Strange Love
Author's note:
This is based off of the Love Hina manga, not anime -
I know some of the same things happen, but I've not
seen the anime, so I'm working with what I have. The
events discussed happen throughout the fifth volume of
the manga.
* * *
Kitsune rolled over with her dark-haired lover
beneath her, reveling in the feeling of the other
girl's flesh against her own, trying not to smirk but
utterly failing. She didn't care, and she didn't
think her new lover did either.
"Told you," she said, her voice half laugh and half
gasp. It was all she could do to keep from giggling
madly. She wasn't sure how long they'd been in bed,
but she was already in that wonderful state of being
tired enough to sleep but giddy and thrilled enough to
stay awake for at least another few hours.
"And I told you," the strong girl beneath her said,
her voice only slightly less controlled than usual,
"that I prefer to be on top."
Kitsune's lover rolled the two of them right off of
the futon, her lips close enough for the light-haired
girl to feel her hot breath on her neck. . . .
. . . and Kitsune felt her head hit the floor,
jolting her out of her dream and leaving her feeling
very, very cheated.
She blinked, her eyes bleary, then groaned and yanked
the covers over herself as she realized that, once
again, it had only been a dream. Maybe, she thought,
she should drink less before going to bed. Maybe she
should drink more. Or maybe she should get off her
ass and actually say something about what she'd
realized.
Kitsune muttered and rolled back onto her futon, glad
it was still warm but wishing she wasn't the only one
warming it. Then again, if it was any warmer, she'd
start to sweat, and there wasn't much point in doing
that alone. She stared up at the ceiling, and at the
ring of beer bottles that sat atop the shelf that
circled her room. She had to do something about this,
she knew. Even a professional slacker like her could
only put things off for so long.
She still wasn't sure if she could call herself a
lesbian, or if she was just bi, or even if it was just
some really intense kind of curiosity. She knew that
she'd started feeling something for women at least as
much as men before she came to Hinata, but living here
had only made it worse. Even Keitaro, as cute as he
was sometimes, couldn't change that. The real
question was whether or not she was the only one here
who felt the same way. Kitsune stretched a little,
then flopped her arms down, and started counting.
There was something a little reassuring about it, even
if she was only making guesses.
"Let's see. . . ." she said quietly to herself,
counting off on her fingers. "Shinobu? Probably not,
she's already set herself up to be the perfect little
homemaker. Naru? Nah. Keitaro's the only guy she's
noticed since Seta, and we all know how that's turning
out, but I never saw her even glance sideways when we
were in the locker room in high school. Sarah? Has
to hit puberty first. Haruka?" She paused. "I doubt
it, but I don't think I wanna know either way. Su?"
She laughed to herself, and blew a few stray hairs out
of her face. "That's anybody's guess, though who
knows what she and Motoko get up to when they're
sharing a bedroom. Motoko. . . ."
Motoko . . . the only one of the Hinata House girls
who'd actively disliked Keitaro when he first showed
up. Sure, Naru had been on his case pretty hard, but
that was because she thought he was just a pervert.
Motoko . . . the only one of the Hinata House girls
who said that she didn't like men. Kitsune knew that
she could be jumping to conclusions on that one; not
liking men didn't automatically mean liking women.
But it was a start, and it was very, very hard to keep
herself from wondering. It was also very hard to keep
herself from thinking about the other girl, though she
could never quite place what drew to her so much.
Motoko was strong and yet soft at the same time, and
so quick to blush despite how noble and unaffected she
seemed sometimes. Kitsune giggled. Yes, Motoko was
strong . . . and in good shape . . . probably could go
quite a while without resting. . . .
Kitsune twisted her fingers around each other, then
brought them down to her chest. She growled to
herself. "Motoko," she said, grinning.
It was a while before she managed to get out of bed.
At some point afterward, the thought occurred to her:
shouldn't she be sure about how she felt, one way or
another, before she started in on someone else? Even
if she did have her suspicions and doubts about Motoko
- to say nothing of her hopes, wishes, desires,
blatant lusts, and things that made her feel all
squishy inside - it wouldn't do much good if she woke
up with the girl only to realize it wasn't what she
really wanted.
So, Kitsune thought as she pulled on her clothes,
she'd have to find a test subject. Naturally, there
was only one person who qualified for that. She
snatched a few tissues from a box in her room and
stuck them in her pocket, then slid open her bedroom
door.
Kitsune looked up and down the hallway. The floor
was shining clean; Keitaro must have been at it
already this morning. She smirked. That would mean
he'd be tired, so her little test would be easier.
She glanced back and forth, then stepped out. "Hey,
Keitaro! Landlord-person, where are you?"
That was strange, she thought. Usually there'd be at
least one other person around to hear her. That was
one of the things about Hinata; even if everyone was
all in one place they seemed like they could be
anywhere else at a moment's notice. She shrugged, and
headed out, then stopped when she heard something
clunking. Dashing toward the sound, she found Keitaro
putting his cleaning supplies back into a closet next
to the bathroom.
"Morning, Keitaro," she said, not bothering to try to
sound innocent.
"Oh, good morning . . . Kitsune," Keitaro said,
breathing heavily. He was sweating and looked tired,
and his hands had a few band-aids on them. "I just
heard Shinobu call for breakfast, you going?"
"Yeah," Kitsune said, stepping closer. "But I need
your help with something." She leaned in close to
him, and winked at him as he started to blush. "You
gonna help me?"
"Um . . . Kitsune, what're you . . . I. . . ."
"That's a yes." She grabbed him by the shoulders and
pushed him against the wall, then planted her lips on
his. A few seconds later, after his first bit of
struggling was over, she considered putting her tongue
to use just to be sure, but she already had her
answer, and pulled away.
"Nope," Kitsune said to herself as Keitaro collapsed
to the floor. "Didn't feel a thing." She pulled the
tissues out of her pocket and stuffed them up his
nose, then headed to the dining room.
"Morning!" she called as she walked up to the table.
Everyone else was already there, and she could tell
that Shinobu had cooked, as usual. The only other
person who might have made breakfast was Naru, and it
looked too good to have been her work.
"Good morning, Kitsune," Shinobu said as Kitsune sat
down. "Did you sleep well?"
Kitsune felt her face start to turn red again as the
dream suddenly came back to her. "Really well," she
said, starting to smile, "just not enough."
"Yeah, Keitaro pulled an all-nighter again last
night," Naru said, sounding a bit put out. "Then he
started cleaning first thing this morning. That idiot
woke me up too."
Kitsune almost said something about what had really
woken her up, but decided that some things just
weren't best to talk about during breakfast. She
figured that Keitaro's current condition, and why he
was in it, fell into the same category.
"All the same, he is showing considerable discipline,
to do so much on so little sleep," Motoko said, and
raised her bowl to her mouth to finish off her rice.
"If he can apply the same to his studies, then perhaps
he'll actually achieve something."
"Hey, Motoko," Kitsune said as soon as the
black-haired girl lowered her bowl, "you got a little
rice right here." She flicked her tongue at the
corner of her mouth.
Motoko paused, then wiped at the corner of her mouth
with her finger. "I don't feel anything."
"Other side," Kitsune said, flicking her tongue
farther out to the side and trying not to laugh.
Motoko wiped again, then looked at Kitsune, seeming
slightly confused. "Are you sure? I still don't feel
anything."
"Keep looking," Kitsune said, unable to keep herself
from winking at Motoko. She looped her tongue out
across her cheek as far as she could get it. "You're
close, I swear!"
"You have a long tongue, Kitsune," Su said in between
bananas. "Hey, can you do the cherry stem thingy?"
Kitsune laughed out loud, grinning at Su. "It's been
a long time since I tried that. Hey, Naru, remember
doing that back in high school?" The confused blink
she got from Naru told her all that she needed to
know. "This girl we knew had a bunch of 'em," she
said, turning to the whole table, "and Naru spent the
entire lunch period trying to get it right. I, of
course," she said with her customary smirk, "got it on
the first time."
"God, Kitsune, I can't believe you remember that!"
Naru said loudly, sounding almost upset.
"What, you still mad that you couldn't get it?"
Kitsune asked.
"Does that mean you're not a good kisser, Naru?" Su
asked. Somehow, Kitsune thought, she sounded
innocent. But just barely.
"How should I. . . ." Naru's face turned bright red,
and she stood up so quickly she knocked her chair
over. "I'm finished, thank you for the meal!" She
ran off, and the sound of her clomping up the stairs
came a moment later.
"I guess that's a yes," Kitsune said, watching Naru
go. She looked back at the rest of her friends, still
grinning. "So, how about the rest of you? Shinobu?
Motoko?" She winked at Motoko. "Or should we just
guess about that, since you didn't go after the rice
with your--"
"I've no intention of trying something so
ridiculous!" Motoko stood, though not as fast as Naru
had. "Thank you for the meal, Shinobu. I have
training to do." She stalked out of the dining room.
Kitsune watched her go, and couldn't help thinking
that things just weren't looking good. She looked
over at Su and Shinobu. The younger girl looked
mildly traumatized - not that it was difficult,
Kitsune thought - while Su just looked curious. "Hmm,
maybe not," Kitsune said.
*
Later that day, Kitsune headed out to the deck area
where Motoko usually practiced her sword work. She'd
already had a few beers, the better to get her tongue
loosened and to keep her from worrying. Not that she
really worried, ever, but she'd felt like having the
beers anyway.
She walked up the steps to the deck, a half-finished
beer in one hand, doing her best to keep quiet. While
surprising someone with a sword might not be the best
idea, she liked the thought of catching Motoko off
guard. People tended to be more honest when they were
surprised, and honesty was important in
relationship-type stuff, as she'd tried to tell Naru.
Not that Naru had listened much, but Kitsune still
thought the idea was a good one.
Motoko was, of course, hard at work and didn't notice
the other woman. Kitsune leaned up against the deck
railing and watched the kendo girl's form, her smooth
movements and lithe figure. She reminded Kitsune of
some kind of jungle cat, and she couldn't help
wondering just what kind of beast was lurking beneath
Motoko's calm facade. She could feel herself starting
to blush, and knew a big happy grin was working its
way onto her face. Hopefully she could pass it off
and blame the beer.
As the black-haired girl finished the final moves of
one of her katas and slid her sword back into its
sheath, Kitsune applauded. Motoko actually jumped as
she turned around, and looked very surprised to see
Kitsune standing there. Her hand was still on her
sword, and she started to pull it out, then slid the
blade back down.
"What," Kitsune said with a grin, "you think I was
Keitaro or something?"
"He's more likely to sneak up on me than you are,"
Motoko said, not taking her hand off of her sword.
"You've never come up to watch me before."
"Something about a girl with a sword," Kitsune said,
trying to sound a little playful but not too much, so
she didn't scare Motoko off again. She took a sip of
her beer. "You know," she continued, starting to walk
toward the other girl, "it's kinda masculine but kinda
not?"
She started to walk around Motoko, looking at her
from all angles as the kendo girl stood there looking
almost nervous. It was all Kitsune could do to keep
herself from giggling. This was just too much fun,
even if nothing came of it. She almost patted
Motoko's ass as she went by, but managed to restrain
herself.
"We've . . . been over this," Motoko said hesitantly.
"You were there. A woman who is unfeminine, balanced
by a man who is unmasculine." She paused, and gave
Kitsune a questioning look as she walked in front of
her. "Where is Urashima, anyway? He wasn't at
breakfast this morning."
"Eh, he probably knocked himself out from cleaning
and studying, you know how he is," Kitsune said
quickly. "But why the concern?" She leaned a little
closer, just enough to make Motoko start to lean back.
She could smell the other girl's sweat. "I thought
you didn't like him."
"That doesn't mean I don't want him to pass his
exams," Motoko said quickly, then visibly relaxed as
Kitsune leaned back. "He's proven that he's not
completely worthless, but if he can't apply himself -
Kitsune, what are you doing?"
Kitsune stroked the tips of her fingers over the
smooth wood of Motoko's sword's handle, turning to
stand next to the other girl and still trying hard not
to laugh. "But you still don't like him much,"
Kitsune said, acting like she hadn't heard Motoko's
question. "Or do you just not like men in general,
like you've said?"
"I don't see what that has to do with anything,"
Motoko said, her voice carefully controlled. She
started to step away from Kitsune, but was stopped
when the other woman wrapped her hand around the
sword's grip.
"What," Kitsune said playfully, "you don't want me
touching your sword?"
She let go of the sword and stepped back, then downed
the rest of her beer. Motoko was visibly blushing.
Kitsune wondered for a moment if she'd gone a little
too far, and stepped back to the railing again.
Motoko didn't move, but watched Kitsune the whole way.
"Kitsune," the dark-haired girl said after a moment.
"Yeah?"
"Just how much have you had to drink this morning?"
Kitsune raised the can she held to her eye, shook it,
then shrugged. "Not enough to make me do something I
shouldn't, I hope," she said, then headed down the
stairs and back to the house.
Once she was out of Motoko's sight, Kitsune hurried
back to her room and shut the door. She held it in
for just a second, then burst out laughing so hard
that she collapsed to the floor. Sure, she might have
gone a little too far, but she still hadn't done
anything blatant. If she'd started touching Motoko's
flat stomach or her strong arms or. . . .
"I'm gonna drive myself crazy," Kitsune whispered to
herself. "But I can't help it. And she didn't start
trying to kill me like she does with Keitaro, so
maybe, just maybe. . . ." She started laughing again,
and couldn't help considering all the wonderful
possibilities.
*
Motoko waded through the open-air bath and found a
place to sit down, then splashed the warm water on her
face, washing away the last few traces of sweat but
not the questions that were spinning through her mind.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep
herself from thinking about Kitsune's odd behavior
less than an hour ago. The other woman had always
been somewhat inscrutable to Motoko - she seemed set
on indulging in nothing but the pleasures of life, no
matter what they may be or what shape they would leave
her in. Motoko had to admit to herself, she'd scoffed
at Kitsune's lack of discipline but couldn't help
noticing that she seemed to enjoy herself a great
deal.
"Is that all she was doing?" Motoko said quietly to
herself. "Finding another way to enjoy herself, at my
expense?"
After a moment's thought, Motoko shook her head.
Kitsune might be lazy, a lush, and a host of other
things besides, but she was a good person despite all
that. Perhaps even because of all that. Not everyone
could be a warrior, and it was probably for the best
that Kitsune did not try to follow that path; Motoko
couldn't hold her to that.
She then realized the line of thought was leading her
absolutely nowhere. She headed over to the edge of
the bath, and dumped a bucket of colder water over her
head, hoping to clear it. The water had some of the
desired effect, and Motoko sat down again.
Kitsune had come to watch her practice, as she never
had before. That in itself was a surprise, but it
could mean many things - for all she knew, Kitsune
could have just been bored. She didn't seem bored,
though. If anything, she seemed very, very
interested. Motoko felt herself starting to blush at
the implications, and quickly moved on.
She remembered the look on Kitsune's face, that gleam
in her eyes, and tried to think of the last time she'd
seen it. There had been a moment, she was sure of it,
but why couldn't she think of when it had happened?
She leaned back against the rock and stared up at the
sky and the roof of Hinata House, trying to remember.
A sudden movement at one of the house's raised decks
caught her eye, and she reached for her towel and her
sword, wondering if it was Urashima again. To her
slight relief, she saw that it was only Shinobu with
the laundry. She seemed to have a heavier load than
usual today, and Motoko watched to see what it was.
Shinobu started pulling out some silken robes with
prints on them, and hung them on the line. Motoko
nodded to herself. The yukata were Haruka's, but she
still found a use for them from time to time-
Motoko's eyes widened as she gasped. She remembered
wearing a yukata for the summer festival at the beach,
when she and the others had been working at Haruka's
beach café. Kitsune had been there, of course, and
she had said the oddest things - telling Motoko that
the yukata looked very nice on her, and that she was
supposed to be going naked underneath it . . . even
going so far as to say "That's my little traditional
girl." Motoko had passed it off as Kitsune being
Kitsune at the time, but now. . . .
She drew back against the rocks, clutching her towel
to her chest as she tried to breathe evenly. How
could she have forgotten that? Kitsune had that look
in her eyes even then, that vaguely lascivious glaze,
hinting that she . . . that she. . . .
"Did she mean that?" Motoko whispered, unable to keep
herself from putting words to her thoughts. "Could
she actually be serious? And. . . ." She felt her
face growing warm. "And why am I blushing?"
She'd blushed then too, she remembered. Kitsune had
been tugging gently on the shoulder of her yukata,
almost as though she wanted to see more . . . to see
what was under it, to see if Motoko had still wrapped
her breasts beneath it. . . .
There were other times, now that she thought about
it. Shortly after they'd arrived at the beach,
Kitsune had been just short of insistent about putting
some lotion on her back. And only a day after that,
when Urashima's friends had showed up at the café,
Kitsune had encouraged her not to worry about it as
they all drank . . . had Kitsune been trying to get
her to relax, or had there been something else on her
mind?
Motoko paused, closed her eyes for a moment, and took
a deep breath. That, she thought, was out of line.
Kitsune was wild in her own way, but wouldn't have
been trying to get her drunk if she'd had other plans.
The other woman was direct enough that she would come
out and say something if she wanted to. At least,
that was what Motoko hoped would happen in this case.
Until then, she would have to do her best to not make
assumptions, to wait and see what happened.
She had to admit, though, she felt herself filling
with an odd sort of anticipation at wondering just
what Kitsune would or wouldn't say. How long had it
been since someone had shown any interest in her, even
the slightest bit? Such romantic wonderings were
better left to others, as they were not the way of the
warrior, but if she was right about Kitsune, Motoko
couldn't help feeling a bit . . . flattered, perhaps?
Or, she thought before she had a chance to realize
what she was thinking, perhaps a little interested?
Motoko sat there, up to nearly her chin in the water,
staring at nothing, dumbfounded at the possibility.
She had to ask herself if it could be true. She had
to be honest with herself. Was that why she'd always
wanted to throw herself into her swordwork and the
warrior's way of life, because somehow she knew she'd
never want to be with a man? Was that why she didn't
care if she was feminine or not, even if Kitsune had
been one of the ones to note that she was becoming
more like that?
She paused again, and reminded herself to be
rational. She could be overreacting; she knew that
she tended to do that when confronted emotionally.
What she needed to do was find a quiet place and think
on this. By knowing herself better, and seeking her
answers for herself, within herself, she would know
her truth. She nodded to herself. She would finish
her bath, then return to her room to meditate. It was
a good plan; it was a sensible plan.
It was a plan that went right out the window when she
saw Kitsune coming out of the washing room wrapped in
a towel.
Motoko ducked her head under the water to hide her
blush. This just couldn't happen right now. Having
to confront someone about all kinds of things that
were still just possibilities less than a minute after
realizing them wasn't going to help at all. She had
to get out of here, quickly, without looking
suspicious. Hopefully that wouldn't be difficult.
She lifted her head out of the water, trying to look
like she'd been rinsing her hair, and glanced over at
Kitsune. The other woman was leaning back against the
rocks and had already shed her towel. Motoko frowned.
This was going to be more difficult than she had
thought.
"Aaaahh. . . ." Kitsune basked in the sun, and
grinned in Motoko's general direction. "Nothing like
a midmorning bath," she said.
"You say that about nearly every bath you take,"
Motoko said, sounding harsher than she meant to. She
wasn't sure if Kitsune even noticed, though - the
other woman had something of a glaze in her eyes, as
she had earlier that day. Motoko half-hoped it was
alcohol.
"Only 'cause it's true," Kitsune said casually. She
cocked her head at Motoko. "Can't tell me you don't
like it."
"Of course not," Motoko said quickly. Some part of
her mind fluttered with possible other meanings
Kitsune could have had with that statement, especially
the way she was posing, with her shoulders thrown back
and her legs stretched out and her-
"How long you been in here, Motoko?" Kitsune asked.
"You're turning red, y'know."
"I suppose it has been too long," Motoko said
quietly, then reached for her towel. She heard
Kitsune say something almost under her breath,
something that sounded like "you're telling me," but
she wasn't sure if she'd been meant to hear it or not.
After wrapping her towel around herself, she stood,
and started toward the washing room.
Of course, she had to walk past Kitsune to get there,
and the other woman's legs were stretched out across
her path. She started to step over them, then felt
Kitsune's calf rub against her own as she shifted.
Motoko felt a shiver run up her spine, and barely
stifled a gasp. She couldn't remember feeling that at
any other time in her life.
She didn't realize that she'd stopped until she felt
Kitsune's leg nudge her own again. "Motoko . . . you
all right?" Kitsune asked.
Motoko looked down at her to see the now-familiar
glaze in Kitsune's eyes. It wasn't alcohol, she was
sure of that by now. She'd looked just the same back
at the summer festival.
It was rare that she found herself unsure of what to
do, but for the life of her, Motoko couldn't keep
herself from freezing. Her mind tried to pull her in
several different directions at once - she wanted to
run, to go up to her room and think, to confront what
she might be feeling right here and now, to reject
Kitsune for making her question herself like this.
She managed to pull herself together before she did
something foolish, and simply nodded nervously at
Kitsune. "I - I'm fine," she stammered. "Excuse me."
Motoko hurried up to her room and tried to meditate,
but found that all she could think of was what had
happened so far that day. She kept replaying
Kitsune's actions on the deck and in the bath,
examining them from every possible angle and
interpretation, analyzing each word and movement in
hopes of drawing some kind of conclusion. When she
finally opened her eyes and sighed in frustration, she
had to face her realization.
Unless Kitsune was playing some kind of game, the
other woman had some kind of interest in her. And no
matter how hard she tried, Motoko couldn't deny that
there was at least a spark of the same within herself.
So, a naggingly persistent voice in her mind asked,
why try so hard to deny it?
*
Kitsune sat on the roof of Hinata House, staring out
at the sunset, three days drunk.
No, she thought, that wasn't quite right. She hadn't
been completely drunk over the past three days. Just
mostly, or at the very least, constantly buzzed. She
hadn't wanted to do much else but drink.
Three days ago, she'd been stupid enough to start
hitting on Motoko like . . . well, like some kind of
drunken horny old man. She was surprised Motoko
hadn't attacked her, especially afterward, when she'd
found her in the bath. Kitsune had to hold herself
back to keep from smacking herself on the forehead for
displaying herself like that.
"Sure," she said to herself, "it worked with every
guy I thought was cute, why wouldn't it work on
Motoko?" She groaned, and held her head in her hands.
"Just 'cause she's a little not-so-feminine doesn't
mean she's going to start drooling over me!"
She heaved a sigh, then realized she'd said that last
part out loud. She should really know better, she
thought; for all she knew, Su had some kind of remote
microphone that would just happen to be going by when
she was drunkenly baring her heart and soul up on the
roof. After a moment, she downed the rest of the beer
she held and sighed again, supposing it didn't matter.
If anything, having someone else hear her would only
make everyone sure about what they were probably
already guessing. To say there'd been odd behavior
from Motoko, especially around Kitsune, for the past
few days would be like saying Naru thwacked Keitaro
every once in a while. The black-haired girl had
turned red every time she saw Kitsune, eaten very
quickly at meals and excused herself as quickly as she
could, and had generally been avoiding her ever since
they'd been in the bath together. Hell, even Keitaro
must have noticed something going on, even if it
didn't involve Naru and wasn't part of his studying.
Kitsune had done her best to make like nothing was
bothering her, but. . . .
She had to be honest with herself. She kept
encouraging Naru to do that, and if she couldn't do
the same for herself, then what good was it? More
than that, she had to be honest with Motoko. She knew
the other girl well enough; Motoko always spoke up if
she really had a problem with something. For Motoko
to just be avoiding her, she was probably unsure of
what she'd meant, and wanted to ask. . . .
Kitsune let the thought trail off, and stared out
across Hinata, wondering if what she'd just realized
could really be true or if it was just the alcohol.
But could it be? Could it be that Motoko was avoiding
Kitsune, and not talking to her, and . . . and
blushing all the time, because she wasn't sure
herself?
She started to giggle madly. Could she have been
right all this time?
"Oh, wow," Kitsune said to herself, feeling her
cheeks starting to turn red. "I have to find out
about this."
She made her way down off of the roof - slowly, of
course - and stopped by her room for one more beer,
both for courage and just in case it really was the
alcohol that was making her think she might be right.
That, and she could always blame her actions on the
booze if things went badly.
Once she was sufficiently re-buzzed (and a good part
of the way towards plastered, though she'd deny it to
the end), she started stalking through the halls of
Hinata, searching out the dark-haired girl. "Hey,
Motoko! Where are you?" She hiccuped, then covered
her mouth and grinned. "I gotta ask you about deaths
. . . little ones. . . ."
Keitaro came around the corner, holding a small book
in front of himself and reading as he walked. He
stopped before he ran into Kitsune, which was
something of a surprise. She guessed she must be
moving slower after drinking so much.
"Oh! Hey, Kitsune." His face turned bright red, of
course. She realized that she still hadn't explained
why she'd kissed him three days ago. Not that it
mattered, she thought; it wasn't like he was going to
bring it up.
"Yeah, Keitaro," she said, "I got a little favor you
could do for me. . . ."
"Umm . . . are you sure? You seem kind of drunk."
He started to back away, and she let him. This
couldn't take long, she might lose her nerve, or
worse, her buzz.
"I'm sure," she said. She winked at him. "You seen
Motoko recently? Any idea where she is right now?"
Somehow, Keitaro managed to look even more surprised.
"I think I saw her out on the deck, practicing like
she always does after dinner," he said. "She should
still be there."
"Thanks," Kitsune said with what she knew was a big
stupid grin. "I owe ya." She dashed off, managing
not to stumble around a corner, and headed for the
next floor down, where she could get to the deck.
By the time she got there, she was starting to
breathe hard, and had to lean against the rail to keep
her balance. Her head was starting to spin, and she
held one hand to it. "Must remember," she said to
herself. "Running around like this . . . don't do
that again." She looked up the short flight of stairs
that led to the deck, and sighed. Motoko was there,
of course.
She watched the warrior woman as she went through her
katas, her sword flashing orange and red in the light
from the setting sun, every movement controlled and
precise. Kitsune could see the sweat on her forehead,
and the sunlight was almost enough to make her white
top just lit-up enough to see through. Almost,
Kitsune thought. She knew Motoko would be all wrapped
up under there, as usual, instead of letting herself.
. . .
"Dammit," Kitsune said quietly to herself, "just go
up there and do it."
She clomped up the steps, making no secret that she
was there. When she reached the deck, Motoko was
looking at her. She leaned up against the railing,
and tried really hard to look casual. She didn't
think it was working very well.
"Kitsune," Motoko said, polite but a little formal.
"Motoko," Kitsune said. She pushed off of the rail,
and slowly started to walk toward the other girl.
"Look . . . I gotta talk to you."
"Shouldn't this wait until you're more sober?" Motoko
asked, raising one eyebrow. She slid her sword back
into its sheath and set it aside.
Kitsune stopped for a moment, and just stared at
Motoko, standing there with the sun setting behind
her, all strong and controlled and sexy and. . . . "I
don't know how to say this, really," she began, then
swallowed hard. She paused. "Hey, you remember that
time, back at the beach café, when I was tugging on
your yukata and saying you were supposed to be naked
underneath it?"
"Of course I remember," Motoko said quickly.
"Yeah, you do," Kitsune said with a giggle. "You're
turning as red as your pants."
Motoko turned away from her. "Why are you bringing
that up?"
"Because the next thing you asked," Kitsune said,
slowly walking until she was only a few feet away from
Motoko, "was if I had . . . you know. . . ."
"Other-teamly tendencies," Motoko finished. Kitsune
thought she heard a little bit of a quiver in the
dark-haired girl's voice. She started to turn around.
"Right," Kitsune said, trying to keep the slur out of
her voice. She didn't want to mess this up, she
couldn't; she had to be careful or Motoko could end up
hating her. . . .
Kitsune took one more step, caught her toe on a
knothole in the boards, and fell forward into Motoko.
For a second, she thought she was going to pull a
Keitaro and plant her face right between the other
girl's breasts, but her knees hit first, and she ended
up clutching Motoko around her middle.
"You know," Kitsune said, looking up at Motoko and
winking, "you're pretty soft for a kendo girl." She
then slumped down and passed out.
When Kitsune woke up, she was staring at the stars,
and her head was pillowed on something soft yet firm.
Her head was also spinning, and she regretted having
that last beer before coming here, as well as the two
or three before it. She blinked a few times, then
realized there was an arm draped across her shoulders,
laying above her breasts. Following the arm up, she
saw that - thankfully - it was Motoko's. The kendo
girl was kneeling, with Kitsune's head resting on her
thighs. She was looking up at the stars as well, but
looked down at Kitsune as she stirred.
"Motoko. . . ." Kitsune mumbled. She put her own
hand over the dark-haired girl's, and frowned. "I'm
sorry. I screwed that up."
Motoko said nothing for a moment, then looked up at
the sky again. "No," she said quietly. "I think that
was the only way you could have done it."
Kitsune couldn't help giggling. "Look," she said,
figuring there wasn't a better time to be out with it,
"I don't know what's going on with me. But I know
I've been looking at you" - she squeezed the other
girl's hand - "for a long time."
"I know," Motoko said with a nod, and looked down at
Kitsune again. "I'm sorry, but that's why I've been
avoiding you for the past few days."
"That's kinda what I thought." Kitsune looked away,
then turned her head the other way after realizing
she'd nearly put her face into Motoko's crotch. "I'm
sorry about that. I was just thinking about you,
y'know? It was making me feel all squishy inside.
But if that's not okay with you, then. . . ."
Motoko didn't say anything for a long moment, but
when she sighed, Kitsune couldn't help looking back up
at her. She was surprised to see the look on the
girl's face . . . there was confusion there, but also
something she hadn't expected but had come to truly
like about Motoko: determination.
"I, also, don't know what's going on with me," Motoko
began. "I'm not sure how I feel. It's not something
I've given a lot of thought to; my training has always
been most important to me."
"I know," Kitsune said. "I really like that. It's
just . . . you, I guess."
"It is," Motoko said with a small smile. "But in
this . . . I don't know myself. But I want to know.
And you make me think that . . . perhaps, you may be
right."
Kitsune blinked. "What?"
"Why do you think," Motoko said quietly, her cheeks
turning red, "I started to blush, back then at the
festival? I'm not used to anyone's affections, but
you . . . bring it out of me, I suppose."
"Awww. . . ." Kitsune raised her free hand, and
cupped the side of Motoko's face, feeling the heat of
her blush. "Maybe," she said, slowly starting to sit
up, but not letting go of Motoko's face or hand, "if
we both don't know, we should find out, y'know?"
"Maybe," Motoko said. She took a deep breath. "I
should know myself." She paused, then, to Kitsune's
surprise, she started to laugh quietly. "That sounds
so silly to me, with all of this." She hadn't moved
away from Kitsune's touch.
"Then maybe," Kitsune said, emphasizing the last word
with a slow wink, "you should just shut up and kiss
me?"
She slowly brought Motoko's face closer to her own.
Somewhere along the way, Motoko freed her other hand,
and started to wrap it around Kitsune's shoulders.
She wasn't sure who pulled who to whom, but when she
felt Motoko's soft lips on her own, she stopped
caring. A warm rush swept through her entire body,
and she let her hand trace across Motoko's face to
slide into her hair, then pressed herself against the
other girl.
It wasn't like anyone else she'd kissed, any boy
she'd liked and had tried to chase. There was
something soft and comforting about the kiss,
something oddly fulfilling and somehow . . . right.
She wasn't sure how long they held it, but when they
did pull away, it was done slowly and with a small
sense of regret.
They sat under the stars and looked at each other,
neither saying a word, both blushing. After a long
moment of silence, Kitsune started to grin again, not
caring how dopey it looked.
"Well?" she asked, winking again.
Motoko swallowed hard. "I'm not sure," she said,
then gave a small smile as Kitsune's eyes opened wide.
"We'd better try again. To be sure."
It was a while before they left the deck that night.
*
Kitsune woke up with the sun in her eyes, and started
to mutter. How had she forgotten to close that shade?
She started to roll over, then felt something warm
and soft next to her, something firm yet yielding.
Oh, she thought, feeling her face grow warm. That was
how.
It had been difficult to leave the deck, but once
they had managed that, what came next had felt natural
for them both. Spending the night together, Motoko
had said, would help them to know for sure. Kitsune
wouldn't have argued no matter what the reasoning, but
she'd agreed - a little reluctantly, she had to admit
- when Motoko had made it clear that for now, she
wanted to do nothing more than share a futon. She had
showed up at Kitsune's door, looking slightly sad, but
explained that as feeling awkward at having to tell Su
that she needed to find another place to sleep. They
both had felt a little nervous as they lay down, but
it hadn't lasted long.
Her face warm with memories of last night, Kitsune
looked over at the other girl. Motoko looked so
incredibly angelic as she slept. It wasn't as though
she no longer looked like the warrior she tried to be
- Kitsune didn't think anything could change that
about her. But she seemed at peace now, like nothing
could bother her and everything she'd been questioning
didn't matter. Kitsune gently brushed a few strands
of black hair away from her face. Everything they'd
been questioning. . . .
There weren't any more questions in her own mind,
Kitsune knew. Spending the night with Motoko,
whispered talks and gentle kisses and light touches
and not-so-gentle kisses. . . . They hadn't done any
more than that, but somehow it had been more
fulfilling than anything else she'd done. There had
to be more eventually, she thought. She'd go nuts
otherwise. But for now, she was content.
She was also awake. As nice as watching Motoko sleep
was, it wasn't very exciting. After pondering various
ways of waking her up and thinking about how much she
would like them if they were used on her (a lot, she
knew, but her instincts told her to move more slowly
on this one), she decided to stick with the classics.
Kitsune scooted a little closer to Motoko, and leaned
in close to the sleeping girl's face. She took a deep
breath, stifled a giggle, and pressed their lips
together in a kiss.
It was a moment before Motoko reacted, and Kitsune
was about to start using her tongue, but she felt the
other girl stir, and a stifled moan came from Motoko's
throat. Motoko pulled away for just a moment, and
gave Kitsune a surprised look as she caught her
breath.
"Morning," Kitsune said, quietly but cheerfully.
"Good morning," Motoko whispered, a dreamy look in
her eyes. She blinked once, then reached for the back
of Kitsune's neck, and pulled her in for another kiss.
By the time Motoko's leg was draped over her own,
Kitsune had to admit that she was surprised. She
hadn't figured on Motoko being this passionate; she
had always seemed so reserved. It's always the quiet
ones, she thought. When they finally ended the kiss
and separated - only a little - Kitsune grinned
widely.
"So," she asked, "are you sure?"
Motoko blinked slowly, and didn't say anything, but
pulled Kitsune close, holding her head to her chest.
Kitsune sighed happily and threw one arm over Motoko,
guessing that was enough of an answer for now. She
also guessed that Motoko didn't sleep bound up, and
wondered how long it'd take to talk her into making a
habit of going around like that all the time.
"I am sure," Motoko said, stroking her hand over
Kitsune's light brown hair. "I think . . . I've
wanted to wake up like this for a long time. It feels
like I should have started this years ago."
With a little regret, Kitsune scooted up until her
head was on the pillow again, so she could see
Motoko's face. "It does feel good, doesn't it?" she
asked. "It feels . . . right, I guess. I don't know.
You're supposed to be the eloquent one."
"Perhaps," Motoko said with a smile. She sighed.
"What should we tell the others? Su already looked
upset when I told her she couldn't share my bedroom
last night."
Kitsune shrugged. "She'll be okay, she'll find
someone else to latch onto for nights. As for
everyone else. . . ." She rolled onto her back,
stretching a bit. "Eh, screw 'em. I'm not hiding
this."
"I thought as much." Motoko sat up a little, then
looked down at Kitsune. Her face was starting to turn
red.
"Motoko. . . ." Kitsune winked at her. "You're cute
when you're blushing."
Motoko turned away for a moment. Then, before
Kitsune knew what was happening, she threw the cover
off of the futon, twisted herself around, and flung
one leg over Kitsune, straddling her. She leaned down
over Kitsune, one hand on the pillow next to her head,
her black hair falling down around the two of them.
Kitsune's eyes widened. She had to admit, she almost
hadn't thought the kendo girl had it in her. But the
look in her eyes, the feelings there, and the feel of
their bodies against each other . . . she liked it. A
lot. She started to lift herself up, to run her hands
up Motoko's sides. . . .
"Hey, Kitsune, are you--"
The two of them looked over at the sound of Naru's
voice and the door sliding open. Her mouth was
likewise open, and she stood there, utterly stunned.
For a moment, none of them moved.
"Heyas, Naru! I can't find Motoko, you seen her?"
Su's head whipped around the corner of the door, and
she peered into the room. If she noticed the frozen
Naru, she didn't show it, but she definitely noticed
Kitsune and Motoko.
"Ooooooh. . . ." She grinned widely. "Kinky." Su
tugged on Naru's arm, managing to get her away from
the door. She kicked it closed as they walked away,
and the last thing the two women in the room heard was
"Hey, Naru, can I stay in your room tonight?"
"Well, that solves that problem," Kitsune said as
soon as they were gone. "Everyone will know now."
She looked up at Motoko again and grinned. "I don't
mind, do you?"
"No," Motoko said simply, "I don't."
Motoko leaned down for another kiss, surrounding
Kitsune in waves of black hair. Kitsune pulled her
close, making it a point not to let either of them
start to roll. If this was a dream, she really didn't
want to wake up.
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