Author's Note: Hello everyone! This here is an AU. I'm forced to
make it AU because I have only seen up to episode 32 of Kodocha, and I
didn't wanna write something that takes place after the events that I have
no idea what're about. I'd probably just get flamed that way. So anyway,
in this fic, Sana is 17 and Hayama is 18. The other characters are either
17 or 18 as well (I'm not sure because I don't know when their birthdays
are). I've tried to keep everyone in character, but I apologize if I made
mistakes. If you could leave a note of advice in your review about the
personalities, please do.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kodomo No Omocha or any of its characters. So there.
* * *
The spotlight shone brilliantly on the mahogany stage, settled over a single actress. She stood calmly in the middle, wearing a glittering black gown with a high neck and two long slits at the sides. A bouquet of crimson roses was nestled in the crook of her left arm, while her right arm was occupied waving to the throng of screaming fans. A broad smiled stretched across her pretty face, showing off her dazzling white teeth. Her chocolate eyes glistened with a barrier of tears quickly building.
"Is that all you can do?" a teasing voice scolded to the mass of people who. "Show Kurata Sana how much her fans care about her!"
The crowd responded with roaring shouts of affection for their idol, thunderously applauding for the talented girl. Hundreds of roses were hurtled through the air, landing gracefully besides Sana's feet, creating a sweet aroma under the hot light.
"Zenjirou-sensei," Sana whispered lovingly to her childhood acting teacher. The man was truly a second father to her.
Zenjirou beamed at his actress, winking. "We all thank you deeply, Sana-chan, for appearing in this year's Komawari production after all this time. Everyone had the idea that you left our acting troupe without looking back."
Sana shook her head slowly, closing her eyes with the brilliant smile never wavering. "I could never just walk away from Komawari! I may have quit the troupe, but I'll always come back for visits!"
Sana waved to the cheering audience, gently bouncing on the balls of her feet eagerly. The people who sat in the front row were practically on the stage, raising autograph booklets and glamour photos of her, pleading for the teen actress to sign them.
One woman was left sitting in the front row, calmly looking at stage from her velvet perch. A sign flashed with numerous colors above her head, the message reading, "Break a leg, Sana."
Sana smiled respectfully at her mother, reading the encouraging sign. A chuckle escaped her petal-like lips after reading the fine print ("Not literally!") 'Only Mama,' she thought to herself.
It took nearly an hour for everyone to file out of the auditorium, the guards ushering the fans to leave immediately. Sana sat at the edge of the stage, still dressed in the gorgeous gown, her long legs dangling off of the wood surface.
Sitting alone in auditoriums after a production was always comforting for some reason. Ever since Sana could remember, she would always sit and muse in the deep silence. She came to think of it as some sort of therapeutic exercise, and used it to her advantage after almost every theatre production. Especially noisy ones like tonight.
"Sana-chan!"
Sana's head perked up to greet the feminine voice, which belonged to Matsui Fuka, her hair-stylist. She was well known for her fabulous creativity with hair, and Sana made sure to give credit to her at press conferences. Tonight, Fuka had braided Sana's hair into a circlet fashion, curling the brown tresses that fell to her shoulders and placing elegant roses and pearls here and there.
"Fuka-chan!" Sana replied, smiling at her best friend.
Fuka bounced towards the actress happily, plopping down next to her and giving the actress a hug. "You were great! Well, from what I was able to catch. And it was so sweet how you came and preformed in the Komawari production!"
"I never wanted them to think I distanced myself," Sana declared. "Does this mean I proved that to them tonight?" she added hopefully.
Fuka's head bobbed up and down rapidly. "Of course, stupid! Didn't you hear Zenjirou-sensei? He was so happy!"
"Indeed he was."
Sana turned her head toward the deep male voice speaking from the left entrance of the auditorium. The man was tall and handsome, wearing sunglasses as if he were born with them. A very pretty woman stood next to him, her hair pulled back into a relaxed bun.
"Rei-kun!" Sana chirped, spotting her manager. "And Asako-san!" Sana slid off the stage, careful as to not trip over her black heels.
"Hi Sana-chan!" Asako greeted warmly, embracing the teen actress.
"Asako-san, I didn't know you came," Sana admitted, staring up at her own idol. A wicked smile twisted her lips as she averted her gaze between Asako and Rei. "Or were you here because of my dear, sweet manager?"
"N-No, we both decided to come together," Rei stammered, playing with his fingers. Asako just stared down at floor, laughing nervously.
"Sana-chan, quit pestering them!"
The demanding voice of Sugita Aya reached the actress's ears, and Sana spotted her other best friend making her way to sit with Fuka. Aya was in charge of Sana's make-up, and was constantly getting offers to work for many other celebrities. She was a very talented facial artist, knowing exactly what colors to use on any person at first glance. She had gone with a shimmering silver eye shadow tonight, greatly bringing out the brown in Sana's eyes. A light pink shade had gently been brushed on her cheekbones, while a deep, sexy red graced her lips.
With both Fuka's and Aya's talents, it was no wonder why mangers begged for them to use their skills on the other celebrities out there. But the two stayed by Sana's side at all times, only working for Asako now and then. They were truly her greatest friends, and the three had been that way from elementary school up until they graduated from high school. That was when Sana had officially hired the two to work for her.
Sana grinned at her make-up artist. "Did you enjoy the show, Aya-chan?"
"What I saw, I loved."
Since both Fuka and Aya were constantly preparing Sana for her next scene, they never actually got to sit through a show. But that never stopped them from encouraging her, and they would often sneak into the wings to take a closer look anyway. Sooner or later in a production, Sana would have to laugh like the script told her. It got tiring after a while to thinking of something funny and chuckle, but with her two best friends waving like silly madwomen from the wings, it was much easier.
"I'm glad!" Sana ran over to give Aya a hug as she did with the others, ignoring Fuka's quirk about it being too "mushy."
Aya giggled at the cheerful actress, returning the hug. "Oh, Hisae- chan wanted to talk to you," she said, remembering the order their light- haired friend gave her. "She's in your dressing room."
Kamayai Hisae wasn't as close with the three, for her bossy personality agitated them. But she was a fun person to be around when she wasn't angry, so she was sometimes included in their plans. Hisae's job with Sana was to help Fuka and Aya with any supplies they needed. She was good for the job, always prepared with extra make-up kits and hair accessories.
Aside from being an assistant, Hisae was also a back-up manager, where her firm attitude would come into play. Sana had been flooded with job offers during a course of months, and although Rei was more than enough to handle them, Sana wanted him to spend time with Asako as well. So she hired Hisae as an assistant manager, whose leadership qualities Sana remembered from high school.
Sana nodded and headed toward the door, which led to the corridor of dressing rooms.
Her own door had a bright yellow star on it, which she taped up there herself. She laughed at the sight of it now. A face was scribbled onto it, and colorful markers were used to draw various cosmetics, such as blush and eye shadow. 'Must be the work of the great Sugita Aya,' Sana thought, shaking her head, but still smiling.
"Hisae-chan?" Sana called into the room after creaking the door open.
"Ah, Sana-chan. There's a note for you," Hisae responded calmly, leaning against the vanity.
Sana's brows furrowed as she started at her assistant manager. "I thought all letters went to my fan club first," she thought aloud.
Hisae nodded slowly. "Yeah, but I found this one right by your door." She reached behind her and held up an envelope. "You might as well read it," she said, handing it to Sana.
Sana gingerly took the envelope. It was black, and her name was written in a silver pen, contrasting highly with its raven background. A white rose was taped to it, giving the envelope an overall elegant look. 'My fans,' Sana thought dreamily, smiling at her wonderful viewers.
A slender finger slid through the fold and opened the envelope. The letter inside was also a black piece of paper, with silver words written on the surface. Sana's smile faded slowly as she read the contents.
' " Kurata" ' she read to herself.
' "I saw you from within the auditorium today. You looked beautiful, as always. The dress was stunning. Sometimes I wonder what you would look like underneath that silly cloth. I wonder what you would feel like more often. I'll find out soon, though. Whether you're dead or alive." '
Sana's mouth hung open in shock, as her face slowly turned into an expression of total repulsion. "This is," she whispered meekly, dropping the letter from her hands, "DISGUSTING!"
Hisae looked at Sana in surprise as her friend jumped on the note fiercely, punching holes into the paper with the heels of her shoes. Her face was turning red with anger and her hair started to fall apart.
"What a pervert!" Sana shouted, continuing her motion of stomping on the limp letter. "This is NOT a fan letter!" Her jumps were forced to cease as one of the heels broke off, leaving her panting.
"Well I was going to ask you to let me read it, but I suppose that's impossible now," Hisae commented, eyebrows raised. "So what did it say? Was some guy trying to get you into his bed or something?"
Sana looked up at her friend, stunned by her bluntness. She murmured an, "Oh, you're kinky," before turning angry again and stomping on the letter with her left foot. "But you're right! Well, halfway right."
Hisae shrugged. "Lots of stars get those kind of letters. I wouldn't worry too much about it."
"But," Sana interrupted, eyes gaining a slightly fearful look. SLIGHTLY. Kurata Sana wasn't easily scared, after all. 'He said, "Whether you're dead or alive." Man, what a creep.' Sana shook her head. "Never mind. I've gotta go and clean up."
* * *
Fuka stared at Sana in awe as she plucked the roses and pearls from her friend's hair. "What a jerk!" she commented after Sana's story of the letter.
Aya shook her head disappointedly while cleaning Sana's eyes. "Yeah. But it's kinda scary."
"Oh, it makes me so angry!" Sana seethed, wriggling angrily in the plush vanity chair.
Fuka put a hand on Sana's shoulder, trying to keep her from moving so much. "Well if he ever shows up, I'm going to give him a huge piece of my crafty mind!"
"Yeah, and I will too!" Aya agreed, giving a reassuring nod. "But, you know..maybe you should get a bodyguard, Sana-chan."
"Huh?"
Fuka grinned dreamily as her eyes lit up. "A bodyguard? You mean, like a hunky muscle man who will be forced to stay with us at all times?"
Aya allowed herself to grin evilly, a pretty rare occasion for the somewhat shy girl. "Uh-huh."
Fuka's hand gripped Sana's shoulder tighter, as her other hand rose in the air, curled in a tight fist. "Let's do it!" she shrieked.
Sana fought the urge to slap them both, especially Boy-Hunter Fuka. "It's just one crappy letter! I do NOT need a bodyguard!" she protested.
Fuka glanced sideways at her best friend, placing her free hand on her slender hip. "Who said anything about NEEDING one?" she replied nonchalantly. The hair-stylist rummaged through her bag to find the hairbrush. "All you have to do is act like Miss Damsel in Distress and-" Fuka stopped speaking as she stared intently into her bag.
"What is it?" Aya asked, pausing with the make-up cleaner.
Sana saw Fuka reach into her bag and pull out a black envelope, the name 'Sana' written in the loopy silver letters.
"Or maybe you do really need one," Fuka spoke softly, laying it on Sana's lap gently.
* * *
"Akito-kun!"
A fist pushed forcefully into a black punching bag, clouds of dust rolling off of the dark surface.
"Akito-kun!"
The fist struck again, followed by side kick.
"Akito-kun! Answer me already!"
A roundhouse kick slammed into the punching bag, the force wrenching it from the chain as it flew into the wall.
Hayama Akito straightened the sweatbands on his wrist, barely affected from his short workout. 'Maybe the bag isn't heavy enough,' he reasoned with himself.
Hayama glanced at the young man beside him. "What do you want, Tsuyoshi?"
Ohki Tsuyoshi glared at his best friend in disbelief. He should have known Hayama wouldn't allow any interruptions during his workout. "I have a job for you," he announced. "Or rather, your father does."
Hayama kept staring at Tsuyoshi, mentally telling him to keep talking.
"He wants you to act as a bodyguard for a girl."
Hayama rolled his eyes as he walked over to the trashed punching bag, inspecting the dent her made in the wall. 'If I had kicked harder, maybe it would have gone through completely.'
Tsuyoshi sighed and walked over to his Black Belt partner. "Will you just listen to me?" After a slight pause from the silent man, he went on. "It's Kurata Sana. Now I know you're not crazy about guarding celebrities, but-"
"I don't guard, Tsuyoshi. Especially not celebrities." Hayama glared at Tsuyoshi before going back to inspect the gaping dent.
"Come on, Akito-kun. It won't be so bad! Besides, your father personally wants you on the job."
"Tell him to hire Takaishi," Hayama answered simply. "Or even you."
"You are way more trained than we are," Tsuyoshi protested. "That's why you were chosen. Celebrities are a different case than civilians. A bodyguard should know how to use a gun AND hand to hand combat skills. Takaishi-kun and I are only trained in using weapons. You mastered both, though."
"Then my old man should choose one of his special men that work under him. He's the police chief, he should have more than enough," Hayama grunted, getting irritated.
Tsuyoshi tapped his foot impatiently. "Look, your dad wants you. Not me, not Takaishi, not one of his men, but YOU."
Hayama gripped the punching bag harshly. 'Why the hell would he want me?' he thought to himself, cursing his father. 'Why would he want an eighteen year old to protect some chic? Damn him.'
Hayama gave Tsuyoshi a slight nod. "Fine."
* * *
A/N: Good? Bad? Please let me know! Oh, and sorry if the note was a bit inappropriate, but I was trying my hardest not to make it the really cliché "I'm going to kill you." Alright, please review! I accept constructive criticism as well. Note how I said "constructive." 'Cuz you know, just writing "You suck!" doesn't help. If I get enough reviews, I'll post the second chappie!
Disclaimer: I do not own Kodomo No Omocha or any of its characters. So there.
* * *
The spotlight shone brilliantly on the mahogany stage, settled over a single actress. She stood calmly in the middle, wearing a glittering black gown with a high neck and two long slits at the sides. A bouquet of crimson roses was nestled in the crook of her left arm, while her right arm was occupied waving to the throng of screaming fans. A broad smiled stretched across her pretty face, showing off her dazzling white teeth. Her chocolate eyes glistened with a barrier of tears quickly building.
"Is that all you can do?" a teasing voice scolded to the mass of people who. "Show Kurata Sana how much her fans care about her!"
The crowd responded with roaring shouts of affection for their idol, thunderously applauding for the talented girl. Hundreds of roses were hurtled through the air, landing gracefully besides Sana's feet, creating a sweet aroma under the hot light.
"Zenjirou-sensei," Sana whispered lovingly to her childhood acting teacher. The man was truly a second father to her.
Zenjirou beamed at his actress, winking. "We all thank you deeply, Sana-chan, for appearing in this year's Komawari production after all this time. Everyone had the idea that you left our acting troupe without looking back."
Sana shook her head slowly, closing her eyes with the brilliant smile never wavering. "I could never just walk away from Komawari! I may have quit the troupe, but I'll always come back for visits!"
Sana waved to the cheering audience, gently bouncing on the balls of her feet eagerly. The people who sat in the front row were practically on the stage, raising autograph booklets and glamour photos of her, pleading for the teen actress to sign them.
One woman was left sitting in the front row, calmly looking at stage from her velvet perch. A sign flashed with numerous colors above her head, the message reading, "Break a leg, Sana."
Sana smiled respectfully at her mother, reading the encouraging sign. A chuckle escaped her petal-like lips after reading the fine print ("Not literally!") 'Only Mama,' she thought to herself.
It took nearly an hour for everyone to file out of the auditorium, the guards ushering the fans to leave immediately. Sana sat at the edge of the stage, still dressed in the gorgeous gown, her long legs dangling off of the wood surface.
Sitting alone in auditoriums after a production was always comforting for some reason. Ever since Sana could remember, she would always sit and muse in the deep silence. She came to think of it as some sort of therapeutic exercise, and used it to her advantage after almost every theatre production. Especially noisy ones like tonight.
"Sana-chan!"
Sana's head perked up to greet the feminine voice, which belonged to Matsui Fuka, her hair-stylist. She was well known for her fabulous creativity with hair, and Sana made sure to give credit to her at press conferences. Tonight, Fuka had braided Sana's hair into a circlet fashion, curling the brown tresses that fell to her shoulders and placing elegant roses and pearls here and there.
"Fuka-chan!" Sana replied, smiling at her best friend.
Fuka bounced towards the actress happily, plopping down next to her and giving the actress a hug. "You were great! Well, from what I was able to catch. And it was so sweet how you came and preformed in the Komawari production!"
"I never wanted them to think I distanced myself," Sana declared. "Does this mean I proved that to them tonight?" she added hopefully.
Fuka's head bobbed up and down rapidly. "Of course, stupid! Didn't you hear Zenjirou-sensei? He was so happy!"
"Indeed he was."
Sana turned her head toward the deep male voice speaking from the left entrance of the auditorium. The man was tall and handsome, wearing sunglasses as if he were born with them. A very pretty woman stood next to him, her hair pulled back into a relaxed bun.
"Rei-kun!" Sana chirped, spotting her manager. "And Asako-san!" Sana slid off the stage, careful as to not trip over her black heels.
"Hi Sana-chan!" Asako greeted warmly, embracing the teen actress.
"Asako-san, I didn't know you came," Sana admitted, staring up at her own idol. A wicked smile twisted her lips as she averted her gaze between Asako and Rei. "Or were you here because of my dear, sweet manager?"
"N-No, we both decided to come together," Rei stammered, playing with his fingers. Asako just stared down at floor, laughing nervously.
"Sana-chan, quit pestering them!"
The demanding voice of Sugita Aya reached the actress's ears, and Sana spotted her other best friend making her way to sit with Fuka. Aya was in charge of Sana's make-up, and was constantly getting offers to work for many other celebrities. She was a very talented facial artist, knowing exactly what colors to use on any person at first glance. She had gone with a shimmering silver eye shadow tonight, greatly bringing out the brown in Sana's eyes. A light pink shade had gently been brushed on her cheekbones, while a deep, sexy red graced her lips.
With both Fuka's and Aya's talents, it was no wonder why mangers begged for them to use their skills on the other celebrities out there. But the two stayed by Sana's side at all times, only working for Asako now and then. They were truly her greatest friends, and the three had been that way from elementary school up until they graduated from high school. That was when Sana had officially hired the two to work for her.
Sana grinned at her make-up artist. "Did you enjoy the show, Aya-chan?"
"What I saw, I loved."
Since both Fuka and Aya were constantly preparing Sana for her next scene, they never actually got to sit through a show. But that never stopped them from encouraging her, and they would often sneak into the wings to take a closer look anyway. Sooner or later in a production, Sana would have to laugh like the script told her. It got tiring after a while to thinking of something funny and chuckle, but with her two best friends waving like silly madwomen from the wings, it was much easier.
"I'm glad!" Sana ran over to give Aya a hug as she did with the others, ignoring Fuka's quirk about it being too "mushy."
Aya giggled at the cheerful actress, returning the hug. "Oh, Hisae- chan wanted to talk to you," she said, remembering the order their light- haired friend gave her. "She's in your dressing room."
Kamayai Hisae wasn't as close with the three, for her bossy personality agitated them. But she was a fun person to be around when she wasn't angry, so she was sometimes included in their plans. Hisae's job with Sana was to help Fuka and Aya with any supplies they needed. She was good for the job, always prepared with extra make-up kits and hair accessories.
Aside from being an assistant, Hisae was also a back-up manager, where her firm attitude would come into play. Sana had been flooded with job offers during a course of months, and although Rei was more than enough to handle them, Sana wanted him to spend time with Asako as well. So she hired Hisae as an assistant manager, whose leadership qualities Sana remembered from high school.
Sana nodded and headed toward the door, which led to the corridor of dressing rooms.
Her own door had a bright yellow star on it, which she taped up there herself. She laughed at the sight of it now. A face was scribbled onto it, and colorful markers were used to draw various cosmetics, such as blush and eye shadow. 'Must be the work of the great Sugita Aya,' Sana thought, shaking her head, but still smiling.
"Hisae-chan?" Sana called into the room after creaking the door open.
"Ah, Sana-chan. There's a note for you," Hisae responded calmly, leaning against the vanity.
Sana's brows furrowed as she started at her assistant manager. "I thought all letters went to my fan club first," she thought aloud.
Hisae nodded slowly. "Yeah, but I found this one right by your door." She reached behind her and held up an envelope. "You might as well read it," she said, handing it to Sana.
Sana gingerly took the envelope. It was black, and her name was written in a silver pen, contrasting highly with its raven background. A white rose was taped to it, giving the envelope an overall elegant look. 'My fans,' Sana thought dreamily, smiling at her wonderful viewers.
A slender finger slid through the fold and opened the envelope. The letter inside was also a black piece of paper, with silver words written on the surface. Sana's smile faded slowly as she read the contents.
' " Kurata" ' she read to herself.
' "I saw you from within the auditorium today. You looked beautiful, as always. The dress was stunning. Sometimes I wonder what you would look like underneath that silly cloth. I wonder what you would feel like more often. I'll find out soon, though. Whether you're dead or alive." '
Sana's mouth hung open in shock, as her face slowly turned into an expression of total repulsion. "This is," she whispered meekly, dropping the letter from her hands, "DISGUSTING!"
Hisae looked at Sana in surprise as her friend jumped on the note fiercely, punching holes into the paper with the heels of her shoes. Her face was turning red with anger and her hair started to fall apart.
"What a pervert!" Sana shouted, continuing her motion of stomping on the limp letter. "This is NOT a fan letter!" Her jumps were forced to cease as one of the heels broke off, leaving her panting.
"Well I was going to ask you to let me read it, but I suppose that's impossible now," Hisae commented, eyebrows raised. "So what did it say? Was some guy trying to get you into his bed or something?"
Sana looked up at her friend, stunned by her bluntness. She murmured an, "Oh, you're kinky," before turning angry again and stomping on the letter with her left foot. "But you're right! Well, halfway right."
Hisae shrugged. "Lots of stars get those kind of letters. I wouldn't worry too much about it."
"But," Sana interrupted, eyes gaining a slightly fearful look. SLIGHTLY. Kurata Sana wasn't easily scared, after all. 'He said, "Whether you're dead or alive." Man, what a creep.' Sana shook her head. "Never mind. I've gotta go and clean up."
* * *
Fuka stared at Sana in awe as she plucked the roses and pearls from her friend's hair. "What a jerk!" she commented after Sana's story of the letter.
Aya shook her head disappointedly while cleaning Sana's eyes. "Yeah. But it's kinda scary."
"Oh, it makes me so angry!" Sana seethed, wriggling angrily in the plush vanity chair.
Fuka put a hand on Sana's shoulder, trying to keep her from moving so much. "Well if he ever shows up, I'm going to give him a huge piece of my crafty mind!"
"Yeah, and I will too!" Aya agreed, giving a reassuring nod. "But, you know..maybe you should get a bodyguard, Sana-chan."
"Huh?"
Fuka grinned dreamily as her eyes lit up. "A bodyguard? You mean, like a hunky muscle man who will be forced to stay with us at all times?"
Aya allowed herself to grin evilly, a pretty rare occasion for the somewhat shy girl. "Uh-huh."
Fuka's hand gripped Sana's shoulder tighter, as her other hand rose in the air, curled in a tight fist. "Let's do it!" she shrieked.
Sana fought the urge to slap them both, especially Boy-Hunter Fuka. "It's just one crappy letter! I do NOT need a bodyguard!" she protested.
Fuka glanced sideways at her best friend, placing her free hand on her slender hip. "Who said anything about NEEDING one?" she replied nonchalantly. The hair-stylist rummaged through her bag to find the hairbrush. "All you have to do is act like Miss Damsel in Distress and-" Fuka stopped speaking as she stared intently into her bag.
"What is it?" Aya asked, pausing with the make-up cleaner.
Sana saw Fuka reach into her bag and pull out a black envelope, the name 'Sana' written in the loopy silver letters.
"Or maybe you do really need one," Fuka spoke softly, laying it on Sana's lap gently.
* * *
"Akito-kun!"
A fist pushed forcefully into a black punching bag, clouds of dust rolling off of the dark surface.
"Akito-kun!"
The fist struck again, followed by side kick.
"Akito-kun! Answer me already!"
A roundhouse kick slammed into the punching bag, the force wrenching it from the chain as it flew into the wall.
Hayama Akito straightened the sweatbands on his wrist, barely affected from his short workout. 'Maybe the bag isn't heavy enough,' he reasoned with himself.
Hayama glanced at the young man beside him. "What do you want, Tsuyoshi?"
Ohki Tsuyoshi glared at his best friend in disbelief. He should have known Hayama wouldn't allow any interruptions during his workout. "I have a job for you," he announced. "Or rather, your father does."
Hayama kept staring at Tsuyoshi, mentally telling him to keep talking.
"He wants you to act as a bodyguard for a girl."
Hayama rolled his eyes as he walked over to the trashed punching bag, inspecting the dent her made in the wall. 'If I had kicked harder, maybe it would have gone through completely.'
Tsuyoshi sighed and walked over to his Black Belt partner. "Will you just listen to me?" After a slight pause from the silent man, he went on. "It's Kurata Sana. Now I know you're not crazy about guarding celebrities, but-"
"I don't guard, Tsuyoshi. Especially not celebrities." Hayama glared at Tsuyoshi before going back to inspect the gaping dent.
"Come on, Akito-kun. It won't be so bad! Besides, your father personally wants you on the job."
"Tell him to hire Takaishi," Hayama answered simply. "Or even you."
"You are way more trained than we are," Tsuyoshi protested. "That's why you were chosen. Celebrities are a different case than civilians. A bodyguard should know how to use a gun AND hand to hand combat skills. Takaishi-kun and I are only trained in using weapons. You mastered both, though."
"Then my old man should choose one of his special men that work under him. He's the police chief, he should have more than enough," Hayama grunted, getting irritated.
Tsuyoshi tapped his foot impatiently. "Look, your dad wants you. Not me, not Takaishi, not one of his men, but YOU."
Hayama gripped the punching bag harshly. 'Why the hell would he want me?' he thought to himself, cursing his father. 'Why would he want an eighteen year old to protect some chic? Damn him.'
Hayama gave Tsuyoshi a slight nod. "Fine."
* * *
A/N: Good? Bad? Please let me know! Oh, and sorry if the note was a bit inappropriate, but I was trying my hardest not to make it the really cliché "I'm going to kill you." Alright, please review! I accept constructive criticism as well. Note how I said "constructive." 'Cuz you know, just writing "You suck!" doesn't help. If I get enough reviews, I'll post the second chappie!