He never felt the need to lock his bathing quarters before. There was no false modesty or fear of peaking perverts to cause such a reaction as the other residents well aware of the purpose of the room. Not even Su bothering him, usually, sometimes, hopefully! Incidents with the various Mecha Tama prototypes were not that easy to forget after all. But this day was rather different, the two new additions to the Inn making him rather fearful for his own person.
There was a thick layer of sweat on his body, dirt in the most odd of places, and even a leaf or two tucked away behind his ears, almost in defiance of his previous efforts to relieve himself of the numerous souvenirs he had managed to collect during the day.
"Well," ever the optimist, he tried convincing the invisible audience of a rather questionable issue, "It could have been worse!"
He neatly folded his dirty clothes into a corner, a fresh change and a couple of clean towels waiting on a small cabinet, a rather insightful preparations he meticulously tended to every time he took a bath, especially after realizing that the odds for survival in the case of a 'Keitaro Roninus' specimen plummeted down spectacularly the moment he asked for a towel, of dared venture outside this 'bath' without clothes on his person.
'Perhaps I should keep a rule book?' was a thought that frequently crossed his mind, before realisation dawned again, 'I don't have the money to buy that much paper!'
As he submitted himself to a bucket of cold water, he was rather pleased to notice that the numbness in his body didn't signify the end of perception for his tactile sense. It did however mean that he could blame the shiver attacking him on the water's temperature, because really, what was there to cause such a reaction? Denying instincts was quite a second nature for Keitaro, and the loud screaming in the back of his head was ignored, no matter the shape it came under.
A good soaping later, and the liberal use of shampoo to wash the much abused hair, and he felt clean again, 'For how long?', the voice at the back of his head was asking, or rather, stating a fact proven by the young man's tenure at the Hinata Inn. Another quick bucket of cold water, making himself feel alive again and he was ready for a proper soaking. It wasn't a proper furo, but hey! It was his.
"Nothing like a good bath," it was a pleased expression that Keitaro wore on his face as he allowed himself the embrace of the hot water in his so called bath. His sour body was soothed by the water, his mind relaxed at the sensation. And after a day such as the one he had, that was in rather short supply.
--
ôWhoà whoà are you?ö he tried to ask, before the woman opened her mouth, and with it, the gates of Hell.
ôHello darling!ö
"Errr... dar.r.r.r.l.i.n.g?" the nervous manager struggled formulating a reply to the sexy bombshell claiming to be his promise girl. Never in his wildest dreams would he have suspected his promise girl was actually a foreigner! But the claim was reinforced by Mutsumi's words, and Mutsumi never lied. "Do, err - I," he tried voicing the questions plaguing his mind once more, without any notable success, already feeling the eyes of the Hinata girls boring holes into his skull.
"Oh no!" Hild falsely cried, a pout so out of place emerging on her face contradicting her stunning looks, "My Kei-chan doesn't remember me!"
Crocodile tears appeared on her face joining the pout into offering a display few beings in existence, or indeed at the end of their existence managed to witness, "Oh, my wasted life!"
"Ara?" There was an expression of wonder on Mutsumi's face as she looked fondly at the two, "That's not nice Kei-kun, Hild-chan was so excited about the promise!" for those that knew the Okinawan and were paying attention to her at the moment it was a rather strange sight. The usually bubbly Mutsumi was almost upset? At the same time nobody noticed the exasperated look that flashed on the Daimaichou's face, the demon suddenly finding her thoughts revolving around ways to vanish all watermelons from Earth.
Payback was coming for Mutsumi, and Hild didn't like to leave a score unsettled. And certainly not when it concerned her.
"KeI-ta-Ro," a vicious snarl and a voice filled with barely restrained rage roused Keitaro from his state of confusion. There was anger, resentment, fury, and all of them were directed at him, the fiery red aura visible with the naked eye around Narusegawa, everything about the girl's posture screaming 'Danger! Please prepare for Naru Air.Æ
"You... PERVERT!" Dash! Start! The brunette finally exploded, her fist connecting with his remarkably resilient jaw, in just a few seconds Keitaro attempting once more to surpass a personal record of his.
In the background, several commentators started to analyse the performance.
"And is the Hinata manager finally going to break the sound barrier and his personal best of 2732 meters? Or is he going to run short of the goal yet again?"
"Well, given the velocity and the angle of impact, this might be it folks! A new Keitaro record!"
"Noooooooooooooooooo!" the voice of the former ronin could be heard across the city, the people of the town, long used to this display of virtuosity proudly saluting Hinata's best son as he sailed above them.
At the inn, there was only silence, Hild's appreciative gaze after the flying ronin soon dispelled as she turned towards the Hina girls, her eyes fixed on Naru.
---
Any pilot will tell you that landing is an art in itself, the subtle manipulation of the throttle, the gentle caress of the machine and for some the quick prayer as they begin their approach towards the landing strip, all rituals designed to take one home safely. For Keitaro, it was a rather painful art, but at least he got one part straight; praying.
It was always the same, a recital for the ears of divinity, a shower of praise and faith in the Almighty as his lips froze in the cold air, his eyes witness to a view that many would envy him for. It wasn't once that he thought about organizing some trips over the city, fresh air, tranquillity, peace of mind, all great selling points, but he somehow doubted that others would survive the experience.
Once again he was lucky, the branches and trunks of several trees slowing him down in his descent, barely a three meter wide crater left in the pavement to mark the impact point of his landing. Somehow, and it would forever remain a mystery to Keitaro, even though he much appreciated it, no nests or animals found themselves in his path. That is, if you didn't count the winged rats that made it a habit to present him with a rather obnoxious offering each time they found themselves in his proximity after one of such landings.
Brushing away the dirt from his clothes and trying to remove the mouthful of grass currently filling his mouth, Keitaro couldn't help but sigh at the carnage. "Great," he complained, "Now I'm going to get complaints for remodelling the landscape without permission. Again!"
Some people were surely making a fortune out of his misery! He could almost see the smug grins on the faces of all those bureaucrats and their greedy paws.
"There goes that trip to Kyoto."
All in all it wasn't as if seven ancient trees, two lampposts and one small crater were his best 'performance', but they were surely going to cost him. And the premium on his insurance was bound to get higher now; soon he was going to end up having to take up that offer for advertising. It would take a while to handle a banner interfering with his flight, but if it had to be done...
As he finally forced himself and his damaged leg to make the trip home, he never noticed the calculated look of a strange woman.
---
Tsuruko Aoyama had a rather interesting day for herself. She was here to deliver judgement on her sister's progress with a sword and see if she was fit to continue the family tradition. Yet halfway towards the Hina Inn, her objective changed, strong demonic miasma clouding her senses.
She knew that the strange man landing in the park had to be a demon, there was no way a normal human could survive this! With this in mind, she made her decision.
"Die! Demon!" she whispered, a quick slash of her sword releasing a wave of purifying ki at the entity. It was dishonourable of her to do something as such, but she had to be done with it as fast as possible.
And nothing happened.
"Huh?!" the famed master of the Aoyama school, the woman never defeated in combat, the gracious scion of a noble samurai house simply gawked at the walking man. Seven seconds later, seven more than what a proud warrior such as herself would have needed to regroup and plan she rushed after the man.
"Hey, wai..." she never managed to finish her words. The master of the sword, the martial artist of international recognition tripped on a pebble, her hands, desperate for support, grabbing the hem of the man's pants.
Keitaro never enjoyed walking back towards the Inn from his impromptu 'trips'. Especially not now, with his leg in a cast and nothing to support his injured leg. And then it got chilly.
"What the?" the words left his mouth as his pants and underwear were forcefully removed from his person, exposing some rather sensitive parts of his anatomy to the world at large.
With a certain amount of dread and apprehension, the manager dared look behind him.
Woman? Check.
Sword? Check.
Weird bird behind her? Check.
Woman holding my pants? Check.
Now, normally such a situation would have been followed by some rather meek response from the former ronin, his usual experiences in similar situations not too fortunate. But this time, the reaction was rather... different. With his mind suffering a shock too many, the manager could only yell one word, one he was awfully familiar with.
"Pervert!"
Naturally, his second reaction had to respect the Universal Law of Murphy. Trying to move away from the still shocked woman, and, in a somewhat ironic situation, escape the pervert and protect his innocence, Keitaro tripped as well, his head meeting the pavement once more, plunging him into blissful oblivion. And perhaps it was for the best, for the hand of the former ronin managed, against all odds, to land on the bound chest of the samurai woman.
Not even that was enough to stir the woman from her shock, her mistake against all that she was. "How did I..?" she finally managed to ask, noticing at long last the hand on her chest and the man sprawled on the ground. Suppressing her initial reaction and the urge to remove her sword from its sheath, the samurai woman gently removed Keitaro's hand, then moved to turn him around and get him dressed again just an appreciative raise of her eyebrows betraying the quick look she took at his, ahem, attributes.
"Now," after making sure his pants and boxers were where they belonged she placed his head in her lap, "What am I going to do with you?" his wallet, retrieved as she was dressing him revealed his name and address, surprise coming over her features, "My, my, it seems that we had the same destination all along!"
Now, if she could only explain the nefarious aura that surrounded this man before the wave of purified ki dispelled it! There was no way one such as he could generate it, she could see it clearly now, but what sort of demon could torment this innocent soul? She had to find out! For the safety of this man, and for the safety of her sister.
Her decision made, Tsuruko threw the man over her shoulder, intent on carrying him to the Inn.
---
Let it not be claimed that Motoko Aoyama has a habit of pacing on the roof under the guise of practice. No! One would make a grievous mistake in believing such a fact, all evidence pointed to the contrary, the timed steps, and the focus in her eyes as she looked at the steps leading to the inn all part of her rigorous training regiment. And what cause would she have to waste valuable training time? Surely, such a ridiculous thought wouldn't cross anyone's mind! All she was doing was training! Sole witness to this scene, her sword, still sheathed and untouched was ready to lay testimony in confirmation.
In her room, pouring over her text books, Naru was disconnected from reality. So what if the pervert found his promised girl? So what if she was fit to be a supermodel? Or perhaps she was one already? It didn't matter to her, not even in the slightest! Why should it? It's not like she had feelings for that pervert. Perish the thought! The day she felt anything for that perverted swine of a man would surely signal Armageddon. And what were the odds of that happening? Why, no sooner than that the devil would walk on Earth, and who in his right mind would believe such hog wash?
In the sanctity of her own room/laboratory/jungle, the Molmolian princess was not troubled by such thoughts. Indeed, her mind was focused on matters of life and death, survival or extinction, chaos and order, evolution or entropy! It was one thing to be concerned over one hapless manager, another entirely to be concerned about the dwindling banana supplies at her disposal. For some reason it seemed as if they had started to mysteriously vanish and she couldn't find the cause! As she worked at her response to this challenge, a new Mecha Tama to be tested on Keitaro, she reminded herself to take out the garbage from her room, there was hardly any space left in the bin for banana peels!
Despite her initial thoughts on getting to 'know' the new girl better, Kitsune found herself faced with an impressive opposition from Mutsumi. Somehow, the watermelon girl managed to outmanoeuvre and outsmart her, convincing the fox into returning to her own room and allow some time for her to catch up with her old friend. And for some odd reason, it didn't even seem as if Mutsumi was consciously pushing for that, but she just couldn't refuse the woman. It didn't speak well for her skills if Mutsumi, of all people, managed to pull her strings without even a minor conscious effort. And besides, it was getting dark outside, with no sign of Keitaro yet, so there went her source of entertainment for the evening.
There wasn't much to do in the kitchen, all dishes clean, everything tucked away where it belonged, not a speck of dust anywhere. Yet, for some unfathomable reason the miniature cook of the house kept herself busy. Cooking a full course meal? No problem! Doing those fancy western recipes and catching the taste right? All in a day's work. Scraping a meal together from only a handful of ingredients? Not a challenge. Boiling water if your name was Shinobu Maehara and you were anxiously peeking out the window? Impossible!
As if she wasn't aware of all the feelings swirling in the house, Hild was enjoying, and the term must be used in its most loose interpretation, a cup of tea with the source of her problems, a nemesis she hadn't even suspected existed before the events of this day. Her! The smiling watermelon eating girl that was smiling as if the ruler of hell itself wasn't two paces away. As if Hild wasn't planning her revenge and utter torment in retribution. She wondered what the girl had to say for all the trouble she had stirred.
"A slice of watermelon?"
---
From her position atop the building, Motoko was the first to spot them, "Ah, that perverted fiend finally returns!" the words left her mouth out of instinct, the fact that it felt easier to breathe totally unrelated with them.
"Wait.." she could tell something was wrong, her eye quickly picking up the fact that it wasn't the manager returning on his own two feet climbing the stairs to the inn with great speed. In fact, and a feeling of dread suddenly overcame her, it seemed as if he was being carried by somebody else, and a lump started forming in her throat, a woman, her movements as gracious as those of... 'Aneue!' her traitorous mind provided the answer her lips couldn't form.
The word ignited a fear the likes of which Motoko hadn't experienced in years, enough to make her almost cower under the feeling and run away to hide in a cave! Despite all this, her feet took another path. Step by step, with all her willpower focused behind her progress, she was heading towards the stairs. Finally, a compromise was reached by the conflicting parts of her brain, "Who knows what that pervert did to my sister!" the resulting argument drove her forward, a temporary solution to the struggle.
From the kitchen, as focused as she was on the boiling water, the nth attempt for the day, Shinobu was the second to spot the manager, "Sempai?" there was a tremble in her voice as she witnessed an unknown woman carrying what was obviously a very unconscious manager. Unlike other residents of the inn, there was no factor detaining her from rushing to the front door, storming through the living room and disturbing the silence of the 'catching up' process between Hild and Mutsumi. To say that her timely intervention didn't save innocent watermelon fields across the world would, of course, be a lie.
"Ara!" Mutsumi was quick to follow the example set by Shinobu, her steps unusually vigorous for the normally anaemic woman, "Kei-kun's back!"
The smile almost blinded Hild.
"Come Hild-chan! There's so much you need to catch up with him!" and again, something totally characteristic for the Okinawan occurred, her arm grabbing that of Hild in a strong grip, almost dragging the demoness behind her. Once again, Hild wondered about throwing caution to the wind and frying the human that was toying with her such.
Usually, for Tsuruko, accustomed to more tiresome training routines, climbing the hill to the Hinata Inn wouldn't have been much of a challenge. But after tugging along an unmoving passenger. Somehow managing to get lost for the first time in her life and at the end of it all face the countless stairs leading to the inn, even her stamina had its limits. By the time she reached the end of the stairway, her breath was laboured, and a bead of perspiration was running down her face.
"We're here, Manager-san," she spoke to her passenger, preparing herself for whatever it was to come. And it didn't take long to come.
"Sempai!"
---
"Found out what's wrong?" Keiichi asked his concerned girlfriend as she struggled to make the sleeping Urd comfortable. The earlier shock had left the goddess in a state of chaos and now she was sleeping off the shock and the following attempt to define new records in alcohol consumption.
"No, for some reason Father isn't saying anything, just that Hild is fulfilling a wish on Earth," for anyone not knowing Bell, the words would have sounded peaceful, melodious; her face an epitome of serenity, but Keiichi was different. Years spent living together with the goddesses had taught him to notice certain signs. And Bell was definitely worried.
"Mom... wish..." Urd started mumbling in her sleep, her face portraying different expressions of horror and shock, "Mom... WISH!" she yelled, suddenly wide awake, her eyes scanning the room for occupants before they set upon Keiichi.
"Keiichi," she started, her voice chilly, "Please tell me I had a bad dream and that my mother isn't on Earth at this very moment!" the gaze she directed at him enough to make the young nodding in approval.
"Urd-chan!" Belldandy was quick to interfere, "You're scaring Keiichi!" Mother Bell mode engaged, prepare seatbelts.
"But Bell-chan!" Urd was quick to catch on to her sister's mood, suddenly enhanced by a heavy dose of Hild related paranoia, "You couldn't lie about it, at least let me have this comfort!" she pouted, caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Nee-chan!" the typhoon named Skuld opened the doors to the room, preventing further conversation. Covered in soot and oil, she wore a pleased smile on her face, "I finally repaired the alarms! They should..." the wail of the alarms interrupted her.
"Fixed indeed," Keiichi muttered as the noise threatened to shatter all windows.
---
If you want to blame someone for the above text, direct your ire at Lord Raa. He's the one that convinced me to write a second chapter for this fic as a birthday present for his ** birthday!
Many thanks to Lord Raa for his patience in pre reading this and Happy Birthday! again mate, even if a couple of weeks late.
Suggestions, comments, seizures? All welcome.
There was a thick layer of sweat on his body, dirt in the most odd of places, and even a leaf or two tucked away behind his ears, almost in defiance of his previous efforts to relieve himself of the numerous souvenirs he had managed to collect during the day.
"Well," ever the optimist, he tried convincing the invisible audience of a rather questionable issue, "It could have been worse!"
He neatly folded his dirty clothes into a corner, a fresh change and a couple of clean towels waiting on a small cabinet, a rather insightful preparations he meticulously tended to every time he took a bath, especially after realizing that the odds for survival in the case of a 'Keitaro Roninus' specimen plummeted down spectacularly the moment he asked for a towel, of dared venture outside this 'bath' without clothes on his person.
'Perhaps I should keep a rule book?' was a thought that frequently crossed his mind, before realisation dawned again, 'I don't have the money to buy that much paper!'
As he submitted himself to a bucket of cold water, he was rather pleased to notice that the numbness in his body didn't signify the end of perception for his tactile sense. It did however mean that he could blame the shiver attacking him on the water's temperature, because really, what was there to cause such a reaction? Denying instincts was quite a second nature for Keitaro, and the loud screaming in the back of his head was ignored, no matter the shape it came under.
A good soaping later, and the liberal use of shampoo to wash the much abused hair, and he felt clean again, 'For how long?', the voice at the back of his head was asking, or rather, stating a fact proven by the young man's tenure at the Hinata Inn. Another quick bucket of cold water, making himself feel alive again and he was ready for a proper soaking. It wasn't a proper furo, but hey! It was his.
"Nothing like a good bath," it was a pleased expression that Keitaro wore on his face as he allowed himself the embrace of the hot water in his so called bath. His sour body was soothed by the water, his mind relaxed at the sensation. And after a day such as the one he had, that was in rather short supply.
--
ôWhoà whoà are you?ö he tried to ask, before the woman opened her mouth, and with it, the gates of Hell.
ôHello darling!ö
"Errr... dar.r.r.r.l.i.n.g?" the nervous manager struggled formulating a reply to the sexy bombshell claiming to be his promise girl. Never in his wildest dreams would he have suspected his promise girl was actually a foreigner! But the claim was reinforced by Mutsumi's words, and Mutsumi never lied. "Do, err - I," he tried voicing the questions plaguing his mind once more, without any notable success, already feeling the eyes of the Hinata girls boring holes into his skull.
"Oh no!" Hild falsely cried, a pout so out of place emerging on her face contradicting her stunning looks, "My Kei-chan doesn't remember me!"
Crocodile tears appeared on her face joining the pout into offering a display few beings in existence, or indeed at the end of their existence managed to witness, "Oh, my wasted life!"
"Ara?" There was an expression of wonder on Mutsumi's face as she looked fondly at the two, "That's not nice Kei-kun, Hild-chan was so excited about the promise!" for those that knew the Okinawan and were paying attention to her at the moment it was a rather strange sight. The usually bubbly Mutsumi was almost upset? At the same time nobody noticed the exasperated look that flashed on the Daimaichou's face, the demon suddenly finding her thoughts revolving around ways to vanish all watermelons from Earth.
Payback was coming for Mutsumi, and Hild didn't like to leave a score unsettled. And certainly not when it concerned her.
"KeI-ta-Ro," a vicious snarl and a voice filled with barely restrained rage roused Keitaro from his state of confusion. There was anger, resentment, fury, and all of them were directed at him, the fiery red aura visible with the naked eye around Narusegawa, everything about the girl's posture screaming 'Danger! Please prepare for Naru Air.Æ
"You... PERVERT!" Dash! Start! The brunette finally exploded, her fist connecting with his remarkably resilient jaw, in just a few seconds Keitaro attempting once more to surpass a personal record of his.
In the background, several commentators started to analyse the performance.
"And is the Hinata manager finally going to break the sound barrier and his personal best of 2732 meters? Or is he going to run short of the goal yet again?"
"Well, given the velocity and the angle of impact, this might be it folks! A new Keitaro record!"
"Noooooooooooooooooo!" the voice of the former ronin could be heard across the city, the people of the town, long used to this display of virtuosity proudly saluting Hinata's best son as he sailed above them.
At the inn, there was only silence, Hild's appreciative gaze after the flying ronin soon dispelled as she turned towards the Hina girls, her eyes fixed on Naru.
---
Any pilot will tell you that landing is an art in itself, the subtle manipulation of the throttle, the gentle caress of the machine and for some the quick prayer as they begin their approach towards the landing strip, all rituals designed to take one home safely. For Keitaro, it was a rather painful art, but at least he got one part straight; praying.
It was always the same, a recital for the ears of divinity, a shower of praise and faith in the Almighty as his lips froze in the cold air, his eyes witness to a view that many would envy him for. It wasn't once that he thought about organizing some trips over the city, fresh air, tranquillity, peace of mind, all great selling points, but he somehow doubted that others would survive the experience.
Once again he was lucky, the branches and trunks of several trees slowing him down in his descent, barely a three meter wide crater left in the pavement to mark the impact point of his landing. Somehow, and it would forever remain a mystery to Keitaro, even though he much appreciated it, no nests or animals found themselves in his path. That is, if you didn't count the winged rats that made it a habit to present him with a rather obnoxious offering each time they found themselves in his proximity after one of such landings.
Brushing away the dirt from his clothes and trying to remove the mouthful of grass currently filling his mouth, Keitaro couldn't help but sigh at the carnage. "Great," he complained, "Now I'm going to get complaints for remodelling the landscape without permission. Again!"
Some people were surely making a fortune out of his misery! He could almost see the smug grins on the faces of all those bureaucrats and their greedy paws.
"There goes that trip to Kyoto."
All in all it wasn't as if seven ancient trees, two lampposts and one small crater were his best 'performance', but they were surely going to cost him. And the premium on his insurance was bound to get higher now; soon he was going to end up having to take up that offer for advertising. It would take a while to handle a banner interfering with his flight, but if it had to be done...
As he finally forced himself and his damaged leg to make the trip home, he never noticed the calculated look of a strange woman.
---
Tsuruko Aoyama had a rather interesting day for herself. She was here to deliver judgement on her sister's progress with a sword and see if she was fit to continue the family tradition. Yet halfway towards the Hina Inn, her objective changed, strong demonic miasma clouding her senses.
She knew that the strange man landing in the park had to be a demon, there was no way a normal human could survive this! With this in mind, she made her decision.
"Die! Demon!" she whispered, a quick slash of her sword releasing a wave of purifying ki at the entity. It was dishonourable of her to do something as such, but she had to be done with it as fast as possible.
And nothing happened.
"Huh?!" the famed master of the Aoyama school, the woman never defeated in combat, the gracious scion of a noble samurai house simply gawked at the walking man. Seven seconds later, seven more than what a proud warrior such as herself would have needed to regroup and plan she rushed after the man.
"Hey, wai..." she never managed to finish her words. The master of the sword, the martial artist of international recognition tripped on a pebble, her hands, desperate for support, grabbing the hem of the man's pants.
Keitaro never enjoyed walking back towards the Inn from his impromptu 'trips'. Especially not now, with his leg in a cast and nothing to support his injured leg. And then it got chilly.
"What the?" the words left his mouth as his pants and underwear were forcefully removed from his person, exposing some rather sensitive parts of his anatomy to the world at large.
With a certain amount of dread and apprehension, the manager dared look behind him.
Woman? Check.
Sword? Check.
Weird bird behind her? Check.
Woman holding my pants? Check.
Now, normally such a situation would have been followed by some rather meek response from the former ronin, his usual experiences in similar situations not too fortunate. But this time, the reaction was rather... different. With his mind suffering a shock too many, the manager could only yell one word, one he was awfully familiar with.
"Pervert!"
Naturally, his second reaction had to respect the Universal Law of Murphy. Trying to move away from the still shocked woman, and, in a somewhat ironic situation, escape the pervert and protect his innocence, Keitaro tripped as well, his head meeting the pavement once more, plunging him into blissful oblivion. And perhaps it was for the best, for the hand of the former ronin managed, against all odds, to land on the bound chest of the samurai woman.
Not even that was enough to stir the woman from her shock, her mistake against all that she was. "How did I..?" she finally managed to ask, noticing at long last the hand on her chest and the man sprawled on the ground. Suppressing her initial reaction and the urge to remove her sword from its sheath, the samurai woman gently removed Keitaro's hand, then moved to turn him around and get him dressed again just an appreciative raise of her eyebrows betraying the quick look she took at his, ahem, attributes.
"Now," after making sure his pants and boxers were where they belonged she placed his head in her lap, "What am I going to do with you?" his wallet, retrieved as she was dressing him revealed his name and address, surprise coming over her features, "My, my, it seems that we had the same destination all along!"
Now, if she could only explain the nefarious aura that surrounded this man before the wave of purified ki dispelled it! There was no way one such as he could generate it, she could see it clearly now, but what sort of demon could torment this innocent soul? She had to find out! For the safety of this man, and for the safety of her sister.
Her decision made, Tsuruko threw the man over her shoulder, intent on carrying him to the Inn.
---
Let it not be claimed that Motoko Aoyama has a habit of pacing on the roof under the guise of practice. No! One would make a grievous mistake in believing such a fact, all evidence pointed to the contrary, the timed steps, and the focus in her eyes as she looked at the steps leading to the inn all part of her rigorous training regiment. And what cause would she have to waste valuable training time? Surely, such a ridiculous thought wouldn't cross anyone's mind! All she was doing was training! Sole witness to this scene, her sword, still sheathed and untouched was ready to lay testimony in confirmation.
In her room, pouring over her text books, Naru was disconnected from reality. So what if the pervert found his promised girl? So what if she was fit to be a supermodel? Or perhaps she was one already? It didn't matter to her, not even in the slightest! Why should it? It's not like she had feelings for that pervert. Perish the thought! The day she felt anything for that perverted swine of a man would surely signal Armageddon. And what were the odds of that happening? Why, no sooner than that the devil would walk on Earth, and who in his right mind would believe such hog wash?
In the sanctity of her own room/laboratory/jungle, the Molmolian princess was not troubled by such thoughts. Indeed, her mind was focused on matters of life and death, survival or extinction, chaos and order, evolution or entropy! It was one thing to be concerned over one hapless manager, another entirely to be concerned about the dwindling banana supplies at her disposal. For some reason it seemed as if they had started to mysteriously vanish and she couldn't find the cause! As she worked at her response to this challenge, a new Mecha Tama to be tested on Keitaro, she reminded herself to take out the garbage from her room, there was hardly any space left in the bin for banana peels!
Despite her initial thoughts on getting to 'know' the new girl better, Kitsune found herself faced with an impressive opposition from Mutsumi. Somehow, the watermelon girl managed to outmanoeuvre and outsmart her, convincing the fox into returning to her own room and allow some time for her to catch up with her old friend. And for some odd reason, it didn't even seem as if Mutsumi was consciously pushing for that, but she just couldn't refuse the woman. It didn't speak well for her skills if Mutsumi, of all people, managed to pull her strings without even a minor conscious effort. And besides, it was getting dark outside, with no sign of Keitaro yet, so there went her source of entertainment for the evening.
There wasn't much to do in the kitchen, all dishes clean, everything tucked away where it belonged, not a speck of dust anywhere. Yet, for some unfathomable reason the miniature cook of the house kept herself busy. Cooking a full course meal? No problem! Doing those fancy western recipes and catching the taste right? All in a day's work. Scraping a meal together from only a handful of ingredients? Not a challenge. Boiling water if your name was Shinobu Maehara and you were anxiously peeking out the window? Impossible!
As if she wasn't aware of all the feelings swirling in the house, Hild was enjoying, and the term must be used in its most loose interpretation, a cup of tea with the source of her problems, a nemesis she hadn't even suspected existed before the events of this day. Her! The smiling watermelon eating girl that was smiling as if the ruler of hell itself wasn't two paces away. As if Hild wasn't planning her revenge and utter torment in retribution. She wondered what the girl had to say for all the trouble she had stirred.
"A slice of watermelon?"
---
From her position atop the building, Motoko was the first to spot them, "Ah, that perverted fiend finally returns!" the words left her mouth out of instinct, the fact that it felt easier to breathe totally unrelated with them.
"Wait.." she could tell something was wrong, her eye quickly picking up the fact that it wasn't the manager returning on his own two feet climbing the stairs to the inn with great speed. In fact, and a feeling of dread suddenly overcame her, it seemed as if he was being carried by somebody else, and a lump started forming in her throat, a woman, her movements as gracious as those of... 'Aneue!' her traitorous mind provided the answer her lips couldn't form.
The word ignited a fear the likes of which Motoko hadn't experienced in years, enough to make her almost cower under the feeling and run away to hide in a cave! Despite all this, her feet took another path. Step by step, with all her willpower focused behind her progress, she was heading towards the stairs. Finally, a compromise was reached by the conflicting parts of her brain, "Who knows what that pervert did to my sister!" the resulting argument drove her forward, a temporary solution to the struggle.
From the kitchen, as focused as she was on the boiling water, the nth attempt for the day, Shinobu was the second to spot the manager, "Sempai?" there was a tremble in her voice as she witnessed an unknown woman carrying what was obviously a very unconscious manager. Unlike other residents of the inn, there was no factor detaining her from rushing to the front door, storming through the living room and disturbing the silence of the 'catching up' process between Hild and Mutsumi. To say that her timely intervention didn't save innocent watermelon fields across the world would, of course, be a lie.
"Ara!" Mutsumi was quick to follow the example set by Shinobu, her steps unusually vigorous for the normally anaemic woman, "Kei-kun's back!"
The smile almost blinded Hild.
"Come Hild-chan! There's so much you need to catch up with him!" and again, something totally characteristic for the Okinawan occurred, her arm grabbing that of Hild in a strong grip, almost dragging the demoness behind her. Once again, Hild wondered about throwing caution to the wind and frying the human that was toying with her such.
Usually, for Tsuruko, accustomed to more tiresome training routines, climbing the hill to the Hinata Inn wouldn't have been much of a challenge. But after tugging along an unmoving passenger. Somehow managing to get lost for the first time in her life and at the end of it all face the countless stairs leading to the inn, even her stamina had its limits. By the time she reached the end of the stairway, her breath was laboured, and a bead of perspiration was running down her face.
"We're here, Manager-san," she spoke to her passenger, preparing herself for whatever it was to come. And it didn't take long to come.
"Sempai!"
---
"Found out what's wrong?" Keiichi asked his concerned girlfriend as she struggled to make the sleeping Urd comfortable. The earlier shock had left the goddess in a state of chaos and now she was sleeping off the shock and the following attempt to define new records in alcohol consumption.
"No, for some reason Father isn't saying anything, just that Hild is fulfilling a wish on Earth," for anyone not knowing Bell, the words would have sounded peaceful, melodious; her face an epitome of serenity, but Keiichi was different. Years spent living together with the goddesses had taught him to notice certain signs. And Bell was definitely worried.
"Mom... wish..." Urd started mumbling in her sleep, her face portraying different expressions of horror and shock, "Mom... WISH!" she yelled, suddenly wide awake, her eyes scanning the room for occupants before they set upon Keiichi.
"Keiichi," she started, her voice chilly, "Please tell me I had a bad dream and that my mother isn't on Earth at this very moment!" the gaze she directed at him enough to make the young nodding in approval.
"Urd-chan!" Belldandy was quick to interfere, "You're scaring Keiichi!" Mother Bell mode engaged, prepare seatbelts.
"But Bell-chan!" Urd was quick to catch on to her sister's mood, suddenly enhanced by a heavy dose of Hild related paranoia, "You couldn't lie about it, at least let me have this comfort!" she pouted, caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Nee-chan!" the typhoon named Skuld opened the doors to the room, preventing further conversation. Covered in soot and oil, she wore a pleased smile on her face, "I finally repaired the alarms! They should..." the wail of the alarms interrupted her.
"Fixed indeed," Keiichi muttered as the noise threatened to shatter all windows.
---
If you want to blame someone for the above text, direct your ire at Lord Raa. He's the one that convinced me to write a second chapter for this fic as a birthday present for his ** birthday!
Many thanks to Lord Raa for his patience in pre reading this and Happy Birthday! again mate, even if a couple of weeks late.
Suggestions, comments, seizures? All welcome.
