Love Hina Fan Fiction

After the Rain Has Fallen

By Kraven Ergeist

They didn't exactly make it out of the inn as per the plan. But they at least got Keitaro out of his room. And as little solace as their could be found for him or any of the others at the dinner table that night, Kitsune had provided her own: The trans-cultural phenomenon that was fermenting sugar into ethanol – better known as alcohol. The Germans had their beer. The Irish had their whisky. The Italians had their wine. The Russians had their vodka. And the Japanese had their sake.

Shinobu, Kaolla and Sarah felt kind of left out. It was a feeling that came slightly before the feeling of being completely overwhelmed by four drunken adults pointing out imaginary flaws (or values) in their counterparts and singing off-key to music that had been playing four tracks ago.

Mutsumi couldn't stop hiccupping. Motoko's kimono was growing looser by the minute. Sarah was sneaking most of the choice bits of food while everyone was distracted. Shinobu was in all but a state of panic as dish after dish hit the floor with a crash, and Kaolla had decided that now was an appropriate time to start swinging from the banister.

Keitaro had more or less passed out in Kitsune's lap, though few in the group were even aware of his presence anymore. The only person who was aware was the owner of that particular lap, though she hid her awareness of it with further laughter and pouring of more sake for herself and others.

She knew, just as the rest of them did, that this was merely a temporary reprieve. At best, Keitaro would return to his room by the end of this little event, barf his brains out, and feel even worse about his life in the morning when he realized that he hadn't been dreaming after all.

At worst…well, he could die of alcohol poisoning, and then they'd all feel even more horrible, her worst of all. It had been her idea after all. But she wouldn't think about that possibility. Right now, Keitaro was finally out of his room, and doing something other than sulking or pretending to sleep. Though as far as the latter was concerned, he had merely gone from pretending to sleep in his room to pretending to sleep at the table with the residents of the inn.

Or maybe he really was sleeping - one way to be sure.

"Keitaro?"

How her voice was able to reach him above the din of the room, she was not sure. Maybe it was because he was especially attuned to her voice. The more likely cause was the fact that her lips were practically pressed up against his ear. But who could say?

"Kitsune?" his voice was weak and shaky. She knew this wasn't his first time with alcohol, though perhaps this was his first time with such a quantity. "I don't…feel so good…"

Kitsune stared at the raucous she had created. At this point, it was more for the others' sakes than for his. The rest of the inn-mates (technically a misnomer, but she felt the term applied) were almost as depressed as he was, so this was a good reprieve for all of them. Though in terms of Keitaro's own personal health, she decided that this hadn't been her brightest idea of all time.

"Come on…" she slung his arm over her shoulder, stumbling to her feet. Shinobu was trying (and failing) to convince Motoko to stop swinging her shinai around, that Kaolla was not, in fact, a piñata, swinging from the hanging lights as she was. Mutsumi was giggling like an idiot at the antics at the table, still hiccupping uncontrollably (Kitsune briefly wondered at the young woman's respective experience with alcohol). Sarah had started digging greedily into the dessert platter that Shinobu had so carefully laid out for this purportedly momentous event that had by now devolved into something akin to a bar fight, though with its all-female cast, Kitsune wondered if "catfight" was the more appropriate term.

Not enough biting and scratching, she decided, and with everyone's attention conveniently diverted to Su taunting Motoko to try another swing in her inebriated state (a considerable danger to herself and others, as Shinobu pointed out), Kitsune whisked Keitaro away with surprising ease (he'd lost a lot of weight in those past months – had he been eating at all?) towards his room.

Though she had to make a quick pit stop to make first. It was time for Keitaro to dig up his old religious textbooks and get down on his knees to pay his respects to the porcelain gods.

"BRLAAAAUGH!"

Keitaro expelled the night's contents in a few quick heaves. Not surprising, considering how little he had eaten, he probably had more alcohol in his stomach than food.

"Feel any better?" Kitsune asked sympathetically. She and Naru had been in this situation many times before, sometimes from this angle, sometimes with their roles reversed. Kitsune fought back a sob as she realized how much Keitaro reminded her of Naru. The painful realization that their friendship would be forever weighted down by this constant reminder of a person who they loved and was no longer there…

No, she thought. She would fight it. She would overcome that burden. She was above such feelings! She would not allow her feelings for her friends to be enslaved by that one black stain in a tapestry of gold.

She almost laughed, as she reminded herself that if her life were to be woven into a tapestry, it would hardly be made of gold. God, she hadn't had nearly enough to drink yet. But Keitaro came first. And if his fourth bout of retching was any indication, he'd had more than his fair share.

"Easy now…" she held him by the shoulders as his stomach emptied itself of its poison.

Most sugars got absorbed into the stomach within the first few seconds of being swallowed, so even if he were to throw up all the night's intake, there might still be enough left to affect his brain a little. Enough keep his mind off of Naru. For now, at least.

Kitsune gritted her teeth. Were temporary solutions really the best she could come up with? She was tired of feeling so useless and shallow. All she could offer were passing fancies, be it booze or flirtations. Even if she fucked him, it would only be a momentary distraction. Neither of them would look on the act with anything but shame. Both would be thinking too hard about Naru, though from arguably different viewpoints. Kitsune wondered, briefly, at the fact that the idea of another woman being on her albeit hypothetical lover's mind did little to anger her at all. It helped that the woman in question was her best friend. And also that she was dead.

God damn it, she wished she was back at the dinner table. She needed more booze, and she needed it now!

"Kistune?"

The woman in question looked down at the sweaty locks that covered her landlord's weary looking eyes. But she was surprised when she saw that his lips had curved into a faint smile.

"Thank you…"

She was taken aback. Why was he thanking her? She hadn't done anything useful! If anything, she'd made the situation worse! What could he possibly be thanking her for?

"Thank you…" he repeated, lifting an arm to wipe the spittle from his face. "For not giving up on me…"

Kitsune wanted to say it was nothing, to say something reassuring. But she found herself staring dumbfounded as Keitaro stumbled over to the sink to wash his mouth out and wipe his face.

"I can see why you do this…" Keitaro said, staring at his face in the mirror. He reached for a toothbrush and began cleaning out his teeth and gums. "I hardly know what I was upset about anymore."

Kitsune noticed that as he said this, while his voice wasn't slurred, he was talking slower, taking more time to form his words. He hadn't quite lost control of his motor functions yet, though the way he grasped the sink to steady himself told her that his usual lack of balance certainly wasn't a helpful addition to being drunk.

"And I know I'm going to make recompense for this come morning…but I just don't care…" he rinsed his mouth again and grabbed a towel and wiped his face roughly, scrubbing his face and hair and dropping the towel of the floor. His face was beet red he had toweled himself off so violently, though some of that was probably the booze. His eyes looked sore, but the set in his jaw and tension in his brow was anything but depressed.

"Come on…" he said in a tone of voice that spoke of determination. "Let's go back downstairs. Everyone showed up for this, we should at least be with them."

Kitsune's eyes widened with uncertainty. "Are you sure you're up for it? You look pretty worse for wear."

Keitaro rubbed his eyes. "I'll manage. You…all of you…you were there for me."

Then he gave her a smile that she'd keep with her until the day she died.

"It's time that I was there for you."

And then he promptly passed out.

Kitsune caught him before he could hit the floor. Every muscle in his body had gone slack, and she was once again hoisting his weight over her shoulders.

"You're a real piece of work, Keitaro…" she smiled. She felt happy again. So he wouldn't gracing them all with his presence at the dinner table, but so what? The plan had worked, and better than expected. He was up and he was motivated. He may not have been able to follow through with it, but at least his heart was in the right place. Now all he needed was some time and some TLC.

She pulled open the door to his room and lay him gently onto his futon and turned to go. There was a bottle of sake down there with her name on it, and now she had an even better reason to drink than ever.

Look back at Keitaro's sleeping form, she paused. Did she really need those last few rounds? Something about this room made her want to curl up beside the guy and go to sleep right next to him. It was odd – she didn't feel at all promiscuous. And even if she did, acting on that would only detract from the situation. But no, all she wanted to do was curl up into that futon with him and snuggle down for the night.

She gave the door a passing glance before sliding it shut with her foot. No one downstairs would miss the two of them, and if they were found out in the morning…well, nothing had happened, and she would explain it as such. Not like any of them would believe it, but what did she care?

But still, taking any degree of physical enjoyment out of her late roommate's husband, innocent as it was…what right did she…?

Screw it. She was tired, he was already asleep, that futon looked comfy, and there was no real reason for her to leave him like this. If anything, it would give him someone to hold onto at night. If she could provide some emotional support, then shy shouldn't she. And besides, this meant she was finally cutting back on her alcohol intake. Sure, it was purely so she could enjoy something else in its place, but that was still something, right? Right?

She curled up next to Keitaro. He wasn't Naru. She needed to stop thinking of Naru. He was Keitaro, and that was all that mattered. They've already spent the last few months mourning her. They would always miss her. But it was time to move on.

And Kitsune was prepared to move on. And she was determined to help Keitaro move on as well. One way or another.

His face was the last thing she saw before she drifted off to sleep. His hair was sweaty and his breath still carried the minty smell of toothpaste. Suddenly, she was thinking back to how she'd felt that afternoon when he held her in his arms. Also those missed chances when they were living together at Hinatasou, all because she was too preoccupied with Seta and him with studying to get into school to fulfill that silly promise.

Maybe…maybe, if she could be there for him, he wouldn't flunk out. Maybe he'd be able to retain some portion of his promise. Maybe he'd be able to live his life in happiness. And maybe…maybe, after all was said and done…he would continue to be there for her. Just like he always used to be.

It was a happy thought to think on.