If Motoko Aoyama could be described in one word, that word most certainly would have been the word: “Devoted”.
Originally, it was a devotion to her sword, to her sister, and to her role as a maiden and demon slayer of the Aoyama family. It was something that she had devoted everything towards, which she had trained and ached and poured every ounce of herself into, not so much a goal as an ideal and a self-image. She was her sword, and she was her clan, for that was what she was and what she was meant to be a part of. Yet, ever since that one infinitely fateful day so long ago now, with it's duel and it's promise, and it's defeat... none of that truly held true any longer. For she was no longer truly a swordswoman, nor a maiden of the Aoyama clan. Yes, these were undeniably attributes that she still held, but it was not and would never again be who she was.
Because she was, as of the conclusion of that duel, a servant. It was simple fact, as inescapable and unchangeable as the sun in the sky, or the earth beneath her feet. And so, ever so slowly and ever so certainly she had forced every last bit of that selfsame devotion that she had previously poured into her identity as a swordswoman and as a member of her clan and used them to hone her new identity, to force herself to become what she now must be. Certainly it was awkward at first, both for herself and for her new master. She had never before imagined that she might ever enter such a state, and perhaps it was a sign of the times or simply a sign of her master's true nature but he was at least as uncomfortable in accepting her servitude as she herself was, at-first, in giving it.
But devotion was a clever thing, for even as she might have found her new servile nature strange and foreign at first, the very devotion that had been forged from her first life now forged the second. Failure was not an option, she was a servant now, and a servant to Mister Urashima, that could not be changed, which meant that if anything must be changed then it must be herself.
Sadly, despite the time since their duel, her master still remained uncomfortable in some respects knowing of her loyalty, and unwilling to fully accept the reality that he now held the servitude of a girl such as herself. This made such disappearances whenever she insisted on asserting her role a not especially uncommon occurrence, which of course forced her to have to locate her master once more and all too commonly walking in on him in an untoward and embarrassing set of circumstances. The first few times, she'd actually raised her hand against her lord, purely from reflex brought on by her former life, but still unacceptable for any reason! It was only by her master's insistence to the contrary that she hadn't rid the world of such a dishonorable servant then and there.
But this was rather unique... she'd always had to locate her master after such silent disappearances, but such a confrontation had never before happened, and certainly never before had such a challenge occurred. Which she had accepted no less! It had been a moment of weakness brought about by the absolutely infuriating mockery of that blond foreigner. To think enlightening Naomi-san to the reality of her own feelings would impart such a result! The nerve of that woman!
Motoko fumed silently as she stalked through the hallways of the dormitory, pausing at each door and roughly throwing it open and checking each room in turn for her erstwhile master. Just because she'd had an unpleasant encounter hardly excused her from the duties of her station, and besides which she would surely need to locate her master if she was to seduce him and prove the Gaijin Pop Star wrong!
It was only about the sixth or seventh room that her frustrations began to subside enough to allow other thoughts to enter her head once more. And among the very first was of how very, very foolish it had been to accept such a challenge. Characteristically to most inhabitants of the dormitory, thoughts of the ramifications hit her like a brick. She was Mister Urashima's servant. To attempt to seduce him, to... to even attempt to tempt her own master. Well... admittedly, that was in-part why she had chosen to wear such an enticing uniform, as a quiet reminder to said master that she was his servant and that her soul and her body were at his command and for his pleasure. But...
The angry redness drained quickly from Motoko's cheeks, and the fair-skinned maid instead grew paler than she normally appeared. Awkwardly, she swallowed a lump that had appeared ever so suddenly within her throat. Yes, certainly it was obvious to her that she was in love with her master, it was perhaps inappropriate for a servant such as her to harbor such feelings, but it was clearly the truth. She had long since accepted her feelings, but it had been obvious even from the start that she could not truly act upon these feelings. To be in love with one's master was one thing, but to attempt to be with one's master as if they were equals was something else entirely! It was an absolute inversion of everything that she was, and everything that she had pledged and promised to be!
“Oops.”, was all that Motoko could say as the pieces fell into place within her mind.
Immediately her mind went to the obvious solution of this catch-22, to simply return to Naomi-san and explain her mistake, and to renounce the challenge that she had accepted... just a few minutes prior.
A sense of dread set upon Motoko, and an extremely uncharacteristic image of the foreign celebrity popped into her head, mocking and jovial as she looked down upon Motoko (despite being the same height). Of course the little Japanese servant-girl couldn't manage it, had to give up in less time than the length of her newest song. Oh, what was it about you ask? Nothing much, just this poor little Japanese girl she knew, failed at everything she set her heart to, everyone thinks she's so pathetic, the whole world's going to hear about it. I think I'll call it...
Motoko's eyes went briefly bleak at that mental image. Truth be told, she had had no idea whom Naomi Newman was before they had first met, she never had any interest in things like pop culture or celebrities before arriving at the dormitory, and in large part still didn't. Although she was well aware that her master was quite the fan of their dorm-mate even before arriving. But the irrational thought of her celebrity friend and room-mate making such a humiliation not only known but world-famous...
The maid shook her head violently. A look of determination came over her. No, she had no option, she must not forfeit this competition. Motoko clenched her fist, knowing now that failure was not an option!
Which... really only made the equation in her head all the more difficult to solve.
Yes, clearly in a battle between them they both had certain weapons to make use of. She had spent a considerable amount of time attempting to illustrate the limitations of her status to her master, namely the complete lack of any. She was a servant, meant to and able to and willing to provide for him in any way, and every way, should he desire it. And while it was undeniable that her master was something of a shy, awkward, and kind man who would be exceptionally reluctant to force himself upon any girl servile or otherwise, surely such an education would at least buttress such... erotic imaginations of her role. And while she had no misgivings about being truly beautiful, she was still quite confident in possessing a reasonably pleasing and attractive female form.
But... she was also well-aware of the advantages that Naomi held. Even before his arrival at the dormitory, Mister Urashima had been a fan of her's. Admiring her as a stranger and collecting her songs and certain other paraphernalia. Much of which had since been disposed of or gone into storage for the sake of how obviously embarrassing such a fascination must be in the presence of the woman herself. Something which had been commented upon without mercy by every other inhabitant of the dormitory, including Mister Urashima himself, at his arrival. And while she herself might not have been inclined to care for such things, through the woman's fame and friendship, she had learned the basic history of the songstress.
Born in California, and attending time in Japan in her youth in thanks to her father's work which owed to her fluency, returned to America, and returned to Japan more recently to capitalize on her linguistic skills for a tour and other celebrity activities. Of course, it had been some time since the beginning of said tour, so Motoko was all but certain of some manner of ulterior motive, although it may well have been as simple as Naomi's obvious affections for them all, celebrity-status aside the blond was hardly out of highschool. But it was also obvious that Naomi had developed actual affections for Mister Urashima, in spite of their unfortunate introduction, and it was equally obvious that he also had similar affections that were similarly unspoken. No, the two had clearly progressed past the realms of friendship and into mutually shared and mutually oblivious romantic tension!
...Shit.
Motoko pursed her lips, placing the crook of her finger at their junction as she realized how potent an advantage that Naomi was likely to wield should she be able to apply herself... which seemed worryingly likely considering the girl's recent 'revelation'. Obviously unfounded rumors of how 'easy' American girls were bounced angrily throughout Motoko's head, each reverberation sending more worry through her spine and echoing out to the tips of her fingers, the tips of her toes, and the tips of her hairs.
But most worryingly of all was still the handicap she was suffering under. She could not, and would not dishonor Mister Urashima by attempting to seduce him beyond her station. Her body was his to survey and use, not the other way around.
It was then that an imaginary lightbulb pinged above Motoko's head. And the answer to her dilemma was suddenly crystal clear, and utterly unmistakable. She couldn't seduce her master.
Which meant, she had to entice her master to seduce her!
Sat Oct 29 22:07:55 2016