Chapter 1


Saturday. The first day of the usual two-day weekend.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

"…urgh." Urashima Keitaro stirred. Blindly, he fumbled for the alarm clock. Smashing the snooze button like a certain green-skinned irradiated brute, Keitaro rolled over and felt an unexpected sensation in the palm of his hands.

Immediately, warning signals flared up and he prepared himself for a world of pain. He had been in this simultaneously-enviable-and-yet-not-enviable position countless times before. The only reason he had not reflexively jerked his hand away from the admittedly pleasant feeling was that he had yet to deduce the identity of the absolutely-not-supposed-to-be-there bedmate.

It should be noted that Keitaro had yet to open his eyes for two reasons: one, he couldn't see very well without his glasses and two, he didn't want to wake up to an angry visage of whoever was on the other end of his arm.

Hmmm…based on the 'volume', I can rule out Shinobu, Su, and Sarah. They're still young, so puberty may bless them in the future. This 'volume' is also inconsistent with Kitsune and Mutsumi. Assuming it's not a surprise visitor, like Amalla, Tsuruko, or Haruka, that just leaves Naru, Motoko…and Kanako.

Since the self-appointed 'Pervert Patrol' would have violently reacted by now, by elimination, it must be my own (adopted) sister, Kanako. It certainly is in line with her usual behavior and habits. I really wish she would stop relying heavily on me, her big brother; I can't keep her company like this, especially once she finds a boyfriend.

Slowly opening one eye, Keitaro noted that the hair color of the yet-to-be-positively-identified individual was jet black, supporting his hypothesis. However, he also noted that the short hairstyle, absent of a ponytail, did not support his hypothesis.

Who's been sleeping in my bed then?

The figure mumbled something incomprehensible to human ears.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" asked Keitaro, still keeping one eye closed as he leaned in closer.

"…Five more minutes, Kei-Kei," murmured the unmistakably female voice.

One that Keitaro hadn't heard in ages, along with a nickname that only one other person ever used with him.

His mother, Yurika Urashima.

His hand retracted at light speed and his face blanched as he gradually forced his other eye open to verify that, yes, indeed, he and his birth mother were sharing a bed at this very moment. Quickly checking his own state of dress, he was relieved to find that his pajamas and boxers were still very much properly worn on his body, no suspicious bodily fluids were to be seen anywhere on the bedsheets, and most importantly, his mother was at least still clothed.

To his horror, he realized that she was not in her own set of pajamas, but rather donning an oversized shirt, one that Keitaro immediately recognized as his own. His mind reeled at the potential implications: had they crossed a line last night? What was she doing here at the Hinata Sou, in his room, in his bed? He certainly didn't remember getting drunk with Kitsune or anything, so it couldn't have been alcohol-related.

Before succumbing to a complete meltdown, he peeked under the sheets once more and breathed a sigh of relief — his mother was wearing sweatpants, likely also taken from Keitaro's closet. He then noticed a neatly folded pile of clothes at the foot of his bed; likely his mother's, indicating she had at least been in the right state of mind when she changed into her impromptu sleepwear.

Vacillating between panic and relief was going to be the death of Keitaro at this rate.

Armed with the knowledge that his mother was at least in a presentable state, he gently shook his mother's shoulders. "Mom, please wake up. The other girls will get the wrong idea if they find you here. Please wake up, Mom." Internally, Keitaro was sweating bullets, but his voice kept its even, pleading tone.

For his efforts, his mother muttered something inaudible to him, then resumed her slumber.

Growing anxious and impatient, Keitaro increased the forcefulness of his shaking as well as the volume of his voice, bringing his head closer to her ears.

This time, her reaction was markedly different. Her arms shot out and encircled Keitaro's neck, pulling him into a tight embrace, threatening to suffocate him in her bosom. If not for the teeny-tiny fact that they were blood-related mother and son, he might have almost found the situation erotic and enjoyable.

"Mmph! Mmmph!" Keitaro struggled to free himself from his mother's iron grip; every second spent in this compromising position was one second closed to certain death if discovered by certain individuals. OK, maybe not certain death, but painful less-than-warranted retribution, at the very least.

His wildly flailing arms tried to create space between the two of them, but in classic Keitaro fashion, they somehow ended up on a certain part of the female anatomy.

His ears were rewarded with the lewdest sound he had ever heard his mother make.

Fighting down his inappropriate arousal, his hands detached once more while his mind raced to find a way out of this predicament ASAP. Unable to speak (for obvious muffled reasons), Keitaro opted instead to attack his mother's one weak point: she was very susceptible to being tickled.

Carefully ascertaining his hand's relative position (pun fully intended), he started assaulting his mother's sides as viciously as a starving t-rex upon a fresh piece of meat. Involuntary giggling from his mother signaled that it was working as intended. At least it wasn't the moaning from earlier. He shuddered at the recent, probably unerasable, memory.

He continued to up the intensity of his relentless tickling, now feeling his mother twitch in addition to the giggling. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of two certain somethings rubbing against his face even more distractingly than before.

Once again, Keitaro cursed the fact that this was happening with his own mother, of all people. At least with Kanako, he could use the excuse that they weren't blood-related, though that would easily backfire on him if he ever tried it.

Bit by bit, human language emerged out of the giggling fits. "S…St-…stop! Ple-please! No-no more! Gah!"

But Keitaro could not, would not, yield, not until he had extricated himself fully and put enough space between him and his mother so as to avoid any misinterpretations from the other tenants.

One more push, then I can regain my status as a free man, and maybe even preserve my life and cancel my one-way ticket on Keitaro Airlines.

The tickling intensified once more, as did the unanswered pleas for mercy from his mother.

Unfortunately, so did the volume of her cries, something Keitaro had forgotten to take into account.

From the other side of his door, a voice suddenly asked, "What's going on in there, Urashima?"

Keitaro froze upon hearing the swordswoman's none-too-happy voice. If she opened the door right now, Keitaro was a dead man. Caught in a landslide (his mother's bosom), no escape from reality, he vowed that, if nothing else, he would at least protect his mother from the brunt of Motoko's attacks. He had no idea if his superhuman endurance and regeneration were hereditary, but he wasn't willing to risk it.

Rolling himself and his mother over, he now hovered over her prone form, an easy-to-misinterpret position, but he simply gritted his teeth and prayed. This was to protect her from Motoko's Ki attacks, he told himself.

"Motoko! I heard you shouting at Keitaro again! What did he do this time?"

Great. The other member of the Pervert Patrol had arrived at the scene as well. Now Keitaro was certain that he was a dead man waking, er, walking.

The two girls, upon hearing a woman's voice begging to "Stop! Please!" immediately slammed the door open and barged in, prepared to dispense their unique form of justice.

Keitaro mentally began a countdown from twenty, both thanking his mother for bringing him into this world and also cursing her for being the reason he was about to leave it.

Not waiting for an explanation, Naru brought her first back, while Motoko drew her sword.

Time slowed down.

Keitaro tried to stammer out a response, but his words were stifled by twin mounds.

His mother finally began to wake up, realizing that she was embracing her son in a very affectionate manner.

"NARU PUNCH!" "Shinmeiryu Technique — Rock Cutting Slash!"

The dual attacks approached the designated target [U. K.] Estimated time of impact: 0.5 seconds.

Mama Urashima (henceforth shortened to Urashimama) realized that they were no longer alone in the room. More importantly, someone was trying to hurt her baby boy!

Just as the attacks were about to connect with Keitaro, they were intercepted by two palms, one per attempted attack. Stunned, Naru and Motoko could only cower as Urashimama's eyes blazed with the fury of a thousand sons, er, suns.

"Who dares lay a finger on my Kei-Kei?" thundered a voice more befitting the Lord of Darkness. When no response came, she repeated her question, though it would be more accurate to say she re-contextualized it as a demand. "I wake up to find someone brave of foolish enough to attack my Kei-Kei — so again, I ask, WHO. DARES?"

On the verge of passing out from the overwhelming aura, Naru was the first to answer. "I-I thought the stupid pervert was doing something to you, so I-we, we tried to knock him away to save you, miss."

Motoko followed up, "I-indeed. I felt the same as Narusegawa, that I should strike first, as immediate action seemed necessary."

Urashimama was not at all pleased with their evasive answers which sought to deflect all blame onto her son, a feeling reflected by her hands tightening ever so slightly around Naru's closed fist and Motoko's sword. "Are you two actually accusing my Kei-Kei of doing indecent things to me? In his sleep?" she asked incredulously.

Keitaro, having only just realized that he had yet to be sent flying, as well as being released from his mother's death grip, took this opportunity to extract his face and chime in.

"Actually, I've been awake for a while now, but due to various…circumstances, found myself…um, stuck, I guess." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, inwardly shocked that he had been allowed to give his side of the story for once.

"LIAR! I heard this woman begging you to 'Stop!' and the like!" cried Motoko, still trying to free her weapon from Urashimama's grasp.

"Oh, that? Kei-Kei was just tickling me; he seems to know all of my weak spots", Urashimama explained in a far-too-suggestive tone.

Naru, now even more enraged than before, bellowed, "Keitaro! Who is this woman and why does she call you 'Kei-Kei'? What's your relationship with her?" Naru would never admit it, but the obvious signs of jealousy were all too apparent to a parent.

Urashimama couldn't pass this chance up to tease her. "Me and Kei-Kei are very close. I've known him longer than anybody. We used to bathe together and sleep together all the time. So, if the two of you have no more actual grievances with my Kei-Kei, could you kindly get out and let us have some privacy?"

Motoko lit up like a tomato-infused stoplight. Naru recoiled slightly, but since her fist was still encased by Urashimama's own, she could only stare in shock. Keitaro's slept with someone else before? Impossible!

Keitaro had finally had enough. "Mom, don't say such misleading things like that! They'll end up taking their anger out on me!" Turning to the younger women in the room, he explained, "This is my mom, Yurika Urashima. Mom, these two are tenants of Hinata Sou, Naru Narusegawa and Motoko Aoyama."

The girls blinked, then started shouting questions over one another.

"Why is your mother in your bed, Urashima?!"

"I don't know, Motoko! She was here when I woke up this morning!"

"Why is she wearing your clothes, Keitaro?!"

"Wait, how did you know these were my clothes, Naru?"

"Ur, just a guess! They don't look like they fit her!"

"What kind of son are you? Why didn't you prepare a room for her?"

"I didn't even know she was coming here! Like I said, she was here when I woke up!"

"How did she even get in here anyways?" questioned Motoko.

Keitaro paused. "Hey, what exactly are you doing here anyways, Mom?" He wanted answers, and he needed them thirty-five minutes ago. Three sets of eyes focused on Urashimama, waiting for an explanation for, well, everything up to this point.

The digital alarm clock made an attempt to mimic its analog counterpart's tick-tock. A loud growl came from three stomachs, much to their embarrassment.

"Why don't we talk about this over breakfast?" Urashimama finally released Naru's fist and Motoko's sword and clapped her hands together, as if there hadn't been a tense standoff just moments before.

Rubbing his eyes, Keitaro sighed and simply accepted the suggestion, motioning to Naru and Motoko to leave the room so he could change in the privacy of his own room. Upon complying with his wishes, he noticed that his mother was still there, not intending on leaving.

"Mom, could you step outside for a moment? I'm trying to get changed here."

"And what's wrong with a mother watching her own son get changed? It's not like I haven't seen you naked before, Kei-Kei," cooed Urashimama.

"That was when I was still a child!" Keitaro shot back. "Please, it's kind of embarrassing for me."

"Fine. If I turn around, will that be enough?"

Accepting this compromise, Keitaro replied, "Sure, just promise not to peek, OK?"

"I don't know if I can promise that, Kei-Kei," sing-songed his mother. She hasn't changed at all, he thought.


Author's Notes:

Keitaro's parents in canon (anime/manga) do not have known names nor personalities. Everything in this story regarding Mr. and Mrs. Urashima should not be taken as canon.

You'll notice that there is no 'Romance' tag on this story, and that it is not rated 'M'. I'm not at the level yet where I can write a decent lemon, let alone an incestuous one.

Of course, you could always donate to my super-secret members-exclusive to access the 'M'-rated version of this story.

Spoiler: It doesn't exist.