Mon Amour

Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or Hiroshima Mon Amour

Chapter 1

Although he disguised his iron fist under layers of heavy-handed affability, there was little question that President Takarada Lory exerted a degree of control over the private lives of his celebrity stable that was very probably illegal. Had he known of it, he would have nixed the project currently clutched in Mogami Kyoko's hands without hesitation. He had Plans for Kyoko's private life, ones that dovetailed with Plans he had for the private life of another LME star. No matter how profound or well written, a script that opened with an extended bout of soulless and illicit carnal acts was not one he would have approved for any of his LoveMe girls. The LoveMe section was for those who lacked appreciation of romantic love. Giving someone in that section a project that reinforced the idea that emotions were damaging and dangerous risked undoing months of work.

Even well meaning (or meddling, depending on one's viewpoint) agency heads took vacations, however. Lory was currently on safari with his granddaughter, gallivanting around an African savannah and snapping many, many pictures of animals he wanted to add to his personal menagerie (much to the irritation of the park rangers, who were tired of listening to him insist that one little leopard wouldn't be missed, that the females of the pride would be happier if they didn't need to chase down their own gazelles, and wouldn't the cheetah family be safer if they were a few continents away from the larger carnivores?). Because of his extended absence, Lory was not available when the French film agency called. He could have overruled the foreign director's insistence that the actress who played Natsu in Box R was exactly what was needed for their updated, edgy remake of Hiroshima, Mon Amour. The script would have been expertly funneled to a more mature actress, and done in such a deft way the director would have thought it was his own idea.

But the President was on safari harassing hapless wild animals, and so his literal-minded subordinates passed the script through channels. Which was why the head of the Talent Division, Sawara Takenori, sat uncomfortably at his desk watching as Kyoko read through the first pages of the script, his fingers steepled in front of his face to hide his blush from the actress.

The original Hiroshima, Mon Amour, as Sawara recalled, was edgy enough, thank you. Watching it as a young film student in university, he had been too embarrassed to even glance at his female classmates while it was running.

Kyoko wasn't blushing. Sawara thought it might be because she was too flabbergasted at the opening scene. Her eyes were so wide they were nearly bugging out of her face. "Ah – has the male lead been cast -?" she asked, her voice faint.

"Yes, it's –" and Sawara named a French actor famous far and wide for his romances on and off screen.

Kyoko stared at him blankly. Sawara sighed. Of course she hasn't heard of him.

"I don't speak French," was her next comment. Sawara squirmed a little. It didn't sound as if Kyoko was objecting to the script; rather, it was as if she was thoughtfully considering whether or not obstacles could be overcome.

"You'll have a phonetic coach for what little French you need to speak. Most of your lines will be delivered in Japanese. It's a switch from the original, where the man was Japanese and the woman was French. They plan for all of your scenes to be filmed on sets in Tokyo."

Kyoko nodded, her expression pensive. "It's … it's not what I thought my debut movie would be like."

"Because it's a foreign production, it technically wouldn't count as your LME debut," Sawara assured her. "However, I understand why you wouldn't want to do it. Since they asked for you in particular I had to show the script to you." Relief ran across his face as he reached for the phone on his desk. "I'll tell the agency you aren't avail—"

"Oh, no, no, I don't want to turn it down without due consideration!" gasped Kyoko, going from pensive to almost manically frantic. Sawara flinched back into his chair; Kyoko's abrupt mood changes were never a good thing. "That would be unprofessional!" Clutching the script protectively to her chest, she bowed deeply. "Please allow me to keep this overnight, so I may study it and make an educated decision!"

Sawara squinted at her through the lenses of his glasses. "Ah … Kyoko-chan, you do understand the nature of the opening scene?"

"Yes, of course," said Kyoko seriously. "It's metaphorical. From what I see in the script, they both have survived terrible events. Although they aren't violent with one another, they are reliving violence through their interactions. I want to see –" she flipped through the script, frowning, "—what it is that brought them to that place, that time. I can't do that unless I read the rest of the script."

And that, reflected Sawara, was the single biggest problem. Not that Kyoko would be acting out mature content, not that having a European agency owe LME a favor was advantageous from a business perspective, not that the President was away trying to cuddle exasperated wild animals that would rather be left alone, but that the script was good. Good? It was brilliant. For those in the profession, it had award-winning-international-hit written all over it in glowing, iridescent letters that made Kyoko's neon pink jump suit pale in comparision. LoveMe's number one member was instinctively reacting to the quality of the script, eager to continue reading. She had not yet comprehended, intellectually or emotionally, that the metaphorical interactions that so intrigued her would have to be acted out using her body.

Sawara really didn't want to be around once Kyoko did finally realize that.

So he let her take the script away, breathing a sigh of relief when she made it out the door before the epiphany occurred.