Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 15

“What's that?”

 

Shinobu blinked, turning to look at Akiko. “What are you talking about?” wondered the petite girl, lost. The pair were in the locker room, changing for PE. Around them, the other girls from their class chatted and gossiped and ebbed and flowed.

 

“What do you mean, `what?'” Akiko said, pointing to the slim mass of Shinobu's new cell phone, tucked into the small shelf on the door of her locker. “So you finally got a phone?” Akiko asked. She herself had a cell phone, though it was a base model. Shinobu's was clearly a lot higher up the phone food chain.

 

“Um, yeah,” Shinobu said, blushing slightly.

 

“Well, give me your number!” Akiko begged. Shinobu did as asked, entering Akiko's number in her own phone. Looking at the sleek, capable phone in Shinobu's hand, Akiko was awed. “Wow! Is there anything that thing can't do?” she breathed reverently. Her best friend laughed self-consciously.

 

“Um, not that I know of,” she said self-deprecatingly, “but I am still learning how to use all the different features.” Putting her phone back, Shinobu resumed changing for her class. Stripping off her skirt, she heard Akiko giggle. “What now?” wondered Shinobu.

 

“You bought new panties,” Akiko noted. Shinobu glanced down at the lace and silk clinging to her hips.

 

“I guess,” she shrugged, slipping out of her bra and skinning off her panties. Pulling out her swimsuit, she stepped into it, pulling it up before shrugging into the top. With her school being a prestigious college-prep school, she was luckily free of the `school swimsuit curse'. The school mandated a one-piece, racer-back suit in black or dark blue, no thong backs, but other than that, pretty much it was the student's choice. No name tags on the front, no low-hipped grade-school fetish wear for her. Her suit was a clean-lined royal navy blue job that Kitsune and Naru had helped her pick out. The bottom was high-hipped without being French-cut, and while the back of the suit was far, far from a thong, it wasn't a full either, showing off the shapely crease of her rear.

 

Akiko changed into her own suit and the two moved out to the pool area. Swimming wasn't her best area, but it wasn't her worst, either. The girl had a comfortable middle-of-the-pack standing in nearly all sports rankings for her grade. She did, however, like swimming a little more than the rest, since it was cooler and she didn't have to worry as much about bruises or scrapes. As the class cycled through the lanes, practicing different strokes and competing for time, Akiko and Shinobu managed to remain next to each other.

 

“So, did you get that paper done?” asked Akiko. Shinobu nodded.

 

“Last night,” she confirmed. “Naru-sempai and Mutsumi-sempai helped me,” she explained. “How about you?”

 

“Haven't gotten started yet,” Akiko admitted guiltily.

 

“Akiko! That's no good! It's due next week!” she scolded her friend.

 

“I thought I would get some help from your sempais when I come over this Sunday,” she said contritely.

 

“You better!” Shinobu shot back indignantly. “I swear, Akiko,” sighed the girl, mounting a block beside her friend, “you must enjoy living dangerously.” Akiko only giggled.

 

When the two pulled their dripping frames from the pool and took their places at the back of the line after their two laps, they heard the girls in front of them whispering. “Eew, he's doing it again,” one whispered to her friend.

 

“Again? He must be a pervert after all,” her friend whispered back. Frowning, Shinobu looked around. Guys - usually fellow seniors - would often be found around the fencing of the pool, watching the girls swim. While not appreciative of the attention, Shinobu usually dismissed it from her mind; boys will be boys, as Kitsune would be sure to say. Boys were also perverts, as Motoko had often said. And if the worst they did was leer at her, then they were only doing what they did best, so Naru would claim.

 

“Is it even allowed for him to do that?” wondered the girl in front of her. Shinobu wasn't sure what they were talking about.

 

“Really,” the other girl's friend agreed. “I mean, for a teacher to do that kind of thing creeps me out!” complained the girl.

 

Teacher? wondered Shinobu, looking again at the fence. A moment later, she spotted her homeroom teacher watching her. What is he doing here? wondered the girl, feeling uncomfortable.

 

“Maehara! Do your best!” he yelled, making her blush. What the hell is he doing?! she wondered, wanting to hide behind Keitaro; or at least one of her sempais. Where is Motoko-sempai when I need her?!

 

Her sentiments were not alone, either. From the looks and reactions from the boys around the teacher, and the girls around Shinobu, it was clear that the boys found the man's comments unnerving, and the girls found it disturbing. Murmurs filled the pool area as the girls whispered to each other about the teacher's yell, while outside the pool area, the guys were trading looks. Shinobu's good mood was being ruined. To her surprise, Akiko switched lines with her, giving her some cover. Giving her friend a smile, she saw Akiko nod in response.

 

“Maehara! Be sure to concentrate! You have get off the block faster!” yelled the teacher. Shinobu felt a shiver run down her spine. Would he just go away?! she wished.

 

“Teach, should you be saying things like that?” wondered one of the boys outside the fence.

 

“Yeah, really!” said one of her classmates from inside the fence, “isn't that like harassment?” she asked the girls at large.

 

“More like creepy, I think,” giggled another girl.

 

“Yeah, but he always obsesses over Maehara,” another girl gossiped.

 

“Tell me about it!” agreed the first. “He's always watching her and hovering over her in class,” she reminded the group.

 

“Maybe he's a Lolita freak!” one of the guys jeered.

 

“Eew!” chorused the girls.

 

“Shut up, you losers!” the teacher yelled at both groups. “None of you have any business in a school like ours! You are a waste of time to attempt to teach, unlike my Maehara, who is going to Todai!” Shinobu's eyes went wide at that.

 

“What are you doing?” the girls' PE teacher said, moving to stand in front of her fellow teacher. “I think you should leave,” she said sotto voice.

 

“Ma'am, I'm not feeling good,” Shinobu said, leaving the line.

 

“Ok, Maehara,” the woman said, glancing at Shinobu and giving the girl a sympathetic look. “Stop by the Nurse's office and I'll check on you after class,” she said.

 

“I'll escort you, Maehara,” her homeroom teacher called out.

 

“No!” screamed back Shinobu, hurrying out of the pool area and to the locker room. Reaching her locker, she fumbled with the lock for a moment before opening it and grabbing her phone. Quickly dialing a number, she heard her party pick up on the second ring.

 

“How did you get this number?” wondered her party.

 

“Granny gave it to me,” Shinobu replied, her voice wavering a little.

 

“What's wrong, Shinobu?” asked the other party, concern in her voice.

 

“I…” Shinobu forced herself to exhale, “It's nothing,” she said, a quiver in her voice, “just something happened.”

 

“I see,” said the other party. “I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

 

-

 

“Did you hear?” murmured Motoko to her sister as the two fitted new paper to a sliding door that had been damaged months before but had not been repaired beyond some tape to close up the paper that had been torn. Tsuruko nodded.

 

“She seemed suspiciously agitated about something,” Tsuruko confirmed her younger sister's analysis. “And her aura was dark as coal,” worried the elder sister.

 

“Should we follow her?” wondered Motoko, glancing at the door to the inn. “If we hurry, we should be able to find out where she is going in such a hurry,” she noted.

 

“Do you think we would be able to follow her?” wondered Tsuruko. “Not only is she adept at being unseen, but she is also sensitive to Ki such as we use,” lectured the elder sister. “Doubtlessly because she is advanced in arts developed to fight our family style,” she added dryly.

 

“It might be worth it to attempt it, regardless of whether or not she eludes us,” Motoko argued.

 

“Perhaps,” Tsuruko allowed, “and yet, I am more curious about why she stormed out of Kitsune's room. She is usually in the office at this time of day.”

 

“Kitsune is probably behind in rent or shirking her duties,” Motoko offered.

 

“That could be it, though I suspect that talking to Kitsune about matters she finds vitally important is not her usual way of handling delinquency in rent or failure to perform chores,” smiled Tsuruko. The sisters were silent as they finished up their task. Since they lived in a house with similar construction as the Hinata, they were skilled at repairing the traditional sliding doors.

 

“Divide and conquer?” suggested Motoko, smiling a little. Slowly, Tsuruko nodded. “You want Kitsune or Kanako?” asked the younger.

 

“I will deal with Kitsune,” said Tsuruko. Motoko nodded, sprinting to her room. Nearly tearing off her work clothes, she grabbed the first presentable items of clothes she had and dashed after the younger Urashima sister. It happened to be the dark blue miniskirt and sleeveless white top that clung to her curves that she had had for years, but only worn a few times.

 

Running down the steps to the Hinata four at a time, she jogged down the hill. If Kanako was going somewhere, it would have to be through the station at the bottom of the hill, since there was really no other way to come or go from the Hinata's hilltop position. She smiled as she ran swiftly and easily. Thankfully, my daily drills have granted me excellent wind and condition, she thought, looking at the people ahead of her, searching for the black sundress that the younger woman had been wearing. Goth is usually easy to spot, she mused, and thankfully, Kanako seems to favor black clothes.

 

While Motoko ran after the acting manager of the Hinata, her older sister knocked on Kitsune's door. “Come on in,” came back the reply from inside. Sliding the door open, she saw Kitsune sitting cross-legged at her low table, laptop before her, fingers flying over the keys. Glancing over at the door, she blinked, closing the document she was working on. “Tsuruko,” she said, “what brings you here?”

 

“I was just taking a break from assisting in the upkeep of the house, and thought I would come see you,” the elder swordswoman said. Kitsune grinned at her, producing a bottle of sake.

 

“You mean you came to see this,” said the girl slyly. Tsuruko titled her head. “Well, drinking with a friend is better than drinking alone,” Kitsune said, producing two cups and pouring the sake into the cups as Tsuruko settled beside her. Kitsune glanced at her visitor, noting the shorts and tee shirt the woman wore couldn't hide her slim, toned figure. Eyeing Tsuruko's chest, Kitsune knew that Tsuruko wasn't binding her chest. That's new, she noted, usually she and Motoko keep their bindings in place, but of late, the only time I see them in their bindings is when they are doing their morning practices. After that, they seem to switch to bras; or less, Kitsune mused.

 

Tsuruko sipped her sake, casting a stealthy look at Kitsune. The fox girl had clearly not been awake long, as her ash-colored hair was still showing signs of bed-head and she was dressed - such as it was - in a filmy rose-colored dressing gown that hid nothing at all. Kitsune is fully aware of the power of her beauty, Tsuruko thought, and she is well-practiced in using it as a weapon. Were it not for her devotion to Naru, Keitaro would have been lost long ago. Kitsune was bare under the gown, her dark areolas visible through the nearly-transparent gown, as well her lack of panties.

 

“So, what brings you here, Tsuruko?” asked Kitsune as she refilled the sake glasses for the third time.

 

“I was curious about Kanako's early visit to your room,” Tsuruko said casually. “Given her focus on certain matters, I thought I should see if you were in trouble or not.”

 

“Eh,” Kitsune weakly laughed, “well, you know her. She was a little upset about my spotty rent history,” the fox girl said in response. “But she wasn't quite up to the point of violence about it.”

 

“I see,” murmured Tsuruko, sipping her sake once more. “So the threat of future violence drove you to work?” she teased. Kitsune glanced at her laptop, now closed and set aside.

 

“Something like that,” Kitsune agreed. “Since I don't care for bruises and dislike pain, it's the lesser of two evils,” she smiled. Tsuruko inclined her head in assent.

 

“Indeed,” agreed the warrior. “Though I wonder if she would settle for bruising you, given her actions toward Naru.”

 

“Uh, well, I don't think I have angered her as much as Naru has,” Kitsune offered. She's suspicious, Kitsune noted silently. This isn't good. She hadn't been a big fan of Kanako's abrupt tactical switch for just this reason. Still, I can't see her understanding the real purpose of our meetings, so it could still be ok, Kitsune decided.

 

“Speaking of Naru,” Tsuruko said, changing topics, “how have things been going with her? Since she has started therapy, she seems much more calm and collected,” gossiped Tsuruko. Kitsune considered how and what to say on that topic. Naru was still her best friend, after all.

 

While Kitsune and Tsuruko danced over sake, Motoko was still in pursuit of Kanako. She had just barely made the train that she had caught a glimpse of Kanako boarding, practically diving aboard the train one car back from the one she was sure Kanako was on. Catching her breath, she grabbed a handgrip and waited to see which station Kanako go off on. She was fully aware that this was the most likely time for Kanako to elude her, given the countless opportunities that stations provided. That is, of course, if she is aware of me, Motoko calmed her worries. Nothing had indicated that Kanako was aware of her presence, and he hoped to keep that up.

 

Since she was focused on Kanako, it wasn't until a hand touched her panty-clad ass under her miniskirt that she realized that some foul and repulsive male was groping her. Snarling, she spun toward the offender, murder in her eyes. She found herself facing someone she had seen before; too often, in fact. “Kentaro,” the samurai girl bit out, “you wish to die, then?”

 

“A…A…Aoyama!?” squeaked the poor man, literally cowering from the tall, strong girl glaring at him. “I…uh…thought you were someone else?” he cringed. Motoko's lips drew back dangerously.

 

“Did you? Who?” she asked. Aside from my sister, I am one of the tallest women in this entire area, she thought angrily, and none of the other women I have seen have even the most passing resemblance to my carriage and bearing, either! Motoko held a faint contempt for the soft, undisciplined women she so often saw in the city. The taller ones tended to slouch or lean, as if ashamed of their height, and nearly all the women were imprecise with their movements and sloppy in their mannerisms.

 

“Um, a girl I met recently,” Kentaro was grabbing at straws. Motoko's hand closed in a fist. “Please don't kill me!” wailed the young man. Aware of the passengers watching this play out, Motoko's eyes narrowed.

 

“You are not significant enough to be honored by a death from my hand, worm,” she hissed softly. “But if you touch me again, I will not be so merciful!” she warned him as the train pulled into the next station. Dismissing the waste of space that was the sometime-friend of Naru and Keitaro, Motoko scanned the people exiting at the stop. Too many people, she thought desperately. Suddenly, an idea hit her. Turning on her heel, she lunged down and grabbed Kentaro's shirt, easily pulling him to his feet. “You will assist me in exchange for your life!” she informed him.

 

“O…of course!” he agreed weakly.

 

Even as Motoko pressed Kentaro into service, Tsuruko was leaving Kitsune's room, having learned all she could from the verbal foreplay with the wily slacker. Her gut told her that something new was afoot in the Hinata; and with two of the more dangerous threats to her mission in play, she couldn't afford to shrug it off as mere happenstance. Moving to the room she shared with her sister, she quickly stripped off her work clothes, grabbed her bath supplies and hurried to the spring.

 

After a swift but thorough wash, she dried off and swiftly returned to her room. Once there, she carefully dressed in a kimono, put her hair up, and went to find Hina Urashima. Searching through the Hinata, she found no trace of the old woman. Moving to the tea shop, she found it closed. Carefully moving so she could see the tiny balcony behind the cramped apartment over the shop, she saw that the old woman's hammock was empty. After a moment of thought, she climbed back up to the Hinata, moved through the main house, and made her way toward the gazebo. Not seeing the old woman, she nodded to herself, moving on.

 

Approaching the `back' of the enclosed grounds of the Hinata, she eyed the abandoned annex, storage sheds and overgrown foundations of the second wing of the planned annex. For some reason, the annex always caused a strange, nervous feeling in her; like someone was standing just behind her. It feels like someone powerful is standing just behind me, thought the eldest Aoyama sister, approaching the annex.

 

Pausing at the entrance to the annex, she took a calming breath. “Hina-sama?” she called out. Waiting, she heard no answer. “Hina-sama, I wish to speak with you. Are you in there?” she called out again. Perhaps she is in town? wondered Tsuruko. A flash of movement deep in the abandoned building caught her eye. “Hina-sama?” she called out.

 

Moving into the annex, she felt the familiar feeling tingle through her spine. “Hina-sama?” she called once more. Deeper in the annex, she heard boards creek, like someone was moving around. I feel the need of my sword, the woman thought, moving deeper. Room after room, she found nothing. Just as she was about to give up and return to the Hinata to see if she could find out where Hina had gone, she saw a small, wizened form grinning at her from the middle of the next to last room in the annex's second floor.

 

“Tsuruko,” Hina grinned, “what brings you here? And in such fancy clothes, too!” the old woman cackled gleefully. Tsuruko bowed.

 

“I wish to speak with you, Hina-sama,” she said. “About the issue of our houses, as well as another matter,” she requested formally. Hina's smile never wavered.

 

“Well, if that's the case, we should do it somewhere less dusty, as cleaning a kimono is a chore,” Hina said knowingly. Tsuruko bowed again.

 

“Thank you, Hina-sama,” the woman respectfully answered. Hina paused, looking around the empty room for a long moment before sighing.

 

“Well, let's get going, Tsu-chan,” prodded Hina, grinning. Tsuruko blinked. Tsu-chan? wondered the warrior. Well, whatever she wishes to call me is fine, I suppose, Tsuruko decided. As the two moved through the annex, Tsuruko absently - habitually - scanned the area around her for Ki signatures. Hina's was close behind her as expected, but she was certain that another signature was somewhere around her, but she couldn't focus enough to `read' it like she could others. And even though I can sense Hina-sama, I can't `read' her accurately, either, Tsuruko mused. What is going on with this annex? Motoko told me it was `cursed', but how exactly? Were it a normal evil spirit, Motoko should have been able to dispel it or seal it, but she said that her attempts had failed miserably. What is it that haunts this place?

 

“Stop gathering wool and keep moving,” came the amused voice of Hina from behind her. Tsuruko realized that she had unconsciously stopped in her tracks, focused on trying to pinpoint the strange feeling.

 

“Sorry, Hina-sama,” Tsuruko apologized, resuming her pace. When she cleared the annex, the odd sensation ceased. Feeling more at ease, Tsuruko moved toward the gazebo, Hina moving over and forward to walk beside the taller, younger woman. “Hina-sama,” she said, deciding to satisfy her curiosity, “what is going on in the annex?”

 

“You didn't come all the way out here and brave the annex just to ask me that,” Hina said, smiling up at her. “As for the question, I decline to answer.” Tsuruko blinked.

 

“I…understand,” she said tightly. She knows I know she is toying with me, but does it anyway. Truly, she is the elder of the Urashima, the Aoyama thought sourly.

 

“No, as a matter of fact, you do not understand,” Hina disagreed. “But when the time comes, you will learn what it is that you sense but cannot perceive,” the old woman said. Tsuruko digested that for a long moment.

 

“Then…” she began, only to have Hina shake her head.

 

“No more talk about that,” she waved her hand. “I'm sure that you came to discuss something far, far different with me, so let's talk about that, shall we?” grinned Hina. Tsuruko found herself once more re-evaluating the old woman.

 

While Tsuruko discovered she knew less than she thought, Motoko was fighting back homicidal urges as she trooped after the fast-moving younger sister of her potential husband. Kanako moved a lot faster than she had thought possible, and even with Kentaro assigned to help her keep track of the girl, she was finding it very hard. Running to catch the bus, she saw Kentaro following the bus in front of her in a taxi. Damn that girl! Motoko thought furiously.

 

Still, she was getting suspicious about where Kanako was heading. But, if she was correct about where the still-angry girl was going, she might find herself in a situation where her sword would be very, very necessary. Can I contain Kanako with whatever I might find on hand? Her style is unarmed combat in close quarters, while my style is centered on the sword. Without my sword, I am at a greater disadvantage than ever if it comes to a fight, the girl worried. She had been told by her sister that if a practitioner of the Urashima arts got inside the guard of a Shinmei-ryu, it was nearly assured that the Shinmei-ryu would fall to the Urashima.

 

Minutes later, she hurried off the bus, seeing Kentaro frantically waving to her even as he paid the taxi driver. Motoko ran the direction he signaled her to go, and swiftly picked up the Ki of Kanako. Looking further down the block, she realized that there was really only one place Kanako could be going. Better open this up before we get inside the gates, she decided grimly, breaking into a sprint. “Kanako!” she called, reaching for the girl's shoulder.

 

“Motoko,” came the measured, clipped reply, Kanako suddenly facing her, having seemingly spun all the way around in mid-step. Her hand - extended to grab Kanako's shoulder - was in her firm grip, the shorter girl's eyes hooded. Motoko didn't have to have the family gift for sensing Ki to know that the Urashima girl was prepped for a fight.

 

“What are you doing here, Kanako?” asked the taller girl, not attempting to free her wrist, since she suspected that that was what Kanako wanted her to do; besides which, she doubted that she could free her wrist in any event. “This is Shinobu's school,” pointed out the samurai.

 

“Which is why I have come,” said Kanako coldly, gazing into Motoko's eyes.

 

“I will not let you disrupt her studies,” warned Motoko. It could hurt me a lot to do that, but I think I can at least keep her out of the school grounds, she told herself.

 

“It is not me that is disrupting her studies, Motoko,” Kanako said. Releasing her wrist, Kanako marched toward the gate. “You are welcome to join me, should you so wish,” said the girl. “But,” she added darkly, “you will not stop me.” Motoko hurried after the girl.

 

The gate was closed, of course, but it was no harder to cross than a crack in the sidewalk for the two. Ignoring the blink from the delinquent student hiding near the wall, the two moved straight into the school, neither removing their shoes, up the stairs to the third-year floor, and past the classrooms, the seniors parting for the pair as if they could sense the dangerous charge around the girls. Motoko frowned, wondering how it was that Kanako knew the layout of the school so perfectly. Turn after turn, the smaller girl was unfaltering as she led Motoko straight to the nurse's office.

 

“The nurse's office?” wondered Motoko, feeling a tickle of worry. “Shinobu is in the nurse's office?” Kanako nodded, sliding the door open without knocking. A middle-aged nurse looked up.

 

“Can I help…?” she began, only to trail off as Kanako marched right past her like she wasn't there, drew back the curtain around the last bed, and studied Shinobu for a moment. Shinobu blinked at Kanako's sudden appearance before sighing in relief.

 

“What happened?” asked Kanako, studying Shinobu.

 

“I…it's just…” Shinobu shook her head, clearly having to take a moment to calm herself.

 

Motoko stopped behind Kanako. She knew Shinobu well, and she knew that Shinobu was prone to panic attacks, but it had been years since she had one this bad. Seeing Motoko, Shinobu smiled a bit stronger. “Tell us what happened, Shinobu-chan,” Motoko said softly, encouragingly.

 

“Motoko-sempai,” Shinobu breathed.

 

“Excuse me, but are you two students here?” wondered the nurse. Kanako and Motoko turned to glare at her as one. “Um, I see,” the woman said, backing up. “Sorry to interrupt,” she apologized, bowing to the two. Maehara-chan knows some scary people! she thought uneasily, edging out the door. I think maybe I should get the security guard to come here, decided the nurse, hurrying to the administration office.

 

As she entered the office, she nearly ran into the PE teacher. “Oh, how is Maehara doing?” the woman asked the nurse.

 

“She seems to be under some stress, but otherwise fine,” the nurse replied, distracted. “Have you seen the security guard around here?” she asked. The PE teacher frowned.

 

“The security guard? What for?” she wondered.

 

“A couple of young women barged in and are talking to Maehara,” the nurse said. “They give me a really bad feeling, too,” she added. The PE teacher dashed off. Moving into the office, the nurse continued to look for the security guard.

 

“Nurse,” came a strident voice from behind her, “what are you doing here instead of caring for my prized student?” demanded the homeroom teacher.

 

“I'm looking for the security guard,” the nurse said. The man frowned.

 

“Why?”

 

“Two young women came to see Maehara, and…” the nurse began to repeat herself.

 

“Those maniacs came here?!” bellowed out the man, turning for the door. “My Maehara is in danger!” he exclaimed.

 

“Um, I don't think you should go…!” began the nurse, but the man wasn't listening to her. Where is that security guard? wondered the nurse. Her musing was cut short by a familiar voice.

 

“What are you doing?! Unhand me!” the teacher demanded.

 

“Sir, the dean wishes to speak with you,” the security guard said polite.

 

“I haven't time for that! My student is in deadly peril!” protested the teacher.

 

“I must insist, sir,” the guard replied.

 

“Let go of me, you wage lackey!” yelled the man. Exiting the office, the nurse saw the security guard had the teacher's arm in his hand, and was forcing the man toward the administrative wing.

 

“Um, when you get done, I need you to come to the infirmary,” said the nurse to the man. he nodded.

 

“Be just a moment,” he promised her. Realizing that he couldn't change the guard's mind, the teacher angrily marched toward the dean's office, the guard following him. Five minutes later, the guard was back. Together, they moved toward the nurse's office. “Some boys fighting again?” guessed the guard. The nurse shook her head.

 

“No,” she said slowly, “Maehara came in half-way through PE for some reason, and just a few minutes ago, two women barged in. They…” she paused, glancing at the somewhat big man next to her, “well, they scare me. Something's different about those two.”

 

“I'll take care of it,” the man said confidently. It's going to be one of those days, I see, the guard thought sourly. When they reached the nurse's office, they found the door open. “Where are they?” wondered the guard, looking around.

 

“Maybe they left?” suggested the nurse. Moving to the bed Shinobu had been on, she pulled back the sheet. “Oh my!” she exclaimed. Laying in the bed was the PE teacher, out cold. Looking around, she couldn't find a trace of Maehara or the two scary women who were there just minutes before.

 

-

 

“Almost there,” panted Keitaro, pushing up and arching his back. “Haru?” he gasped.

 

“Just a…bit more,” replied his lover, also short on breath. “Push…harder, Kei,” she directed.

 

“Ugh!” grunted the young man, wedging his feet and straining his legs as he pushed forward as hard as he could. “Hurry, Haru!” he rasped out, straining.

 

“Got it!” exclaimed the woman, a plastic snap! filling the dark, cramped room the two were wedged into. Haruka's sweaty, limp body collapsed on top of his, Keitaro sagging himself. Minutes passed as the two caught their breath. “So, better than sex?” Haru asked, laughter beginning to undermine her control.

 

“I prefer sex,” Keitaro managed, beginning to crack up himself. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her sweaty neck.

 

“Same here,” she purred back, still trying to stifle the last of the laughter. “How about we get out of here?” she suggested. Feeling his hands cup her breasts fondly, she hummed. “Unless you'd rather have your way with me right here? Have to admit, never done it in this kind of place,” she enticed him, smiling in the darkness.

 

“I'd like to,” Keitaro said, feeling her nipples harden through the shirt she wore, “but I don't think my back could take it. That sill is getting painful,” he said.

 

“Are you saying I'm heavy?” Haru pouted cutely, even as she worked her arms out from under the console of the piloting station. Getting a secure grip on the framing, she suspended herself from her handgrips and wiggled out.

 

“You're light as a thistle,” Keitaro said, following her out. Once he could stand, he twisted his waist a time or two. “But the angle was bad,” he explained. Haru leered at him lovingly.

 

“Can't say I've ever had that happen with you,” she murmured in his ear, handing him a water-soaked bandana to wipe the sweat from face. “You always line up perfectly,” she teased him. Keitaro grinned back, but refrained from answering. He had learned that when Haru was in this mood, she tended to twist everything he said into the most perverted, sexual innuendo possible. It wasn't that he minded, but if they got distracted, they wouldn't be done with the work on time.

 

“Let's test it all again before sealing the compartment,” he suggested instead. Haru pouted cutely at him.

 

“You're no fun when you're like this,” she said. A moment later, her pout was gone, and she was hugging him close, a fond smile on her lips. “But you are certainly a man I can love and respect,” she said, kissing him briefly. “So, let's get this tested and done so we can call it a day and hit the hotel,” the woman was just as suddenly all business.

 

Keitaro nodded, throwing the waterproof power breaker under the compartment lip, Haruka then cycling up the newly-installed electronics on the worn boat. Testing the units one by one, she checked off the tests. “GPS is good,” she noted, referring to a manual in her hand. Moving a device over, she ran it through the test sequence as well. “Radio is working correctly,” she confirmed. Next on her list was the panel of idiot lights for the pumps, bilge sensor, motor controls and monitoring net connected to the engine.

 

“Starting engine,” said Keitaro, pushing the start button after inserting and turning the keys. After a moment of hesitation, the engine caught and came to life. Leaning over Haru's shoulder, he watched the gauges and indicators. Five full minutes of idling and all was well. Leaving the wheels in neutral, Haru ran the engine up to seventy percent and let them run for another ten minutes, watching the gauges. Returning the throttle to idle, she and Keitaro manually checked the main system against the readings on the gauges and idiot lights. Satisfied, they shut down the engine.

 

“Next up is bottom sonar,” Haruka said. She had decided that installing a simple three-sensor bottom sonar would be worth it, since the boat would be operating in uncharted shallows and a sandbar or reef could be a nasty surprise. Switching the device on, she made sure that each of the readers - one for the bow area, one on the keep mid-ship and the other covering the transom - were reading with the main unit before putting the machine through its test cycle. “Looks good,” she nodded.

 

“And now for the highlight of our evening,” she said dramatically, “radar unit on!” The small linear antenna mounted atop what had once been the gunner station began to turn. The radar unit was on par with what most sport fishing boats had. Good for about ten miles, it could pick up other ships or navigational hazards. It could also hint at heavy storms, though such was a hit or miss deal. Running through the auto-test program, she nodded.

 

“Done?” wondered Keitaro, preparing the cover that sealed off the area the electronics ran through. Haruka shook her head.

 

“Not quite,” she said. “We are going to cycle them on and off five or six times and make sure that they pass each time. Murphy is a bastard, after all, and I have had my fill of unexpected travel problems,” she grinned at him. “Though,” added the woman, “I must say I like the side effects of those mishaps.”

 

The last of the sun was falling behind the horizon when Haruka concluded her final test. Running lights, emergency lights, cargo area floods and the two high-power spotlights on pintle mounts were all fully functional. “Ok, we're ready,” Haruka said, satisfied. Keitaro affixed the cover, secured the dogs and brushed marine sealant around the lip and cover, the better to keep it all dry. Clicking on her flashlight, Haruka studied the clipboard on the piloting chair.

 

“How's it look?” asked Keitaro. Haruka nodded both to herself and to him.

 

“Done,” she pronounced. “Tomorrow at first light, we load up and secure. We've had final inspection already, the tanks are topped off, our emergency kit is ready, and the life raft should be here tomorrow morning. Once the load is secure, we'll put the last bit aboard and wait for Nyamo,” she said. Keitaro nodded.

 

“Sounds like a plan, Haru,” he agreed. Nyamo had left before first light that morning, bound to pick up Seta and two of the dig team, so they could sail the boat back to the site. Once the boat had sailed, the two would be charting a ride back the nearest airport, from which they would begin their odyssey back to the Hinata. Keitaro had asked Nyamo if she wanted to come with them, but she had declined. From what he gathered, she would visit `Shinomu' later. Haru and he had both made the effort to try and talk her into coming with them, but both knew that it was a lost effort, as the girl was a free spirit in the feline manner.

 

Climbing out of the boat, Haruka waved over the dock supervisor. She made sure he knew that the boat was to be turned around and the tanks verified full, she paid him the fee while Keitaro secured the wheel with chain and padlock. It wasn't that they thought that anyone would steal their boat, it was that they weren't going to tempt anyone. The half-sunk landing vessel had been turned into one of the best boats on the island - and at fair cost, no less - so it was better to make sure that no one got tempted. With the wheel full port, a length of heavy chain locked it there. Without the key, the engine was next to impossible to run, and even if someone did manage to get it to run, the heavy chan and padlock would be noisy to deal with and mean that the boat couldn't even be towed away from the dock, since the rudder would make it go in circles. It could, however, be turned around by use of the hawsers.

 

Tired and sweaty, the two made their way back to their room, dropping off their gear before going in search of food. Seafood was the main course, and while the two enjoyed the bounty of the sea and the tropical fruit that was grown in narrow strips by the town, they were both looking forward to returning to more normal fare. Eating breaded shrimp and lobsters, the two chatted about how good Shinobu's steaks were, and how delicious her chicken rice and greens were with cheesy peppers. When they were done eating, the pair relaxed for a bit before grabbing towels and heading for the beach. They would bathe later, but for the most part, they found that washing off the sweat and dirt was best done by a little moonlight dip in the ocean.