Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Walking the Edge ❯ Fight, Fight, Fight ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

BIG FREAKING DISCLAIMER: I don't own Love Hina, only Kiera. But I wish I owned Love Hina… *sigh*

Anything in italics are thoughts. If I can get the italics to work… Or if they're like this: `thought' and mentioned as a thought. Most of the time.

Chapter 5 - Fight, Fight, Fight

The others were gathered on the rooftops surrounding landing. Kiera and Motoko were at opposite corners. Motoko clad in her usual red hakama and white gi and Kiera dressed in her black clothes and black trench coat.

"Don't you want to talk this over?" Keitaro asked. "I don't want anyone to get hurt." He was the referee, right down to the striped shirt and black slacks.

"Keitaro, shut up. You're ruining the fun." Kitsune threw a shingle at him. Naru rolled her eyes.

"Hey, watch it!" He ducked. "You nearly hit me!"

While he yelled at Kitsune, Su took the opportunity to chuck a shingle at him. It hit him directly on the back of the head and sent him flying over the railing.

THUD! "I'm okay!"

"Su!" Shinobu scolded.

The blond girl smiled at Shinobu. Behind her back, she fingered another to throw once Keitaro got back upstairs.

"Su, I know you're going to throw another one. If you do, you can't sleep with me tonight." Shinobu whispered in the blond one's ear.

Su's face fell. "Alright." She knocked the shingle away.

Keitaro suddenly reappeared, sporting a bandage on his head.

"Hey, what are the rules?" The American asked, unsheathing her katana.

"First blood only. Let's keep this fight clean. No hair pulling, no biting, and no blows to the head. Now, if there are no objections, let's get it on!" He sweatdropped under the weight of the stares he was getting. Maybe he shouldn't have watched Celebrity Deathmatch after all.

Naru sweatdropped. "What the hell is that?"

"Hey Motoko, maybe Keitaro's right. You should quit while you're ahead and save yourself an ass whooping," Kiera smiled mockingly, her katana hung, point down, in her hands.

"You're the one who going to get your ass whooped," Motoko snarled.

"Yeah, real tough coming from someone who's talking and not fighting," Kiera goaded. `Yeah, piss her off and she'll make the first move and first mistake.' She chuckled to herself.

Motoko tore her sword from the sheath. "Why you. . .' she thought angrily and let off the first attack that came to mind. "AIR CUTTING STRIKE!"

"Oh, fuck."

Kiera dodged left to avoid the wall of chi. "Neener neener! You missed me!" She laughed and ran in closer.

"SPLIT ROCK MANUVER!"

She ducked under the blade and slashed across Motoko's stomach. It met nothing but cloth. "Damn." She spun around and came face to face with her opponent, her katana in an awkward defensive position with its point down. "Heh, you spend too much time calling out your attacks."

"Oh yeah? Then why are you on the defense?"

"Hey, you know what they say. It's all fun and games `til someone gets hurt." Kiera's sword point rifled up, attempting a slash across the other's chest.

Motoko blocked and barely stopped it. Her brows furrowed in thought. `How did she do that? I should've been able to knock her sword away.'

Both pushed against each other, trying to put the other off balance. Suddenly Kiera lashed out with a fist and struck Motoko in the stomach. The young samurai stumbled back and quickly regained her footing. She swung her sword only to hear steel on steel and leapt back. Her weapon raised in another attack when Keitaro ran between the both of them. Their audience sat and watched in shocked silence.

"Stop, stop! Kiera won!" He grabbed Motoko by the shoulders.

"WHAT?! Are you blind, Urashima? We're not done yet!" She struggled to get out of his grasp and strike the smirking American.

"No, she won. You're already bleeding Motoko," he said gently, forcing her arms down.

The samurai paused and looked down to see her top cut through to the flesh underneath. It was a deep slash across her abdomen, bleeding rather heavily and soaking into her clothes. Her fingers traced the wound and came away stained. "But how?" `I don't recall being struck so hard.' She thought to herself as she pressed a hand against it to slow the flow of blood.

Kiera stared at the wound, at the blood, with almost a primal hunger then her expression blanked. She drew her eyes up to Motoko's. "Eh, I can answer that." She opened her left hand, palm up. There sat a silver folding knife, spotted with red. She flicked it open and showed it was covered in drying blood.

"You cheated!" Motoko lunged at her.

The American swatted the sword aside with her own. "All's fair in love and war," she shrugged and leaned in. "Be glad I'm not in love, lust maybe," she hissed in the swordswoman's ear. She drew back with a peculiar, sly smile on her face.

Motoko blushed bright red. `Why am I blushing? And just what did she mean by that??' Her mind offered a few suggestions that made her blush harder. She sank to her knees, leaning on her sword for support.

"Here, lemme see your wound," she knelt down and laid her hand on Motoko's. A different hand clamped on Kiera's shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing? You're lucky she's not seriously-"

"Naru, it's alright." She tried to placate the angry redhead. She looked down at Kiera. "Well, you won. You may do to me as you wish." Motoko bowed her head.

`Oh, I can definitely think of a few ideas.' An inner voice suggested. Kiera struggled not to grin and succeeded. "Let's worry about that later and get you fixed up first." She pulled her hand back.

Su and Shinobu had already disappeared and Naru was standing off to the side, fuming. Kitsune observed the scene with masked interest. She hadn't caught what was whispered between the two that made the resident swordswoman blush so hard, but now she was curious. `Something's going on and I'm gonna find out.' She smiled to herself. "Come on Naru," she grabbed her friend by the arm. "Motoko's going to want to wallow in her defeat, so let's go back downstairs and let them help her."

Naru reluctantly let herself be led away and down the stairs. "Keitaro, as our manager, you have to help Motoko," she sniffed, glaring at Kiera with thinly veiled anger. She stomped down the stairs after Kitsune.

"Sorry about that, it's just that Naru is protective of her friends," Keitaro frowned. "But that was really dangerous, someone could've been badly hurt." He sighed, "I'll go call the doctor." He turned to leave.

Motoko grabbed his wrist. "Urashima, I will be fine. There is no need to trouble the doctor."

"But-"

"I'm fine." Her tone carried an air of finality.

"If you're sure." The manager sighed. "Here, give me a hand and let's get her downstairs."

"I can walk on my own, thank you." Motoko rose unsteadily to her feet, using her sword as support. Her hand was still pressed against her wound, the blood flow tapering off slowly. She wavered and Kiera quickly rushed to one side as Keitaro rushed to the other. She shook them both off.

"Motoko, please, you'll hurt yourself more if we can't help," Keitaro pleaded, his hands ready to catch her.

"Come on, is your pride really worth major bodily injury?" The other sighed.

In response, Motoko held her free arm out to the American. Kiera ducked under her arm and wrapped one arm around the samurai's waist for support. She pulled Motoko's arm around her shoulders, holding onto her tightly and carefully. Keitaro gently pried the sword from the swordswoman's hands and also picked up Kiera's sword.

"I'll go and get the first aid kit." He rushed downstairs, taking both swords with him.

"So. Your room or mine?" Kiera grinned suggestively, trying to lighten the mood as they hobbled down the stairs. To her immense surprise, the other laughed.

"Oh, my room please. It's difficult to comprehend what a foreign fiend might do to me," Motoko teased, her eyes twinkling.

"Alas!" Kiera dramatically held her free hand up to her heart. "Thine honeyed words hath lain my heart bare!"

"Ah, but thou speaks with the devil's forked tongue, nothing but lies and deceit." Motoko countered, smiling.

They were laughing when they reached Motoko's door. "We have reached our destination, whilst I be deprived of thy company now?" Kiera grinned as she slid the door open.

"Nay, how can I turn thee away? Enter."

"Thank you, fair mistress."

They limped over the threshold and over to Motoko's futon. It was already unrolled with a first aid kit sitting to the side it. Both of their swords were lying next to it.

"Um, yeah," Kiera helped Motoko sit down on the futon. "So, I'll help fix you up since it was my fault." She knelt down and fished around in the unusually large first aid kit for gauze and alcohol. "Maybe you should lie back."

Motoko obeyed and the American pulled out gauze and rubbing alcohol from the kit.

"Um, you, uh, have to remove your top. I need to see the wound." Kiera blushed slightly, looking away.

The samurai blushed herself, but undid the ties for her top clumsily and one-handed. She flinched a little when hands came to contact with her flesh. Kiera helped her out of her top, leaving her lying there with only her chest wrappings. She slid off her own trench coat, laying it to the side.

"You need to move your hand." She struggled not to stare while Motoko drew her hand away from the wound. She exhaled heavily. "That's gonna need stitches."

Motoko flexed her fingers, flakes of dried blood fell off. "I don't want to trouble the doctor with such a trivial matter."

"Trivial? I dealt you a deep cut there. You don't need an infection to add onto it." Kiera prodded the edge of the wound, causing blood to flow out and cover the finger. The other winced. She brought the finger to her mouth and sucked the blood off slowly, savoring the metallic flavor.

Motoko watched intently, well aware that her body was heating up the more she stared. `Damn, what's wrong with me? That's blood, it's not suppose to be a turn on.' The American looked straight into her eyes; once again they were rimmed with amber.

"Well, I know another way to fix it, but you have to trust me." In a blink, the amber rim was gone, her eyes were again dark pools. "It's either that or the doctor." They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I'll take the alternative way."

A pleased smile crossed Kiera's expression. "All right. Close your eyes."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~

Kitsune walked in on an eyeful when she had found Shinobu and Su in the hot spring, making out with a fervor.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The foxy woman smiled. "I didn't know ya swung that way Shinobu."

Both of them stiffened and the violet-haired one pushed the blond one away. "Kitsune! It's not what you think!" Shinobu exclaimed, turning red all over. Su drifted back over and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind. "Let's face it, we can't hide ourselves forever Shinobu."

The younger girl leaning into the blond's strong arms. "But they'll kick us out because we're. . ." she trailed off. She looked up at Kitsune's face. Surprisingly, she didn't find the normal conniving smile she always wore, but a kindly one.

"Now, I was just kidding around. I'm sure no one would really mind you two being together." Kitsune took a step back into the doorway. "I'll take a shower, and give you two some privacy." With that said, she left. Su and Shinobu stayed and cuddled, pleased that it didn't turn out worse.

In the shower, Kitsune pondered random things while she washed herself. `Shinobu and Su. I can say I never saw that one coming.' Thinking back, it explained a lot of things. `Hmm, now what about our new tenant and Motoko? I don't intend to let that one slip by me!' She toweled off and quickly got dressed. She headed out and up the stairs, determined to dig up some dirt.

Walking down the second floor hall, she spied Keitaro exiting Motoko's room. Kitsune ducked into a doorway and popped out just as he walked by. "Hey Keitaro. Did you finally give into your urges and take Motoko?" she smiled slyly.

He reddened and rolled his eyes. Even after all this time, he still blushed at Kitsune's comments. "No, I just dropped off the first aid kit in her room." She just smiled at him and stepped aside, allowing him to pass. He hurried past her, patting her head and making a beeline for Naru's room.

Kitsune slipped into Su's room as soon as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She waded through various machine parts and foliage over to the wall connecting Su's and Motoko's room. Pulling a compact hand drill out of nowhere, she drilled a pair of holes, bringing Motoko's unrolled futon in direct view. Soon, both sword swingers limped in, the American laying the other down on the floor. They were talking and because Kiera's back blocked her view, she couldn't hear a word they were saying or read their lips.

She pulled back from the wall, and returned to the pile of discarded machinery. Frantically digging around, Kitsune uncovered a pair of wraparound headphones with rabbit ears where the speakers should have been. Designed to be sensitive enough to hear a cricket chirp a mile away, she rushed back over to the holes and peered through. Pulling them on, she winced a moment when loud noises flooded deaf ears before it configured itself to her. Kitsune's eyes widened when she saw Motoko's bloodied torn top lying to the side. She pressed closer against the wall, catching the last bits of Kiera and Motoko's conversation.

"-either that or the doctor."

"I'll take the alternative way."

"All right. Close your eyes."

Kitsune spotted the glint of a blade as Kiera lifted her hand. Stifling the urge the cry out, she just let the scene play out. Somehow, she knew the other wasn't going to hurt Motoko.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~

Kiera flicked open her folded knife again and wiped the remaining blood off onto her pants. She transferred it to her right hand and pressed the blade against her left palm, ignoring the feeling of being watched prickling down her spine. In a swift downward stroke, she hissed as the blade cut through her skin as easily as it had for Motoko. Clenching her teeth, she squeezed her hand into a fist, letting drops of blood fall into the wound.

Motoko resisted the instinct to cover the wound when the first burning drop fell in it. She pressed her short fingernails into her thighs as more drops of fire dripped into her cut, magnifying the existing pain and growing more intense by the second.

The American blinked as she watched Motoko sink her nails into her thighs, a grimace of pain contorting her normally calm expression. For the first in a long while, she felt a twinge of guilt for causing unnecessary pain. She looked at her now undamaged palm then back to the samurai. Quickly, she maneuvered herself from sitting at the other's side to straddling the swordswoman's legs. Without another thought, she pressed her mouth to the wound.

When Motoko felt something rest itself against her legs, she immediately stopped fidgeting. She gasped when she felt something warm and wet press against the wound, sending the thought of pain fleeing. Her eyes popped open and she looked down to find herself staring straight into Kiera's eyes. She watched as an amber rim outlined her iris and slowly consumed its way to the pupil. Her eyes slid shut again as she began to squirm slightly from the sensations.

A low, involuntary moan escaped Motoko's lips as she felt a tongue begin to abrade the injury. The pain faded as the under the hunger of other things, darker, more heated things. Hot breath danced across her skin as she began to recognize what she was feeling. It was unfamiliar, but she knew her own body well enough to figure it out. She was undeniably aroused.

Kiera pulled back from the wound, her lips curled up into a smirk. Under her ministrations, the deep cut had become wet, unbroken skin. She dipped her head down and traced her tongue slowly across the skin a final time. As she drew back, she exhaled over the skin, eliciting a shiver from Motoko as the breath gusted over damp, reddened skin.

As Kiera climbed to her feet, she scooped up her sword. "Hope you feel better," she winked to Motoko as she walked out, her trench coat lying forgotten on the floor. The door silently slid shut behind her.

"Damn." Motoko breathed as the door glided shut.

"Fuck, now I need a cold shower." Kiera muttered as she walked down the hall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Inside Su's room…

"Oh my God."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

A/N: I think I was trying too hard. Oh well, here's a long chapter to make up for no update on Sunday. And thank you to my few reviewers. *hint hint* I hope this chapter lives up to its R rating now. Yeah, so tell me how this chapter is, I have low confidence in my writing skills. (Is it even possible to make a story over-descriptive??) With school soon to be out, I'll have plenty of time to work on this. Remember, review! I might update faster!

And respond to my poll! Should Motoko stay traditional or be more open-minded? Should the supernatural stuff make more of an appearance? Should I be allowed to talk to myself?

-MindKore