Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Ships in the Night ❯ Shots Across the Bow ( Chapter 3 )
[ 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: 01.24.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.6K | Visits: 2.8K | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Love Hina Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.24.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.6K | Visits: 2.8K | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
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
Manga continuity, after the “Burn-Up Blade” story line
Love Hina:
Ships in the Night
Chapter Three: Shots Across the Bow
“Sempai! SEMPAI! Are you alright?”
“W-what? Shinobu?”
“Are you hurt?”
“What do you mean?”
“You dropped the hot chocolate. Are you cut?”
Keitaro looked down and realized that he was standing in a puddle of hot chocolate. ‘How’d that happen?’ he wondered. ‘I was talking with Toshio and-’ Keitaro’s thought process seized when he remembered exactly who Toshio was. “I-I’m okay Shinobu, I’m just clumsy.” He looked up and saw Toshio still standing there, smiling warmly, unless you looked at his eyes.
Forcing down the impulse to run for his life, Keitaro turned to Tsuruko’s husband and managed to squeak out, “Toshio, do you mind waiting outside? We-we can talk in a few minutes. I, I need to clean this up…”
To Keitaro’s surprise, Toshio agreed. “No problem, take all the time that you need.” Nodding politely to Shinobu, he turned around and walked back towards the steps.
Shinobu watched the stranger leave. “Um, sempai, who was that?” She was concerned that Keitaro had gone ghostly pale, and she swore she could hear his heart beating.
“Friend of a friend,” he murmured. “I need to clean this up and go talk with him.”
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine Shinobu,” Keitaro reassured her. “Mug just slipped, that’s all. I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.”
“Okay sempai…” Shinobu was still a little concerned, but she wasn’t sure she could do anything. She returned to the kitchen and left Keitaro to his task.
‘Shit, shit, shit…’ This thought was on an endless loop in Keitaro’s head, as he cleaned up the hot chocolate and shards of the mug on autopilot. He contemplated the odds of living to see another sunset; they frightened him, but there was nothing he could do.
Clean up complete, Keitaro grabbed a jacket, pulled on some shoes and walked out the door. There was always the hope that he’d taken so long to clean up that Toshio had given up and gone home. No such luck. Toshio was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
“Wasn’t sure if you were going to make a run for it,” Toshio remarked.
“Would it have made a difference?” Keitaro asked weakly.
Toshio shook his head. “No.”
“Didn’t think so…”
“Walk with me Keitaro.” Without waiting for a response, Toshio turned and walked down the steps.
Afraid of disobeying him, Keitaro fell into step beside Toshio. ‘Is he worried about embarrassing me?’ Keitaro pondered. ‘Or were there just too many witnesses for him to kill me back there?’ Not liking this current train of thought, Keitaro tried to figure out how to explain his actions, but he realized that all his rationalizations felt hollow even to him.
The two men walked in silence, Toshio obviously not interested in casual conversation, and Keitaro too scared to say anything. ‘Besides, maybe he doesn’t know I slept with his wife. Yeah, right…’ Keitaro had seen the look in Toshio’s eyes. He knew. And he knew that Keitaro knew that he knew. ‘He’s probably just trying to frighten me a little before he kills me. And he’s succeeding…’
Keitaro barely noticed any of the details of the walk, he was so wrapped up in his own fears. He did notice that they seemed to be staying in the downtown area, which he found a little reassuring. ‘Still plenty of witnesses… Unless he’s too pissed off to care…’ Considering what Keitaro had done, he couldn’t rule this out.
Finally, Toshio stopped in front of a coffee shop. “Come inside,” he ordered.
‘Another goddamn coffee shop,’ fumed Keitaro. All this had started in a coffee shop, and if he never entered one again, it would be too soon. He let out a sigh. ‘Least it’s not a dark alley,’ he reassured himself.
They sat down at a booth, and Toshio ordered tea for the both of them. The drink didn’t really matter to Keitaro, but he was relieved that Toshio hadn’t ordered coffee. The server brought them their tea, and the two men faced each other over the table, Toshio calmly sipping his tea, while Keitaro’s mug shook whenever he held it.
The silence seemed to go on forever to Keitaro, and the absurdity of the situation struck home. Here he was, sitting peacefully in a coffee shop, civilly drinking tea with the husband of the woman he’d slept with almost four months earlier.
Toshio didn’t seem to be carrying a sword, although if Motoko could pull one out of thin air, maybe her brother in law could as well. He hadn’t raised his voice, thrown a punch or a kick, pulled a gun, or shoved him in front of a bus, all things that he would have expected. He hadn’t looked forward to any of these, but they wouldn’t have surprised him.
By all outward appearances, this was two friends going out for a drink together, and waiting for the other shoe to drop was driving Keitaro insane. ‘Dammit, say something will you? I’m going to have a heart attack!’
Toshio then looked at him sharply, and for a second Keitaro wondered if he’d accidentally said that out loud. ‘Or maybe he can read minds…’
“I have one question,” began Toshio. He then chuckled softly, and this time the humor did reach his eyes. “Well, more than one,” he clarified, “but this is the most important one. Whose fault was it?”
“Mine,” Keitaro answered instantly.
Toshio raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“If I hadn’t met up with her, this wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have drank, I should’ve taken her home…” Keitaro let out all the feelings he’d bottled up for months. It was almost a relief to be able to talk about it, even though he was confessing to the last person on the planet he would have expected. “If I’d been thinking more clearly, if I’d been stronger it wouldn’t have happened.”
Toshio didn’t react at all to Keitaro’s allocution, he simply remained calm, and continued to sip at his tea. After a moment, he set down his drink and broke his silence. “Interesting…”
Keitaro blinked, clearly confused by Toshio’s apparent lack of reaction. “I-I beg your pardon?” he asked weakly.
“I asked Tsuruko the same question,” Toshio continued, ignoring Keitaro’s query. “Do you know what she said?” When Keitaro shook his head in response, Toshio continued. “She blamed herself, said that she didn’t give you any choice in the matter. She said she took advantage of your kind nature, that she started it, and that it was all her fault.”
“No! It wasn’t her fault! If I had simply taken her home-” Keitaro shut up when Toshio raised his hand.
“I’m talking now,” Toshio interrupted, a hint of warning in his eyes. “I would have expected the two of you to blame the other, but you both blame yourselves. I find that strange…” After a few minutes of agonizing silence, Toshio looked Keitaro straight in the eye. “I imagine you have some questions of your own, right?”
Keitaro was just able to force himself to nod.
Toshio smiled again, and his smile had a hint of warmth in it. “You’re probably wondering how I found out. Well, it could have been the pregnancy…”
Keitaro felt his heart turn to granite in his chest. He had the sensation he was falling, and he believed that if he looked up, he would see the edge of the abyss rapidly receding upwards.
Toshio chuckled. “Relax, you didn’t get THAT lucky, she isn’t pregnant.”
“Then, then why…?”
“I’m sorry, that was petty, but the look on your face was priceless. I figure I was entitled to that…” The thin smile was then replaced by a coldly serious look. “I found out for sure three weeks ago, when I confronted her. But I’d suspected it for some time.”
“Three weeks ago…?” Keitaro asked numbly.
“Yes,” Toshio replied calmly. “So why didn’t I show up then? I’ll get to that later. I think you’re more interested in how I knew. Tsuruko was…different. I didn’t really notice at first, but she was a little…off.”
“Off?”
“Only way I could think of to describe it,” Toshio admitted. “She was a little more affectionate, but at the same time there was a distance to her. Despite the feeling that we seemed to be closer, she never was really able to look me in the eye. I don’t know if this makes any sense to you. I didn’t really notice anything for about a month, and even then, I didn’t have a clue that something had happened.”
Despite his fear, Keitaro found himself listening to Toshio with rapt attention, his curiosity and concern over Tsuruko getting the better of him.
“It wasn’t until a month later that I began to suspect something. You know what happened?” In an instant, Toshio’s calm demeanor vanished. “She called out your name in her sleep.” Toshio whispered coldly.
Keitaro blanched. ‘My God, have I done the same?’ Keitaro felt himself begin to tremble at this thought, as well as the fact that Toshio appeared to be having great difficulty maintaining his composure.
But at the back of his mind, despite the terror he was experiencing, Keitaro couldn’t miss the feeling, although he wasn’t sure what to call it, that briefly manifested itself upon learning that Tsuruko had been thinking of him, if only in her sleep.
With a visible effort, Toshio brought his expression to something approaching neutrality, but the memory of that look of loathing would haunt Keitaro’s nightmares the rest of his life. ‘Of course, ‘rest of my life’ might be shorter than I’d hoped…’
“Even then, I never thought it was possible,” Toshio added. “I knew about you of course. Tsuruko had told me how you almost became my brother in-law. I figured that she was dreaming of that battle, she does that from time to time. But after two weeks, I realized that it wasn’t that type of dream.” Toshio’s face had maintained its composure, but he was gripping the mug so hard his knuckles were white. “I didn’t want to believe it. I figured it was all a stupid misunderstanding, so I asked her over dinner one night, more jokingly than anything else, who ‘Keitaro’ was. I suspected her to laugh it off, look at me like I was crazy, but when she couldn’t look me in the eye…”
Toshio suddenly slumped, like a puppet with its strings cut. “I knew. I asked her point blank, but I already knew…” The fire had left Toshio as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him sounding burned out and beaten. “She told me what happened, and couldn’t stop blaming herself.” He then lifted his gaze and regarded Keitaro closely. “I suppose you’re wondering why I haven’t killed you yet…”
“Yeah…”
“I still might,” Toshio stated thoughtfully. “Tsuruko asked me not to blame you or hurt you, but I might do that anyway. As for why I didn’t come earlier, well, that’s a longer story. Do you know how Tsuruko and I met?”
“Uh, no…” replied Keitaro, puzzled by the strange direction the conversation had taken.
A distant look came over Toshio’s features as he began to speak. “It was years ago, I was walking through Kyoto, don’t recall why, when I saw her across the street. She was a vision of loveliness, and I decided that I had to meet her. I followed her for a block or two, before I worked up the nerve to approach her, and ask if she would like to go have a drink with me. She looked at me for a moment or two, and without a word, drew her sword and took a swipe at me. This huge energy wave came roaring at me, and before I knew what had happened, the dumpster behind me fell into two pieces.”
“Cutting Evil Technique: Second Form,” interjected Keitaro without thinking.
Toshio raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen it?”
“Once or twice…”
Toshio looked at Keitaro with a grudging respect. “So you know what she’s capable of. Anyway, she then gave me a winning smile, and asked if I was still interested. After taking a few seconds to get my heart beating again, I told her I was. She seemed a little surprised, but she agreed to meet me for tea later that afternoon. We bid each other goodbye, and I went home to, well… change my clothes…”
Keitaro found himself nodding at that. When Motoko had practiced the technique on him, he’d damn near lost control of his plumbing.
“We met up later that afternoon, and I was the perfect gentleman,” Toshio assured Keitaro. “Believe me, I wasn’t going to piss her off. We seemed to hit it off, so we made plans to meet up the following week. Things were going well, and we kept making plans to meet each other again. It wasn’t until the seventh date that we finally kissed. And even then, she made the first move, and afterwards she asked why I hadn’t tried to kiss her earlier. I told her, quite truthfully, that I didn’t want to upset her. She thought that was amusing, and she said that if she wasn’t interested in me, she wouldn’t have agreed to keep seeing me.”
“We dated for about sixteen months, before I asked her to marry me. When she said ‘yes’, I felt like the luckiest guy alive. She loved me, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me!” Toshio then narrowed his eyes and glared daggers at Keitaro. “And then I found out she’d had an affair. Who cares if it was alcohol fueled and only one night, she betrayed me! I would have given her anything and she does this!” he hissed.
“You were wondering why I waited so long? Here’s why…” Toshio took a few seconds to try to calm himself down before he proceeded. “I’ve always thought of myself as an honorable man. I’ve never done anything illegal or unethical, and I’ve tried to live a good life. I’ve never hit a woman. EVER. Well… I did have an older sister,” Toshio admitted, “and we did fight from time to time, but I’ve never struck a woman with hurtful intent. I once decked a punk who slapped his girlfriend in front of me. Simply put, men who hurt women are scum, and deserve no mercy.” Toshio’s face was twisted in anger, and Keitaro could see he was serious.
Toshio then appeared to collapse in on himself. “Imagine my shame then, when I was forced to face the fact that I may have been more hurtful than that punk I floored. Tsuruko and I had our differences of course, but I’ve never thought of myself as a bad man. I’ve always tried to be there for her, be supportive, even when we had trouble having children. And now I find out that I have been crueler to her than if I’d struck her.” Toshio shook his head sadly. “Hardly my proudest moment…”
He then returned his gaze to Keitaro. “That’s why I waited. Tsuruko and I talked, and I listened to her, maybe for the first time in a long while, really. Having her tell me how cruel I’ve been, how cold, it really hurt. To hear the one you love say such horrible things about you, and to know that they’re right…” Toshio sighed deeply, then continued. “Instead of rushing over to kill you, well, you might say I took a little time to try and find myself. I haven’t liked what I’ve discovered. I hate what I’ve done, but I don’t know if I can change.”
Listening to Toshio talk about his own feelings was a strange experience for Keitaro. On the one hand, he was still afraid of what he might do in retaliation, but on the other hand, the misery and self-loathing in his voice gave him pause. Here was a man who had looked into the depths of his own soul and been disgusted by what he’d found. Keitaro found it to be surprisingly easy to relate to him at the moment. ‘It’s not like I’m proud of myself either…’
“I don’t know what happens now,” remarked Toshio. “I’m angry at Tsuruko, but I can’t bring myself to blame her either. If I’d been a better husband, this probably would never had happened. I’m mad at you, but I promised Tsuruko that I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Then, then why…?”
“Guess I wanted to put you through some misery as well,” Toshio replied candidly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hit you, you’re safe.” He then gave Keitaro a thin smile, but for some reason, this smile frightened him more than anything else that had happened so far.
“What, what now?”
“I go home and see if I can make some changes in my life, and see if I can patch things up with Tsuruko. You, you get to go home unscathed.”
“…All right…” despite Toshio’s assurances, Keitaro’s instincts were screaming that something was wrong, that this had been too easy. They kept screaming even as Toshio paid for their tea and gestured for him to follow. “Where are we going?”
“Back home. Don’t worry, I vowed to Tsuruko that I wouldn’t hurt you, and I keep my vows.”
Unlike her. Keitaro was almost certain that Toshio had added that thought at the end of his sentence. With his self-preservation instincts still emphatically insisting that he make a break for it, Keitaro fell into step with Toshio as they walked back to Hinata House. He kept stealing discrete looks at Toshio, hoping that the hint of maliciousness in his smile was only his imagination.
The walk back was silent, and attempts to bid farewell to Toshio and go home alone kept dying on Keitaro’s lips. He didn’t want to have Toshio escort him home; if he’d had his way, he would have never met him, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to brush him off. Besides, he had the feeling that Toshio would have politely, but firmly, rebuffed his attempts.
The two men ascended the stairs, more of the residence coming into view with every step. Clearing the top, Toshio leaned towards Keitaro, and threw his arm over his shoulder in a friendly fashion, like two life-long friends returning from catching up on old times. This struck Keitaro as completely bizarre, as well as disconcerting; after a couple more strides towards the door, Keitaro tried to shrug off the arm, but was shocked to discover that while Toshio’s embrace might look comradely, it was as secure as an anacondas.
Openly struggling to escape Toshio’s grip, which felt like a steel cable Keitaro noticed in a detached way, he was chilled when he happened to glance at Toshio’s face. He was still smiling, but now his expression was full of wicked vinegar, his eyes flashing.
“I may have been incorrect Keitaro.” Toshio’s voice was still calm and collected, completely at odds with his expression. He continued walking up the porch, effortlessly dragging Keitaro along as if he was a recalcitrant child.
“What are you talking about?” Keitaro was now trying to dig in his heels and stop the procession into the residence, using his free hand to clutch at the porch, hoping that he’d be able to hold on. He was frightened now, desperate to avoid going inside with Toshio.
“I vowed I wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this unscathed,” he rasped. A blink, and the menace was gone from his features, a genuinely warm smile in place as he dragged Keitaro inside, calling out, “We’re back!”
“Toshio?” replied Motoko, as she came down the stairs.
“Ah, hello Motoko.”
“What are you doing here?” A look of concern came over her face. “Is something wrong with my sister?”
“No, she’s fine. I had business with Keitaro here.”
“Who is this guy?” asked Naru as she entered the living room, followed by Shinobu. Toshio‘s announcement had drawn all of the residents.
“This is Toshio Aoyama, my sister’s husband,” replied Motoko.
“What would you want with Keitaro?” wondered Naru.
In a moment of horrifying clarity, Keitaro realized exactly what Toshio had planned, and that there was now nothing he could do to stop it. He also realized that if Toshio had simply beaten him, he would have been lucky.
“I just wanted to ask him if there was good reason for why he slept with my wife.” Toshio spoke in a calm, reasonable manner, sounding more like he was discussing the weather than infidelity.
A sudden, awful, suffocating silence fell over the room. Keitaro felt the world start to spin, and he had the strange sensation that he was floating over the room, watching all that transpired.
“I, I beg your pardon?” Naru asked hesitantly, after a long moment.
“Why he slept with Tsuruko,” Toshio repeated. “I found his answers to be…different than I expected.” Toshio’s smile widened, and he released Keitaro and took his numb hand in his own, shaking it twice. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you Keitaro. If you’ll excuse me…” he nodded his head to the other residents, offered Motoko a more formal farewell, and walked out the door, leaving Keitaro to his fate.
Back in the living room, the scene resembled a still-life painting, as nobody had moved since Toshio had casually dropped his bombshell. Keitaro felt sickened, and he wondered if he was going to faint, as his worst nightmare had just become horrifying reality. ‘Please, somebody wake me up, tell me this is only a dream…’
The tense silence was predictably broken by Naru, but it was in the most unexpected way: laughter. Laughing lightly, she shook her head in wonderment. “Yeah, right… Motoko, you gotta tell your brother in-law to fire his gag writer. God, your sister and Keitaro?” Her laughter grew in strength, now joined by some of the other residents.
“I agree,” replied Motoko. “As if my sister would have anything to do with Urashima. Even he wouldn’t do anything that foolish…”
The universe, it seemed to Keitaro, had a flair for irony. The two women who had constantly accused him of being lecherous were now coming to his defense. For a moment, he even considered playing along with their reasoning, and acting like it was all a joke. But in his heart, he knew it wouldn’t work, especially since Naru had gotten a good look at his face.
Naru turned back to Keitaro, chuckling to herself at the absurdity of Toshio’s accusation. She was going to comment further, but the words died in her throat at the look on Keitaro’s face. He wasn’t stammering, or flailing his arms wildly as he shouted denials. He was just standing there ashen, looking the way a condemned man might look under the hood at the moment the trapdoor was pulled.
The others heard her laughter die away, and they all noticed the same look on Keitaro. An even more ominous silence fell over the room, as the possibility that this wasn’t some twisted joke raised its head.
“No…no, he couldn’t have been serious, right?” declared Naru. She still had a disbelieving look, but it was now the same type as a man in the path of an oncoming train.
“I cannot believe that my sister would betray her husband,” added Motoko. However, the ember of suspicion had grown into an open flame; currently small, but with the potential to turn into a firestorm. ‘Ridiculous,’ the logical part of her mind scoffed. ‘He would never do anything that rash, and my sister with HIM? Impossible…’ Yet she could feel the fire of suspicion growing inside her. She quietly slipped out of the room, determined to get to the bottom of this.
Keitaro barely registered Motoko’s departure, as he felt his world crashing down around him. The looks of dawning realization Naru and Shinobu were wearing, together with Kitsune’s open disbelief, was a clear signal that the residents were starting to realize that this wasn’t a joke. ‘What happens now?’ he wondered. ‘Maybe it isn’t so bad, after all, I’m not really involved with anyone here…’ The last thought was desperate enough that it almost made him laugh. He looked at his study partner and possible romantic interest, her pretty features marred by open disbelief and hints of sadness. Naru was the most beautiful when she smiled, but Keitaro was doubtful that she’d ever smile at him again. ‘Naru, I’m sorry…’
“YOU WHAT?”
Keitaro quailed at the power of Motoko’s shriek from the kitchen. ‘Christ, I FELT that! She must have called Tsuruko… No point in denying it now…’
Moments later, Motoko reappeared in the doorway, the murderous look in her eyes causing Keitaro to unconsciously take a step back in fear. When Motoko was calm, she was as lovely as a china doll, but rage did nothing for her looks. Throughout the time he’d served as the landlord at Hinata House, Keitaro had had many chances to see Motoko enraged, usually caused by, or directed towards, himself. He’d seen her mad, angry, and pissed off, but never before had he seen her like this, white faced and shaking with fury. Her hand kept touching the hilt of her sword, before it was reluctantly pulled away.
“You bastard…” Motoko hissed. She’d called Keitaro that before, but this time her insult was laced with pure, unfiltered hatred. “You worthless, honorless, opportunistic, son of a whore… Getting my sister drunk, and then taking advantage of her…”
“You’re kidding, right?” a goggling Kitsune asked. “This is Keitaro we’re talking about.”
“I called my sister,” Motoko seethed. “She told me what happened that night, how the two of you met up and ended up in a love hotel.” She stalked towards Keitaro, death in her eyes.
Keitaro didn’t even consider running or trying to defend himself; there wouldn’t be any point. ‘Will she cut off my head or… something else…?’ He flinched inwardly, not sure which would be worse.
Reaching Keitaro, Motoko stood so her face was less than an inch from his. He could clearly feel her ragged breathing, coming from between tightly clenched teeth, against his face. The killing glare in her eyes frightening him, causing him to tremble where he stood. “My sister blames herself for this, but I do not,” stated Motoko, visibly quivering with rage. “She also directed that I not harm you. You have no idea how much I wish to disobey her, but I swore I wouldn’t. I will not sully my blade with your blood.” She then gave him her fiercest look she’d ever used, perhaps hoping to frighten him to death.
She’d never realize how close she’d come to succeeding. Keitaro would swear that his heart actually exploded inside his chest, before Motoko abruptly turned her back on him, both literally and figuratively, and strode out of the room, without so much as a glance back.
‘Tsuruko told her not to kill me? Why?’ Keitaro considered this for less than a second, as his eyes fell upon the one person he wanted to see the most, as well as the least. Naru was standing there, seemingly shell-shocked, looking like she was on the verge of either exploding with fury, or bursting into tears, or both. Her jaw was set, but Keitaro was certain he saw tears forming in her eyes. “Naru…” he began weakly.
“I hate you.”
There was none of the usual fire in those words, they were spoken in a normal volume and tone, but they cut Keitaro deeper than even Motoko’s sword could have. It was the calmness that hurt most; there was no apparent anger forcing out words that would later be regretted, it was a simple declaration of fact. He was used to being yelled at, or struck, but he’d never been assaulted physically in a way that was as painful as those three words. In that moment, and with the finality of a coffin being nailed shut, Keitaro knew that he’d lost Naru, and that he would never be able to redeem himself to her.
That thought was almost as painful as her declaration…
Without another word, Naru turned and headed up the stairs, followed closely by a babbling Kitsune, who was concerned about her friend. Naru’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions; rage and sadness were struggling for dominance, with feelings of betrayal coming in a strong third. She hardly registered what Kitsune was saying as she made her way to her room, feeling like a passenger in her own body. Naru did know that she’d been truthful when she’d spoken to Keitaro. When she’d realized that Toshio’s accusation was true, after a brief period of stunned inaction, she’d asked herself what she felt, and at that moment, she realized that she hated Keitaro.
She had felt herself getting closer to him with time, accepting all of his idiosyncrasies, only to find out that he hadn’t valued her enough to be true to her. A small section of her mind was asking her why he should have waited for her if she wasn’t actively pursuing him, but she slammed the door on those errant thoughts.
Feeling numb from the eyes down, and her thoughts reeling, Naru was only dimly aware that she had sank down to the floor of her room, and let herself fall into Kitsune’s comforting embrace. Silently, she opened the dam on her tears, the warm liquid leaving a damp spot on her friends shirt.
Back in the living room, Keitaro slumped against the wall, his legs having buckled after Naru had walked out on him, in all senses of the word. Her words echoed in his mind, tormenting him, reminding him of what he’d done and what he’d lost. ‘Who I lost,’ he corrected. ‘She-she’s gone… I’ll… I’ll never be able to be with her, let her know what she means to me…’ He blinked, his eyes stinging with tears that were ready to fall.
He reasoned that he should be angry with Toshio for doing this, but he realized that this was probably similar to what Toshio felt when he’d learned of Tsuruko’s transgression. ‘If he felt half as miserable as I do, I can’t really blame him… Just returning the favor…’
Keitaro was vaguely aware of two people standing over him. He lifted his head a little and saw that Su and Shinobu were looking at him. Su had crouched down and was regarding him with a curious look on her face, while Shinobu also looked to be on the verge of tears.
“Hey Shinobu, what’s the big deal? I slept with Keitaro and Naru that one time, and I sleep with Motoko.”
Su’s innocent question almost made Shinobu laugh. Almost. “It-it’s complicated Su,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “Let’s leave everyone alone, okay? Maybe they’ll feel better later.” ‘But I doubt it,’ Shinobu added silently.
“Okies. Want some bananas Shinobu?”
The blue haired girl forced herself to smile. “Sure.”
“Great! There’s a fresh crop in my room!” Before Shinobu had a chance to object, Su grabbed her by the wrist and bodily pulled her up the stairs, leaving only a dust cloud in her wake.
Now alone in the living room, the wall the only thing keeping him from slumping bonelessly to the floor, Keitaro contemplated the smoking ruin his life had just become. ’No,’ he amended, ‘it was ruined the second I started kissing Tsuruko back. I’ve just been delaying the inevitable…’ Part of him wanted to place the blame elsewhere; Tsuruko, alcohol, the rain, the fact that the residents had upset him to the point of needing to take a walk. But in the end, Keitaro knew, deep in his heart and soul, that he was the architect of his own downfall. ‘It’s my fault. No matter how much I wish it wasn’t, it’s my own fault.’
Keitaro couldn’t bring himself to move from his current location, despite how uncomfortable it was, so he stayed motionless, his tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Although it wasn’t even four in the afternoon, it wasn’t until well after midnight that Keitaro finally rose and walked on numbed legs to his room, only to instantly collapse on his futon, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
XXX
“So why didn’t you tell me what happened?” asked Haruka.
Haruka and Keitaro were both sitting in the Café Hinata; three days had passed since Keitaro’s one night stand with Tsuruko had become common knowledge. Keitaro had gone into self-imposed isolation, actively avoiding all of the residents, who in turn were avoiding him. He spent most of his time in his room, even taking his meals there, and doing maintenance around the residence that would take him into its most remote areas.
His diet now consisted almost exclusively of instant ramen and snack food, supplemented by what leftovers he could take from the refrigerator late at night. Su’s appetite, sometimes resulted in this being slim pickings. Once, when he came back to his room, he had found a tray inside his door, obviously from Shinobu. He was grateful, and extremely touched, but he couldn’t thank the little chef publicly, for fear of alienating her from the others, who were avoiding him like the plague.
“Didn’t know how you’d react,” Keitaro confessed. “I was worried that someone would overhear…”
“So you just kept it a secret, but everyone found out anyway,” finished Haruka, savagely crushing out her cigarette before lighting up another. Haruka’s legendary unflappability was being put to it’s greatest test. When Keitaro had entered the shop this afternoon, she’d had no idea what had been going on in Hinata House, but things hadn’t felt right to her. She’d asked him what was happening, and found herself struck dumb as he’d confessed to his transgression with Tsuruko, and how the truth had come out.
Struck speechless, Haruka digested that information for a couple of moments before she’d been able to think of a response. ‘Keitaro and a married woman, who woulda thought it.’ She shook her head ruefully. ‘You’ve always been a lightening rod for trouble, but this…’ “What did you think I’d do?” Haruka asked her nephew.
“I, I don’t know,” admitted Keitaro. “Maybe tell someone, be angry with me, I just didn’t know…”
Haruka’s eyebrows went up a little. “You honestly thought I’d tell the others?” she asked calmly, but with a hint of disbelief in her voice.
“Yes! I mean no! I mean… I, I, I couldn’t take a chance!” Keitaro babbled.
Haruka swallowed her righteous indignation at the sound of imminent panic in Keitaro. ‘It’s not like he wasn’t under some strain,’ she reasoned. ‘Who knows what he was thinking?’ “You still should have trusted me,” she gently rebuked.
“I know…” Keitaro had his head in his hands, staring morosely at the table top.
After a minutes more contemplation, Haruka asked, “What happens now?”
“I don’t know,” Keitaro replied honestly. “You’re the only person I’ve spoken to since it came out.”
“But that was three days ago,” Haruka pointed out.
“I know. No one’s talked to me since then. And to be honest, I haven’t wanted to talk to anyone either. I mean, what could I say? ‘Hey Naru, I’m sorry I slept with another woman, want to study together?’ or maybe ‘You look good today Motoko, I apologize for ruining your sisters marriage?’” Keitaro asked bitterly. “I screwed up, and now no one wants to deal with me.”
“They can’t all hate you, and you and Naru weren’t actually a couple, were you?”
“Maybe we weren’t,” conceded Keitaro, “but I wanted us to be one. But apparently I didn’t want it enough to wait for her,” he added despondently. “She hates me, and Motoko wants to kill me. The only reason she doesn’t is because Tsuruko asked her not to. But if I ever gave her the slightest excuse…” Keitaro found himself shuddering at that thought.
“What are you going to do?” Haruka asked softly.
“What can I do?” he replied after a minute. “I won’t go home, and I couldn’t leave anyway. I’m the owner and landlord of Hinata House. Grandma was clear on that point.”
Haruka found that she had nothing she could say to that.
“Will they forgive me?” Keitaro murmured softly.
“What was that?” Haruka hadn’t heard what Keitaro had mumbled.
“Will they ever forgive me?”
Haruka pursed her lips. Her eyes took on a distant look as she remembered the love triangle that had existed between Seta, Sarah’s mother, and herself. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe, if they want to. Perhaps, with time, even Naru might forgive you. But I can’t say one way or the other.”
“Didn’t think so…”
“Forgive me for being blunt, but why did you do it?”
“I don’t know, it’s not like I planned it…” At Haruka’s doubting look, Keitaro found himself getting vehement.. “You’re kidding… Do you really think I’d do something that stupid?” he asked incredulously. “With a married woman, no less? Jeez, I know it took me a few times to get into Tokyo University, but I’m not THAT dumb!” Keitaro closed his eyes and counted to ten to calm himself down. “I didn’t want this at all! I just went away to clear my head…”
Haruka regarded her nephew closely for a minute, before she sat back and took a long drag on her cigarette. “You know, from anyone else I’d say they were lying. It never ‘just happens’. But I don’t think you could lie to me to save your life. Although, being drunk didn’t help matters any…” she added.
“That’s no excuse,” Keitaro responded.
“Didn’t say it was,” Haruka pointed out. “But it sure didn’t help.”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah.”
The two Urashimas sat silently, each idly sipping their tea, which had now gone cold. After a few minutes of silence, which while it wasn’t excruciating, wasn’t all that comfortable either, Keitaro spoke again. “Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” Haruka prompted, after a few seconds of silence.
“Maybe because it felt…nice…to be wanted, even if it wasn’t right… Maybe I was lonelier than I thought, or because what Tsuruko said struck a chord.”
“You felt sorry for her?”
“I don’t think ‘sorry’ is the right word,” replied Keitaro. “‘Connection’ maybe, or perhaps ‘understanding’.”
“I don’t think that excuses infidelity,” Haruka deadpanned.
Keitaro gave Haruka a look that screamed ‘no shit!’, but he kept his silence for a moment. “Maybe it was just two lonely people trying to find comfort in the other.”
Haruka bit back the reply that sprang to her lips. There was enough truth in that statement, and she’d had that feeling herself on a few occasions, even if she wasn’t about to admit it. She looked at Keitaro, remembering all that he’d said, and thinking back to her own experiences. ‘Poor kid didn’t have enough emotional experience to have something like this happen.’
‘Then again, would I have done any better?’ Haruka asked herself. She thought about it, and realized that she honestly wasn’t sure.
“You screwed up Keitaro, but I can’t say that you should have known better. Well, yes, you should have,” clarified Haruka, “but you got tangled up in something you weren’t expecting.”
“What does that mean?”
“Take it as you want it. I can’t judge you, only you can do that.”
Keitaro contemplated her words. “Thanks Aunt Haruka…”
Out of consideration for his current emotional turmoil, Haruka didn’t whap him with her harisen for calling her ‘Aunt’. “If you need to talk some more, my door is always open….”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be coming back for a while.”
“Why?”
Keitaro gave a weak smile. “Everyone’s pissed at me, I don’t want you to be guilty by association. Thanks for the tea.” He finished his drink, stood up and walked out, leaving a concerned Haruka alone in her shop.
‘You always did put others happiness ahead of your own, Keitaro,’ Haruka silently mused. She finished her own tea and extinguished her cigarette with a sigh. “Good luck Keitaro,” she told the empty shop. “I think you’re going to need it.”
Outside the shop, Keitaro was slowly walking up the stairs towards Hinata House, mentally planning out his avoidance strategy for the day. ‘The roof needs some work, and since Motoko’s done training, and Shinobu did laundry yesterday, I shouldn’t be disturbed. After that, there’s some pipes in the basement that need replacing That should be enough for today, but what about tomorrow?’ he sighed. ‘Looks like another day in my room, unless something else breaks.’
Keitaro reluctantly continued up the stairs, wondering how long he’d be forced to live like this, and wondering what, if anything, he could do to make things easier for everyone.
It would be some time before the idea would first come to him.
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes: What? You were expecting an epic battle, or Keitaro in intensive care? Sorry to disappoint you…
But in the long run, I think what Toshio did was far more insidious, and was potentially more damaging than simple violence.
Once again, thanks to Random1377 for bitch-slapping any traces of crappy dialogue, clunky writing, and general suck, out of this chapter.
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
Manga continuity, after the “Burn-Up Blade” story line
Love Hina:
Ships in the Night
Chapter Three: Shots Across the Bow
“Sempai! SEMPAI! Are you alright?”
“W-what? Shinobu?”
“Are you hurt?”
“What do you mean?”
“You dropped the hot chocolate. Are you cut?”
Keitaro looked down and realized that he was standing in a puddle of hot chocolate. ‘How’d that happen?’ he wondered. ‘I was talking with Toshio and-’ Keitaro’s thought process seized when he remembered exactly who Toshio was. “I-I’m okay Shinobu, I’m just clumsy.” He looked up and saw Toshio still standing there, smiling warmly, unless you looked at his eyes.
Forcing down the impulse to run for his life, Keitaro turned to Tsuruko’s husband and managed to squeak out, “Toshio, do you mind waiting outside? We-we can talk in a few minutes. I, I need to clean this up…”
To Keitaro’s surprise, Toshio agreed. “No problem, take all the time that you need.” Nodding politely to Shinobu, he turned around and walked back towards the steps.
Shinobu watched the stranger leave. “Um, sempai, who was that?” She was concerned that Keitaro had gone ghostly pale, and she swore she could hear his heart beating.
“Friend of a friend,” he murmured. “I need to clean this up and go talk with him.”
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine Shinobu,” Keitaro reassured her. “Mug just slipped, that’s all. I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.”
“Okay sempai…” Shinobu was still a little concerned, but she wasn’t sure she could do anything. She returned to the kitchen and left Keitaro to his task.
‘Shit, shit, shit…’ This thought was on an endless loop in Keitaro’s head, as he cleaned up the hot chocolate and shards of the mug on autopilot. He contemplated the odds of living to see another sunset; they frightened him, but there was nothing he could do.
Clean up complete, Keitaro grabbed a jacket, pulled on some shoes and walked out the door. There was always the hope that he’d taken so long to clean up that Toshio had given up and gone home. No such luck. Toshio was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
“Wasn’t sure if you were going to make a run for it,” Toshio remarked.
“Would it have made a difference?” Keitaro asked weakly.
Toshio shook his head. “No.”
“Didn’t think so…”
“Walk with me Keitaro.” Without waiting for a response, Toshio turned and walked down the steps.
Afraid of disobeying him, Keitaro fell into step beside Toshio. ‘Is he worried about embarrassing me?’ Keitaro pondered. ‘Or were there just too many witnesses for him to kill me back there?’ Not liking this current train of thought, Keitaro tried to figure out how to explain his actions, but he realized that all his rationalizations felt hollow even to him.
The two men walked in silence, Toshio obviously not interested in casual conversation, and Keitaro too scared to say anything. ‘Besides, maybe he doesn’t know I slept with his wife. Yeah, right…’ Keitaro had seen the look in Toshio’s eyes. He knew. And he knew that Keitaro knew that he knew. ‘He’s probably just trying to frighten me a little before he kills me. And he’s succeeding…’
Keitaro barely noticed any of the details of the walk, he was so wrapped up in his own fears. He did notice that they seemed to be staying in the downtown area, which he found a little reassuring. ‘Still plenty of witnesses… Unless he’s too pissed off to care…’ Considering what Keitaro had done, he couldn’t rule this out.
Finally, Toshio stopped in front of a coffee shop. “Come inside,” he ordered.
‘Another goddamn coffee shop,’ fumed Keitaro. All this had started in a coffee shop, and if he never entered one again, it would be too soon. He let out a sigh. ‘Least it’s not a dark alley,’ he reassured himself.
They sat down at a booth, and Toshio ordered tea for the both of them. The drink didn’t really matter to Keitaro, but he was relieved that Toshio hadn’t ordered coffee. The server brought them their tea, and the two men faced each other over the table, Toshio calmly sipping his tea, while Keitaro’s mug shook whenever he held it.
The silence seemed to go on forever to Keitaro, and the absurdity of the situation struck home. Here he was, sitting peacefully in a coffee shop, civilly drinking tea with the husband of the woman he’d slept with almost four months earlier.
Toshio didn’t seem to be carrying a sword, although if Motoko could pull one out of thin air, maybe her brother in law could as well. He hadn’t raised his voice, thrown a punch or a kick, pulled a gun, or shoved him in front of a bus, all things that he would have expected. He hadn’t looked forward to any of these, but they wouldn’t have surprised him.
By all outward appearances, this was two friends going out for a drink together, and waiting for the other shoe to drop was driving Keitaro insane. ‘Dammit, say something will you? I’m going to have a heart attack!’
Toshio then looked at him sharply, and for a second Keitaro wondered if he’d accidentally said that out loud. ‘Or maybe he can read minds…’
“I have one question,” began Toshio. He then chuckled softly, and this time the humor did reach his eyes. “Well, more than one,” he clarified, “but this is the most important one. Whose fault was it?”
“Mine,” Keitaro answered instantly.
Toshio raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“If I hadn’t met up with her, this wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have drank, I should’ve taken her home…” Keitaro let out all the feelings he’d bottled up for months. It was almost a relief to be able to talk about it, even though he was confessing to the last person on the planet he would have expected. “If I’d been thinking more clearly, if I’d been stronger it wouldn’t have happened.”
Toshio didn’t react at all to Keitaro’s allocution, he simply remained calm, and continued to sip at his tea. After a moment, he set down his drink and broke his silence. “Interesting…”
Keitaro blinked, clearly confused by Toshio’s apparent lack of reaction. “I-I beg your pardon?” he asked weakly.
“I asked Tsuruko the same question,” Toshio continued, ignoring Keitaro’s query. “Do you know what she said?” When Keitaro shook his head in response, Toshio continued. “She blamed herself, said that she didn’t give you any choice in the matter. She said she took advantage of your kind nature, that she started it, and that it was all her fault.”
“No! It wasn’t her fault! If I had simply taken her home-” Keitaro shut up when Toshio raised his hand.
“I’m talking now,” Toshio interrupted, a hint of warning in his eyes. “I would have expected the two of you to blame the other, but you both blame yourselves. I find that strange…” After a few minutes of agonizing silence, Toshio looked Keitaro straight in the eye. “I imagine you have some questions of your own, right?”
Keitaro was just able to force himself to nod.
Toshio smiled again, and his smile had a hint of warmth in it. “You’re probably wondering how I found out. Well, it could have been the pregnancy…”
Keitaro felt his heart turn to granite in his chest. He had the sensation he was falling, and he believed that if he looked up, he would see the edge of the abyss rapidly receding upwards.
Toshio chuckled. “Relax, you didn’t get THAT lucky, she isn’t pregnant.”
“Then, then why…?”
“I’m sorry, that was petty, but the look on your face was priceless. I figure I was entitled to that…” The thin smile was then replaced by a coldly serious look. “I found out for sure three weeks ago, when I confronted her. But I’d suspected it for some time.”
“Three weeks ago…?” Keitaro asked numbly.
“Yes,” Toshio replied calmly. “So why didn’t I show up then? I’ll get to that later. I think you’re more interested in how I knew. Tsuruko was…different. I didn’t really notice at first, but she was a little…off.”
“Off?”
“Only way I could think of to describe it,” Toshio admitted. “She was a little more affectionate, but at the same time there was a distance to her. Despite the feeling that we seemed to be closer, she never was really able to look me in the eye. I don’t know if this makes any sense to you. I didn’t really notice anything for about a month, and even then, I didn’t have a clue that something had happened.”
Despite his fear, Keitaro found himself listening to Toshio with rapt attention, his curiosity and concern over Tsuruko getting the better of him.
“It wasn’t until a month later that I began to suspect something. You know what happened?” In an instant, Toshio’s calm demeanor vanished. “She called out your name in her sleep.” Toshio whispered coldly.
Keitaro blanched. ‘My God, have I done the same?’ Keitaro felt himself begin to tremble at this thought, as well as the fact that Toshio appeared to be having great difficulty maintaining his composure.
But at the back of his mind, despite the terror he was experiencing, Keitaro couldn’t miss the feeling, although he wasn’t sure what to call it, that briefly manifested itself upon learning that Tsuruko had been thinking of him, if only in her sleep.
With a visible effort, Toshio brought his expression to something approaching neutrality, but the memory of that look of loathing would haunt Keitaro’s nightmares the rest of his life. ‘Of course, ‘rest of my life’ might be shorter than I’d hoped…’
“Even then, I never thought it was possible,” Toshio added. “I knew about you of course. Tsuruko had told me how you almost became my brother in-law. I figured that she was dreaming of that battle, she does that from time to time. But after two weeks, I realized that it wasn’t that type of dream.” Toshio’s face had maintained its composure, but he was gripping the mug so hard his knuckles were white. “I didn’t want to believe it. I figured it was all a stupid misunderstanding, so I asked her over dinner one night, more jokingly than anything else, who ‘Keitaro’ was. I suspected her to laugh it off, look at me like I was crazy, but when she couldn’t look me in the eye…”
Toshio suddenly slumped, like a puppet with its strings cut. “I knew. I asked her point blank, but I already knew…” The fire had left Toshio as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him sounding burned out and beaten. “She told me what happened, and couldn’t stop blaming herself.” He then lifted his gaze and regarded Keitaro closely. “I suppose you’re wondering why I haven’t killed you yet…”
“Yeah…”
“I still might,” Toshio stated thoughtfully. “Tsuruko asked me not to blame you or hurt you, but I might do that anyway. As for why I didn’t come earlier, well, that’s a longer story. Do you know how Tsuruko and I met?”
“Uh, no…” replied Keitaro, puzzled by the strange direction the conversation had taken.
A distant look came over Toshio’s features as he began to speak. “It was years ago, I was walking through Kyoto, don’t recall why, when I saw her across the street. She was a vision of loveliness, and I decided that I had to meet her. I followed her for a block or two, before I worked up the nerve to approach her, and ask if she would like to go have a drink with me. She looked at me for a moment or two, and without a word, drew her sword and took a swipe at me. This huge energy wave came roaring at me, and before I knew what had happened, the dumpster behind me fell into two pieces.”
“Cutting Evil Technique: Second Form,” interjected Keitaro without thinking.
Toshio raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen it?”
“Once or twice…”
Toshio looked at Keitaro with a grudging respect. “So you know what she’s capable of. Anyway, she then gave me a winning smile, and asked if I was still interested. After taking a few seconds to get my heart beating again, I told her I was. She seemed a little surprised, but she agreed to meet me for tea later that afternoon. We bid each other goodbye, and I went home to, well… change my clothes…”
Keitaro found himself nodding at that. When Motoko had practiced the technique on him, he’d damn near lost control of his plumbing.
“We met up later that afternoon, and I was the perfect gentleman,” Toshio assured Keitaro. “Believe me, I wasn’t going to piss her off. We seemed to hit it off, so we made plans to meet up the following week. Things were going well, and we kept making plans to meet each other again. It wasn’t until the seventh date that we finally kissed. And even then, she made the first move, and afterwards she asked why I hadn’t tried to kiss her earlier. I told her, quite truthfully, that I didn’t want to upset her. She thought that was amusing, and she said that if she wasn’t interested in me, she wouldn’t have agreed to keep seeing me.”
“We dated for about sixteen months, before I asked her to marry me. When she said ‘yes’, I felt like the luckiest guy alive. She loved me, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me!” Toshio then narrowed his eyes and glared daggers at Keitaro. “And then I found out she’d had an affair. Who cares if it was alcohol fueled and only one night, she betrayed me! I would have given her anything and she does this!” he hissed.
“You were wondering why I waited so long? Here’s why…” Toshio took a few seconds to try to calm himself down before he proceeded. “I’ve always thought of myself as an honorable man. I’ve never done anything illegal or unethical, and I’ve tried to live a good life. I’ve never hit a woman. EVER. Well… I did have an older sister,” Toshio admitted, “and we did fight from time to time, but I’ve never struck a woman with hurtful intent. I once decked a punk who slapped his girlfriend in front of me. Simply put, men who hurt women are scum, and deserve no mercy.” Toshio’s face was twisted in anger, and Keitaro could see he was serious.
Toshio then appeared to collapse in on himself. “Imagine my shame then, when I was forced to face the fact that I may have been more hurtful than that punk I floored. Tsuruko and I had our differences of course, but I’ve never thought of myself as a bad man. I’ve always tried to be there for her, be supportive, even when we had trouble having children. And now I find out that I have been crueler to her than if I’d struck her.” Toshio shook his head sadly. “Hardly my proudest moment…”
He then returned his gaze to Keitaro. “That’s why I waited. Tsuruko and I talked, and I listened to her, maybe for the first time in a long while, really. Having her tell me how cruel I’ve been, how cold, it really hurt. To hear the one you love say such horrible things about you, and to know that they’re right…” Toshio sighed deeply, then continued. “Instead of rushing over to kill you, well, you might say I took a little time to try and find myself. I haven’t liked what I’ve discovered. I hate what I’ve done, but I don’t know if I can change.”
Listening to Toshio talk about his own feelings was a strange experience for Keitaro. On the one hand, he was still afraid of what he might do in retaliation, but on the other hand, the misery and self-loathing in his voice gave him pause. Here was a man who had looked into the depths of his own soul and been disgusted by what he’d found. Keitaro found it to be surprisingly easy to relate to him at the moment. ‘It’s not like I’m proud of myself either…’
“I don’t know what happens now,” remarked Toshio. “I’m angry at Tsuruko, but I can’t bring myself to blame her either. If I’d been a better husband, this probably would never had happened. I’m mad at you, but I promised Tsuruko that I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Then, then why…?”
“Guess I wanted to put you through some misery as well,” Toshio replied candidly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hit you, you’re safe.” He then gave Keitaro a thin smile, but for some reason, this smile frightened him more than anything else that had happened so far.
“What, what now?”
“I go home and see if I can make some changes in my life, and see if I can patch things up with Tsuruko. You, you get to go home unscathed.”
“…All right…” despite Toshio’s assurances, Keitaro’s instincts were screaming that something was wrong, that this had been too easy. They kept screaming even as Toshio paid for their tea and gestured for him to follow. “Where are we going?”
“Back home. Don’t worry, I vowed to Tsuruko that I wouldn’t hurt you, and I keep my vows.”
Unlike her. Keitaro was almost certain that Toshio had added that thought at the end of his sentence. With his self-preservation instincts still emphatically insisting that he make a break for it, Keitaro fell into step with Toshio as they walked back to Hinata House. He kept stealing discrete looks at Toshio, hoping that the hint of maliciousness in his smile was only his imagination.
The walk back was silent, and attempts to bid farewell to Toshio and go home alone kept dying on Keitaro’s lips. He didn’t want to have Toshio escort him home; if he’d had his way, he would have never met him, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to brush him off. Besides, he had the feeling that Toshio would have politely, but firmly, rebuffed his attempts.
The two men ascended the stairs, more of the residence coming into view with every step. Clearing the top, Toshio leaned towards Keitaro, and threw his arm over his shoulder in a friendly fashion, like two life-long friends returning from catching up on old times. This struck Keitaro as completely bizarre, as well as disconcerting; after a couple more strides towards the door, Keitaro tried to shrug off the arm, but was shocked to discover that while Toshio’s embrace might look comradely, it was as secure as an anacondas.
Openly struggling to escape Toshio’s grip, which felt like a steel cable Keitaro noticed in a detached way, he was chilled when he happened to glance at Toshio’s face. He was still smiling, but now his expression was full of wicked vinegar, his eyes flashing.
“I may have been incorrect Keitaro.” Toshio’s voice was still calm and collected, completely at odds with his expression. He continued walking up the porch, effortlessly dragging Keitaro along as if he was a recalcitrant child.
“What are you talking about?” Keitaro was now trying to dig in his heels and stop the procession into the residence, using his free hand to clutch at the porch, hoping that he’d be able to hold on. He was frightened now, desperate to avoid going inside with Toshio.
“I vowed I wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this unscathed,” he rasped. A blink, and the menace was gone from his features, a genuinely warm smile in place as he dragged Keitaro inside, calling out, “We’re back!”
“Toshio?” replied Motoko, as she came down the stairs.
“Ah, hello Motoko.”
“What are you doing here?” A look of concern came over her face. “Is something wrong with my sister?”
“No, she’s fine. I had business with Keitaro here.”
“Who is this guy?” asked Naru as she entered the living room, followed by Shinobu. Toshio‘s announcement had drawn all of the residents.
“This is Toshio Aoyama, my sister’s husband,” replied Motoko.
“What would you want with Keitaro?” wondered Naru.
In a moment of horrifying clarity, Keitaro realized exactly what Toshio had planned, and that there was now nothing he could do to stop it. He also realized that if Toshio had simply beaten him, he would have been lucky.
“I just wanted to ask him if there was good reason for why he slept with my wife.” Toshio spoke in a calm, reasonable manner, sounding more like he was discussing the weather than infidelity.
A sudden, awful, suffocating silence fell over the room. Keitaro felt the world start to spin, and he had the strange sensation that he was floating over the room, watching all that transpired.
“I, I beg your pardon?” Naru asked hesitantly, after a long moment.
“Why he slept with Tsuruko,” Toshio repeated. “I found his answers to be…different than I expected.” Toshio’s smile widened, and he released Keitaro and took his numb hand in his own, shaking it twice. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you Keitaro. If you’ll excuse me…” he nodded his head to the other residents, offered Motoko a more formal farewell, and walked out the door, leaving Keitaro to his fate.
Back in the living room, the scene resembled a still-life painting, as nobody had moved since Toshio had casually dropped his bombshell. Keitaro felt sickened, and he wondered if he was going to faint, as his worst nightmare had just become horrifying reality. ‘Please, somebody wake me up, tell me this is only a dream…’
The tense silence was predictably broken by Naru, but it was in the most unexpected way: laughter. Laughing lightly, she shook her head in wonderment. “Yeah, right… Motoko, you gotta tell your brother in-law to fire his gag writer. God, your sister and Keitaro?” Her laughter grew in strength, now joined by some of the other residents.
“I agree,” replied Motoko. “As if my sister would have anything to do with Urashima. Even he wouldn’t do anything that foolish…”
The universe, it seemed to Keitaro, had a flair for irony. The two women who had constantly accused him of being lecherous were now coming to his defense. For a moment, he even considered playing along with their reasoning, and acting like it was all a joke. But in his heart, he knew it wouldn’t work, especially since Naru had gotten a good look at his face.
Naru turned back to Keitaro, chuckling to herself at the absurdity of Toshio’s accusation. She was going to comment further, but the words died in her throat at the look on Keitaro’s face. He wasn’t stammering, or flailing his arms wildly as he shouted denials. He was just standing there ashen, looking the way a condemned man might look under the hood at the moment the trapdoor was pulled.
The others heard her laughter die away, and they all noticed the same look on Keitaro. An even more ominous silence fell over the room, as the possibility that this wasn’t some twisted joke raised its head.
“No…no, he couldn’t have been serious, right?” declared Naru. She still had a disbelieving look, but it was now the same type as a man in the path of an oncoming train.
“I cannot believe that my sister would betray her husband,” added Motoko. However, the ember of suspicion had grown into an open flame; currently small, but with the potential to turn into a firestorm. ‘Ridiculous,’ the logical part of her mind scoffed. ‘He would never do anything that rash, and my sister with HIM? Impossible…’ Yet she could feel the fire of suspicion growing inside her. She quietly slipped out of the room, determined to get to the bottom of this.
Keitaro barely registered Motoko’s departure, as he felt his world crashing down around him. The looks of dawning realization Naru and Shinobu were wearing, together with Kitsune’s open disbelief, was a clear signal that the residents were starting to realize that this wasn’t a joke. ‘What happens now?’ he wondered. ‘Maybe it isn’t so bad, after all, I’m not really involved with anyone here…’ The last thought was desperate enough that it almost made him laugh. He looked at his study partner and possible romantic interest, her pretty features marred by open disbelief and hints of sadness. Naru was the most beautiful when she smiled, but Keitaro was doubtful that she’d ever smile at him again. ‘Naru, I’m sorry…’
“YOU WHAT?”
Keitaro quailed at the power of Motoko’s shriek from the kitchen. ‘Christ, I FELT that! She must have called Tsuruko… No point in denying it now…’
Moments later, Motoko reappeared in the doorway, the murderous look in her eyes causing Keitaro to unconsciously take a step back in fear. When Motoko was calm, she was as lovely as a china doll, but rage did nothing for her looks. Throughout the time he’d served as the landlord at Hinata House, Keitaro had had many chances to see Motoko enraged, usually caused by, or directed towards, himself. He’d seen her mad, angry, and pissed off, but never before had he seen her like this, white faced and shaking with fury. Her hand kept touching the hilt of her sword, before it was reluctantly pulled away.
“You bastard…” Motoko hissed. She’d called Keitaro that before, but this time her insult was laced with pure, unfiltered hatred. “You worthless, honorless, opportunistic, son of a whore… Getting my sister drunk, and then taking advantage of her…”
“You’re kidding, right?” a goggling Kitsune asked. “This is Keitaro we’re talking about.”
“I called my sister,” Motoko seethed. “She told me what happened that night, how the two of you met up and ended up in a love hotel.” She stalked towards Keitaro, death in her eyes.
Keitaro didn’t even consider running or trying to defend himself; there wouldn’t be any point. ‘Will she cut off my head or… something else…?’ He flinched inwardly, not sure which would be worse.
Reaching Keitaro, Motoko stood so her face was less than an inch from his. He could clearly feel her ragged breathing, coming from between tightly clenched teeth, against his face. The killing glare in her eyes frightening him, causing him to tremble where he stood. “My sister blames herself for this, but I do not,” stated Motoko, visibly quivering with rage. “She also directed that I not harm you. You have no idea how much I wish to disobey her, but I swore I wouldn’t. I will not sully my blade with your blood.” She then gave him her fiercest look she’d ever used, perhaps hoping to frighten him to death.
She’d never realize how close she’d come to succeeding. Keitaro would swear that his heart actually exploded inside his chest, before Motoko abruptly turned her back on him, both literally and figuratively, and strode out of the room, without so much as a glance back.
‘Tsuruko told her not to kill me? Why?’ Keitaro considered this for less than a second, as his eyes fell upon the one person he wanted to see the most, as well as the least. Naru was standing there, seemingly shell-shocked, looking like she was on the verge of either exploding with fury, or bursting into tears, or both. Her jaw was set, but Keitaro was certain he saw tears forming in her eyes. “Naru…” he began weakly.
“I hate you.”
There was none of the usual fire in those words, they were spoken in a normal volume and tone, but they cut Keitaro deeper than even Motoko’s sword could have. It was the calmness that hurt most; there was no apparent anger forcing out words that would later be regretted, it was a simple declaration of fact. He was used to being yelled at, or struck, but he’d never been assaulted physically in a way that was as painful as those three words. In that moment, and with the finality of a coffin being nailed shut, Keitaro knew that he’d lost Naru, and that he would never be able to redeem himself to her.
That thought was almost as painful as her declaration…
Without another word, Naru turned and headed up the stairs, followed closely by a babbling Kitsune, who was concerned about her friend. Naru’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions; rage and sadness were struggling for dominance, with feelings of betrayal coming in a strong third. She hardly registered what Kitsune was saying as she made her way to her room, feeling like a passenger in her own body. Naru did know that she’d been truthful when she’d spoken to Keitaro. When she’d realized that Toshio’s accusation was true, after a brief period of stunned inaction, she’d asked herself what she felt, and at that moment, she realized that she hated Keitaro.
She had felt herself getting closer to him with time, accepting all of his idiosyncrasies, only to find out that he hadn’t valued her enough to be true to her. A small section of her mind was asking her why he should have waited for her if she wasn’t actively pursuing him, but she slammed the door on those errant thoughts.
Feeling numb from the eyes down, and her thoughts reeling, Naru was only dimly aware that she had sank down to the floor of her room, and let herself fall into Kitsune’s comforting embrace. Silently, she opened the dam on her tears, the warm liquid leaving a damp spot on her friends shirt.
Back in the living room, Keitaro slumped against the wall, his legs having buckled after Naru had walked out on him, in all senses of the word. Her words echoed in his mind, tormenting him, reminding him of what he’d done and what he’d lost. ‘Who I lost,’ he corrected. ‘She-she’s gone… I’ll… I’ll never be able to be with her, let her know what she means to me…’ He blinked, his eyes stinging with tears that were ready to fall.
He reasoned that he should be angry with Toshio for doing this, but he realized that this was probably similar to what Toshio felt when he’d learned of Tsuruko’s transgression. ‘If he felt half as miserable as I do, I can’t really blame him… Just returning the favor…’
Keitaro was vaguely aware of two people standing over him. He lifted his head a little and saw that Su and Shinobu were looking at him. Su had crouched down and was regarding him with a curious look on her face, while Shinobu also looked to be on the verge of tears.
“Hey Shinobu, what’s the big deal? I slept with Keitaro and Naru that one time, and I sleep with Motoko.”
Su’s innocent question almost made Shinobu laugh. Almost. “It-it’s complicated Su,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “Let’s leave everyone alone, okay? Maybe they’ll feel better later.” ‘But I doubt it,’ Shinobu added silently.
“Okies. Want some bananas Shinobu?”
The blue haired girl forced herself to smile. “Sure.”
“Great! There’s a fresh crop in my room!” Before Shinobu had a chance to object, Su grabbed her by the wrist and bodily pulled her up the stairs, leaving only a dust cloud in her wake.
Now alone in the living room, the wall the only thing keeping him from slumping bonelessly to the floor, Keitaro contemplated the smoking ruin his life had just become. ’No,’ he amended, ‘it was ruined the second I started kissing Tsuruko back. I’ve just been delaying the inevitable…’ Part of him wanted to place the blame elsewhere; Tsuruko, alcohol, the rain, the fact that the residents had upset him to the point of needing to take a walk. But in the end, Keitaro knew, deep in his heart and soul, that he was the architect of his own downfall. ‘It’s my fault. No matter how much I wish it wasn’t, it’s my own fault.’
Keitaro couldn’t bring himself to move from his current location, despite how uncomfortable it was, so he stayed motionless, his tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Although it wasn’t even four in the afternoon, it wasn’t until well after midnight that Keitaro finally rose and walked on numbed legs to his room, only to instantly collapse on his futon, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
XXX
“So why didn’t you tell me what happened?” asked Haruka.
Haruka and Keitaro were both sitting in the Café Hinata; three days had passed since Keitaro’s one night stand with Tsuruko had become common knowledge. Keitaro had gone into self-imposed isolation, actively avoiding all of the residents, who in turn were avoiding him. He spent most of his time in his room, even taking his meals there, and doing maintenance around the residence that would take him into its most remote areas.
His diet now consisted almost exclusively of instant ramen and snack food, supplemented by what leftovers he could take from the refrigerator late at night. Su’s appetite, sometimes resulted in this being slim pickings. Once, when he came back to his room, he had found a tray inside his door, obviously from Shinobu. He was grateful, and extremely touched, but he couldn’t thank the little chef publicly, for fear of alienating her from the others, who were avoiding him like the plague.
“Didn’t know how you’d react,” Keitaro confessed. “I was worried that someone would overhear…”
“So you just kept it a secret, but everyone found out anyway,” finished Haruka, savagely crushing out her cigarette before lighting up another. Haruka’s legendary unflappability was being put to it’s greatest test. When Keitaro had entered the shop this afternoon, she’d had no idea what had been going on in Hinata House, but things hadn’t felt right to her. She’d asked him what was happening, and found herself struck dumb as he’d confessed to his transgression with Tsuruko, and how the truth had come out.
Struck speechless, Haruka digested that information for a couple of moments before she’d been able to think of a response. ‘Keitaro and a married woman, who woulda thought it.’ She shook her head ruefully. ‘You’ve always been a lightening rod for trouble, but this…’ “What did you think I’d do?” Haruka asked her nephew.
“I, I don’t know,” admitted Keitaro. “Maybe tell someone, be angry with me, I just didn’t know…”
Haruka’s eyebrows went up a little. “You honestly thought I’d tell the others?” she asked calmly, but with a hint of disbelief in her voice.
“Yes! I mean no! I mean… I, I, I couldn’t take a chance!” Keitaro babbled.
Haruka swallowed her righteous indignation at the sound of imminent panic in Keitaro. ‘It’s not like he wasn’t under some strain,’ she reasoned. ‘Who knows what he was thinking?’ “You still should have trusted me,” she gently rebuked.
“I know…” Keitaro had his head in his hands, staring morosely at the table top.
After a minutes more contemplation, Haruka asked, “What happens now?”
“I don’t know,” Keitaro replied honestly. “You’re the only person I’ve spoken to since it came out.”
“But that was three days ago,” Haruka pointed out.
“I know. No one’s talked to me since then. And to be honest, I haven’t wanted to talk to anyone either. I mean, what could I say? ‘Hey Naru, I’m sorry I slept with another woman, want to study together?’ or maybe ‘You look good today Motoko, I apologize for ruining your sisters marriage?’” Keitaro asked bitterly. “I screwed up, and now no one wants to deal with me.”
“They can’t all hate you, and you and Naru weren’t actually a couple, were you?”
“Maybe we weren’t,” conceded Keitaro, “but I wanted us to be one. But apparently I didn’t want it enough to wait for her,” he added despondently. “She hates me, and Motoko wants to kill me. The only reason she doesn’t is because Tsuruko asked her not to. But if I ever gave her the slightest excuse…” Keitaro found himself shuddering at that thought.
“What are you going to do?” Haruka asked softly.
“What can I do?” he replied after a minute. “I won’t go home, and I couldn’t leave anyway. I’m the owner and landlord of Hinata House. Grandma was clear on that point.”
Haruka found that she had nothing she could say to that.
“Will they forgive me?” Keitaro murmured softly.
“What was that?” Haruka hadn’t heard what Keitaro had mumbled.
“Will they ever forgive me?”
Haruka pursed her lips. Her eyes took on a distant look as she remembered the love triangle that had existed between Seta, Sarah’s mother, and herself. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe, if they want to. Perhaps, with time, even Naru might forgive you. But I can’t say one way or the other.”
“Didn’t think so…”
“Forgive me for being blunt, but why did you do it?”
“I don’t know, it’s not like I planned it…” At Haruka’s doubting look, Keitaro found himself getting vehement.. “You’re kidding… Do you really think I’d do something that stupid?” he asked incredulously. “With a married woman, no less? Jeez, I know it took me a few times to get into Tokyo University, but I’m not THAT dumb!” Keitaro closed his eyes and counted to ten to calm himself down. “I didn’t want this at all! I just went away to clear my head…”
Haruka regarded her nephew closely for a minute, before she sat back and took a long drag on her cigarette. “You know, from anyone else I’d say they were lying. It never ‘just happens’. But I don’t think you could lie to me to save your life. Although, being drunk didn’t help matters any…” she added.
“That’s no excuse,” Keitaro responded.
“Didn’t say it was,” Haruka pointed out. “But it sure didn’t help.”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah.”
The two Urashimas sat silently, each idly sipping their tea, which had now gone cold. After a few minutes of silence, which while it wasn’t excruciating, wasn’t all that comfortable either, Keitaro spoke again. “Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” Haruka prompted, after a few seconds of silence.
“Maybe because it felt…nice…to be wanted, even if it wasn’t right… Maybe I was lonelier than I thought, or because what Tsuruko said struck a chord.”
“You felt sorry for her?”
“I don’t think ‘sorry’ is the right word,” replied Keitaro. “‘Connection’ maybe, or perhaps ‘understanding’.”
“I don’t think that excuses infidelity,” Haruka deadpanned.
Keitaro gave Haruka a look that screamed ‘no shit!’, but he kept his silence for a moment. “Maybe it was just two lonely people trying to find comfort in the other.”
Haruka bit back the reply that sprang to her lips. There was enough truth in that statement, and she’d had that feeling herself on a few occasions, even if she wasn’t about to admit it. She looked at Keitaro, remembering all that he’d said, and thinking back to her own experiences. ‘Poor kid didn’t have enough emotional experience to have something like this happen.’
‘Then again, would I have done any better?’ Haruka asked herself. She thought about it, and realized that she honestly wasn’t sure.
“You screwed up Keitaro, but I can’t say that you should have known better. Well, yes, you should have,” clarified Haruka, “but you got tangled up in something you weren’t expecting.”
“What does that mean?”
“Take it as you want it. I can’t judge you, only you can do that.”
Keitaro contemplated her words. “Thanks Aunt Haruka…”
Out of consideration for his current emotional turmoil, Haruka didn’t whap him with her harisen for calling her ‘Aunt’. “If you need to talk some more, my door is always open….”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be coming back for a while.”
“Why?”
Keitaro gave a weak smile. “Everyone’s pissed at me, I don’t want you to be guilty by association. Thanks for the tea.” He finished his drink, stood up and walked out, leaving a concerned Haruka alone in her shop.
‘You always did put others happiness ahead of your own, Keitaro,’ Haruka silently mused. She finished her own tea and extinguished her cigarette with a sigh. “Good luck Keitaro,” she told the empty shop. “I think you’re going to need it.”
Outside the shop, Keitaro was slowly walking up the stairs towards Hinata House, mentally planning out his avoidance strategy for the day. ‘The roof needs some work, and since Motoko’s done training, and Shinobu did laundry yesterday, I shouldn’t be disturbed. After that, there’s some pipes in the basement that need replacing That should be enough for today, but what about tomorrow?’ he sighed. ‘Looks like another day in my room, unless something else breaks.’
Keitaro reluctantly continued up the stairs, wondering how long he’d be forced to live like this, and wondering what, if anything, he could do to make things easier for everyone.
It would be some time before the idea would first come to him.
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes: What? You were expecting an epic battle, or Keitaro in intensive care? Sorry to disappoint you…
But in the long run, I think what Toshio did was far more insidious, and was potentially more damaging than simple violence.
Once again, thanks to Random1377 for bitch-slapping any traces of crappy dialogue, clunky writing, and general suck, out of this chapter.