Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Immortal Flame ❯ Chapter 1: Deep Sleep ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1: Deep Sleep

 

The day had been yet another similar occurrence to those of Hinata. The sun shone above the town, the villagers going about their business. The Hinata Inn's manager, Keitaro Urashima, flying through the air a regular sight. Everything was as it should have been.

 

Raking a hand through his hair, Keitaro began to trudge back to the inn, seeing as how he would now have to patch up the hole in the roof he'd made on exiting the building. Having somehow earning the ability to sustain such punishment with little more than a scratch was a question that even he wished he knew the answer to, but had decided that it was best not to wrap his head around such things. Su had offered him the explanation of how she thought he might be able to do it, but there were so many words that even his college level dictionary didn't include. And that was after he asked her to simplify the explanation.

 

He thought back to earlier that morning, wondering why he had been sent into a low orbit of the town. The rush of fear and the sudden impact of Naru's fist on his face suddenly came back to him. He smiled slightly, “and thus I come back to the reason I'm walking back to Hinata Inn.”

 

Reflecting back, he remembered the situation that had brought him to this part of town. Again, his clumsy nature had put him in an awkward place at a very inconvenient time. The place had been Naru's room, and the time was when she happened to be changing. Now it wasn't the first time that the same incident had happened, but it was becoming tiresome. Though he and Naru had become a couple, he still had yet to be given an apology for such an action. Though in the back of his mind, he thought of this in a different light. Perhaps this was his version of the Herculean trials, or perhaps a test to see if his patience would hold. He chuckled slightly, “Whichever way it is, I'll stand my ground.”

 

Up above, the clouds had begun to build off to the east, threatening rain. Keitaro felt the urge to get back before the rain started. The clouds flickered and distant roars of thunder began to cut the silent air of the town, hailing the coming of the rain. Keitaro, despite his best efforts, knew that he wasn't going to make it home before the rains started, for only a moment later the rain began to fall. Stopping to look up at the clouded sky, Keitaro stood there letting the rain fall down up on him. The rational part of him told him to seek out shelter and call and report his delay, while the other side of him told him to keep going and to enjoy the fresh rain. The cool rain drops begun to bring down the heat that had built up in the tow, and began to quickly fill gutters. After a few short moments, Keitaro began to continue his return to the inn. Not caring now if he was wet or not, he returned to his normal pace, slowly but surely making his way home. He knew he might catch a cold, but he didn't' care much at the moment. Turning corners and walking down alleyways to cut the time it took, he expertly maneuvered his way through Hinata. Along the way, a young woman ha apparently mistook his soggy self for self-loathing and handed him an umbrella she had just bought. Though he thanked her, he insisted that he didn't need it. The woman had though otherwise and practically shoved it into his hands, then disappeared. Shaking his head, he opened the umbrella and continued on his way.

 

Turning down another alleyway, he saw a sight that he would rather not have. At the end of the alley was a group of thugs that had become a nuisance around town. And once they'd come here, they'd quickly earned themselves more recruits into their ranks. Though there were only four of them, Keitaro knew that he'd fallen into some kind of trap, as the presence of two more thugs made themselves known behind him. Roughly they shoved Keitaro down the alleyway, getting the attention of the thugs friends at the other end. Cornered and practically defenseless, Keitaro backed up against the nearest wall. Having effectively cut off his escape route, Keitaro knew that he would have to give them what they wanted.

 

The largest of the bunch stepped forward, producing a large bat from the folds of his long coat, “Hello there, kid. Nice day isn't it?”

 

Keitaro had no want to drag this out any longer than he had to, “If you want my money you can have it, but I don't have much. It's barely even enough for train fare.”

 

The brute in front of him chuckled, “Boy, you get straight to the point, don't ya, Poindexter?”

 

The man stepped forward and slung the bat over his shoulder with one hand, “Not much for train fare, huh? Well, since you're getting to the point, I guess I should tell you that we're not particularly interested in money today.”

 

Keitaro felt his stomach knot in his torso, “Whatever you want, just take it.”

 

The brute turned back to one of the other gang members, obviously the leader. He nodded, which signaled the beginning of Keitaro's mugging. After receiving the node, the brute turned back and brought the bat straight into Keitaro's side hard. Falling to his hands and knees, Keitaro had heard the audible snap of bone inside his chest. The next thing he felt was a boot connecting to his ribcage, aggravating his broken rib. Stars dazzled in his vision as he fell to the ground, at a loss for the ability to draw a full breath. Subconsciously, Keitaro knew he'd punctured a lung, but his conscious mind was reeling from the pain. Somehow, he felt his pockets being searched through and heard muffled voices through his groggy state. The next thing he truly knew was his head being jerked back as the leader leaned down to speak in his ear. His voice was raspy and deep, making Keitaro's head reverberate from the noise. Holding onto a tiny slip of paper, Keitaro knew at once what he held.

 

“Keitaro Urashima. Tokyo U student and manager of a girl's dormitory,” came the raspy voice of the leader. Keitaro shivered as he leaned in closer to inspect his face, “So you're a manger for a girl's dorm?”

 

Keitaro felt the man chuckle. In a ragged and pained voice, Keitaro pleaded, “P-please. Leave t-them out o-of this.”

 

“Afraid for your girls, huh?” The raspy voice said, more of in a statement than a question. Then a laugh came from his lips, “Well I guess those ladies will need some comfort once they learn your dead. But don't worry, we'll be there.”

 

Keitaro felt fear and anger well up in his chest. The girls were going to be “taken care of” by these creeps. Keitaro no longer cared about his physical state. Using everything he had, he reached out and grabbed the leader around the throat and slowly stood up, despite the other thugs' pounding on him with fists, hands and weapons. He barely registered that he'd been stabbed, but he didn't care. He was well beyond the pain. He slammed the thug into the wall and held him above the ground until the thug fell silent and hardly could breath. Throwing him aside, Keitaro turned to the thug with the bat. Rushing him, the thug swung the bat at Keitaro. He dodged, but was not fast enough as the bat struck and broke his left collar bone. Pain shot through him, fueling his anger more. Grabbing the bat, he found his strength to be inhuman as he wrenched it free from of the thug and, in payment of his injuries, brought the bat down on his head. Keitaro was rewarded with not only the crack of the bat against the thug's skull, but also the bat breaking from the force of the blow. The thug fell limply to the ground as Keitaro threw the broken wood aside and glared at the other thugs. They looked between themselves and their buddies and decided that cowardice was the better part of valor. Breaking into a run, they escaped Keitaro before he could pursue. However, he only wanted the leader right then.

 

Turning to finish the leader, Keitaro heard rather than felt the report of a gun. Looking full at the thug, he saw the large handgun in his hand, shakily moving from the thugs' quick asphyxia. Looking down, Keitaro saw the bullet hole in his chest, blood flowing from the wound. Falling to his knees, Keitaro brought his good hand up to cover the wound. He heard the clatter of the gun on the cement as the thug dropped it and escaped. Though he didn't care anymore about the thug. He'd proven his point, but now he was going to die. The girls were not completely without defenses, but they would never know about what Keitaro did for them in their name. Falling face forward on the ground, he began to see his vision darken and sounds became muffled. Keitaro felt a twinge of fear, “So this is what it's like to die.”

 

Soon the only thing he could her was the sound of his pulse in his ear. It was slowly beginning to ebb, just as his life was.

 

“Keitaro.”

 

Keitaro strained to hear the voice, but it was still muffled. Stepping into his vision was the silhouette of a man no larger than himself. A dark coat covered him from head to toe. The face was familiar to him, but yet strange in the same instance. Leaning down, the man looked Keitaro in the eyes, “Keitaro.”

 

A gasp formed from his mouth, acknowledging the man, “W-who are you?”

 

“That is not important.” The man said casually. Reaching out, he placed one hand on Keitaro's wound, “Do you wish to live?”

 

Keitaro opened hi mouth, struggling to form the words. When they finally came out it was a rasped, breathy voice, “Y-yes.”

 

“Very well,” was all the man said before Keitaro succumbed to the darkness.

 

 

Naru rushed through the hospital doors, almost knocking a nurse down on her way. Sending a quick apology over her shoulder, she continued to race to her destination. She had been trying to study when she had received the news. In a heart beat she had been up and out the door with the others fast on her heels.

 

“Naru, slow down!” Motoko had cried out to the panicked girl, but it had no effect. It seemed it had the opposite effect as Naru saw the nurse's station, she picked up more speed. Skidding to a halt, Naru quickly spoke, “Where is Keitaro?”

 

The nurse, a middle aged woman with hair beginning to grey, looked questioningly at the young lady, “Who miss?”

 

“Keitaro Urashima,” Motoko asked, coming up from behind Naru. She laid a calming hand on Naru's shoulder, “We're friends of his.”

 

Hearing the name, the nurse began looking up the name in the computer. The seconds dragged on like hours, but finally the lady spoke, “He's in the ICU. Room 409.”

 

Motoko offered thanks, and held on to Naru as they began to walk to the ICU wing. Naru felt Motoko's grip tighten as she began to speed up, forcing her to slow back down. Naru looked over at her friend and fellow tenant, “Let me go, please.”

 

Motoko shook her head slightly, “Rushing and panicking are not going to help Keitaro. You need to be calm.”

 

Naru looked away, the tears in her eyes threatening to come forth again. She bowed her head in defeat as Motoko walked her to the intensive care unit. The hallways of white held the lingering smell of antiseptic and the hum of the fluorescent lighting. The activities of the staff were the only things to break up the monotony of the halls. Finally, the intensive care wing came into view and Motoko could no longer hold Naru back. Freeing herself of Motoko's protective grasp, she fell into a dead run. The doors burst open, flooding her senses with the blinding white of the hallways and an even heavier smell of antiseptic. Rushing down the halls, Naru began searching for the right room. Door after door, room after room she searched, despair beginning to creep back into her. Seconds dragged on, turning into minutes as she searched. She felt her heart jumping up into her throat, beginning to lose hope. Then when she had almost given up hope, Keitaro's room appeared before her. Stealing herself, she slowly opened the door, beginning to hear the sounds of electrical beeping and humming. Gently, she pushed forward into the room, fear welling up in her. Suddenly she stopped, Keitaro not yet in view, as fear overwhelmed her, “What if he's not expected to live? Could I look at him knowing that he's going to die?”

 

“Miss, are you a relative of Mr. Urashima's?” came a gentle voice from behind Naru, scaring her out of her trance. Turning, she came face to face with an elderly gentleman, his features bearing the look of general concern. His eyes shone with care and compassion and his face generated a warm feeling, easing Naru's growing fear, if even slightly. Naru shook her head, “No, I'm a friend.”

 

The doctor nodded his head, “You're the first to be here. I've tried reaching his parents, but they haven't responded.” His voice was soft, yet commanded respect. Casually, he walked around the corner, looking at the young man lying in the hospital bed. A small tear fell from his eyes, “This is probably the worst I've ever had to deal with in my years here.”

 

Naru felt the fear grip her again, but she urged herself to continue. Slowly she stepped forward, allowing herself to look around the corner. Inch after inch of Keitaro was slowly revealed to her until he had come into full sight. His head was wrapped in white bandages, a small red stain having appeared on one side. His left arm was in a cast, immobilizing it form the elbow down, and from what she could see, his torso was wrapped in bandages. Naru suddenly felt the urge to rush ot his side, forgetting all about her fear. Gripping his hand, she looked at his sleeping form, looking at the tubes and machiens hooked up to him. Finally the tears broke free as she began to cry, resting her head on Keitaro's limp arm.

 

The doctor had seen all he could take and felt the need to leave the young couple to themselves. Stepping out the door, he was met with yet another young woman looking into the room. Her raven black hair pulled behind her head, showing off her well toned shoulders. The look of deep regret was etched upon her face, “Doctor. How is Urashima?”

 

The doctor looked back towards the door, “When he arrived, I will honestly say that I had not expected him to live. His injuries are extensive. Severe head trauma, along with multiple broke bones, the least of which is a broken arm.”

 

Motoko swallowed hard, “And the other injuries?”

 

The elderly doctor bowed his head, “He has a punctured lung that we were able to at least repair. On top of that he has a broken collar bone and several deep lacerations and cuts. Bruising is apparent all over his body. But none of those were the most serious injury that he received.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When he arrived…,” the doctor began, but stopped to look over at the door, checking to see if the other girl was listening. Satisfied that she wasn't, he looked back to the serious youth in front of him, “The young lady shouldn't know about this, but that's your decision.” Steadying himself, the doctor lowered his voice slightly, “The most severe injury he received was a gunshot wound to the chest. It just barely missed hitting the heart.”

 

Motoko's eyes went wide, “A gunshot? But how did that happen?”

 

“I'm not sure,” the doctor said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Looking again back to the room, he sighed, “But from what physical evidence there is, it appears he may have been mugged. We were lucky that he had a Tokyo University I.D. badge on him.”

 

Motoko felt fear well up inside her, “Doctor, is he…”

 

The doctor shook his head, “As far as I know he should be fine. Though for all that he's suffered through in the last twenty-four hours, by all reasoning he should be dead.”

 

A weight felt like it had lifted off of Motoko's shoulders, “Then he's just sleeping in there.”

 

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, “Unfortunately, he's not just sleeping.”

 

The question was etched on Motoko's face long before she even spoke, “He's in a coma. He's been in that state ever since the operation.”

 

“A coma,” Motoko reiterated, still not believing what was being said to her. She shook her head slowly, “When will he wake up?”

 

“That, miss,” he began, holding back his own emotions, “Is the only thing that I don't know.”

 

Motoko looked back to the door, from behind which she could hear the sobbing of Naru, “Will he ever wake up?”

 

The doctor put his hands in his pockets, looking away from the young woman, “There is a possibility that he will.”

 

Motoko felt the underlying statement, but needed to hear it, “What's the chances that he will?”

 

The doctor felt sorrow well up in him, “Slim, at best.”

 

“Thank you.” Motoko said, as she walked through the door. Slowly, she moved forward until she saw Naru cradling Keitaro's hand in hers. Her face was streaked from the fresh tears that she'd shed. Motoko felt the sorrow well up inside herself as she looked at her friend. Naru's voice came softly and cracked from crying, “How is he?”

 

Motoko bit her lip, not wanting to tell her friend. She searched for an answer, any answer to say to Keitaro's love, but kept returning to the only thing she could think of.

 

“He'll be fine. He just needs to rest for awhile.”

 

End of Chapter 1