Mogami Kyoko's thigh muscles screamed at her as she wobbled into the TBM station. She'd made the trip in record time, pushing harder every time an unwelcome thought crept into her head. As a result, she was nearly 20 minutes early for her next job, which unfortunately, she realized, gave her plenty of time to think.

What did I do? What did I do? WHAT DID I—

"Kyouko-chan?" She raised her head out of the cradle of her hands to see Ishbiashi Hikaru looking at her with no small amount of concern. "Are you all right?"

Quickly, she pasted a smile on her face and bowed her greeting—this was not something she could discuss with him, after all. She could barely stand to discuss it with herself. If some part of her noticed the surprised flush of pink in her coworker's cheeks, she ignored it.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a little tired, is all. I had a busy morning."

"Oh? What happened?" He asked.

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then, pushing aside the image that popped up in response to his question, she managed to keep her tone light as she said, "Oh, just a guest star on set. You know how it is."

"Actually, I don't really," he said with a teasing chuckle, "All I do is work with guests, remember?"

Kyoko crinkled her nose as she realized he was right. "Well, it can be tiring if you're not used to it, I guess," she said defensively. "And this guest was…he…" She couldn't bring herself to elaborate. "It was just a long day on set," she finished lamely.

"Is that why you're still…" he searched for a tactful way to say it, "Natsu-ish?" He avoided looking her in the eye and willed his face to show an expression of polite interest.

"What?" She asked, confused. "Oh!" Although her hair had been somewhat mussed by her trip there, thanks to surprisingly strong hair products, it had for the most part settled back into place in that elegant, sideswept style that Natsu favored. And since she couldn't risk being seen in Kyoko-form anywhere near the Box-R set, she hadn't yet taken off her makeup. Only her clothes were her usual fare. "Uh, yeah," she said. "I was in a hurry, so I didn't have time to go back to normal."

Hikaru looked at her oddly. "But you're really early," he pointed out.

"Right, well, after I left, someone offered me a ride," she explained. "So I guess I didn't need to rush so much after all, huh?" She offered up a sheepish laugh, hoping he'd let the matter drop.

"I guess," he said, smiling kindly. "Shall we head in?" He opened the door to the Bridge Rock studio. "After you."

"Thank you," Kyoko replied, relieved. And now, to work, she thought happily. It was exactly what she needed. If she could just focus on being Bou, she would be fine. She knew it.

It was a disaster. Being in a giant chicken suit was hot. And being the mascot meant there was a lot of waiting for her cue to go on, and very little actual acting. Even though she was on her feet the whole show, she'd fallen asleep three times. Each time, her dreams had gone back to the events of Saturday night. Only now…

She pulled away from the kiss, head fuzzy and mouth somewhat dry. By now they must be in double-digits, and he still wasn't satisfied. "Mogami-san, it needs to be more natural," he'd said. Whatever that meant. His criticisms got less and less specific as they went along, but she couldn't find the willpower to ask for clarification.

She looked up at him, waiting for the comment that was forthcoming. The eyes she met weren't the deep brown she was accustomed to, though, but a lighter gray color. Shotaro smirked at her, licking his lips. "That was better," he allowed, his gaze traveling the length of her body, his grin widening to wolfish proportions. "But…I think you need a little more practice." He draped an arm over one of her shoulders, put a possessive hand on her waist, and, lowering his face down to her level, huskily said, "I could teach you everything."

NO! She'd thought each time Shotaro invaded her dreams, and it was all she could do to stop herself screaming just that in the middle of the taping. As it was, she was absolutely drenched in sweat and had been told rather pointedly to take the costume to be cleaned.

Kyoko sighed as she trundled down the hallway with the deconstructed chicken suit in a cart. She found herself wishing for the return of the original dreams—at least those weren't nightmares. And at least they didn't keep bringing her mind back to that same question that looped in her mind over and over.

What did I do?

She wouldn't feel the slightest bit of shame about hitting Shotaro. Or about strangling him. Or about siccing her inner demons on him and watching him writhe in fear and pain. But this…this was shameful. I should have known better than to let Nacchan take over, she thought. The girl has no sense of propriety. And the things she thinks of…

But of course, Natsu only had those thoughts because of Kyoko. That was the problem, really. Kyoko felt as if her purity was being slowly leached away, turning her into somebody else. The kind of girl who thinks about kissing her sempai all day, who knows exactly how to toy with an annoying flirt, and who has inappropriate dreams at the drop of a hat… I'm becoming a pervert, she realized.

And it's all Shotaro's fault! She wailed inside her head.

If he hadn't forced his way onto her show, she'd never have had to ask Tsuruga-san for kissing lessons, and that man wouldn't be occupying her thoughts at every moment, waking or sleeping. And if he'd just recognized her off the bat, she wouldn't have to go such lengths to keep her identity hidden! With all the stress of preserving her anonymity, she'd had half a mind to just tell him and get it over with, but after that encounter…it would be humiliating.

She turned down that familiar hallway where she'd met Ren in her guise as Bou twice in the past and had to do a double-take. There was her sempai, in all his long-limbed glory, sitting in that very same spot. Luckily for her, he had his head in his hands, and she was able to back the cart around the corner before he had a chance to see her.

Kyoko was contemplating alternate routes to get to the laundry room—she really should delete this hallway from her repertoire, she knew—when the image of Ren, head bowed in despair, assaulted her mind's eye. She couldn't just leave him like that! He could need her help! Or, rather, the chicken's help.

Pulling the cart back to a safe distance from the hallway in case he came around the corner, she changed back into the sweat-scented costume as speedily as possible. It was a lengthy process, and she half-expected him to be gone by the time she got back. But no, there he was, just sitting there, a dark cloud hanging over him.

"Hell—" she started to say, then coughed, and this time pitched her voice lower to sound more masculine. "Hello, Tsuruga-kun," she said jovially.

Ren looked up at her, and two things registered: one, even with the less-than-perfect vision of a person in a giant mascot costume, she could see that he had concealer under his eyes—the skin was whiter even than it usually was—and two, she really wanted to kiss him. It was this weird, overwhelming desire that struck her all of a sudden, made even more ridiculous by the fact that, in her current form, she was both male and lipless.

And that, in a nutshell, was what bothered Kyoko so much in the aftermath of the kissing lessons. She'd enjoyed kissing Tsuruga Ren. She hadn't wanted to stop, and when they did, it had been completely without warning. There was no closure. She'd had the last kiss she'd probably ever get from the man she loved, and she hadn't known that it was her last. Maybe, she thought, if I just had one more…

But what was she thinking? The actress realized. If she loved him half as much as she thought she did, the last thing she should be thinking about when he looked exhausted is what she wanted. She shoved her selfish thoughts away and turned her attention back to the beleaguered actor.

To her rather unpleasant surprise, he was beaming at her.

"I hoped I'd run into you today," he said, smile devastatingly sparkly. "Please, sit with me."

Dubious, she obeyed. What was going on?

"I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?" Ren asked, the picture of consideration.

"Uh, no," she said. "I'm done for the day."

"Then, if you don't mind, could we talk for a bit?" He asked. "For some reason, I can speak openly with you, and I need some advice."

"Advice?" She echoed. "About what?"

"Love," he said simply.

A/N: That's all, folks! Sorry once again for the longer waiting period. And considering how wonderful you all were about reviewing—THANK YOU!—I can't even pretend to blame it on a lack of feedback. I've settled in a bit better where I am now, so with any luck I'll be able to hit it once a week, but I can't make any promises. Я надеюсь, что вам понравилась эта глава! J'espère que je vous ai fait sourire!

...adiós!