Sho Business

Synopsis: What if Sho had had to make an honest woman of Kyoko in order to get her to agree to come to Tokyo with him?

Disclaimer: Skip Beat! and its characters are the sole property of the legal copyright holders. This story borrows the characters and is not for profit or professional gain. To support the original artist and enhance enjoyment of this story, it is recommended that readers purchase copies of the manga at their nearest bookstore if at all possible.

Notes: Obviously, from the description, I am taking some liberties with the circumstances surrounding Kyoko and Sho's move to Tokyo. That aside, I intend to make every effort to mold the story to fit manga events as much as possible, though some modification will be necessary.

Chapter Three: You Lose

Sho sat on the foot of his bed, staring at the flashing "You Lose" on his television screen. A Playstation2 controller dangled forgotten from his left hand. With painful slowness, he churned through the memory of his conversation with Kyoko yet again. He was 95% sure that he had just done the stupidest thing of his entire life.

'She cheated, though,' he tried to assure himself. 'If she hadn't cried....' He clenched his fist around the controller and hit the start button. The Mortal Kombat music drove into him as he did his best to destroy Kitana. To his frustration, she once again threw him to the ground, blasted him with an unbreakable combo, then laughingly removed his heart from his chest. Yet another Fatality. He threw the controller straight into the wall, too furious to notice the hard plastic crack that meant he'd have to buy another one before playing any more video games. He stretched his bare foot out and kicked the power button on the TV before collapsing backwards onto the bed.

"Shotaro, what was that sound?" he heard his mother call.

"Nothing!" he shouted.

"Are you alright, baby?"

"I said it's nothing!" His mother probably recognized his tone of voice, because she didn't ask any more questions.

Sho tried to make his mind a blank, counting the eighteen tiles that made up his ceiling over again. It was no use. What happened today would not go away just because he avoided it. Even if it made his brain bleed, he would have to reflect on what he'd done and what he was going to do next.

Married. The word somehow seemed a hundred feet tall in his mind.

What were his options? He kneaded the palms of his hands into his temples, thinking hard. Could they even get married? They were only sixteen. Nobody should be getting married at sixteen. But was it even possible? He perked up at the thought. He hopped up lightly and booted his computer, happily envisioning the oh-so-disappointing conversation where he explained to Kyoko that they couldn't get married because they were too young and the law of the land forbade it. In no time at all he had his web browser open to Google and he'd typed in the inquiry: Japanese marriage age.

"A person under 20 years of age cannot get married," Sho grinned and spun around in his desk chair, pumping his fists in triumph. When the spin lost momentum and he faced the computer again, his face froze. "... without parental consent."

He slumped over the desk again, resting his elbow on the mouse pad and cupping his face in his hand. His parents would probably consent. That was their number one dream, after all, that he would settle down with Kyoko and carry on the Fuwa family tradition of living a boring life. His eyes fell on his guitar, which leaned against his pillows at the head of his bed. They didn't want him to have his dreams. If they knew he was planning on moving to Tokyo, they'd probably lock him in the wine cellar until he was twenty. For the first time, he wondered what they would do when they found him gone. He knew he was the center of his mother's existence, a fact that had pleased him for most of his life. Now, however, that absorbing, all-consuming love could smother his chance to achieve his dreams. Would his mother really just accept the fact that her precious only child had disappeared without a trace? Not very likely.

He bit the inside of his cheek and leaned back in the chair, rotating slowly back and forth as he pondered his options. If he married Kyoko and stayed in Kyoto, he'd be bored for the rest of his life. He couldn't run away with Kyoko without marrying her because she wouldn't agree. If he married Kyoko, he'd live a boring life. They couldn't go to Tokyo and have an interesting life if he didn't marry her. It didn't make any sense. Either way he looked at it, he had to marry Kyoko.

At no point did it occur to him that he had the option of running away to Tokyo without Kyoko. From the very first time he'd conceived of the plan, she had been in the backdrop of his imagined scenes of glory and success, clapping her hands and doing the dishes. She was so innately tied in with the scheme that he couldn't separate her from the idea, not even on a subconscious level.

So, what would happen if he married Kyoko? His parents would be thrilled, that much was certain. Probably delirious with happiness. His forehead knit at the word "delirious." They would be so thrilled, they'd probably give him anything he wanted. Slowly, his eyes began to shine. They might even be willing to make a deal. A plan unfolded in his mind that could potentially make things much easier for him in Tokyo.

"Mom!" He yelled, standing up straight and pushing the computer chair out his way. "Hey, Mom!"

He found her at the front desk, bowing to a guest who was checking out. As soon as the door shut behind the businessman and his luggage, she turned to her son with concern. "What is it, sweetie? Are you alright?"

Panting from having run across the resort, he leaned all of his weight onto the polished check in counter and looked up at his mother with his patented "sweet but troubled" expression. Instantly all of her motherly instincts went into overdrive and she placed her cool hand against his sweaty forehead, brushing the damp strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Darling, tell me what's wrong," she cooed.

He widened his eyes and tried to muster some tears. "Oh, Mom, you just have to help me."

Mrs. Fuwa's heart ached at the tone of his voice and she could feel herself gearing up for combat. Whatever or whoever was hurting her child would be eliminated.

"My baby..." she began.

Sho turned theatrically away, sighing deeply as he took a step or two away from her. "You have to promise you won't hate me, Mom. Please promise."

Mrs. Fuwa nodded, reaching a hand out towards her precious son. "I could never ever hate you, Shotaro," she choked.

He swung around. "Then you have to help me, Mom. You have to give me permission to marry Kyoko."

Author's note: I'm taking artistic license with the male Japanese age of marriageability– the female age is sixteen with parental permission but the male age is eighteen. I'm taking a lot of license with this story. It's fun. I did spend three hours looking for a loophole, though.