Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ K2: A View to a Truth ❯ Chapter 7

The walls were immaculate white, something very unnatural to the human world… but since this was heaven, brilliant white walls were a norm. Gods never liked anything to be unblemished, and found it really odd for humans to find themselves at disbelieved if anything around them were shiny and clean, without, of course, the smell of disinfectants and cleaning utilities found in a hospital.

 

Inside a small box of four walls, a silver table was laid. One side of its wide length was a pitiful technician god who sweated under the gaze of both Seraph and another goddess who were on the other side. On the table were small papers with holy writing in its surface.

 

“We know you were using the Yggdrasil on three separate occasions,” the goddess stated. “The first time was to illegally switch meeting points between two goddesses. The second was erecting a strong magical barrier around a Dead Zone. The third, you were illegally transferring mana to a certain location.”

 

The god looked pale, but didn't comment. He just looked back towards the two opposing figures silently.

 

“You're digging yourself a grave just by not helping, my dear friend,” the Seraph stated calmly. “You don't need to take the brunt of punishment for the wayward goddess. Just tell us her location, and be spared from unjustified judgment.”

 

He still stayed silent, though he lowered his head. He was unable to face them.

 

“You know you're fate if you refuse to cooperate, don't you?” the goddess stated. “Miyabi has already disconnected herself from the Yggdrasil system, and if she isn't brought to Justice, you will have to take Judgment.”

 

“I… I don't know where she is…” he finally spoke.

 

“You're lying,” the Seraph stated at once.

 

The pitiful god didn't speak anymore, getting a rise out of the goddess. She was about to do something, probably unruly, when the door suddenly opened, revealing a messenger angel.

 

“What is it!?” the goddess demanded. “There's an interrogation going on!”

 

“I'm sorry, mistress, but there is a message of importance for the Seraph concerning the case,” the messenger angel replied. He walked towards the Seraph, and gave him a letter.

 

The goddess watched as the Seraph took great interest in reading the message, and after he folded it, crumpled it, and tore it to pieces. He called towards the goddess, and both walked out of the door, followed by the messenger angel. They left the technician behind to sweat.

 

There was a moment of silence as the goddess followed the Seraph towards one side of the interrogation room wall, where a one-way view-wall was installed. Unlike one way mirrors, the view wall was perfectly blended in the walls, and not shown as just a huge mirror (like those found in human interrogation rooms).

 

“Seraph… why are we pausing the interrogation?” the goddess asked.

 

“A dear friend of mine is has come to visit.”

 

The goddess was about to ask who when they entered the smaller room which had the one-way view-wall. It was a witness room, usually for other investigators to study the perpetrators as they were being questioned, and hopefully, give insight on how to crack them. And inside… was Demon Eyes Laharl. He had a folder under his arms, and beside him was a nervous looking Nitasha.

 

“You!” the goddess suddenly glowed, before the Seraph's hand came to stop her. “Seraph!”

 

He ignored her.

 

“Ah… my friend. It's been a while,” the Seraph stated, and walked towards Laharl. They both gave each other a warm hug. “Which one of you is present? The interesting ninja… or the oddball?”

 

“You are calling me an oddball?” Laharl laughed.

 

“But you are my friend.”

 

The goddess looked shocked as the Seraph and the demon hybrid were exchanging pleasantries. She was approached by Nitasha, who looked very apologetic.

 

“I'm sorry, but… he insisted in going here…” she stated nervously.

 

“I must protest… this is most unwise!” the goddess stated. “A demon cannot be here in the Holy Grounds!”

 

“Not entirely accurate, my dear,” the Seraph responded. “According to Demon-God relations under rule 55, Section A, it says both can visit in the opposite's grounds as long as the intent is not harm and on related business. And my friend is here for the latter, concerning about that god in that room,” and he looked at Laharl, “aren't you?”

 

“And what would a demon hybrid be interested in a business strictly for the gods?” the goddess asked with a slight glare.

 

“Don't bullshit me,” Laharl replied, making her gasp in shock. “This isn't strictly your business. Miyabi is my business, and where she ran to is part of my interest in this god as well.”

 

He then pointed towards Nitasha, who looked a bit taken back by her inclusion.

 

“Nitasha is also interested in Miyabi because that goddess took her job, and since she has taken interest in the K2 agent whose soul has been jacked, it would also be her business,” Laharl finished.

 

“I'm not interested in the K2 agent!” Nitasha declared with a slight glare towards the hybrid, who just ignored her.

 

“Well… since you're here my friend,” the Seraph continued, “I am assuming you are going to be using your Demon Eyes to extract information…”

 

“NO! Absolutely not!” the goddess cut the Seraph off at once. “This hybrid is not worthy of our trust to delve in a mind of an Yggdrasil Technician! This is unheard off!”

 

“My dear, Laharl is someone to trust…” and he was cut off by a slight touch in his shoulder.

 

“No, I agree with her,” Laharl stated, patting the Seraph's shoulder. “Too much risk for something like that. No… I got a ploy… a ploy which is quite risky, but if you hear me out, quite rewarding as well.”

 

“Let us hear it then,” the Seraph stated.

 

“From what I've heard, he was the cause of almost everything,” Laharl stated. “The switch, the erection of the wall… By the way his ears twitch at the mention of Miyabi's name I'm guessing he's probably got it bad enough to not talk. And his last illegal usage of the Yggdrasil was a bit funny.”

 

“What do you mean funny?” Nitasha asked.

 

“According to log files which I got from Hild…” Laharl then opened the envelope, and showed them a folder containing Yggdrasil logs. The goddess looked at them with surprise.

 

“Hild!? Why would a…”

 

“Quiet,” the Seraph warned the goddess. He looked towards Laharl, and urged him to continue.

 

“Anyways, his last use of the Ygg was magically charging an item with large concentrated quantities of mana,” Laharl continued. “Well… I've had a contact with someone of the O-Faction, and you know how good they are with information. The item that was illegally charged was a simple Japanese fan with a two sword design, which Miyabi bought.”

 

Laharl produced another file which was written in the Japanese language. It showed the file reports of a store name, pictures of Miyabi, and the item in question, and logs of time, and dates.

 

“Now… we can't find her because she cut herself off from the Yggdrasil after the stint of agent K2's soul being jacked somewhere,” Laharl continued. “Being cut off allows gods to operate secretly… like your Non-Official Cover intelligence agents who cut themselves out of the system so they won't be traced. The downside though, is they cannot access programs they normally could on the Ygg. And we both know how Heaven or Hell provides aid to these agents with that disadvantage.”

 

“We send messages on where we'll send concentrated mana on items, which they will acquire, and use the items to by-pass program usage,” the goddess finished. “Kami-sama… we missed that aspect completely!”

 

“You should have seen it… but whatever,” Laharl stated. “Point is… Miyabi is using that operating procedure to use Yggdrasil Programs. Hild was very helpful here…”

 

Laharl showed them another file, this time written in demonic language, which the Seraph and goddess understood, though Nitasha looked confused. The hybrid explained.

 

“It says here that someone used a large amount of mana to do an inter-dimensional warp,” Laharl stated. “I'm willing to bet my right arm it was Miyabi.”

 

Seraph seemed to smile towards the hybrid, but the goddess looked a bit doubtful.

 

“While it seems likely, there's no solid fact…”

 

“Facts will take time, which we don't have,” Laharl cut her off. “We have to make through logical explanations. And this is the best I could come up with.”

 

“Even if what you say is true… how is this going to help us find Miyabi?” the goddess asked.

 

“She still might need mana charged items… or maybe she'll need info. Whatever she needs, the only one she's liable to talk to is…” he pointed towards the god inside the interrogation room. “Him.”

 

“Good thinking, my friend,” the Seraph stated after a moment of silence. “A bold plan indeed.”

 

“What plan?” the Nitasha asked. “I don't think he mentioned a `plan' in his whole speech thingy!”

 

The seraph looked towards the young goddess. He smiled.

 

“The plan is simple,” he stated calmly. “The plan… is to let that technician go.”

 

-----------------------------

 

It was morning. The hazy memory of yesterday's debacle was still fresh in Keitaro's mind as he woke up. The sun was slowly showing itself from outside of his window, brightening his surroundings. He still felt rather sleepy, and a loud noise woke him up.

 

Unlike most nights, where he slept early after reading a few more chapters of Keitaro's journal, he was kept up, restless by the thought of the frail looking Motoko of yesterday. Her lie had backfired on her in a rather large way and paid the price.

 

How was he supposed to face her from now on? He had found the girl rather pitiful, and was in dire need of helping hands. He doubted if Kitsune could even hope to contend as a supporting role… maybe on Naru's case as they were school friends, but not Motoko. Su, Shinobu and Sarah would most likely be too young to even relate.

 

That would leave me, Keitaro thought… but laughed at the idea. How can he support a girl he hardly even knew? At least the old Keitaro understood (somewhat) how Motoko Aoyama worked and ticked… but K2? In his world, he just avoided her.

 

Would he support her with lies? Would he tell her, its okay, shit happens, and leave it to that? What if he did any of those, and the results became worse than expected? The girl did save his life, and he was going to repay her by giving her empty lies, and hope.

 

No… Keitaro didn't work like that. He was not a man who would spit on the face of people who had given him things to be thankful for. She saved him, and now she needed help. She might have done herself in with a lie, but if Keitaro could help her get back on her feet… he'd do it without a second thought.

 

Another noise had put his mind more on alert. Wiping out the sleepiness off his eyes, Keitaro limped up towards the closet, and looked for some decent clothes.

 

The clothes Keitaro of this world had been another complaint. Most of them were really average shirts, shorts and pants, and none were unique or special. There was a black suit though… complete with jacket, tie, pants and shoes, but even then, it lacked the usual style and flair that K2 usually looked for. It wasn't even tailored! Just a regular run-of-the-mill suit… absolutely boring in his humble opinion.

 

He chose a comfy shirt and pants which he folded to accommodate his cased leg. He grabbed his aluminum crutches, and felt the cold metal on his skin before he was finally ready to go down and maybe eat some breakfast. During that time, he can think of a way to support Motoko.

 

“MYUU!”

 

The moment he opened his sliding door, he noticed the flying Tama-chan greeting him. He smiled towards the turtle, and walked out towards the hall, and limped on his way down, when his keen eye caught something.

 

The whole hall looked like it was polished to an almost mirror sheen. A step proved that it might actually have been waxed because the whole surface was as slippery as a frozen lake. He took a few tentative steps, and made his way towards the kitchen in very slow motions as not to slip.

 

It seems everyone was gathering on the kitchen door, and Keitaro wondered what was going on. He was about to ask when he saw Motoko in a maid outfit, cooking.

 

He blinked.

 

“Good gods, I hope I'm dreaming,” Keitaro muttered as he wiped his eyes. He did so again. “What in the world's going on here?”

 

“Check it out Keitaro,” Kitsune smiled, pointing towards Motoko. “When she came to my room last night to borrow some of my clothes… I didn't know she was gonna do this!”

 

“Wah! She's so cute!” Shinobu exclaimed.

 

Cute was a right term to use. Motoko had tied her hair in a ponytail, and her bangs were also done in. She looked at the cooking stove quite seriously. Her outfit was one of those fantasy French maid outfits, tight fitting especially around the chest and stomach area. The skirt was quite short, not even reaching the knees, revealing her shapely thighs. Her legs were covered in black stocking.

 

Keitaro felt slightly odd seeing Motoko in that outfit for it was not something he'd imagine Motoko wearing at ease; while she looked very desirable in that outfit, her face ruined her beauty. She looked like she was trying force herself to play a character in a movie she could not relate to.

 

Her eyes seemed rather dead.

 

When she looked up towards the others, she spotted Keitaro looking at her, studying. She shifted uncomfortably.

 

“G… good morning… Urashima… senpai…”

 

He cringed at her speech. He could see the various details from her cheeks being slightly blushing, the sweat forming around her chin, and the bandages around her hand, probably caused by knife cuts.

 

“Killing yourself to serve breakfast, Motoko?” Keitaro asked. He was hoping to get a bit of rise or laugh out of her… but she just ignored what he said and went for the pots.

 

“I… I made clam flavored soup!” Motoko declared, going towards one of the pots and tasted the broth. “I know it's your favorite…”

 

“You don't have to make breakfast…” Keitaro stated, gently grabbing her shoulder. “You're upset… but…”

 

“Please!”

 

Motoko's exclamation came clear and loud as she turned around, as not to face the others. Keitaro was pretty sure she was crying.

 

“I… I'm a regular girl…” Motoko stated with an even voice. “My swords broken and I have no where else to go. I decided to remain here… and work as payment for the rent.”

 

She slowly moved back towards the pans and began to continue her work there.

 

“So… please… let me work diligently so… I can stay.”

 

“Motoko…” Keitaro called gently towards the young woman. When she didn't respond, he nodded to himself, and just sat down on one of the chairs. The others seemed to follow suit. They quietly waited for Motoko to serve up breakfast, looking at each other and towards their dressed tenant.

 

Motoko wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, and silently began to place rice and meals towards their respected plats and bowls. One by one, she placed a tray that held a traditional Japanese breakfast towards the others.

 

“Uh… is… this it?” Kitsune asked, a bit taken aback. Keitaro was too.

 

Usually, Shinobu would prepare a rather nice quantified meal… of course, it's not to say that Motoko's breakfast looked ugly or inedible, but the amount that was on the tray was ridiculous. One bowl of rice that wasn't even filled out, the dish in a small platter… even smaller than what Keitaro would use to drink sake with the Kitsune back in his world. Even the soup was not filled halfway through its bowl.

 

Su seemed to raise her hand. “Um… Momo… where's the rest?”

 

“This is it,” Motoko stated.

 

“But… where's the banana?” Su asked back.

 

“Banana?” Motoko shook her head. “This is a Japanese meal.”

 

“B… but I'm not Japanese!”

 

“Neither am I…” Sarah seemed to mutter as she poked her dish with her fork.

 

Motoko seemed to get annoyed at the protests. “Martial artists are people who learn to live with only a few things,” Motoko stated, crossing her arms across her chest. “And besides… what I cooked are healthy foods!”

 

Kitsune whispered towards Keitaro, “Oh yeah… `I'm a regular girl' she claims,” she stated sarcastically, earning a small smile from Keitaro. “And here she is… telling us about martial artists when she's wearing a maid uniform.”

 

Keitaro tried not to chuckle. For a moment, Motoko's eyes flared with life as she had lectured Sarah and Su about the importance of eating healthy food and the benefits of living like a martial artists. While Sarah seemed to claim that she was overdoing it, Keitaro didn't speak. He could live like this for a while… besides, Motoko looked slightly happier than she did a moment ago.

 

“I don't care! I'm not a martial artist! And I want a banana!” Su complained.

 

“Seconds please!” Kitsune asked, raising her bowl.

 

“There won't be seconds or thirds anymore,” Motoko declared.

 

“WHAT!?” Kitsune demanded, standing up, looking astounded.

 

“We'll be eating again at twelve sharp!” Motoko ignored the protesting Kitsune. “And no snacks between meals!”

 

Kitsune's and everyone else's (Keitaro kept silent) protest were ignored by Motoko's ears as she cleaned up after everyone. Keitaro, along with the others, just walked out of the kitchen, and walked carefully in the still slippery floors.

 

“I'm still hungry,” Kitsune complained.

 

“Me too… my breasts and butt are still in development too,” Sarah quipped, earning a rather quiet snort from Keitaro. Behind them was Su, who just slid on the floor tiredly, and probably very disappointed that she did not get a well deserved banana.

 

“I know eating too much is bad for you…” Keitaro whispered with a slightly nervous tone (to keep up the image of being Keitaro of this world). “But… the meal was silly.”

 

“You're right,” Kitsune muttered before she skipped away from the group. “But I'm not just lie here! Life is about enjoying living it! What's the fun living in a strict mentality eh?”

 

Keitaro chuckled. “You live like you want, right, Kitsune?”

 

“You better believe it,” she said with a wink as she turned and walked away.

 

In a matter of a few minutes, Keitaro and the others heard Kitsune scream. Keitaro looked alert, thinking of what possibly had happened to make the woman scream like that. He was about to go when she came down holding a large bottle of sake, her face crunched, looking as sour as a lemon.

 

“What is this!?” Kitsune complained, holding the bottle.

 

Sarah grabbed it, and smelled it, and looked sour herself. She held her nose as if the bottle contained some really smelly liquid. Keitaro grabbed it after her, and took a whiff as well. His nose crunched at the absolutely powerful smell of vinegar as it entered through his nasal passage. He immediately placed the bottle an arms length away.

 

“Vinegar…” he replied weakly.

 

“I know damn well its vinegar!” Kitsune stated loudly. “I tasted it!”

 

Motoko suddenly appeared, probably already finished washing the dishes from the kitchen. Her eyes were still on fire as she watched everyone and gave them all a nod.

 

“Kitsune, drinking vinegar is good for you,” Motoko stated. “It will also make you feel younger too!”

 

“B… but…!”

 

“Didn't you also say you felt that you were gaining weight?”

 

That question got Kitsune to turn to a statue. She looked like she was electrocuted. Motoko didn't seem to want to listen as she grabbed the other girl's hand and brought her out towards the grounds.

 

“We will jog around Hinata-sou 30 times!” she suddenly declared, and dragged Kitsune on the run.

 

“No… wait!”

 

But her protests died down as the first round grabbed her breathe and stamina. On the entrance, Keitaro and everyone else watched as Motoko pushed the poor woman into a running game. Keitaro had to wonder briefly how badly he was in shape as he watched the sight, and soon, felt sorry for Kitsune as she was forced to run.

 

And that was just the beginning. Shinobu, after a while, realized that she needed some firewood, and asked Sarah to help her out. Out of nowhere, Motoko appeared with two knives, and to Shinobu and Sarah's shock, just chopped the logs to pieces. The girls ran away, ignoring Motoko's inquiry if they needed more help.

 

Another attack of the Broken Samurai Girl (as Keitaro would now christen Motoko) came when Shinobu went to wash the laundry. Once again, Super Maid Motoko (this time, Kitsune christened Motoko with that name) came to the rescue (to her mind) and grabbed the basket, and dumped all of the clothes in the washing machine without even bothering with separating the colors.

 

The end result was spectacular. The pure white shirt Keitaro had became pink, and one of Kitsune's lingerie turned to a weird shade of green. While Keitaro didn't mind the shirt, Kitsune was absolutely aghast that by mid-afternoon, she called in a meeting in the rooftops… and dumped all her problems to the manager.

 

“Keitaro, do something!” Kitsune moaned. “She's driving me nuts! No sake, no full course meal… lunch was even worse than breakfast!”

 

“I want banana! Banana!” Su moaned quietly.

 

“I… I want to do some chores at least…” Shinobu complained as well. She rarely complained.

 

“Keitaro… she's being very weird!” Sarah complained. “Can't ya do something?”

 

“Like what?” Keitaro asked. “Her sister kicked her out of the school… probably the only thing she knew how to live for.”

 

“Can't you like call Tsuruko?” Kitsune asked. “I mean… we can try to convince her to forgive Motoko… I mean… everything that happened yesterday was quite silly.”

 

“Yeah…” Sarah agreed. “Silly!”

 

“Yeah… well, it might add to the fact that Motoko's family is from the old line,” Keitaro reasoned. “You know… honor, respect, and all that. But she has no where else to go. She convinced herself that she's worthless now that she isn't a swordswoman. You all have to admit… she does do her job well and diligently.

 

“Look… I'll think of something,” Keitaro continued. “But for the meantime… just hold on for a while, alright? If we can do that, we can at least help Motoko as she's going through this phase.”

 

Kitsune looked at him studiedly, and then smirked. Keitaro could feel a tease coming out of the woman as her grin turned a bit wild. He slowly expected the worst.

 

“You know Keitaro… by the way you talk about Motoko, it's like you like her,” Kitsune declared softly.

 

“Why would you say that?” Keitaro asked, looking miffed.

 

“Oh… you know… the soft tones you use when you mention her name… the way your eyes look all lovey dovey when you see her…”

 

Keitaro found Kitsune's teasing a bit irritating as it was not exactly a good time to be teasing him about. Sure, he might have found her slightly cuter ever since she wore that French maid outfit (and since it was taken from Kitsune's wardrobe… probably not a real uniform for a maid) but he was more concerned about her well being than anything.

 

“I am not attracted to her at all,” Keitaro denied with a slightly cold tone. “I just feel sorry for her. She lived her whole life as a samurai, now she's trying too hard to be a regular girl, and it doesn't suit her. She isn't exactly feminine, and she looks even worse if she tries.

 

“She's trying such a ludicrous outfit that doesn't even suit her!” Keitaro frowned a bit. “And by the way she's been acting she actually thought she could change overnight! Motoko is trying hard… but she can't! She's trying to show she can be a regular girl, but everything she's doing just screams out `swordswoman'! She just can't… period.”

 

Keitaro looked at the others, hoping to garner a response, but they seemed to ignore him, looking behind him blankly. Su was waving her hand.

 

Keitaro silently cursed, and looked behind him, to see Motoko on the ground, her hands on her sides, and a bunch of laundry, which she was probably carrying, fell neatly around her feet. She was quite far, but Keitaro expected her eyes to form some tears. He cursed silently again, and descended from the ladder he was standing in.

 

“Motoko, wait…” Keitaro called as he slowly went towards the ground.

 

The girl ran fast, ignoring his call. Keitaro was about to follow, when once again his body disobeyed him. His freezing spell hit him during a mid step, and the end result was flailing to the ground face first.

 

It lasted only a second, and Keitaro began to curse out loud. Damn this body of his for freezing on him! Damn his mouth for saying something harsh and stupid! Damn the girl for putting herself and him to this fucking predicament! Damn that Tsuruko woman for appearing! Damn this world for not being his!

 

Every problem Keitaro had forced back inside came bubbling out, and he couldn't keep his curses quite silent. He stood up with a growl, and wished he could punch a wall… or shoot something with an automatic rifle!

 

His body posture turned straight, and Keitaro just walked in towards the dorm with a blank face. Up on the roofs, Kitsune and the others were watching Keitaro with interest.

 

“Wow…” Kitsune stated. “Didn't know he cursed like that.”

 

“The dork's been acting weird too,” Sarah declared.

 

“Probably `cause Naru isn't around, and because she's been giving him the cold shoulder,” Kitsune concluded.

 

“Naru's in Kyoto, right?” Shinobu asked. Kitsune just nodded.

 

“I want banana…” Su just stated, still hungry.

 

-----------------------------

 

Keitaro sighed as he sank down in one of the couches in the reception area of the dorm. His momentary anger of everything was almost gone, but his mood had not improved much. He had opened his mouth, and in return, he drove away the girl he had been trying to help.

 

He knew he didn't do anything wrong, exactly. He did speak a rather harsh truth that she was trying too hard… but he couldn't help but feel bad about it. He sighed.

 

The phone rang.

 

Keitaro stood up and limped towards the phone. He answered it after it rang one more time when it was in his reach.

 

“Hello?” he muttered rather evenly.

 

“Mr. Urashima, good afternoon.”

 

Keitaro felt his anger rise again, worsening his mood. Why was the damn woman calling him now?

 

“Good afternoon,” Keitaro greeted rather coldly.

 

“I would like to set a meeting with you,” Tsuruko's voice was crisp and clear. “It concerns Motoko.”

 

Keitaro listened intently. “Go on.”

 

“I would like to meet you at this certain place in thirty minutes time…”

 

Keitaro grabbed a pencil and paper. He wrote down the details, and hung the phone after the use. He looked at the piece of paper a moment, and wondered briefly why Tsuruko wanted to meet up with him.

 

He hoped she wasn't going to give a silly proposition, or else he'd really give it to her… her sword skills and his weak body be damned.

 

He ripped the paper into a many pieces after he memorized the details. Time to dress up.

 

To Be Continued…

 

Not much… but I guess most people know what's coming up, eh?

 

I'm still working on the Beginning of Keitaro Urashima (story about K2 before he became K2) and thanks to my PS2… :P I kinda got side tracked.

 

Anyways, enjoy the chapter.