Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ K2: A View to a Truth ❯ Chapter 10

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10 - The Nature of Fate

 

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Keitaro had skipped dinner (regretting the fact a few minutes earlier because Shinobu was the one who cooked this time). He was limping on his way back to Yuko's house. He had no difficulty remembering it, even though it was dark when he last visited; it was one of the few things he got from his training.

 

When asked why he was going out, he explained had to meet someone. Kitsune, Sarah and Su didn't seem to mind as their eyes were more geared towards the delicious looking (and abundant) dinner. Shinobu, bless the girl, looked rather disappointed, and had asked him to stay. While tempted, Keitaro had other plans, and politely declined.

 

Motoko hadn't spoken, nor looked at him since the incident on the manager's room. Keitaro had to sigh. He wanted to speak to her in private, maybe try to do something… but the problem was, he didn't know exactly what he did wrong. Keitaro knew, for one, it wasn't about the coupling they were supposed to get into. Her last sentence though, had given him an insight.

 

`It's not me you want.'

 

What was he supposed to say? He wants to enjoy having a good squeeze, especially with a very fine looking woman such as herself, but couldn't because he wasn't sure if she was in her actual right state of mind to even do something like that?

 

Women, he thought rather darkly. They complicate matters worse than fermentation. At least Kitsune kept things rather simple.

 

Keitaro shook his head. Now was not the time. Treat it like a job. Don't make your thoughts jumbled and more complicated than it is already. He thought long and hard with those two sentences in his mind, and relaxed after taking a deep breathes.

 

Besides… he already arrived. And judging by the slight show of light in the interior, Yuko was home.

 

The front door suddenly opened, surprising Keitaro a bit. Apparently, she was expecting him as well. She smiled, and greeted him rather warmly.

 

“Good evening, Urashima-san.”

 

Keitaro looked at her, and suddenly chuckled. Why was he surprised? Without answering, he entered her humble abode. He took of his sandal, and placed it besides another pair of sandals. Keitaro noticed it was the same brand he was wearing, and apparently, the same size. He wondered briefly if someone else was in the house.

 

He followed her towards the hall where they had talked before. But unlike before, the hall was changed to something a bit more professionally. Last time, the only thing Keitaro had noted was a chair where he sat, and a rather long sofa, in which Yuko would slide down at times during the conversation.

 

Not anymore.

 

In the middle of the room was a table, along with two rigid and tall chairs. She sat on one side, and offered him a seat on the other. He did so.

 

After he had settled down did he feel the full force of the difference of the mood in the room… sure, nothing except the table and chairs were changed, but he knew that Yuko somehow knew he was coming, and prepared this room as a means to settle business and not for informal chit-chat.

 

He felt the wariness coming at him again, but let it be. The woman was dangerous no doubt. He was a bit glad she was not against him. At least for now.

 

“Hmmm… were you expecting me?” he asked, though he probably already knew the answer. He just wanted to start everything a bit slowly. A bit of light conversation perhaps.

 

“Yes,” she replied with a slight smile. “I hope you like the setting; took me all morning to get it right. As you've no doubt remember, I told you I had a shop in which I grant wishes to those who need them. I tried to emulate the look of it. I think I did a rather good job.

 

“I'd also have offered you some tea… but… I'm afraid my assistant takes care of those things back at my shop,” she smiled disarmingly now. “You know, you're quite interesting, Mr. Urashima. You've adjusted quite well in this world.”

 

“More or less,” Keitaro replied, his head shifting a bit to the right as if to stretch out a kink. “I'm flattered that you find me interesting. I was a bit afraid I wouldn't find you anymore. It's been a month since we last met, after all.”

 

She moved her hands slowly, caressing her own cheek. Her eyes stared at his for a moment.

 

“So… shall we continue this game, or shall we get straight down to business?” Yuko asked seriously. “I don't mind the small talks, but I have a feeling you might want to eat dinner soon.”

 

Has she been watching him? Keitaro asked that question silently on his head. Would he dare ask directly, or do a rather roundabout way of doing so?

 

“I can hold my hunger,” he then replied truthfully. “I had a decent snack with an interesting swordswoman.” He looked at her. Here it comes… “I suppose you know her, you might have watching me after all.”

 

“But of course,” she replied easily. “It was the most entertaining scenario of the day.”

 

Keitaro snorted a bit. Entertaining? Well, at least he got the theory out about Yuko watching him. He probably didn't even need to sneak that last sentence he said to find that out. She seemed in a cordial mood. “I guess you can see why I have come here.”

 

“I can take a guess,” she replied. “But of course, it's meaningless unless you yourself say it to me. It's the nature of wishes.”

 

“Fine… let's just get on with it,” Keitaro muttered. “I want you to cure my leg.”

 

The injured leg was one of his banes since his arrival at this world. While he had no qualms in limping around, an injured leg would spell disaster in battle. To train effectively for a week, he'd need his functions to be at a hundred percent.

 

The woman looked at him for a moment. Her eyes seemed to bore to his. Keitaro looked back without emotion, though his head was thinking, trying to guess what the probable response the woman would give. What would he do if she refused? And remembering their conversation before, what price would he pay for such a wish?

 

“I don't particularly ask this sort of question, but why the leg?” Yuko asked. “It's a fairly simple task… its not even worth going to me for this. There are many mage healers around this world in which you can ask.”

 

Keitaro leaned back on his chair, taking a moment before replying.

 

“I didn't know there were also mages here,” he said softly. “Even if I did, if I remember their ways correctly, there'd be a higher chance that they'd try to erase my memory of their existence if I tried to ask them for help.”

 

“You could tell them you are an agent trained in the field of the supernatural,” she reasoned.

 

“Not in this world,” Keitaro countered back. “And for your second point… I know it's a simple wish, but what if I wish for something, like let's say, the ability to be the best fighter in existence, what kind of price would I pay in return?”

 

Yuko seemed to nod. “Good point. I guess you were listening to me last time.”

 

“I was. Anyway, if I wished for that, what good would it do me if my leg was still injured?”

 

“You could always ask for another wish,” she replied.

 

“Would you give me another?” Keitaro asked back.

 

The woman smiled, and leaned towards the table. Her slender hands touched the sides of her cheek, and her eyes narrowed. Keitaro got the feeling she was egging him somewhere, and just seemed to enjoy watching his reaction. He still tried to keep a stone face. He didn't want to give her any kind of advantage.

 

“No,” she replied after a while.

 

Keitaro smirked a bit. “Thought so.”

 

Yuko Ichihara looked at the young man for a moment before she slowly stood up. He too was about to rise, but her hand motioned him to stop. He did so, and watched the woman suddenly go towards one of the big drawers in the room. She opened it, and began to search for something.

 

After a minute or so, she was still rustling on the contents of the drawer, when she spoke. “Are you curious on why I would not grant you anymore wishes?”

 

“Should I be?” he asked back.

 

She paused for a moment, and then replied, her back still on him, “Truthfully, I should not even indulge you on wishes. Technically speaking… you're an alien to this world.”

 

The woman seemed to have finally found what she was looking for. Her smile was still present as she turned back at Keitaro, holding on what appeared to be a shiny silver spoon. Keitaro's face broke its stone mask, and an apt expression of curiosity appeared on his face.

 

She ignored his expression.

 

“And to make it worse, your presence is already ominous in this world's future,” she continued as she approached the table.

 

“What do you mean?” Keitaro asked.

 

“Well, this world has a rather strict… timeline,” Yuko explained slowly, as if trying to figure out what to say next. “The world's existence depends on a handful of characters, and the actions they do. Until you're arrival, everything was, for the lack of better word… peachy.”

 

Keitaro's lips formed a smile as she said the last word. Peachy? “So… you're saying this world is already fated to lead from point A, which, let's say is the beginning of time, to point B, the end of time?” he asked.

 

“Time, future and destiny aren't as simple as a straight line,” Yuko replied softly. “I heard one man said, not in accurate verbose, mind, that time is not like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction. Time is an ocean in a storm. That is true in a sense. Every being's future always depends on his or her actions. Some actions are easier to read than others.”

 

“Easier to read? Like predictions?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“If I take that to consideration, then wouldn't, philosophically speaking, choice not matter?” Keitaro asked. “I mean… if people can just go to fortune tellers to have their futures read… and if accurate, then what's the point in choosing? What is the point of living, for the matter?”

 

“Do not confuse prediction with fortune-telling,” Yuko told him sternly, yet softly. “Hmmm… how can I explain this easily? Picture a man who goes to an Oracle. The Oracle predicts that he will die in a few minutes. He goes home, so worried, he does not see a truck coming, and kills him. Here's an interesting question… would the man have died if he had not heard the prediction?”

 

“Honestly… I don't think there's a way to answer that question,” Keitaro replied. The possibilities are a bit overwhelming. Even if he didn't believe the prediction, and wasn't worried, he could have still been run-over the truck. Of course, there is still the possibility that if he was alerted, he could have foreseen the truck, and dodged it at the last minute, and live.

 

“Of course not,” Yuko nodded. “The important fact is he died. The questions of possibilities are as useless as the argument in the existence of God. Whether he exists or not… is it that important? If he existed, would he care if other people think he exists, even more so if he doesn't?”

 

“But saying that people are fated to do or be like this, and they have no control over it…”

 

“No, my dear boy,” Yuko shook her head. “What you are talking about is fate in terms of those who cannot foresee; the idea of fate as some red string that pulls you into a destiny you have no choice over. But those who can see… they know that `fate' is nothing more than hitsuzen. People's choices affect their future. Some people can see the choice a being makes… it does not mean that the being is not free to choose, but he just doesn't know the choice he makes or why he does, until he does so.”

 

Yuko finally got near Keitaro, and held out the silver spoon.

 

“Lift your cast leg…” she ordered gently. Keitaro did as was told. “Yes… now place it in the table. Good.”

 

The young man was confused for a moment. What was she planning? What was with the spoon? He was about to ask, when suddenly, with swift motion, Yuko brought down the spoon like a hammer towards a nail, the nail being his cast.

 

There was no big explosion of mana… but a slight subtle lingering sensation in the air. Yuko was definitely an accomplished witch just by going with that. Keitaro knew how magic was done, even if he himself didn't know any. The low amount of mana used just to get the job done was a technical skill not even the western mages could hope to have without endless training. And she didn't even depend on papers or additional enchantments to cure his leg, unlike the eastern mages.

 

The cast fell out, cracked into hundreds of pieces, and fell neatly over the table. Keitaro felt his bone suddenly being secured, fixed, and healed. He slowly brought it back down. He expected some sort of pain when he placed it on the floor without the support of the cast. He was happy to know that it was not the case.

 

His leg was completely healed.

 

“Thank you,” Keitaro muttered as he stood up steadily. “Though… I may look rather silly, walking home with just one sandal.”

 

“I have a pair I just bought this afternoon,” Yuko smiled. “It's on the entrance, just at the right of the single sandal you came in with. It's the same brand. Of course, no additional cost required from you.”

 

Keitaro gave a wry smile. He noticed those sandals earlier. If those were for him (and was not owned by someone else as he thought earlier) then it was obvious that Yuko already predicted his coming, and his wish. He shook his head, his mind suddenly feeling a bit heavy.

 

Yuko seemed to have read his souring mood, and smiled at him a bit. “My dear boy… don't be let down by the fact I predicted where you would be going to. If you still feel that your freedom would be taken from you just by that, then take it this way: You and I are playing chess. Would it bother you if I was reading your moves?”

 

“In a sense,” he replied. “But this isn't chess. This is the unknown future. If someone seems to know how it goes… then what's really the point?”

 

“The same can be said about those cute Chinese boxes,” she replied. “You know… those intriguing little boxes where you have to unravel it, and reach the center. The future is like that. It takes a long while to reach the center… and the results are usually unrewarding. But it's the process of getting there which makes it all the more worthwhile.” She smiled. “That is how those who can see view the future. It's not the results that matter… but the process.”

 

Keitaro looked at her before he shook his head. While she may have said it easily, almost casually, it still felt wrong to him. How would anyone normally feel if someone told them that they could see into their future? He knew. He felt terrible.

 

Yuko must have seen his plight because she smiled, and added, “Laharl reacted almost the same way.”

 

“Oh?” Keitaro asked back, though not sure if the woman was telling him the truth or not.

 

“Yes… hence his disdain for being told of his future, no matter how vague,” the woman shrugged. “Mind over matter, my dear boy. If you don't want to know, then don't ask. Ignorance is bliss. Simple.”

 

That made some sense. Ignorance is bliss, eh? Well, Keitaro could work with that. It still bothered him, though, knowing that some people seemed to know the future of people through their choices… if that was even true. For all he could know, the woman was lying through her teeth.

 

But why would she lie? What possibly would she gain by doing that to him now? Putting those questions at the back of his mind, he wondered what he would do now. He could leave, and get himself and Motoko ready for the inevitable battle… but something in his mind bothered him.

 

Keitaro took a momentary pause, and Yuko herself seemed to welcome his silence, not even speaking out as if she knew that he was thinking something deeply. After a moment, Keitaro finally was able to get his thoughts out.

 

“How badly am I ruining the `timeline' as you say?” he asked. “And…” he added hastily, “no details.”

 

Yuko smiled at the last bit. “I'll just say you are not doing any drastic changes then,” she replied.

 

Keitaro nodded at that, but then again, another question popped on his head. He had to stop himself for a moment, his curiosity asking another question he probably didn't want to know the answer to. After a moment of silent contemplation, his curious part won.

 

“Is the Keitaro in this world supposed to marry Motoko?” he asked.

 

Yuko looked at him. She seemed to think her answer for a moment before she replied, “Keitaro of this world is to be married.”

 

Keitaro smirked a bit. He knew the reply to this one. “Married to whom?”

 

“You may not like the answer,” Yuko replied.

 

Keitaro was about to shrug his shoulders, and give a non-committal reply when he realized he'd rather not know. He just nodded, and put the question away from his mind. Besides… he got what he came for. There was no need for any more dilly-dallying.

 

“Well, thanks a lot,” Keitaro said towards the woman as he stood up. “If that's all, I'll be on my way then.”

 

“Just a moment…” Yuko replied, her hand motioning him to stop. “Do not forget about the price of your wish.”

 

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “What is it? Nothing too heavy I hope.”

 

Yuko looked at him with that same enigmatic smile she seemed to normally wear.

 

“Usually, such a simplistic wish is to be ignored… but since I like to see how it goes after this, the price will be rather simple. Your leg will break again.”

 

Huh? “When?” Keitaro asked. He didn't need his leg to keel on him when he and Motoko are training… or heaven forbid, during their battle with that Tsuruko woman!

 

“Now that… is a surprise,” she smirked. “Wouldn't be fun if you know, now would it?”

 

Keitaro's eyes narrowed towards the woman, who looked back at him coolly. The two looked at each other challengingly, not backing down. After a moment, he smiled back at her with a touch of annoyance.

 

What an interesting woman, he thought.

 

“Fine,” he said dryly. “I guess that's all.”

 

He went towards the exit, while he felt Yuko following his steps. They passed through the hall towards the entrance. Keitaro noticed the two sandals again right beside his single lonely sandal. His lips moved slightly up, forming a wry smirk for a moment. Slipping his two feet inside them, he bent down and grabbed his original sandal. He was about to go, when Yuko spoke up suddenly.

 

“I'm surprised you won't even ask about your… hmmm, how to say this… freezing spells.”

 

Damn the woman… she was definitely intriguing him. Keitaro could only look back at her. She just reminded him of another worry he hadn't taken in full account during his plan thinking: his freezing spells… what is it and what causes them?

 

K2 realized that in the past few days, he was a bit of an idiot. He overlooked a lot of things… rushed towards the plan of beating that Tsuruko woman when he hadn't fully analyzed his own limitations. He had assumed that he would be able to prepare fully in facing her with Motoko training him. His had thought his leg was his only limitation… but another factor had now crossed his mind.

 

He cursed his impatience and his rush to show up that Aoyama woman. He was definitely losing his edge.

 

“What about it?” Keitaro asked, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. He barely could. She just smiled at him.

 

“I can't help you anymore but I'll tell you. It's something to do with your own soul. But don't worry. In the near future, you'll find out what causes it. And it will be an unlikely ally in your... well… lets leave it at that.”

 

“Leave it at what, exactly?”

 

“I shan't say anything anymore, my dear boy,” she replied with a smile.

 

“You're a cruel woman,” Keitaro stated with a slight smile. “Maybe I could convince you to share your mind?”

 

“You're not my type, Mr. Urashima,” Yuko stated with a cool smile. She appreciated the try, but shot him down there and then. Keitaro's forehead seemed to nod, and take the rebuke without difficulty. He even cracked a smile.

 

“Fine then,” he replied. He gave her one last look before he strode towards the door, and exited towards the cold, yet comfortable coldness of the night air. He looked back towards the woman before he left, and said, “Good night, Ichihara-san.”

 

Yuko Ichihara watched as the young supernatural agent went on his way. Her fingers reached towards her chin, stroking it gently. Her eyes seemed to sparkle a bit, watching his retreating form. Her smile formed on her face.

 

“Now… it's all up to you, Mr. K2…” she whispered softly. “How will you hold?”

 

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The trip home was, again, uneventful, but Keitaro didn't mind one bit. While he still kept looking over his shoulder once in a few whiles so as not to get caught in another trap by some supernatural force (he couldn't take the chance after his vampire encounter before (1)), everything was clear all the way back towards Hinata-sou.

 

His stomach was rumbling quietly. He felt hungry, but he ignored it. He had to get his plan to motion. First step was to get to Motoko.

 

Her face was naturally surprised when she saw him, and was even more surprised when Keitaro just suddenly grabbed her and dragged her in the room, and closed the door shut. Her protest began to gather air, but he just hushed her with rather ill-manner. Motoko's face grew red with embarrassment, anger, and at the touch of Keitaro's hand.

 

“Urashma-san, what are yo…” she stopped suddenly when she noticed something. His leg. “How the… your leg!”

 

“What? I got someone to heal it,” Keitaro shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

 

“Who?” Motoko asked.

 

“A mage,” he lied slightly.

 

She suddenly looked flustered. “You… you know about-”

 

“Yes,” he cut her again, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “My sister is one. She's particularly good in making paper clones.”

 

In truth, Keitaro's adopted sister, K-New, was no more of a mage than he was. Her specialty was disguises… able to become the person completely physically by re-arranging her bone alignment. It was not really healthy to watch how she did so during the beginning, but he got over it after some time.

 

Keitaro just claimed this to not get her to ask too many questions. After all, it was not important how he got healed, but where they go from here on. He needed her to understand, and be on the same sort of mind as he was. He didn't want her to think about anything else except what to do from here.

 

“Oh…” she just stated. It was a rather weak reply, but it was good enough for him.

 

“Look… Motoko… we need to talk,” Keitaro started. “Next week, we're going to Kyoto to face your sister. We need to prepare.”

 

The mention of her sister and the prospect of fighting her again paled Motoko's face. Her eyes suddenly looked down, and her hands were meshed together with uncertainty.

 

Keitaro, for most part, understood her reaction. He had been hoping though that after giving her a new sword, and telling her he'd support her all the way, not to mention the advices he gave to her, she'd have been more courageous and hopeful. Well… at least she wasn't crying, bawling her eyes out, or even moaning about how it's impossible like a little baby as she had earlier.

 

Keitaro gently touched his hand on her cheeks, and stared at her eyes hard. “Motoko… it's okay,” he stated gently. “I'm not so sure about this myself.”

 

She looked at him. “Then why are you helping me?” she asked. “Why… why are you being ni… kind…?”

 

Motoko had asked a similar question earlier, though she worded herself with something less personal, and more formal. At least now she was stable, and not about to kiss him.

 

“Why are you helping me?” she asked, this time with more steel on her voice. Her formality tone was once again solid. K2 could see the old Motoko slowly resurfacing.

 

“Because I want you to…” Keitaro's mind raced. He wanted her to be what? Not being married to him? What would the sappy Keitaro of this world say to her without sounding that he was hiding something?

 

“I want you to be… happy.”

 

Motoko's eyes moistened a bit when Keitaro finished his sentence. He knew he picked the right word, but he had hoped her eyes wouldn't react in that manner. It was a bit over the top.

 

Motoko wiped her eyes. She knew she was being silly… but she couldn't help it. The Keitaro in front of her was moving her heart strings, like some harpist with gentle fingers playing a melodious tune. He had a look of a man who would stand beside her without question, yet had an air of mystery around him. She began to resent that Keitaro for a moment.

 

Where was the weakling she could pick on before? What happened to him?

 

He changed, that's what. Not completely, but enough to garner her emotions. Was this how her sister felt when she met that no good man of her husband? Was she falling in love?

 

She shook her head. No… she was being stupid now. Motoko Aoyama was not some school girl who would believe in the notion of love. She knew the truth. Love was nothing but an illusion. Men are nothing but perverts who just want to get into a woman's pants. Or look up their skirts.

 

Never mind the experience she had with Keitaro before. She blocked all those memories and feelings, numbing her heart. Her return towards God's Cry School was vastly more important than anything. She'll do what it takes to get back there.

 

Her stomach fluttered painfully at her thoughts, but she ignored that.

 

Keitaro's lips formed a slight smile as he saw her eyes hardening, glinting with a bit of steel. It seems Motoko was finally becoming more determined. He could not read her thoughts, but he'd probably appreciated her thought process to get to this point.

 

“What do you propose we do, Urashima-san?” Motoko asked, formal and unemotional.

 

“Well… since it's going to take place in a week, we have time to prepare,” Keitaro stated. “I watched your battle with your sister. I deduced a couple of things.”

 

She scooted a bit closer. “What?”

 

“She has two distinctive styles,” Keitaro replied. “Modes, if you will. During battle, she holds her swords in a sequence that determines what mode she is. One time, her left hand moves more as she twirls the sword in angles, blocking your strikes, and another time, her right hand takes over which seems to move in dead angles and straight motions to strike.”

 

Motoko seemed to nod at this. “Makes sense. My sister, when she was still training, had been using two swords. She used her left for defense, and her right for offense. She was the one that actually invented the Reflective Stance - Dual Style of Shinmeiryuu.”

 

“Really?” Keitaro asked, interested. “Why is she only using one sword now?”

 

Motoko just shrugged. “She married. She quit… and just settled for one sword.”

 

Keitaro's eyebrow rose as he nodded with understanding. “Alright. Anyway, point is, there's a slight delay in her switch. Every time she switches from defense to offense and vice versa, she always straightens the sword up in front of her. The time she wastes going through that motion is exactly one second.”

 

Motoko took a moment to get that in her head. She reviewed her fight with her sister (with some difficulty), and could see where Keitaro was going with. He was wrong though. It took 1.1 seconds, rounded of to the nearest hundredth of a second. Still, she had to admit, for him to notice that much was quite impressive. Too impressive actually.

 

“Urashima, your assumptions are quite correct,” she stated, her eyes boring to his. “It's odd though. Such an assessment takes a keen eye and some good martial arts training.” She motioned his glasses with her eyes, and then towards his body. “I don't think you have good eyesight… or had martial arts training.”

 

“I can see fine with these glasses,” Keitaro muttered, his thoughts darkening. What a great time for her to get sharp, eh? With that, he reviewed his situation again, taking clues and references to his past few days here, and mostly towards the old Keitaro's diary, trying to think of anything that would help him in this situation.

 

Finally, he got one. “Have you seen my drawings?” he asked. “If I had a bad eye, I wouldn't be able to draw that well, now wouldn't I?”

 

Motoko conceded. “Fine. But… have you had any martial arts training?”

 

Keitaro was ready for her. “Yes. I took some courses in boxing and Taekwondo when I was a young kid,” he stated. While that was true in his case, he wasn't sure if the Keitaro of this world did train in combat at all. But he highly doubted Motoko would know that tidbit.

 

To even add a bit of insult, he even asked, “How do you think I was able to beat you twice in combat?”

 

Motoko's cheeks flamed. “You have not beaten me in combat, Urashima!” she exclaimed angrily.

 

Why would he bring that up? she thought darkly. Besides, his claim was not totally true. First time they ever faced ended up with a tie, and it was only because she was sick with a cold. The second time, he was just lucky, catching her sword coming at him. She ignored the fact that the demonic turtle, Tama, had blocked her strike as well just after Keitaro did his feat.

 

Keitaro could only chuckle. Her face was priceless. “Fine… I haven't, happy?”

 

She nodded, though she still looked slightly teed off.

 

“Anyway… back to the discussion,” Keitaro nodded to himself. “Look. We can exploit her slight delay in between offense and defense.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well… on one on one combat, to exploit something like that, you have to be faster than her,” he explained.

 

“I… I don't think I can,” Motoko muttered a bit deeply, her hands going for her chin.

 

“You don't have to,” he stated. “We can both exploit her weakness.”

 

“How?” she asked again.

 

“Synchronized attack sequences,” Keitaro replied. “One of us blocks her initial attack, and the other goes right at her towards the offensive.”

 

Motoko nodded at that. Not a bad idea, in her humble opinion. It could catch her sister off guard, and would definitely exploit her delay from switching to offense to defense. It also would cover both his and her backs…

 

Suddenly, she looked towards Keitaro, her train of thoughts stopping. Was he actually thinking of joining the fray? She would have to admit, that was probably the stupidest idea she ever heard! A bit brave, but suicidal at worse! Not only does he not have the training or skills to join such a fight, but he'd probably come out more of a liability than an asset!

 

She shook her head.

 

“Urashima, I'm sorry, but we can't do that idea,” she exclaimed.

 

“And why is that?” he asked with a slight glint in his eyes.

 

“You've already seen how my sister fights…” she replied, her eyes moving towards the left to ignore his. “She's a demon. She's very skilled, even after being married. I couldn't even beat her.” She paused, and then looked towards Keitaro. “I won't let you risk getting yourself into this.”

 

“It's a bit too late saying that, Aoyama,” Keitaro muttered rather darkly. “You got me involved remember?”

 

Motoko blushed, and nodded. Yes… she did get him involved. Inconsiderately, in fact.

 

“I'm sorry about that, Keitaro…” she muttered softly, looking down. She gave a slight sigh.

 

Keitaro frowned, and then just told himself to take it easy on the girl. He needed her after all, and after a moment of contemplation, he realized he was partially to blame as well. If he hadn't cooperated with her at all, he wouldn't be in this mess.

 

“Look, Motoko… you want to make it up with me?” Keitaro asked.

 

She looked up. “Of course!” she exclaimed.

 

Keitaro suddenly approached towards her, though not so close to invade her space, and his eyes on her at once. “Train me,” he stated.

 

“For a week, train me to help you fight your sister,” he continued. “Teach me to defend, and even strike. Help me condition my body to help you so it won't slow you down.”

 

Motoko could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks again, though she forced it down. How many times had she blushed in this hour? Today?

 

“Urashima… if I train you, I might neglect my own training…” she stated. “And I'm not a qualified teacher… I don't know where to start!”

 

“Endurance… speed… stroke speed and agility… synchronization movements,” Keitaro shrugged. “You can help me with stuff like that. Look…” he took a deep breathe. “If there is anyone I know who can help me train, it's you. You're the strongest warrior I know-”

 

“I'm not…” Motoko cut him suddenly.

 

“I don't know your sister too well, so technically it's you,” Keitaro joked slightly with a smile. He got a small snort of laughter from Motoko.

 

“Look,” he began seriously again. “I have faith in you. I know you can beat her. Help me so I can help you with that. Prove to yourself and your sister you are worthy to take over the dojo… alright?”

 

Motoko looked at him for a moment, before a smile brightened her face. It was infectious. Keitaro couldn't help but smile slightly back as well. She nodded at enthusiastically, finally, without any doubts or reserve in her form.

 

Keitaro smirked slightly. If everything went well, he could finally show that woman off. While he had doubts about the training, he promised himself to devote all energy to what Motoko had to offer. A week of intensive training would make him ready enough to support her during battle.

 

His plan was in motion, and so far, hadn't suffered from any heavy hitches.

 

The bitch wouldn't know what hit her.

 

To Be Continued…

 

Notes:

 

(1) - Chapter 4 in A View to a Truth, Keitaro was ambushed by vampires, and was saved by Motoko.

 

AN: Sorry for the delay… had a trip, and this chapter was actually not even planned. But a friend of mines said it's a good transition chapter, so, what the hell.

 

Finishing it, I realized I had put a lot of stuff in it too. Not bad for a chapter that's not supposed to exist, eh?

 

Oh, and I finally got my ass to start writing chapter titles. :P I added chapter titles to all AVT chapters as well (FF.net only… sorry Mediaminer, but don't worry. Future chapters will be named). I might do the same with the other K2 stories, but don't hold you're breath too much.

 

Anyways, later!