"Yashiro–san!" Kyoko was practically wailing, clutching the pieces of her phone. Tsuruga Ren's manager was apologizing profusely, explaining that he forgot to wear his latex gloves.
They were at the train station, and Mogami Kyoko was supposed to be getting on the next bullet train out of Tokyo. Her escort, Yukihito Yashiro, had held her bag and phone for only a few seconds while she searched for her electronic pass card. The next thing either of them had known, the cell phone had fallen apart, sparking and fizzing.
Kyoko crouched there, staring up at him with teary eyes. "That had everyone's contact info in it. Yashiro–san, how could you?" She started bawling again.
Yashiro tried to make her get up. "Mogami–san, I'm sure it's okay!" he said, feeling extremely guilty, "We'll just ask the president to give you a new one! I bet he could get the numbers into it by the time you return from your next job!"
Kyoko wiped her eyes and bowed to Yashiro, tears stopping abruptly. "Thank you so much, Yashiro–san! If you need to contact me during the next shoot, just ask the president for the director's number. I'm sure he'll have it!"
Yashiro nodded and waved goodbye as she stepped onto the train and the doors closed.
"My fault?" Kyoko said quietly, her face black with anger. "It's my fault we're here?"
Mogami Kyoko and Fuwa Sho stood on a station platform in a small town north of Tokyo.
Unfortunately, they had happened to be in the same studio for their shoots, and the directors had agreed that they should catch the same ride back to Tokyo. Then they had missed the last bullet train because Sho hadn't followed the directions correctly. Kyoko was extremely close to beating the tar out of her enemy, and there was no Tsuruga–san to hold her back.
Sho crossed his arms. "If you hadn't insisted on asking for directions, we could be on the train back to Tokyo by now."
Twitching, Kyoko turned her back on Sho and stalked off the platform. She carried only her light backpack, whereas he carried three suitcases and a laptop.
"Hey, where are you going?" He called after her, struggling to follow with his luggage.
She turned back to him, eyes narrowed. "That was the last train of the day – it says so over there." She pointed towards the multicolored sign proclaiming the train schedule. "I'm going to see if I can stay at an inn or a hotel." She continued walking.
He frowned, reaching out to her. "Wait up!"
Kyoko didn't bother to turn around and acknowledge him. "Why should I?" She called, hands in her jacket pockets. It was the end of winter, and still cold outside, especially since the sun had just set.
He caught up with her just outside the town's inn, and they walked in silently.
"Hello!" The inn hostess smiled from her seat behind a counter. "Welcome to our inn."
Sho dumped the baggage on Kyoko and walked forward. "We'll have two rooms. I want the better one; she can have the other." He jabbed a thumb backwards in indication.
Kyoko shoved his suitcases off and turned red with fury. She advanced on Sho, intending to beat him up at last. "Why you–!"
"Excuse me," the hostess cut in politely, "but we only have one room available right now."
The two Kyoto natives turned to look at this woman, deadpanning.
Kyoko's face was determined. "There's no way I'll sleep in the same room as that mor–"
Sho picked her up and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold, effectively cutting her off. "We'll take it."
"Put me down!" Kyoko struggled, but his grip around her waist only tightened. "Idiot!" she snapped, trying to get him from her awkward position, "There's no way I'll stay in the same room as a bastard like you!"
The train sped towards Tokyo, carrying Mogami Kyoko and Bastard #1.
Sho had his headphones in, and Kyoko was fantasizing about a castle in the snow when Kyoko remembered that she should call Tsuruga–san. She looked at her traveling companion and realized that he couldn't hear her; sighing, she quickly picked up his cell phone and started dialing.
It rang for a few seconds, in which time Sho opened his eyes and shut off his mp3 player, curious as to whom she was calling from the train.
Hello?
She smiled at the sound of her sempai's voice.
"It's Mogami–san."
How are you? I've missed hearing from you.
She giggled, and Sho stiffened. Who was she talking to?
"Me too. I can't wait to get back and see you."
I heard what happened with Yashiro–san at the train station.
There was a pause. By the way, the president wants to talk to you about your new phone. Where are you calling from, anyway?
Kyoko froze, sweatdropping. "Um, I'm calling from that Bastard's phone."
There was silence on the other end for a moment. Are you traveling with him?
Mogami nodded, then remembered she was on the phone and said, "Unfortunately, yes. The director of my last shoot got us train tickets together." Outwardly, she rolled her eyes while, mentally, she was choking the director who had invaded her life.
"I can't believe he did it! I mean, first the Bastard made us miss the train back yesterday, then he made me sleep in the same hotel room with him!" Her face went red, then white at his next words.
So did you?
She hung her head in shame. "Yeah. It was either that or freeze. And he let me have the bed."
Tsuruga Ren was quiet, but Kyoko's demons could sense his anger like a beacon. She recoiled slightly from the phone.
I'll see you when you get back. The phone hung up with a click, leaving Kyoko ready to cry.
"So what did he want?"
Kyoko had momentarily forgotten about her companion and turned a furious shade of purple when she realized Sho had heard her talking to Tsuruga Ren.
"Um, nothing. I called him." She quickly deleted Ren's number from the Bastard's phone. She handed it back to him and turned back to the window, determined to come up with an apology for Tsuruga–san.
"So you know his number by heart? Could it be that you've turned from an obsessive 'Fuwa Sho' fan into a 'Tsuruga Ren' worshipper?" He laughed at her and she flicked the side of his head. "Ouch!" He rubbed the sore spot and returned her glare.
"You made Tsuruga–san mad at me," she said furiously, "He's very important to me, and I hate it when he's angry with me! So just shut up, bastard!"
They rode the rest of the way in silence as Sho mulled over the possible meanings to her words.
It had been cold that night, and Sho wasn't sure why he couldn't sleep. His head was pounding with lyrics, but that was normal. The bed was perfect, the pillows fluffy and the covers warm. He even had up the newspaper articles detailing his rise to stardom pinned up next to his bed. The world seemed like it wanted him to be excrutiatingly happy.
He and Kyoko had only been in Tokyo a few months, yet he had decided he would never go back to his humdrum life.
But somewhere under all the distractions his busy mind offered, he knew that what kept him awake was the girl ebony haired girl in the room across the hall. She'd tried calling her mother several days earlier, and since then she hadn't been sleeping well. Kyoko had no idea why she woke up tired, eyes sore and limbs aching. But Sho knew. And he was getting pretty agrivated with her crying in her sleep. Even if he couldn't always hear her, he felt annoyingly guilty about it, as though it was all his fault.
He slipped out from under his covers, stretching the fatigue out of his limbs. He padded across the room, careful not to stub his toes in the dark. He was never sure how to stop her tears; her pain was something completely alien to him. But he knew she felt safe when he was around.
It was much to his surprise that he didn't find her asleep. She was sitting there, knees drawn to her chest, staring at a picture that had been taken of Sho's parents. "Hey," he called, knocking lightly on her door. She sat up with a start, golden eyes just slightly too bright.
Sighing, he motioned for her get up. "You'll never sleep if you go on like this," he muttered, irritated at his own softness. "Come on." He walked out of her doorway, knowing she would follow, as she always did.
He wasn't wrong. Soon she was sleeping deeply under his covers, eyes still darkened from crying. His pale arms were wrapped around her, pulling her torso close to his. She shifted under his grip, moving closer in her subconscious. Sho didn't really mind, but it was that feeling, of holding her close, of protecting her from everything...
"Kyoko," Sho muttered, waking up. He moved to pull her closer and realized with a sickening sensation that she wasn't there. He sat straight up, looking around wildly.
He wasn't back in their old apartment. He was in the new one rented for him by his agency, where his manager was a phone call away at any time.
He slumped back onto his pillows, hands folded behind his head. Why was I dreaming about that? he wondered, staring at the plain ceiling. He rolled out of bed, contriving to put on a shirt before breakfast, and watched the sun rise from his balcony.
"Kyoko," he muttered, sipping the hot tea to chase away the slightest chill that had entered his system since his all–too–realistic dream.