Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Absolution ❯ Chapter 6-7 ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 6: Three years ago

 

The Hinata Tea shop was doing good business, much to Haruka's amazement. When she first took over the shop, her only aim was to break even. Anything more would distract her from living the simple life she had longed for. She intended to live her life on her terms and not for the sake of profit.

 

Still, she made a great cup of tea and had a large selection of exotic brews that drew a loyal base of customers. Her business had grown; a fact that sometimes annoyed the not-so-young woman, because it meant hiring on extra staff. Yes, life had grown a bit complicated for Haruka.

 

Spying her employee across the counter, Haruka yelled, “Goddamn it, Sakura, how many times do I have to tell you, wipe down the tables when the customer leaves! Do you think the next won't care about sitting at a dirty table?” Sakura turned around, her small frame visibly shaken by the rebuke, and replied with a mousy voice, “Sorry Haruka, I'll get right on it.”

 

Haruka turned her face away from the young college student, not wanting her to see the furrow in her brow. Haruka knew her outburst was uncalled for, but she would never openly admit to her own failing. Calming herself down, she returned her gaze on the young girl who was already cleaning the table. With a sigh, she walked to Sakura and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “you doing good work kid - don't sweat it. Watch the store for a minute; I'm taking a smoke break.” Sakura nodded her head in reply.

 

The January morning was brisk in Hinata Springs, but Haruka never minded the cold - it suited her personality. She lit her cigarette, thinking of her nephew who was still in a coma in the Hinata apartments. After six months in the hospital, the doctors informed her that there was nothing more that they could do. He had been taken off life support, and only needed minimal equipment to feed him intravenously. His parents wanted him home, but Granny Hina had intervened. They needed all their love and attention directed toward Kanako, their adopted daughter. Kanako had become unhinged when she found out about her beloved brother's condition. She had gone to him, intending on caring for her brother, but when see saw Keitaro lying in bed broken, she was consumed by vengeance. She made a vow to kill the one responsible for her brother's fate - she had vowed to kill Motoko Aoyama.

 

It was Haruka and Granny Hina that intercepted her before she could enter the Shinmei School's property. Kanako had already devastated a contingent of Shinmei swordsmen sent to stop her from entering the grounds. The sight of the battle scene could be best described as carnage unleashed. Though no one had died, none of the Shinmei left that battle intact. Limbs were lost, bones were broken, and much blood had been split. Motoko saw the battle from her room. She sat there dispassionately at first, not knowing what she was seeing. She then heard yelling from the hallway, something about an Urishima seeking revenge. For a moment, joy seeped into the young Aoyama's heart. Death was coming for her so she hoped.

It was Haruka who delivered the near lethal blow that ended Kanako's rampage. The two had met at the gateway, marking the entrance to the grounds. Kanako yelled out three simple words to her aunt: “Move or die!”

 

It was Granny Hina who spoke out to her, “My child, I know that you are hurt, but do you not realize the terrible pain you will inflict upon Keitaro when he wakes up and finds his friend and aunt dead by the hands of his own sister.”

 

Kanako's killing aura, raging like a terrible furnace, subsided for a few seconds, mulling over the wisdom of granny's words. Suddenly, the furnace rekindled and her fury grew in greater intensity from before. “He's never waking up and the bitch responsible is in there! She's dead,” she screamed with a terror that had struck Haruka to her core. She blinked and in that moment, Kanako had disappeared.

 

“My God,” she barely uttered before blocking the fierce round house kick to her head. Kanako, driven by her rage, had surpassed her previous fighting ability, finding new strength in her pain. Haruka's arm felt like it was about to fracture and crumble, but she had to fight the pain and end this quickly or lives would be lost.

 

Kanako, consumed by her rage, had intended on killing Haruka for getting in her way. She followed the round house kick with a sweep kick that momentarily unbalanced her aunt. It was at this moment, she made ready a vicious tiger claw to her throat when an image popped into her head. It was Keitaro, but not the gentle man who always had a smile for her. Keitaro was frowning, frowning at her. Haruka, not knowing why Kanako had paused, didn't sit around to find out. She leapt over her, striking her at the base of the neck with enough force to stun, but not to kill. As Haruka landed, Kanako crumbled to the ground, her last thought being of her brother and his frown.

 

That was a year and a half ago. Kanako had moved back in with her parents. She wanted to be with her brother, but she was too ashamed of what she had done to do so. She forced herself to visit him once a month, staying in his room for a night, and leave the next morning, all the while, praying that her brother would forgive her for what she had done. In all this time, Kanako never spoke to Haruka. They would on occasion run in to each other, but only shared a head nod to one another, which was why it surprised Haruka to receive a phone call from her this morning.

 

“Hello Aunt Haruka,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Hello, Kanako,” Haruka replied, “it's been awhile.” There was no reply, only silence.

 

After an uncomfortable minute, Haruka was about to speak, when Kanako spoke out, “that bitch came to see me today.”

 

Haruka was shocked to say the least. She knew immediately who Kanako was talking about, but why had Motoko visited her of all people? Was she trying to fulfill a death wish? “Please, tell me everything Kanako,” Haruka asked.

 

Chapter 7: A peace offering

 

Kanako was working the counter in the family constabulary this morning. She had always hated sweets, even the smell offended her, but she wanted to help out her parents out - a way of atoning for her brother. Today, started out like any other day. Customers came and went, buying sweets or just having a chat with the mysterious girl with the strange single cow lick. She was reticent at first, but after working in the store for over a year, Kanako had changed. A once forlorn and withdrawn figure, she had slowly begun to open up. She no longer wore her customary black gothic attire, but found herself wearing clothes her brother seemed fond of on girls. Today, she decided on an ordinary white blouse with a navy blue woolen skirt.

 

She also adopted a more pleasant demeanor, engaging her customers with a smile and a kind word every now and again. She even told a customer that she was particularly fond of, a grandfather who had lost his son in a tragic car accident, her dream of one day running the family inn with her older brother. She still carried the guilt inside, but life was starting to progress for Kanako Urishima, then as if everything screeched to a grinding halt, she walked in.

 

A tall young girl with long flowing raven black hair had entered the store. She was wearing a large winter coat, jeans, and a red sweater. Kanako was still arranging some of the sweet rice buns in the display case when she noticed someone walking to the counter. She could see jeans, but it wasn't until she rose up from her kneeling position did she see her face. In an instant, Kanako launched over the counter, barreling towards the girl. It was the face that haunted her nightmares, the one responsibility for it all - the face of Motoko Aoyama.

 

“How dare you come here bitch,” Kanako growled with her hands around the young girl's neck. Motoko made no attempt to defend herself - offered no resistance. She simply stared into Kanako's eyes with a deep and unyielding gaze. Enraged over the girl's behavior, Kanako released one hand and slapped her with all her might.

 

Motoko let out a small grunt, but returned her gaze back into Kanako's eyes, the right side of her face was a deep red, and blood began to trickle from her mouth. No other words were spoken between the two, only Kanako's iron grip tightening around her throat.

 

Motoko's eyes glazed over. The life choked out of her. She lay there dead with Kanako on top of her. This was the image playing in Kanako's mind over and over again. It was a scene she had fantasized countless of times. The feel of Motoko's life draining from her body was almost orgasmic for the young Urishima. It was the feel of something caressing against her cheek that broke her from her trance.

 

It was Motoko. She was wiping away a tear that was sliding down her face. It was the same tear running down Motoko's face, a tear shed for the pain of losing someone they both loved. For a moment, Kanako looked into Motoko's eyes and saw within them the same emotions tormenting her: shame, sorrow, regret, and a longing for an end to this wretched life without Keitaro.

 

Her grip loosened, causing Motoko to instinctively gasp for air. She would accept death today, if it was Kanako's decision, but she had a mission to keep and the first step was to make amends with his sister.

 

Motoko, her voice hoarse from the attempted strangulation, spoke, “I have come here to ask for your permission on something of grave importance.”

 

Kanako did not respond at first. She was still sitting on top of Motoko, her hands were on the ground, supporting her weight. Her head was hovering above Motoko's, her hair obstructing the view of her face. Motoko said nothing more. She would wait until Kanako was ready to hear more. It was then she felt the tears splatter against her cheeks. Motoko opened her eyes just in time to see Kanako's body dropping on top of her. Motoko embraced her, cradling her on instinct. She felt Kanako's mouth chomping down on her exposed shoulder. Motoko clenched her teeth shut, trying to fight back the scream from the pain. She could tell by the force of the bite that Kanako had broken skin, but she didn't care. She deserved the pain. Motoko tighten her embrace, letting the young Urishima pour out her suffering. She then heard Kanako's muffled scream.

 

They lay there on the floor for several minutes with Kanako releasing the years of torment and anguish that she had been bottling up inside onto Motoko's unyielding body. By the time Kanako was able to stand, Motoko had endured physical pain that even the most harden of soldiers would not be able to endure.

 

Her right shoulder was swollen around the bite mark, blood soaking into her sweater. Her neck still bore the finger marks from Kanako's death grip. Her ribs were bruised from Kanako's embrace, and her back was littered with gouge marks.

 

There was blood on the floor. Motoko saw this and tried cleaning it up with her coat sleeve. Kanako stood and watched Motoko, the blood still dripping from her mouth. She then walked to the door, locked it, and turned the open sign around. Kanako walked back to where Motoko was, stood her up, and slapped one more time, but with less force than before. Motoko made no sign of disapproval. She simply took the blow with a casualness that angered Kanako.

 

Without a word, Kanako took her hand and guided her to the back of the store where the restroom was. She led her to the toilet where she forced Motoko to sit. She left the room for a minute and returned with a first aid kit and a rag.

 

“Take off your sweater,” Kanako ordered in an emotionless voice. Motoko complied. She struggled to pull of her sweater, but she couldn't raise her right arm from the bite. Irritated beyond control, Kanako pulled out her pocket knife, grabbed the front of Motoko's sweater, and with a violent stroke, cut through the cloth straight down. Again, no emotional response from the former samurai girl, she simple took off the sweater as she would a jacket, thanks to Kanako's improvisation.

 

Kanako gasped at the near naked body of Motoko Aoyama. On her stomach were four lateral scars. From the look of things, they weren't recent cuts, but raised skin indicated that it had only just healed completely. Her forearms were worst. There were dozens of slashes made on them, some were long and drawn out, while others were short, but deep. She could tell a few were claw marks.

 

She had heard that Motoko attempted to take her life, but this was different. She didn't just see an attempt to extinguish life, but a self-loathing that demanded pain - a feeling she was all too familiar with. For a moment, Kanako allowed herself to feel pity for the girl sitting on the toilet beneath her. She understood Motoko's pain, her guilt.

 

Kanako took the rag in hand, soaked it under the tap, and gently wiped the blood off of Motoko's face and shoulder. She knew it stung, but Motoko made no attempt to grimace from the pain. She simply endured. Once the blood had been cleaned off of her body, Kanako took a piece of cotton and drenched it in alcohol. She then proceeded to disinfect the wounds - again with no response from Motoko. After bandaging her up, Kanako led her to the storage closet where she had stored her old wardrobe. She handed her an outfit and told her to get changed, while she cleaned up. Kanako returned to the bathroom and washed her face to clean off the blood and tears. She looked into the mirror, and spoke, “What am I suppose to do now dear brother?”

 

There was no response. Sighing, Kanako left the bathroom and found Motoko dressed in a black dress with a white vest on. Saying nothing, Kanako walked towards the back of the store and stopped in front of a stool and took a seat. Motoko soon followed.

 

“What do you want,” Kanako asked.

 

Motoko knelt to the ground and bowed until her forehead was touching the ground - a symbol of complete resignation to another. She spoke in this position, “I have come to ask for your permission to serve your brother. I do not seek forgiveness for I know I will not receive it nor do I not deserve it, but I wish to make amends for my actions. I have abandon the way of the sword and stepped down as heir to the Shinmei School. I only wish to serve your family in any capacity you see fit. I offer my life and service.”

 

Kanako wanted to take the stool that she was sitting on and use it to club her to death. She wanted Motoko to suffer and die in the most excruciating and dishonorable manner possible. She wanted to deny Motoko contrition. She wanted to tell Motoko to go fuck herself, but she would not act on her desires.

 

She would honor her brother - her means of atonement.

 

With a strained voice, she spoke, “Answer me this one question. Why did you hurt my brother all those times? He was so gentle and caring. He was so kind and wonderful, always giving it his all to help the people he cared about,” she was shouting at this point, “he would do anything for you, and he'd give his own life for you Motoko Aoyama, so why did you hurt him?”

 

Motoko's head never left the floor. She sat there; eyes clenched shut, trying to keep the tears from flowing. She had no answer for her, nothing that could be deemed an adequate response.

 

“Well, answer me,” Kanako demanded, rising to her feet.

 

“I never wanted to harm Keitaro,” Motoko replied, struggling to keep her voice from breaking apart, “I just was not strong enough to admit my feelings for him. I attacked him out of my own weakness.”

 

Kanako was too emotionally exhausted to yell back at the prostrate girl before her. It was a terrible explanation, but what other explanation could there have been to justify his abuse?

 

They sat there in silence for ten minutes, Motoko still bowing on the floor. Kanako fought back the tears, sniffling, “I will never forgive you, but my brother would. So go and do what you have to, you will get no resistance from me.” Kanako with almost inhuman speed, grabbed Motoko by the collar, lifted her off the ground and slammed her against the wall, continued, “…but if you hurt him again, I will come for you. I will make you suffer before you die. I will violate you in every conceivable manner, make you experience every form of pain, I will break you. Do you understand me?”

 

Motoko made no reply save a single nod of her head, her eyes betraying no emotions.

 

“Good, now get the hell out. I never want to see you again.”

 

Motoko left without uttering another word.

 

Kanako wanted nothing more to sleep, but she had one last chore to perform. She went to the phone and dialed a number that she hoped was still in service. A young girl picked up, “Mushi, Mushi, this is the Hinata Tea House, how can I help you?”

 

Kanako replied, “I need to speak to Haruka.”