A/N: I really struggled with this one, and it's probably super OOC (even more so than the rest of this fic ha) so just bear that in mind. Editing was very hasty, so please mind any errors ^^
"Kyoko-"
Her heart dropped to her stomach, a chill of fear running down her spine. The warning his tone conveyed with just that one word sent alarm bells shrieking in her head, her hands already working quickly to untie her apron.
"-I need to t-"
"Tsuruga-san!" she practically yelled, interrupting him before he could let loose the rest of his traitorous words. "Excuse me! I completely forgot, I'm so sorry... Oka-kami-san asked me to help out at the Darumaya tonight, and if I d-don't leave no-"
He grabbed her wrist just as she reached for the door handle, using his body as a barricade to block her exit. If they weren't so high up, she might've jumped out the window, just for the chance to escape the very thing she'd been dreading for months.
"Kyoko, please."
A sharp and bitter pain stabbed into her heart, and she squeezed her eyes shut, ripping her hand free of his hold. She couldn't look at him, not when she knew how much sadness was written on his face. Without even seeing him she could tell, from the sound of his voice alone. She loved him too much to refuse him, but if he really loved her back, how could he subject her to something that would only hurt them both?
"No. No no no no. I can't. Ren, please, don't..."
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest, but she couldn't stop shaking. The familiar weight of his body was normally such a comfort, making her feel secure, but now it was oppressive, suffocating. She needed to get away, but when she tried to push him off, he just held tighter, bringing her in closer still.
Something wet dripped onto her hair, and she realized he was crying, his body trembling along with hers. She reached up, wiping his cheek with her thumb, and pulled him into a kiss, a desperate plea she was begging him to accept. He lifted his chin, gently pressing his lips to her forehead, and returned to standing, slowly releasing his arms and letting her go.
"I can't, Kyoko, even though I want to. I love you so much, I really do, but I have to do this, you know I do."
Her normally perfect posture was hunched over, hands covering her face as she sniffled back the tears. His heart was a strangling weight inside him, too heavy to lift; the ache exquisite and overwhelming all his senses. He wanted to do what she was asking so badly it tore him apart, but he couldn't, and not just because of the president's threat. The lie was eating him up, his mind wracked with guilt, and this was the push he needed to finally tell her the truth. All he hoped for now was that she wouldn't hate him, but he deserved every bit of her scorn if she did.
"I know," she sobbed, tucking her head into her shoulder as she hugged herself. "I know."
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he whispered, wrapping her back up in his arms.
How could the risk of them breaking apart be so great, when their love for each other was so strong? He had no one to blame but himself of course, but that didn't make it any easier. How was it possible for her to love him when he was such a despicable, broken creature, and when he was as fault for the rift that had grown between them? He was inches away from breaking down, but he had hold himself together; had to get through this, no matter how difficult it was to form the words.
It wasn't fair, and she wanted to run away; to run from him, but she couldn't. It would've been too selfish, no matter how terrified she was of what was coming. She owed it to him now, after all the lies, to listen. Even if she was unable to do anything else, she could still do that for him. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he made it sound; maybe...
"As you know," he began, taking a deep, shuddering breath, "Tsuruga Ren isn't my real name."
She nodded, forcing herself to meet his hard, watery eyes, as the knots in her stomach turned to nausea, and she felt herself growing cold.
"My name..." he trailed off, clearing his throat and steeling himself to prepare for relieving the monumental burden that was this final truth. "My real name is Kuon, Hizuri Kuon."
She became dizzy, her head spinning. What was he saying, he was father's son?
"You're father's son?"
"Yes," he admitted.
"But father said..." he put a hand up, halting her.
"It's a long story, and I promise I'll explain it all, but there's still something else I have to tell you first."
She shut her eyes tightly, exhaling slowly through her nose, and sucked her lips into her mouth, biting down on them in an attempt to relieve some of the tension.
"...okay," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
He closed his eyes, taking what he hoped was a calming breath, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words for what he needed to say.
"Kyoko, I…" he sighed, wringing his hands, his jaw too tightly clenched to speak through.
Her head was swimming, confused but also surprised. Why would he fear this admission, knowing how much she loved father? It didn't make sense that she'd be upset about it, or that it could endanger their relationship, but he'd said that wasn't all of it. What could he possibly be hiding that would relate to being Hizuri Kuon? Icy fear clawed its way up her spine as the anticipation grew, heavy dread filling her insides.
"When I was ten," he began, his chest tightening as he tried to relax his jaw, "my family traveled to Kyoto."
Why was he telling her this?
"I got bored and decided to explore the forest near the ryokan where we were staying."
She felt dizzy, like she was going to throw up, some terrifying truth at the edge of her thoughts, something she knew but was unable to piece together. What he was saying, it didn't make sense.
"There was a little girl, crying alone in a clearing, and she thought I was a fairy prince."
"What are you saying?" she bleated, her eyes frozen open; legs suddenly feeling unsteady beneath her.
"Kyoko, I… I'm Corn."
His hands were shaking, his voice so weak that he could barely speak the last and most important syllable.
She couldn't move; couldn't even blink. It felt as though the air had all been sucked out of the room, and her body had grown stiff as numbness overtook her mind. Was she going crazy? It didn't… he couldn't… everything was too much.
He took a step forward, a tentative hand reaching for her, but she slapped it away. It was the first time she moved since he'd said the words, her eyes staring but unseeing, and her face an expressionless mask. Somehow it was scarier to see her reacting like this, than if she was yelling and cursing him out. He never seemed to know where he stood with her, but now, the stakes were so much higher, and all his cards were on the table, laid out before her.
The breaths came in and out slow and shallow, her brain somehow incapable of doing anything other than breathing. Her thoughts had all drifted away to some other place, too far away for her to grasp hold of. The kitchen, she thought, I was making dinner for Ren. Her hands instinctively tied the apron, her body operating on autopilot as she walked from the room and began washing the vegetables.
The air in his lungs felt strangled, his fear becoming a physical thing as he watched her robotically move about the kitchen, preparing food. She hadn't said a word, or even looked at him, and he didn't know what he he should do. How would she react if he interrupted her? He was afraid to so much as make a single noise, knowing that at any moment she could snap out of her trance and decide to leave his life forever.
She heard him, she must have, and eventually the words would sink in. He'd give her all the time she needed to process this, he owed her that much at least. Still, watching her familiar actions was agony, the once comforting sight now only served to draw out his misery, as he waited for everything to unravel. Whether it was better or worse than having the bandaid ripped off quickly, he didn't know, but he held his breath and allowed the miniscule relief to comfort him, knowing that he was more than likely going to need it.
The vegetables were rinsed and chopped and the broth had been prepared, but she stood in front of the refrigerator, with the door open, just staring. What was she looking for? She couldn't remember now. There was something important, she knew, but the memory of it escaped her. Something felt wrong, alien, but the knowledge was distant, abstract, and inexplicably repellant, as though it carried a sense of warning. It was better to ignore it, so she did, scanning the shelves in an attempt to locate the necessary ingredient.
After she'd set the table, she just stared, unmoving, and it broke his heart. He couldn't take it any longer, and had to do something. This, he ultimately decided, had to be worse. Seeing her like this was something he could not bear.
"Kyoko…"
He waited, hoping that some indication of life would flicker back into her dull eyes.
"Kyoko, please-"
"I don't understand," she breathed, her tone full of accusation, "why are you doing this?"
"It was wrong to keep it from you, I know that, but I couldn't tell you. Things were different then, and the longer I waited, the harder it wa-"
"Stop, just stop! I can't listen to this. I feel like - like I'm going," she being to pant, hyperventilating, he suspected, "crazy. I can't - can't breathe."
She hunched over, a hand clutching her chest as her ribcage heaved violently up and down. He wanted to hold her; to offer her comfort, but he was so afraid of her rejection, and he didn't want to make the situation even worse.
"You can't," she wheezed, "you can't be him."
He grabbed the contact case from his pocket and removed the brown lenses, revealing the green eyes she recognized as belonging to Corn. As overwrought as she was, he decided a full reveal would be imprudent, so he kept his wig on.
"He's a fairy!" she yelled, the bitter knife of betrayal's guilt twisting in his heart.
"I never wanted to deceive you."
"But he has magic, he flew, and my corn stone, he…"
"Kyoko, I'm so sorry."
"No. No, you're lying! I can't do this, I can't be here."
She ran from him, flinging open the door and racing into the hall, stilling wearing her apron and slippers. It was clear she needed space, but in this state, he didn't know if she was safe. He cursed himself his stupidity and cowardice, and the ease with which he was able to lie, especially to her. If he'd been clumsier, or if he'd… but it didn't matter now. He had made a royal mess of everything, and now that it was falling down around him, he had no choice but to pick up whatever pieces were left unbroken when the dust finally settled.
She didn't know where she was going, but just that she had to go; to keep moving, as far as her legs would take her. The air was cold against the bare skin of her arms, biting her flesh as she ran headlong into the wind, but the feeling was as dead to her as the dream she lived only yesterday. There was too much of everything - too many thoughts, too much noise, and too many things all around her. She needed to escape, but there was nowhere to go; no safe harbor in the city of concrete and steel.
She thought of the solace of the forest, but any relief she might've felt was curtailed by the desecration of her most precious memories. There was magic; she had felt it, but now he was saying it was all a lie. She couldn't get her brain to accept this new information, not when it was fundamentally incongruous with what she already knew and had seen. In a way, the cold was comforting to the part of her mind that registered awareness of it, something grounding in a sea of chaos; her mind pulled in too many directions at once.
How far she'd gone or where she was were immaterial, so long as she went away. If she could've traveled to a different world right then, she'd have done it, and she probably wouldn't have come back.
"What are you doing here, and what are you wearing?"
She was wrong, things could get worse. Whether hearing his voice at this moment was better or worse than her imposter-fairy-boyfriend-hero-liar-betrayer-playboy, she didn't know. Whatever he wanted, she was definitely not in the mood to deal with anything else, not right now.
"Hey, shit, are… are you okay?"
The concerned tone pelted against her like a dagger, stabbing into old and fresh wounds until anger coiled tightly in her limbs and she stiffened. Her eyes grew hard, her hands balling into fists, and she swung, her knuckles thudding dully into the flesh of his cheek, as he tried to reach out for her.
"What the fuck, Kyoko! What's your problem?"
"Get. Away. From me."
"This is that pretty boy's fault, isn't it? What's he done now? Why else would you be walking around without a coat; in slippers?"
She launched herself at him, and they tumbled to the ground, his arms wrapping tightly around her, effectively halted her assault. As she struggled, he squeezed tighter, until she was pinned against his chest. The realization was uncomfortable, and she felt a desperate need to escape, but he refused to let go. Stupid Shoutaro! I will kill you for this! Rage welled up inside her, releasing her grudges in a furious wave, as strong arms pulled her away from her captor.
It was too difficult to keep resisting, and reluctantly she gave in, letting his arms enfold her, until the rest of the world began to disappear. Her need to escape him was eclipsed by the warmth and familiarity he provided. Even if the comfort was corrupted, there was little choice but to accept the the specious offering of reassurance, in a world where everything had ceased to make sense. What any of this meant, she didn't know or care, and she couldn't think of anything beyond this moment, or even of the person whose arms protected her like a poisoned shield.
She was shaking, but whether it was because of the cold, he didn't know. All that mattered was that he get her somewhere warm, and away from Fuwa. He almost had to laugh at that, the absurdity of her running into him; always at the least convenient times. If he could do those two things, then he'd worry about everything else later, and if accomplishing those things meant laying his adversary out on the pavement, then he was only too happy to oblige.
A/N: Phew! Anyway, well FINALLY. Better late than never, I guess? I do apologize for the lengthy wait. This was definitely the hardest chapter for me to write because everything felt too out of character in my head. There will probably only be one or two chapters left, and then a silly bonus chapter I have planned, at some point.
