Totally Random Love Hina Skits Again!
By Andrew Joshua Talon
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Love Hina, and I am not writing this for profit. Please do not sure.
Author's Note: In response to the questions about the various time loop fics, here's the answer:
Once upon a time on The Fanfiction Forum, a brilliant, perverted author by the name of Innortal started up a thread entitled "New Intros" in the Naruto section. This thread had, as it's main plot, Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, and Sasuke Uchiha timelooping back to their first day as a team and introducing themselves in different ways.
However, this single seemingly innocent timeloop spread between universes. The Ranma, Evangelion, Bleach, Love Hina, Negima, Star Wars, Dragonball, Harry Potter and many other universes went into timeloops as well and even began crossing over with eachother. The goddesses of the Ah! My Goddess! Universe, responsible for monitoring the whole of Creation, tried to figure out what was going on. In the meantime, they made it so none of the Loopers could reproduce so that they wouldn't have to see their children be born, live, and die over and over again.
Keitaro's own looping experience has been… Problematic at best, as you'll see in future chapters. Right now though, just enjoy some randomness co-written with Chris Oddland and David Alan Abramcyzk,, involving Keitaro and a piece of technology Assassin's Creed fans will recognize…
Guinea pigging for Suu was something that had almost no rewards, usually. Just horrible agony, destruction, and a large number of crying, angry women after me.
Most of her experiments I became party to regardless of my feelings on the matter. Every time I ended up trashed, ruined, humiliated, with Motoko or Naru or Kitsune or even Shinobu all angry with me.
This experiment though... This one was a little different. A little better. A little more... Helpful.
"Okay Keitaro, Su is ready now!"
I nodded as I laid down on the bed, letting out a held breath in a small sigh. The advanced technology of the device hummed beneath and around me, various sensors rising up in the shape of rings. I was entirely familiar with it, every piece of the magnificent machine.
Su sat nearby at her central computer, eagerly typing on the control panels as holographic screens showed every reading and vital sign of her subject.
"Just relax, Su find the right memory, right genes-"
"Su," I said firmly, "I know the drill." I looked directly at her. "Just start it up."
Su blinked, then nodded. "All right, Keitaro..." Her fingers typing sounded like a miniature stampede, clicking and clacking almost into a buzz. If she was disturbed by my change in tone, she made no sign of it.
The air in front of my eyes began to glow, and a visor descended. I took a deep breath, just before the plunge. Strange energies seemed to flow and shoot around me, forming into structures at once alien and totally familiar.
I closed my eyes as Urashima Keitaro: Second year ronin, washout, loser.
I reopened them to a moonless night, Hinata's town no longer formed by modern buildings but dominated by old style architecture. Merchants, peasants, civilians and policemen walked the streets, performers and vendors called out, offering their wares as the lights of hundreds of lanterns shown down upon the dirt roads.
In the darkness above, I smiled, my dark clothing and mask concealing me in the night's embrace. My hand rested upon my ninjato, ready to be used. I looked up from my hood into the stars dotting the sky by the thousands, knowing exactly who I was, and what I was doing.
Urashima Ken. Heir to the Urashima Ninja Clan, in the fading years of the Edo Period.
The darkness was no longer threatening, the worries of the future did not weigh upon me.
I was free. I took to the night over the rooftops.
There was work to be done.
The 16th Century…
What history books on Molmol never tell was that once in the 16th century a strange man drifted ashore from the remains of a sunken ship while dragging chests tied to pieces of flotsam.
The stranger was swiftly bound and brought before the rulers due to his strange looks and clothes. But not before he had slain at least three of the many soldiers that came to apprehend him with a sickle attached to a chain.
While the king on a cautious whim wanted to slay the dangerous stranger, one of his queens took a fancy to this prisoner and took him for herself, spiriting him away to her secluded quarters.
There she made him her most valued and cherished lover, discovering to her surprise that her prisoner was not a stranger to people with her intimate and passionate temper.
Heartbroken she became when her lover managed to escape his well-guarded chambers and eluding her best hunters with skill, managing even to incapacitate one of them and stealing his clothes and weapons.
As she herself led the hunting party they cornered him at a cliff facing the sea. While he said aloud in their language that he had come to love her, he would rather die than be bound and caged again. And despite her desperate pleas he flung himself down into the sea.
The queen had despaired for days over his apparent death, but a seer had comforted her that he was still alive. Nine months later she gave birth a to a son that had the same eyes and face as his father. The king while filled with wrathful jealousy could not bring himself to inflict harm on the child and remained silent.
In the future mother and son would put the books the stranger had left behind to good use, changing Molmol in many ways.
"That's the last time I go shopping for western books on medicine, science and philosophy."" Hideki of the Urashima family grumbled to himself as he stared at the sea from the Dutch ship that had rescued him. The Chunin wondered how he could explain to his superiors how he lost all that useful stuff to those strange islanders and where he'd been all those years.
He would miss his beloved queen. During his captivity he had many a chance to end her life, but chose not to after she had earned a place in his heart. He would always remember her gentle breath as she lay sleeping next to him, a content, happy smile on her face…
The 19th century…
In all honesty, this was the first time in the Animus device where Keitaro was seeing things as a woman, and he was utterly amazed. Her name was Yume Urashima, and had lived in the early 1820's by the Western calendar. She had a quiet dignity about her, a heart shaped face framed by her shoulder-length brown hair, and a slim, athletic body giving her an appearance, while not as drop-dead gorgeous or out-and-out sexy as that of her fellow Urashima, nevertheless could only be described as beautiful.
As Keitaro got his bearings and immersed himself in the genetic memory, he found Yume was standing on a road through a mountain pass, staring down a short haired man wearing the traditional attire of the Aoyama. A name rose up to put to the man; Denjiro Aoyama, one of the Shinmei-ryu's wandering Sword Masters, who served them by searching for new talent. Yume and he had crossed paths several times these last few months, but here, on this warm Spring night, as the cherry blossoms were falling, Yume somehow knew that this would be their final meeting, one way, or another.
"Denjiro," Yume said, breaking the silence with a smile designed to infuriate the samurai. "I see you've recovered nicely from our last meeting. I am glad. I did not want to hurt you... Too badly." The proud Aoyama samurai was audibly grinding his teeth. How dare that, that, that glorified courtesan condescend to him like that! Him, the rising star of the Aoyama Clan!
Seeing his expression, Yume smiled. "Oh come now, Den-chan, don't tell me you didn't enjoy our last meeting; I certainly did. You made so many cute little sounds when we were in that inn..." she said, twisting the knife in ever so slightly. All the time, she had that infuriating smile on her lips as she stood there, her pose deliberately designed to entice and befuddle the mind and arouse the primal urges. Denjiro steeled his nerves. He would be strong as the steel of his blade, as resolute in his task as a mountain standing against the winds; he would not fall to the lecherous Urashima's vile and perverted ways!
Yume then grinned. "I nearly forgot, Yuriko wanted me to say hello."
That did it. The mention of Denjiro's sister and fellow Master of the Shinmei-ryu sent the samurai over the edge; with a deep-voiced cry of "SILENCE, WRETCHED HARLOT!", Denjiro drew his blade, and charged, intent on ending the life of the woman who held his kin in such unnatural bonds.
Yume's smile widened, as she drew a pair of kunai from her sash and seemed to explode into motion. As they rapidly closed the distance, and Denjiro swung his blade, Yume dropped down and slid between his legs, using her kunai to slash through his obi and the seams in his hakama. The upshot of this was that when he spun around to face her, his pants fell to pieces leaving him clad only in his kendogi and a rather inadequate fundoshi to protect his modesty.
This did not impress the Aoyama man. Denjiro had passed anger, flown beyond rage, and was now in a strange state of tranquil fury, as he adopted the preparation stance for one of the Shinmeiryuu's legendary ki strikes. The energy began to flow into his blade, which started to glow amidst the falling cherry blossom petals. "Boulder.... cutting.... STRIKE!" he shouted, sending a wave of energy cascading towards Yume.
To the shock of both Denjiro and Keitaro, Yume extended her hand, and the energy from the attack spiralled into it, like water draining through the plughole in a sink. Denjiro nearly dropped his blade, and stared as he sank to his knees. "I-Impossible.... H-how?" he gasped out, as Yume slowly walked over with that same smile on her lips, and stood over him.
"Now that...." she leaned down and whispered in his ear. "... Is a secret." she pressed her hand to his chest, and released the energy. A brilliant flash lit the mountain pass, scattering the cherry blossoms everywhere. She examined what she had done, then made a face as she made the hand signs for one of the clan's healing jutsu. "Might have overdone it just a little..." she said, as she began to heal the battered and more than slightly singed samurai. The remainder of his clothes were cinders now, so she had an uninterrupted view of Denjiro. He gasped weakly as she finished using her jutsu. He glowered balefully at her through pain dulled eyes, before they widened as she fumbled with her sash. "I'm not done yet, Den-chan...." she said, with a predatory grin...
Two hours of sex later, Yume got up, got dressed, and smiled at the dazed Denjiro, who was caught between horror, lust, anger and a strange bit of affection for this crazy woman. He then whimpered as she tied him up with ninja wire, slung him over her back, and carried him off, whistling a happy tune as she went to bring her man home of the Clan Compound and Yuriko...
White Lines dance across the sky, all fades to nothingness.
Keitaro was shaking like a leaf when he got out of the Animus, and had had to rub his face to get his bearings again. "Are all my ancestors like this?" He asked out loud, not wanting to believe that Motoko might have been right in her accusations. He gave the machine a dark look, somehow knowing that it was a question he would soon get an answer to.
The 17th century...
So he was still a genin, but then again he didn't care much since he was unambitious when it came to prestige and rank. It was just simple work and he treated it like that, if assassination and spying could be regarded as honest work.
Unlike the rest of his kinsmen Daisuke, of the clandestine family of Urashima comprising of Shinobi, had never really gotten into seduction stuff his relatives seemed to love. He felt more at ease when it came to slitting a samurai's throat here and there or repeatedly knifing enemy officials in the back in the back with kunai laced with poison. Disguising himself as a cook or kitchen hand and serve large bands of enemies poisoned sake and food he could manage with battering an eye or shedding any tear. Sneaking into a damiyo's residence disguised as a shinto priest and stealing or copying documents that would help allies in forgery was easy, as was sneaking into a temple of warrior monks disguised as a dirty beggar for intelligence gathering.
That changed when he arrived at a certain ryokan while travelling the highways, keeping a low profile after murdering the Noriyasu heir in his sleep. The young daughter of the husband and wife owning this inn had for some reason taken a liking to him after he tried to cheer her up while she despaired over one of the quarrels of her parents. Somehow she had managed to have him somehow stay at the ryokan for days, enjoying her company until the fateful night she snuck into his room and declared that she had fallen for him.
And naturally one thing lead to another, despite Daisuke's fervent protests about her being to young for him and that she had to wait until a kind-hearted honest man would come and ask for her hand. The girl silenced him with a kiss and he gave into her passion. When the sun rose two lovers lay in the futon, both blushing furiously over what they had done when they woke up.
Naturally Daisuke following his personal code of honour took responsibility and asked the girl's parents for her hand in marriage. It took a while before both parents relented to this. It even took some time before his superiors let him have his will for a change, realizing it wasn't much of a loss since there were more talented men and women in the family.
After the marriage the ryokan was inherited by Daisuke and his pregnant wife. The girl's parents helped them maintain and work at this inn. It took time, but Daisuke became quite skilled at this. His wife, their many children and even his parent-in-laws had become quite dear to him and he would certianly butcher anyone who harmed them without remorse.
His family never got used to the fact that ryokan now also served as an outpost and safehouse for the Urashima shinobi, but he always covered his tracks well. So did his children after he tutored them in the art of murder.
As Keitaro left the the Animus, he was blushing so much that his face looked like that of a tomato. Daisuke's memories of letting go of his restraints and submitting to his animalistic desires were pretty intense, considering the emotions flaring up in his ancestor. And that he fathered up to at least eleven children.
The next day as everyone was eating breakfast, Keitaro was fervently looking away from the petite chef of the Hinata-sou. For some creepy reason he could see the resemblance between Shinobu-chan and the inn-keeper's daughter who became Daisuke's wife.
A creeping suspicion arose inside of him; didn't Shinobu-chan try out the Animus before him yesterday?
As his brown eyes met the cornflower blue eyes of Shinobu, both of them began blushing like there was no tomorow. Fumbling wildly he excused himself and ran outside.
Maybe I'll try what my ancestor did when everyone's asleep. I don't think Sempai can resist me this time. Shinobu thought. Mental note: Give Naru-sempai tea with sleeping pills in them...
Osaka in the 19th century
On the outskirts of this trading port where ships carrying all kinds of goods anchored, a battle took place. Actually it was a failed ambush, but the ninja assigned for this cutthroat business didn't mind.
The samurai charged at him with a battojutsu strike meant to swiftly cut his adversary down.
Junpei smiled as he stood his ground and thrusted with all his strength and buried his yari into the chest of the samurai. With a dying wail the swordsman fell on his back with the spearhead and upper shaft driven through him. But even if death his victim still gripped his blade.
"Sure I ain't got no fancy sword forged by some wise and ancient swordsmith living secluded in a cave, but I got a nice, long spear with a sharp, sharp point." Junpei remarked with a shrug of contempt.
Junpei of the shadowy family Urashima that had spawned many lethal shinobi was regarded by many of his fellow ninja as quite a heretic. Instead of doing things the professional way, like a swift death from the shadows Junpei was more of a brawler who fought man to man, face to face. Sure he might respect tradition a bit by doing his grisly duty like most Urashima ninja did on a few occasion when it was advisable, but he did things like a common fighting man for his own sake.
Osaka was his hunting ground along with a handful of other family members who also took a liking to this place. He'd even lived here so long that he began speaking in the Kansai dialect, even though he somtimes made a few relapses to his old way of speaking.
Without any pangs of conscience what he had done Junpei planted his foot on the chest of the cooling corpse and pulled out his weapon of choice who he affectionately named Yari-san. Yari-san was then quickly wiped clean of blood and guts with the dead man's kimono before Junpei withdrew to avoid being discovered at the scene of the crime.
"So, Junpei, who did you kill this time?" the courtesan asked her lover as they lay naked on the futon, enjoying the afterglow of their passionate lovemaking.
"Just some guy who managed to anger an official, who hired the services of people like me who get their hands dirty for them" Junpei said sleepily.
A firm hand shook him awake as he almost began to sleep. "Don't tell me that's all for tonight?" she scolded him with a cute pout.
"You're insatiable!!" Junpei complained.
"Maybe you need some more warming up?" The courtesan gave him a vixen-like smile that made his heart skip a bit faster as she picked up a small bottle of sake. She took a small sip before handing the bottle to him.
Sighing Junpei gulped down a lot of what was left. "Satisfied?" he gave her a crossed look.
"Maybe," she smiled, "Now where were we? Oh, yes, we were to continue our last time together."
"I'll miss you, lover," Junpei stated simply as he laid a hand on her chest.
"I knew you would," she sighed and kissed him.
He had been with many women in his life, and she had been with many men in her life, but for some reason they grew fond of each other and had spent many passionate nights together. Soon she would leave Osaka forever to become the mistress of some wealthy damiyo far away, but at least he would hold her in his arms for a while longer.
He and his beloved vixen courtesan would never see each other again, but they would never forget what they had shared together. And they would try to find comfort in other people's arms to make the pain of parting go away.
Keitaro exited the Animus.
His ancestor Junpei Urashima had been quite interesting, seeing how he used a spear to kill most of his targets. Maybe he could buy a spear to fend off Motoko. But he had to blunten the edges first so that he didn't impale her if they ever fought with spear and sword.
He walked out of the Hinata-sou and sat down on the the top step of the stone stairs leading down. The stars were shining brightly in the night sky.
He then saw Mitsune "Kitsune" Konno stagger clumsily up the stairs after one of her usual drinking binges she had when going out to town.
"Y'know, vixen, you should lay off the drinking. It isn't good for you?" Keitaro looked surprised as the words left his mouth. He realized that he had spoken in the same dialect as Mitsune. Hopefully Junpei would get out of his head soon.
"D-Did you say somethin'?" the woman calling herself Kitsune managed to slur.
"Not really." Keitaro shrugged and re-adjusted his glasses. And held out his hand for her to hold on to. "I'll help you get to bed."
Kitsune was out like a light when he tucked her in for the night. Looking at her sleeping face and watching her chest heave with every breath and taking in the smell of alcohol from her Keitaro almost leaned down to kiss her on the lips, but stopped himself from doing so and left closing the door behind him.
As he headed for his room, he considered everything that had happened over the past few weeks, ever since he started using the Animus.
On one hand, learning that he came from a long line of kickass ninja and having their memories (including muscle) downloaded into his brain had, in turn, made him pretty damn kickass. His ancestors had employed a discipline of movement not that dissimilar to the French parkour or the Chinese Qing Gong to get around, which, combined with ki boosts to speed, dexterity and agility made him feel like a superhero as he vaulted, flipped and ran over rooftops with ease.
The hand-to-hand combat skills of his ancestors were also very nice. He'd begun sparring with Motoko to learn from her and provide her with a partner for training, and with her tutelage and the effect of the Animus, he was swiftly becoming quite good. Indeed, Motoko had initially scoffed at his request for training, but after proving himself, she had begun to show him more respect and blast him out of the Hinata Sou far less.
There was, of course, one downside-His ancestors were all, with only a very few exceptions, incredibly perverted. Hell, they'd even had a ninja art gained from a grateful kitsune that let them change genders at will! An Urashima Naruto had first utilized the technique in the 14th century. He'd used it successfully to annoy and defeat pretty much anyone who fought him, except for some stuck up lamer named Sasuke who had taken on that name from the more famous guy and had used some strange eye-based ki techniques to defeat his enemies.
Come to think of it... That all sounded very familiar...
There was another issue… He'd picked up an ability of his ancestors, something they'd dubbed, roughly translated, "Ero Vision".
Advantage: He could tell when someone was going to attack him based on changes in the appearance of their ki, and somehow see various secret items.
Disadvantage: He could tell whenever anyone in his vicinity, male or female, was aroused. He could also figure out what was arousing them.
Now, for women, this could be an advantage. For men, it was just disturbing... Doubly so when he learned a few of his ancestors had created gender-switching techniques. However, they were hard to do and required some consultation with a kitsune, and Keitaro wasn't sure he wanted to risk that.
Still, overall… It was a very, very awesome experience… But the more he used it, the more he didn't act like himself, and losing himself… Well…
Maybe I'll take a break from the Animus, Keitaro thought to himself.
Hope you enjoyed it. And now, enjoy an omake for the Mol Mol 16th Century "dive":
Keitaro emerged from the Animus, the memories of Urashima Hideki still fresh and clear within his mind. The lights in the room had turned red, and the ronin's thoughts were struggling to reconcile this place with where he'd been before.
"Hello Keitaro," said a sweet, female voice. Keitaro turned to look, and his eyes widened.
"Ah... Su?" She was in her red moon form-a grown woman, beautiful and athletic... And in extremely skimpy attire.
She smiled at him, seductive and mysterious, but Keitaro saw the knowing glint in her eyes.
"Ah... You saw that, huh?" He asked.
Su nodded. "Mmhmm..." She walked up to him, a sensual sway in her hips Hideki's memories forced him to connect to that MolMol Queen.
"There is a legend of a lost foreigner whom one of my ancestors fell in love with," Su said, lifting one long, perfectly formed leg up and over him. She straddled him, warm hands resting on his chest.
"Is there?" Keitaro asked, instincts pushing him to touch her back. Su purred.
"Yes... It is a tragic, beautiful story, that every girl in my country has heard. And we all wished for such a man, a great warrior, to be ours." She smiled and leaned down, face coming close to his.
"I had always hoped you would be that man for me," Su whispered. Keitaro tried to find an objection, he really did, but Hideki's memories were still fresh in his mind, and Su was... Well...
"What about the others?" He murmured, nose pressing against hers. Su laughed quietly.
"Oh, they will be fine... My presence here means the Hinata Sou is an embassy of my people... And our laws, including those pertaining to marriage, apply here. So Keitaro... Just relax."
She kissed him, and Keitaro, his worries addressed, could find no other objections as he kissed her back.