It was a warm late-summer morning when Keitaro Urashima arrived at Hinata Sou.

He was a skinny youth, with wire-frame glasses and messy dark hair. There was a curious clumsiness to his gait, and brown eyes that would remind one of a lost puppy.

The young man had just failed his entrance exam for the auspicious Tokyo University, and his parents had evidently had enough of humoring his seemingly unreachable goals. Without a roof over his head or a penny to his name, Keitaro felt he had hit rock bottom.

This wasn't unusual, as the 19-year-old young man seemed to be cursed with poor luck following him everywhere. In school he struggled to escape the bottom of the test rankings, and even socially he was unfortunate enough to have never managed more than a conversation with the opposite sex.

As fate would have it, the poor ronin caught a letter from his grandmother Hina. Remembering the dear old woman as the innkeeper he had visited when he was a child, Keitaro was surprised to find out she had something important she needed his help with at the old Hinata Sou, so lacking any other prospects, the young set out from his hometown of Kyoto to his granny's prefecture.

Neon lights and the color of the mid day crowds flashed by with the whistling wind.

Keitaro tightened his right hand grip and eased the throttle of the motorcycle, feeling the 500cc engine purr. The rider swung in behind a moving van, shifting his shoulders as his meager backpack dug into his back. All of his worldly possessions, books and clothes were slung there, and the young man felt some melancholy that his whole life amounted to what he could carry now on the way to an unknown errand.

He looked to the gas gauge nervously, and resolved that it would just barely make it to granny's inn.

Riding through the residential district, Keitaro caught sight of a wooded hill and an ornate tile-roof just barely visible.

That must be it...

Circling around, he found the driveway entrance, and revved his bike up the sun-dappled roadway. He killed the engine, and paused a moment to remove his helmet.

It was a grand two storey hot springs inn, modernized in the Showa era. Though the building looked to be in need of minor repairs, the love and care put into the place gave it an air of home that warmed Keitaro's heart even now.

Something inside the boy resonated with this place, a feeling of nostalgia that he couldn't shake. It reminded him of sun-kissed childhood days and a girl's voice just on the edge of a dream.

"Hinata House..." Keitaro whispered.

What a beautiful scene I could sketch, I'll have to draw it sometime.

He swung his leg off the motorcycle, and taxied it along the entrance and out of the way. Hanging his helmet, the boy walked up uncertainly to the main doors and rapped on the doorframe.

No answer.

Sliding open the entranceway door, Keitaro called out uncertainly.

"Grandma Hina? It's your grandson Keitaro! I got your letter!"

His voice fizzled out in the quiet expanse of the inn, and the young man wondered for a moment if business had gotten so bad the inn was completely empty. For a moment, the boy considered taking the time for a quick bath while he waited for granny to come back from...wherever she was, but he shook his head. It would be awfully rude to invite himself in.

Resigned to a long wait, Keitaro sat on a bench in the entryway, and pulled out his university language textbook.

---

Motoko Aoyama enjoyed the feeling of the breeze in her hair as she climbed the stairs on her way home from the shrine.

She was a tall girl, with gorgeous long dark hair and a pale complexion that complimented her steely gaze. Serious and composed for a girl of 15, with ice in her hazel-grey eyes.

It wasn't a school day, so the teenager was dressed in the traditional white and red garb of Miko shrine maidens. Coming from a family that practiced the God's Cry school of swordfighting, Motoko was no stranger to formal ceremony, and in fact enjoyed volunteering with the local shrine.

A clue to her upbringing was slung over her shoulder in a cotton case, being a fearsomely sharp katana she inherited from her sister named shisui. Motoko was fiercely proud of her heritage, and her devotion to the art of Kendo went as far as carrying the blade everywhere she went.

This had the welcome effect of frightening off those detestable males.

Aoyama looked up to her older sister Tsuruko, who was renowned as one of the best swordswomen their clan had ever produced. Some years ago Tsuruko had gotten married to a man, and Motoko had never been able to accept that her idol had fallen prey to the opposite gender.

Walking in on them ki-ki-ki...kissing! may have something to do with it, but probably not!

Shaking her head to dispel the mild blush, the kendo girl walked on.

The boys at school only reinforced her negative opinion. Crass jokes, perverted leers, and weakness that made her gag. They were immature, selfish, and only interested in girl's bodies. She couldn't imagine why anyone like her sister would reduce themselves to suffering that for the rest of their lives.

As she crested the hill and came into view of the Hinata Sou, Motoko paused upon seeing an unfamiliar motorcycle parked by the entrance.

A visitor?

The girl fingered the strap of her blade, easily reachable, and walked softly towards the main doors.

She slid open the front door, and her eyes met another's.

Messy hair, wire-frame glasses, male!

"Who are you?" Motoko asked curtly.

The stranger in question stared for a moment, surprised, and then with a spot of color on his cheeks closed up the heavy textbook he was reading.

"E-excuse me. My name is Keitaro Urashima. Are you a tenant at this inn?" The male had an earnest ki aura, and Motoko felt herself relax but a fraction as she detected no malice in his brown eyes.

"I am not, I am a tenant of this girl's dormitory. Why would a man be here?" She frowned slightly, suspicious.

The boy deflated, looking even further unsure than he already did.

"Oh man...girls dormitory?! She could have at least told me that much..." He mumbled with a sigh.

Motoko cocked her head a smidge.

"Did you say your name was Urashima?"

"Yes...My grandmother is the innkeeper, or...err, she's the dorm manager." He fumbled by way of explanation. The young man adjusted his glasses and fished out a much-folded letter. "You see, I'd gotten a letter from her asking me to come down, that she needed my help with something, but if this is a girl's dorm, I mean...I'm not sure what I'm supposed to help with..."

Motoko looked over the preferred page, recognizing the eccentric writing of their resident granny. Hina-obaasan was a peculiar old sort who seemed to have a supernatural way of having things fall into place.

She glanced up and stared searchingly at the male who seemed the very definition of awkward.

Skinny, uncoordinated.

Disheveled, unremarkable.

But...very loyal for a grandson.

Aoyama resisted the urge to simply drive off the male, considering the situation. How many boys from her school would drop everything just to help an elderly relative? How many would have patiently waited at the entry rather than storm in violating the privacy of the girl's dorm?

She huffed to herself, this male was perhaps not altogether repulsive.

"I am afraid Hina-obaasan is not here at the moment, she has left for the airport with Haruka-san, your cousin I presume?"

The boy smiled, "Ohh, Aunt Haruka, I haven't seen her since...wait, airport?"

"Yes, I believe she said she was to be away for some time."

The young man's face fell.

"Oh...the letter didn't say anything about that. There wasn't any message left for me by any chance?"

"Not that I am aware, Urashima-san."

Keitaro sighed.

"I wonder why she called me then. Should I just go?"

Motoko felt a shred of confliction cross her mind. It seemed a shame that the...male, would come so far to assist Hina-obaasan only to miss her before the flight. An honorable deed deserves another, the martial upbringing in her spirit sang to her.

"Perhaps," Motoko found herself oddly nervous, "Hina-obaasan had written you to help repair the inn. There are a number of things that need to be seen to."

The boy's eyes lit up in understanding.

"Oh...Oh! Of course! She's certainly getting along in years, she must have wanted me to help with the repairs! You're really clever Miss...?"

"Motoko Aoyama." She stood but a smidgen straighter.

"Aoyama-san. Do you happen to know what needs to be repaired around the dorm? I could get started now so I can leave by night time."

The young man hitched up his heavy backpack, and adjusted his old fashioned wire-frames. To come so far and leap right to the task at hand, Motoko found that none of the boys from school had ever shown this kind of selfless drive.

"Very well, I will accompany you. It would not do for the other tenants to find a male wandering the dormitory."

As she led Keitaro into the hallway, she couldn't help but realize that this was the first time she had ever been alone with a boy.

Motoko was glad Urashima-san could not see the color dance across her cheeks.

---

Keitaro started with repairing the leaks on the boiler, and the piping to the bathrooms.

With Motoko standing guard in the hallway, he cleaned the threads and used sealing compound to tighten the gaps between the pipes. The time tested method of duct tape managed in some other cases, and with a tap replaced Keitaro soon had the women's bathroom running properly.

A railing along the upstairs walkway had become dangerous, so Keitaro cut the damaged section away and sawed a new board to the proper dimensions for the rail. Some nails, a coat of stain and urethane, and the wobble was gone.

Minor issues like missing bulbs, wiring stripped and replaced, tiles re-caulked and a sliding door jam were all attended to with a steady, hardworking effort that impressed the Aoyama girl watching carefully.

Some part of her still suspected the male might try something perverted with his access to the dormitory, however he had been a model worker from the moment he came inside. If anything, Motoko thought that he was actually bashful around her, finding it hard to meet her gaze when he spoke to her. She never saw his eyes leer the way the boys at school would stare at her legs.

There was an odd clumsiness to the way he moved, however.

Motoko knew most people who did not practice martial arts could be exceptionally uncoordinated, but something in the way that Urashima-san would stumble at moments or struggle with a simple load didn't look natural.

...an injury?

If it was, he was hiding it well.

The hot springs were next. Motoko went ahead to make sure the coast was clear, and then waved Urashima-san in. He began by draining the old water from the baths, and then got to work scrubbing the walls and the stone tile flooring of the outdoor baths.

It was strenuous work. The young man took off his shoes and rolled up his pant legs to avoid the mess, and he took his shirt off and tied it about his waist as he worked. Gripping his long-handled brush, Keitaro put his back into scrubbing the stone.

Motoko watched quietly from the bath's entrance. It seemed the young man wasn't so weak after all. She watched the muscles in his back flex as he focused on the task at hand, damp with sweat as he covered several dozen meters of stonework.

She caught herself staring, and blushed furiously.

What am I doing?! I am as bad as those perverts in school!

"What's going on?"

Motoko whirled, and found herself face to face with Naru Narusegawa, one of the other tenants. A beautiful brunette that was studying hard to enter Toudai.

"Forgive me, Narusegawa-san. I was standing by as Hina-obaasan's hired help cleans the baths."

The brown haired girl pouted.

"Aww, so no chance of a mid day bath, huh?"

"I am afraid not."

The girl left, and for some reason Motoko felt that something had just been averted.

"There, I think that's the last of it!"

Motoko turned once more, finding Keitaro slipping on his shirt once more, hefting a bucket of cleaning supplies and a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"I'm just going to run the bath once more to refill the waters, then it's as good as new."

Motoko nodded graciously.

"Thank you Urashima-san, you're a credit to your family."

"Don't mention it, I'm glad I could help."

There was a dozen different things Motoko could have said to him; Simply excusing herself, leaving him at the entryway again, or even leaving for the safety of her room...

Maybe it was a silly moment of teenage spirit, maybe it was her first time seeing a responsible male, or maybe you could say it was a whisper of fate.

Whatever the reason, for once Motoko spoke as a girl and not a warrior.

"If...if you would care for some tea, we could wait in Miss Haruka's teashop?"

---

The talked as they enjoyed the tea.

School, hobbies, family, anything and everything.

Keitaro, unfailingly honest. Ended up letting slip that he had failed his entrance exam to Tokyo University, but that he was determined to try again. He grudgingly admit he'd never had a girlfriend before, and that his motorcycle and sketchbook were his only outlets to relax.

Motoko confided that she didn't live up to her sister in the Shinmei-ryu School, and that she found herself despising the males at her school. Something about the young man put her at ease, and she found herself opening up about how she had chosen to devote herself to the sword instead of ordinary teenage girl life and its confusing expectations.

"I think that's a tragic mistake." Keitaro said with sincerity as he sipped his tea.

"What makes you say that?" Motoko demanded somewhat defensively, her own tea held close.

"Of course life is going to be confusing and awkward," Keitaro said softly as he looked into his teacup, "You'll make mistakes, embarrass yourself, and struggle through all sorts of things..."

He smiled, looking up at her with those honest brown eyes, "But if you don't take the chance to live, you'll never know all the special moments life has to offer you. Here I am, crossing cities to help my grandmother, and I'm lucky enough to have met a beautiful girl for doing so."

Motoko felt her face flush hotly, a blush that rose from her neckline to her forehead. Never, had any male ever called her beautiful. There had always been some worry in her teenage heart that she was too 'manly' for others to notice her, but the sincerity in Urashima's statement made her stomach flip flop.

How often would she encounter a male that was so responsible? Or that could be trusted to act as selflessly as this one had done? The Urashima family had been kind to her when she sought space from the conflict with her sister, and here was their grandson working himself sore for his grandmother who was not even present. He was ordinary, outwardly unremarkable, but on the inside he was exactly the sort of male she thought one should be.

The blush burned, and for the first time in her teenage life, Motoko wanted.

"Thank you, Urashima-kun."

Keitaro looked up at the watery response, and felt his throat seize up at the sight of the blushing raven-haired kendo girl. He'd rarely had the chance to chat with any girls one on one, and being shy and awkward as a child had left him lonely; He found himself enjoying the teenage swordswoman's company, at peace for the first time since the accident. The curtain of her silky black hair framed her pale face, long lashes demure as she swirled her own teacup. The warm splash of color in her cheeks caught the eye, and the young Urashima couldn't help but look on wordlessly.

I was wrong, this is the most beautiful scene I could sketch.

"You're welcome, Aoyama-chan."

They sat there, in the quiet sanctuary of Aunt Haruka's teashop for some time. Motes of dust floated lazily through the air, and the sunlight of the daytime warmed the interior with a golden haze that made it seem as if time had stopped. For that short while, the two teenagers were perfectly at ease, enjoying the other's company. Wind chimes tinkled, as the young ones warmed to one another.

"So you're a big Kurosawa fan then?"

"Yes, Seven Samurai was a favorite film of mine as a child."

"Ha ha, did you play at fighting off bandits with sticks like I did?"

"Yes! Oh goodness, I got in so much trouble for tearing my Obi during one such game. Mou, it's embarrassing looking back..."

"Oh I did worse, trust me. I took one of my dad's black shirts and spent all night in a 'ninja fort' I made after a Shadow Warriors marathon. I was grounded for a week."

"You watched Sonny Chiba too, Urashima-kun?"

"Yeah! I used to pretend granny Hina was like him, secretly a shinobi running the bath house, ha ha ha!"

"Oh my goodness, I could see that being true! Ha ha ha!"

"Well, aren't you two getting along famously."

The drawl startled the two teenagers, who looked up to the entrance of the teahouse to find Haruka Urashima leaning against the doorframe with a bemused smile framing one of her usual cigarettes. Keitaro and Motoko must have noticed how close they had been sitting together, and with some embarrassment they abruptly slid a tad further apart.

"Auntie Haruka! It's good to see yo-" WHAP

"Don't call me auntie, It makes me sound old," The Urashima woman growled as she put away the fan she'd produced on a whim.

"W-welcome back Haruka-san." Motoko was certainly not bashful having been caught alone with a boy.

"Hello Motoko, I see you've been keeping my Cousin occupied." The knowing smirk on the older woman's face brought Motoko's blush back full force.

"It's not like that Haruka," Keitaro insisted as he rubbed the bump on his head, "She was nice enough to show me what needed to be fixed around Hinata Sou. I took care of the repairs granny needed, wasn't that why she sent me a letter to come down?"

Haruka stared blankly at her nephew, and then face faulted.

"Figures, the old bat is up to her usual schemes..."

The pretty smoker sighed, and fished a sheaf of papers from her purse.

"I guess it was too generous thinking she'd have told you before dragging you down here, but here's the real reason, Kei. I picked up the fax on my way out of the airport if you can believe it. Clever old bat..."

The boy accepted the fax, and adjusted his wire-frame glasses. Motoko looked on curiously as she stood next to him.

"Land Property deeds? What's this supposed to be?"

Haruka snapped her lighter shut as the cigarette caught, and inhaled the comforting draw of nicotine.

"Isn't it obvious? She's giving you Hinata Sou, with you as the new manager."

Keitaro stared in absolute disbelief, before turning to look at Motoko for some hint of a punchline, only to find her face an equal display of shock.

"You should go meet your tenants," Haruka chuckled, "Something tells me you're going to have your hands full."

---

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"N-narusegawa, I-"

"NO! This is a girl's dorm! We can't have a male living here! It's not right!"

Motoko and Haruka had escorted the abruptly-new manager to the Hinata House's lobby, where they had called a meeting of the tenants. While the girls had been cautiously polite, the bombshell announcement had been met with mixed results.

Naru Narusegawa had been the most vocal opposition to the appointment. Studying for university entrance exams herself, the pretty 17 year old had reacted with a volcanic temper at the notion a man would be acting as the landlord for their home. Keitaro could only assume she hadn't the best encounters with men before.

Mitsune "Kitsune" Konno, was a proverbial fox in almost every sense of the word, and the same age as Keitaro. The slit-eyed beauty made Keitaro decidedly uncomfortable with the way she seemed to size him up. A heavy drinker and gambler, the boy wondered how she managed to stay on top of her finances. He gulped as a wink from her planted the suspicion she wouldn't be afraid to use her 'assets' to get away with avoiding the rent.

Kaolla Suu was a foreign girl of 13, with a sunny disposition and a strange affinity for tinkering that defied the imagination. She didn't seem to understand the term 'manager,' but was excited all the same for a new playmate. Keitaro could have sworn he saw military-grade missiles strapped to some floating drone toy she built, but surely the sweet kid munching a banana wouldn't do something like that...right?

Maehara Shinobu was the youngest of the tenants, and appeared shy enough to blend into the wallpaper if she could. The way she looked at him like a lost kitten made his heart break, and he further couldn't believe she was often the one handling laundry and cooking for the dorm!

The tenant he had already met, Motoko Aoyama, was largely silent during the introduction. Keitaro was glad at least she wasn't shouting at him, he found that he very much liked the 15 year old swordswoman and didn't want to give her any reason to doubt him. She looked on quietly at the meeting with her sword cradled in her crossed arms.

"I have no objection to him being the manager." Motoko spoke suddenly, throwing off Naru's tirade and plunging the lobby into silence.

It must have been out of character, because Keitaro saw the residents looking at the kendo girl as if she had sprouted wings. Motoko looked slightly uncomfortable under the room's scrutiny.

"I watched him repair and clean the dormitory today simply because Hina-obaasan had asked him to come. He was perfectly honorable during the time he was with me. As long as we agree when he cannot enter the baths as we bathe and what other concessions we require for privacy, I see no reason Urashima-kun cannot stay as the manager."

"Ohhhh my~"

The wide-eyed Kitsune's drawl caught the room's attention.

"Urashima-kun is it? Awww, never would have guessed a boy would get in your good graces, Motoko-chan!" She cooed at the rapidly blushing kendo girl.

"Kitsune..." Narusegawa ground out, "This isn't the time for your games."

"It's not like you have another place lined up, Kei," Haruka exhaled smoke from her perch by the open window.

"You can run upkeep around the inn while you're finishing your studies. Come to think of it, you should be in your second year at Tokyo U, shouldn't you?"

There was a moment of silence as Keitaro scratched the back of his head.

"TOKYO U?!"

The shouts from several of the girls caught the new manager off guard. Motoko blinked as she saw him try to stammer the truth while the girls ran with that line of thought.

"Oh wow suga, you going into law? Gonna be some big-shot lawyer?" Kitsune's eyes were twinkling mischievously.

"You must be so smart to get in there! Can I call you senpai?" Shinobu's puppy eyes were deadly.

"Is someone like you really a Tokyo U student?!" Naru seemed even further dismayed.

THWACK

The sound of a sheathed sword striking the floorboards cut off any further chatter. Motoko nodded at the distraught boy, who returned one of his own gratefully.

"I'm sorry everyone but you're mistaken. I'm a ronin re-taking the entrance exam for Tokyo U. While I didn't expect to be saddled with the responsibility of running this dorm, I'll do my best to keep it running smoothly. Please let me know what you need repaired and when would be a good time to come by, I'm not half bad with carpentry."

The earnest admission garnered approval from Motoko, and varying degrees of disappointment from the other tenants. It seemed the new manager's chances weren't very good until Shinobu spoke.

"Uhm, ano..." Shinobu piped up for the first time during the meeting, "If Motoko-senpai says he can be trusted, I-I believe her."

Suu was of a similar mindset, nodding energetically from beside the little cook, "Yup yups!"

"Whadd'ya know sugar? Maybe it'll be fun having a man around the place?" Kitsune's shrug seemed to deflate Narusegawa's objections somewhat.

"Well... I guess if he behaves himself it will be fine, but I don't like it!"

Mollified, the girls welcomed their new manager as one with a varied cheer.

"Welcome to Hinata Sou!"

---

The daily life around the Hinata dorm became much more lively.

Narusegawa didn't trust Keitaro at all, and generally regarded him as a ronin idiot. While she was certainly beautiful, Keitaro found himself privately glad she would ignore him since her temper was something to behold.

Kitsune, sure enough, didn't waste time using her feminine wiles to wring extensions on her rent from the hapless boy, who had never before had to put up with that kind of seductive assault. Only strategic withdrawls or the timely arrival of another tenant saved him from severe nosebleeds.

After almost getting lost in an artificial jungle while meeting the resident foreigner, Keitaro resolved that Kaolla Suu was someone out of this world. As long as she was safe and refrained from blowing up too much drywall, he'd leave her to her own devices.

Shinobu might have been one of the most delicate girls Keitaro had ever met. The poor girl would dissolve into a shy withdrawal when he was around, which he attributed to her age. None the less, he refused to let such a young girl shoulder so much responsibility, and thus convinced her to only cook three nights of the week while he handled the rest. It wouldn't do for her grades to slip while she was working too hard.

The thought of the raven haired tenant put a smile on his face.

Since his impromptu swearing-in, the 19 year old boy always looked forward to seeing her during the day. They'd run into each other as she was practicing morning kata while he hung out laundry, they took the same tram as she left for high school and he went downtown to pick up groceries, and dozens of other little moments through out the daily errands around the dorm.

As the days went by, the two found themselves drawn to each other.

Keitaro found himself drawn to the slender kendo girl, looking to her as she entered a room, relishing the chances he had to talk with her. The way her silky hair sifted in the daylight held his gaze almost as surely as her hazel-grey eyes did.

The boy blushed as he caught himself daydreaming and scribbled into his math practice book.

They were only 4 years apart, but he couldn't get her out of his mind. Where before he had fantasized about some faceless pretty thing as his girlfriend in the wayward dreams young men are susceptible to, now his thoughts were occupied by the slim, tall swordswoman with a smile that could melt ice.

He thought idly for a moment of life together, walking hand in hand to kung fu films, cooking dinner together, or hugging her from behind as she played with their son and daughter. An elegant, strong woman that he'd hold in his arms and-

Keitaro's chin slipped off his hand, and he did a double take as he saw he had sketched a scene of himself and Motoko kissing. He hastily erased the sacriligious image with his face on fire.

Why couldn't he get her out of his head?!

---

Why can't I get him out of my head?!

Motoko Aoyama was having trouble resuming her daily routine with the new manager in Hinata Sou.

It was like a fateful meeting out of one of the sordid romance novels (that she did not keep hidden under the corner of her futon!) in which the male and female protagonists met by chance and quickly fell in love.

She simply happened to chance upon the Urashima grandson on her way home, and witnessed his endearing drive to help his family, followed by their pleasant chat in the empty tea shop. Over and over, she saw the shy young man care for the tenants with nary a complaint and a...cute bashfulness when it came to anything indecent. She could see now he was hopelessly inexperienced with women, and yet the fact he was not a pervert or a womanizer put her at ease.

She caught herself anticipating when she would run into the manager. She would stand just a smidgen straighter, almost preening when she saw his eyes drawn to her long hair (her only feminine indulgence as a warrior). He always worked hard, and treated her politely when they had chances to chat that just so happened to be when the others weren't looking. He was somewhat meek, yes, but the proud Aoyama side of her was delighted with the honesty and honor the ordinary seeming boy showed with his everyday actions.

Motoko blushed as she caught herself idly playing with a lock of her hair.

They were only 4 years apart. Girls were supposed to like men slightly older than them, right? She lamented momentarily that she was so hopelessly inexperienced in regards to gossip about the opposite sex, unlike so many of her classmates. What kind of boy would be interested in a mannish, frigid warrior that was usually taller than them?

And yet...

He called her beautiful.

Her heart sang at the recognition. It felt wonderful, to be seen so for who she was; Motoko the swordswoman, beautiful to the hardworking stranger who rode in on his steed that morning. Pressing his bare chest against the tender wrappings about her own breasts, stomachs flush as their breath became heated. His hands rough from the day's labor, gently cupping her chin as he leaned in to-

The kendoka blinked, wiping the corner of her mouth about to drool with dignified horror as she looked down to find she had been scrawling a cheesy romance into the pages of her history homework. With a very undignified squawk, the girl ripped the page free and sliced it furiously out of the air into confetti.

Motoko groaned and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Damn you Urashima-kun..."

---

Keitaro's first accident happened when Motoko was on her way to the baths.

She saw the manager wave to her as he was fixing a sliding door for room 202. Again, he had that peculiar limp in his actions, that suggested something was wrong. It was when she saw him falter and stumble into her while reaching up that her suspicions were confirmed.

The pulsing vein in her forehead at his grasping a handful of her bathrobe and stammered apology were controlled albeit barely.

"Urashima-kun..."

"I-Im sorry Aoyama-chan! I didn't- the door, you see-"

"Enough."

The boy pulled away his fingers from in front of his glasses only after he was sure she had covered herself up once more. There was a mortified look on his face, but also one of...shame?

"Urashima-kun, tell me the truth," She regarded the boy sprawled on the floor cooly with her hands on her hips, "Do you have a crippling injury?"

When his face went ashen, she knew she had been right. The sadness in his eyes made her wish she had not.

"I guess you can tell, heh heh... being a martial artist, you must see it easily." Keitaro slowly got back to his feet.

"When I was a child, I pushed my sister out of the way of a drunk driver. When I woke up in the hospital, they told me I would never have feeling in some of my nerves ever again."

He smiled thinly as the light of understanding dawned in Motoko's eyes.

"I spent every day training my body to walk again, to pick things up, hold them steady. The doctors said it was almost a medical miracle. Through hard work alone I'm able to live like a normal person, most of the time."

He chuckled bitterly as he looked at his shaking hand, "Sometimes the feeling wavers, and the result is I'm constantly clumsy. I trip over nothing, drop things...heck, the only thing that ever makes me feel like I can leave it all behind is the feeling of freedom through my motorcycle."

He looked up at the kendo girl with a long standing exhaustion in his eyes.

"I'm broken, but I still get the job done."

"That's not true!"

The vehemence in Motoko's replay caught Keitaro off guard.

"Why do we fall, Urashima-kun?" Her eyes sparkled in the lighting of the corridor.

He stared at her, as she took his shaking hand gently in hers. "Why?"

"So we can learn to pick ourselves up."

The shaking in his hand stilled, and Motoko's graceful fingers stroked his own worn ones.

"My sister once told me that, when I was very little. I don't think you're broken at all, I think you're strong for picking yourself up."

Keitaro stared at their joined hands, and then into Motoko's eyes as the two stood closely in the quiet hallways. He swallowed, emotions wild, and smiled.

"Thank you, Motoko-chan."

The raven haired girl smiled back, squeezing his hand.

"You're welcome, Keitaro-kun."

---

One morning, she asked him.

"Have you ever trained in martial arts, Keitaro-kun?"

The young manager paused as he was hanging up the laundry. White sheets billowed gently in the morning breeze, on the rooftop veranda where Motoko often practiced her katas.

"I had a little experience in the family style when I was younger, but my nerves made me too clumsy to be any real good at it. Why?"

The kendoka felt an unfamiliar sensation of butterflies in her stomach. She had thought over her proposal the night before, and summoned up her courage as she looked Urashima in the eye.

"Would you care to join me for training in the mornings?"

A leaf tumbled through the air. The resident landlord blinked at the pretty black haired swordswoman speaking to him, caught off guard.

"I... I'm practically untrained Motoko-chan, wouldn't you be wasting your time?"

"Not at all, I often instructed younger acolytes in the Shinmei-ryu."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to be the reason your skills degraded..."

"I would not have offered if I did not believe I could continue my own training."

Hazel-grey eyes looked him over, questioning. There was a more subtle, personal reason the swordswoman came to him with the proposal that day.

The young man adjusted his glasses, and smiled at her.

"Alright. If you're sure, I'd be honored to train with you in the mornings. I look forward to being your student."

Her heart warmed as she bowed in return to his own.

He's willing to listen to me, to accept me as a teacher. He's not a male too proud to bend to a woman...

The thought pleased her.

Handing a spare bokken to the ronin, Motoko fell into the comfortable routine of drilling a new student's form, beginning with the grip and the basic stance for a cut.

The practice of instruction called upon her own expertise, and made her feel a little more at home than she had for so many months. Since leaving her family's ancestral dojo, the girl didn't want to admit she was homesick, but she had felt isolated without the morning instruction from Shinmei masters, the sparring across hardwood floors, and the pleasant surroundings of the mountains in which her family home dwelt.

Standing there, with Urashima battling his nerve damage in rapt attention, she felt her heart swell at the familiar roles of teacher and student reminding her of home.

The young Aoyama raised her wooden sword with the Urashima heir's, and sliced it down with a cry.

The sun broke through the whisps of white cloud overhead, bathing the roof in light.

---

Time passed, and the seasons changed.

The other girls had begun to notice right away that something was different between the resident swordswoman and their manager. Hearing them privately refer to each other by their first names brought smiles to their faces. Kitsune teased Motoko mercilessly, who responded only with a splash of color on her cheeks and dignified silence. Naru grudgingly accepted Keitaro was a hard working manager, although on more than one occasion she had chased him around the halls with a broom after an unfortunately lewd accident. Motoko never spoke a word about Keitaro's admission regarding his injury, to which he was grateful; and she understood the nature of whatever accidents he may have, never holding it against his character.

Shinobu surprisingly developed an adorable crush on her senpai, which resulted in an ongoing conflict on her end against Motoko, which could be characterized as a kitten mewling at a tigress that simply ignored her.

The residents of Hinata Sou went on with their lives. Each striving for academics, athletics, fortune in love or lottery, and every other wish however big and small.

The new year came in what felt like no time at all, and Motoko was volunteering once more as a shrine maiden at their locale.

The birds sang in the early morning, as dawn paved the sky with a startling brush of lavender against the ink of retreating night. Amber light bathed the surroundings, and the kendo girl shivered a touch as the slight chill of the new day bit through her miko apparel. On her way to the shrine, she slipped on her sandals and slid open the Hinata's main doors.

The feeling of a coat draped about her shoulders made her pause, and she turned to see her resident manager slipping on his own shoes alongside her.

"Morning, Motoko-chan."

She let slip a little smile, and tugged the wool of his double-breasted coat tighter about her shoulders.

"Good Morning, Keitaro-kun."

They walked together in comfortable silence. They'd long ago stopped refusing the other's kindness when some small favor or errand popped up. This morning Keitaro had woken up early to come help her prepare for the New Years crowds that would soon arrive for their fortunes and prayers.

Motoko had come to adore these moments. The feminine part of her soul warmed to Keitaro's selfless acts, never once with ulterior motive. She began to see every ideal she ever daydreamed about reflected in the ordinary young man, just as she wished a man should be.

Keitaro himself felt a peace he hadn't known for most of his teenage life. Struggling with the awkwardness of puberty, the expectations of his family and the unlucky nature of his injury, he had grown up starved of simple affection that he so relished in the time he spent with his favorite raven haired tenant. He breathed deep, smelling the crisp air of the morning, and a faint trace of a familiar cherry blossom shampoo.

Once at the shrine, Motoko graciously thanked Keitaro as she hung up the coat he had given her, and he got to work stacking the fortune crates while she began the drawn out ceremony of preparing for the new year.

Drum beats echoed in the still air.

A maiden called, welcoming the spirits, and a branch wet with dew was shaken.

Soon enough, the crowds began to mill about the torii gates, and Motoko was occupied with her role as a miko.

The morning passed, and during a lull she paused to drink some water, and decided to draw her own fortune for the new year. Her hand bumped another's, and she was somehow unsurprised to find Keitaro once again had crossed her path.

"Hello," Her hazel-grey eyes found his brown ones, unwavering.

"I put in enough for us both," Keitaro said gently, "Let's have a good year, Motoko-chan."

She nodded. The two of them drew their talismans, and read quietly side by side.

"Hmm, what do you know..." Keitaro murmured.

*A Great Trial*

You've had an encounter with fate.

You will be tested, and your future will depend on your actions.

"That sounds serious," He uttered quietly, "Motoko-chan, how is yours?"

The swordswoman read her own talisman, running her thumbs over the textured paper.

*Love Charm*

You will encounter your soulmate.

The person will carry you through a difficult time.

The kendo girl closed her eyes and held the talisman to her chest, before slipping it into the confines of her hakama.

"I shall keep this one a secret, Keitaro-kun." Motoko replied with a coy tone.

They sat together on a bench, watching the crowds mill about in the daylight. The gentle rush of the wind in the leaves comforting them.

"How are you enjoying life at Hinata Sou?" Motoko asked, turning to him.

Keitaro rubbed the back of his head.

"I like it very much. I find the work enjoyable, and my studies have gone well. Truth be told I was lonely before I came."

He looked at her.

"What are you hoping for in the new year?"

Motoko leaned back, noticing once more she was a slight taller than Urashima.

"Someday, I want the confidence to face my sister again. I want to do well in my schooling, and take on the role of heiress of the Shinmei-ryu with honor."

Keitaro exhaled slowly.

"That's a lot to live up to, but it can't be any more crazy than getting into Tokyo U."

He started to laugh, and her clear bell-like laughter soon joined him. The 19 year old ronin and the 15 year old sword fighter found themselves once more looking into each other's eyes.

"I'm thankful too, for all the failure and hardship that I've been through till now." Keitaro said quietly.

Motoko cocked her head a slight, inquiring.

"Because it made me who I am, and it brought me to you."

The kendo girl turned her head, feeling a warmth beneath her eyelashes.

There in the dappled shadows of tree and torii, the boy's hand clasped the girl's, and she squeezed back.

---

"Are you busy this afternoon?"

Motoko halted as she swept the front entry. All the residents occasionally shared a duty around the dormitory, such as laundry or cleaning. This morning the kendoka was using a long handled broom to sweep errant leaves from the front of Hinata Sou. She tilted her head, and regarded her occasional older student.

"I am not, why do you ask?"
Keitaro rubbed the back of his head in his nervous tic.

Here it goes. Don't screw this up!

He took a deep breath, pulling out two slips of paper from his jeans pocket.

"There's a kung fu movie playing in town tonight, I thought you might like to come see it with me."

Motoko's eyes widened.

"It's a comedy, but I think you'll still like it! If you liked Shaolin Soccer then this one should also-"

"Keitaro-kun..."

The ronin paused, his cheeks tinged from his nervous rambling.

"Yes."

The boy stared, frozen for a moment. Then a beaming smile crossed his face, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he tugged at his sweater collar in relief.

"Oh! Great! I'm... okay! I'll see you around five? So we can..."

The boy coughed, and took a moment to compose himself.

"See you at five, Motoko-chan."

"Of course, Keitaro-kun."

The manager walked away with a forced nonchalance, a very slight skip in his step.

As Motoko turned back to dutifully sweeping the entryway, Shinobu happened to come across her on her way home from a friend's house.

"Hello, Motoko-senpai! You look really happy, did something happen?"

The raven haired girl hummed to herself, lost in thought with a beautiful smile on her face and a blush on her cheeks. She spun gracefully on the cobblestones, with Shinobu looking on curiously.

---

They stepped off the tram, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes.

"That was absolutely ridiculous, Keitaro-kun!"

"Ah ha ha, I feel I'm never going to take the name Betty seriously again!"

"Oh spirits, I know a grandmaster that looks like master Chang, how will I ever resist laughing at him now?"

Motoko held her stomach, sore from so much laughter she had been unused to having since she had been a child. It felt good, and the smile on her face shone.

She was wearing her long school skirt, matched with a navy blouse and a cream colored coat. The girl would never admit she had experienced the same panic preparing for her... date that countless other girls had throughout time, but she felt that what she scrambled together in her rather spartan closet had made an acceptable result. Tying her long hair into a ponytail had evidently helped, by the self-satisfied warmth she felt when Urashima's eyes widened.

Keitaro had cleaned up well.

A grey button up shirt with sleeves rolled up, and a black sweater vest over khaki trousers gave him a more mature look that the young Aoyama approved of.

It was late by the time the two crossed the lamp light illuminated entry to Hinata Sou. The stars were brilliant against a cloudless night sky, and neither of the teens was ready to let the night end just yet.

"Would you like to come to the roof?" Keitaro asked softly.

"Yes," Motoko answered, looking back at him warmly.

They walked quietly through the halls as the sound of Kitsune's stereo thumped and Suu could be heard watching anime in the lobby. Seizing a blanket from a closet, the two of them came to the outdoor veranda that they often trained on in the mornings.

With the setting of the sun, darkness fell with silence about the Sou. A deep indigo colored the scenery, and fireflies dances among the tree leaves reaching up towards the sky.

"Hotaru..." Motoko remarked quietly, holding out her hand as one such mote of light drifted lazily about it.

Keitaro spread the blanket, and the pair lay down staring up at the night sky.

Further away from the bustle of the city, the light of the stars shone in a fantastic painting all across the cosmos above them. The myriad constellations occupied the two teenagers as they pointed them out to each other, sharing in the effort to find as many as they could.

Keitaro breathed deep of the night time air, feeling his lungs welcome it.

"Do you ever think about the future, Motoko-chan?"

The kendoka lay amid the spill of her beautiful black hair, hands folded contentedly across her middle.

"Occasionally, Keitaro-kun."

"..."

"I never thought past getting into Tokyo U."

"Why is that?"

"It was my only goal. I just thought my life would fall into place once I got in."

"..."

"I felt much the same about my family dojo."

"Really?"

"I was brought up to be the heir, after my sister chose to get married. I felt it was my destiny to simply lead the Shinmei-ryu and nothing else."

"..."

"I think... I want a boy and a girl as children."

Glasses clicked as they were folded and put aside.

"It would be nice to have one of each."

A ribbon was unfurled, and raven hair spilled out freely.

"I would like a daughter to teach my family art to, and a son to raise into a fine young man."

"Any child with you as a mother would be raised well."

"...I wouldn't want to do it alone..."

"...you'll never be alone."

A rustle on the blanket, turning on their sides.

"I think I finally have a goal for after University..."

"As do I, after inheriting the Shinmei-ryu..."

Eyes shining, hands inched forward to intertwine shyly. The blanket tugged up and over, and the chill of the night was warded off.

Two souls, huddled together.

---

The trial came in the spring.

Keitaro was preparing for the next entrance exam, taking every last moment he could to study. Perhaps it was the lack of distractions, or mishaps, but the Hinata manager found his focus sharpened. He wanted to finally achieve the prestige of Tokyo University, and now for more than just himself.

Truthfully, all that had kept him going before had been some hazy promise he made as a child. It was not in Keitaro's nature to reneg on any oath. However, he never found a clue to who his promise girl had been, all those years ago at the inn.

Time passed, and soon the promise girl became an ideal. If he got into Tokyo U, he would find happiness; That's what he thought.

Now, he found himself drawn to the beautiful Aoyama heir living in Hinata Sou.

The foggy memory of a promise girl gave way to the raven-tressed beauty standing tall, proud of him as he graduated Tokyo University. He saw himself holding her hand as they came to her ancestral home so she could take the mantle as heir. Someday, the two of them holding tiny hands as their children walked alongside in their own little hakamas.

The dream brought a smile to his face.

It was one afternoon that both he and Motoko were returning to Hinata Sou after an errand picking up some groceries for the week. It wasn't a chore that required two people, but oddly enough the kendoka found reason to accompany him with one of those elegant smiles he couldn't refuse.

He should have known something was wrong when her hackles raised, and she dropped the bags she carried with a cry.

"SISTER!"

"Motoko-han, long time no see." The gentle words of a beautiful woman seated in the Hinata lobby caught Keitaro off guard. The woman was clearly a relative, and he could scarcely understand what had Motoko so frightened.

"S-sister...why are you here?" The younger Aoyama looked to be caught between fleeing out the door and being rooted to the spot. Keitaro gently set his own bags down, never leaving her side.

Tsuruko Aoyama.

The eldest sister of the Aoyama family, and the finest swordsmistress the clan had produced in over 100 years.

She was the very vision of a Yamato Nadeshiko, the traditional wife. A sheathed sword similar to Motoko's, and a beautiful white bird perched on her shoulder. She radiated a quiet strength and aura that caught the room's attention, and suddenly Keitaro understood why Motoko struggled with her confidence before her sister. Around them, the residents chattered amicably with the beautiful stranger.

"As expected, I..." Tsuruko took a calm sip of her tea, "Came to take you back."

There was a silence, and Keitaro felt a weight settle in his gut.

No. Not like this.

"As we agreed, you will receive the dojo. I believe you've had plenty of time to prepare, Motoko-han." Tsuruko rose elegantly amongst the startled crowd of the Hinata Sou residents, and walked to her sister.

"But...sister...the assigned date hasn't arrived yet..." Motoko protested feebly, her proud posture giving way before her elder sister.

Tsuruko gave her a piercing glare that brooked no argument, and took her none-too-gently by the arm.

"Let's go." The swordmistress's honeyed words were like a knife in Motoko's stomach.

The younger Aoyama looked about wildy, panicked. Kitsune, Naru, Shinobu and Suu looked amongst each other, dismayed that their friend was being spirited away so suddenly. Keitaro clenched his fists white-knuckled, unsure if it was his place to say something.

Motoko's frightened eyes met Keitaro's and she cried out for help.

"Sister, I-"

She pulled away from her sibling and wrapped her arms around Keitaro.

"Keitaro and me, we're going to get MARRIED!"

There was the sound of breaking glass.

The faces of the Hinata Sou residents were an array of bewilderment to devastation, wordless in the face of such a bombshell.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!"

"Is that so...?" Tsuruko's face was inscrutable, before she returned to her earlier sunny disposition.

"Ah! Then I wouldn't bring you home with me!"

The residents face faulted, as Motoko trembled holding tightly to Keitaro's chest. As their minds caught up with what was happening, the two drew away a moment.

Haruka had appeared at that moment to offer Tsuruko some steamed buns, ignorant of the shenanigans ongoing.

"What's this all about?" Keitaro whispered urgently.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect her to come this early!" Motoko was distraught, moreso than the ronin had ever seen her, he gently gripped her upper arms to try and calm her down.

"Tell me."

She took a shaky breath.

"The day will come that I am expected to take over the Shinmei-ryu Dojo. That was what my sister and I agreed upon, but I'm not ready yet! My technique is not so good, and I am still in the middle of my studies, and-"

"Okay, I understand," Keitaro cut her off and smiled encouragingly, "I'll do everything I can to help you."

"Keitaro-kun..." Motoko felt her eyes water. Once more, the Urashima heir had selflessly risen to help however he could, with never a thought for himself.

In that moment of need, the kendo girl had reached out for strength, and clung to him.

"So! Keitaro-san..."

The two whirled to face the deceptively sunny Tsuruko Aoyama.

"How is your relationship with Motoko-han?"

The Urashima heir took a deep breath, and...

"That question is very appropriate to ask before marriage. Of course we're getting along very well. Every night we-"

A smack rattled his head before he turned exasperated to the red-faced girl next to him.

"Take long walks together!"

Motoko looked abashed, clearly having assumed he would suggest something...lewd.

"Keitaro, I realize it's probably not respectful of me to ask but...are you really Motoko's boyfriend?"

Something in the back of his mind screamed at him that Tsuruko knew they were lying. Despite everything, the Urashima boy took a deep breath and steeled himself. He couldn't let her down.

"Yes. We first met on a September day, in front of the Sou. I can remember that moment perfectly."

The room became quiet as the manager went on. Keitaro lost himself in the memories, and wasn't fully aware of what slipped past his lips.

"I was lost, and a tall, beautiful swordswoman found me answering granny Hina's summons. I got to know her as I worked hard repairing the old inn, and we chat together in a quiet tea house."

His eyes were far off behind his wire-frame glasses, as Motoko listened to him tell the story, a rosy dusting across her cheeks.

"She was elegant and I was clumsy. She perfected her martial arts and I fixed drywall and floorboards. She was sunlight on winter ice and long black tresses with gentle hands and warm eyes."

A pale hand reached out and intertwined with his own, and Keitaro squeezed back as she drew closer to his side.

"We grew to adore each other's company, and now I work hard every day to make it into Tokyo U so I can stand proudly beside her."

Keitaro turned his head and lost himself in Motoko's hazel-grey eyes.

"I promise I will make her happy. Your sister is in good hands."

The Hinata Sou residents didn't utter a word. The room stared with bated breath at the touching scene of the boy and girl staring into each other's eyes.

The silence was pierced by a squeal of glee from Tsuruko herself.

"Ohh~! Motoko-han has such an affectionate fiancé!"

Crimson bloomed across the younger Aoyama's face as she heard her sister coo over them.

"Ahhh, my heart is going 'doki-doki,' I simply can't take it!" The elder Aoyama wrung her hands as the other women in the room 'Awww'ed together as one.

"Keitaro-kun..." Motoko squeezed his hand.

CLAP!

"Okay!" Tsuruko had a saccharine grin, "Now you should take a bath together!"

"Eh?"

...

"At least we're safe now..."

Motoko wiped a damp hand towel across her cheek. The moon shone overhead, late as it was. The warmth of the hot springs and the ambient light of the lanterns gave the outdoor bath an otherworldly glow.

Sitting chest deep in the bath on the opposite of their pool, Keitaro faced steadfastly towards the rock garden as he tried to fight the blush dominating his face. Being inexperienced with girls was one thing, but being dropped naked in a bath with a girl he was close to was playing havoc with his nerves.

"I'll say. Your sister seems like a kind and gentle lady, but I can see why you're so rattled by her, Motoko-chan."

The kendo girl nodded morosely.

"In a hundred years there hasn't been anyone as talented as her, once she draws her sword she becomes like a demon."

She huddled her legs up to her chest in the water.

"Because I didn't have confidence in my ability to face my sister, I fled to the Hinata Sou. Now she wants me to return and take over the Dojo, but I wasn't ready, so I begged you to lie with me..."

Keitaro listened, staring up into the starry sky.

"It must have been hard for you."

Motoko nodded, placing a palm on her pale chest. She tried to quell the drumbeat of her heart, butterflies inside her driving her wild.

"Yes, but I'm glad."

Keitaro flinched as he felt smooth warmth press up against his back, and slim arms encircle him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Motoko's face was cherry-red, as she struggled with her teenage fears of men, her feelings between her sister, and her own heart beating with affection for the selfless man that pledged everything for her.

"...Because it made me who I am, and it brought me here to you."

The Urashima boy felt her trembling against him, and he gently turned to hug her close amid the steamy waters of the bath.

"Mo-chan..."

"Kei-kun..."

Dancing around their feelings, just out of reach, the two drew closer under the moonlight in their make-believe tryst. Fate is a fickle goddess, because at that moment the sound of a bucket clattering shook the two apart, looking with alarm to the bath entrance.

"A lie?"

Tsuruko's eyes took on an unearthly glint as the shadows seemed to gather about the swordsmistress.

"Those things you said...we're just to fool me?"

The wind whipped through the branches, and Motoko scrambled dripping from the hot springs for her blade. Heart hammering, she shouted for Keitaro to run.

"Out of the way! Or else you're dead!"

Keitaro jumped for the stone top, scrambling to pull on his jeans at least.

The clash of steel amid the howling wind threw his heart into panic.

"Motoko!" He screamed above the battle, trying to get to her amid the arcs of ki attacks slicing through the grounds like razors. An errant cut whipped a stream of blood from his thigh and he grit his teeth.

"Keitaro!" Motoko's harried scream held him at bay, the sight of her terrified eyes keeping him from complicating the fight. He clenched his knuckles as he could only watch helplessly.

"You're too predictable..."

It was over in a heartbeat.

Tsuruko Aoyama was living art with a blade in her hands. She effortlessly leapt over Motoko's counters and delivered a crippling hilt strike with her sword. 'Shisui' was shattered into fragments as Motoko collapsed in a shallow puddle like a puppet with its strings cut. All around, the outdoor bath bore the signs of the furious battle as sound returned amid the residents shouting in confusion.

"Did your sword fighting abilities decrease that much?" Tsuruko asked coldly as she walked away sheathing her blade.

"You lied to me. I was wrong about you..."

The elder sister half turned.

"I will not let someone like you receive the Shinmei-ryu."

Tsuruko Aoyama slipped on her Hakama as her bird came to land elegantly upon her shoulder.

"Goodbye."

The rain began to fall.

Over the curtains pitter pattering over stone and tile, choked sobs and hiccups could be heard from the epicenter of the fighting.

"I... I... been abandoned... by..."

A splash. Hurried crashing of jean-clothed legs forcing through the shallows of the bath. Keitaro forced his way through the rain and waters and tumbled to kneel next to Motoko's huddled body.

"Motoko!" He called out her name, but she wouldn't respond.

Hands shaking, Keitaro cradled her shoulders in his arms, trying to ward off the chill of the rain.

"Motoko, say something!"

The teenager shuddered, unable to stop crying. Her long black hair plastered wetly across her back and the stone top in disarray.

Keitaro looked on in anguish as she cried, and then slowly bent lower pressing his face next to hers as he whispered over the rain.

"Why do we fall?"

The sobbing halted.

A raven-tressed head shifted against his, and the slender girl turned a tear-stricken face the boy shivering with his arms around her in the downpour.

"So..."

His thumbs, worn from labor day in and day out on the inn, caressed her cheeks.

"So we..."

A boy who gave up everything to help his family, who gave himself up the instant she begged him, cradled her there in the ruin of her dreams.

"...we can learn..."

Motoko Aoyama pressed her face into the crook of Keitaro Urashima's neck, crying her young heart out as she shook in the protective warmth of his arms.

The sounds of the other residents rushing in became a dull roar, and the night faded into watercolors and noise.

---

She woke up in the still hours before the dawn.

It was too much to hope it had been a bad dream. When Motoko looked from the covers wrapped tightly about her body, she saw the fragments of 'Shisui' collected on a mantle. A sigh shuddered out of her, and she stared with puffy red eyes at the off-white of the ceiling. She didn't think she had any tears left in her to wring out.

Her sister had abandoned her, she was no longer the heir to the Shinmei-ryu. Her whole life had crashed into pieces, and she had only her own lies to thank for it.

As she turned over, Motoko became aware that her hand was caught.

Pulling the swell of covers aside, she peered off the edge of her futon.

Keitaro-kun was sleeping splayed out on the hard floor next to her, his hand firmly grasping her own.

She stared in disbelief.

Why are you so nice to me?

New tears sprung from her red rimmed eyes. She could see the exhaustion in the boy's face, his wire frame glasses folded by his head. The thigh of his jeans was stained red, from where a small cut had opened. His arms were scuffed from lifting her off the stone. Yet there he slept, by her side when she had no one else.

She thought back to the morning she had invited this male in for tea.

He was hardworking and honest. He picked up his broken body, and tried for the sake of others. She felt a stirring in her female soul at the gentle way he complimented herself, so much so that she grew to look forward to the time they spent near each other. In this moment when she needed, he stayed with her.

"Kei-kun..." Her voice was fragile in the quiet of the night.

His eyes fluttered, and he lifted his head on the cusp of wakefullness.

She lifted the covers and tugged his arm in.

Too tired to argue, Keitaro lifted his exhausted body and crawled into the futon with Motoko. She wrapped her slim arms around his chest, and felt his own cradle her close under the blankets. She pressed her face into his neck, feeling his heartbeat as their breaths joined in rhythm.

It was warm under the covers. The chill of the rain and the adrenaline rush of earlier left her drained. Motoko curled her toes as she felt Keitaro warm her body.

Whatever tomorrow might bring, she was glad she had her boy.

---

They woke up together, an overcast morning drawing a subdued light.

Motoko enjoyed the few wordless minutes they spent in the warm covers, Keitaro's hand idly sifting his fingers through her hair. They pressed on her scalp and drew away some of the tension she carried from the night before.

"Thank you for staying with me."

The ordinary ronin nodded softly.

"Of course, Mo-chan."

She blushed at the familiarity of the nickname. The two of them had been dancing around their affection for each other since they met. It was sweet, in a way, how they played their game of spending time together. All of that was dashed across the rocks as her hare-brained scheme ended in tragedy.

Still...

"I... Even if it was for a moment, I enjoyed..." Motoko gulped, the honest admission making her awfully nervous, "I enjoyed pretending we were...um..."

"Together?" Keitaro finished meekly.

The swordswoman nodded.

He looked at the ceiling, playing idly with a lock of her hair.

"I enjoyed being your husband, even for a little while."

The admission sent a new wave of red across her cheeks, and a not unwelcome thrill through her heart.

"W-well...I did not make it easy for you..."

The ronin blushed, rising to his elbows.

"So what do we do now?"
Motoko joined him, pressing the sheets to her chest to preserve some measure of modesty.

"I... I don't know. The Shinmei-ryu was my family and my life, I can't imagine a future without them."

Keitaro picked up his glasses from the floor and slipped on the wire-frames. Rising out of the covers, he began to calmly get himself dressed as if it were just another day running errands.

"I'll talk to your sister," he declared more confidently than he felt, "I don't believe that such a nice woman would cut off her only sister. There must be something she has in mind."

He smiled winningly at the kendo girl as he buttoned up a new shirt.

"Leave it to me, didn't I say you were in good hands?"

The lonely swordswoman smiled back, tilting her head.

"Yes, you did Kei-kun."

He gave her a wave, and walked out the door to face their ordeal head on.

---

"Ah~! Manager-san, I was hoping to run into you."

The cheerful greeting wasn't quite what Keitaro was expecting. Anything from being skewered to frosty silence was in his realm of imagination, but the beauty sitting on a bench with a can of milk tea and her white bird perched on her shoulder didn't seem at all like a fearsome warrior that just excommunicated her sister.

"You're really not what I expected, Tsuruko-san."

Her eyes twinkled.

"Aren't all women entitled to some mystery? Hmm?"

He sighed, taking a seat next to her.

"I'm here about Motoko-chan."

"Of course you are."

"I haven't known you very long, but I like to think I'm a fair judge of character.

"I suppose a landlord must be, ne?"

"I'm guessing this is some sisterly test, and you're not really kicking her out of the family, are you?"

Pools of hazel regarded brown with a sharp glint.

"Why do you think that?"

The young ronin adjusted his glasses.

"You must have known all along that your sister was terrified of taking on such a serious role so soon, let alone our awful performance as an unannounced couple."

The elder Aoyama tilted her head.

"I thought you made a very sweet couple."

Tsuruko finished her drink and placed it in the bin next to the bench. The sun came out, and she took a generous breath of the clear morning air.

"Not as crisp as the mountains, but I can see why Motoko-han enjoys her student life here."

Keitaro remained silent.

"I love my little sister, Keitaro-san. Never doubt that. Do you perhaps know the circumstances around her living here in Hinata Sou?"

"Somewhat, she told me about her struggles living up to you in the Shinmei-ryu arts."

Tsuruko showed the first indication of surprise the young man had ever seen on her elegant features.

"My, I didn't expect her to confide such worries to a male. You know she hated all men when she left our family dojo not long ago?"

Keitaro chuckled, kicking at a pebble.

"Yes. She was a touch hostile when I first showed up, but I can't say I've had much experience with women, so her suspicions I was a pervert didn't strike me as that out of the ordinary."

"And what changed?"

"Well..." he thought back to that morning of dust motes floating lazily through a quiet tea room, "We just talked to each other, and found a lot in common."

Tsuruko smiled wistfully.

"Oh Motoko-han, you're learning just fine..."

"Hmm?"

"Oh pay me no mind, Manager-san."

The elder Aoyama coughed, composing herself.

"As I was saying earlier, Motoko-han was a brilliant student of our martial art. She constantly felt the need to compare herself to me, however, and her skills began to suffer as she lost sight of inner peace."

The swordsmistress sighed, worry creasing her brow.

"It may be hard to understand for those not devoted to martial arts, but Motoko-han became fixated on living up to my reputation, instead of improving at her own pace. Things were complicated when I got married, and she saw my husband and I in a rather intimate situation."

Keitaro's eye twitched. Unbidden, his imagination ran wild. What could have traumatized Motoko that she had walked in on? Could it be she saw them-"

"We were kissing, you see..." Tsuruko blushed as she hid her face bashfully.

Keitaro face faulted.

"When I stepped aside from inheriting the Dojo, Motoko-han believed it was the male influence in my life that caused me to do so. Because I, her teacher and role model, retired after I was married, Motoko-han lost sight of her goals and became hateful towards males and inflexible towards herself, though I think part of it was simply her embarrassment seeing my husband and I kissing."

Tsuruko looked once more to the ronin next to her on the bench.

"Which is why I hoped her time alone at Hinata Sou would allow her to mellow out and grow as a person. I want my sister to become a proud swordsman without the cloud of my achievements hanging over her head, and to know her own young love without the hang ups she carried at our family dojo."

In that moment, Keitaro saw the swordsmistress as a very thoughtful, caring sister underneath her outward composure.

"Can you blame me for trying to save her many years of frustration?"

He was quiet, and then finally pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"I think I understand, Tsuruko-san."

"I'm glad Urashima-san. So, may I ask you to aid me in my intervention with my sister?"

"Eh?"

"Can you and Motoko defeat me together?"

The wind blew a solitary newspaper across the deserted sidewalk.

"W-whaaa...?" Keitaro's brain stopped.

"For my sister to become a true swordswoman, she has to beat me to overcome her insecurities. As long as her hang ups remain, there's no way for her to grow as a woman."

The black haired beauty seized up Keitaro's hands with excitement.

"That's why I want you to help me, Urashima-san. And if you two cannot overcome me together..."

A sparkle entered the Aoyama's eyes and a blush dusted her cheeks in a manner that was awfully familiar.

"Then you should take responsibility for the lie you abetted and marry my little sister, to help her live life as an ordinary girl. Your choice... cooperate to defeat me, or marry her~!"

"Waaaah! Ts-tsuruko-san! How can you just shotgun wed your little sister off to someone like me?!" Keitaro pulled back as the older kendoka stroked his cheek.

"Oh, I think you'd make a fine husband for my sister. It's impossible to not see how much you two care about each other."

The ronin's face lit up crimson.

"Ahhhh... it's really that obvious?"

The swordsmistress nodded.

"So tell me, Manager-san, what are your intentions towards my sister?"

Keitaro felt a nervous shiver roll down his spine as the beautiful Tsuruko began her big sister interrogation routine.

---

They had a plan moving forward, and with a new goal in mind, Motoko became a revitalized person.

Once more clad in her white and red hakama, the stern faced kendo girl threw herself back into a doubled training routine in preparation of facing her sister.

The blade she carried before, 'Shisui', was shattered beyond repair. It was Keitaro who found her a new sword.

The Hina Blade.

A black katana that was held in storage, something granny Hina had long ago put away. The young manager thought it was strange he had to tear off a few little paper talismans before lifting it from the dusty closet.

Motoko was more than a little alarmed he had torn off the talismans.

The blade apparently held some terrible evil that the Urashima clan had long ago sealed away. Had any other blade they could get their hands on stand up to Tsuruko's sword they would have opted for it, but the Hina blade would have to do.

The end of the week loomed, and their final duel with Tsuruko at the Aoyama grounds in Kyoto awaited them.

Motoko was meditating on the roof of the Sou, when Keitaro approached her with two helmets.

"C'mon, there's some place I want to take you."

He led her outside the front entrance, to where his motorcycle was parked. She climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his warm midsection. Keitaro hit the kickstart, and revved his engine into gear. The thrum of the motorcycle filled the air, and with a twist of his wrist the ronin peeled them out of the lot.

The early morning descended on the Tokyo cityside. A watercolor of amber shone through the deep blue of the retreating night, stars twinkling high above. The ever present lights of the city reached above the horizon against a chiaroscuro of the buildings framing their little corner of the world.

Neon lights and pedestrians flashed by as the bike carried them down the streets. Motoko felt her heartbeat in tune with his, as she rest her helmeted head on his back.

Soon enough, they arrived at the destination Keitaro intended.

It was the shrine Motoko still volunteered with as a miko. This early, on a nondescript day, there was nary a soul wandering the torii gates or the shrine among the silent trees.

Keitaro propped his motorcycle, and took Motoko's hand in his.

"I thought we should pray together, for the future." He said solemnly.

Once more, the young Aoyama's heart swelled in affection for the man next to her.

Bowing their heads in prayer, incense burning in the shrine, the two of them palmed their hands in silence.

What private thoughts the two bared before the gods, they kept secret. Some things are meant to be left unsaid. When the two of them walked out of the holy site, the did so lighter in spirit as their worries seemed dimmed.

Leaves twirled in the warm Japanese breeze.

They held hands as they stepped down the stone stairway, lined by windswept grass and cedars. There was meaning in every rub of a thumb over a knuckle, an errant glance and smile. Even with the looming trial, the two teenage hearts were at peace.

Once more upon his motorcycle, Keitaro and Motoko rode through the city as it slowly woke up for the day ahead.

The final stop was unusual, in that the ronin chose to pull up to Haruka's teahouse instead of circling to the dormitory. Motoko looked questioningly at him, but said nothing when she saw the determined expression on his normally placid face.

"Tomorrow's the day." Urashima said solemnly.

Motoko lowered her eyes, "Thank you for standing by my side, Kei-kun."

"My pleasure, there's nothing that would keep me away."

"What will you do afterwards?" The unspoken if hung in the air, whether or not they lost.

He smiled as they crossed the threshold of the teahouse, "That depends, I might work on renovating the annex like I've been meaning to."

"Do you have time for that with your studies Ke-"

Motoko's face froze, eyes wide as she came to realize just what tomorrow meant for the boy next to her. Her lip quivered as he nonchalantly raised the blinds, bathing the quiet tea room in the pastel gold of the morning.

"Your entrance exam is tomorrow."

"Yes."

"You knew."

"I did, it's not important now."

"How can it not be important?!"

Motoko was furious at herself for being so selfish as to not consider the needs of the man who'd helped her so much. She glared in disbelief as he calmly put on a kettle and drew two cups for them to share.

"You're just going to give up on your dream? Just because I have this silly fight with my sibling? Why?! Why do y-you just give and give and give and never-"

"Mo-chan..."

"NO! I can't stand it! You don't deserve this! After working so hard for your future-"

He gently clasped her upper arms, cutting off her tirade with a finger on the swell of her lips. Keitaro's eyes were worn, heavy with the weight of responsibility he'd shouldered since managing the Hinata Sou, and with this latest trial, but still the deep brown warmly held her own gaze.

"My future is right here."

They rested their forheads against each other. Eyes closed, basking in the presence of the one closest to their heart. Motes of dust spun through the air currents of the teashop, the scent of oolong and the lingering whisper of autumn days sheltered them.

"I don't know what tomorrow might bring," Keitaro said slowly while he stepped back, "But I know that we can make our own choices and shape our own lives."

The ronin's hand shook as he adjusted his glasses.

"It feels like fate brought us together, and whatever fate might have in store for us tomorrow, I want to meet it together on our terms..."

Brown eyes met hazel-grey.

"...because I love you, Motoko Aoyama."

Her heart leapt into her throat. The kendo princess couldn't stop the tears that spilled from her disbelieving eyes, hand clasped to her chest as she watched her most precious dream come true.

He knelt on the floor before her.

"Will you marry me?"

In his hands he opened a small velvet box, with a golden band and a small round diamond whose faucets shone like starlight.

Motoko sank to her knees, biting her lip as her heart sang so freely she thought it would burst.

From the lonely life she walked to this very moment, the boy in front of her had come like a summer wind into her life and melted the ice around her heart. Finally, she understood what brought the radiant smile to her sister's face when her idol found something more important than the way of the blade alone...

It was love.

With shaking hands, the young kendoka held his and answered.

The adoring look in her tearful eyes said yes.

The whisper of her breath on his face said yes.

The touch of her lips on his said yes.

They kissed in the light of the teashop where fate had brought them together on that summer day. Two souls that fit together in perfect harmony, in their small corner of the world.

She laughed, feeling happy tears arc down her cheeks as he gently slipped the ring onto her finger.

"I love you too, Keitaro Urashima."

---

When Tsuruko saw them arrive, she did not recognize the pair.

Gone was the nervous, flighty tension between the two; Her sister's nervous manner in her presence, the hidden injury trembling in Urashima's limbs.

Motoko-han's eyes stared into her own unafraid. Raven locks billowed in the wind, as she held a forbidding black katana with the Urashima crest. The young man next to her looked on from behind his unremarkable wire-frames, calm and prepared.

And that flash on her finger, could it be-?

"Ane-ue!" Motoko's challenge rang in the chill of the Kyoto air alongside the rasp of steel being drawn.

The elder Aoyama smiled, and drew her own sword in reply.

The battle was fearsome.

For the first time in years, Tsuruko faced a challenge that strained her as she hadn't felt for ages. The swordswoman that clashed blades with her did not cringe beneath her battle frenzy, nor did she panic amid the techniques smashing ki energy into the rock, from the most estoric teachings of the Shinmei-ryu.

This younger sister of hers was sunlight on steel in the winter ice. Unyielding and radiant.

The fight between them alone might well have gone either way, so well were the two sisters matched.

But they were not alone.

By whatever twist of fate, as Urashima leapt time and time again into the fight so many levels above his caliber, he tripped.

Flailing almost slowly through the air, the ronin grasped instinctively to halt his fall, and happened to catch the edge of Tsuruko's Hakama.

A rustle of cotton, and mid-fight the bottom drawers of the Aoyama matriarch were tugged accidentally off, and the married woman blushed uncharacteristically as her pale bottom was suddenly exposed to the chill of the mountains.

That single lapse of concentration was all Motoko needed.

"ZANMAKEN NI NO TACHI!"

The highest level of the Shinmei secret arts sang with energy, as her sword cut perfectly.

A demon sealing skill, which could never harm an innocent.

The ki energy crashed into Tsuruko, and atomized the woman's clothing, knocking the fight out of her with a gasp.

Silence descended on the clearing.

Tsuruko Aoyama raised her head as she covered her modesty, happy tears in the shine of her dark eyes.

"Looks like... You have been training hard in Tokyo, Motoko-han..."

The younger Aoyama felt her own tears glisten.

"Yes...Ane-ue."

---

They wrapped up in a few moments.

The mortified Keitaro gave Tsuruko his shirt to preserve her modesty, though she laughed at how easy he was to tease.

Motoko drew up to his side once more, settling into a comfortable embrace with Keitaro's arm around her waist.

"My, you two seem to be much more passionate than before~!" Tsuruko clapped her hands.

The blushing pair rubbed the back of their heads in a similar tic.

"I learned to follow my heart, Ane-ue, and it was thanks to the wonderful man by my side." The young kendoka gazed up adoringly at Keitaro.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Mo-chan." He replied with affection.

Tsuruko's lips quivered as she felt her spirit soar, her sister finally finding happiness.

"And I suppose I must thank you for caring for my sister, Urashima."

The two teens shared a look, and then murmured to each other.

"Is it...?"

"I-I don't wish to pressure you..."

"No I don't mind..."

"...are you sure?"

"Yes my love."

Blushing and whispers aside, they smiled as one.

"Actually, it's Aoyama now, I suppose." Keitaro said cheerfully.

Tsuruko's mouth dropped open.

"And we have to get going, Ane-ue." Motoko gestured with her hand, a glint of gold flashing in the sun.

"I'm going on my first date with my husband!"

---

The couple returned to the Hinata Sou.

Linked arm in arm, Motoko and Keitaro Aoyama gazed up at the mosaic of color splashed through the trees, swaying in the breeze against the blue sky.

The other tenants of the dormitory had varied reactions upon hearing the full story that night at dinner, but all of the girls were moved by the telling of how Keitaro proposed. Kitsune howled with delight at the mishap leading to Tsuruko's defeat, and even Naru had to coo at the ring that Motoko wore with an equally radiant blush. Shinobu tearfully conceded the loss of her senpai to the beautiful kenoko, who hugged the younger girl with affection.

At last, amid the clink of plates and good natured teasing, the couple left for bed.

Shyly, Motoko tugged Keitaro's sleeve and guided him to her own room. Without a word, the pair kissed in the dim bedroom, a tender moment of affection between the young ones through such a tumultuous ordeal.

Motoko slowly tugged at the collar of her white cotton gi, exposing her smooth shoulders and neckline, flushed with a rosy blush, and the wrappings binding her chest.

Just as shyly, Keitaro lifted his shirt over his head. His chest made lean through labor and morning training, Motoko couldn't help but bite her lip. As he reached forward with her own hand guiding his, he began to unwrap the bindings on her slim chest.

"Mo-chan."

"Kei-kun."

They were innocent, and explored each other with the curiosity that came with their new relationship. Skinny teenage arms and awkward kisses and giggles. Cuddled in the sheets, warm skin pressed together amid the cotton sheets and silky black hair, the married couple held each other close under the light of the moon shining through the window.

"Kei-kun?"

He looked down at his wife's thoughtful dark eyes.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Did you know that if two people who love each other go to Tokyo U together, will live happily ever after?"

The boy bit his lip as he remembered the old saying she spoke of.

"That's what they say..."

Motoko tilted her head up and kissed him.

"Promise me we'll go to Tokyo U together..."

Keitaro smiled, eyes brimming with love for his wife as he kissed her again.

"I promise."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, under starlight in the watchful embrace of the Hinata Sou.

END