Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 63

“Su? Are you in here?” called out Shinobu, sliding open the door to Su's room. The thick jungle growth in the girl's room met her, but no answer was forthcoming from the blonde Molmolian. “Kaolla? Hello?” Shinobu yelled again, stepping into the room. Following the vague sort of trail that led deeper into the room, Shinobu searched for her banana-loving friend and future co-wife. “Anyone?” she called, pushing aside a branch.

 

“Shinobu? Is that you?” came back a voice from further ahead. Amalla, thought the girl, a little relieved to hear a response. Su's room could be dangerous, after all. A moment later, the taller, older Molmolian princess stepped through some undergrowth to the side of where Shinobu was. “Hi, Shinobu,” Amalla greeted the younger girl.

 

“Amalla-san,” Shinobu replied respectfully. “Is Kaolla around here somewhere?” she asked.

 

“She's in her lab right now,” Amalla said. “Something wrong?” wondered the elder sister.

 

“I wanted to talk to her about something,” Shinobu said, a faint blush on her cheeks. Amalla gave her a knowing look.

 

“So, they told you,” she said, draping an arm around Shinobu's shoulders.

 

“Told me?” wondered Shinobu. “You mean you already knew?”

 

Amalla nodded. “Kaolla came up with that idea a while back, and a few days ago, she talked about with Kanako. I take it you have some questions?” guessed Amalla. Shinobu nodded. “I can answer them, if you like. Or, I can help you find my sister,” offered Amalla.

 

Shinobu considered what she knew of Su's lab. “I think I'd rather not visit her lab,” said the girl slowly. Amalla gave her a companionable smile. “I…would like to know what is involved in doing…what Kanako suggested could be done. I mean, what are the laws or rules or traditions?” asked Shinobu. Amalla guided the girl over to a surprisingly-comfortable tree trunk, close to the shallow spring in the middle of Su's room - a spring that shouldn't exist, since there was no water in the room below her room.

 

“It's not common usage law,” began Amalla, “but the temple never rescinded the mandate, so it is perfectly legal and fully accepted by Molmolian society. If you do want to do it, you won't be risking anything. At most, there might be a little curiosity about using that old law, but I can't see it being any more interesting than the fact that you are a foreigner.”

 

“So, it wouldn't cause problems,” murmured Shinobu. Amalla gently stroked her upper arm and shoulder as she pulled Shinobu a bit closer to her side. Because Amalla was wearing native clothing as usual, a lot of her tanned skin was touching Shinobu through the thin, sleeveless top she was wearing. Absently, Shinobu realized that Amalla smelled like warm tropical fruit bread.

 

“No, not in the least,” Amalla confirmed. “Do you want to use the law?” asked Amalla.

 

“I don't know yet,” Shinobu admitted honestly. “What would happen if we did use that law?”

 

“Not much,” Amalla said, considering the question. “Each partner would be given an equal number, and I think that all primary partners - in this case, Kaolla, Keitaro and you - would have to accept each choice. Then, the temple would judge rather the choices were acceptable, and finally, the King and Queens would have to ratify them.”

 

“So, it would take time, then?” Shinobu asked.

 

“Normally, yes,” Amalla said. “However,” she paused, leaning closer to Shinobu, “in this one case, we can speed things up a bit; at least have it taken care of by your wedding next week,” Amalla said. Shinobu considered that.

 

“Why is that?” she asked, a little suspicious. Amalla pursed her lips.

 

“You might say that it is a case of mutual interests coming together,” she answered carefully. “Also, my kid sister is known for charging along without waiting for anyone,” added the elder sister. Shinobu could understand that all to clearly.

 

“Su is very eager,” Shinobu said. She liked the energetic girl - now woman - and often wished she could be as self-confident and full of energy as Kaolla was. “So, um, would doing this change the ceremony any? It just seems to be very involved already…”

 

“Not fundamentally, no,” Amalla said. “I already spoke to the head priestess of the temple, and the Bureau about the possibility. Other than having wedding attire ready for them, and a small change in the ceremony, nothing about the service would be different. However,” Amalla warned her young friend, “it would have an impact on the wedding night.”

 

Shinobu blinked. “How so?” she asked, a little worried.

 

“The wedding party will have to consummate their union before sunrise on the day of the wedding. All members of the wedding party,” Amalla said calmly. Shinobu considered that, blushing a little.

 

“I…I think…” she squeaked.

 

“Yeah, Keitaro can probably handle it,” Amalla smoothly cut into Shinobu's stammering, hesitating attempt at speaking, “but the real concern is if you can.” Amalla looked Shinobu in the eyes, leaning forward and toward the girl. “Are you able to do that?” she asked the girl.

 

“I would try my best,” Shinobu said.

 

“Do you want to finish building your family, Shinobu?” came the voice of the younger Molmolian princess. The two looked up to see Kaolla standing in front of them, both hands still holding bits of technology, but her green eyes fixed steadily on Shinobu. “I won't ask you to do it,” Kaolla said, uncharacteristically serious. Kneeling in the grass in front of Shinobu, she casually dropped the handfuls of tech to put her hands on Shinobu's shoulders. “I just want you to be happy, Shinobu.”

 

For several seconds, Shinobu didn't say anything. Then, she suddenly lunged forward, throwing her arms around Kaolla's neck and hugging the other girl tightly to her. Kaolla hugged Shinobu back, kissing the girl's head and neck soothingly. Amalla could hear soft sniffling sounds. Her hand joined Kaolla's hand, stroking Shinobu comfortingly as she made soothing sounds.

 

Eventually, Shinobu eased back from Kaolla, her cheeks wet, but a smile on her face. “Kaolla…” she shook her head slightly, unable to say anything more. Instead, she leaned into her blonde friend, kissing her on the lips. Kaolla returned the kiss. When the kiss ended, Shinobu sat back, Amalla putting her arm around her shoulders once more, holding the girl close to her.

 

“You're making me blush, Shinobu,” Kaolla said, giving her friend an old-fashioned grin. “Besides, I'm being pretty self-serving in this,” noted Kaolla. Shinobu blinked, not following her friend's remarks at all. Kaolla picked up the discarded bits of tech before standing. “I want you to be happy because when you're happy, the rest of us are,” grinned Kaolla, winking at the girl before moving back toward her lab, giggling as she began to fiddle with the strange bits of tech in her hands. Unwillingly, Shinobu began to laugh softly.

 

-

 

“They are assembled, Tsuruko-sama,” Daizaburo said as the sisters and Keitaro arrived at the dojo in the Aoyama family home. Tsuruko nodded.

 

“Thank you, uncle,” she said, mounting the small steps to the wood deck. The doors were all open, revealing the members of the school sitting properly in crisp, precise order on the polished wood floor. Keitaro started to sit down on the decking, but Tsuruko and Motoko both grabbed his arms and pulled him with them. Daizaburo followed the three, moving to sit in the fore-most spot, directly in front of where the sisters and their man sat.

 

Keitaro felt a little out of place, being the only one in the dojo not wearing gi and hakamas. He shifted a little, his slacks and shirt standing out like a neon sign in a cave. Looking at the assembled group, he realized something he had never thought about before. There aren't many women in the school, even though the Aoyamas are mostly women. I see two others…no, three. The rest are men. Why is that, I wonder? he thought. He also noticed something else. All these students have the same kind of general bearing about them that Tsuruko and Motoko have, and yet, something is…different between them and my girls.

 

His mental wandering was interrupted by Tsuruko's voice. “This morning's incident marks the first step in our school's future,” began his concubine. “We have found among us those who are unwilling, unable or just plain unsuited to the discipline our style demands - of self and sword both. Our school now numbers half what we did the day before, and yet, I believe that we are twice as strong.”

 

She paused, then continued. “Some of you are likely wondering what exactly has happened here, and why. That is understandable, and I will tell you what I way about it.” Another pause, as she organized her thoughts, then she continued.

 

“Our family and our school share a long history with our nation. Those of you who are senior among us are likely familiar with our traditional role as samurai and demon-hunters in ages past. And even those of you new to our school have seen the charter on the wall,” she inclined her head toward a heavily-framed piece of rice paper, aged and worn. Keitaro eyed it, realizing that it was affixed with the same seal as he had seen on his marriage documents.

 

“Generation upon generation of my family and of our school have followed the path of our ancestors, upholding our oaths and serving our emperor and nation with our hearts, souls and swords. Our ideas are more than just hung on the walls of this dojo,” Tsuruko briefly motioned the countless scrolls of calligraphy adorning the walls of the dojo, “they are inscribed on our very being. We are given our identities by those ideals; they are what he we form ourselves from.”

 

Tsuruko's eyes swept the room, meeting the attentive gaze of every swordsman or swordswoman there. “At least, that our ambition,” sighed Tsuruko. “We have, at times, fallen short. Today, such a failure has been addressed. And yet, such failing is only a symptom of the greatest threat this school faces.” The assembled students twitched at that. “Daizaburo,” Tsuruko called out her uncle, “of what do I speak?”

 

Daizaburo studied his great niece, clearly trying to divine where her thoughts were going. “I apologize, Tsuruko-sama, but I am unsure of what you speak,” he admitted, bowing to her. “Have we not already removed those who dishonor our school from our midst?” he asked.

 

“Only the outward signs have been removed. The cause remains,” Tsuruko replied. “Motoko, what do I speak of?”

 

“Our inability to adapt to the world as it changes, sister,” Motoko said firmly, yet softly. Tsuruko nodded.

 

“Precisely.”

 

A brief, low murmur was heard in the dojo. Tsuruko allowed it for just a moment. A single small gesture of her hand, and immediate silence was restored. “For a mistake made long ago, our school has been held in place, frozen, while the world changed around us. We have, as the elder of my sister's new family said, been stuck looking back, and therefore unable to step forward. It is time to face forward once more, to walk as samurai should.”

 

This time, the murmuring was louder and longer. Finally, one of the students in the second row behind Daizaburo stood. Bowing from the waist, he spoke. “What are we to do, daishihan Tsuruko-sama?”

 

“An astute question,” Tsuruko replied. “You all mediated on just such a question yesterday, so I will tell you that all of you must decide, now, if the ideals of our school is what you want for your lives. If you have any doubt about your place here, leave now.” stated Tsuruko firmly. “I do not - will not! - tolerate another such incident as happened this morning. Seek your answer diligently, for this school will be changing, starting today. Only those whose will is strong, and whose commitment to our ideals is total will find a place here. Any who wish to leave now will do so with their honor. All who remain will be intrusting their honor to our school's style.”

 

Tsuruko waited a full five minutes. Not one person in the room moved. “Very well,” smiled Tsuruko. “I am honored to call you all fellow Shinmei-ryu warriors.” Tsuruko bowed formally to the group, who returned her bow. Once that was done, she continued.

 

“We face a crisis, one that swords cannot defend against. Because of those who are no longer among us, and from our long stagnation, our school is on the brink of collapse,” Tsuruko said. “My family, and by extension, this school, are teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. One of the effects of not changing with the times, it would seem,” she said. “However,” she spoke slightly louder, silencing the surprised murmur from the assembled students, “we will not fall, nor will our history end on such an ignoble note. Just two days ago, I dissolved the council that has run this school for more than one hundred and fifty years,” revealed the elder Aoyama. “Several among the former council were unqualified to manage a school and our estate, while others used our school's name and prestige to live a life of privilege and excess beyond our walls. While that matter has been dealt with, we are left with the problems caused by it.”

 

Daizaburo was eyeing the sisters, a very odd look on his face. “You wouldn't…” be breathed. Motoko's lips bent slightly.

 

“I have arranged for my sister's new family - the Urashima clan - to take over administration of the school,” Tsuruko said. “They will not be involved in anything save the business of sustaining the school, but nevertheless, the Shinmei-ryu school is now part of the Urashima Group.”

 

“Damn her!” bellowed Daizaburo, fists clenched. The students behind him jerked in surprise at the outburst. “Damn that Hina to hell,” growled the man, hands shaking as his face reddened. Motoko's lips curved more, a smile now evident.

 

“Your enthusiasm touches my heart, uncle,” Tsuruko said. “But please control yourself,” she said. Keitaro could almost hear the man's jaw creak as he forced himself to resume his attentive, seemingly-calm posture. “Of more immediate importance to you is the fact that you will be responsible for re-training our students.”

 

“Re-training, Tsuruko-sama?” wondered Daizaburo, his anger forgotten at the totally unexpected instructions from his great niece.

 

“Yes,” Tsuruko said. Looking to the group, she addressed them. “How many of you believe you could perform either of the attacks myself and Motoko performed this morning?” she asked. None of them raised their hands.

 

“Those are some of the high arts of our family, Tsuruko-sama,” Daizaburo said. “Those have always been the domain of blood Aoyamas.”

 

“Neither of those were of the `secret' skills,” Motoko said quietly, staring at her uncle.

 

“I saw Yayoi-nee use that exact attack, Motoko,” Daizaburo replied, “she would only ever tell me that it was something I couldn't do.”

 

“Uncle,” Tsuruko said softly, “did it never occur to you that grandmother was not speaking of skill?” Daizaburo blinked. She shifted her attention to the waiting students again. “How many of you believe that oni do not exist?” Hesitantly, several raised their hands. “As I thought,” Tsuruko said. “Though our family has nearly eradicated them, some yet linger. One such resides in my sister's blade. Our style was developed in part to eliminate such things. The fundamentals of those skills has long been forgotten outside of our family. It is my intention to bring them back into practice within the school.”

 

“Tsuruko-sama!” protested Daizaburo.

 

“No, Daizaburo,” Tsuruko cut him off. “Continuing on as we have is not going to help us any. I am returning the school to a truer form of what it was. Another thing I am going to do is give my sister permission to train any she deems fit in our family style at her home in Tokyo.”

 

“But…!” was as far as Daizaburo got. Tsuruko was staring at him coldly.

 

“But Motoko is an Urashima now? But Motoko has spent more time with Hina-sama at the Urashima home than here? But what, Uncle?” demanded Tsuruko.

 

“But won't that mean that the Urashima will learn our family style?” he asked tightly.

 

“The Urashima, you will recall, have their own style. Is it not just as likely that Motoko can learn their style?” suggested Tsuruko. “Possibly from the very woman who nearly crippled you with her bare hands?” Daizaburo said nothing, though his jaw muscles jerked. “Besides,” Tsuruko changed gears fluidly, “the Urashima don't use Ki.”

 

“What?” blinked Daizaburo, caught off guard. The older, more experienced students were obviously surprised as well. “But, Hina…!”

 

“It is chi,” Motoko said. “As it was explained to me, it may or may not be the same sort of energy as our attacks use, but it is directed inward, acting on the user's own body, rather than projecting away from it. Or, to simplify it, their style is the yang to our yin.”

 

“How did you…?” wondered Daizaburo.

 

“As you are so eager to remind everyone, I am Urashima now,” Motoko said, silently holding up her left hand, the gold glinting in the light.

 

“My decision is not made with an eye to the past, but with the future in mind,” Tsuruko said, caressing her own ring. “My lord has requested that my children maintain our family's arts, but Motoko's children will have just as much right to that heritage as my own, in addition to being legitimate heirs to the Urashima style. Think what possibilities there could be, with a descendant of our line and the Urashima line that can use both family arts equally.”

 

Slowly, the anger and irritation drained from Daizaburo's face. And behind him, it was clear that several of the Shinmei-ryu students were getting it. “I leave you in charge of the school for now, Daizaburo,” Tsuruko said.

 

“You are leaving?” asked her uncle. Tsuruko nodded.

 

“Of course,” she said. “I am Keitaro-sama's concubine, after all,” she reminded him, smiling at Keitaro, who was blushing a little as more than a few of the swordsmen gave him ill-concealed jealous looks. “And there is business I must attend to there. I will be returning her for from time to time to test both you and your students. Likewise, I will select some from among you to come to Tokyo, so that Motoko and I might judge your growth for ourselves.”

 

“But, our dojo here…” one of her senior students began.

 

“Keitaro has given me the Urashima dojo,” Motoko answered for her sister. “It will be rebuilt to accommodate the needs of both family arts. I am also considering having those who are summoned to Tokyo demonstrate their skill against my family's best fighters,” revealed Motoko. Keitaro felt a little uneasy at the almost-eager looks on the Shinmei-ryu students at that little announcement.

 

“Who would be…testing our skills, Motoko-san?” asked Daizaburo, a glint in his eye.

 

“You should have learned better last time, Uncle,” sighed Tsuruko. “At your age, the kind of damage Hina-sama can do would kill you. But, as to your question, we have spoken briefly with both Haruka-san and Kanako-san. Both are masters of their arts, and would allow us to assess the growth of your skills. However, we have yet to make a final decision on this.”

 

Keitaro was unsure how he felt about that news. He didn't want to see any of his girls hurt, but he also knew that his women - most of them, anyway - were not exactly the delicate kind. And Motoko and Tsuruko have been raised in this kind of environment, while Haru-chan and Kanako seen to have spent a lot of time learning their skill, so I guess it is only natural for them to want to increase their skill, he considered. Truth be told, he was proud of how skilled his women were.

 

“Finally, I am leaving the school in your care for now since I am carrying my lord's child,” Tsuruko said, a smug smile on her face. The hall fell dead silent. Seconds ticked by. Then, suddenly, it was a riot in the hall, the few women rushing forward, and the men looking back and forth between Keitaro and his women. After a good five minutes of this, Daizaburo had firmly taken charge of the group, reminding them that they had duties to perform, and shortly there after, Motoko, Tsuruko and Keitaro were making their way toward their room.

 

“Um, Tsuruko,” Keitaro began.

 

“Yes, Keitaro-sama?” replied his concubine.

 

“Well, I was just wondering about something,” he said slowly.

 

“Please do not feel uncomfortable asking me anything, my lord,” encouraged Tsuruko.

 

“Did you think they would actually steal your swords?” wondered Keitaro. Tsuruko smiled.

 

“I had thought they would try something like that,” admitted Tsuruko. “In point of fact,” she continued, “I had hoped that they would try it.”

 

“What?” wondered Keitaro, clearly surprised.

 

“It was the surest way to find those among us who had no place here,” Tsuruko said.

 

“So…you deliberately goaded them into this?” Keitaro slowly asked. Motoko nodded.

 

“We did,” she confirmed. “I had not thought that they would be so foolish as to take the Hinata as well,” she frowned, absently touching the hilt of her cursed blade.

 

“Wasn't that reckless?” blurted out Keitaro.

 

“There was some risk, yes,” Tsuruko said calmly. “But you must take risks if you are to achieve something worthwhile. And we worked out a plan with Hina once we realized what we were really dealing with here.”

 

“Shouldn't be surprised, I guess,” Keitaro mused. It had granny's fingerprints on it, after all…

 

“Keitaro,” Motoko said, touching his arm, “please believe me when I tell you that such a risk was necessary to keep the past from repeating itself. Nothing less would have forced us to take such radical steps. It was never our intent to have Tsuruko engage in a fight; that was to be my role, since nee-chan is pregnant.”

 

“Mo-chan? You're not…pregnant, are you?” asked Keitaro, licking his lips nervously. Motoko offered him a small smile.

 

-

 

“Hey, Shinobu-chan, you look like you have something on your mind,” a soft voice startled Shinobu. Before she could even turn her head, arms circled her neck from behind as a warm, soft mass pressed against her back. Shinobu relaxed back into the warm embrace. She didn't need to look to see who it was. The size of the breasts, the scent of watermelon, and the inflection of their voice told her it was Mutsumi, the Okinawan Turtle priestess.

 

“Mutsumi-sempai,” Shinobu greeted her stacked sempai. The dark brunette's face appeared over her shoulder, one of her hands turning Shinobu's face slightly toward her so she could kiss her.

 

“Enjoying the sunset?” asked Mutsumi, settling herself so Shinobu was snuggled up in her arms, Mutsumi's legs holding Shinobu steady. The two were on the roof of the Hinata, on the rear peak that faced west - a favorite spot for the residents when they needed a little privacy to think or plot or just be alone. It couldn't be seen from any of the grounds without climbing trees or using the other roofs.

 

“Just thinking,” Shinobu said softly. Mutsumi's soft hands gently massages and stroked Shinobu's stomach, chest, shoulders, arms and thighs; any place the older woman could reach, really. Her cheek remained pressed to Shinobu's cheek, the younger girl relishing the sense of warmth, love and closeness she felt from Mutsumi.

 

“Is anything wrong?” asked the Okinawan woman. “It's rare for you to be away from the others for so long,” noted the priestess.

 

“No, nothing's wrong,” Shinobu said. “It's just I have some things on my mind, and wanted to make sure that I thought everything through.” Mutsumi's fingertip slipped under the neck of Shinobu's top to delicately caress the turtle charm Shinobu wore.

 

“If you want to talk, any of us will gladly listen,” Mutsumi reminded the girl. Shinobu smiled.

 

“I know, Mutsumi-sempai,” she said quietly. I doubt any of you know how good knowing that feels, she thought fondly. To have a house full of women who she could count on to lend her an ear, or help her with her homework, or give her advice when she needed it, or even just be there for her was worth more to her than anything else. And Keitaro is here, too, she thought, feeling a tingle in her belly as she thought about her man.

 

Minutes passed. Mutsumi's hands never stopped moving, Shinobu sighing softly as her entire body relaxed against her sempai's curvy form. “Mutsumi-sempai,” Shinobu whispered softly as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon, “do you think that Keitaro would feel more comfortable if he was legally linked to all of us?”

 

“Be more comfortable?” mused Mutsumi.

 

“I'm sorry,” apologized Shinobu, “I'm not being very clear, am I?”

 

“No, I'm listening,” assured Mutsumi, another soft kiss brushing Shinobu's lips.

 

“It's just…” Shinobu paused, organizing her thoughts. “Motoko, Naru and you are legally his wives; well, by various laws, anyway,” she laughed softly. Against her back, she could feel Mutsumi share her laugh. “And in a little while, Su and I will be his wives, too.”

 

“You are looking forward to that, aren't you?” purred Mutsumi in Shinobu's ear. The increased heat from Shinobu's cheek, along with her nipples snapping to attention spoke eloquently to how eager Shinobu was. Mutsumi smiled as she gently cupped Shinobu's modest breasts with her hands.

 

“Yes,” whispered Shinobu softly, shifting her thighs as her pussy tingled. “But, what about Haruka-san? And Kanako-san? They can't be married to him, even though they love him as much as we do. And is it fair to Kitsune-sempai to leave her out? She doesn't show it as much, but I know she loves him, and she's had to let other guys go before, so…” Shinobu sighed.

 

“You know about that?” Mutsumi asked, vaguely surprised. Shinobu nodded.

 

“I heard about Seta, and she stood aside for Naru with Keitaro - before all this,” explained the girl. Just like we all did, the girl thought irrelevantly. “She…Kitsune-sempai deserves to be happy, too, right?”

 

“I think so,” Mutsumi agreed, “but I wonder if being married to Keitaro would be the best way to make her happy,” suggested Mutsumi.

 

“Yes, I know,” Shinobu agreed. “That is kind of what is on my mind.”

 

“Well, we could go talk to her, ask her directly, you know?” Mutsumi prompted Shinobu.

 

“I know I should, but I wanted to think it all through first,” agreed Shinobu. “Besides, I don't know if…the terms of being with us would be to her liking,” confided Shinobu.

 

“Terms?” Mutsumi gently prodded Shinobu.

 

“Not all of us would end up as his wives, Mutsumi-sempai,” admitted Shinobu.

 

“I wonder,” replied Mutsumi, “does Tsuruko seem unhappy to you?” A frown touched Shinobu's lips.

 

“You…knew?” she asked, a little suspicious.

 

“Kaolla has not been very secretive about her upcoming nuptials,” smiled the Okinawan. “She was talking to herself in the bath earlier; or rather, I hope she was talking to herself,” amended Mutsumi. Shinobu knew all too well what Mutsumi was speaking of. Su could be borderline creepy at times.

 

“And you came to check on me,” Shinobu finished the thought. Mutsumi nodded.

 

“Would you have rather I didn't, Shinobu-chan?” asked Mutsumi. Shinobu shook her head.

 

“No, Mutsumi-sempai,” she said. “I'm glad you did.” Turning her head a little, she kissed Mutsumi's lips. “Thanks, sempai,” she added. Mutsumi hummed, kissing Shinobu back, her tongue slipping into the younger girl's mouth.

 

“We're all here for you, Shinobu-chan,” Mutsumi said, breaking the kiss briefly. “We're family,” she added before claiming the girl's lips again. Reaching back over her shoulder, Shinobu ran her hands through Mutsumi's thick, long hair as she kissed her sempai. Mutsumi's hand were cupping Shinobu's breasts, thumbs and forefingers fastidiously working her hard nipples. When the two broke their kiss, Shinobu was panting, her panties damp.

 

“Mutsumi-sempai,” Shinobu murmured, a strand of salvia linking them, “I love you all.”

 

“And we love you, Shinobu-chan,” came the voice of another of her sempais. “Now, what is this all about?”

 

“Kitsune-sempai,” Shinobu panted as the fox settled beside them. “I'm sorry, I should have had supper…”

 

“Shh,” Kitsune said, touching Shinobu's lips, “Kanako and Naru are preparing supper right now. What I want to know is if this is a private party, or can I join?” grinned the fox, caressing Shinobu's cheek.

 

“We were actually going to speak with you privately, Kitsune,” Mutsumi said.

 

“Oh?” wondered Kitsune, leaning in and kissing Shinobu. Mm, her kisses are certainly more addictive than any drug, Kitsune thought happily. And she's so darn cute, cuddled up to Mutsumi like that that I can't stand it! “So, let's talk.”

 

“Here?” Shinobu asked, glancing at Mutsumi and Kitsune in the low light.

 

“Sure, why not? No place more private,” shrugged Kitsune. “Or would you prefer to talk in the hot springs, with everyone else there? Either way is fine with me, Shinobu-chan.”

 

“Here's fine,” Shinobu replied. Kitsune shifted over until she was sitting tight to Mutsumi's side. As if she could read the fox's mind, Mutsumi shifted Shinobu so she was cuddled up to both of them, Kitsune's hands and arms surrounding the girl's slight form. “Kitsune-sempai,” she began, “would you be happier being with us legally?”

 

“You mean, being an official part of this group?” Kitsune questioned. Shinobu nodded. “I certainly wouldn't mind,” replied Kitsune. “I may not love Keitaro to the depths you do, Shinobu-chan, but he's the guy I want.” And his girls are pretty nice, too… she thought, feeling Shinobu's warm body against her.

 

“So, you would be happier being his?” Shinobu murmured, her mind clearly thinking about something else.

 

“I would be happiest being ours,” Kitsune corrected her younger house-sister. “You know I didn't have family, Shinobu. Since I got here, that's no longer the case. First Naru, then the rest of you, and now Keitaro. No, I have family now, and I would be happiest being part of that family.”

 

Shinobu exhaled softly, leaning back against Kitsune's and Mutsumi's breasts, looking up at the stars overhead. After a few moments, she stood, turning to face her sempais. “Thanks, Kitsune-sempai,” she said, kissing the ash-haired girl. “And you, too, Mutsumi-sempai,” she added, kissing the Okinawa again. “Let's go see how Naru-sempai and Kanako-san are doing with supper,” she suggested, offering a hand to each.

 

The two accepted her offer, standing as well. Neither sempai released her hand, the three moving carefully along the tiled roof to the point where they could hop safely down to the deck and enter the Hinata, holding hands. Inside the Hinata, they found Kanako and Naru working in the kitchen. Smoothly, Shinobu took over the meal preparations. Just as they were all sitting down for a good meal, they heard the front door open.

 

“Hello? We're home!”