Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Ships in the Night ❯ Rocks and Shoals ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: hawker_748 
Anime/Manga: Love Hina Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.07.2006 | Updated On: 01.07.2006 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.2K | Visits: 3.5K | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Love Hina Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.07.2006 | Updated On: 01.07.2006 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.2K | Visits: 3.5K | Status: Work In Progress
See Chapter One
C+C is welcome at hawker(underscore)748(at)hotmail(dot)com. Goddamn QuickEdit…
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
Manga continuity, after the “Burn-Up Blade” story line
Love Hina:
Ships in the Night
Chapter Two: Rocks and Shoals
The walk back to Hinata House was interminable to Keitaro, but at the same time it felt as if it passed in a flash. He hadn’t come directly home; he’d stopped in yet another coffee shop, gone to the washroom, secured himself in one of the stalls, and thoroughly examined his clothing.
Keitaro had been having nightmarish thoughts of entering the residence and having Naru walk up to him and pluck a long black hair off of his shoulder. Even if she didn’t know whose hair it was, her reaction wouldn’t be pleasant. ‘If she even suspected whose it was, or even worse, Motoko…’ he couldn’t finish the thought and keep the nerve to return home.
Continuing to examine his clothes with a thoroughness that would have impressed a trained crime scene investigator, Keitaro found that more and more details of the previous night were coming back to him, like specters emerging from the fog. He had a particularly clear image of looking over Tsuruko’s shoulder and seeing their writhing reflection in the mirror over the bed. Shaking his head to clear that thought, he struggled to stay focused on what he was doing.
He plucked a stray hair off of the back of one of his pant legs. ‘Blonde? Don’t they ever vacuum those rooms? Maybe it’s alright,’ he mused. ‘Who knows whose hair is in those rooms. Still…’ There was no reason to give Naru and Motoko any more ammunition than necessary. ‘Explaining where I was is going to be bad enough…’
Satisfied that he was as presentable as possible, and with no apparent evidence of his transgression, he’d resumed his journey home, briefly detouring to buy a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, gagging terribly, and blew the smoke over himself, trying to disguise any possible olfactory evidence. Discarding the finished cigarette, along with the rest of the pack, he continued walking until he found himself staring up the stairs to Hinata House.
Taking a deep breath to marshal his courage, and finishing the soda he’d bought to chase away the cigarette breath, he slowly began his ascent, using all of his willpower to put up an innocent, but haggard, front. With one last calming breath, he opened the front door and announced his return. “I’m home!”
“Sempai!” cried Shinobu. “Where were you? I was so worried!” She ran up to him and gave him a grateful hug, before she realized what she was doing and stepped back, blushing furiously.
Summoned by his call, the other residents quickly made their way into the living room. “Where were you Keitaro?” Naru asked, keeping her voice strangely neutral, and watching him closely.
“Lemme guess, you met some hot babe and spent the night in a love hotel, right?” teased Kitsune.
Keitaro had been expecting and preparing for Kitsune making just such a comment, and so he was able to prevent himself from going ashen. “No, no, no, nothing like that.” He was still a little disturbed by the mock accusation. Fortunately, the residents put down his demeanor as embarrassment, not guilt.
Motoko took a step towards him and regarded him closely. Keitaro did his best to not fidget under her scrutiny. She then wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You smell like one of Haruka’s ashtrays, Urashima.”
“What happened last night?” Naru asked, her face betraying no emotion.
“I went for a walk.”
“I know,” Naru growled. “Where were you?”
“I was walking around, got soaked, and went into some smokey bar to warm up.” While walking home, Keitaro had decided that his best option was to stick to the truth as much as possible. With minor omissions. “I stayed too long, drank too much, and could hardly stand. I staggered to a hotel, checked in, and passed out.”
“Why didn’t you call a cab?” asked Shinobu.
“Too expensive.”
A grin came over Kitsune’s face. “You should have told me what you were planning. Next time, mention my name.”
“Why?”
“Most bars around here have a cot set up for me for when I’ve had too much,” she informed him cheerfully.
Keitaro paused to consider that, and realized that Kitsune probably wasn’t kidding. “I see… Well, I‘m home now…” He moved away, planning on heading for his room, when Naru stopped him cold with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hold it. Where are you going now?”
“I stink like cigarettes, Naru.” Keitaro replied. “I need some clean clothes and a bath.”
“Didn’t you wash up this morning?” inquired Motoko.
Keitaro smiled weakly. “You know what goes on in those hotels. I feel… dirty.”
Naru yanked back her hand with a disgusted look. She briefly considered pounding Keitaro, but she’d have to touch him again to do it. She stared at her hand, a sick look on her face. “Shinobu, where’s the bleach?”
Taking this as his cue to leave, Keitaro started up the stairs, only to stop short when Naru called out to him. “Hey Keitaro?”
He looked back over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Call next time, alright? Shinobu was worried, you know?”
The ghost of a smile she gave him sent a pang of guilt through Keitaro. “I understand.” He couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.
XXX
Safely inside his private bath, Keitaro allowed himself to drop his guard. ‘I, I did it…’ His success gave him little satisfaction, for which he was somewhat reassured. ‘I don’t want to have to do that again…’ He knew he had to though. He had to conceal this for the rest of his life. If he didn’t, the ‘rest of his life’ would only be as long as he kept it a secret.
With this thought at the back of his mind, he disrobed, and gave himself a through examination. He looked at this back in the mirror. The scratches were still there, ten parallel red streaks running vertically up and down his shoulder blades. ‘I hope those heal without scarring.’ Fortunately, there were no other scratches, but looking down at himself, Keitaro noticed something else he’d overlooked up to now. ‘Is-is that a bite mark?’
At the very top of his left leg, there was, in fact, a bite mark. Keitaro was almost certain that he hadn’t put it there himself. In a flash, he remembered. Tsuruko had been kissing him around that area, when she’d playfully bitten him. She’d chuckled softly when he’d squawked, before she’d smiled wickedly at him, moved her head to the left and…
When he felt himself beginning to stir, Keitaro slammed his fist into the wall, wincing in pain, but at the same time welcoming the overwhelming sensation, using it to clear the vivid recollection from his mind. ‘Quit thinking about that! This isn’t something for pleasant recollection!’ Cradling his now throbbing hand, Keitaro went to the little shower and turned the cold water on full blast. Sharply drawing in a breath as the frigid water washed over him, reminding him of his walk the night before, he used the shockingly cold water to drive away the heated memories.
Satisfied that his X-rated trip down memory lane had been cancelled, or at least postponed, Keitaro eased himself into the tub. The hot water worked to relax his tense muscles, but it did nothing to ease his troubled thoughts. ‘How did this happen? How did I let this happen?’ He believed he knew the answer, but he was having difficulty reconciling himself with the fact.
‘I wanted it, didn’t I?’ he wondered. ‘If I really wanted to stop it, I could have done more, couldn’t I? And why did I leave last night? I’ve taken worse beatings than that. God… If only I’d stayed home…’ Keitaro slumped down in the tub, the water just under his nose. ‘The one time I decide to go away to clear my head, this happens… Who did I piss off in a previous life?’
In addition to his indiscretion, Keitaro was troubled by the fact that the experience had been so enjoyable. Under different circumstances, and with a different girl, (a certain bespectacled brunette resident came to mind) he might have felt victorious this morning. He’d finally gotten laid! He wasn’t a virgin anymore. Maybe the alcohol had helped, but it hadn’t been the clumsy, fumbling with each other, amateur experience that some of his classmates had admitted to, it had been an experience to write home about. Well, maybe not home, but certainly to some of the magazines he had discretely hidden away in his room…
Despite the guilt he was feeling, Keitaro felt a bittersweet smile come over his features as he mentally replayed part of the night. ‘She was so beautiful, so patient with me, so… playful. Is she always like that?’ he found himself wondering. ‘When we…did it…she was so gentle, even when I-’
Keitaro lurched up in the tub suddenly, sending water cascading over the edge. “Oh shit!”
“Are you okay Keitaro?” came Naru’s voice from just outside the door.
Keitaro paled. ‘Are they listening outside?’ “I-I’m alright Naru, I, I just stubbed my toe, that’s all…” He silently prayed that Naru wouldn’t come in to check on him. It was unlikely, but before last night, he wouldn’t have bet on a one night stand with Tsuruko either.
“Your toe? Jeez Keitaro, you sounded like you’d found a body in there. Grow up a little.” Keitaro heard steps retreating away from the door, and Naru muttering, “Idiot…”
One crisis dealt with, Keitaro went back to the more pressing issue. ‘We didn’t use protection!’ he recalled in a panic. ‘I, I could, she could…’ He couldn’t even get his thoughts in order. Even thought the water in the tub was hot, Keitaro found himself start to tremble. ‘A dad, I, I could be a dad…’ His head swam as he contemplated the possible outcomes of his mistake. A few minutes earlier, he’d been feeling some relief that the worst was over. Now he was realizing the full scope and possible consequences of his error.
Keitaro tried to calm himself down. ‘Take it easy, this isn’t a soap opera, she doesn’t have to get pregnant after one night… I probably have a single digit sperm count anyway…’ A few minutes more of self-depreciation, and Keitaro was feeling a little more at ease. But he couldn’t push the thought that Tsuruko could possibly be carrying his child completely out of his mind. ‘I’ll know in a couple of weeks, I guess…’
Having somewhat reassured himself, Keitaro allowed himself to sink back down into the tub, feeling the liquid warmth washing over him. He closed his eyes and tried to let himself drift away from all of his troubles for awhile. But he couldn’t stop himself from having images of a heart-broken and tearful Naru from entering his mind, or stem the tide of memories of the night with Tsuruko.
When his frenetic mind finally allowed him to doze off, his last waking thought was of Tsuruko. If one of the residents had entered the bathroom to wake him, they would have wondered about the enigmatic smile he was wearing as he slept.
XXX
Over the next couple of days, things slowly got back to normal at Hinata House. More than one resident noted that Keitaro seemed especially twitchy; they’d had to pry him off the ceiling after they told him that there was a call for him. He seemed to collapse with relief when it was only a telemarketer. He appeared to calm down after a week, and got back to his usual behavior
There were fewer incidents of Keitaro doing something stupid and getting clobbered for it, and this was due to Keitaro, Naru, and Motoko working together towards a common goal, although none of them knew about the other. Keitaro was taking great pains to not do anything really dumb, like entering a room without warning, and being very careful where he placed his hands at all times. ‘After all, if I don’t do something stupid, they won’t get mad, right?’ he told himself.
Acting independently, Naru and Motoko had both decided to cut Keitaro a little slack and give him a chance to explain himself before they reacted. Their decision to act more reasonably, combined with Keitaro’s efforts to deal with his clumsiness, caused a noticeable decline in the amount of collateral damage inflicted on Hinata House. Keitaro was spending a lot less time repairing the walls and roof, and Naru and Motoko weren’t so angry all the time.
November gave way to December; rain gave way to snow, and soon Hinata house was covered by a beautiful white blanket. Spirits were high, due to both the season and the measurable drop in tension in the residence. Keitaro and Naru were getting along better, the former working hard to avoid doing stupid things, and the latter struggling to not lash out prematurely. Even Motoko would admit that Keitaro’s behavior had improved in her eyes. There were still mix-ups that resulted in Keitaro getting pounded, but they were far less frequent. Outwardly, Keitaro appeared to be calm and focused, mindful of his actions, and clear of conscience.
Inwardly, it was a whole different story…
Anytime the residents, especially Naru, smiled at him, or complimented him, Keitaro felt a sharp pang of guilt. He hadn’t forgotten his transgression with Tsuruko, and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive himself. It didn’t matter to him that no one else knew; he knew. He had to look in the mirror every morning, and he didn’t like the face he saw there. He had lied to people who trusted him, and he had to continue to do so.
Ironically, the accusations of being a pervert had almost completely stopped, but only after he’d done something to earn that title. If he’d been in a different mindset, that might have struck him as amusing. If he wanted to salve his conscience, he would have to talk about it, but there was no one he could talk to. Talking to any of the residents would have been tantamount to suicide. He didn’t think that Seta could keep this confidential, and Haruka… Keitaro wasn’t sure how she would react, and if he guessed wrong…
What really tormented Keitaro however, was the mixed feelings he was having about his one night stand. If he was only feeling shame, regret, guilt and remorse, than he would have felt better about himself. He would have felt like an otherwise decent guy who made one horrible mistake.
But when he inevitably thought of Tsuruko, the feelings that welled up inside him weren’t entirely negative…
As awful as he felt about what had happened, if he been given an opportunity to live that night over, he couldn’t say with absolute conviction that he would change how things had played out.
Keitaro’s mind was awash with a confusing array of emotions. He had no experience with what he was feeling at the moment. ‘I’ve never had an affair before,’ he thought miserably. ‘I’ve never even had SEX before. What am I supposed to feel? What am I supposed to do?’
Through it all, he kept up his façade of normalcy, never daring to give even a glimpse of the emotional turmoil he was enduring. He continued to be ‘an improved Keitaro’ as Naru had thought of him, bearing his cross in silent torment.
Christmas came, and with it the exchanging of presents. Both his budget and his gift giving skills had improved with time, and his gifts to the residents were more heartfelt and appreciated. Naru in particular loved the beautiful silk scarf that he gave her. When asked where he’d found it, he’d chuckled nervously and said it was just some shop downtown.
He wasn’t about to tell her that it had been a lingerie shop, or that he found himself wondering what Naru would look like in some of the items in the store. And he would absolutely never reveal, even upon pain of death, what had happened during his fantasy. As he imagined Naru in a rather slinky black demi-cup bra and thong panties, the image in his mind changed; the hair grew darker, the skin lighter, the height taller, and the bust larger, until the picture in his mind’s eye had morphed from Naru to Tsuruko.
Shaken, and more aroused than he cared to admit, Keitaro had shaken his head to clear the sudden intrusion, grabbed the first thing that wasn’t overtly sexual, paid, and bolted from the store as if his tail feathers were on fire. Outside the store, he’d opened his jacket, letting the frigid air wash over him, shocking his mind into clarity. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a fantasy starring Tsuruko, but it was the first time where she’d replaced Naru. He’d walked back to Hinata House slowly, wondering if his mind would ever let him live it down.
While visiting the shrine on New Year’s Day, he offered silent wishes that he could learn to forgive himself for his mistake, and that his thoughts would cease taunting him. When he drew a fortune, he didn’t get ‘worst luck‘, and he was actually thrilled to get a ‘little luck’ fortune. The residents thought it was strange to see Keitaro celebrating such a small bit of fortune, but they put it down to his natural optimism. After all, how many people would have kept trying for Tokyo University after failing three times?
XXX
“Flammable and inflammable mean the same thing… to-may-to, to-mah-to, po-tay-to, po-tah-to…” grumbled Naru.
Keitaro felt a strange compulsion to break into song…
“‘Goose’ plural is ‘geese’, but ‘moose’ plural isn’t ‘meese…’ ‘mouse’ plural is ‘mice’, but ‘house’ plural isn’t ‘hice…’ Arrgh! I hate English!” snarled Naru, throwing her notes up in frustration.
“What, what’s wrong Naru?” a startled Keitaro asked.
“Stupid English!” she seethed. “I know it’s important, knowledge of commerce and all that, but it drove me nuts on the entrance exam, and it still drives me crazy!”
Keitaro smiled weakly. “It is difficult, isn’t it?”
Naru let out a deep breath. “More frustrating than anything else. My brain hurts…”
“We could take a break…” Keitaro offered.
“No, no, gotta keep sharp Keitaro. Midterms are only three months away.”
“But it’s such a nice day…”
“Cold as hell though. It IS the middle of January, remember?” Naru groused.
Keitaro shrugged, and went back to his studies. After less than a minute he asked Naru, “Would you rather it was another language?”
“Like what?”
Keitaro pointed to Tama-chan happily flying around the room. “How about turtlese?”
Naru smiled in spite of her frustration. “Only Mutsumi would do well then. Would you like us to learn your language Tama-chan?”
“Myuh!”
“I can’t tell if that was yes, no, or I’m hungry…”
“Myuh! Myuh!”
“Relax Tama-chan, I’m just teasing,” Naru reassured the airworthy hot-springs turtle. Having burned through some of her aggravation, she went back to her school work, wrapping her housecoat tighter around herself and sliding more of herself under the kosatsu.
A knock came from the door. “Sempai?”
“What is it Shinobu?”
“Would you and Naru like some tea?”
Naru nodded as Keitaro replied, “Sure, come in.”
Shinobu entered bearing a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of cookies. “I, I brought a snack as well…”
“Thank you Shinobu,” Keitaro beamed.
Shinobu blushed in response and found herself studying her fingertips. “You-you’re welcome Sempai.” She turned to leave, but when she reached the door she added, “It-it’s nice to see you and Naru getting along so well…”
“Huh? What do you mean Shinobu?” asked a surprised Naru.
Really uncomfortable at being put on the spot, Shinobu replied, “You haven’t been hitting him as much, Naru-sempai. Excuse me, I need to go…” Without so much as another word, Shinobu closed the door, and the sounds of her rapidly retreating footfalls could be heard.
Naru’s eyes lost their focus as she appeared to be considering something. She then refocused her gaze on Keitaro, who fidgeted under her scrutiny. “What?” he asked nervously.
“She’s right.”
“If, if you say so…” Keitaro guardedly replied.
Naru slowly smiled. “I guess you can be a good guy if you want.”
Keitaro’s reaction wasn’t what Naru expected. Instead of puffing up with pride, he actually slumped, and Naru was sure she saw him wince. “Thanks…”
‘What’s up with him?’ Naru wondered, a little curious about his reaction. She wasn’t concerned enough to ask him about it though, so she resumed studying her hated English and sipping tea.
‘Even now, I can’t forget…’ Keitaro mused silently. ‘Even praise reminds me…’ He had been trying to behave himself, but mainly due to his guilt, and his attempts to keep it a secret. Under different circumstances the smile Naru had given him would have warmed his heart, but he found himself comparing it to the smile of another.
Keitaro viciously shook his head to clear it. ‘Keep focused on your studies…’ Immersing himself in his school work did help him keep memories and feelings at bay, he’d discovered. Besides, he always enjoyed studying with Naru. He threw himself into his studies, American History at the moment, and used the history of the race to the moon to clear his mind. He had worked his way from Alan Sheppard’s suborbital flight up to Wally Schirra, Don Eisle, and Walt Cunningham in Apollo 7, when Naru interrupted his concentration.
Naru stretched, yawned, and announced, “I need a nap.” She then slid three-quarters of the way under the kosatsu and told Keitaro to wake her in an hour or so. “Oh yeah, don’t even THINK about trying to kiss me when I’m asleep,” she warned.
Keitaro stammered that he understood and watched as Naru took off her glasses, lay down, and fell asleep within moments. Try to kiss her? He wasn’t stupid enough to try that again. Although he wouldn’t have minded it…
Sighing, he resumed his review of the U.S. space program, but he found that his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He closed his books and took a long look at the dozing Naru. ‘She’s beautiful when she’s sleeping. Just like an angel…’ Unwittingly, his thoughts started traveling on an unwelcome, but by now familiar path. ‘I wonder if Naru’s kisses would be as nice as Tsuruko’s…’ He and Naru had kissed a few times, but nothing like what had happened-
“Damn it!” Keitaro hissed, feeling a sudden urge to slap himself. He was doing it again, comparing Naru and Tsuruko. He also realized that he was feeling the initial stirrings of sexual arousal. ‘I need to get out of here. Now.’ He got to his feet and walked out, not trusting himself to even glance back at Naru.
He closed the door behind him and walked down the hall, down the stairs and headed for the first floor. In the living room he almost literally ran into Shinobu. “Sempai! What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
Keitaro smiled at the resident chef. “No Shinobu, nothing’s wrong,” he reassured her. “I just got tired of sitting around, I need to go for a walk, that’s all.”
“But, what about Naru?”
“She’s sleeping. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in an hour or so…”
Shinobu smile in appreciation. “Dress warm Sempai,” she advised him. “It’s cold outside.”
“I know, thanks.” He grabbed his thickest jacket, put his shoes on and walked out. The cold air hit him like a slap, chilling all his exposed skin, and flowing into his mouth and nose, making him hiss. His breath became fog in the frigid temperature, and it took Keitaro a moment to get accustomed to it. Zipping his jacket all the way up and putting his hands into his pockets, he went down the steps and began his walk.
The cold air helped clear Keitaro’s mind, and it cooled off his feverish thoughts. The walk also helped burn off some of his nervous energy, and he felt himself start to calm down and regain his focus. ‘That’s better… Just like a cold shower…’ He’d needed a few of those over the past couple months, when his mind would spontaneously start remembering that night, and his body acted accordingly. It could happen without warning, anytime, anywhere. Even nearly three months later, the memories were still fresh in his mind.
Keitaro’s thoughts were under control now, but he found himself wondering about Tsuruko. ‘Did she work things out with her husband? Did they talk? Did she tell him what happened? Probably not, I’m still alive…’ His thoughts of Tsuruko were either intense recollections of their night together, or ruminations of what she might be going through. ‘Do you ever think of me? Remember that night fondly? With regret? Both? Or did you put it out of your mind?’
Keitaro was puzzled by his curiosity. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help but want to know if she was having the same reactions he was months later. Once, he had even briefly entertained the thought of dropping by to check on her, before dismissing it as foolish, as well as possibly fatal. ‘It’s bad enough now, don’t be making it worse,’ he reprimanded himself.
The landlord of Hinata House came upon a bench and decided to sit down for awhile. He sat down, letting out a small yelp when the cold metal made its presence known, even through his clothes. He put his head back and stared at the clear blue sky, letting his thoughts wander. Images of the two women who had had the greatest impact on his life danced through his head. One beautiful and studious, whose fierce temper belied an especially soft, tender side, the other graceful and gorgeous; seemingly invulnerable, but concealing some personal pain.
“What do I do?” he asked the heavens. If the heavens had an answer for him, they kept it to themselves. After ten minutes or so of silent contemplation, Keitaro resigned himself to not having any solutions fall into his lap, so he got up and headed for home. ‘Naru wanted me to wake her up anyway. I guess there’s nothing I can do but just deal with it. Try to move on, I suppose. Now if I can just keep myself focused on my studies…’
XXX
“Kei-Keitaro!” the breathy voice softly gasped.
“Tsuruko…”
“Gah!” With a start, Keitaro’s eyes snapped open, the combination of dream and memory still sharp in his mind. He was soaked with sweat, he was breathing hard, and his boxers were struggling to contain his erection.
“Not again…” he murmured quietly. “Why won’t it stop?”
In addition to having to deal with memories during the day, Keitaro’d had his sleep interrupted many times by either nightmares or more pleasant dreams. The nightmares always involved the truth being discovered, and featured either Naru throwing an especially powerful punch at him when he was pinned against a brick wall, or Motoko’s blade traveling towards his throat. He always woke up before either connected, and one night his terrified scream had roused the other residents.
When asked what spooked him, he’d had to lie, yet again, and say that he couldn’t remember. Shinobu then made him some hot chocolate, which he’d guiltily accepted, while the other residents returned to bed, grumbling at the loss of sleep.
Tonight’s dream had been the other type.
Keitaro’d had erotic dreams before. They’d increased in frequency since he’d taken over as manager of Hinata House. Living here was like living in a hentai version of Disneyland; he’d seen more naked flesh, albeit accidentally, than he ever imagined possible. He’d even gotten rid of most his dirty magazines, as they were embarrassing to have, and he usually ended up seeing the real thing anyway.
But since that rainy night in November, they had happened far more frequently, and they were more…vivid…and went into much greater detail. Keitaro figured it was because before that night, it was only fantasy, speculation. Since then, it was mostly memory. Naru had been all but supplanted in his nocturnal fantasies, Tsuruko now reigned supreme. Many, many mornings Keitaro discovered that he’d have to discretely dispose of his underwear. He’d even started doing all of his own laundry. He’d told Shinobu that he was doing it to give her a break, but he was actually terrified of what the others would think if they somehow got a look at his laundry.
Keitaro looked at the clock. 3:12 AM. His state of arousal was so high, and he’d been so close to climaxing, that there was only one thing he could do, no matter how ashamed it made him feel. He bit his lip and started stroking himself, pleasure, shame and guilt warring in him for dominance. Eventually pleasure won out, but it was quickly replaced by guilt and shame.
Once again, he hadn’t thought of Naru, Kitsune, or even Motoko. He’d remembered the night with Tsuruko as he’d obtained some relief.
‘Why can’t I get over this?’ he asked himself.
‘Perhaps because it was so good?’ another part of his mind answered.
It was true, the experience had been better than he had ever dared to hope it would be. In locker room talk he’d heard some of his classmates admit that their first time had been unmitigated disasters, either from being unable to perform, to one case of the girl’s father walking in on them. The conventional wisdom seemed to be that the first time didn’t really count, that it was for practice really.
‘So why did everything work so well for me?’ he thought morosely. It was as if all of his luck was good that night; neither had been too intoxicated to perform, neither had thrown up or passed out, and there hadn’t been any interruptions. Yes, the setting and circumstances had been perfect. What more could any couple have asked for?
“We’re not a couple,” Keitaro murmured. “It was mistake, why can’t I stop thinking about it?” It was bad enough that he found himself thinking of Tsuruko during the day, but she haunted his dreams at night as well. Sated, and not proud of himself in the least, Keitaro finished cleaning himself with the tissues that he now kept by the side of the bed. Rolling over onto his side, Keitaro closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep.
But tonight, sleep did not come easily after he’d finished. With a sigh, he got up and walked over to the window, looking up at the moon as it passed through the clear, dark sky. He watched Earth’s nearest neighbor for untold minutes, trying vainly to sort out the maelstrom of emotions that he was still enduring, even after all this time. Finally he closed his eyes and lowered his head.
‘I have to stop this, don’t I? I can’t keep acting like this, I need to be a man about this.’ He chuckled bitterly at that thought. Be a man. According to his classmates, he already was. He’d finally gotten laid, and the woman had no interest in a relationship, and probably would never see him again. ‘Yeah, you the man Keitaro,’ he thought with some disgust. A real man would be celebrating, bragging to his friends. ‘But here’s Keitaro, torn-up by his conscience. Why can’t I be like other men? But do I really want to be like that?’ he asked himself.
‘Conscience makes cowards of us all…’
Shakespeare had written that, if Keitaro wasn’t mistaken. His conscience didn’t make him a coward, it just made it difficult to live with himself. In the end, he decided that in a strange way, he felt better about the fact that he still felt bad about what had happened. “Guess that’s what makes me a good man,” he told his darkened room.
There was nothing more he could do except continue to try and live with the daily rebukes from his conscience. With an air of resignation, Keitaro returned to his futon, making a mental note to empty out his trash bin in the morning. Laying down and closing his eyes, he told himself that he’d do more to try and keep his baser emotions on a shorter leash. He’d made that promise before, and usually increasing his scholastic efforts helped in the short term.
But if the trend continued, he’d probably have to devote his entire life to scholastic efforts…
XXX
“Happy valentine’s Day!” announced Kitsune, as she handed Keitaro a garishly wrapped parcel.
“Thanks Kitsune.” Keitaro opened the package and found a package of chocolate, a much nicer gift than the time she’d given him a 10 yen chocolate. ‘Wait for it…’
“Now that that’s out of the way,” Kitsune continued, “Here’s what you can get me for White Day.” She handed Keitaro an exhaustive list.
Keitaro smiled and shook his head. ‘Kitsune doesn’t believe that it’s better to give than to receive, obviously,’ he noted good naturedly. He’d get her something nice, but he’d have to sell the residence to get her everything on her list, and probably have to take out a loan on top of that.
“Hey Keitaro! Happy Valentine’s Day!” cried out Su, as she jumped on his shoulders and jammed some chocolate into his mouth. Fortunately for Keitaro this year the chocolate was filled with peanut butter instead of curry or cayenne pepper. After managing to chew and swallow the mouthful, he gasped out, “Thanks Su. But just hand it to me next time willya?”
Su merely grinned in response.
Keitaro had stopped loathing Valentine’s Day since becoming the manager of Hinata House. Before then, he’d never received any chocolate, and had to secretly give it to himself to avoid embarrassment.
“Urashima”
“Yes Motoko?”
“Here.” She handed him an unwrapped package of chocolate, one that wasn’t quite as nice as the one that Kitsune had given him.
‘Giri-choco,’ Keitaro thought. Chocolate you give because you have to. “Thanks Motoko,” he replied with a smile. At least she hadn’t given him a block of baking chocolate this year…
“S-sempai…”
Keitaro felt a warm smile come over his features. Shinobu’s Valentine’s Day gift was always the highlight of the day. Her gifts were always the nicest, and he always appreciated them. “Yes Shinobu?”
“H-Happy Valentine’s Day! P-please accept my chocolate!” Shinobu stammered, almost forcing the words out as she blushed furiously.
“Thank you Shinobu.” He opened the package and found a lovely handmade chocolate heart. Keitaro beamed at her, causing her heart rate to nearly double. “It looks wonderful.”
“You’re welcome sempai…” Shinobu was now an interesting shade of scarlet, and she seemed to find her hands fascinating.
“My turn. Here you go Keitaro, Happy Valentines Day,” said Naru, as she handed him a box wrapped in gold foil.
The smile Naru was giving him made Keitaro’s heart flip. “Th-thank you Naru,” he breathed. ‘Is she wearing make-up?’ he wondered. ‘She looks really good today. She’s wearing the scarf I got her for Christmas too…’
“You’ve really improved yourself, haven’t you?” Naru asked.
“If, if you say so,” he replied, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
“Yes, Urashima, your behavior is much improved,” added Motoko.
“Thanks.” The unexpected praise made him self-conscious.
“Sempai, would you like some hot chocolate?”
“Yes Shinobu, that sounds nice…” Keitaro followed the blue haired chef into the kitchen, while the others went about their business, save Kitsune, who resumed lounging on the sofa and drinking beer. She had the TV tuned to some soap opera, and was lost in the absurd plot twists when she heard a knocking at the front door.
Looking around, she saw that no one else was making any movement to answer it, so she reluctantly got to her feet, grumbling to herself about landlords who didn’t take care of their responsibilities, and walked to the door. Idly brushing her hair with her hand she opened the door. “Hello, welcome to Hinata House. Can I help you?”
The gentleman caller looked at her closely for a second and asked a question of his own. “This is the Hinata rooming house for girls?”
“That‘s what I said, isn‘t it?” Kitsune answered wryly. ‘He’s kinda cute,’ she thought to herself. “Are you looking for a room for your daughter?”
The man shook his head. “Keitaro Urashima is the owner and landlord here, correct?”
“Yes.” Kitsune was now a little curious about this stranger at their door.
“Could I speak with him please?”
“With Keitaro?”
The man nodded.
“Who’s calling?”
“An acquaintance,” the man replied evenly.
‘Old friend of Keitaro’s?’ Kitsune pondered. ‘Classmate? Boyfriend?’ The last thought made her smirk. “Wait here, I’ll get him.”
The stranger at the door didn’t reply at all.
Kitsune walked into the kitchen and found Keitaro, Shinobu, and Naru all sipping from steaming mugs of hot chocolate. “Hey Keitaro, someone’s here to see you.”
“A delivery?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Giving in to her nasty impulse, Kitsune waited for Keitaro to take a sip before answering. “Probably an old boyfriend,” she replied. She laughed as Keitaro started coughing when some of the hot chocolate tried to pay a visit to his lungs.
“That’s not funny Kitsune,” growled Naru, as Shinobu went dead white.
“Oh yes it was,” gloated Kitsune.
Ignoring the banter, Keitaro got to his feet, picked up his mug and headed for the door, trying to recover his breath. When he got to the door, he found a man a few years older than him, with striking features and longer hair.
“Keitaro Urashima?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Keitaro was wracking his brain trying to figure out who this visitor was. “Forgive me for sounding rude, but I have no idea who you are.”
The man smiled broadly. “We’ve never met, but we have a mutual friend.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Tsuruko Aoyama.”
At the mention of her name, Keitaro felt the blood drain from his face. He could only imagine that his face was a perfect caricature of horror.
“I’m her husband.” Toshio was still smiling, but his eyes had gone as cold as liquid nitrogen.
All other ambient noise vanished, and Keitaro never heard the sound the mug of hot chocolate made when it shattered on the floor, dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
Continued
Once again, thanks to Random1377 for pre-reading this sucker. Sorry man, reading my first drafts must be like passing a kidney stone.
…the size of a basketball
Author’s Notes: All right, all right, because of the incessant, and frequent, demands, I WILL post a revised LEMON edition of the first chapter at mediaminer(dot)org and AdultFanFiction(dot)net.
I’m working on it.
Get offa my back already, willya? That means you too, Random…
C+C is welcome at hawker(underscore)748(at)hotmail(dot)com. Goddamn QuickEdit…
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
Manga continuity, after the “Burn-Up Blade” story line
Love Hina:
Ships in the Night
Chapter Two: Rocks and Shoals
The walk back to Hinata House was interminable to Keitaro, but at the same time it felt as if it passed in a flash. He hadn’t come directly home; he’d stopped in yet another coffee shop, gone to the washroom, secured himself in one of the stalls, and thoroughly examined his clothing.
Keitaro had been having nightmarish thoughts of entering the residence and having Naru walk up to him and pluck a long black hair off of his shoulder. Even if she didn’t know whose hair it was, her reaction wouldn’t be pleasant. ‘If she even suspected whose it was, or even worse, Motoko…’ he couldn’t finish the thought and keep the nerve to return home.
Continuing to examine his clothes with a thoroughness that would have impressed a trained crime scene investigator, Keitaro found that more and more details of the previous night were coming back to him, like specters emerging from the fog. He had a particularly clear image of looking over Tsuruko’s shoulder and seeing their writhing reflection in the mirror over the bed. Shaking his head to clear that thought, he struggled to stay focused on what he was doing.
He plucked a stray hair off of the back of one of his pant legs. ‘Blonde? Don’t they ever vacuum those rooms? Maybe it’s alright,’ he mused. ‘Who knows whose hair is in those rooms. Still…’ There was no reason to give Naru and Motoko any more ammunition than necessary. ‘Explaining where I was is going to be bad enough…’
Satisfied that he was as presentable as possible, and with no apparent evidence of his transgression, he’d resumed his journey home, briefly detouring to buy a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, gagging terribly, and blew the smoke over himself, trying to disguise any possible olfactory evidence. Discarding the finished cigarette, along with the rest of the pack, he continued walking until he found himself staring up the stairs to Hinata House.
Taking a deep breath to marshal his courage, and finishing the soda he’d bought to chase away the cigarette breath, he slowly began his ascent, using all of his willpower to put up an innocent, but haggard, front. With one last calming breath, he opened the front door and announced his return. “I’m home!”
“Sempai!” cried Shinobu. “Where were you? I was so worried!” She ran up to him and gave him a grateful hug, before she realized what she was doing and stepped back, blushing furiously.
Summoned by his call, the other residents quickly made their way into the living room. “Where were you Keitaro?” Naru asked, keeping her voice strangely neutral, and watching him closely.
“Lemme guess, you met some hot babe and spent the night in a love hotel, right?” teased Kitsune.
Keitaro had been expecting and preparing for Kitsune making just such a comment, and so he was able to prevent himself from going ashen. “No, no, no, nothing like that.” He was still a little disturbed by the mock accusation. Fortunately, the residents put down his demeanor as embarrassment, not guilt.
Motoko took a step towards him and regarded him closely. Keitaro did his best to not fidget under her scrutiny. She then wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You smell like one of Haruka’s ashtrays, Urashima.”
“What happened last night?” Naru asked, her face betraying no emotion.
“I went for a walk.”
“I know,” Naru growled. “Where were you?”
“I was walking around, got soaked, and went into some smokey bar to warm up.” While walking home, Keitaro had decided that his best option was to stick to the truth as much as possible. With minor omissions. “I stayed too long, drank too much, and could hardly stand. I staggered to a hotel, checked in, and passed out.”
“Why didn’t you call a cab?” asked Shinobu.
“Too expensive.”
A grin came over Kitsune’s face. “You should have told me what you were planning. Next time, mention my name.”
“Why?”
“Most bars around here have a cot set up for me for when I’ve had too much,” she informed him cheerfully.
Keitaro paused to consider that, and realized that Kitsune probably wasn’t kidding. “I see… Well, I‘m home now…” He moved away, planning on heading for his room, when Naru stopped him cold with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hold it. Where are you going now?”
“I stink like cigarettes, Naru.” Keitaro replied. “I need some clean clothes and a bath.”
“Didn’t you wash up this morning?” inquired Motoko.
Keitaro smiled weakly. “You know what goes on in those hotels. I feel… dirty.”
Naru yanked back her hand with a disgusted look. She briefly considered pounding Keitaro, but she’d have to touch him again to do it. She stared at her hand, a sick look on her face. “Shinobu, where’s the bleach?”
Taking this as his cue to leave, Keitaro started up the stairs, only to stop short when Naru called out to him. “Hey Keitaro?”
He looked back over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Call next time, alright? Shinobu was worried, you know?”
The ghost of a smile she gave him sent a pang of guilt through Keitaro. “I understand.” He couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.
XXX
Safely inside his private bath, Keitaro allowed himself to drop his guard. ‘I, I did it…’ His success gave him little satisfaction, for which he was somewhat reassured. ‘I don’t want to have to do that again…’ He knew he had to though. He had to conceal this for the rest of his life. If he didn’t, the ‘rest of his life’ would only be as long as he kept it a secret.
With this thought at the back of his mind, he disrobed, and gave himself a through examination. He looked at this back in the mirror. The scratches were still there, ten parallel red streaks running vertically up and down his shoulder blades. ‘I hope those heal without scarring.’ Fortunately, there were no other scratches, but looking down at himself, Keitaro noticed something else he’d overlooked up to now. ‘Is-is that a bite mark?’
At the very top of his left leg, there was, in fact, a bite mark. Keitaro was almost certain that he hadn’t put it there himself. In a flash, he remembered. Tsuruko had been kissing him around that area, when she’d playfully bitten him. She’d chuckled softly when he’d squawked, before she’d smiled wickedly at him, moved her head to the left and…
When he felt himself beginning to stir, Keitaro slammed his fist into the wall, wincing in pain, but at the same time welcoming the overwhelming sensation, using it to clear the vivid recollection from his mind. ‘Quit thinking about that! This isn’t something for pleasant recollection!’ Cradling his now throbbing hand, Keitaro went to the little shower and turned the cold water on full blast. Sharply drawing in a breath as the frigid water washed over him, reminding him of his walk the night before, he used the shockingly cold water to drive away the heated memories.
Satisfied that his X-rated trip down memory lane had been cancelled, or at least postponed, Keitaro eased himself into the tub. The hot water worked to relax his tense muscles, but it did nothing to ease his troubled thoughts. ‘How did this happen? How did I let this happen?’ He believed he knew the answer, but he was having difficulty reconciling himself with the fact.
‘I wanted it, didn’t I?’ he wondered. ‘If I really wanted to stop it, I could have done more, couldn’t I? And why did I leave last night? I’ve taken worse beatings than that. God… If only I’d stayed home…’ Keitaro slumped down in the tub, the water just under his nose. ‘The one time I decide to go away to clear my head, this happens… Who did I piss off in a previous life?’
In addition to his indiscretion, Keitaro was troubled by the fact that the experience had been so enjoyable. Under different circumstances, and with a different girl, (a certain bespectacled brunette resident came to mind) he might have felt victorious this morning. He’d finally gotten laid! He wasn’t a virgin anymore. Maybe the alcohol had helped, but it hadn’t been the clumsy, fumbling with each other, amateur experience that some of his classmates had admitted to, it had been an experience to write home about. Well, maybe not home, but certainly to some of the magazines he had discretely hidden away in his room…
Despite the guilt he was feeling, Keitaro felt a bittersweet smile come over his features as he mentally replayed part of the night. ‘She was so beautiful, so patient with me, so… playful. Is she always like that?’ he found himself wondering. ‘When we…did it…she was so gentle, even when I-’
Keitaro lurched up in the tub suddenly, sending water cascading over the edge. “Oh shit!”
“Are you okay Keitaro?” came Naru’s voice from just outside the door.
Keitaro paled. ‘Are they listening outside?’ “I-I’m alright Naru, I, I just stubbed my toe, that’s all…” He silently prayed that Naru wouldn’t come in to check on him. It was unlikely, but before last night, he wouldn’t have bet on a one night stand with Tsuruko either.
“Your toe? Jeez Keitaro, you sounded like you’d found a body in there. Grow up a little.” Keitaro heard steps retreating away from the door, and Naru muttering, “Idiot…”
One crisis dealt with, Keitaro went back to the more pressing issue. ‘We didn’t use protection!’ he recalled in a panic. ‘I, I could, she could…’ He couldn’t even get his thoughts in order. Even thought the water in the tub was hot, Keitaro found himself start to tremble. ‘A dad, I, I could be a dad…’ His head swam as he contemplated the possible outcomes of his mistake. A few minutes earlier, he’d been feeling some relief that the worst was over. Now he was realizing the full scope and possible consequences of his error.
Keitaro tried to calm himself down. ‘Take it easy, this isn’t a soap opera, she doesn’t have to get pregnant after one night… I probably have a single digit sperm count anyway…’ A few minutes more of self-depreciation, and Keitaro was feeling a little more at ease. But he couldn’t push the thought that Tsuruko could possibly be carrying his child completely out of his mind. ‘I’ll know in a couple of weeks, I guess…’
Having somewhat reassured himself, Keitaro allowed himself to sink back down into the tub, feeling the liquid warmth washing over him. He closed his eyes and tried to let himself drift away from all of his troubles for awhile. But he couldn’t stop himself from having images of a heart-broken and tearful Naru from entering his mind, or stem the tide of memories of the night with Tsuruko.
When his frenetic mind finally allowed him to doze off, his last waking thought was of Tsuruko. If one of the residents had entered the bathroom to wake him, they would have wondered about the enigmatic smile he was wearing as he slept.
XXX
Over the next couple of days, things slowly got back to normal at Hinata House. More than one resident noted that Keitaro seemed especially twitchy; they’d had to pry him off the ceiling after they told him that there was a call for him. He seemed to collapse with relief when it was only a telemarketer. He appeared to calm down after a week, and got back to his usual behavior
There were fewer incidents of Keitaro doing something stupid and getting clobbered for it, and this was due to Keitaro, Naru, and Motoko working together towards a common goal, although none of them knew about the other. Keitaro was taking great pains to not do anything really dumb, like entering a room without warning, and being very careful where he placed his hands at all times. ‘After all, if I don’t do something stupid, they won’t get mad, right?’ he told himself.
Acting independently, Naru and Motoko had both decided to cut Keitaro a little slack and give him a chance to explain himself before they reacted. Their decision to act more reasonably, combined with Keitaro’s efforts to deal with his clumsiness, caused a noticeable decline in the amount of collateral damage inflicted on Hinata House. Keitaro was spending a lot less time repairing the walls and roof, and Naru and Motoko weren’t so angry all the time.
November gave way to December; rain gave way to snow, and soon Hinata house was covered by a beautiful white blanket. Spirits were high, due to both the season and the measurable drop in tension in the residence. Keitaro and Naru were getting along better, the former working hard to avoid doing stupid things, and the latter struggling to not lash out prematurely. Even Motoko would admit that Keitaro’s behavior had improved in her eyes. There were still mix-ups that resulted in Keitaro getting pounded, but they were far less frequent. Outwardly, Keitaro appeared to be calm and focused, mindful of his actions, and clear of conscience.
Inwardly, it was a whole different story…
Anytime the residents, especially Naru, smiled at him, or complimented him, Keitaro felt a sharp pang of guilt. He hadn’t forgotten his transgression with Tsuruko, and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive himself. It didn’t matter to him that no one else knew; he knew. He had to look in the mirror every morning, and he didn’t like the face he saw there. He had lied to people who trusted him, and he had to continue to do so.
Ironically, the accusations of being a pervert had almost completely stopped, but only after he’d done something to earn that title. If he’d been in a different mindset, that might have struck him as amusing. If he wanted to salve his conscience, he would have to talk about it, but there was no one he could talk to. Talking to any of the residents would have been tantamount to suicide. He didn’t think that Seta could keep this confidential, and Haruka… Keitaro wasn’t sure how she would react, and if he guessed wrong…
What really tormented Keitaro however, was the mixed feelings he was having about his one night stand. If he was only feeling shame, regret, guilt and remorse, than he would have felt better about himself. He would have felt like an otherwise decent guy who made one horrible mistake.
But when he inevitably thought of Tsuruko, the feelings that welled up inside him weren’t entirely negative…
As awful as he felt about what had happened, if he been given an opportunity to live that night over, he couldn’t say with absolute conviction that he would change how things had played out.
Keitaro’s mind was awash with a confusing array of emotions. He had no experience with what he was feeling at the moment. ‘I’ve never had an affair before,’ he thought miserably. ‘I’ve never even had SEX before. What am I supposed to feel? What am I supposed to do?’
Through it all, he kept up his façade of normalcy, never daring to give even a glimpse of the emotional turmoil he was enduring. He continued to be ‘an improved Keitaro’ as Naru had thought of him, bearing his cross in silent torment.
Christmas came, and with it the exchanging of presents. Both his budget and his gift giving skills had improved with time, and his gifts to the residents were more heartfelt and appreciated. Naru in particular loved the beautiful silk scarf that he gave her. When asked where he’d found it, he’d chuckled nervously and said it was just some shop downtown.
He wasn’t about to tell her that it had been a lingerie shop, or that he found himself wondering what Naru would look like in some of the items in the store. And he would absolutely never reveal, even upon pain of death, what had happened during his fantasy. As he imagined Naru in a rather slinky black demi-cup bra and thong panties, the image in his mind changed; the hair grew darker, the skin lighter, the height taller, and the bust larger, until the picture in his mind’s eye had morphed from Naru to Tsuruko.
Shaken, and more aroused than he cared to admit, Keitaro had shaken his head to clear the sudden intrusion, grabbed the first thing that wasn’t overtly sexual, paid, and bolted from the store as if his tail feathers were on fire. Outside the store, he’d opened his jacket, letting the frigid air wash over him, shocking his mind into clarity. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a fantasy starring Tsuruko, but it was the first time where she’d replaced Naru. He’d walked back to Hinata House slowly, wondering if his mind would ever let him live it down.
While visiting the shrine on New Year’s Day, he offered silent wishes that he could learn to forgive himself for his mistake, and that his thoughts would cease taunting him. When he drew a fortune, he didn’t get ‘worst luck‘, and he was actually thrilled to get a ‘little luck’ fortune. The residents thought it was strange to see Keitaro celebrating such a small bit of fortune, but they put it down to his natural optimism. After all, how many people would have kept trying for Tokyo University after failing three times?
XXX
“Flammable and inflammable mean the same thing… to-may-to, to-mah-to, po-tay-to, po-tah-to…” grumbled Naru.
Keitaro felt a strange compulsion to break into song…
“‘Goose’ plural is ‘geese’, but ‘moose’ plural isn’t ‘meese…’ ‘mouse’ plural is ‘mice’, but ‘house’ plural isn’t ‘hice…’ Arrgh! I hate English!” snarled Naru, throwing her notes up in frustration.
“What, what’s wrong Naru?” a startled Keitaro asked.
“Stupid English!” she seethed. “I know it’s important, knowledge of commerce and all that, but it drove me nuts on the entrance exam, and it still drives me crazy!”
Keitaro smiled weakly. “It is difficult, isn’t it?”
Naru let out a deep breath. “More frustrating than anything else. My brain hurts…”
“We could take a break…” Keitaro offered.
“No, no, gotta keep sharp Keitaro. Midterms are only three months away.”
“But it’s such a nice day…”
“Cold as hell though. It IS the middle of January, remember?” Naru groused.
Keitaro shrugged, and went back to his studies. After less than a minute he asked Naru, “Would you rather it was another language?”
“Like what?”
Keitaro pointed to Tama-chan happily flying around the room. “How about turtlese?”
Naru smiled in spite of her frustration. “Only Mutsumi would do well then. Would you like us to learn your language Tama-chan?”
“Myuh!”
“I can’t tell if that was yes, no, or I’m hungry…”
“Myuh! Myuh!”
“Relax Tama-chan, I’m just teasing,” Naru reassured the airworthy hot-springs turtle. Having burned through some of her aggravation, she went back to her school work, wrapping her housecoat tighter around herself and sliding more of herself under the kosatsu.
A knock came from the door. “Sempai?”
“What is it Shinobu?”
“Would you and Naru like some tea?”
Naru nodded as Keitaro replied, “Sure, come in.”
Shinobu entered bearing a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of cookies. “I, I brought a snack as well…”
“Thank you Shinobu,” Keitaro beamed.
Shinobu blushed in response and found herself studying her fingertips. “You-you’re welcome Sempai.” She turned to leave, but when she reached the door she added, “It-it’s nice to see you and Naru getting along so well…”
“Huh? What do you mean Shinobu?” asked a surprised Naru.
Really uncomfortable at being put on the spot, Shinobu replied, “You haven’t been hitting him as much, Naru-sempai. Excuse me, I need to go…” Without so much as another word, Shinobu closed the door, and the sounds of her rapidly retreating footfalls could be heard.
Naru’s eyes lost their focus as she appeared to be considering something. She then refocused her gaze on Keitaro, who fidgeted under her scrutiny. “What?” he asked nervously.
“She’s right.”
“If, if you say so…” Keitaro guardedly replied.
Naru slowly smiled. “I guess you can be a good guy if you want.”
Keitaro’s reaction wasn’t what Naru expected. Instead of puffing up with pride, he actually slumped, and Naru was sure she saw him wince. “Thanks…”
‘What’s up with him?’ Naru wondered, a little curious about his reaction. She wasn’t concerned enough to ask him about it though, so she resumed studying her hated English and sipping tea.
‘Even now, I can’t forget…’ Keitaro mused silently. ‘Even praise reminds me…’ He had been trying to behave himself, but mainly due to his guilt, and his attempts to keep it a secret. Under different circumstances the smile Naru had given him would have warmed his heart, but he found himself comparing it to the smile of another.
Keitaro viciously shook his head to clear it. ‘Keep focused on your studies…’ Immersing himself in his school work did help him keep memories and feelings at bay, he’d discovered. Besides, he always enjoyed studying with Naru. He threw himself into his studies, American History at the moment, and used the history of the race to the moon to clear his mind. He had worked his way from Alan Sheppard’s suborbital flight up to Wally Schirra, Don Eisle, and Walt Cunningham in Apollo 7, when Naru interrupted his concentration.
Naru stretched, yawned, and announced, “I need a nap.” She then slid three-quarters of the way under the kosatsu and told Keitaro to wake her in an hour or so. “Oh yeah, don’t even THINK about trying to kiss me when I’m asleep,” she warned.
Keitaro stammered that he understood and watched as Naru took off her glasses, lay down, and fell asleep within moments. Try to kiss her? He wasn’t stupid enough to try that again. Although he wouldn’t have minded it…
Sighing, he resumed his review of the U.S. space program, but he found that his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He closed his books and took a long look at the dozing Naru. ‘She’s beautiful when she’s sleeping. Just like an angel…’ Unwittingly, his thoughts started traveling on an unwelcome, but by now familiar path. ‘I wonder if Naru’s kisses would be as nice as Tsuruko’s…’ He and Naru had kissed a few times, but nothing like what had happened-
“Damn it!” Keitaro hissed, feeling a sudden urge to slap himself. He was doing it again, comparing Naru and Tsuruko. He also realized that he was feeling the initial stirrings of sexual arousal. ‘I need to get out of here. Now.’ He got to his feet and walked out, not trusting himself to even glance back at Naru.
He closed the door behind him and walked down the hall, down the stairs and headed for the first floor. In the living room he almost literally ran into Shinobu. “Sempai! What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
Keitaro smiled at the resident chef. “No Shinobu, nothing’s wrong,” he reassured her. “I just got tired of sitting around, I need to go for a walk, that’s all.”
“But, what about Naru?”
“She’s sleeping. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in an hour or so…”
Shinobu smile in appreciation. “Dress warm Sempai,” she advised him. “It’s cold outside.”
“I know, thanks.” He grabbed his thickest jacket, put his shoes on and walked out. The cold air hit him like a slap, chilling all his exposed skin, and flowing into his mouth and nose, making him hiss. His breath became fog in the frigid temperature, and it took Keitaro a moment to get accustomed to it. Zipping his jacket all the way up and putting his hands into his pockets, he went down the steps and began his walk.
The cold air helped clear Keitaro’s mind, and it cooled off his feverish thoughts. The walk also helped burn off some of his nervous energy, and he felt himself start to calm down and regain his focus. ‘That’s better… Just like a cold shower…’ He’d needed a few of those over the past couple months, when his mind would spontaneously start remembering that night, and his body acted accordingly. It could happen without warning, anytime, anywhere. Even nearly three months later, the memories were still fresh in his mind.
Keitaro’s thoughts were under control now, but he found himself wondering about Tsuruko. ‘Did she work things out with her husband? Did they talk? Did she tell him what happened? Probably not, I’m still alive…’ His thoughts of Tsuruko were either intense recollections of their night together, or ruminations of what she might be going through. ‘Do you ever think of me? Remember that night fondly? With regret? Both? Or did you put it out of your mind?’
Keitaro was puzzled by his curiosity. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help but want to know if she was having the same reactions he was months later. Once, he had even briefly entertained the thought of dropping by to check on her, before dismissing it as foolish, as well as possibly fatal. ‘It’s bad enough now, don’t be making it worse,’ he reprimanded himself.
The landlord of Hinata House came upon a bench and decided to sit down for awhile. He sat down, letting out a small yelp when the cold metal made its presence known, even through his clothes. He put his head back and stared at the clear blue sky, letting his thoughts wander. Images of the two women who had had the greatest impact on his life danced through his head. One beautiful and studious, whose fierce temper belied an especially soft, tender side, the other graceful and gorgeous; seemingly invulnerable, but concealing some personal pain.
“What do I do?” he asked the heavens. If the heavens had an answer for him, they kept it to themselves. After ten minutes or so of silent contemplation, Keitaro resigned himself to not having any solutions fall into his lap, so he got up and headed for home. ‘Naru wanted me to wake her up anyway. I guess there’s nothing I can do but just deal with it. Try to move on, I suppose. Now if I can just keep myself focused on my studies…’
XXX
“Kei-Keitaro!” the breathy voice softly gasped.
“Tsuruko…”
“Gah!” With a start, Keitaro’s eyes snapped open, the combination of dream and memory still sharp in his mind. He was soaked with sweat, he was breathing hard, and his boxers were struggling to contain his erection.
“Not again…” he murmured quietly. “Why won’t it stop?”
In addition to having to deal with memories during the day, Keitaro’d had his sleep interrupted many times by either nightmares or more pleasant dreams. The nightmares always involved the truth being discovered, and featured either Naru throwing an especially powerful punch at him when he was pinned against a brick wall, or Motoko’s blade traveling towards his throat. He always woke up before either connected, and one night his terrified scream had roused the other residents.
When asked what spooked him, he’d had to lie, yet again, and say that he couldn’t remember. Shinobu then made him some hot chocolate, which he’d guiltily accepted, while the other residents returned to bed, grumbling at the loss of sleep.
Tonight’s dream had been the other type.
Keitaro’d had erotic dreams before. They’d increased in frequency since he’d taken over as manager of Hinata House. Living here was like living in a hentai version of Disneyland; he’d seen more naked flesh, albeit accidentally, than he ever imagined possible. He’d even gotten rid of most his dirty magazines, as they were embarrassing to have, and he usually ended up seeing the real thing anyway.
But since that rainy night in November, they had happened far more frequently, and they were more…vivid…and went into much greater detail. Keitaro figured it was because before that night, it was only fantasy, speculation. Since then, it was mostly memory. Naru had been all but supplanted in his nocturnal fantasies, Tsuruko now reigned supreme. Many, many mornings Keitaro discovered that he’d have to discretely dispose of his underwear. He’d even started doing all of his own laundry. He’d told Shinobu that he was doing it to give her a break, but he was actually terrified of what the others would think if they somehow got a look at his laundry.
Keitaro looked at the clock. 3:12 AM. His state of arousal was so high, and he’d been so close to climaxing, that there was only one thing he could do, no matter how ashamed it made him feel. He bit his lip and started stroking himself, pleasure, shame and guilt warring in him for dominance. Eventually pleasure won out, but it was quickly replaced by guilt and shame.
Once again, he hadn’t thought of Naru, Kitsune, or even Motoko. He’d remembered the night with Tsuruko as he’d obtained some relief.
‘Why can’t I get over this?’ he asked himself.
‘Perhaps because it was so good?’ another part of his mind answered.
It was true, the experience had been better than he had ever dared to hope it would be. In locker room talk he’d heard some of his classmates admit that their first time had been unmitigated disasters, either from being unable to perform, to one case of the girl’s father walking in on them. The conventional wisdom seemed to be that the first time didn’t really count, that it was for practice really.
‘So why did everything work so well for me?’ he thought morosely. It was as if all of his luck was good that night; neither had been too intoxicated to perform, neither had thrown up or passed out, and there hadn’t been any interruptions. Yes, the setting and circumstances had been perfect. What more could any couple have asked for?
“We’re not a couple,” Keitaro murmured. “It was mistake, why can’t I stop thinking about it?” It was bad enough that he found himself thinking of Tsuruko during the day, but she haunted his dreams at night as well. Sated, and not proud of himself in the least, Keitaro finished cleaning himself with the tissues that he now kept by the side of the bed. Rolling over onto his side, Keitaro closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep.
But tonight, sleep did not come easily after he’d finished. With a sigh, he got up and walked over to the window, looking up at the moon as it passed through the clear, dark sky. He watched Earth’s nearest neighbor for untold minutes, trying vainly to sort out the maelstrom of emotions that he was still enduring, even after all this time. Finally he closed his eyes and lowered his head.
‘I have to stop this, don’t I? I can’t keep acting like this, I need to be a man about this.’ He chuckled bitterly at that thought. Be a man. According to his classmates, he already was. He’d finally gotten laid, and the woman had no interest in a relationship, and probably would never see him again. ‘Yeah, you the man Keitaro,’ he thought with some disgust. A real man would be celebrating, bragging to his friends. ‘But here’s Keitaro, torn-up by his conscience. Why can’t I be like other men? But do I really want to be like that?’ he asked himself.
‘Conscience makes cowards of us all…’
Shakespeare had written that, if Keitaro wasn’t mistaken. His conscience didn’t make him a coward, it just made it difficult to live with himself. In the end, he decided that in a strange way, he felt better about the fact that he still felt bad about what had happened. “Guess that’s what makes me a good man,” he told his darkened room.
There was nothing more he could do except continue to try and live with the daily rebukes from his conscience. With an air of resignation, Keitaro returned to his futon, making a mental note to empty out his trash bin in the morning. Laying down and closing his eyes, he told himself that he’d do more to try and keep his baser emotions on a shorter leash. He’d made that promise before, and usually increasing his scholastic efforts helped in the short term.
But if the trend continued, he’d probably have to devote his entire life to scholastic efforts…
XXX
“Happy valentine’s Day!” announced Kitsune, as she handed Keitaro a garishly wrapped parcel.
“Thanks Kitsune.” Keitaro opened the package and found a package of chocolate, a much nicer gift than the time she’d given him a 10 yen chocolate. ‘Wait for it…’
“Now that that’s out of the way,” Kitsune continued, “Here’s what you can get me for White Day.” She handed Keitaro an exhaustive list.
Keitaro smiled and shook his head. ‘Kitsune doesn’t believe that it’s better to give than to receive, obviously,’ he noted good naturedly. He’d get her something nice, but he’d have to sell the residence to get her everything on her list, and probably have to take out a loan on top of that.
“Hey Keitaro! Happy Valentine’s Day!” cried out Su, as she jumped on his shoulders and jammed some chocolate into his mouth. Fortunately for Keitaro this year the chocolate was filled with peanut butter instead of curry or cayenne pepper. After managing to chew and swallow the mouthful, he gasped out, “Thanks Su. But just hand it to me next time willya?”
Su merely grinned in response.
Keitaro had stopped loathing Valentine’s Day since becoming the manager of Hinata House. Before then, he’d never received any chocolate, and had to secretly give it to himself to avoid embarrassment.
“Urashima”
“Yes Motoko?”
“Here.” She handed him an unwrapped package of chocolate, one that wasn’t quite as nice as the one that Kitsune had given him.
‘Giri-choco,’ Keitaro thought. Chocolate you give because you have to. “Thanks Motoko,” he replied with a smile. At least she hadn’t given him a block of baking chocolate this year…
“S-sempai…”
Keitaro felt a warm smile come over his features. Shinobu’s Valentine’s Day gift was always the highlight of the day. Her gifts were always the nicest, and he always appreciated them. “Yes Shinobu?”
“H-Happy Valentine’s Day! P-please accept my chocolate!” Shinobu stammered, almost forcing the words out as she blushed furiously.
“Thank you Shinobu.” He opened the package and found a lovely handmade chocolate heart. Keitaro beamed at her, causing her heart rate to nearly double. “It looks wonderful.”
“You’re welcome sempai…” Shinobu was now an interesting shade of scarlet, and she seemed to find her hands fascinating.
“My turn. Here you go Keitaro, Happy Valentines Day,” said Naru, as she handed him a box wrapped in gold foil.
The smile Naru was giving him made Keitaro’s heart flip. “Th-thank you Naru,” he breathed. ‘Is she wearing make-up?’ he wondered. ‘She looks really good today. She’s wearing the scarf I got her for Christmas too…’
“You’ve really improved yourself, haven’t you?” Naru asked.
“If, if you say so,” he replied, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
“Yes, Urashima, your behavior is much improved,” added Motoko.
“Thanks.” The unexpected praise made him self-conscious.
“Sempai, would you like some hot chocolate?”
“Yes Shinobu, that sounds nice…” Keitaro followed the blue haired chef into the kitchen, while the others went about their business, save Kitsune, who resumed lounging on the sofa and drinking beer. She had the TV tuned to some soap opera, and was lost in the absurd plot twists when she heard a knocking at the front door.
Looking around, she saw that no one else was making any movement to answer it, so she reluctantly got to her feet, grumbling to herself about landlords who didn’t take care of their responsibilities, and walked to the door. Idly brushing her hair with her hand she opened the door. “Hello, welcome to Hinata House. Can I help you?”
The gentleman caller looked at her closely for a second and asked a question of his own. “This is the Hinata rooming house for girls?”
“That‘s what I said, isn‘t it?” Kitsune answered wryly. ‘He’s kinda cute,’ she thought to herself. “Are you looking for a room for your daughter?”
The man shook his head. “Keitaro Urashima is the owner and landlord here, correct?”
“Yes.” Kitsune was now a little curious about this stranger at their door.
“Could I speak with him please?”
“With Keitaro?”
The man nodded.
“Who’s calling?”
“An acquaintance,” the man replied evenly.
‘Old friend of Keitaro’s?’ Kitsune pondered. ‘Classmate? Boyfriend?’ The last thought made her smirk. “Wait here, I’ll get him.”
The stranger at the door didn’t reply at all.
Kitsune walked into the kitchen and found Keitaro, Shinobu, and Naru all sipping from steaming mugs of hot chocolate. “Hey Keitaro, someone’s here to see you.”
“A delivery?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Giving in to her nasty impulse, Kitsune waited for Keitaro to take a sip before answering. “Probably an old boyfriend,” she replied. She laughed as Keitaro started coughing when some of the hot chocolate tried to pay a visit to his lungs.
“That’s not funny Kitsune,” growled Naru, as Shinobu went dead white.
“Oh yes it was,” gloated Kitsune.
Ignoring the banter, Keitaro got to his feet, picked up his mug and headed for the door, trying to recover his breath. When he got to the door, he found a man a few years older than him, with striking features and longer hair.
“Keitaro Urashima?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Keitaro was wracking his brain trying to figure out who this visitor was. “Forgive me for sounding rude, but I have no idea who you are.”
The man smiled broadly. “We’ve never met, but we have a mutual friend.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Tsuruko Aoyama.”
At the mention of her name, Keitaro felt the blood drain from his face. He could only imagine that his face was a perfect caricature of horror.
“I’m her husband.” Toshio was still smiling, but his eyes had gone as cold as liquid nitrogen.
All other ambient noise vanished, and Keitaro never heard the sound the mug of hot chocolate made when it shattered on the floor, dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
Continued
Once again, thanks to Random1377 for pre-reading this sucker. Sorry man, reading my first drafts must be like passing a kidney stone.
…the size of a basketball
Author’s Notes: All right, all right, because of the incessant, and frequent, demands, I WILL post a revised LEMON edition of the first chapter at mediaminer(dot)org and AdultFanFiction(dot)net.
I’m working on it.
Get offa my back already, willya? That means you too, Random…