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Thread: Motoko's Secret

  1. #1
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    Motoko's Secret

    Hey, everyone. Here's a fic I've had sitting around for a while now. It's called "Motoko's Secret", and if you couldn't guess from the title, it's a 'Toko fic, though almost all of the other girls do make an appearance. Let me know what you think!


    Motoko's Secret

    a fanfic by Ammaranth

    The Legalese [you can skip this if you're not Perry Mason] : I don't own Love Hina, or any of the characters portrayed in this work (though I'd REALLY like to own Aoyama-hime I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for the sheer joy of writing, and of indulging my ongoing miko and tsundere obsession. Thank you for reading. No ronin were harmed during the making of this fic.

    Chapter 1

    Mist hung on the Blue Mountains. But the eyes of Motoko Aoyama were clear.
    Overhead, a white banner flapped in the wind. It read: “Raika High Annual Kendo Championship”.
    Motoko sat in seiza. Her legs were folded neatly underneath her, with her feet tucked behind her. Her knees were modestly pressed together. She was wearing the blue hakama pants and white kimono top that were the uniform for her fencing school. Rain was falling, making a slow, steady drizzle as it scoured her kendo armor. So far, the rain had struck the only blows to land on her that day. No opponent’s sword had gotten through.
    Beside her on the wooden floor lay a shinai, a practice sword, made of slats of bamboo tied together with leather thronging. The cords, along with the wood itself and the deer skin grip that wrapped around the handle had all taken on water from the rain, changing the feel of the weapon slightly.
    A voice came over the PA system,
    “This next match, between Motoko Aoyama and Seki Nakahara will decide who will be this year’s Raika High School Kendo Champion!”
    Motoko payed it little mind.
    “Aoyama! Seki!”
    The judge’s voice was deep. It came from his belly. He hadn’t used the microphone, so his voice was natural, and it stayed low to the ground, unlike the tinny, metallic sound of the announcer’s voice as it went out over the loud speaker, up over the heads of the crowd.
    The sound of the rain was deafening as she put on her helmet, tying its cords around the front, then the back, then the front again. Her grey eyes gleamed as she looked out from behind the steel bars of her face mask. She and Seki took their places. They turned, and bowed to the judges. They turned again, and crossing swords, both of them lowered into a crouch. The referee held his hand between them, then lifted it and sprang back.
    They both leapt from the ground, using the rising action to draw back, ready to swing.
    “Men! Men! Kote!”
    Their shouts filled the air, calling their targets, as Seki and Motoko chopped away at each other. For a moment, neither had the advantage.
    “Kote!”, Motoko shouted, cutting towards Seki’s arms. But Seki guarded her hands well.
    “Men!”, Seki shouted, cutting at the top of Motoko’s facemask.
    “She’s strong”, Motoko thought as she parried. “There are reasons she’s gotten this far”, she said to herself, and she answered with a “Men!” of her own.
    Seki parried it, and the two of them closed together in a shoving match of crossed swords.
    “Her high guard is too strong. It will have to be something else”, Motoko thought, as she and Seki wrestled through their swords, each of them seeking for an opening.
    Motoko pushed forward, carrying Seki’s arms up.
    “This is it”, she said to herself, dropping her sword to one side and springing to the other.
    Seki’s sword began to descend. Motoko’s arms were already moving forward. The wind stirred, as if the very air had gotten caught up in the motion of the bamboo blade.
    “D-O-O-O-O-O-O!” Motoko shouted, calling out her target, as her sword swung forward, crashing into Seki’s chest protector, even as Seki’s own sword descended harmlessly to cut where Motoko had been.
    “Point Aoyama! Aoyama wins!”
    The crowd in the stands erupted with cheers and applause. Motoko seemed not to hear them. Instead, she loosed her helmet cords. As she took her helmet off, her headband came with it, and a cascade of long, dark hair fell across her back. Out of the shapeless noise of the crowd, several voices became distinct.
    “Way to go Motoko! We knew you could do it!”
    “Let’s celebrate with something to eat!”
    “Woo-hoo! I had money riding on that last fight!”
    The voices were familiar, including that last one, which had an unmistakable Osakan accent. When she heard them, Motoko’s face softened into a smile.
    “You were amazing Motoko. That was really cool.”
    That last voice -- a MALE voice -- seemed to have a particular effect on her. Her cheeks tinged with a slight blush.

    An announcement came over the loud speaker -- something about the awards ceremony. She was spared.
    There was a reading of names, and the presentation of trophies. The voice on the microphone made a series of squawking noises as it relived every moment of their fight, commenting on the strength of Seki’s guard, how skillfully Aoyama had avoided her sword, how clean the last cut had been.
    Seki met her out on the boards of the wooden stage. They bowed, and exchanged a handshake. She carried her shinai on her arm, and along with it, Motoko noticed a bouquet of flowers -- roses -- pink ones. She wondered who had given them to her, and then another faint blush tinged the samurai girl’s cheek, as she wondered what it would be like to be given flowers herself.
    As Seki turned to go, Motoko could not help but admire her sincerity. She was smiling. She seemed so happy.
    She made it three steps. And then she collapsed.

    * * * * * * * *

    “Your friend is going to be all right”, the doctor said cheerfully.
    Keitaro and Naru sighed.
    “Well that’s a relief”, Keitaro said.
    “You really knocked the wind out of her”, the doctor went on, addressing Motoko. “That last shot of yours actually cracked her chest protector. She’s going to have a nasty bruise, but other than that, she should be fine. I’m sending her to the hospital as a precaution, to get some X-rays, just in case.”
    Motoko looked over at Seki. An ambulance was next to the stage where the tournament had been, parked right on the grass. Its sirens were off, but the lights were still on, sending out long streaks of red and blue light that flashed overhead. Underneath them, the paramedics were talking to Seki. She had her sword with her, laying beside her on the stretcher. And her flowers. She was still smiling, even as they were putting her into the ambulance. Upon seeing Motoko, she waved. The paramedics scolded her for exerting herself. Motoko smiled faintly, and managed a wave back.
    “She’ll be fine. You kids go on home”, the doctor said, adding, “That’s quite an arm you’ve got there, miss --”
    “Miss Aoyama,” the head coach said, making his way over. “I would like to speak with you for a moment --”

    * * * * * * * *

    Kitsune’s voice registered the shock and amazement on all of their faces. They were sitting in the main room of the Hinata House, under a giant banner that exclaimed, “CONGRATULATIONS MOTOKO!”
    “That’s what she said”, Haruka explained calmly, although she was frowning a little more than was normal for her. “They’re letting her keep the title and the trophy, but they have pulled her off of the team for the regional finals.”
    “But that’s terrible!”, Shinobu said, nearly in tears. “Motoko’s been practicing for that contest since last year! Why would they do such a thing?”
    “Motoko said the coaches were worried about the safety of the other participants.”
    “Well now that I can understand”, Keitaro said with a sigh. “I’ve been on the receiving end of Motoko’s rock splitting sword, and I’m still not sure how I’m still alive . . .”
    Just then Keitaro felt a certain pair of eyes burning a matching pair of holes right into him. Two antennae bristled over the top of them.
    “Naru -- ack! Why are you staring at me like that!?”
    “This is no time for jokes, Keitaro.”
    “Who said I was joking? Have YOU ever been hit by Motoko’s rock splitting sword technique? It’s like being hit by a truck! First --”
    “Look!”, she said, snapping out of it, “Motoko’s going though a really difficult time. She needs us right now . . .”
    “That’s right!”, Kitsune chimed in. “Motoko needs us! So you get right up there and talk to her”, she said, pushing him towards the stairs.
    “Whoa! Wait a minute! What happened to us?”, he said, trying to hold onto the banister to stop himself. “Why does it have to be me? I’m probably the LAST person on earth she’d want to see right now.”
    “It has to be you because you’re the person she’s got a huge --”
    Kitsune stopped short when she realized that Keitaro, Naru, and Shinobu were all staring at her.
    Keitaro blinked.
    “Got a huge what?”
    “You really are clueless”, Naru grumbled.
    “Um -- er -- You’re the one Motoko has a huge amount of respect for!”, Kitsune said hastily. “Yeah . . . Because you’re her landlord!”
    “Motoko doesn’t respect me! I don’t even respect me! And I respect myself even less for saying it!”
    “Whatever”, Kitsune said, trying to pry Keitaro’s hands loose from the stair rail. “Just hurry up and get up there, before she commits seppuku or somethin --”
    An awkward hush came over the group. Kitsune tried to laugh.
    “Eh-heh-heh -- she wouldn’t . . .”
    Images of Motoko cutting her belly open filled their heads, against the backdrop of a giant newspaper with a headline that read, “Kendo Champion Commits Ritual Suicide.”
    “SHE WOULD!”, they all shouted at once.
    “Keitaro, DO something!”, Shinobu shrieked.
    “Ah! Hold on Motoko! I’m coming!”

    (to be continued . . .)

    you can read it here on animeb by going to:

  2. #2

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    You sir. Write well!

    Keep it up! And I'm so glad what I write isn't fan-fic or I'd be getting blown out of the way.

    Photographer. Reader. Sums me up. Photographer more so than reader these days.

  3. #3
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    Well, your fanfic is good! I'm still learning English, but I can follow the story without the translator

    I also have written a fanfic with Motoko, a few years ago. In my story, she moves to Brazil with Tsuruko and her husband ( in history, a mechanical engineer) to a small town near Sao Paulo; there, she meets a Portuguese-Brazilian young man called Roberto and they both get a love story. The story was so mad that Tsuruko had a Japanese megastore in the city and Kitsune was one of the employees, Motoko still had a scooter (motorcycle with automatic transmission, like Vespa or Suzuki Burgman) and studied in pre-university course, and much into disrupt the Portuguese Language.

    I haven't finished a fic because of my classes in college, but want to start all over again, in English.

  4. #4
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    Thank you both for the positive reviews! I plan to update weekly, probably on the weekends, since that's when I have the most free time, though that's still not a lot Motoko would look very cute on a Vespa -- :: imagines 'Toko with a helmet, biker boots, and a leather jacket ::


    you can read it here on animeb by going to:

  5. #5
    Katajainen's Avatar
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    Disclaimer: I rarely read prose in English. In fact, I do not have a clear idea of the style used in average professionally written contemporary English-language belles-lettres. You asked for a review, Ammaranth, so here comes a long-ish one.

    Last edited by Katajainen; 6 Feb 2010 at 6:18 pm.

    "I'm back an' I got a bigger gat!" (Sir Mix-a-Lot)

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  6. #6
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ammaranth View Post
    Thank you both for the positive reviews! I plan to update weekly, probably on the weekends, since that's when I have the most free time, though that's still not a lot Motoko would look very cute on a Vespa -- :: imagines 'Toko with a helmet, biker boots, and a leather jacket ::

    Well, in my fanfic, Motoko rides a Suzuki Burgman 125, a small scooter sold in Brazil... I'll be honest: I'm a motorbiker (I have a small Honda motorbike) and I like girls with motorcycles and scooters

    This halfyear, I'll make a project in Engineering College. But, I'll have a time to "re-write" my fanfic here in this forum. Ah, my fanfic is called Burajiru (Brazil, in Japanese), but as I'm writing a novel with this name on a blog, I will change the name of the fanfic for Chronicles of a Samurai-girl in the West.

    There are Suzuki Burgman 125:

  7. #7
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    Well, it's time for an update, but first, thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. The stereotype of writers as a solitary lot who hide themselves away from everything and everyone is only half true. Mostly, we are hopeless introverts, who don't know how to communicate certain things without the use of fiction. It's not what the story is about -- the story IS what the story is about. If it could be said some other way, the story would not be necessary, and writing them is like putting messages in a bottle, to send to a world we feel somehow removed from. But deep down, we LOVE to hear what readers think. We thrive on it.

    A few remarks to Kata, who was kind enough to reply in great length and detail


    And Soro, 'Toko would look VERY cute on that bike, I must say.

    And now, on to Chapter 2!!! All of the above legalese still applies: I don't own Love Hina, the series or the characters, etc., etc., go buy the manga and the dvds -- I'm not making any money -- Motoko would look great in leather and skin tight PVC, etc.

    Chapter 2

    Keitaro took the stairs two and three at a time. His mind was filled with scenes of Motoko sitting on the floor, her shirt open, a knife in her belly, as she wrote death poems on the wall in her own blood.
    “Motoko! Don’t do it!”, he shouted as he mounted the stairs, rounded the corner, and burst into her room.
    Inside he was confronted with a scene that half matched what he had feared. Motoko was sitting on the floor. And her shirt WAS open. But instead of opening her belly, she was taking the wrappings off of her breasts!
    “Ack! I’m sorry!”
    Keitaro ran for his life.
    “Secret technique -- rock splitting sword!”
    He rounded the corner just in time. A blast came out the door after him, trailing along the floor, until it crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the hall.
    “Oh man, I’m going to have to fix that . . .”
    “Did you see!?”, Motoko demanded.
    “The only thing I saw was my life flashing in front of my eyes!”, Keitaro pleaded. “Honest!”
    For a moment, everything was deathly quiet. With Motoko, “deathly” was usually a good way to describe things.
    “Wow”, Keitaro thought to himself, “She only made one attempt to kill me. Usually she wouldn’t stop until she’d sent me flying at least a hundred feet -- she really MUST be taking this hard --”
    “You’re still there, Urashima.”
    “What do you want?”
    “Look”, Keitaro said, carefully venturing inside. Motoko was still sitting on the floor. Her kimono was tightly shut. “We all heard what happened, and we’re really sorry . . .”
    “I do not need your sympathy”, Motoko said, without looking at him.
    “Wow”, Keitaro thought to himself, “She’s really being stubborn about this -- Oh wow!”, he said, catching sight of a large silver cup sitting in the corner, with a wooden sword resting against it. “Is this your trophy from the competition? It’s huge!”
    “Hmph!”, Motoko said. “A samurai cares not for such things.”
    “Samurai or not, you’ve been training for that contest for months. There has to be something we can do -- we’ll petition the judges -- or file a protest--”
    “The decisions of the ruling board are final”, Motoko said. “There’s nothing you or I or anyone else can do about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, Urashima, it’s been a very long day.”
    And she pushed him out the door.

    * * * * * * * *

    “So how’d it go?”
    Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Keitaro as he came down the stairs.
    “It didn’t”, he said, and then went out on the front porch. Naru frowned, and went after him.
    “What do you mean?”, she asked. “What happened?”
    “Nothing happened”, he said, putting his hands on the rail. “She just wouldn’t listen to me. She said the decision was final.”
    Naru put her hands on the rail too, as she stood beside him.
    “It isn’t like her to give up so easily”, he went on. “That’s not like Motoko at all . . .”
    “We have to help her”, she said.
    Keitaro sighed.
    “I wish we could. But I don’t know what I could possibly do.”
    “Keitaro”, Naru said softly -- so softly that at first it startled him, “This isn’t like you and I trying to get into Tokyo U. If we fail a test, sure, its disappointing, but we can always try again next year -- heck, what’s one more year to a veteran ronin like you?”
    “Gee, thanks!”
    Naru winked and stuck her tongue out at him.
    “But for Motoko, this is different. Her senior year competition will only happen ONCE -- “
    Keitaro turned to look at her.
    “I missed out on so many things because of my studying”, Naru went on. “Things that I’ll never get the chance to do again. I don’t want that to happen to one of our friends. I don’t want any one of them to miss out on anything. That’s why we have to find a way to help her.”
    “You’re right, Naru!” Keitaro clenched his fist in determination. “Motoko’s our friend! We can’t let her down!”
    “That’s the spirit!”, Naru said, smiling. “For a dork, you’re not so bad”, and then she added, under her breath, “when you get so determined, its actually kinda’ cute . . .”
    “What was that?”
    “Don’t leave me hanging like that!”
    “I told you it was nothing”, she said, punching him with only half the usual force. “Now get going!”
    “Yes ma’am!”

    * * * * * * * *

    “Naru’s right! We can’t let our friend down!”, Keitaro said to himself as he ran up the stairs. “Motoko, listen, I need to talk to --”
    But Motoko’s room was empty.
    “Eh? She’s not here? Where could she have gotten off to? Hmm, let’s see -- if I were Motoko, where would I be? Ah ha! She’s probably on the roof taking her afternoon practice!”
    But the only person on the roof was Shinobu, who was busy hanging laundry.
    “Shinobu, have you seen Motoko?”
    “No sempai, I haven’t seen her since the tournament.”
    Next he tried the kitchen.
    “Maybe she’s trying to make herself feel better by gorging on comfort food”, he thought.
    But the only person in the kitchen was Kaolla.
    “Suu, have you seen Motoko?”
    “Nope, but if you’re looking for her, this is the place to be. If you wait long enough, I’m sure she’ll get hungry”, Suu said cheerfully, applying her own logic (if one can call it that) to the situation. “In the mean time, you should try some of this banana flavored ice cream!”
    “No thanks, Suu. I’ve got to find Motoko.”
    He met Kitsune in the hall. Not so much “met” as “ran into.”
    “Why Keitaro, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you did that on purpose, just to have an excuse to brush up against me”, she teased. “Not that I could blame you for wanting to get close to a beautiful young thing like me --” she kept on teasing him, leaning in close, which for a moment made Keitaro forget the nature of his errand.
    “Kitsune -- have you seen Motoko?”
    “Nevermind. Nope, haven’t seen her all afternoon. Aren’t you supposed to be looking for her?” she asked, leaning in close to him again. This time she bent low enough as to be sure to give him a good view down her shirt.
    “Um, I am looking for her!”
    “Darn again!”
    “Nothing -- I think she . . .”, Kitsune tried to add, but Keitaro was already hurrying away. “Hmm”, she thought to herself, “He may be kind of a goof, but he sure is nice, and once he gets an idea in his head, he won’t let anything distract him from his mission.”
    Haruka was sitting in the living room. She didn’t even wait for Keitaro to speak.
    “She isn’t in here either”, she said, without so much as looking up from her newspaper.
    Keitaro sighed in frustration. Just then, a turtle flew by. Which would have been unusual anywhere else, but this was Hinata House, which is not like anywhere else.
    “Do you know where she went, Tama-chan?”
    “Myuh?”, Tama seemed to ask.
    Seeing Tama suddenly jogged Keitaro’s memory.
    “Oh no! The last time Motoko suffered an embarrassing defeat, she tried to leave the Hinata House!”
    Keitaro rushed out onto the steps in front of the main house, but no one was there. The only thing that greeted him was the rush of a few fallen leaves, stirring in the wind.
    “Oh no! She must have run away! Tama, this is terrible!”
    “Myuh!” Tama agreed.
    Keitaro sighed, as he made his way back into the house.
    “Well this is just great. Motoko’s gone -- everyone’s counting on ME to cheer her up, and I’m probably the reason she ran away in the first place,” he said, as he made his way out to the bath house. “Tama, there’s only one thing to do when you’re feeling down at times like this”, he said, getting undressed and wrapping himself in a towel as he prepared to go out to the hot spring. “You’ve just got to try and soak it all away!”
    “Myuh!”, Tama agreed heartily.
    “I guess we should call her family -- Tsuruko is probably going to KILL me”, he sighed, as he walked out of the changing room, and towards the water.
    There was a splash.
    Suddenly, Keitaro remembered that there was still ONE place he had forgotten to look . . .

    (to be continued . . .)
    Last edited by Ammaranth; 7 Feb 2010 at 3:15 am. Reason: OCD

    you can read it here on animeb by going to:

  8. #8
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    Man, your fanfic is very excellent! Look, I always give me a sadness when I see Motoko ready to commite seppuku, and you don't ask me why...

    I'll follow your fanfic, and I'll start my fic here with the wonderful "Kendo-girl" in Brazil!

    Brazil Argentina Uruguay Paraguay

  9. #9
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    Well, it's that time again -- time for this week's chapter. This one is going up late. It was a LOOONG weekend, and I'm just now getting to sit down at the comp and get a few things done. Here it is, chapter three. As always, the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Love Hina, or the characters -- etc, etc, -- I'm not making any money, etc, -- be sure to read and watch the original, read/watch some Negima, too, while you're at it, etc, -- if you see a catgirl, don't pull her tail, or she might scratch your eye out -- etc, etc.

    Ammaranth (b_ED)

    Chapter 3

    In the splashing sounds of the Hinata hot springs echoes the impermanence of all things. And just then, Keitaro Urashima was feeling very impermanent. A samurai maiden prizes her sword and her honor above everything else. Keitaro had already seen Motoko’s sword before -- many times (usually on the receiving end) and her honor was without question. And as of that moment, he’d also seen everything else. EVERYTHING. And it was about to be “or else.”
    “Urashima, you pervert!”
    But when Motoko lunged forward to kill Keitaro, she realized that this meant coming up out of the water, and giving him an even better view. So she did what would normally be unthinkable to any samurai warrior. She retreated. And submerged herself up to her neck.
    “Why you -- Urashima, I’ll get you for this”, she grumbled, and considered whether it might not be worth it to let Keitaro see her. It would only be for a few moments, and afterwards, he’d be dead.
    “Motoko”, Keitaro said, turning to face the other way. “You may be acting like missing that tournament is no big deal, but you’ve been practicing for it for months. Deep down, I know you’re really upset about it.”
    Motoko didn’t know what to do. Her first reaction was to get angry (that was the way Motoko usually responded to most things.)
    “How DARE he presume to know my feelings”, she thought to herself. But then it occurred to her that, in spite of her inner protests, he was right. No matter how much she might try to deny it, she WAS upset, and being seen through (not to mention “seen” in other senses) by Urashima only made her feel worse.
    “Keitaro”, she said, sinking even further, until the water touched her chin. The softness of her voice, and the fact that she’d used his first name, startled him. He didn’t know what to say. “I always knew this day would come . . .” she went on. “My sister Tsuruko always told me that our family’s sword techniques were very powerful. They’re much too dangerous to use in things like tournaments or contests. Tsuruko warned me that one day, I would outgrow such things. I just . . . didn’t expect it would be so soon . . . that’s all.”
    “Motoko . . .” Keitaro said softly. “I’m sorry. Look -- it’s not like you to give up. Somehow we’ll find a way to --”
    “Keitaro, that girl could have been seriously HURT -- maybe even killed . . . I think the coaches are right. Maybe I shouldn’t be in that tournament. Maybe that’s what’s best for everyone”, she said, lowering her eyes, and turning her head away from him.
    Keitaro looked at her. He couldn’t say for sure, but he thought she was crying. He clenched his fist.
    “Well you may have given up, but I haven’t! Besides, I’ve got a plan!”
    “You do?”
    “Yeah, I do!” Keitaro said, surprising even himself with his sudden new found confidence.
    “Urashima?”, Motoko asked, shocked by his sudden resolve.

    “Good news!”, Naru said, as she and Kitsune came walking in. “The hospital called. Seki’s fine. The x-rays were all negative. They’re keeping her overnight, just for observation --”
    Naru froze. She looked at Keitaro. Then at Motoko. Then back to Keitaro again.
    “What the hell’s going on here!?”
    Kitsune giggled.
    “I think Keitaro was making a few observations of his own. Damn, Motoko, why didn’t I think of this myself?”
    “What are you getting at?”, Motoko said as she turned away, blushing beet red at the idea that maybe she did not mind the fact that Keitaro was looking at her.
    “You pervert!”, Naru shouted.
    “Naru, I can explain!”
    “What’s to explain!? You were peeping on Motoko in the hot springs!”
    “But YOU were the one who told me I should try to talk to her!”
    “I didn’t mean in the BATH, you IDIOT!”
    “Wait a minute now”, Kitsune said, trying to push her way in between them. “I couldn’t help but overhear y’all’s conversation --”
    “You mean you were eavesdropping on us?”, Keitaro demanded.
    “Well, I guess that is ONE way of putting it . . .”, Kitsune thought, “But before this goes any further, I’m interested in hearing just what Keitaro’s plan is.”
    “Fine”, Naru said, folding her arms and turning to face the other way.
    Keitaro went on.
    “Motoko, do you remember the time that you lost that duel, and had to act more feminine for a week?”
    “Ugh! As if I could ever forget!”
    “At the time, you complained that when you were dressed like a girl, your sword technique suffered, right?”
    “Must you remind me of my past humiliations? I feel bad enough as it is--”
    “Well back then, it was a bad thing, but for right now, it might be a very good thing --”
    “What do you mean?” Motoko asked, suddenly becoming very suspicious.
    “If your technique becomes less powerful whenever you look or act more feminine, then all you’d have to do is wear some more girl-ish clothes, and that way your attacks wouldn’t be so dangerous.”
    “Ohh!”, Kitsune said. “That IS a good idea! You know, I still have that maid outfit -- and the skirt is short enough, it just might get you some extra points with the judges.”
    “I am NOT fighting in a kendo tournament in a MAID OUTFIT!!”
    ‘No one ever said it had to be a MAID outfit!”, Keitaro shouted.
    “Although that is a good look for you”, Kitsune added. “I’ve got this little feather duster you could borrow --”
    Motoko growled.
    “Now hold on a minute, Motoko”, Kitsune drawled, “Keitaro just might be onto something here.”
    “What do you mean?”, the samurai girl asked cautiously.
    “Well, you have been training all summer for that competition. It would be a shame fo you to miss it.”
    “Yes, and?”, Motoko said, looking at the fox girl sideways.
    “And Keitaro does have a valid point. Whenever you dress more like a girl, it does seem to mellow you out quite a bit.”
    “Yes, AND?”
    Kitsune smiled, making her eyes disappear.
    “No one ever said this article of feminine clothing would have to be something anyone else could see.”

    * * * * * * * *

    “P -- P -- P -- PANTIES!?”
    Motoko’s face was as red as her hakama pants. They were at the mall, standing in front of a lingerie shop.
    “Yep”, Kitsune said. “And look -- they’re having a two for one sale!”
    She grabbed Motoko’s arm and drug her inside before she could run away.
    “Kitsune! I don’t shop at places like this! Everything is so -- so lacey -- and frilly -- and just not me!”
    “How do you know its not you if you don’t try it out?” Kitsune drawled. “Hmm? It’s high time that you started acting like a young woman, and stopped wearing those awful granny panties --”
    “I DO NOT WEAR GRANNY PANTIES!!”, Motoko growled. She said it a little -- make that a LOT louder than she’d intended, and was now painfully aware of the fact that everyone in the store had turned to look at her.
    “Motoko”, Kitsune went on. “You’re a very attractive young lady. But your underwear look like something out of the feudal era.”
    “Feudal era!”
    “Do you even own a bra?”
    “I, uh --”
    “You can’t just keep binding yourself. Those things need the proper support. You wouldn’t want them to get all droopy and saggy, now, would you?”
    “Droopy? Saggy?” Motoko recoiled in horror. Even a samurai girl can feel fear. “All right, all right. But did you have to bring everyone with us? And why is Keitaro here!?”
    “Well we have to have a MALE opinion.”
    But Kitsune was already pushing her along.

    * * * * * * * *

    Meanwhile, Shinobu’s attention had been drawn to a certain outfit -- a black teddy made almost entirely of lace. It was very form fitting -- it had to be stretched to fit over the mannequin -- which was about Shinobu’s size. She noticed on the tag that the upper portion was a bustier, and guaranteed to give one a fuller, more pleasing figure. There was a garter belt with it -- also of black lace, with little hearts shaped into it. It supported a pair of black stockings. For accessories, the display recommended a pair of black silk gloves, and, of course, black stiletto heels.
    As she stared, her vision became cloudy, until she could imagine the scene that would follow:

    “Shinobu, I’m here to help you study”, he’d say, as he walked through the door. He wouldn’t see her yet.
    “Sempai -- I’m ready for you.”
    "I brought you a book on math, and one for English. English was always so hard for --"
    Then Keitaro would see her.
    And he would freeze.
    “Teach me, sempai -- teach me everything there is to know --”

    She was so caught up in imagining this little scenario, and making sure all of the details were right, that she didn’t notice when Suu came bouncing up behind her.
    ‘Oh, hey, Shinobu! Were you imagining wearing that for Keitaro?”
    “Huh? Wha -- Of course not!”
    “Oh well -- want to see what I found?”
    “Sure”, Shinobu hastily agreed, more than willing to change the subject.
    Suu held up a pair of red panties.
    “Look! It says these ones are edible!”
    “Eyah!”, Shinobu shouted.
    “Do you have a recipe for panties?”
    Shinobu hid her face, which was quickly becoming as red as the panties in question.
    “If she did, I’ll bet Keitaro would be one of the main ingredients”, Kitsune drawled, winking one of her eyes while nudging Suu with her elbow.
    “Why are you so mean to me!?”, Shinobu protested, tears welling in her eyes.
    “Aw, we’re just teasin’ ya,” she said, when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Motoko, pressing herself against the wall, and trying to slink away. But samurai girls aren’t ninjas. “Gotcha!”, Kitsune said, grabbing her by the back of her collar. “I think I’ve got everything we need for our little show.”
    “Show?” Motoko said, her tiny voice pleading for mercy as Kitsune drug her away.
    “It says these are strawberry”, Suu went on. “I wonder if the have them in banana?”

    you can read it here on animeb by going to:

  10. #10
    Oh yeah, we got custom user titles. Mr.Anderson's Avatar
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    Well well well, would you look at that. Firstly, sorry for neglecting my duties for so long, secondly, nice work. I will enjoy reading more of this.

    You seem to have grasped the general personalities and feel of all the characters yet it is slightly different. As it should be. When writing a fanfic part of you needs to be in it. Aoyama-dono's secret is quite the fitting title and even though it's three chapters away, the fact that the chapters are slightly shorter then I'm used to makes the revelation exactly at the right time, or at least close enough.

    Also, report here

  11. #11
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    Ammaranth, your fic is very nice!

    One tip I will give you, just to have differentiated with the other fics I've ever seen on the Net: do you remember that I said I wrote a fic in which Motoko had a scooter (like Vespa)? So it would be nice to see our kendo-girl riding a scooter or a motorbike (like Honda CBR or Kawasaki Ninja)... But, It's only a tip.

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  12. #12
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    Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting. So the meaning of the title is revealed! Hope it gave you a chuckle or two. I don't have any scenes with Motoko on a scooter at the moment, so for now, Soro, you remain the undisputed king of Motoko biker fics As for Victoria, if that's how she keeps a secret, I'm not telling her anything! Besides, Aoyama-hime is much cuter anyway, whether in a miko outfit, or in lingerie . . .


    you can read it here on animeb by going to:

  13. #13
    Getting Started Exploding Chocolate's Avatar
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    I really like this fan-fiction, despite that I have yet to see Love Hina. Only thing is with me though, it seems more like you're writing only sayings and barely any action. Also, a lot of description is mission. It seems more like an RP than a fan-fiction. It's really good. But, you should put a bit more description into it, and make it more 'story-like', for the people that may have not seen Love Hina.

    'Tis all,

    Ex Choco

  14. #14
    Aniki is my King hinarei's Avatar
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    Amm, I commend you. It's been a long time since I read an LH fic that I wanted to be continued so much. It's a good thing you didn't fit all this into a one-shot. Each chapter leads the reader to want more from the story. Characterisation is spot-on, I feel, with each girl's personalities depicted the way their creator intended, with Kitsune as crafty and alluring as ever Such a shame she doesn't get more attention


    Should Motoko's reward at the end of the story be a bike with the appropriate travelling gear, I won't be disappointed

    Quote Originally Posted by Crono View Post
    [...]pretty epic in terms of epicness

  15. #15
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    Good, Hinarei! I said that I'll write a LH fanfic here in our forum, but I'm making a work about Sorocaba urban transport system that I'll send to City Hall and I haven't time to my fic... So, I follow the excellent Ammaranth fic in my fun time.

    And I hope Motoko give a motorbike (or a scooter) in this fic...
    Last edited by Sorocabano; 20 Feb 2010 at 11:06 am.

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  16. #16
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    Well, it's update time again. Funny how they always seem to happen late at night on a Sunday. Thank you so much for the comments. I was trying my hand at writing in the light novel style, which tends to be a bit breezy, with lots of dialogue. I think the choppy formatting makes it worse. Lock pointed this out to me, but I have yet to figure out how to improve the spacing and line breaks.

    When I was drafting this, I specifically had in mind the idea of writing something that could pass as a lost episode or arc from the original, so I'm glad it came across that way. Hina, thank you so much for the compliments. I"m glad to hear you're enjoying it, and I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations. Now, on to chapter four!

    Chapter 4

    “Let’s see here -- corset, check -- baby doll, check -- cat ears, check -- I think we have everything. But for old time’s sake, lets start with the maid outfit, why don’t we?”
    “Oh no”, Motoko said adamantly. “There is no way you’re dressing me in any such lewd and undignified getup!”
    “I was afraid you might say that”, Kistune chuckled to herself, “So I came prepared. Suu?”
    Suu held up a bag. Tama flew out.
    “T -- T -- T -- TURTLE!”
    Motoko screamed as Tama flew after her, chasing her around the room.
    “Get it away from me! Aack! No!”, she shouted, when Tama landed on her neck, and began crawling down the back of her kimono. Motoko twitched to one side -- then the other -- then tore her kimono open, and flung it in the corner. The tricky terrapin emerged from the rumpled up kimono, dazed for a moment, but he quickly shook himself off, and resumed his pursuit, this time landing on her foot.
    “He’s crawling up my -- mmfh! Argh! AIIIIEEE!”
    “You don’t think I overdid the part with Tama, do you?”, Kitsune asked.
    Motoko screamed in the background.
    Suu shook her head.
    Motoko kicked her leg wildly, making her red hakama pants flare and billow, but this failed to shake off the tenacious terrapin. Finally, in desperation, she tore open the laces of her hakama, and yanked them down, past her knees, to the floor.
    “Motoko!”, Kistune laughed. “I’ve never seen anybody’s pants come off so fast before. What exactly is it that you practice when you’re off on those retreats? Are you sure they’re not just a cover for some secret rendevous?”
    Motoko eyed the wadded up hakama pants nervously. Slowly, Tama crawled out of the waistband.
    Motoko pressed herself into the corner, looking around desperately for some place to hide. But there was no escape.
    The turtle leered.
    The samurai girl cringed.
    The turtle lunged --
    “Gotcha! Keitaro said, snatching Tama out of the air in mid-flight. “Have you been making trouble again?”
    “Myuh--myuh”, Tama said innocently.
    Keitaro handed him back to Suu, who was duly impressed.
    “That was the special turtle grab technique! You must have been studying with Seta again!”, she said.
    “Or Naru”, Kitsune chuckled.
    “Oh Keitaro!”, Motoko called out, forgetting for the moment that she hated him, and that she was in her underwear. She ran to him, and embraced him in gratitude.
    “This is the time that Naru usually walks in”, Keitaro thought to himself. “Oh no! I have to get her away from me before Naru sees us. “Mmfh! Motoko, I --”, he said, trying to break free, but the more he moved around, the more aware he was of Motoko’s body pressed against him.
    “So -- soft --”
    Just then Naru walked in.
    “You PERVERT!”
    “What the hell are you doing to Motoko!?”, she shouted, punching Keitaro, sending him flying. “Motoko, are you all right?”
    “It was awful!”, Motoko said. “I’m probably going to need years of therapy to recover from this. For now, I’d just like my . . . clothes?”
    Motoko looked just in time to see Suu stuffing her kimono and hakama into her bag.
    “Give that back this instant!”
    “Nu-uh!”, Kitsune scolded, holding up the hangers with the lingerie on them. “Not until you uphold your end of the bargain. You’ll get your clothes back after you’ve picked out an outfit to wear.”
    “We never made any such bargain!”
    Suu held up Tama. Motoko flapped her arms wildly.
    “Do we have a deal now?”
    “Fine, you win.”

    * * * * * * * *

    Kitsune and Naru stood outside while Motoko changed. While they were waiting, Naru’s eyes were drawn to a swimsuit hanging in the corner.
    “Mmm, I miss Pararakelse”, Naru thought to herself. The weather had been getting cold of late, and the thought of tropical beaches made her lose herself for a moment in dreamy reflection. “He may be a dork”, Naru thought. “But Keitaro does look good with a tan.” And on the beach, with the warm sand, and crashing waves, it was only natural for her to wear a swim suit. So if Keitaro did happen to look -- not that she WANTED him to, or anything, but if he did happen to see her -- in a string bikini -- maybe that was okay too --
    “Hey Naru, maybe you should get something fun to wear for Keitaro while you’re here?”
    “What? Me? That pervert? No way! It’s not like that! We’re just friends -- I don’t see him that way!”
    “Oh really?” Kitsune pried. “Then you won’t mind if I try to snag him for myself, will you?” she asked, as she went into one of the other stalls.
    “Uh -- I -- that is to say, uh -- just why are YOU dressed up, anyway!?”
    Kitsune laughed. She was wearing a pale blue corset and garter set.
    “Why for fun, of course.”
    Motoko peeked out over the top of the stall door.
    “Are you ready yet? Let’s get Keitaro in here!”
    “No!!!!!”, both Naru and Motoko shouted in unison.
    “Why on earth would you want to bring Urashima back here?”
    “Why, to have our male opinion, of course.”
    “But are you sure that he even qualifies as being male?” Naru asked. I mean, he’s barely a man --”
    “Barely is right”, Kitsune teased, making Motoko hide behind the changing room door. “But he’ll have to do -- Oh Keitaro!”
    “I don’t want Urashima to see me like this.”
    “I totally agree”, Naru said hastily.
    “Yes, Kitsune, what is --”
    “I proudly give you our first annual Hinata House Fashion show, starring our very own blue mountain girl, Miss Motoko Aoyama!”
    Keitaro froze. Motoko was wearing a corset made of scarlet satin, re-enforced with lines of black boning that ran up and down the waist, serving to emphasize her perfect hourglass figure. It had a matching garter belt, which held up a pair of black stockings, and a pair of red panties. The upper and lower edges of both the panties and the corset were edged with a ruffle of lace, which only served to further emphasize where the satin fabric gave way to the pale skin of Motoko's body. For a finishing touch, Kitsune had pinned on a tiny black top hat to one side of her hair, set with a red rose.
    Motoko's face was an equally bright red. In her embarrassment, she turned to the side, and tried to cover herself, but that only made the pose that much more suggestive.
    “Um, Keitaro?” Kitsune asked. “It’s probably a good idea to breathe at some point --”
    “M -- M -- M -- M --”
    Motoko stormed back into the dressing room.
    “See! He thinks I’m ugly! I told you I don’t have the figure for this! Now he thinks I’m hideous!”
    “Oh, he doesn’t think you're hideous --”
    “But that look on his face --”
    “Motoko, he was dumbstruck by your BEAUTY.”
    “He . . .was? You really think Urashima . . . LIKED the way I look?”, she asked, glancing at her back in the mirror.
    “I don’t have to think -- I know! Now lets get you into your next outfit!”
    “My NEXT outfit!?”
    “She’ll be ready in just a sec--” Kitsune said, grinning over the top of the door.
    “What’s with the fur!? Kitsune! This thing is see through!”
    “I call this next little number 'Samurai Catgirl In Love!' Aren’t the little ears just so cute?”
    Keitaro gasped. Before Motoko could say anything, Kitsune pulled her back into the changing booth.
    “Next we have 'Geisha Motoko' -- note the bow's in the front, for easy access -- followed by 'Nights In White Satin Motoko' -- I hear this one's a honeymoon favorite . . ."
    Naru glared
    " -- and of course, we can’t leave out 'Bondage Motoko' -- here, don’t forget your whip!”
    Kitsune paraded Motoko out. The poor samurai girl was wearing a halter top, made completely of black leather. It had been split down the front, from top to bottom, and the only thing that guarded her modesty -- or what was left of it -- was a pair of black laces that wound sinuously back and forth, creeping up her body. There were various hoops, straps and buckles, as well as several strategically placed zippers, whose puposes Keitaro could only guess at. No doubt Kitsune could have explained in greater detail. The chain hanging from the collar around her neck jingled. Motoko tried in vain to parry his gaze with a riding crop.
    "You want to hold her leash?"
    Keitaro hit overload.
    “I -- I -- I -- I --”
    Naru watched Keitaro’s eyes travel up and down Motoko’s body.
    “I can’t let him think of her like this!” she said to herself. “Motoko! I’ll protect your honor from this pervert!” she shouted, hitting Keitaro with an upper cut, and sending him flying.
    Motoko covered her mouth as she coughed to herself.
    “Thank you, Naru.”
    “Oh, it was nothing. Don’t mention it.”

    (To Be Continued . . .)

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  17. #17
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    The Chapter 4 is funny and nice, Ammaranth! Bah, Keitaro lives only giving punch it ...

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  18. #18
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    If you think just getting PUNCHED was bad . . . :O

    A/N: I'm trying some new formatting to improve the read-ability of the text. I know that the earlier chapters have been kind of bunched up, and not particularly reader-friendly. I hope this will be an improvement. Please let me know that you think of the new format, and the chapter in general. As always, thank you for reading.


    Chapter 5

    “W-A-A-A-A-A-H-H-H-H ! ! ! !”

    Keitaro screamed as he dropped out of orbit. He passed right through the stratosphere. Hitting the atmosphere jarred him a little, and he began to trail flames as the heat of re-entry scorched all around him, as Comet Keitaro came hurtling towards the earth. As he descended, the plastic T-Rex in the toy store on the other side of the mall shuddered, as if remembering something terrible. There was a deafening “CRASH!”, followed by a surprisingly soft “thud” as Keitaro made splashdown in the “3 for $10 Panties Sale” bin. In the ensuing explosion of silk and lace, many fine undergarments lost their lives, but Keitaro Urashima was spared.

    “Ow!’, he said, holding his jaw. “Why’d she have to go and hit me again? It’s not like this was my idea or anything”, he complained. “Then again, seeing Motoko like that -- I should probably thank Naru -- I don’t know how much more of that I could take!”

    As Keitaro stirred, he noticed a clearance rack with a big red sign that happily proclaimed that all swim wear was now 75% off. Keitaro sighed.

    “I’d love to be on Parara -- Para-para -- whatever the heck that one island was! It’s so cold --” he said, taking an orange bathing suit off the rack.

    ‘Oh wow! I’d love to see Naru in something like this!” Keitaro said to himself, looking over his shoulder, fearing that she would somehow read his mind and punch him just for thinking it.

    Suddenly, as if he wish had been granted, the bathing suit began to take shape. The top filled out before his very eyes.

    “Wha? I must be dreaming!”

    “Why Keitaro, what are you doing here?” Mutsumi asked, as she peeked over the top at him. “Oh -- are you buying that for Naru?”

    “Huh -- wha? This? No way!”

    “Fu - fu - fu -- Maybe it’s for me then?” Mutsumi giggled.

    “Well you see, it’s a long story, I--”

    At this point Keitaro suddenly realized he was still laying in what was left of the panty sale bin.
    “It’s not what you think!”

    “How disappointing”, Mutsumi giggled again. “But they are having a great sale today -- see what I found? It’s a bikini, and the top is printed to look like watermelons!”

    She held the top up to herself to demonstrate. Keitaro’s eyes became as big as watermelons themselves.

    “Oh no, he fainted!”

    * * * * * * * *

    "Yep, this is just what I need for my little snag Keitaro plan", Kitsune said, eyeing herself in the mirror. "You sure you don't mind, Naru?"

    "I TOLD you, I'm not interested in HIM!!"

    Kitsune gave her friend a sideways glance, then turned back to the mirror, and smoothed the pale blue corset around her waist.

    "One look at me, and he won't stand a chance -- the poor thing --"

    Naru looked down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

    "Well, that is to say, I -- uh . . ."

    There was a loud crash from inside the changing room.

    "Damnit, this thing's riding up my -- Kitsune! What's the point of all these stupid frills and lace!?"

    "Why to be pleasing to the eye, of course!" Kitsune said, turning to the side to admire herself from a different view.

    “Who cares what it looks like!”, Motoko went on. “No one’s ever going to see it anyway!”

    “Oh, someone might one day”, Kitsune said. “But that’s not the point. A woman should never dress up or make herself look pretty JUST for someone else. It’s not about who sees you, Motoko. It’s about how you see yourself. A young lady should dress up because SHE thinks she is beautiful”, Kitsune said, then added quietly, “Even if, deep down, sometimes she’s afraid no one else sees her that way . . ."

    Naru looked at Kitsune wonderingly.

    “Come on Motoko, aren’t you ready yet?”

    The bouncy fox-girl had returned.

    “Argh. Just a minute.”

    “Well you aren’t getting these clothes back until you make up your mind.”

    There was dead silence. And then the squeak of the changing room door. Motoko was standing in the doorway in a bra and panties. In true miko fashion, the bra was white, with solid cups, and a piece of translucent lace that went between them. The panties were red, and edged with red lace, with roses embroidered at the top. Together the two gave her a sense of elegant allure which, while it didn’t seem the least bit out of place on her, one could tell it was something Motoko wasn’t altogether comfortable with.

    “So -- um -- what do you think?”

    Kitsune and Naru were both silent.

    “Yeah, I didn’t think so either -- I’ll uh, just go get changed --”

    “Why Motoko!” Kitsune said. “You’re beautiful!”

    “I’m sure anyone - cough - anyone would think you look lovely”, Naru said guardedly.

    “So it’s settled. Satin Miko Motoko is a stunning success!” Kitsune said. “Now are you sure they’re not too GIRLY for you”, she teased. “I mean, those little flowers are awfully cute and all --”

    “They’re on sale”, Motoko said smugly. “And they are easy to care for. A samurai values frugality and practicality”, she said stoicly. And then she added quietly to herself, “And it might be okay if they were just a little bit cute . . .”

    “What was that?”

    “Nothing!” Motoko coughed.

    “Personally, I would have gone with the ones with the removable crotch”, Kistune said. “But as long as you’re happy with them. Do you need anything else while we’re here? Maybe one of those little riding crops?”

    “Well that corset top did provide excellent support -- I’m sure that would be useful in battle --”

    “Would you like me to hand it to you while you’re back here?”

    “Maybe another time.”

    Kitsune nodded agreeably.

    “Okay then, we’ll wait out here.”

    Kitsune waited until Motoko had gone back into the dressing room before opening one of her fox eyes. She chuckled to herself.

    “And now for the REAL test.”

    * * * * * * * *

    “Keitaro! Come quick! There’s a pervert trying to get Motoko!”

    “A pervert? Where!?” Keitaro shouted as he got up from the pile of panties and went running into the women’s dressing room.

    “Oh me, oh my” Mutsumi said. “Keitaro is going to save Motoko from the pervert -- but who is going to save the pervert from Motoko?”

    “Motoko! I’ll save yo -- uhh-- ”

    Keitaro stopped short. Motoko’s was facing away from him. Her arms were behind her back, where they had just unfastened the clasp of her new brassiere.

    “Motoko -- I --”


    “Wait, I can -- “

    “Secret technique: PERVERT SPLITTING SWORD!!”


    “Hmm”, Kitsune said as she bent over Keitaro’s lifeless body. “That was a full force whack, and yet you didn’t kill him -- I’d call this a successful test. Why, he barely even has a scratch.”

    Keitaro groaned.

    “That’s because the injuries are all internal . . .”

    you can read it here on animeb by going to:

  19. #19
    Soon in Uruguay... Sorocabano's Avatar
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    Another great chapter. The story is getting very good!

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  20. #20
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    Well, it's time again -- time for the last time, as this is the last chapter. Thanks once more to everyone who's been reading this, and especially to those who've commented. If you can, please take a moment to let me know what you think of it, now that the story is finished. I hope you've enjoyed it, that I kept the characters fairly accurate, and that it gave you a chuckle or two along the way. Thank you again,

    Your Humble Author,


    (EDIT: And this is my 300th post, too. Sweet! I mean, I've only been on here for four years now, and I finally hit 300 posts )

    Chapter 6

    “Miss Aoyama, you wanted to see me?”
    Motoko turned to look at Keitaro, who gestured for her to go on. She turned back to face her coach.
    “Ahem”, she coughed, “Thanks to the support of Keitaro, I have found new ways to restrain my physique -- er, I mean technique.”
    The coach did not move from behind his desk. He picked up a pile of class rosters, and flipped through them disinterestedly.
    “Urashima?” He said from behind them. “You’re Motoko’s --”
    “Sparring partner”, Motoko said hastily.
    The coach lowered his stack of papers, and raised an eyebrow as he looked at Keitaro.
    “Sparring partner?” he repeated. “You’re a brave man . . .”
    He raised the papers again, and went back to reading. Motoko and Keitaro exchanged a nervous look. Just when it seemed he wouldn’t say anything else, his voice came from behind the papers again.
    “You can work out with the rest of the girls this week. And if there are no more incidents, I’ll put you back on the team.”
    Motoko beamed. But she still managed to keep her composure. She bowed to the coach very formally.
    “Thank you, sir.”
    She turned, and after stopping at the door to bow again, made her way out into the hall.
    “So how did it go?”, Kitsune asked, after they had closed the door.
    “We did it!” Keitaro exclaimed. “Motoko, I just knew you could find a way!”
    “Oh man!”, Motoko said.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “A whole week -- I should have bought more than one pair of panties!”

    * * * * * * * *

    “Point Aoyama -- Aoyama wins! She’s done it, folks! Miss Aoyama has done it! Miss Motoko Aoyama is the next Kendo Champion for Nakahara Prefecture!”
    The crowd roared to its feet.
    “Way to go Motoko!”
    “We knew you could do it!”
    “Woohoo! The drinks are on me!”
    “We should get something to eat!”
    “Better yet, I’ll MAKE us something special to eat!”
    Motoko smiled as she walked over. She was carrying her helmet in one hand. Her wooden sword was in the other, with it’s blade resting over her shoulder. Her hair was still up in the bandana she wore inside of her face mask.
    “What are you guys doing way up there?”, she asked.
    “But we’re in the first row”, Su said.
    “Yeah, the floor is only for participants”, Keitaro noted.
    “Get down here”, Motoko said, gesturing with her shinai.
    Keitaro and Naru exchanged glances.
    “Oh why the heck not”, Naru said, and she made her way down the stairs, and onto the arena floor. Everyone else followed her.
    “Um, are you sure it’s okay for us to be down here?”, Shinobu asked nervously.
    “Of course”, Motoko said. “No one’s going to mind. The tournament’s over. And besides, if it wasn’t for you guys, I wouldn’t even BE here in the FIRST place.”
    “Well that IS true”, Kitsune noted. “You can pay us back by drinking with us tonight!”
    “Wow, Motoko”, Shinobu gasped as she looked at the player’s benches. “This is so cool!”
    Motoko smiled.
    “Ugh. This armor is heavy on me. You guys wait here while I go get changed.”
    An announcement went over the intercom,
    “And now, we’ll have a brief intermission, before the presentation of the awards ceremony --”
    Naru made her way over to Keitaro
    “What’s that look for?”
    She glared at him.
    “I’m not cold”, she announced, before taking hold of his arm, and pressing herself against him.
    “Whoa”, Keitaro thought to himself. “What is this all about?”
    “Can it, you big dork”, she said, reading his thoughts, “Before I change my mind.”
    Keitaro turned to look out at the field. Naru sighed.
    “You may be a hopeless loser, but I have to admit, it was pretty cool, the way you helped Motoko, and stuck with it all the way through. I guess sometimes you’re not so bad”, she said, winking and sticking her tongue out at him.
    Keitaro smiled.
    “I’m just glad Motoko was able to participate in the tournament. And the fact that she won -- it really is amazing -- then again, I guess it’s not all THAT surprising -- I mean, it IS Motoko we’re talking about . . .”
    He and Naru shared a chuckle together. Meanwhile, the coach’s assistants were busy running all over the field, gathering up the bouquets of roses that had been thrown by the fans.
    “Wow”, Naru said. “Look at all of those flowers! Motoko certainly is getting to be popular. ”
    “Yeah, I know. I never thought people would throw roses at a Kendo tournament --”
    “Well now, Motoko is a very beautiful young lady”, Kitsune said mischievously, as she leaned heavily on both of them. “Keitaro, you better make your move on her now, before she gets to be completely out of your league!”
    Naru and Shinobu shouted in unison.
    Keitaro blushed.
    “No one’s going to take my sempai away from me!”
    Keitaro and Naru stared. Kitsune backed away.
    “Um, Shinobu, put the sword down honey --”
    Just then, an announcement went over the PA system.
    “All right folks, in just one moment, we’ll begin with the presentation of the awards --”
    “Oh no!”, Shinobu said, letting the shinai fall harmlessly. “Where’s Motoko?”
    “She’s not on the stage!”, Naru said. “If she doesn’t get up there quick, she’ll miss getting her trophy!”
    “Keitaro, quick, find her!” Kitsune said.
    “Huh -- wha -- me?”
    “Hurry up”, she said, pushing him along, “Before it’s too late!”
    “In third place this evening, we have a young lady from Fukuoka. Everyone give a big hand to Miss Seki Nakahara!”
    “Oh no!” Keitaro said, his voice getting lost against the background of cheers, “I better get a move on! Motoko!” he called, as he made his way back and forth along the sidelines. He checked every one of the benches, but she wasn’t there.
    “And in second place, coming all the way from Hokkaido, from the town of Sapporo . . .”
    The voice on the loudspeaker grew faint behind him as he made his way into the dugout.
    “That was second place”, he said, “Motoko’s up next -- where could she be? Motoko!”, he called, his voice echoing off of the concrete walls. “MOTOKO! You’re going to be late for --”
    He rounded the corner of the locker room just in time to see Motoko slip off her gi top. Her armor was in a duffel bag on the floor. Her hakama were neatly folded on the bench. Her kimono was in her hands. That left only her underwear.
    “Motoko, I can explain --”
    Keitaro ran for his life.
    “And now, ladies and gentlemen --”
    He could hear the voice on the speaker getting louder as he got closer and closer to the door.
    “Urashima, I’m going to KILL YOU!”
    “ -- the winner of Raika High’s 128th annual fencing championship --”
    “Help! I’m too young to die!” Keitaro screamed.
    “Miss Kendo herself -- Motoko Aoyama!”
    Keitaro burst on stage, followed closely by Motoko. As they burst out of the locker room, with the muffled noise of the announcer and the crowd exploding all around them, Motoko suddenly realized she was still wearing her bra and panties. And nothing else.
    The crowd cheered.
    Motoko froze.
    A thousand flash bulbs went off at once.
    Someone handed her the giant trophy, along with a bouquet of two dozen rozes. A pink banner printed with the words, “Miss Kendo 20xx”, was draped over her shoulder. The dazzle of flashes continued.
    “We love you Motoko!”
    “Marry me, Motoko!”
    “Are those 36 C’s?”
    Motoko shivered. And not from the cold.
    “U - R - A - S - H - I - M - A ! ! ! !”

    * * * * * * * *

    “I still can’t believe you turned down the money”, Kitsune said. They were back at Hinata House. Haruka was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper with the headline, “Kendo Champion Turns Down Multi-Million Dollar Lingerie Endorsement Deal” Motoko was lying in a futon on the floor, with a cloth on her forehead.
    “So sick . . .” she mumbled around the thermometer in her mouth.
    Kitsune shook her head.
    “Well that’s what you get for parading around in your underwear in the rain.”
    “Motoko”, Shinobu called. “Your hot soup is ready.”
    “Here”, Kitsune said, “Have Keitaro bring it to her.”
    “Why me!?” Keitaro said, trying to run away, but Kitsune grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar.
    “Because you’re almost impossible to kill. So out of all of us, you have the best possible chance of surviving this mission.”
    Motoko groaned.
    “I’ll get you, Urashima . . .”

    The End
    Last edited by Ammaranth; 8 Mar 2010 at 12:29 am. Reason: CELEBRATION! Woot, woot!

    you can read it here on animeb by going to:


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