Author's note: This story will contain spoilers for both Live Hina and Hajime no Ippo. All borrowed works copyrighted by their specific authors. Enjoy!

Hajime no Keitaro: Ronin's Road

It was a late summer afternoon like most others that year: the sun made it's descent over the crashing waves, lending the last of its warmth before the stiff, cool breeze of the Pacific washed over the temporary summer employees at the Hinata beach teahouse. Having just closed for business that day, the teahouse's proprietor, Keitaro Urashima, was busy, as was usual when operating a bustling business in a rickety old building, repairing some salt-water damaged floorboards in the kitchen.

He had discovered the damage by accident; he fell through the brittle wood while carrying a heaping bowl full of fish guts and other food scraps out to the trash bin. Naturally for him, the bowl overturned on top of him, leaving him standing waist deep in the floor, covered from head to toe in food waste.

Mishaps of that nature had seemingly increased to more than epic proportions over the past several weeks for the bad-luck-ridden Keitaro. He was sure it was being caused by the god-forsaken teahouse he was charged with running every summer to help support his real job: managing the all-female Hinata Dormitory, home to some of the most wicked, cruel, and most beautiful women he had ever met.

"Just three more days," Keitaro told himself for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Then he could get back to the normal amount of bad luck he experienced every day at Hinata Dorm. He reached for one final eight-inch nail from the box in the toolkit next to him, and proceeded to nail it into the floorboard to keep it in place. In such a rush to finally complete the job, Keitaro unconsciously hammered the nail before he moved his thumb out of the way.

Keitaro gasped, with fifty percent pain, fifty percent unbridled fury at his own stupidity. He held a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He had enough of being laughed at by the tenants of his dorm, who also doubled as employees at the teahouse. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing agony in his thumb, Keitaro quickly finished hammering in the final nail, threw the hammer in the toolbox unceremoniously, and slammed it closed.

Keitaro stood, stretching his back out languidly, allowing the blood to flow back into the muscles, a deep groan escaping his lips as he reached backwards as far as he could.

From the front of the teahouse, Keitaro overheard one of his tenants, Kitsune, call out from the front of the store, "Hey, guys, they are back again! Come look!" Keitaro heard the sounds of banging wood as chairs were thrown into the tables accompanied by heavy footsteps as the other girls rushed to gather around Kitsune.

Keitaro tried his best to ignore them. They had been doing this very thing on and off for several days now, spying on some people at the beach. But this time it was different. He overheard them, on accident of course, talking about them. In particular, he heard his crush, Narusegawa Naru, say, "He has an amazing body!"

That caught Keitaro's attention. "They are looking at other guys on the beach!" he exclaimed to himself as softly as possible, trying to stem the tide of his frustration. He debated fleeing the scene of the crime or seeing exactly what his competition was. His ears made the decision for him.

"That big guy is obviously the best looking one," Kitsune concluded.

"I don't know, the small guy is pretty good too," Naru noted.

"That guy with the afro looks pretty cheeky," Motoko said.

"I think they are all too muscular," Shinobu said.

"Aww, I wanna play with them too!" Su exclaimed.

"Geez, they are all getting in on the act! Even Motoko and Shinobu!" Keitaro whispered. Before he realized what he was doing, Keitaro poked his head out of the side door of the teahouse, squinting in the direction of the setting sun, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at.

After a few seconds they came running into his view on the sand. There were four of them: One of them was much larger than the others; two were about the same size, but still much smaller than the large one, and one small fry brought up the rear. All of them were wearing nothing but bathing suits, and were sprinting across the sand. Before Keitaro could get a better look at them, they vanished from sight, leaving a large cloud of sand in their wake.

"And there they go again," Kitsune said. "I swear I recognize that big guy from somewhere."

"You say that every time, Kitsune," Naru said, nudging her friend with her elbow.

"Because it's true!" Kitsune cried out, defending her position.

"At any rate, we should return to our duties," Motoko calmly stated.

"Yeah, yeah," Kitsune sighed, hopping off of the railing she was sitting on.

Keitaro quickly moved back into the kitchen, cleaning dishes as if he heard nothing. Not a moment later, Naru threw open the swinging door from the customer floor to the kitchen.

"Hey, Naru, be careful there, the floor is still wet," Keitaro warned in haste.

Naru, only half-listening to Keitaro's warning, proceeded into the freshly mopped kitchen. "Say whaaaaaaaaaaah!" Mid question, she slipped backwards, ending up head over heels on the kitchen floor, nursing a sore tailbone.

Keitaro dropped the pan he was rinsing off and rushed over to help Naru to her feet. As was wont for him to do, Keitaro stepped into the very same spot he warned Naru against, falling forward and landing directly on top of her!

"Sorry," Keitaro chirped, leaping back to his feet as quickly as possible and bowing in front of Naru. He did not hear a response from her for several moments, so he poked an eye open, only to see a vicious right cross zooming straight for his head! He instinctively clenched his teeth and braced for the impact, which slammed against his cheek and sent him flying out of the back door of the restaurant and somewhere into the evening sky.

The next day was Sunday, which meant the teahouse was closed for business. And that meant it was a free day for Keitaro and company. Today was the long-awaited free day at the beach! At least, it was a free day for the girls. Keitaro was left carrying three coolers chock-full of ice and beverages, looking rather lame as he strained the last several meters to an open spot on the sand.

Finally reaching his destination, Keitaro tossed the coolers off of his shoulders, not caring that they fell rather precariously, nearly letting out their contents. He put his hands on his thighs, panting through his open mouth.

"Such a weakling," came the pitiful comment from Motoko, who was clad in a conservative blue one-piece swimsuit.

Keitaro glared in her direction. "I'd like to see you carry all of those," he thought to himself.

Motoko whirled around, looking Keitaro in the eye. "Did you say something?" she asked accusingly.

"N-no, I didn't say anything," Keitaro responded defensively. After Motoko turned back around, Keitaro let out a small sigh of relief. It would not surprise Keitaro in the least if she were able to hear his own thoughts. She seemed to hear everything else.

"Hey, Keitaro, hand me a beer, would ya?" Kitsune requested nonchalantly, as if it were expected.

"Sure," Keitaro responded unconsciously. He sifted through one of the coolers and pulled a can of beer from near the bottom. He handed it over to Kitsune, who did nothing but take it out of his hand. Not even a grunt of a thank-you. She just cracked it open and took a hefty swig from the can.

Keitaro figured he would take this opportunity to escape into the water before he was asked to do anything else. He took no more than two steps when…"Where do you think you are going?" he heard Naru ask from behind him. Keitaro turned around and started to explain, but Naru cut him off. "Set this umbrella up for us."

Keitaro's shoulders slumped. "Fine." While Keitaro was in the middle of getting the umbrella buried firmly enough into the sand so it would stand upright, all the girls decided to run off into the ocean, leaving Keitaro behind. He tossed the idea around in his mind to just leave the umbrella how it was and take off to do his own thing, but thought better of it. The consequences of such a thing were disastrous.

After another 10 minutes of grueling work, a sweat-drenched Keitaro finally finished planting the umbrella and sat under it for a few moments to cool off. He cracked open a bottle of cola and pulled a large swig from it, sighing heavily as he swallowed. He watched the girls playing some volleyball in the water and smiled inwardly. As much as he hated the verbal and physical abuse they meted out, he saw something in the tenants that made it impossible for him to hate them. He also acknowledged that his virtually infinitesimal self-worth surely was not helping matters much.

What makes me stay? Keitaro asked himself this question a million times in any given day. Of course, this question was purely rhetorical, as he honestly had no other choice. He could not live with his parents again, nor could he afford his own place. More to the point, he asked himself why he dealt with the daily punishment from some of the women simply for being alive. But every time he was convinced that he could stand no more, he would somehow run into Naru, and the thought perished where it stood. He was mad about her. But once again, his non-existent self-esteem stood in the way of reaching for her and revealing his affections.

"If only I had some confidence," Keitaro mumbled aloud, "maybe I could turn this hell into paradise." Keitaro polished off the remainder of his beverage and tossed the empty glass container back into the ice chest. He laughed inwardly at the thought of actually standing up to his oppressors, or acting cool and confident around Naru, thinking how out of character it would be. Keitaro stood up and stretched, putting the thought out of his mind.

Keitaro heard some commotion coming from the direction where the girls were and Keitaro looked up to see them all waving in his direction and hooting and hollering. Keitaro raised his arms and started to wave back when he noticed a group running across the sand. He squinted, trying to focus on them, and he quickly realized it was the group of men he saw from the teahouse before. His heart sank as he surmised they were not waving at him, but at them.

Keitaro stared at the group of men dashing across the sand, his initial embarrassment turning to annoyance, then to anger, and blossoming into rage. Without warning, his lower body took over the rest of his body, and he ran away from the umbrella, chasing after the group. Half of his brain just wanted him to get away from that embarrassing situation, and the other half wanted to find out just who the hell they thought they were.

After about ten minutes of running at nearly full speed, Keitaro's adrenaline level started to level off, and a jolt of pain shot through his legs and chest. He collapsed to his knees, panting and wheezing mightily. He saw that he not only was no closer to catching the group running ahead of him, but they were now completely out of his sight. Only a trail of footsteps in the sand left any indication that they were even there.

Taking a few minutes to catch his breath, Keitaro stood and walked in the direction the footsteps lead. He still wanted to see who those guys were and why they were running on the beach every day. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, the footsteps at last lead away from the beach and towards an old but well-maintained building just off of the sand.

Stepping through the sand towards the building, dull thumping sounds coming from the structure reached Keitaro's ears. Although the sounds made him more than just a little nervous, Keitaro's curiosity outweighed any fear he may have had. He peeked through one of the two filthy windows on the side of the building.

Keitaro gasped audibly at the sight, and he ducked instinctively at the sound of his own voice. He waited a few moments, half-expecting someone to come out and chase him back to where he came from. However, the commotion from the building did not change, and Keitaro slowly raised himself so he was looking in again. The first thing he noticed was a rather large man wearing black sweats wearing thick red boxing gloves pounding on a punching bag. With each blow the bag flew backward noticeably, and the man's fists were merely a blur to Keitaro's eyes. Further into the gym he noticed two men, smaller than the first, jumping rope at a breakneck speed. To Keitaro's surprise, they did not appear to be laboring at all. In the boxing ring on the far side, Keitaro saw another man with gloves on, this one even smaller than the other two, as well as an old man holding boxing mitts. The old man was barking orders at the younger man, who responded with lightning fast blows at the old man's hands.

Keitaro was awestruck by the man in the ring. He appeared to be strong, agile, and confident. He was wearing a sweatshirt that Keitaro squinted to read. Finally, he saw that it said, "KAMOGAWA BOXING GYM". "So, they really are boxers," Keitaro whispered to himself. He continued to watch the man in the ring bounce around the old man and deliver sharp punches to the old man's mitts. "I bet he's never had to deal with any abuse from anyone," Keitaro pondered.

"Hey," a deep voice boomed from right behind Keitaro, whose eyes widened with shock and legs trembled in fear of certain death for eavesdropping. "What are you doing there?" the voice asked. Keitaro turned slowly until his eyes met the largest of the men that was pounding the daylights out of what was left of the punching bag inside the building. Keitaro suddenly realized he was so mesmerized by the one in the ring that the other man now standing in front of him must have noticed him. The man loomed over Keitaro, standing a full head over him.

Keitaro smiled weakly, then bolted back towards the beach as if he were shot out of a cannon. The man watched in amusement as Keitaro kicked up a thick cloud of sand in his wake as he ran for dear life. Within a matter of seconds, Keitaro was completely out of the man's sight. "He's pretty fast," he noted aloud.

Keitaro continued to run as fast as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his leg muscles. He was certain that that imposing figure was right behind him, giving chase. He finally stopped when he reached the umbrella he'd set up before. In fact, he had collapsed in front of it.

"Ah, there you are, Keitaro," Kitsune said rather nonchalantly after seeing her landlord collapse in front of her. She was sitting under the umbrella applying some sun block to her arms. "Hit on some girls with boyfriends again?" she asked flippantly.

"I wish it were that," Keitaro muttered. One thing was for certain. If he ever ran into that big guy again, it would be too soon.

NEXT TIME, ON HAJIME NO KEITARO: Keitaro's luck only continues to worsen after the group of boxers come into the teashop for some drinks! However, this may also be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him to gain the confidence he longs after. Could a brutal workout regimen be just what he needs? And what will the Hinata Sou tenants think? Find out next time on: Hajime no Keitaro!!!

Author's note: Man, it's been far too long since I've written anything that could be considered postable. It's good to be back. Anyway, after all the stories written about LH on this site, I wanted to try something that might be a little more...unique. I think this will accomplish that nicely.