Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Absolution ❯ Chapter 8-9 ( Chapter 3 )

Author's Note: Hey, I just want to thank the people who took the time to read my story and left reviews. It's great to know that people are enjoying my story. By the way, I don't own the characters, stories, or anything else Akamatsu related.

 

Chapter 8: A not so well-received visit

 

She inhaled the smoke and held it in, letting the warm nicotine cloud bathe her lungs with its addictive touch. Her mind wandered in the playground of her memories. Keitaro was only five when he met the promise girl. She remembered how elated he was when he told her of their promise together. Those were good times for Haruka Urishima. She was reliving a moment from her own childhood when she felt a presence that she had hoped would never come back to Hinata Springs.

 

“Greetings, Haruka-san,” spoke a voice from behind. Haruka closed her eyes and slowly released the trapped smoke from her lungs. Her first instinct was to turn around and rip out Motoko's throat. Her second involved something far less tidy. Just then, an image flashed in her mind, Keitaro smiling and rubbing the back of his head. Giving the briefest of smiles, Haruka chuckled to herself, “Idiot, you would forgive her.”

 

Without turning around, she spoke, “if you're looking for absolution, you're plumb out of luck, we ran out of priests a long time ago.” Motoko knew that talking to Haruka would be difficult. No one, save Keitaro, had forgiven her for what she had done, least of all Haruka. She was the only one in the house who had the strength and skill, other than Keitaro, to stop her rampage that day - if she was only there to stop it. That thought kept Haruka up at nights, lingering in her own anguish: “If only I was there, Keitaro, I could have done something.”

 

Motoko closed her eyes, summoning up her strength. “Haruka-san, I know I have wronged you all and I am forever ashamed for what I have done. I only wish to make amends. I wish to thank you for coming to Kyoto. You saved me from myself and I am eternally grateful…,” Motoko was cut off.

 

“I don't want your damn gratitude,” Haruka shouted, turning around to face the former resident, “I didn't do it for you, I did it for Keitaro!” Motoko was un-phased by her words. She stared into Haruka's eyes with the conviction of tempered steel and spoke once more, “…Haruka, I am alive because of Keitaro, not for myself. I know this and accept it without reservation.”

 

Haruka stood there, trying to determine what to say next. She still wanted to vent out her frustration, but seeing Motoko's swollen right eye reminded her that Kanako had felt the same. “So Motoko, what is it you want from me,” asked Haruka.

 

Motoko knelt down and bowed her head to the ground, but before she could speak, Haruka went over to her and kicked her in the ribs. Motoko grimaced in pain, her ribs still sore from Kanako's vice like grip. “I don't want your formal bull shit, just come out and say it,” Haruka spoke with irritation in her voice.

 

Motoko picked herself up, holding onto her sides. Haruka noticed this and grew concerned. She hadn't kicked her that hard, just enough to flop her onto her side. “It must have been Kanako,” Haruka chided herself. Suddenly, Motoko was about to collapse, but Haruka caught her before she fell. Motoko looked to Haruka and whispered, “I am sorry,” before passing out from the pain.

 

“Damn,” Haruka muttered.

 

Chapter 9: A request

 

She awoke to the pain shooting from her sides. Motoko was no stranger to pain and slowly pushed it to the back of her mind. As the hurt subsided, she felt the warm plush feeling of a mattress beneath her body. She slowly opened her eyes and noticed she was lying down on someone's bed in a room she didn't recognize. More amazing was that her clothes were gone save her undergarments.

 

“Your ribs aren't broken, but they're badly bruised,” a voice spoke from the corner. It was Haruka. Motoko suddenly realized that her near nakedness revealed her hidden shame. Her arms reflexively attempted to cover her abdomen. “No need for that,” Haruka added, “I've already seen them.” She then walked over to her with a cup of warm tea and handed it over, which Motoko gladly accepted. “I see that Kanako worked you over some,” pointing to the gouge marks on her back, “but these,” she pointed to the scars, “well, I guess that's why your sister called me over.” Motoko blushed as she remembered the state she was in when Haruka came to her those many months ago, an indicator that some of her warrior pride remained intact.

 

“Get dressed,” Haruka said as she tossed Motoko's clothes to her, “meet me downstairs when you're done.” Then she was gone.

 

Five minutes later, Motoko climbed down the stairs that led to the back of the tea house. There she saw Haruka, sitting in front of a small circular table with a ceramic ash tray resting on top of it. Motoko walked over and sat in the chair opposite of her. She stared at the ashtray, examining its distorted contours. It looked like one of those ugly clay projects that school children were so fond of making. Haruka noticed her interest and said with a low voice, “Keitaro made it when he was ten. It was his birthday gift to me. He was so proud of it to. Personally, I thought it was the ugliest thing in all of creation, but to Keitaro, it was his most prized possession at the time. So I've been using it ever since,” then Haruka did something that shook Motoko to her very core.

 

She chuckled. She had never seen such an outpouring of emotion from the head mistress of the Hinata apartments. She had always been reserve in her expressions, one of the many reasons why Motoko admired her. “When he first became manager, he saw the ashtray and said it was the ugliest thing in the world. I threw my fan at him, telling him it was not. He asked me where I got it from. That dolt, he made the stupid thing and didn't even remember it - that's Keitaro for you,” Haruka explained.

 

Motoko stared at the ashtray, imagining his tiny hands molding the contours into its present shape. “He made this,” she said under her breath. She reached out with a deliberateness that first disturbed Haruka. Motoko's fingertips made contact, and Haruka could see her shiver from the touch. She also noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. “My god,” Haruka thought, “she's more messed up than I thought.”

 

With emphasis, Haruka extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray, snapping Motoko out of her trance. “So what have you come to say,” Haruka asked. Taking a minute to collect herself, Motoko looked into her eyes and stated with an emotionless tone, “I wish to come back to the Hinata apartments and take care of Keitaro.”

 

Haruka was at a loss of words. She felt the urge to throttle the young Aoyama rise up like bile in her throat, but something in her mind told her to listen and think on what the girl was saying. Motoko took her silence as a nod to continue, “I realize that I am not welcome in your house anymore, and that I have no right to ask, but I would like to stay and help him the best I can. I have given up the sword and renounce my claim to the Shinmei School. I seek only to serve the Urishima family, to help Keitaro, and nothing more.”

 

Haruka's fist slammed into the table, sending the ashtray straight up into the air. Motoko's quick reflexes kicked in and caught Keitaro's gift before it could shatter on the table surface.

 

Then there was silence.

 

Motoko slowly placed the ashtray back onto the table with all the delicacy she could muster. Haruka's face was contorted with an anger begging for release. The seconds that had passed seemed like hours to the young girl. A single bead of sweat ran silently down the side of her cheek, but for Haruka, it sounded like a nail dragging along a chalk board. She then leapt from her chair, over the table, and placed a well-aimed strike to her throat, crushing her larynx. Motoko was on the floor, clawing at her throat instinctively, trying to get air into her lungs. Haruka knelt down and started slamming her fists into Motoko's face - bones shattering.

 

“Haruka?”

 

“What,” Haruka yelled! When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see Sakura cowering in the corner, pleading, “please don't kill me,” over and over again. “Damn it, I zoned out again, I swear it's a damn family curse,” Haruka thought as she made her way to the frighten employee. “There, there, I'm sorry for the outburst there, you just caught me by surprise, that's all,” Haruka said in the gentlest tone she could manage. Sakura looked up with utter disbelief in her eyes, she had never heard of her boss apologizing before, ever! “Yeah, yeah, I said I'm sorry, don't think it's gonna be a habit, so what is it Sakura,” Haruka hissed. “We're out of the Oolong,” Sakura spoke as she slowly backed out of the room, hoping that the lioness would not pounce and dismember her.

 

“I'll take care of it,” said Haruka. She then turned to Motoko and spoke quietly, “leave Motoko, I don't want you here.” Without looking back, Haruka left the room, leaving a broken Motoko behind.

 

Motoko's mind could barely maintain control. Her emotional scuffle with Kanako and Haruka had taken its toll. She laid her head on the table and silently wept out the raw emotions convulsing through her body.

 

Her cries were interrupted by a familiar voice.

 

“It's time to come home Motoko.”

 

Motoko lifted her head and saw a figure walking out of the shadows. “Tsuroko,” Motoko asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“Yes, my dear sister, I have come to take you home,” the wraith-like figure responded.