Love Hina's Pirates of the Hinata: The Curse of the Black Masks.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Love Hina. Although I know Love Hina only from the mangas, I am guessing that I do not own the TV series either. WARNING: there might be some OOCness due to the time the story takes place.

A/N: I apologize in advance if the storyline does not make sense. For one, the chance of another Revolutionary War is highly unlikely. My story is based on hypothetical thinking, meaning do not take my word literally. And if I happen to offend anyone of Japanese heritage, please forgive me. My knowledge of the past history of Japan only extends to what I have learned in Rurouni Kenshin and in Modern World History in freshman year so if I make some sort of mistake, please do not hesitate to berate me. I do enjoy some bashing. And please make sure to REVIEW and tell me what you think of my story so far. I would greatly appreciate your comments.


Naru Narusegawa closed her eyes as she heard the broadcast. Another wave of attacks, and so close to Hinata House . . . In truth, the Tokyo U student was not ready for the truth. For the past few months, tension perused through the countryside. It all started with the controversial issue of allowing the emperor to have control over military matters. The Shogun was furious and protested with the proposition and was therefore removed from power. Most of his followers had bowed to deaths embrace by committing seppuku. However, the Shoguns right hand man was never apprehended. Rumors said that he and some others sworn to avenge give rise to another revolution. And ever since then, high government officials had been brutally slaughtered. All because of that mercenary group . . .

Notes were sent to their targets, saying when they were going to strike. And not once had the assassins failed to delete their target. That, however, was an actual fact, not a rumor.

The emperor had still refused to release the Shogun. And as a last resort, the group had sent letters to every city they terrorized, liberating citizens and sending them to camps for protection. Those who refused to follow their demands were brutally slaughtered. It was as if there was a rip in time and had sent Japan back to the days of the Meiji Revolution . . .

Naru got up and paced around her room nervously. God, I hope my family is okay, she thought. Ever since this stupid dispute, me and Keitaro were forced by Grandma Hinata to stay at the Hinata House. "Gosh, why are all men such jackasses?" she asked, slamming her fist unknowingly right into the face of her husband as he walked into the room to ask what she would like for dinner.

"Oww . . . What'd I do??" asked the young archaeologist.

"Ohh, I'm so sorry. I was just thinking about the war, that's all . . ."

"Are you afraid? Don't be," he said, cutting Naru off as she opened her mouth to deny. "I'll be here for you to make sure nothing happens to you." He reached for his wife's hand and held her close. "I love you, always and forever. We'll get past this, and if it means having to stay here at Hinata House, then so be it."

Naru smiled. I was dumb to think that I would be alone in this. She looked at her husband lovingly. He sure has changed over the past few years. But how should I break the news that I'm . . . .

Haruka nearly broke down the door, she was running so fast. She barged in the two newlyweds as they were sharing a very passionate kiss. God, why cant they just quit? Damn, you would think they'd cut out all that frilly shit by now . . .

"You know," Seta whispered into Haruka's ear, "I would like it if we were like that sometimes . . ."

He immediately regretted saying that. Blushing, Haruka elbowed Seta hard in the guts and sent him into orbit.


Keitaro pulled back from his kiss and faced his aunt. "What was that? They've caught them?"

"Yeah," she responded, calming down a bit, forgetting about Seta. "Well, technically they haven't caught them yet. However, they do have Japan's strongest swordsman on call."

"Swordsman?" Motoko walked in, Kitsune to be close by.

"Yes, haven't you heard? The ones who're messin' things up use swords only," responded the new owner of Hina café. "Hey, wait! Where ya goin'?" Motoko Aoyama, successor of God's Cry School, left swiftly with her sword.

Chaos erupted in the city of Kanagawa. The frantic screams in the streets had long since turned mundane for the masked swordsman and his minions. Life had never been fair for the masked swordsman named "Leader," and although he himself had never killed anybody in his life, some say that the mask he wore bind him with an evil spirit. And it was because of this that Sagara Urashima gained his infamous reputation of killing. The once noble warrior would never resurface again if the mask stayed bound to his face. And knowing that there was no force strong enough to liberate him with the curse, Sagara had long since tried to put up an effort to resist the mask.

"Leader," whispered one of his minions, who was another warrior whose heart was warm before the curse was bestowed upon him. "It's not safe here . . . rumor has it that the legendary Battousai the Manslayer is nearby. We should detour around this wretched city and head straight toward Kyoto."

"No," he answered. "I've come to Kanagawa for a reason, Kurz. There's something that I have to do, something more important than retaking Japan. And I intend to follow my instincts. Now," he pointed his index finger at Hinata House, "It'll be easier if we each went our separate ways. Rendezvous at the hot spring inn in an hour, and don't cause any attention to yourself. It is vital that we all get there unnoticed."

"But what of the Manslayer, Kenshin Himura?"

"Leave Battousai for me. We have a very old . . . score to settle." The masked warrior nodded and disappeared into the shadows.

"You're the only one who can liberate me and my friends," he whispered as he turned to see his fellow companions disappear into the shadows. "Grandma Hinata, sensei . . ." The twenty-four year old took a step back and disappeared into the shadow, his voice echoing in the evening breeze.

"You're the only one . . ."