Izumi doubted any day that began with the excited voice of his beloved LalaLulu could be a bad one after that day. The fire of passion was blazing brightly in his soul as he awoke bright-eyed and bushy tailed the following mornings. At school, he spent most of his time drawing during class. He had to perfect his technique if he wanted to send his work into a publishing magazine. He even began drawing during their research club, while the other members continued to read their volumes of Young Zeta.

However, there came a morning where he was more or less awoken by the twist in his stomach, rather than his alarm clock. He didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't even want to open his eyes. If he just ignored everything, maybe today would simply skip over to the next one. LalaLulu spouted her good mornings, but Izumi didn't move.

Finally, for the first time feeling rather irritated with that enthusiastic voice, he shut off the alarm. He hadn't slept well at all.

The same couldn't be said for his parents. His mother was positivily beaming with excitement.

"You look absolutely stunning today, Nagisa." Seiya said with a smile as the three of them sat down for breakfast.

"Really? I used a really expensive facial mask last night!" Nagisa replied.

The dining room door opened. Rei stepped into the room. "Everyone, we should get going soon." His announcement was cut short when he noticed the state of the young Sena. He hadn't touched his breakfast, and he looked downright sickly. "Izumi-san, you need to eat properly today." He chided. "It won't do to lose energy during filming."

"I can't. If I eat now, I'll throw up.. If I get in the car, I'll definitely throw up. I feel super sick.."

"Don't worry about that, now." Said Seiya as he grabbed Izumi under the armpits and hoisted him up onto his feet. "The car has plastic bags just for that purpose." He said cheerily as he proceeded to haul his son away from the table, ignoring his protests of an upset stomach.

Izumi had survived the drive to the company building, and was closely watched to be sure he didn't take off in the opposite direction. They traveled up to the nineteenth floor where, somehow, Izumi was told they had a church set stashed away. They were told to head to costume and cosmetic at once.

Izumi was greeted by three, very animated, very similar looking women. They must have been triplets, or perhaps were very fond of a peach colored, curly up-do Izumi wasn't aware existed. The only difference between the three of them were the color of their head wraps and the heart splashed across their white t-shirts.

The one in the middle, the red one holding a brush, spoke first. "I'm Miho. I'll do your make up and hair."

The yellow on the right spoke next, brandishing a nailfile " I'm Shiho. I'll do your nails."

Lastly, the blue on the left spoke, holding up a measuring tape. "And I'm Maho. I'll do your wardrobe."

Rei had accompanied Izumi, as his parents were ushered off to another dressing room. "These three are the trusted backstage staff who work with Shougo. You can relax and entrust yourself to them."

Izumi was at a loss as to how he ended up here, after all, he had been so determined to stay away from show business. And yet, staring at the three women gushing over his appearance, he was being hit with a hard reality.

"Oh, once you take his glasses off, he's adorable!" said one.

"His eye color is just like Shougo's." said another.

A blue nail painted hand poked his cheek. "His skin is so perky."

Surrounded by these women, Izumi felt his mind start to become fizzy. He'd never so much as had a girl look in his direction at school, and now there were three, layering on compliments. One looked over his hands, the other his hair, the last one measuring his shoulder length.

"I just want to eat him up," said Shiho. Izumi started, he looked ready to run.

"You can relax and entrust yourself to them..." Rei tried to remind him, but even he was a little concerned at their sudden admiration.

Make-up was applied, which was a new experience for him. His hair was done, although most of it was hidden away under a wig that ended at his hips and trailed over his shoulders. Flowers were clipped into either side of his head for added measure. He was made to try on three dresses of varying bridal styles. The pink one with short puffed sleeves, a ruffled collar and ball gown won the honor of being worn for the commercial, complete with necklace and flower choker. When the divider was removed, Izumi was no longer the boy who had entered the building. He was now the blushing bride of some poor groom who didn't know what was really under it all.

Rei was the first, aside from the triplets, to see him this way. He was impressed. "Well done! You'll make somone a beautiful bride!"

"What do you mean 'bride'?!" Izumi snapped.

"No one could possibly guess that you're a boy,"

Izumi didn't quite take it as a compliment but didn't chafe at the words. Rather, he felt more self conscious than ever. "Are you sure? Because if eveyone on set found out, I would just die of humiliation." He grasped the fabric of his dress.

"You have nothing to fear." Rei's voice was gentle and reassuring. "Aside from us, only these three know your true identity. And they'll stick close to you as your make-up crew. We've given your name as just 'Izumi' as well. You have nothing to worry about."

There was a gentle knock on the door to the dressing room. Izumi nearly dove back behind the standing divider.

"Yes?" Rei asked.

A gentle voice from the other side of the door spoke. "Pardon me. I just wanted to introduce myself."

Shiho placed an assuring hand on Izumi's shoulder. "Calm down. You'll be fine."

Maho took his other shoulder. "We've made you up perfectly."

"Just do the best you can," said Miho, "and trust the rest to the make-up and dress."

A simple glance gave Rei the clear. "Come in,"

The door opened. Standing on the other side was a man clad head to toe in a white tuxedo. In his hands, he held a bouqet of orange and pink cosmos, red and peach roses, and white carnations, meant as a peace offering. "Good morning," they greeted. "I'll be your co-star for today. My name is Nishihara."

Izumi was momentarily caught by surprise, a weird sort of nostaglic feeling he had felt before. This person, the last time he had seen him, was when they were kids. But now, they stood tall and rather elegantly. Their smile was just as gentle and warm as it had been ten years ago. But his eyes, they were what caused Izumi's breath to catch. A blue so dazzling and bright, it was as if a clear sky were trapped within them. In fact, perhaps he was imagining it, but he almost saw clouds floating in them. Their hair was the same chocolate brown, cropped short around the ears with a side parted fringe that curled just so over the forehead. It framed nicely around his slender face. They looked like some sort of picture-perfect Prince that stepped out of a fairy tale. The groom's suit fit perfectly to their slim, tall frame.

And there was Izumi, the supposed-to-be Princess.

Nishihara entered the room in a smooth stride, approaching him. "Izumi-san, it's been a long time since I've seen you. Have you been well?" When he was in front of him, he held out the boquet of flowers. "These are for you."

"It's been ten years since we've last seen each other,"

"It has.."

Standing this close, Izumi could easily tell Nishihara stood inches taller than him. Even in the small heeled shoes he was wearing, he had to look up slightly to make eye contact. Even then, with that direct gaze, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He felt like his disguise was being seen straight through. If he looked too long, he would find a fault somewhere and the whole act would be up.

"I'm so sorry, Nishihara-san." Rei said from his position near the couple. "We really should have come to you to introduce ourselves. You even brought flowers,"

Nishihara turned his attention from Izumi to the manager. "Oh, no. I've just been looking forward to meeting again. That, and I have a little case of pre-shoot jitters. Walking around helps me calm down a bit."

He's scared of doing the commercial? Izumi wondered to himself. He felt a little more eased knowing he wasn't the only one nervous about the whole thing.

Rei held out a card in both hands. It held all of his information, a gesture meant as a formal introduction, similar to shaking hands. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Rei Sagara, of Sena-Pro."

Nishihara took the card. "Yes, I've heard of that talent agency. They've debuted a few new talents recently, correct?"

"Yes, they have."

"Is Izumi-san represented by Sena-Proi as well?"

Izumi went rigid at the mention. This was certainly the start of a trail of evidence leading to his embarrassing reveal. Rei stepped in and quickly covered any possible lead.

"No, she's not actually in the industry. She's a relative of Nagisa's and filled in as a back-up during that shoot ten years ago."

"Oh, I see." Nishihara regarded Izumi once again. "So that's why I never saw you around. I was a little disappointed. I had hoped to work with you on more projects."

Izumi looked at the boy in mild surprise.

"I enjoyed working with you when we were younger, is all."

Before Izumi could reply, someone knocked on the door. Without waiting for a prompt to enter, the door opened and a staff member called inside. "We're getting ready to start filming. Can you please stand by?"

Something akin to a hand made of ice wrapped itself around Izumi's insides and crushed them tight. He felt his legs freeze, and all together his heart dropped. He shrank into himself, becoming smaller next to Rei as he huddled into the bouquet of flowers.

"I'll get going, then." Nishihara said, with a final glance back to a now trembling Izumi.

"Yes, thank you very much." Rei said cheerfully, oblivious to the terrifed girl beside him.

Nishihara's gaze lasted a moment longer, closely considering Izumi, before he took leave of the room.

Izumi, Rei, and the triplets stood outside the opened doors to the church proper. Nishihara had gone in ahead of them, as his place was to be at the front near the alter. Izumi thought he was going to be sick, and began to worry he'd end up soiling the dress... again.

Rei adjusted his glasses as he spoke. "You can mess up as many times as you need."

"That's not it.."

Rei looked over to Izumi.

He was visibly rocking, as if he were about to topple over by some unseen force. "I think we're having an earthquake right now."

"You're the only one that's quaking here..." Rei observed.

"I can't do this! I'm gonna faint!"

"You can faint all you want after we're done filming."

A script assistant stood at the opened doors, flanked by two footmen in black tuxedos. "We're ready to start!"

His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure everyone on set would be able to hear it. Or perhaps, it would completely leap out of his chest like they did in cartoons. He felt like he was going to be sick, yet some part of him - perhaps adrenaline - kept anything from actually coming up. He stood at the closed doors, and heard the faint sound of the director shouting from the other side. The door opened to reveal him standing alone.

Strange, that for a moment, he actually felt like he was walking down the aisle of his own wedding. The room was filled with people he had never seen before, and the church itself was so imaculately, he could hardly believe he was inside a high-rise.

Willing himself to move forward, he walked with haste to get the scene overwith. All he had to do was walk to the altar, then leave with the groom, from what he had glancced of the script. It would be easy.

That was, until his dress snagged under his high heel and he was immediately introduced to the carpeted floor. He landed hard. Everyone in the room stared in both shock and concern.

"Is the costume okay?" Someone shouted.

The triplets rushed over to the fallen bride to quickly adjust anything that might have been dislodged during the tumble.

I knew I couldn't do this. It's just like ten years ago. When he had dropped the bouquet the first time, and proceeded to wet himself in the distress. I'm going to mess up and ruin everything again. He felt himself starting to cry, despite his effort to keep himself from doing so. Then he remembered, he had seen the commercial play on the television. That meant it was completed, it had gone right after all. But... how did that commercial get finished... then.. I messed up..

A hand appeared in front of his vision, bringing him back to the reality where he was still sitting on the church floor. Resting within the palm was a small, yen sized marble. Looking up, he saw the owner of the hand was Nishihara.

"Here, would you like to try using it again?" The boy asked. His expression was so gentle and calm that Izumi felt almost soothed, perhaps because he wasn't being yelled at for messing up already.

"Again?" Izumi asked, as a foggier memory slowly rose in his mind. He had seen that marble before.

After the first take had been squared away and little Izumi cleaned up and set right again, the poor boy had dissolved into tears off to the side of the set. He wanted to go home, he didn't want to be here anymore. He cried loudly. No one on set seemed to be able to calm him down and production was at a stand still.

Little Nishihara had been observing the whole ordeal. He approached the boy and held out his hand. "Do you want to borrow this?"

Izumi stopped his crying to look at what was being offered from the boy. "What is it?"

"It's a lucky charm," Nishihara replied, "You hold it to your chest and say 'calm down, calm down,' and all the nervousness goes away."

"That's right. It was because of your lucky charm that.."

Nishihara gave a small smile and nodded, turning over his hand to drop the marbel into Izumi's. He accepted the lucky charm and held it in his open palm. He did as he remembered, holding the marble to his chest and chanting 'calm down' over and over. His eyes opened in surprise. He felt.. normal. "It's just like back then! The nerves are gone!"

"All right," Nishihara said, amused, "You did it."