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Under a raging storm, someone knocked on Motoko's door. She opened apprehensively, prepared for a fight. Standing on her door was Keitaro, dripping wet, after all this time. His eternal vacant smile was missing from his face; it was obvious something was wrong.
"Motoko, it's been so long. May I come in?" He tried to fake a smile, but she could only see a sad simulacrum of better times. Trying not to stammer, to look too surprised, she let him in saying nothing.
After cleaning up and drying off he didn't look as bad, but his eyes, they seemed so dead. "Keitaro, can you please tell me what's wrong?" She asked, inching near him to be a supportive, comforting figure for him when he needed it the most, just as he was there for her all those years ago.
"It was that obvious, huh?" He sighed, putting the cup of tea down in front of him. "Things were tough between Naru and me. At first we thought it was just inexperience and my natural clumsiness. I wish it was that simple. We just didn't connect; the communication problems were obvious, even when we were dating. In time, I started to favor longer expeditions, to go into the deepest corners of the world, somewhere where I could be away from her." He chuckled to himself. "Promises mean nothing after all"
Keitaro hung his head, attempting to hide his tears from Motoko. It was meaningless. She embraced him, nesting his head on her chest, as he continued to let his secrets out.
"By the end we fought a lot, all the time. It wasn't innocent punches that threw me in the air anymore; it had degenerated into seriously trying to hurt me. 'Why can't you be more like him!?' she yelled all the time."
Motoko knew whom Naru meant with 'him'.