Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Ships in the Night ❯ Closest Point of Approach ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

“Love Hina” is the property of Ken Akamatsu and TokyoPop. Although I did ask Santa to bring it to me this Christmas, so who knows. ^_^

I don’t own this story and I don’t make any money off of it. If you sue me, give me a number and I’ll fax you the cash.

C+C is welcome at hawker_748@hotmail.com.

This story idea was inspired by SimmyC, who graciously allowed me to pick up the ball and run with it.

Thanks Man!

“X” Spoken words
‘X’ Thoughts

Lemon Content Warning!

Manga continuity, after the “Burn-Up Blade” story line

Love Hina:

Ships in the Night

Chapter One: Closest Point of Approach


How rain feels to a person is largely subjective, usually based on the time of year, or the mood of the person underneath it. A rain that provides welcome relief in a hot, sultry summer’s day can feel like super-chilled ice water in early spring. Late fall rain, the last few rains before the snow starts to fall, are almost universally accepted as being especially cold.

Keitaro Urashima, the owner and landlord of the Hinata rooming house for girls, wasn’t feeling too philosophical about the weather as he walked through the city on a cold November night. He was more concerned with trying to keep warm. The windbreaker he’d grabbed before leaving Hinata house wasn’t up to the task of repelling the frigid precipitation that lashed him relentlessly. When the rain had started, it had kept him dry for about three minutes, before the water seeped through, soaking his jacket.

Resigning himself to getting drenched, Keitaro had continued with his wanderings, even after successive layers of his clothing became sodden, starting with his jacket, followed by his shirt and pants. His shoes and socks were soaked when he’d walked through some deceptively deep puddles instead of detouring around them, and now his underwear was cold, wet, and clinging to him uncomfortably.

The wet clothing was heavy, and taking away all of his heat and every step brought more of it in contact with his skin, further exacerbating the effect. He was so chilled that only his walking prevented him from shuddering to keep warm. There were abundant places where he could have gotten out of the rain and warmed himself up. Keitaro could have even returned to Hinata house, where a hot bath, coffee and dry clothes waited.

Yet he continued to walk in the rain, lost in thought, eschewing any shelter, and not paying any real attention to where he was or who was around him. His mind kept endlessly repeating the circumstances that had spurred him to take this long walk.

It had started small, as most things usually did, but it had snowballed uncontrollably from there, until it involved virtually all the residents.

Sarah and Su had lit the fuse, so to speak, with one of their traditional greetings. Their ‘tag-team’ kick, where Sarah hit him behind the knees while Su put a heel into his chin. It had caused him to sprawl backwards, wildly flailing his arms as he vainly tried to keep his balance. He’d failed, and ended up falling onto his back, banging his head on the floor, hard.

After a few seconds, his head cleared enough to realize that he had fallen with his head between Shinobu’s ankles. As his (mostly bad) luck would have it, Shinobu had decided to wear a skirt that day, and the clinical part of his mind noted that she was still wearing teddy bear panties.

Shinobu blushed, ‘eeped’, and tried to cover herself with her skirt. That might have been the end of it, if Motoko and Naru hadn’t chosen that exact moment to walk into the room.

Motoko’s eyes flashed dangerously, as she proclaimed once again that Keitaro was pervert and attacked him, launching him headlong into the wall. Only the fact that it was a structural, load-bearing wall prevented him from being punched through and leaving a Keitaro shaped outline. In retrospect, compared to what happened next, that might have been preferable to him.

He ricocheted of the wall and collided with Kitsune, knocking both of them to the floor, Keitaro’s head coming to rest between the fox-eyed girl’s bountiful assets. Slightly intoxicated (as usual) Kitsune leered and told Keitaro that if he wanted to get frisky, he should at least wait until they were alone.

Naturally, Naru didn’t take that very well…

Ignoring Keitaro’s attempts at apology and explanations, she stomped over and kicked him with enough force to launch him out of the residence like an artillery shell. The only thing that stopped his parabolic flight path was the 6x12 ceiling joist he impacted.

After his second aborted flight in less than two minutes, Keitaro lay crumpled on the floor, his head spinning, and his body wracked with pain. After a minute or so, he slowly regained his feet, gratefully accepting Shinobu’s help, and without a word to anyone, simply walked out. He headed for the door, paused only to put on his shoes and grab a jacket, and left without so much as a glance back.

He either didn’t notice, or just didn’t care about, the look of rain in the clouds. The residents watched him leave in silence, puzzled by his uncharacteristic behavior, and more than one wondering if maybe they’d finally gone too far.

That had been three hours earlier.

Keitaro was still thinking about this as he walked through the rainy night. If asked, he couldn’t have accurately expressed what he was feeling. He paused at an intersection and waited for the light to change. When he started to shiver, he made a mental note to buy a better jacket. ‘Something more waterproof,’ he mused, as he tried to keep himself from shivering. ‘Something better than this…sponge.’

‘Least my glasses keep the rain outta my eyes. Still get drops on ‘em though.’ A faint grin appeared on his lips as another thought came to him. ‘Maybe ask Su to make some windshield wipers for ‘em?’

Sighing, he resumed walking when the light changed, and his thoughts returned to their previous tangent. ‘Why does this always happen? Do they think I plan to do things like that?’ He was so absorbed in his own thoughts, Keitaro didn’t notice the person he bumped into until it was over. “Oh, I’m sorry ma’am,” he apologized.

“It’s alright Urashima.”

‘Huh? Urashima?’ “Do I kno- Tsuruko!” he yelped in surprise.

“Yes, it’s me Urashima.”

“W-what are you doing here?” he stammered. The last time he’d encountered her, she’d almost ended up as his sister-in law.

“I decided to go for a walk,” she replied.

‘Coming from Kyoto’s one helluva walk.’ “Are you visiting Motoko again? I can take you to Hinata House if you want.”

Tsuruko shook her head. “No need, I’m, I just wanted some time alone, that’s all.” She regarded Keitaro closely. “You’re drenched Urashima. Why are you out in this downpour?”

Keitaro pursed his lips, trying to think of the best way to phrase his reply. “Stress of being a landlord,” he answered diplomatically. “Sometimes, things get to be too much, so I need to get away for a while.” He was a little surprised to see Tsuruko nodding faintly, as if in understanding.

“You need to get out of this rain Urashima. There’s a coffee shop over there,” she pointed over his shoulder. “Why don’t go there, and then you can dry out and warm up.”

Keitaro’s first reaction was to politely decline the offer, but standing still had allowed the chills to set in. He felt himself start to shudder from the cold. ‘Might be nice to get warm again, and coffee…’ he mused dreamily. ‘A bathtub full of hot coffee…’ “After you,” he gestured.

They walked inside, going up a flight of stairs to reach the coffee shop. Keitaro shook off his jacket and handed it to the coat-check girl, who accepted it as if it were a jar of warm sputum. The waitress who showed them to a booth gave Keitaro’s soaking appearance a look of disdain before she left them with the menus.

Of course, Tsuruko looked completely presentable, her hat having done a more than adequate job of keeping her dry.

Keitaro excused himself and asked Tsuruko to order him a black coffee while he went to the washroom to try to dry off a little. Entering the washroom, he locked the door behind him, and took off his sodden shirt and wrang it out over the sink. He did the same with his socks, pants, and after double-checking that the door was locked and that the stalls were empty, his underwear. The wringing left his clothes damp and wrinkled, but no longer dripping.

He used hot water from the taps to wash his face and dried off as much as he could with paper towels. His efforts left him feeling a little drier than he started and looking more like a man than a drowned rat. Once again dressed, he used his hands to comb his hair as best he could, sighed in resignation at his look in the mirror and left the washroom, trying to avoid the angry glares of the three men waiting impatiently outside the door.

At the booth, he found a cup of coffee and a thermal carafe waiting for him, along with Tsuruko and a bottle of heated sake. Apologizing for his absence, he sat down and took a sip of his coffee, nodding in approval of its flavour and temperature. Glancing at Tsuruko’s sake, he thought, ‘That’s not a bad idea…’ He gestured for the waitress to come over and asked her if it was possible to get some brandy in the coffee.

She nodded and came back with a bottle of Hennessey. Pouring a generous splash into his coffee, Keitaro took a sip, and took comfort from the warm feeling that washed over him. “That’s better.”

“Brandy?” asked Tsuruko, raising her eyebrows in curiosity.

Keitaro shrugged. “Saw it in a movie.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better Urashima,” said Tsuruko, as she sipped from her cup. “So. Are you still glad you got out of the engagement with my sister?” she asked without preamble.

Somehow, Keitaro was able to set his coffee down without spilling any of it. “No! I mean yes! I mean…” He paused momentarily to regain his composure. “I didn’t mind being engaged to her,” he clarified, “but I’m not the kind of man she deserves.”

“How do you know? You two do make an adorable little couple.”

“I can just tell. You know, subtle things.” ‘Like constantly trying to send me into orbit,’ he silently added. “She’ll be happier with someone else.”

Tsuruko merely shrugged in reply. She then gestured for the waitress to bring her a new bottle of sake, which she started drinking with a speed that Keitaro found surprising.

‘None of my business,’ he thought, as he refilled his own mug, this time with a larger portion of brandy.

The two of them engaged in small talk, Keitaro telling Tsuruko about his attempts to get into Tokyo University and life at Hinata house, omitting any details about the pounding that the position inflicted on him. Tsuruko told him a few stories about Motoko, nothing embarrassing, but she didn’t tell him much about herself in the process.

All of the while they continued to drink, Keitaro now a third of the way into the brandy, and Tsuruko on her forth bottle of sake.

Tsuruko was a little flushed from the alcohol, but other than that seemed to be unaffected. Keitaro was feeling a little tipsy, and while he wouldn’t have wanted to drive at the moment, he would have said that he was feeling ‘mellow’.

His ‘mellowness’ was shattered when Tsuruko asked him point-blank without warning: “So how are you and Naru getting along?”

This time, Keitaro did fumble his drink. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“You and Naru. The two of you seemed to be quite close when you were in Kyoto. Even when you were engaged to my sister,” she added. “Are you two dating yet?”

“No! I, I mean, we’re close, and, and I like her…”

“…but…” prompted Tsuruko, a half-smile on her lips.

‘She’s more out of it than I thought,’ realized Keitaro. ‘Then again, I’m not that much better myself…’ He sighed as he recalled the beating she’d inflicted on him earlier that night… as well as the many other times. “We, we just have our disagreements, that’s all.”

“You ever get mad at her?”

“Sometimes, but not really…”

“Give her the ‘cold-shoulder’?”

‘I’ve gotten it a lot,’ Keitaro thought. “No, never.”

“So, she gets mad at you, but you never get mad back?”

Keitaro thought for a few moments, during which time Tsuruko finished off her forth bottle and motioned for a fifth. “We argue,” Keitaro admitted, “but I don’t see a point in getting too angry, what good would it do?” He finished his last swallow of brandy-laced coffee, and started to reach for the carafe, before reconsidering and pouring only brandy into the mug.

“I knew it. My sister was a fool for wanting to be free of you.” Tsuruko’s façade was starting to crumble, and Keitaro could se that something was deeply troubling her. She emptied her glass and reached for the bottle only to have Keitaro grab it first.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he told her softly.

“How would -you- know?”

“You said Motoko and I would be good together. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Well, why not?” prompted Tsuruko.

‘She’s different when she’s had too much to drink.’ Tsuruko’s bluntness was starting to make his own hackles rise a little. “Calling me a pervert and attacking me with her sword would be my first guess.”

Tsuruko shook her head sadly. “Motoko is a fool…”

In spite of all the disagreements he’d had with Motoko, Keitaro quickly came to her defense. “No, she’s not! I do some dumb things from time to time, and she just-”

“Overreacts,” finished Tsuruko.

“It’s not her fault!” Keitaro insisted.

Tsuruko sighed deeply. “In spite of all the friction between you two, you still stand-up for her. You’re a better man than anyone gives you credit Urashima.” Quick as a cobra, she snatched the bottle out of his hands and refilled her glass. “You may be the noblest man in the country.”

“Err, thanks…” ‘I think…’ “But, what about your husband?” he asked unsurely.

Tsuruko didn’t even look up in response, and didn’t say anything either.

Taking another drink to steady his nerves, Keitaro quietly asked, “Why are you here?”

When no response was given, Keitaro thought that she hadn’t heard him, and was about to repeat his question when Tsuruko replied, “Sometimes, things get to be too much, so I need to get away for a while.”

“W-want to talk about it?” a now very uncomfortable Keitaro asked.

“Not really.” Tsuruko drained her glass and refilled it yet again. “I will say this though. When it comes to trying to be there for someone, he isn’t nearly as good a man as you Urashima.”

Keitaro took the sake bottle back from Tsuruko. “I think we’ve both had enough for tonight.”

Tsuruko smiled crookedly, her face flush with alcohol. “You’re right. I should go home now.” She stood up, but had to use the table to steady herself.

Keitaro tried to jump up to help her, and then realized that his sense of balance and coordination wasn’t up to par either. “You, you normally drink this much?” he asked hesitantly, struggling to keep himself vertical.

Tsuruko shook her head. “No, Don’t know why though, this is kind of… interesting.”

“You’ll regret it tomorrow,” Keitaro replied ruefully.

“Until then…” She finished the last of the sake in the glass. She then turned on her heel and walked towards the exit.

…or at least, that’s what she intended.

Tsuruko’s co-ordination and balance were shot to hell, and she stumbled, falling against Keitaro, who somehow managed to keep her on her feet and keep his own balance as well. ‘Aw, hell, what am I gonna do?’ wondered Keitaro. ‘She can’t go home like this…’ Sighing, he helped the intoxicated woman to the exit, no easy feat considering how much he’d drank as well.

Settling his tab, retrieving his jacket, and having Tsuruko sit down while he put it on, Keitaro went through his options. ‘She’s too drunk to send back to Kyoto. Take her back to Hinata House?’ Shaking his head, he discarded that idea. ‘Motoko idolizes her, if she sees her like this… Hell, I’ll probably get blamed for it. And then beaten. She’s gotta sleep this off…’

This left him with two options, neither of which was particularly appealing. Taking her to a regular hotel would require a cab ride and a credit card, which he’d neglected to bring with him when he’d walked out. The other option was a ‘love hotel’, and that was a problem on so many levels. The image of him leading a drunk woman to one of those…facilities…would look really bad.

‘But there’s one around the corner. I’m a long way from home, its dark outside, and I can check in with cash.’ Keitaro mulled this over in his head. ‘Not my first choice, but it’ll have to do.’ He’d check her in, drop her off, leave a note, and head home. Nodding to himself, he helped Tsuruko back to her feet, put her arm over his shoulder, and helped her down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” she murmured.

“Somewhere you can rest.”

Tsuruko chuckled to herself. “See, you’re even helping me. What did I do to deserve this?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Keitaro was too busy trying to keep them walking straight to worry about conversation. ‘At least she can walk. Don’t know what I’d have done if I’d had to carry her. She’s kinda light for her size though…’

Even as intoxicated as he was, Keitaro wasn’t stupid enough to voice that last thought.

The drunken pair reached the street and re-entered the cold rain, which cleared Keitaro’s head a little. It also made the one block walk seem even longer. He couldn’t help but notice that Tsuruko’s presence at his side was kind of offsetting the chill in the air.

Keitaro shook his head to eradicate that thought. ‘No good can come from thinking like that… Just get this over with!’

After about ten minutes, Keitaro and Tsuruko finally reached the hotel. To his immense relief, no one was around as he used the automatic check-in. He selected the first available room on the ground floor, stairs were absolutely NOT an option, and paid the overnight rate. ‘It’ll take more than an hour or two to sleep this off.’

He led her to the room, used the keycard to open the door, locked it behind them, and helped her settle onto the bed. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, he headed to the bathroom, as the coffee and brandy were taxing his bladder to its limits. After obtaining blessed relief, he washed his hands and went to check on Tsuruko and take a closer look at the room.

‘Nice, actually… I was expecting a heart-shaped bed, satin sheets, or maybe a bondage rack. This almost looks…tasteful. Except for that mirror over the bed,’ he amended.

A soft groan from the bed attracted his attention from the questionable décor. Tsuruko was lying on top of the sheets, fully clothed, as Keitaro hadn’t dared try to undress her. He walked over to the bed and sat down on the very edge. “Are you alright?”

“Where, is this?”

“Don’t worry about it. You can sleep here, and go home tomorrow if you wish. Room’s paid for, just leave when you’re ready.”

“Why, why are you doing this for me?”

“You just needed some help,” Keitaro answered with a weak smile.

Tsuruko closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them a moment later, looked Keitaro right into his eyes and in a hesitant voice, barely over a whisper, said “I think, I think I need something more than that…”

Before Keitaro could ask her what she meant, Tsuruko reached up, placed her hands behind his neck and head, and pulled a startled Keitaro down, meeting his lips with her own.

“Mnph! Mmplth nnght!” ‘What the hell? She’s kissing me! She’s married! She’s drunk! This is bad! This is really BAD!’ These thoughts went through Keitaro’s mind in less than a tenth of a second. He immediately tried to pull back, but even as tipsy as she was, Tsuruko was far stronger, and his efforts were in vain.

Still struggling, Keitaro’s eyes widened further as Tsuruko forced her tongue into his mouth, rubbing it up against his own. His mind started to short circuit when he realized that his body was starting to react the way it normally would, if a drop-dead gorgeous woman was kissing him and holding herself against him. The stirring he felt in his loins horrified him more than anything in his life, even as his mind, on some level, realized that the experience was pleasurable.

Desperate, he managed to move his hands to Tsuruko’s shoulders, and with strength born of panic, pushed himself up. Gasping for breath, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DO-Ack!” He was cut off when Tsuruko simply rolled over, forcing him on his back, and straddling him. She then grabbed one of his wrists in each hand and leaned forward, effectively pinning his arms over his head and resumed kissing him, now slowly grinding herself against him as well.

‘Wrong! This is wrong! I have to stop this!’ Despite Keitaro’s frantic thoughts, there was little he could do. His arms were trapped, and if he tried moving his legs, it only made the contact between him and Tsuruko worse. Or better, depending how he looked at it.

By now, Tsuruko was kissing him under his chin, her warm breath caressing his neck, and nibbling his earlobes. Despite his fervent wishes, Keitaro was becoming sexually aroused, and his mind, which had initially opposed the encounter, was slowly but steadily dropping its objections.

“Tsuruko, this is wrong, you’re married, you’re drunk, you’re not thinking right…” he murmured desperately, his resistance melting away.

“I’ve never thought clearer,” she whispered huskily into his right ear, before she resumed suckling it.

Keitaro was himself intoxicated, which clouded his judgment. But if that had been the only factor, he would have been able to resist.

Tsuruko was an incredibly beautiful woman, and Keitaro found her attractive on many levels. But this alone would not have been enough to change his mind.

Keitaro’s desperate longing to finally lose his virginity came into play. But on its own, it would not have carried the day.

Even the recent trouble that he’d had with Naru wasn’t enough to push him over the brink.

But working together, all of these factors, greater than the sum of their parts, were enough to finally stamp out the last bit of resistance in Keitaro.

When Tsuruko kissed him again, and released his wrists, Keitaro placed one hand under her arm and on to her back, and the other hand behind her head. He willingly reciprocated the kiss, slipping his tongue into Tsuruko’s mouth, where it dueled with hers. He moaned softly into her mouth when he felt her warm hand slip under his damp shirt and slide slowly up his chest, a gasp escaping him as she gently squeezed his left nipple, a feeling he never knew he would find arousing. He lightly kissed Tsuruko on the lips, before he decided to be a little bolder, and tentatively kissed along her graceful neck. Tsuruko’s alabaster skin was so soft and so smooth, Keitaro felt like his lips were brushing against white silk.

Her luxuriant black hair, which had fallen against his cheeks, was the color of wet coal, and the scent of Tsuruko’s shampoo was intoxicating to Keitaro. He heard her let out a contented sigh, and somewhat emboldened, placed a trail of soft kisses along the side of her neck, leading up to the soft valley at the base of her neck.

The slow, sensual rhythm of Tsuruko grinding herself against him had caused Keitaro’s erection to grow to the point of being uncomfortable, but he found himself unconsciously mirroring her actions, and rubbing up against her in response. The feel of her body up against his own was driving him mad, and his more primal nature was screaming at him to take her immediately.

‘But, how do I do that?’ the last rational section of his mind asked. He’d heard stories in the locker room, seen a few movies, and read some more, but now that it was happening, he didn’t have a clue about his next move. Figuring that what he was doing now seemed to be fine with Tsuruko, he kept kissing her neck, moving up to gently suckle her earlobe.

He froze when Tsuruko reached down with her free hand and without warning or preamble, gently pulled up on the edge of his shirt until it was almost at his throat. She then moved her head down and placed feathery kisses along his chest, her warm lips sharply contrasting to his rain chilled skin. Keitaro moaned unabashedly when she softly teased one of his nipples with her tongue, trilling it into stiffness before placing it between her lips and starting to suckle.

Keitaro’s head was swimming from the new and exciting sensations that Tsuruko was invoking in him with her mouth, and he found himself unable to do anything but lie there, moaning softly, and stroking her silken hair with his fingers. When she reached up and gently placed a hand on his cheek, he turned his head to kiss her palm, parting his lips and gently taking her little finger into his mouth and hungrily sucking on it.

After a few minutes of Keitaro sucking on her pinky finger, Tsuruko pulled back from his chest -now slick with her saliva- and pushed herself up onto her hands. By now, Keitaro’s face was flushed, his breathing shallow as he practically trembled due the mingled desire and nervousness coursing through him. Looking down at him, Tsuruko smiled and caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers for a few minutes, before she reached down and started pulling Keitaro’s shirt the rest of the way over his head. The damp garment put up a brief struggle as it was pulled off of his arms, but the two of them succeeded in removing it. Almost as an afterthought, Keitaro then took off his glasses, and placed them on the night table.

With the same soft smile in place, Tsuruko reached down and undid the belt that held her gi closed. Opening it with her arms, she let the garment slide off of her shoulders, taking her arms from it and setting it to the side of the bed. Keitaro couldn’t stifle the gasp at what he saw.

She was gorgeous; no other words seemed to fit. ‘Lovely’ didn’t even come close, and ‘beautiful’ would have been a profound understatement. Flawless white skin, covering a toned, lithe body, that still had enough curves to be feminine. It made Keitaro think of what Motoko might eventually look like in a few years. ‘Must run in the family,’ he thought, hoping that he wasn’t drooling, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was.

His heart rate, which was already quite high, went into overdrive when Tsuruko began to remove the bindings on her breasts. He felt a sudden urge to look away, to protect her modesty, but he was entranced, unable to tear his eyes away until the last length of fabric was removed. Keitaro figured that he had to look like a dear caught in the headlights of a oncoming truck.

After nearly a minute of immobility, during which time Keitaro had been too frightened to make a move, afraid of doing something wrong, Tsuruko reached down and took hold of his hands and placed them carefully on her breasts. Keitaro, conditioned by months worth of beatings for just such occurrences, instinctively tried to yank his hands away, but Tsuruko held them in place until he ceased his struggles.

Swallowing nervously, and secretly hoping that his palms weren’t sweaty, Keitaro tentatively, and very gently, squeezed Tsuruko’s breasts, feeling somewhat relieved when she let out a pleased hum. Holding Keitaro’s hands where they were, Tsuruko leaned forward and kissed him again, opening her mouth and letting her tongue duel with his once more.

Keitaro wanted to run his hands along Tsuruko’s exposed back, but she was holding them firmly to her breasts, so he simply began to knead and squeeze, taking great pains to not squeeze too hard. When Tsuruko began to slide herself up his body, it became obvious to Keitaro what she wanted, so he began kissing her neck and shoulders, steadily but nervously working towards her chest. When his lips encountered the beginnings of the rise of her breasts, Keitaro actually started to panic, and he moved his lips to lower ground. This resulted in him ending up with his lips in the valley between her breasts, and he was almost too scared to proceed.

But when he felt Tsuruko gently stroking his hair, Keitaro calmed down. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, causing Tsuruko’s scent to flood his senses, And Keitaro began to work his way up Tsuruko’s left breast. When he reached the peak, he deliberately avoided the nipple, kissing completely around the areola three times, before he cautiously brushed the nipple with the tip of his tongue, feeling it harden almost instantly at his touch.

The unabashed moan that escaped from Tsuruko’s lips blasted away the last of Keitaro’s insecurity, and he took the nipple into his mouth, suckling hungrily, and gently sawing his teeth along it making sure to keep from biting down too hard and ruining everything. He used his left hand to gently pinch and squeeze the right nipple, doing all of the things that he had long fantasized about, but had never before had the opportunity to do. His head was being cradled in Tsuruko’s right arm, and he didn’t even notice that her left arm had moved until he felt her fumbling with the button on his pants.

He froze when she succeeded in undoing the button, and he almost instinctively reached down to grab at his pants when she pulled down at his zipper, but he returned his attention to her breasts when Tsuruko pulled him tighter against her chest, clearly dissatisfied by the diversion of his attention. By now his zipper was down, and he was lifting his hips to allow her to pull his pants down his legs. She managed to get them down near his knees, before she gently laid a hand on the bulge in his boxer shorts, murmuring something indistinct next to his ear as she gently began to massage.

Keitaro was practically shivering, excited at what was happening, but mortified of something going disastrously wrong. When Tsuruko softly gripped him and stroked him once through his shorts, he let out a soft cry. It had felt incredible, miles better than when he had done that himself.

Tsuruko let his head go and kissed him once again, before she began trailing kisses down his throat, his chest, his stomach…

‘She, she isn’t, is she?’ Keitaro groaned when he felt Tsuruko’s warm breath on his waist, and he gasped uncontrollably when she pulled his underwear down, allowing his erection to spring free. ‘She’s gonna laugh, it’s too small, it’s too ugly, it’s pathetic, she’ll leave, she’ll laugh…’ These thoughts screamed through Keitaro’s head as he contemplated which of his nightmare scenarios would occur.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt Tsuruko kiss him someplace that would normally be visible only if he’d been wearing Speedos. She ran her tongue along his skin, sending new and exhilarating sensations shooting up his spine. Keitaro closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling, moaning in pleasure, until a sharp pain made him cry out in shock.

‘She bit me!’ Tsuruko was chuckling softly at his reaction, when she took hold of him in her left hand and began to stroke him languidly, driving all thoughts of protest from his mind. She watched him for a few moments, seemingly enjoying his reactions to her stimulation. Tsuruko then gave him a smile unlike any he’d ever seen before, and then she moved her head over, parted her lips, and took the head of his shaft into her mouth.

Keitaro let out a loud groan as he felt her lips and tongue on his most sensitive area. Holding him with her left hand, she took hold of his scrotum with her right hand and gently squeezed, all of the while swirling her tongue around his head. Keitaro closed his eyes and arched his back, completely overwhelmed by Tsuruko’s ministrations. He clenched his teeth and gripped the bed sheets tightly, trying to maintain some control, but mostly surrendering to the feeling of ecstasy shooting through him.. He groaned even louder when Tsuruko took more of him into her mouth, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

Keitaro had overheard locker room talk about oral sex, in hushed, almost reverent tones, but he’d always figured they’d been exaggerating -nothing could be as good as they’d described, could it? He’d been quite wrong. It was better than he’d ever dared imagine it would be, and it was getting better with every wet, moist move Tsuruko made. He could feel himself approaching a climax; his entire body was tensing up in preparation for that final release.

He was close, so maddeningly close, that it was almost painful when Tsuruko pulled her head back, letting his member slip out with an almost audible ’pop’.

“You like that?” Tsuruko teased.

“Y-yes!” Keitaro managed to gasp.

“Want me to stop?”

“N-no…” Keiataro practically whimpered. “Please.” he all but begged, “don’t stop…” he cried out again when she placed her tongue at the base of his penis licked him up the underside of it’s length before she took him in her mouth again.

Keitaro withstood the attention for another minute or so, before he felt himself about to release. He tried to warn Tsuruko -push her away- but she ignored him, moving faster and drawing her cheeks in tightly as she wrapped her hand around him, her thumb lightly tickling the base of his shaft and very nearly making him pass out. He tried valiantly to hold himself off, but it was too much. With an unrestrained cry, he finally came, the world going grey around the edges as he filled Tsuruko’s mouth with his seed.

He spasmed for a few seconds, the orgasm overriding his self control. Tsuruko continued to lick and suck, even as his erection began to deflate. Gradually, Keitaro regained control of his breathing and he lay still as Tsuruko finally ceased her ministrations, smiling that same gentle smile she’d worn earlier.

Keitaro was at a complete loss for words, and even if he hadn’t been, he felt that speaking would shatter the moment. So he stayed silent, running his hand through Tsuruko’s hair, and feeling his heart rate gradually return to normal. ‘Now what?’ he asked himself. ‘I think I know what to do, but…’ Keitaro wasn’t sure if he should make the next move or wait for Tsuruko. After a few minutes he decided to take a chance.

He sat up and pulled Tsuruko close, kissing her gently, before he laid her back down on the bed. On his hands and knees, he tried to repeat Tsuruko’s actions, kissing her chestas she had kissed his before moving down her stomach towards her waist. But when he reached her hakama pants, Keitaro stopped cold. He had no idea how to undo them, and he looked back at Tsuruko with a sheepish expression.

With a wry smile, Tsuruko reached down and undid the fastenings, before laying back and lifting her hips, allowing Keitaro to remove them completely. Once this was done, he took a moment to finish removing his own pants and underwear, as well as both his and Tsuruko’s socks. Tsuruko’s legs were magnificent -well shaped and baby smooth, and approximately a mile long… or so it seemed to Keitaro as he ran his eyes greedily along their length. If she hadn’t been a swordsman, Tsuruko could have easily gone into modeling.

All Tsuruko was now wearing was her traditional tied-on undergarment. Keitaro didn’t know what it signified, if anything, but he knew it looked ravishing on her. As he slowly reached to remove it, a fresh wave of nervousness washed over him. It seemed absurd, considering what had already happened, but Keitaro had trouble keeping his hands from shaking as he took hold of the garment.

Slowly, more to be gentle than sensuous, Keitaro eased the underwear down Tsuruko’s legs, keeping his eyes down, not wanting to see her until he was finished. Once he’d tossed the garment aside, he closed his eyes, took yet another deep, calming breath and allowed the sight of a nude Tsuruko to enter his vision.

Gorgeous, Keitaro decided, wasn’t a good enough word. Even ‘flawless’ didn’t do Tsuruko justice. Her hair, her face, her body, everything was so perfect. He felt truly humbled to be in her presence, and despite the fact that he’d recently orgasmed, he felt himself stir a little.

Tentatively moving toward her, Keitaro took hold of Tsuruko’s right leg, gently cradling her calf, admiring the almost unnatural smoothness of her skin. He kissed the inside of her leg, just above the knee, deciding that while he knew what he needed to do, he wasn’t about to rush in blindly. Keitaro slowly kissed her leg, moving up higher and higher on her inner thigh, his intentions clear. He got to within an inch where her legs joined before he pulled himself back abruptly, still nervous about doing the wrong thing.

After taking a moment to recompose himself, he turned his attention to the left leg and repeated the process, this time taking even longer to move up her thigh. By this time Tsuruko was fidgeting, and while she seemed to enjoy the attention, it was becoming obvious to Keitaro that she was losing her patience. ‘Here we go…’ he thought to himself.

Breathing in the heady aroma of Tsuruko’s musk, Keitaro gently placed a kiss just above her patch of downy, black pubic hair. Truthfully, he didn’t have a clue about what he was doing, but he knew that after what she had done for him, it would be unfair to not return the favor. He hoped that what he’d heard about what he was about to do was true, and that Tsuruko would at least be understanding if he performed poorly.

Keitaro slowly moved his kisses down towards her labia, his insecurity rising as he got closer, even as the simple thought ‘don‘t stop‘ ran over and over through his mind. Her pubic hair was tickling his nose when he gently, almost to the point of cautiously, placed his lips upon Tsuruko’s lower ones. Nothing adverse happened, so he did it again, this time running the tip of his tongue along their length. Tsuruko hummed softly and moved beneath him. Feeling somewhat reassured, he began to gently kiss and lick for a few minutes, before he carefully took one of her labia between his lips and gently suckled it.

Tsuruko moaned softly and placed a hand on Keitaro’s head, effectively holding him in place as she pushed herself up to him. Keitaro carefully slid his tongue between her lips and lightly licked inside of Tsuruko as far as he could reach. From the gasps this caused, Keitaro figured that he must have been doing something right. He increased the rate of his lapping, attempting to drive deeper, as Tsuruko continued to pull his head tighter against herself.

Keitaro saw Tsuruko’s clitoris and decided to focus his efforts there. He flicked his tongue over it a few times and was startled when Tsuruko cried out in response. He placed it between his lips and sawed his teeth against it, remembering she’d enjoyed that on her nipples. Tsuruko was moaning now and breathing in shallow pants by that point, and Keitaro could see that her face was flushed and her eyes seemed to lose their focus.

It was also getting wetter between her legs, Keitaro belatedly realized, covering his chin and lips in thin sheen of moisture. He found the scent of Tsuruko intriguing, and it seemed to spur him on. He increased his efforts, eager to bring Tsuruko to the brink -both to pay her back for her efforts and to see if he could do it. When he felt both of her hands on the back of his head, and when she began to cry out unabashedly, he figured that Tsuruko was close to climaxing.

Speeding up his tongue yet again, even though it was starting to ache from the effort, Keitaro went all out in his efforts to satisfy Tsuruko, closing his eyes and slipping his tongue as deeply into her as he could This last touch seemed to be enough for Tsuruko. As she climaxed, she pulled on his head so hard it was almost painful, and the cry she let out made him wonder if people in the neighboring rooms had heard it.

Like Tsuruko, Keitaro kept up his efforts, even after her orgasm, waiting until she’d calmed down before giving his tongue the rest it needed. As he slowly pulled back, he kissed her inner thighs, noticing with some wonder that there was now a wet spot on the bed sheet. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, surprised at the effort that had been required, before he moved up and laid down next to Tsuruko.

Again, nothing was said as they moved onto an embrace and exchanged a languid kiss. It was different now: less frantic… more passionate and heartfelt. Not better or worse than the previous kisses, simply different. After a few minutes, Tsuruko reached down and took hold of Keitaro’s member. It had been nearly fully erect, and her touch helped it reach it’s final stage of arousal, swelling against her fingers as a soft groan slipped past his lips.

With a last feather-like kiss, Tsuruko moved on top of Keitaro, straddling him once again. Holding herself up with her left hand, she used her right hand to position Keitaro against her before sinking down onto him.

Keitaro let out a soft cry; the warmth… the tightness… the feeling… it was unlike anything he had imagined. When Tsuruko had used her mouth, Keitaro could not have thought that there could be anything that could surpass that warm, slippery wet feeling, but this was even better than that. When Tsuruko leaned forward to kiss him again, he placed his left hand behind her head, his right on her lower back, and crushed his lips against hers.

Tsuruko’s long hair was falling against his face, creating an almost angelic touch, which struck Keitaro as appropriate, because Heaven, he figured, must feel exactly like this. Keitaro broke off the kiss, moving his lips to Tsuruko’s right earlobe, suckling it, and trying desperately to memorize each of her undeniably sexy grunts, gasps, and moans. After several minute of agonizingly passionate thrusting, Keitaro happened to glance up over her shoulder, noticing the mirror over the bed. This had struck him as tacky earlier in the evening, but now the sight of him and Tsuruko writhing together excited him even more than he would have ever thought possible.

Keitaro moved his hands to Tsuruko’s hips, taking hold of them and driving himself upwards in time with her downward thrusts. This increased the penetration, causing Keitaro to start grunting as he thrust upwards, burying himself over and over inside of her warm, incredibly tight passage. Tsuruko was holding him around the neck, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest as she moved faster and faster, clearly seeking a second orgasm. He could hear her panting and feel her warm breath in his right ear, never quite forming words, but resonating in Keitaro‘s mind more than the most eloquent poetry he had ever heard. They mutually increased their tempo, eager to drive the other to climax.

“Kei-Keitaro!” Tsuruko gasped in his ear.

“Tsuruko…” It felt as if she was getting tighter, and Keitaro knew he was moments away from going off.

With one last, surprisingly savage thrust, Tsuruko impaled herself on Keitaro‘s manhood, shuddering violently as she came. Her unabashed cry, along with the spasmodic gripping of her vaginal muscles was too much for Keitaro to take. With a throaty cry and an arching back, Keitaro fired his seed deep into Tsuruko.

The two of them slumped against the other, completely spent. They lay there, each trying to get their wind back, and savoring the closeness of the other. Eventually, Tsuruko rolled off of Keitaro, and rested her head against his chest, her arms around him. Keitaro wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, thinking that this way - winded, and soaked in sweat- Tsuruko looked even better than before.

Tsuruko raised her head and gave him one last kiss before she put her head back on his chest and fell asleep.

As Keitaro felt himself fall into the oblivion of sleep, he happened to take one last look out the window. ‘Rain’s stopped,’ he noticed, before sleep claimed him as well.

XXX

When dawn broke the next morning, the skies were clear and blue. All traces of the previous night’s storm had vanished, save for some puddles here and there, and the odd sign of weather damage.

Sunlight pierced the windows of the love hotel and found Keitaro face down on the bed, his left arm hanging over the edge and resting on the floor. As he slowly regained consciousness, he was assaulted by the unmistakable symptoms of a hangover. The sunlight hurt his eyes, even though they were shut, but moving would be too painful, so he was forced to endure it. His head was pounding and he was hearing a faint buzzing in his ears.

‘Someone, please, kill that fly. Quietly.’ There wasn’t much else he could do, so Keitaro killed time by studying the texture of the carpet with his fingertips. ‘Man, weird dream… What did Shinobu put in that meal? I feel like… Wait. Carpet? There’s no carpet in my room…’

As successive neurons were reluctantly kicked awake, more details made themselves known to Keitaro. ‘I’m in a bed. This isn’t my futon… This isn’t my room…’ With a growing sense of dread, he continued his analysis. ‘What’s that buzzing noise? That’s not a bug, it sounds like…breathing. Oh, dear god, I didn’t…’

Carefully, he opened his eyes, wincing and shutting them as naked sunlight dazzled him. Keitaro brought his left hand up to shield his eyes and took a look around. It was a hotel room, he was disturbed to realize. ‘Which, which means that wasn’t a dream? Oh no, oh please no…’ With the terrified resignation of a man taking a seat in the electric chair, he slowly turned his head to the right, hoping to the last for his assumptions to be wrong, sending off silent prayers to every divine being in the pantheon.

Despite all his hopes and prayers, there was an apparently naked woman with black hair and her back to him sleeping on the other side of the bed. ‘I, I’m naked too,’ he belatedly realized. Panic induced desperation set in. ‘May-maybe this isn’t what it looks like, maybe that’s Naru wearing a wig, maybe I just fell asleep and got out of my wet clothes before I did…’

His senses dispassionately put an end to these half-crazed thoughts. There was scent in the air that Keitaro had never encountered before, but on an instinctual level he knew what it was. There were stains on the bed sheets, and he knew with depressing certainty that he hadn’t wet the bed. Finally, his last hope, that somehow that was Naru sleeping, was obliterated when Tsuruko rolled over onto her right side, naked as the day she was born. She stirred and reached out for him, sleepily murmuring “Toshio-kun…”

Keitaro’s only response was a strangled gasp.

Tsuruko slowly opened her eyes, wincing as she did so. She blinked a few times to clear them before she locked her bleary eyes on Keitaro. “Toshio?” she asked, not having fully woken up. Then her focus came back and she found herself staring at Keitaro, whose face was frozen in a rictus of panic. “U-Urashima?”

Keitaro was incapable of speech at that moment, so all he could do was nod stiffly.

With a cry of horror, mixed with despair, Tsuruko sprang from the bed, hastily wrapping herself in a bed sheet when she realized she was naked.

Keitaro lurched back, managing to grab a pillow before he fell out of the bed and hit his head on the floor. Despite the way his head was spinning, he managed to cover himself with the pillow, preserving his modesty, if not his dignity.

The look on Tsuruko’s face when she’d realized what had happened would haunt Keitaro until the day he died. “I, I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m sorry!” He felt tears forming in his eyes. His hangover was annihilated, blasted away by rage at himself for letting this happen, and self loathing. A voice in the back of his mind was cursing him for not getting a room on a higher floor.

“Why are you sorry?” Tsuruko asked numbly, after a few moments of looking around the room, hoping that there was another explanation for the current state of affairs.

“I, I should have left, I shouldn’t have stayed, I should’ve sent you home, I shouldn’t have forced myself…”

Tsuruko let out a bitter, humorless, laugh. “YOU forcing yourself on ME?” She started laughing, but it looked like she might end up crying herself.

“If I hadn’t stayed-”

“I think I jumped YOU, remember? That’s how I repaid your kindness...”

“It’s not your fault!”

“Yes it is! I started it!”

“I could have left!” Keitaro desperately exclaimed.

Tsuruko fixed him with a withering glare. “As if you could have gotten away from me…”

Keitaro put his face in his hands, feeling sick to the very bottom of his soul. “I should have done something…”

“We’ll talk more later,” Tsuruko said, effectively terminating the discussion. “I need a shower. Don’t… please don’t leave while I’m using it.” She walked into the bathroom without looking back.

Keitaro didn’t even look up, he just held his head in his hands. ‘I’m dead! I’m dead! I slept with Motoko’s sister!’ His thoughts stayed on this tangent until he heard Tsuruko clear her throat. He looked up and saw her standing on the other side of the bed, wearing a hotel bathrobe.

“It’s your turn to shower,” she said quietly.

“Okay.” Keitaro slowly got to his feet and stiffly walked to the bathroom. He couldn’t bear to look Tsuruko in the eyes. In the bathroom, he placed his hands on the sink, let out a shuddering sigh and reluctantly took a look in the mirror. The overhead lighting created shadows around his eyes, reminding him of images he’d seen of the damned.

“Fitting, isn’t it?” he asked himself. He noticed that his back was a little sore, and he turned to look at it in the mirror. He couldn’t hold back a gasp at what he saw. ‘She, she scratched me!’ Rows of fingernail scratches were running vertically along his shoulder blades. Thinking back, he recalled that she’d done that during one of her orgasms. ‘If Naru or the others see this…’ The probable reaction was too horrible for him to contemplate.

He stepped into the shower, hissing in pain as the hot water struck the fresh scratches on his back, and letting the water flow over him like he was a statue. ‘What, what do I do? I’m the other man!’

No solutions came to him in the shower, despite what he’d seen on TV, so he simply did a through job of washing himself. It was if he believed that if he scrubbed hard enough, he could wash away his guilt and shame. He was also concerned that perhaps one of the residents would smell something on him and get suspicious.

Finally clean in body, if not soul, he put on another robe and left the washroom, half-dreading that Tsuruko would attack him in rage, and half-hoping that she would do a complete job if she did. Tsuruko was sitting on the bed, dressed as she’d been the night before. She silently watched as he walked over to his clothes and got dressed as quickly as he could.

“We need to talk.”

Keitaro nearly jumped out of his skin. ‘Don’t be so goddamn jumpy! Calm down! How am I supposed to hide this if I act like this?’ The advice was easier to think than to implement. With a quavering voice, he asked “N-now?”

Tsuruko shook her head. “Not here. I think we should leave.”

“Yeah,” rasped Keitaro.

The two of them left the room as fast as they could without actually running, Keitaro all but throwing the keycard into the return slot. They walked out into the sunlight, Keitaro wondering how it looked to people on the street. ‘It IS exactly what it looks like,’ he realized. ‘This WAS a secret tryst.’ this thought sent him spiraling further into depression.

Tsuruko and Keitaro walked to a coffee shop, by mutual unspoken accord, not the one that they’d been in the night before. They walked in, were seated and both ordered tea. The idea of drinking coffee made Keitaro’s stomach turn, and not because of the hangover. Once served, they sat in an uncomfortable silence, neither wanting to speak first.

After a few interminable minutes, Keitaro realized that if he didn’t say something he’d go insane. “About last night…” He kicked himself mentally for using such a stupid, cliché line.

Tsuruko was too preoccupied to care. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Keitaro sighed in frustration. “Yes it is! If I hadn’t taken you there…”

“What else could you have done?”

“Taken you home, to a legitimate hotel, to Hinata House, something!”

Tsuruko chuckled mirthlessly. “How could you have known what would happen?”

“I should have dropped you off and ran like hell!”

“That’s not your way, is it Urashima? You were worried about me. Even now, after what happened, you’re still trying to take the blame for me. You’re a very good man.”

Keitaro massaged his temples. “I slept with a married woman. How’s that make me a good man?”

“You’re kind, compassionate, gentle, loyal, and you aren’t cruel, even unwillingly. That makes you a good person.” A distant look came over her eyes. “In some ways, a better man than my husband.”

“What, what do you mean?”

Tsuruko looked him squarely in the eye. “Toshio can be a wonderful man. He’s handsome, graceful, and charming. He never willingly causes pain, and he’s supportive and understanding.”

Listening to Tsuruko talk about her husband in such warm terms made Keitaro’s sense of shame grow even more.

“But in some ways he isn’t half as good as you are,” Tsuruko added. “He can also be very cruel and abusive.”

Keitaro blinked in shock. “He, he hits you?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Sometimes words can be more hurtful than blades.”

“…I know…”

“The sad part is he doesn’t mean to be cruel. He doesn’t know how his words hurt, or how bad it feels when he’s cold and distant.”

“Do, do you tell him?”

Tsuruko sighed deeply. “He doesn’t see it as a problem. While he’d kill himself before he’d hit me, he doesn’t believe that his words and actions can hurt even more.”

Keitaro felt an almost overpowering urge to take her in his arms and comfort her. ‘My God, this is tearing her up inside!’

“But you, you are the kindest, gentlest, most compassionate man I’ve ever known. And my sister wanted nothing to do with you. She’s a fool.”

Keitaro didn’t know what to say, so he kept silent.

“Don’t let her say that makes you less of a man. It takes more courage to be compassionate than to be cruel.”

Keitaro pondered what Tsuruko had told him for a few minutes, mulling over the idea that there was more than one way to hurt someone. ‘I know, Naru’s words sometimes hurt worse than her fists.’

Then an unsettling thought entered his mind. The way she’d described him made a cold ball appear in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to ask the question that came to him, but he felt that he needed to know. “Why did you come here all the way from Kyoto? Were you planning on visiting Motoko or…?” He let the question trail off, afraid to even voice his concern. ‘Or were you looking for someone? Me?’

“I came here to get away,” Tsuruko replied evenly. “Wandering around Kyoto, I might have met some of my acquaintances, I didn’t want to have to explain myself to them. I was a long way from Hinata House. I didn’t expect to run into any of you.”

Keitaro let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “So, what do we do?”

“I’m going home, I’d suggest you do the same.”

“We keep it a secret?”

Tsuruko narrowed her eyes. “Unless you want to tell everyone.”

“No, no, no, I’ll keep my mouth shut. But, won’t To- your husband suspect something?”

“I don’t think so,” Tsuruko replied. “He’s never had reason to before. What about you?”

Keitaro slumped in his chair. “They might,” he admitted. “I was gone overnight, who knows what they’ll think.”

“What will you tell them?” Tsuruko inquired softly.

“I’ll think of something. Kitsune is going to hound me over this. But even if they do suspect something, they’ll never suspect you. They wouldn’t believe it was you even if I told them,” Keitaro added grimly.

“Then that’s it. We part ways and go home. It never happened.”

“Yes.”

“Take care Urashima,” said Tsuruko as she stood up to leave. “And, thank you.”

“For what?” he asked incredulously.

“For listening. For caring. For your compassion. For just being there for me.”

‘You’re welcome, I guess,” he replied awkwardly. “Take care, and, and, good luck Tsuruko.”

“You too. Oh, and Keitaro?”

He blinked at the use of his first name. “Yes?”

“This is… unusual… but even though it shouldn’t have happened… it was special.” Tsuruko then turned and walked out, leaving no trace of her presence, save in Keitaro’s memories.

Keitaro stayed in the café for another half hour, thinking about all that had happened in the last twelve hours. Then he sighed one last time, paid the bill, squared his shoulders, and began the journey back to Hinata House.

He wasn’t sure what would happen now, but in his heart, he knew that things would never be the same again.

To Be Continued

Author’s Notes: So, why am I wasting my time writing this instead of working of ‘Aftermath’? Once again, the wall. I’ve hit it again, so I decided to take a different tack, and work on something else I’ve wanted to do for some time.

I’ve wanted to try a Tsuruko/Keitaro story for a while. I know that there are some already out there, but I didn’t want to do a story that used Tsuruko’s husband dying from cancer/car crash/struck by an engine that dropped off an over-flying 747, plot device. I felt it was a cop-out, and just a little too convenient. But I couldn’t figure out how to start it.

Then I saw an idea posted by SimmyC.

…and that’s when the light bulb went on.

After asking for, and receiving, his permission to borrow the idea, the story almost wrote itself.

Random1377 took a look at this story, and did his best to purge it of my sometimes wooden dialogue.

Thanks man!