going to be busy,” she added unhappily. Keitaro wasn't that happy with it either, as the two had almost been honeymooning between overseeing the supply mission. Nyamo had likewise been enjoying the honeymoon feel to their stay in town.

 

As the group ate lunch, Keitaro remarked on that. Haruka grinned at him. “I'd say she has been enjoying it,” agreed the woman, “but is it me, or is she beginning to act like she is getting the itch to sail off again?” Keitaro considered that.

 

“I hate to say it, but you are probably right,” he sighed. “She's been looking at the horizon more and more, and she has that look in her eye she had when she sailed off that first time, too,” mused the young man. Haruka studied her lover.

 

“Sad?”

 

Keitaro frowned. “Well, maybe a little bit,” he admitted. “I had hoped she would come visit us at the Hinata, but Nyamo-chan is a free spirit, so it feels good to know that she hasn't changed, you know?” he asked in turn. Haruka nodded.

 

“Nyamo is a very rare sort of girl, Keitaro,” she agreed. Biting into her breaded fish and lemon juice, Haruka looked out at the mid-morning sun on the rough town, the ocean turning from green-blue to deep blue beyond the end of town. “I'm a little sad to think that she's not coming back with us, too,” she admitted. Keitaro blinked.

 

“You are?” he marveled. Haruka nodded.

 

“Yeah,” confirmed the woman, “she's a nice girl. But it's probably for the best, given what is going on at home right now,” Haruka said softly. Keitaro had actually managed to forget about what waited for them at the Hinata. Seeing the look in his eyes, Haruka reached over and squeezed his hand. “Sorry,” she apologized, “let's just focus on the here and now for the moment, Kei,” she suggested. Keitaro smiled at her.

 

“It's fine, Haru,” he assured her, interlacing his fingers with her own. “I told you, whatever they decide is ok with me. I'm more worried about you,” he murmured. Haruka shook her head.

 

“Don't be,” she said. “Remember, I told you that I would always be there for you, whatever way it turns out. Married or not, you can always count on me. Ok, Kei?” she smiled. Keitaro smiled back.

 

“Thanks, Haru,” he replied. Minutes went by, the two eating their food in comfortable silence. As the last of the food disappeared, Keitaro asked Haruka a question that he had occasionally wondered about, but never got around to asking before. “Hey, Haru?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You said you would be there for me married or not. Do you think you will get married?” he wondered. He knew his fate was sealed, though it wasn't the marriage that scared him; just the uncertainty of which girl would emerge the victor. Haruka, though was a different matter.

 

“No,” said Haruka, not even an instant's hesitation in her reply. “Christmas cake comments be damned, I'm not marrying anyone since I can't marry you,” she replied calmly. Standing, she dropped some money on the rickety table in one of the small mom-and-pop diners in the town and took Keitaro's hand in her own, heading for the shipyard.

 

“So,” Keitaro said slowly, “what are we going to start on?” he wondered. Haruka glanced at the clipboard.

 

“Regardless of what I told him, we are going to be working from the middle of the short list,” she said. “Wiring the controls and lights, integrating the GPS and radio, replacing the fuel line and filters and replacing the broken cargo decking wood comes first. Since we are doing the work, I want to put in some cleats and non-skid in the cargo area, and we should be able to whip up some enclosures for the GPS and radio gear.”

 

“Ok,” Keitaro nodded. “We working together or…?”

 

“Together, Kei,” Haru said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him to her side for a moment. “Always together.”