Disclaimer:

All intellectual and property rights of Love Hina belongs to Ken Akamatsu. Manga and anime rights belong to whomever holds them for each country or region. The world of Love Hina is being used without permission and without the intent of infringing upon these rights. No profit is being made. If you recognize it, it belongs to Ken Akamatsu. If you don't recognize it, there is still a strong chance it belongs to Akamatsu. The seldom and rare things that Akamatsu doesn't claim as his own and could be construed as mine I release to Public Domain.

This work was not beta read. If you, the reader, find anything in error, feel free to let me know and I will endeavor to fix it if I can. As such, thank you for making this better for the next reader. Those who wish to beta read this story merely has to let me know.

* * *

It was after cram school and Masayuki Haitani, Kimiaki Shirai, and Keitaro Urashima were hanging out.

"Oh man, decisions, decisions," Shirai complained. "I only got enough money for one comic. Do I get the American 'Green Lantern' or the latest 'Ah Megamisama!' or a hentai doujinshi based on 'AstroBoy'?"

Haitani gave his friend a noogie. "You and your foreign superhero comics."

"Ha, you wish you were half as cool as the Justice League," Shirai retorted.

"What nonsense! How can anyone dressed up like that be cool? Right Keitaro?"

Keitaro wasn't paying much attention as his friends shopped for some comic books. He was busy worrying about getting into Tokyo University. Mostly he was busy feeling sorry about himself. Brooding, he thought to himself, "I know I'm such a loser, but I really need to pass this time. At this rate, my promise girl will graduate before I even get in."

"Right Keitaro? Keitaro? Hey, Keitaro!"

"Huh? What?" Keitaro was startled by Haitani pulling him into a noogie.

"Spacing out? What, now that you live with all those hot babes, are we not exciting enough for you, Keitaro?"

Keitaro began to panic and wave his hands about. "No, no, nothing like that."

"Well, I was just saying how stupid Shirai is for reading those silly superhero books. Give me something more for the men instead of the boys, if you know what I mean." Haitani nudged Keitaro in his ribs.

"Ha," Shirai disagreed, "you wish you could be like a superhero and not just a regular, old loser. Right, Keitaro?"

Keitaro shrugged. "I'm sure being anyone else would be an improvement for me. I wouldn't mind some superpowers, though. Just to keep up with the girls."

Keitaro's two friends both gave him flat stares. "How could you say that?" Shirai gasped.

"You live with all those sexy babes. You don't know how lucky you are," Haitani argued.

Keitaro shrugged as he turned towards the display rack and browsed the titles.

"Oh, decisions, decisions," Shirai returned to complaining.

Haitani pulled a comic off of the shelf. "Bah, I know what I want. And it doesn't have men dressed in tights."

"What?" Shirai screeched. "Have you not seen Supergirl? Mary Marvel?" At Haitani's blank-eyed stare Shirai shuddered. "Oh my god, I have to indoctrinate you into the goodness that is Psylocke and the other X-Babes."

"Why don't people do this?" Keitaro interrupted the discourse of his friends.

"Do what?" Haitani looked over Keitaro's shoulder to find that he was holding a Spider-Man comic. "Read more comics?"

Keitaro shook his head no. "No, dress up in a costume and fight crime or something. Like this guy, he's got a cool suit, some kind of rope gadget, and I bet no one thinks he's a loser."

Shirai sighed. "He also has the proportional strength, speed, and abilities of a spider. He spends most of any comic either trying to make ends meet or cursing his luck. And, on top of how superheroing gets in the way of leading a normal life, the publisher of the city's biggest paper has it in for him and constantly drums up bad press. Really, if you strip away the cool spider-powers, the awesome adventures, and the string of hot girlfriends, he'd be as pathetic as you, Keitaro. Though he would still be ten times smarter and have passed his entrance exam on the first try."

"What? You thinking of dressing up like a crazy loon?" The way Haitani was gazing at Keitaro with such intensity can only be described as diabolic.

"Er ... no! Not at all."

"Well, that's good. Because besides the cops not liking vigilantes, any moron who decided to fight crime would probably get his ass kicked. He'd be dead inside of a week, sooner if he ran into yakuza."

Keitaro rubbed the back of head while chuckling sheepishly. "I guess weaklings like us can only dream of being cool, huh?"

* * *

However, the seed had been planted. Keitaro couldn't help but daydream at what it might be like to don a costume and arm himself with a few handy gadgets.

"Oh Keitaro." Naru swooned as Keitaro, in a garish, purple, full body costume,

tied up the last of five thugs. "How can I ever repay you for saving my life?"

"All in a day's work, ma'am."

"No, I insist. Maybe I can show you how appreciative I am." Naru began to

undress.

"Oh Keitaro, we are appreciative too." Turning around, Keitaro noticed the

rest of his tenants. They too were in various states of undress.

"Oh Keitaro! Keitaro! Keitaro!" the women moaned his name.

Unfortunately, his daydreaming did not go unnoticed, nor did his erection. "You pervert. I don't even want to know what your dreaming about, but to call out your own name? What kind of sick bastard are you?" Naru winded up and unleashed an unholy haymaker that blasted Keitaro through an open window and out to the ground below.

"Bah, daydreaming when he should be studying," she huffed as she dusted off her hands and left the dorm manager's room.

Outside, Keitaro groaned as he picked himself off of the ground and dusted himself off. "Guess I deserved that. I bet if I was James Bond, she'd treat me different," Keitaro grumbled as he made his way back into the inn. "Face it," Keitaro paused his thoughts to sigh, "I'll never get any respect." He then put his daydreams aside in favor of returning to his room to study more.

However, the thought hadn't left his head, and the next day saw him fantasizing about it again as he went about his chores. This time, he imagined being in a park surrounded by deadly ninja. It did not matter how endless the wave of ninja were, Keitaro was beating them down and back with aplomb as quips flowed naturally from his lips. While in real life, Keitaro was swinging a broom around in a clumsy and spastic manner. With a swipe, he knocked one of Kitsune's sake bottles off of an end table. Then, with a sudden turn, Keitaro swung around to get the imaginary ninjas behind him. The noise of the falling bottle attracted Shinobu's attention, who came into the room to investigate the noise. Keitaro, meanwhile, took a step backwards and onto the bottle. "Yeah!" he cried as he lost his footing.

"Sempai?" Shinobu wanted to ask if everything was alright, but the form of Keitaro hurtling towards her chased such concerns away.

With a crash, the two went down. "Oomph," Keitaro exhaled as he landed upon the floor. Dizzy and disoriented, Keitaro was slow to realize his situation. And as fate would have it, Motoko entered the room and caught him in the compromising position.

"You letch!" she cried in anger. "Rock Splitting Sword!" Keitaro was once again evicted from the dorms without having to pass through the front door.

"Why me?" he lamented as his impromptu flight landed him in the hot springs while it was still being used.

"Pervert!" Naru's favorite battlecry echoed off the bamboo fencing as she knocked Keitaro for another loop over said fencing and into the trees beyond.

Remaining lying down at the base of a tree he flew into, Keitaro reflected on a single thought. "Certainly hardened criminals would be more gentle than the girls."

By the end of the week, Keitaro came to a conclusion. He concluded that putting on a costume to fight crime would be less painful than staying in the inn all the time, and anything that meant he could spend less time at the inn, and therefore have less opportunity to be betrayed by lady luck, would be a good thing. So now, Keitaro was faced with one main dilemma: what would his costume look like?

"I need it to look cool," Keitaro was thinking to himself. "It needs to earn respect ... make me feel like a man. But it also has to hide my identity. I can't risk the girls' safety because someone was gunning for Keitaro Urashima. But ... where do I get one? I don't know the first thing about sewing. What I need is a fashion designer for superheroes. I get the feeling Nike or Oakley wouldn't quite cut it. But who can I ask without raising any suspicions?" So deep in thought was Keitaro, he didn't notice Su giving him her usual form of greeting – a flying kick to the face.

"Hey ya's, Keitaroo!" Kaolla greeted him from where she landed on the floor.

Keitaro groaned as he rubbed his face and sat up. "Su, how many times do I have to tell you to stop kicking me?"

Kaolla Su stood there in thought, finger tapping her chin a she stared off into space. "I don't know, how many times have you told me so far?" She shot Keitaro a smug smirk before running off laughing.

Keitaro sighed and shook his head. "I need to find someplace quiet, to think," he thought to himself. "I suppose my room will do, even though no one ever bothers to knock before coming in."

Alone in his room, Keitaro thought and thought. "I'll need a costume, but where to get one? I can't really make one. Su probably could make one, but she'd probably make it so it blows up while I was wearing it. If I had her make me weapons ... Oh! That would be awesome. But I can't go to her; no one can know about this. The first rule of superheroes is that no one knows your secret identity, because then it would not be a secret any more. So how to get one? I need to think of this like an exam question. I'll just focus on the problem until the answer comes to me."

However, his mind wandered at some point, and Keitaro became curious about how he'd look in a superhero costume. Stripping down to his boxers, Keitaro stood in front of a mirror and posed in various comic book hero poses. And while he thought he'd look cool in some sort of costume, he had to admit to himself that he also looked rather scrawny.

It was while Keitaro was making all kinds of superhero gestures in his underwear when Naru decided to drop on in, literally. Moving aside the board that kept the hole in her floor covered, Naru landed with cat-like grace. However, she was less graceful in reacting with the sight that greeted her unannounced entry. "What the ... ? What are you doing, you pervert?"

Keitaro spun around red-faced, feeling guilty at being caught. "Na- Na- Naru? What are you doing here?"

"What am iI/i doing? What are iyou/i doing?" She then punched Keitaro, knocking him out of the window. However, once she did so, she felt guilty for being the one who entered his room unannounced when he was changing. "Right," she thought to herself, "I owe the pervert an apology. I'll just wait for him in my room, he's sure to join me soon for our study sessions."

* * *

It was a couple days later when a solution presented itself to Keitaro. It was after cram school on his walk home that Keitaro made a discovery.

"And so I said to her ..." Haitani trailed off in the middle of a story. "Whoa, check out those babes!" He pointed at the backs of a group of four schoolgirls walking ahead of them.

"Oh yeah, I'd like to get me some of that action," Shirai agreed.

Keitaro groaned. He recognized his tenants and remembered what happened the last time his friends made perverted comments that was overheard. Motoko was just plain scary. Looking around quickly, Keitaro silently slipped into a nearby door to some shop. His friends hadn't noticed his dodge as they were too busy staring at the girls ahead. As Keitaro slipped further into the store, he could hear Motoko chastise his friends with her sword-skills. Looking around, Keitaro realized he was in a pawnshop of sorts.

He quietly mused to himself, "Wow, I pass by here everyday, and I never noticed this place was here." Browsing the random objects, odds and ends, and junk that littered the shop, Keitaro started to pace among the displays. He was just about to call it quits and return to the apartments when something caught the corner of his eye. Approaching the wall it hang from, to get a closer look, Keitaro found some sort of all white suit. It was composed of pants, a belt with pouches, a long sleeve shirt, and a ski mask.

"I see you found something you like," an old and gravelly voice sounded in his ears.

Jumping and spinning, Keitaro shrieked when he found a little old lady standing behind him. "Sorry, I was just on my way home when I noticed that I never really noticed this place before," he babbled.

The old lady chuckled. "My apologies, I did not mean to startle you. I said it looks like you are interested in that piece. It belonged to a soldier from an old war, decades ago. He fought in a mountain division as an infantry, a sniper I think, but I am unsure. Either way, it was intended to help troops blend into the snow better."

"What happened to him?" Keitaro became curious about the past owner of the suit.

"He died," the proprietress answered nonchalantly. "His kin sold off most of his estate, not having any use for his memorabilia. I don't know much more than that. The suit has been hanging there for years. I keep hoping some skier would buy it, but no one has shown much interest in it at all."

"Oh," Keitaro replied. Then a sobering thought hit him, "Oh! I'm not sure I could even afford anything like that, though. I do like it. It would be good for ... skiing, like you said." His pause was only a short one, and Keitaro hoped the old lady hadn't noticed it.

The old lady chuckled again. "You'd do me a favor in taking it. Why don't I make you a deal, I'd be happy to get rid of it before my next-of-kin has to sell it as part of my estate. Would that be acceptable to you?"

Keitaro nodded. "Yeah, but I don't have any money on me now. Could I come back another day?"

"Sure, I can hold it for you for ... say a week?"

"Yes, that would be great," Keitaro nodded happily before bowing to the old shopkeeper. "Thank you very much, Granny."

The old lady tittered. "Why, such manners in a young one. I am sure it would look great on you, too. Turn all the heads on the young ladies."

Keitaro blushed. "Thanks. Now, how much did you want for it?"

Keitaro wasn't rich. He did get some income as the acting manager of the Hinata dorms, though saving up tended to be difficult at times. But he did have some money and more than enough for what the pawnshop owner was asking for. Having time to get some money from the bank before needing to return to the shop gave Keitaro a chance to think about what else he needed to purchase.

"Boots and gloves, for starters. And white is all wrong. I'll just buy some dye and color it. I may need a weapon, as well. After dinner, I'll go out shopping. I can stop by the bank tomorrow before school. I can't believe I'm going to be doing this. I'm getting goosebumps. I'll have to practice though, how to be a superhero. Maybe on the roof, tonight, while the girls are in their rooms."

Keitaro managed to leave the dorms without undue notice upon his absence, helped by the fact that Naru was still somewhat angry at him and holed up in her room. At dinner, he had somehow managed to trip over his own feet and spill his drink all over her thin, white shirt. The shopping trip was quick, uneventful, and productive. He found some blue dye and even picked up a silver marker on impulse. Luck was with him as he managed to steal into the dorms and sneak into his room without running into anyone. He hid the small shopping bag in one of his drawers, under some clothes.

That night, Keitaro crept up onto the roof of the Inn and looked out over the city of Hinata Springs. "My fair city, I vow to protect you from the elements of evil," he promised softly to himself. "Now, how to start training?" Keitaro tried walking along the ridge of the roof, doing some push-ups – his arms grew tired and gave out after his eighth one, doing some sit-ups – he could only do five, and shadow boxing. Mostly, he was at a lost and rather pathetic. He also grew tired of training rather quickly. "OK, that should do it for a night."

The next night found Keitaro in his little bathing room. He had his supplies and white suit with him as he intended to dye the suit blue that night. "Alright," Keitaro mentally cheered, "I'm ready to do this. Let's see what the instructions on the packaging says." Partially filling his tub, a wooden barrel he was given by the girls to soak in, with some hot water, Keitaro began the process to dye his suit blue. Unfortunately, he also stained his hands and the tub blue. He hung the suit up to dry and tried to scrub the tub and his hands, but didn't have much success in cleaning off the blue.

"Crap! How do I explain this?" Keitaro sat in dismay, staring at his now blue hands.

The morning after, Keitaro tried to hide his hands by wearing some winter gloves.

"Mmm, breakfast smells good, Shinobu."

"Th – thank you, sempai. Oh? Why are you wearing gloves?"

Kitsune glanced over to see what Shinobu was talking about. Seeing the gloves on Keitaro 's hands, a mischievous smirk crossed her lips. "Trying to be cool, Keitaro? Or maybe you're planning on strangling some poor, unsuspecting girl?"

"Wha – what? It's nothing like that," Keitaro blustered.

Motoko looked over at him sternly. "What deviant perversion are you planning now? Does your evil ways know no end?"

"It's not like that, I said. I just ... uh ... feel cold." Keitaro tried to avoid a confrontation, but Naru had joined them at the table and she didn't look very convinced.

She reached over and grabbed Keitaro by the hand. "Don't you know it is rude to eat with gloves on." With a mighty yank, she pulled his glove off.

With a yelp, Keitaro thrust his hand behind his back, but it was too late. Everyone had noticed his discolored hand. While he hadn't dyed his superhero suit a very dark shade, having his hand in the dye for so long to work the cloth and then clean out the tub had caused it to become a rather dark shade of blue, almost black. It made for a disquieting sight.

"What's wrong with your hand?!" Shinobu exclaimed in shock.

"Heh, heh, heh," Keitaro chuckled nervously. "I ... uh ... spilled some ink on it. Uh ... It was India ink, I was trying to draw something but I ended up making a mess of things."

The girls stared at him, unsure if thy should believe him. "Why did you try to hide it?" Kitsune interrogated him.

Keitaro shrugged, beads of sweat ran down his neck as he stuttered his reply, "Kinda embarrassing, you know. Was kind of hoping to not get made fun of for being such a klutz."

"Really, Keitaro," Naru huffed, "these things only happen to you." And with that, the girls went back to eating their breakfast, though they did make snide comments about Keitaro being a klutz.

"Phew," Keitaro thought to himself as he imagined wiping sweat off of his brow, "that was a close call."

* * *

The rest of the week passed in relative normality, normal for the Hinata Inn that is. Keitaro had used the silver marker to draw some lines on his costume. One line ran down each arm from shoulder to wrist with another line wrapping around each wrist. A line ran down from his neck, became a circle mid-chest, and continued on to end at his navel. He drew silver bands around his right thigh and a band around his left ankle. Overall, it was amateurish looking but it pleased Keitaro. A couple days later found Keitaro shopping for cheap boots and leather gloves. He was able to find a good deal at a cosplay costume shop, where he even found some round goggles to wear. Keitaro tried on the goggles and was pleased that his glasses fit well underneath them. He could wear both and be able to see. Thus, by the end of the week that had otherwise passed normally for him, Keitaro had prepared a costume.

At first, just having it hidden away in his room felt empowering. He would take it out to stare at or try on late at night, when he felt safe that his tenants were asleep. "I finally got all the pieces together," he thought to himself as he gazed proudly at his suit. "Now what do I do? Maybe I should have practiced more?" Keitaro hadn't stuck to his exercise plan after he was almost caught by Motoko. "I'll have to go out. Friday night will be the debut of ... uh ... The Creeper! No, that's too suspicious sounding. The Midnight Knight? Captain Tough! Oh damn it. I had forgotten to pick a name. How could I forget the most important aspect of being a cool superhero, right after a bitchin' costume, so easily?" With a sigh, Keitaro carefully packed away his suit and hid it before retiring to bed for the night.

Keitaro awaited the arrival of Friday with a mix of equal parts excitement and anxiety. That morning, he wore the suit under his normal dress shirt and slacks. He slipped the black gloves and boots, polished to a smart shine the night before, into his bookbag along with his mask and goggles. "Wow!" he thought to himself, "This totally rocks." And Keitaro walked out from his room with his back held a little straighter, his head a little higher, and a spring to his step.

"What's got you so happy, you pervert?" Naru glared at him as he sat down for breakfast.

Keitaro shrugged. "I don't know. It feels like it is going to be a beautiful day. Know what I mean?"

Naru snorted. "Yeah, whatever."

"Here you go, sempai." Shinobu blushed as she sat a plate of food down in front of Keitaro.

"Thanks! It looks awesome, as usual, Shinobu." Keitaro smiled at the young cook.

Motoko frowned at the scene. "Trying to seduce a young child, you letch?"

However, Keitaro just didn't feel all that affected by her sharp words. He turned his brilliant smile towards the Kendoka and replied, "Nope, I'm just appreciative of this fine breakfast. I think today will be my day."

Motoko looked down to break eye contact with her landlord. His enthusiasm was infectious and she herself was reluctantly feeling its effects.

Naru merely rolled her eyes. "It'll take more than a good breakfast for you to pass your entrance exams. Maybe you should try taking your schoolwork more seriously."

Keitaro nodded his head. "Don't worry, I will." But he didn't. So excited was he about his debut as a superhero, he couldn't pay any attention in class. He went through the motions, but his mind was stuck in daydreams. The school day couldn't pass by fast enough for him, and yet even with all that time daydreaming, Keitaro still had yet to pick out a superhero name.

When the final bell finally ranged, Keitaro tried to make a clean break, but his two male buddies caught him on his way out.

Shirai sidled up on Keitaro's left. "Hey, Keitaro, ol' buddy. Got any plans for tonight?"

"We're going to go out and get wasted. Wanna come?" Haitani remarked from Keitaro's right. Throwing an arm about Keitaro's shoulder, Haitani leaned in to speak in a low voice, "We heard of this bar where the girls are wild, if you catch my drift."

Keitaro frowned. "Tomorrow's a half-day of school. We can't party?" Though Keitaro was more worried about getting away so he could try superheroing.

Shirai chuckled. "Why even bother, it is not like you're going to get into Todai. It's a lost cause, give up on it already."

"Yeah, man," Haitani agreed. "You should aim for better, more realistic goals. Like getting a hot girl drunk enough to take you home."

Naru walked by at that moment. "The three stooges," she muttered darkly as she approached them. "Perverts!" she exclaimed as she bopped the three of them on their heads. "How do you ever expect to get into Tokyo University at this rate?" Lifting her nose into the air, Naru turned and marched away from the three boys.

"Man, she's toxic!" Haitani grumbled as he rubbed his head.

"Are you sure you want to hang out with her?" Shirai asked Keitaro.

Keitaro shook his head to clear it. "She's got a point though. Sorry, I can't hang out with you tonight, I gotta get going."

"Aww! Come on, be a sport," Shirai complained.

"Wet blanket," Haitani called out after him.

Keitaro, however, just looked back and gave a jaunty wave as he strode for the exit. Outside, once he reached the street corner, Keitaro ducked off of his usual route home. "Hope no one I know sees me. Glad I could give the slip to Naru and the guys. Now I can finally get to be a superhero. As soon as I find a crime."

But Keitaro didn't find any. Bummed, he sat on a bus stop bench. "Not even any suspicious screams or activity. How do the heroes do this?" Tired, he sat there letting his legs rest up.

After some time, he grew restless again. "Maybe if I were to be in the suit and not just wear it under my clothes. Maybe something will happen then. I could practice walking on roof ledges and such." And so, he got up to find some place to change.

He came across an empty alley with a trash dumpster against a wall. Walking to the far side of the dumpster, he took the costume accessories out from his book bag before stripping and placing his civilian clothes, as he thought of them, into the book bag. Fully dressed, he hid his book bag between the dumpster and the concrete wall. He noticed a fire escape nearby that led up to the roof of the neighboring building. Keitaro ran at the wall, braced a foot against it, and leaped up while stretching his right arm up, reaching for the fire escape ladder. In his head, he had envisioned a cool, ninja-like wall jump followed by the ladder descending with his weight so he could climb up it. In reality, his foot slipped and he plastered himself against the wall, high-fiving it with his outstretched hand. Keitaro landed on his butt, hard. Giving his head a shake, and his nose a rub, Keitaro got back up.

"When you fall, you just have to get back up again." Backing up for running room, Keitaro tried again. And while this time he didn't kiss the wall, neither did he get close to reaching the ladder with his jump. So he tried again and again until he grew tired once more. Huffing and wheezing as he was bent over, Keitaro sighed out, "This isn't as easy as it looks in the comics." He then noticed how late it was getting. "I better get home before dinner is served. Shinobu will worry if I am not at the table."

So, changing once more, he went home. Unfortunately, Naru was upset when he didn't arrive promptly and complained how he was going out to be a sexual predator at some bar. So when he did arrive, he was quickly ejected and ended up missing dinner anyways as Naru and Motoko wouldn't let him in. In the end, Keitaro had to sneak in and slip into his room.

"Boy, am I glad they didn't damage my shirt enough to reveal my costume," Keitaro reflected as he quickly stripped out of his clothes and costume to hide the latter. "Really, if I was going to go to a bar, I'd have gone after dinner, not before." His stomach growled at the thought of dinner. Sighing, he dug out his study books and sat down to try to get some work done and to distract himself from his hunger. "Why couldn't Haitani and Shirai just leave well enough alone? Like I could afford to go drinking at some bar."

Later, when it was getting late, Keitaro heard a soft knock at his door. "Sempai," Shinobu's soft voice whispered from the other side of the door, "I left some food for you in the oven. You just need to warm it up." Soft footsteps padding away indicated to Keitaro that she had moved on.

Smiling, Keitaro bowed towards the door. "Thank you, Shinobu-chan," he whispered softly to himself. He waited until he was sure the others would be asleep, or at least in their rooms, before venturing forth from his room. In the kitchen, he did find some food in the oven ready to be heated. Smirking to himself, a thought came to his head. "Maybe, today isn't so bad after all. I'll just keep trying. A superhero never gives up."

* * *

A month passed. The blue on Keitaro's hand wore off quickly enough, he began to pay attention again in school soon enough, and his scheduling settled easily enough. He would go out Tuesdays after school, safe as no one accused him of going out to bars on a Tuesday afternoon, and Saturday nights. The latter dismayed Naru a bit, but even with all of Kitsune's teasing, Keitaro managed to explain it as needing time once a week to just get away and release some pressure. Since it was pretty well known that he didn't really have much money, the girls didn't think he could be getting up to too much trouble. Since he did get all of his chores done, there wasn't really any reasonable complaint, and the accident free evenings once a week help put them in a good mood. It also help Keitaro save up with less repairs to make.

So, the month passed and things settled into a routine for Keitaro. A routine that was devoid of crime for him to stop. But that wasn't a disappointment. In his suit, patrolling the shadowy areas away from the popular night spots, Keitaro felt like a superhero. He swaggered with confidence, he often shadow boxed in empty alleys, he slinked from shadow to shadow, and when he could manage it he would watch the city from some roof top.

"Slink, slank, slunk," Keitaro sung in his head as he crept on tiptoes down a dark alley on a Saturday night. "I think I got a hang of stealthy walking," he thought just as his foot knocked over an empty can causing some sort of scurrying noise to arise from a nearby pile of trash. Suddenly, an alley cat let loose an ear-splitting yowl as it leaped towards the pile of trash. "Yep," Keitaro confirmed to himself, "with all this noise, who'd notice me?"

In the caricature fashion of cartoon spies, Keitaro made his way down the alley. At the intersection with the street, he paused. "Hmm, what was that?" he pondered as he listened carefully. He heard the sound again, a metallic rattling. "Could this be?" he wondered. "I think I better go have a look."

Crossing the street quickly, Keitaro followed the strange sound. He came upon a couple youths trying to pry open the security gate on a jewelry store.

"Stop, in the name of the law," Keitaro commanded them. He had practiced, and was proud of, his superhero voice. Thanks to the thick mask and a bit of voice acting, Keitaro didn't sound like normal. Instead he projected confidence and authority, in his opinion, and had a cool, heroic voice.

The two punks looked over at Keitaro and began to laugh. "Get a load of this guy," one of them said to the other.

Keitaro observed the two delinquents closer. The first wore a one-piece jumpsuit like what mechanics, and thugs, wear. The other had a bandanna covering his head and a leather jacket.

"Who do you think you are anyways?" The bandanna clad punk jeered.

"I'm Cool-Man, but who I am is unimportant. You should be asking what I am going to do if you don't cease and desist." Keitaro found the suit empowering; he didn't feel a quiver of fear.

The punk in the jumpsuit pulled a knife out. "Oh? I'm pretty sure I know what you're going to be doing."

"You are?" Keitaro asked quizzically. "Well, I suppose it is pretty obvious."

"Yeah, it is. You're going to bleed to death." The two punks approached. The first with his knife and the other with a crowbar.

Keitaro didn't feel fear. But he did have a thought. "Shit! I forgot to include a weapon with the costume." Still, he bravely stared the thugs down. "Superheroes don't give up," he reminded himself.

Then the thugs were on him. Keitaro ducked the crowbar swing and sidestepped the knife thrust, but he tripped over his own feet and went down. Waving his arms wildly, he yanked down the pants of the bandanna wearing punk. "Ahh!" the punk yelled as he tripped over his own pants. Keitaro rolled to the side and fell into the gutter.

The first thug snorted. "You're not much, are you, you wierdo?"

Keitaro sprang to his feet. "I'm enough for a two-bit punk like you."

The first punk grinned evilly as he came in low and fast with his knife. Keitaro clumsily stepped back as the second hoodlum regained his footing. Keitaro dodged sideways from the follow up slice and into the crowbar of his second opponent.

"Ow," Keitaro yelped as he held his head with a hand and unsteadily swayed backwards. Keitaro saw stars, but didn't see the incoming knife.

"That'll teach you to mind your own business," the knife-wielding punk taunted as he twisted the blade in Keitaro's gut.

Keitaro gasped as he took another unsteady step backwards, just as a sporty k-car roared and skidded around the corner and bore down on the unsuspecting hero. The car slammed into Keitaro, throwing him over the hood where he rolled up and over the Suzuki Cappuccino before landing in the street in a bloody heap. The car skidded to a sudden stop, the driver looked back, and then the car peeled rubber accelerating away from the scene of the accident. Meanwhile, the punks were already high-tailing it away in case anyone else were to come by.

Keitaro groaned as he got up. Rubbing the back of his head, he complained, "That went well." With a sigh, he returned to the dark alley he came from. "Great!" he muttered, "Now I got blood stains and a hole in my suit. How am I ever going to get this out?" Walking back to where he hid his clothes at the beginning of the night, he reflected on his defeat. "I'll need to pick up a weapon of some sort. I'll need one easy to learn. Tonight sucked!" By the time he entered the alley, he was fully healed.

* * *

Never let it be said that Keitaro Urashima was a quitter. He cleaned his suit to the best of his ability that night while his tenants were sleeping. During the week, he bought some blue thread and patched up the suit as well as he knew how. Finally, he settled on a weapon. "Pepper spray or a stun gun isn't very superheroic," Keitaro mused to himself, "but this is just what I need." He was facing his mirror while holding one of his new weapons, a black tonfa. The other tonfa was resting in its holster on Keitaro's left hip. Keitaro gave the tonfa some trial swings. "Perfect. Bad guys beware." He didn't yet know how to use the weapon with finesse, but he could swing it and that was good enough for him. He also bought a book to learn the finer points of tonfa use from. "Next time I go out, the crooks better watch out. Cool-Man will be on the prowl."

With a final smirk to his mirror image, Keitaro unbuckled his utility belt and carefully put away his new weapons. "I'll have to find something to keep in these belt pouches," he mused as he contemplated his utility belt. "Something more useful then the breath mints I stuffed them with."

Smiling a happy little smile, Keitaro retired for the night, contemplating possible names for his new weapons. "Mork and Mindy? Laverne and Shirley? The Peacemaker and The Widowmaker? ... How about Justice and Mercy?..." With thoughts of brave daring-do, Keitaro drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Keitaro's first real confrontation a a superhero was a disaster, but he didn't let that get him down. "Superheroes don't give up," he chanted as he slipped his mask and goggles on. "So last week was a fiasco. This time, I shall do better." Keitaro usually got dressed away from the Hinata Inn, as there were usually too many people about to successfully sneak out in costume and not get caught. Tonight was no different. He was using a playground he noticed while patrolling earlier in the month. At this time of night, it was empty. Tightening the belt around his waist, he slipped his tonfa into their holders. "Alright, this time I'm ready to rumble. Look out bad guys, Cool-Man is on the prowl." Keitaro had his normal clothes packed into a bag he then hid in the sandbox. Patting the last bit of sand into place, he surveyed his handiwork. "There, that should keep it safe." Standing up, he stretched his arms wide and did a couple deep knee bends. "Let's do this," he said with a grunt.

From the playground, Keitaro stalked down Hinata Springs, keeping to the shadows. That was where he thought he'd find the criminal element. Coming to a corner, he thought he could hear music, but he was sure he could hear the sounds of a fight. Coming to a quick decision, Keitaro went to investigate.

Across from a bar, from whence the music came, he found three men beating on a fourth.

"I thought Big Ryoji told ya he did not want to see your stinking mug around these parts. Now Big Ryoji has to pound some smarts into you, Hold him boys!"

The man on the ground resisted as the two lackeys grabbed hold of his arms and stood him up, but the two men holding onto his arms held fast. "Haha Ryoji, let's show him why your the big guy around here."

"No, please. Aw, come one. I paid ya your dues," the victim whined.

"Big Ryoji don't like no whiners." The boss cracked his knuckles and took a menacing step forwards.

Keitaro slipped his tonfa from their holsters. He silently psyched himself up, "It's now or never." He stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but I'll have to ask you to cease and desist."

The thugs turned to look at him, incredulously. "Hey Big Ryoji, who's the clown?"

The boss replied, "I don't know, but there is only one of him and three of us."

"Ah," Keitaro corrected the leader, "but I brought friends. Let me introduce you to ... Demon," Keitaro raised the tonfa in his right hand, "and Hammer," he gestured with his left tonfa.

The tugs laughed at him. "Go home, you're obviously drunk." Ryoji then turned his attention back to his victim. "Now, where were we?"

"Uh, boss?" One of the lackeys pointed at Keitaro. "I don't think he's going home."

* * *

Kitsune was throwing back a can of beer when someone burst into the bar. "Hey, someone dressed like a comic book hero is beating on three thugs!" The bar grew quiet for only a moment before there was a mass scrambling for the door. Kitsune followed suit. "Looks like the night will be interesting yet." What she found, after elbowing her way through a crowd, was a guy in all blue and a mask in a brawl with three toughs. A fifth guy was cowering on the ground.

Some members of the crowd had small camcorders with them, recording the fight, as others used their cell phones. Kitsune swore. "I'd love to have a video of this to show the girls. I could tease Keitaro about how this is what a real man is like."

Meanwhile, the man in blue was trading furious blows with the assailants. As just one man, he was taking many punches and kicks. One tough had found a sake bottle to use in the fight. A punch would land on the man's jaw and he'd lash out with his club. The sake bottle was broken against the back of his head, and the hero would mule kick his assailant in the nuts.

Meanwhile, the man was howling, "I won't let you hurt him!" There was something about his voice, Kitsune thought, something deep and full of confidence. The voice of a man who never backs down.

"Give up already," one of the thugs screamed at the man in blue.

"Superheroes never give up!"

The fight was brutal, and the hero took more hits than he gave. But he held on and soon two of the thugs were lying on the ground, groaning and writhing in pain. The final tough was holding a hand to his bleeding mouth. "Nuts, this is for the birds," he exclaimed before running off. The crowd gave a loud cheer. Applause broke out.

Keitaro bent over to the victim on the ground. "You OK?"

The victim, however, responded with a punch to Keitaro's balls. "Stay away from me you weirdo!" Then the victim scrambled to his feet and ran off into the night.

Keitaro was so shocked he merely stared after the retreating man he had just saved. He didn't even notice some of the crowd were yelling at him, "What's your name?"

"What the?" Keitaro thought to himself. "What did I do wrong?"

All of Keitaro's frustration came to a head. After finally succeeding as a superhero, his first rescue treated him like a some kind of freak. "I'm a dumb-ass," Keitaro murmured to himself.

"What's that?" someone called to him.

"Dumb-Ass!" Keitaro screamed out in frustration. Suddenly, police sirens filled the air. Keitaro wasted no time and immediately ran off. He knew better than to be caught at some crime scene dressed like he was.

"Dumb-Ass? Did he say his name was Dumb-Ass? What kind of superhero name is that?" someone in the crowd asked his friend.

"I don't know? A realistic one? Really, what kind of dumb-ass dresses in a costume and then picks a fight with thugs?"

"That kind, obviously," another person in the crowd answered while pointing towards where Keitaro disappeared.

Kitsune, however, quickly got bored once the show was over and began to head back into the bar for another drink. "Man, I can't wait to tell the others about what just happened. What a story, what a story."