*slinks back in* ...Hi. I'm still alive. And no, I've not given up on this fanfic. I just… school and asthma. Yeah… thanks for checking in on me and having patience, luvlies! :D
Thank you as always to A-sempai and S-sempai for helping me with this (and through a whole lot of chaos that made it hard to write)! I lofe you both.
I don't own anything except Plagioclase (whose porpoise - er, purpose - is finally revealed). Enjoy~!
Plagioclase awoke to a variety of rustling noises; the human in whose apartment he was currently dwelling was preparing for the day. A smile slipped across the whale's face as his eyelids flicked open; the day, he knew, would end in happiness. Before then, however… he sensed that trouble was brewing. Where, he did not yet know - he only knew that it was, and that it was unrelated to the happiness to come. He furrowed his whale equivalent of a brow, increasing the range of his sensor. Something… something was brewing in a human's heart, something that had been brewing for quite some time. He could not yet tell where she was, however; the signal was weak, due no doubt to the fact that the girl in question was asleep. With a sigh, the whale of love floated out to the kitchen, where the human was trying to talk himself into eating some toast.
The man in question had slept as well as could be expected of someone who had just had a seemingly impossible possibility dropped into his lap without warning - which is to say that he slept, however briefly, amid bizarre dreams of mixed-up messages. The song which was currently on repeat in his mind had floated through the dreams, inevitably circling back to her.
Speaking of her, he ought to eat something soon. His interview started in an hour; if he wasn't at the top of his game, everything could go horribly wrong. Hence, his grim determination to eat toast. The main flaw in his plan was his lack of toaster - or, at least, the lack of knowledge of his toaster's location, as he did indeed own one. It was only with much harried searching that he finally unearthed the appliance - and then underwent a similar search for bread. From his vantage point atop the hidden loaf, Plagioclase watched the man's actions with some level of amusement; however, as Plagioclase is Plagioclase and therefore loves all, he did not judge the actor's inability to keep track of his kitchen, instead choosing to knock said bread onto the floor. It was with no little relief that Kuon finally popped two slices of bread into his toaster - and with considerably less relief that he ate the slices a few minutes later.
Plagioclase watched, amused, as the human picked up his bag and squared his shoulders, putting up his usual front before stepping out his front door - the same front that shattered whenever she was involved. The whale might have been tempted to follow the man's journeys that day had he not received a sudden, strong signal. With a swish of his tail, he set out into the world. Someone was in need of him.
~~~~~~~~LINE~~~~~~~~~
Ren hitched his professional smile into place and pushed open the door to the room in which the interview was to occur. He considered it lucky that this particular test was not to be broadcast live; if necessary, he could ask to not have specific sentences shown. Yes, he could ask - not that it would really do much, if he slipped up badly enough. He could only hope that he would keep his head and not endanger any of the secrets which he fought to keep.
"G-Good morning, Tsuruga-san!" His interviewer was new to the business, a rare treat. Perhaps his luck would be good today - Plagioclase only knew how much he'd need - if his interviewer was new, then she would be less likely to entrap him with words, as veterans of the business were wont to do. The girl in question was a slip of a thing, about Kyoko's build, perhaps a few years older and a touch more fashion-conscious than she; dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. She dipped a small, awkward bow.
"Good morning, Kita-san." He smiled, sparkles bouncing off of the poor girl's face, and shot Yashiro a grateful glance for finding out the girl's name ahead of time. "How are you doing this fine day?"
"Quite well, thank you." She beamed at him. "Although I must confess to a bit of nervousness, interviewing a big-name celebrity such as yourself!"
He chucked. "Now, no need - I'm sure you'll get used to it quickly. Besides, I'm not all that; I'm just another human being."
A disbelieving smile slipped across her face at this remark, but she let it pass. "Shall we move over towards the seats and begin the interview?"
"Of course." The set was a simple one, consisting of two cushy purple chairs with an end table between them; said end table bore two glasses and a pitcher of liquid. Let it be a note of Kyoko's influence that Ren wondered for a moment if the clear liquid was not water but instead some potion - a Veritaserum of sorts. A quick shake expelled the thought from his mind; after all, this was the wrong type of story for such things. He settled into one of the plush chairs with good grace as Kita signalled for the interview to begin.
"Hello, and welcome to Michigaya Noriba! Today we have our long-awaited interview with none other than… the great Tsuruga Ren!" Kita made a sweeping motion with her hand to indicate the man in question, narrowly missing the water pitcher as she did so. "Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to be here with us today, Tsuruga-san."
"It's my pleasure. And please, 'Ren' is fine." The words came to him easily; how many hundreds of times had he said them, now?
"Why, thank you, Ren-san! Then please call me Mari." She looked appropriately flustered, as they all had.
An ordinary interview, eh? "Of course, Mari-san."
She gave a little trill of pleasure. "And speaking of names - as an actor, you answer to many different ones! Do you have a favorite?"
"A favorite character, you mean?" She talks a little backwards, like someone else I know. At her nod, he continued, "As of right now, I'd still have to say Katsuki."
"Dark Moon's Katsuki?"
"Yes. As both my first dark and my first heavily romantic role, it challenged me. I was forced to reach deeper into myself than I had previously."
"How admirable!" Mari exclaimed, pouring them each a glass of water; Ren accepted his with thanks and a smile. "But I must admit, I - along with a good portion of your fanbase - have a slightly different image of you."
"Oh?" he prompted, taking a sip of his water.
"Yes," she said with a slight giggle. "Most people perceive you as a gentleman, an image of light… a prince, even."
Ren managed not to choke on his water. "I'm honored."
"You needn't be, really," she smiled. "It's just a natural observation we've made. And given the recent evidence… well, it only seems right, doesn't it?"
"I'm afraid that I don't quite understand what you mean," he returned, the sparkles from his smile starting to pool on the floor of the set.
"You needn't be shy, Ren-san! We all think it's quite fitting. You make a very dashing prince."
The sparkles covered his shoes. "Thank you."
"But there is one thing that we've all been wondering, Ren-san." She leaned forward slightly, an eyebrow quirked, her tone conspiratorial.
"Oh? And that would be?" A mouse - had one existed in the interview area - could drown in the sparkles pooling at his feet.
"At the end of the fairy tale, a prince has a princess… who is yours?" If this were the animal kingdom, she would have pounced; as it was, she simply smiled at him, waiting.
"I'm afraid that I don't understand your question," he replied, his cheeks aching from the force of his smile. "Were we not talking about my previous works?"
"In a way, yes." She took a sip of her water, a smile playing about her lips. "It must have taken a lot of work to put together such an elaborate display."
"And by display, you mean…" He mirrored her action, wary of her words. This could go bad very quickly, or very well in an equally short space of time.
"Oh, Ren-san," she smiled, shaking her head, "is a word game really necessary? After all, the pictures are all over the news. You make a dashing prince - all we'd like to know is: Who is your princess?"
"Do you mean the girl who accompanied me that day?" Carefully, now… can't claim her as my own, not yet...
"Yes. Who is she?"
"She is someone very special to a lot of people." Including me.
"And does this special someone have a name?"
"She does." He nodded, but did not elaborate further.
"And may we have the pleasure of knowing her name?"
"Not unless she decides she'd like it to be released." A prim answer, but one with a bit of an edge to it. His tone implied that no further inquiries were to be made after the identity of his princess, so Mari switched to a different portion of the topic.
"How princely of you, to protect your damsel." She tilted her head to one side and continued, "In fact, the whole occurrence seems incredibly romantic. Can you really blame us for wondering who your special someone is, to inspire you to do something straight out of a fairy tale?"
"I suppose not," he chuckled. "But I must correct you in your thinking that I can claim her as my own. As I said, she's very special to a lot of people."
"Including you, from the looks of it. What inspired you to do something so extravagant?"
"I…" He cleared his throat and took a sip of water before fully answering. "It was a bit of an experiment, actually."
Mari blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Well…" He took another sip of his water, buying himself more time to think. "Part of it was a test to see how the media would react - in retrospect, of course. The president often berates me for being so boring, so I figured that I ought to make someone happy while diverting his attention for a short while. And she does love fairy tales, after all."
"An experiment to assuage the president and test the media? That sounds a bit too convenient, Ren-san," giggled Mari. "Are you sure it wasn't entirely for the sake of your princess?"
"I am positive that it wasn't just for her sake." That date did wonders for me as well. His smile slipped a bit as bits of memory flashed through his mind, images of her making his sincere smile appear. Mari, who had been reaching for her water glass, knocked it over.
"Oh!" She yelped as it spread across the small end table and began dripping into the still-present pool of sparkles which Ren had previously spawned. "Oh, no -"
"Here," he soothed, pulling a handkerchief out of his sleeve and wiping up the (fortunately small) mess. "It's just water; it'll dry."
"Th-Thank you, Ren-san. I'm so sorry." She shook her head as if to clear it. "You really are a prince charming - a knight in shining armor come to save a damsel in distress!"
"I'm not sure if mopping up a bit of spilled water is worthy of knighthood, but thank you nonetheless." Even more sparkles fell to the ground, covering the damp spot on the carpet.
"W-Well, thank you regardless." Mari sighed, realizing that she'd been diverted by her own clumsiness, and began her attempts to sail the conversation back into interesting waters. "You mentioned an experiment?"
"Did I?" Ren inquired, injecting detached amusement into his voice.
"You said - before I made an awful mess - that your day out with your princess was an experiment. What inspired it?"
"What led me to conduct such an experiment, you mean?" At Mari's nod, Ren continued, "Curiosity - and maybe a bit of hope."
"Would you care to elaborate, Ren-san?" she inquired, voice sugary.
No. "It worked out rather well, actually. My friend needed a bit of cheering up, and I needed a partner in crime - and I must say that we succeeded on both accounts." A grin began creeping across his face. "Although I must admit that I didn't expect the reaction to be quite this huge." At Mari's look of blatant disbelief, he chuckled. "No, really! I'm afraid that I didn't give too much thought to the scope of the reaction. A bit of an oversight on my part, really, as it could hurt her if this gets out of hand."
"How do you mean?" The interviewer began pouring herself another glass of water, but then thought better of it.
"While I'm sure that my lovely fans," he sparkled at the camera, "wouldn't dream of doing anything violent, there are some unsavory characters who might desire to keep my friend away from me. It's very fortunate that she's something of a chameleon - or a fairy, depending on how you want to put it."
"A chameleon?" As her mouth formed the question, a song by Culture Club popped into Ren's protesting mind.
"Or a fairy," he nodded, banishing the song, "as she's something of a shape-shifter as part of her line of work."
"Have you worked with her before, then?"
"If you're inquiring about whether or not she's been my co-star, she has not."
"But she is in entertainment?"
"I never said that," he replied, taking a sip of water.
"But you've worked with her before," Mari pointed out, glee barely hidden in her eyes. "You sidestepped my question, Ren-san."
"I would prefer not to answer questions about her for her sake. She does not wish for her identity to be revealed at this time, and I intend to respect that." He leaned forward; the sparkles were now rising at an alarming rate, almost reaching the cushions of the chairs. "I ask that everyone else do the same."
"I - yes," Mari gulped, taken by surprise; the man's eyes held none of his smile's warmth as they bore into her own. "Of course. I understand how that could cause problems for her. Perhaps later?"
Ren leaned back and took another sip of his water. "Thank you for understanding."
"Of course!" She gave a little trill of laughter. "After all, a prince must protect his princess at all costs!" Off-camera, a hand signalled that the time to finish was drawing near. "Thank you for joining us today, Ren-san."
"It was my pleasure, Mari-san." They stood and exchanged bows; Ren flashed one last dazzling smile at the camera. "Thank you all for listening."
"Good luck with your fairy tales, dear viewers!" Mari called, then signalled to shut off the camera. Once they had stepped off of the set, she turned back to Ren. "And with yours, Ren-san."
Ren brushed a stray sparkle off of his shoulder. "To you as well, Mari-san. Good day." With a final bow, he made his way over to his manager.
"Really? An experiment?" Yashiro hissed once they had left the studio.
"In a way," Ren shrugged, but did not elaborate. After all, it wasn't a lie - he'd wanted to see how Kyoko would react to a day with him, to a fairy tale come to life, to his barely veiled affections… and he had to admit that he was rather pleased with the results.
~~~~LINE~~~~
The fairy-chameleon in question was pedalling along one of the sidewalks in Tokyo to a one-off job. Her school's break had coincided with a period of increased work for her, an occurrence for which she was thankful, as it meant that she would miss fewer lessons. This happenstance also allowed her to attend her evening acting lessons, as her current schedule allowed for more work during the day. Recently, they'd been practicing how to best portray romance - which was, of course, messing with Kyoko's head like none other. She'd tried her best to act like a girl in love, but had been told that her efforts seemed forced. Only when she'd let her mind wander for a few moments - a few dark, dangerous moments filled with carousels and potato pancakes - had her sensei approved. Her protests that she had not been doing anything had fallen on deaf ears, leaving her highly frustrated.
Thus, it was with some distraction that she swerved around a bench and came to a halt in front of the studio in which she was to be today. After locking up her bike - it wouldn't do for it to get stolen, especially not so soon after the tires were replaced - she squared her shoulders, shook thoughts of such things from her mind, and headed into the building. She might have a brewing - her grudges shuddered at the mere thought - romance, but that didn't mean that she was incapable of functioning. Love-struck thoughts could wait until after she'd gotten her work done; after all, romance or not, she was professional.
~~~~LINE~~~~
Some time later, Ren was making a detour that had distinctly more to do with romance than professionalism. No, he was not skiving off work; one could even argue that this detour had quite a bit to do with work, as it served a dual purpose, one of these being lunch. He was not overly concerned with lunch at the moment, however; to him, the meal's sole use on this day was to serve as an excuse. As he parked his car, he wondered for a moment what he would do if there were no open counter seats, but dismissed this worry with a shake of his head; his grandfather had always said not to borrow trouble. These words were proven wise upon the actor's and his manager's entrance into the restaurant; the counter had three open spots.
"Welcome - oh, hello, again!" Okami-san smiled at Ren, having recognized him as her daughter's date. "Kyoko-chan's at work right now, if you're looking for her. Or are you here for lunch?"
"Good afternoon. And lunch today, please, at the counter if you could." Ren willfully ignored Yashiro's grin at the okami-san's words. His manager was far too invested in the relationship for his own good.
Okami-san, for her part, shared a very knowing smile with the man's manager. "Of course. My husband should have a few minutes between customers, if you'd like to chat with him a bit."
"Thank you." A thought struck him. "If you have a free moment, I'd like to speak to you as well."
"I'll see what I can do," she smiled, leading the pair of men to the counter. "What would you two like to drink?"
"Just water for me, please."
"Same here," chimed in Yashiro, adjusting his glasses. "Work day, after all."
Okami-san gave an approving nod before disappearing behind the curtain leading to the kitchen proper. Yashiro took that moment as an opportunity to cast a gleeful look at his charge. "Nice choice of restaurant, by the way," he snickered, elbowing Ren.
This statement was not dignified with a response, as Ren chose instead to pick up the menu and scan for light fare. After much deliberation, he decided upon what appeared to be a sandwich-like beastie. To his right, Yashiro was making deliberating noises; the man never had been good at choosing a meal quickly. Eventually, though, he set down his menu with a soft thup. "Ready?"
"No." Ren heaved a sigh, then realized what he'd said and corrected himself, indicating the symbols on the menu. "I mean, yes. I've decided."
"Ooh, that looks good. I'm getting this," he chattered, indicating a noodle dish, rather unaware of his charge's budding panic. "This is where Kyoko-chan boards, right? It has a good atmosphere."
Before the panicked actor could reply, taisho appeared in front of them, behind the counter. "Orders?"
Both of the younger men placed their orders; taisho squinted at Ren for a moment, recognizing him as the man who had taken his almost-daughter on a date, before nodding and excusing himself to go cook. The actor let out a great breath when the knife-wielding man disappeared once more behind the curtains. Yashiro, wisely, made no comment. Scarcely fifteen minutes later, taisho reappeared at the counter with their orders. They thanked him and - still under his watchful eye - began eating, Ren with a certain amount of effort, as he had actually eaten breakfast that morning. It was only when other orders had to be attended to that the man returned to his kitchen domain. Within the space of ten minutes, however, he returned; his bearing told Ren that his time had come. Yashiro, now sensing that something of importance was to occur, busied himself with his food.
"Sir," Ren attempted to begin, only to have the elder man hold up a hand (and knife) to silence him.
"What are your intentions towards my daughter?"
"I -" Kyoko would be thrilled to be referred to like that, his traitorous brain mentioned. "I, ah…" Line, please?
"Do you intend to marry her?"
(Yashiro quietly choked into his drink.)
Ren paused for a moment at this, not to ponder the truth of his answer, but to wonder how best to phrase it. "Eventually, if she'll have me - and with your permission, as well."
(Yashiro performed a wonderful spit-take into his glass, which was fortunate; otherwise, there would have been a large, watery mess to be cleaned.)
"And what if my wife and I say no?" The knife in the man's hand glinted in the sunlight streaming through a window.
For the love of all things holy, pull yourself together. You've faced bigger knives… more murderous faces… why should this one in particular make you sweat through your collar? "In that case, I… I would still inquire of Kyoko, as she is her own person."
"And if she says no?" The knife in the man's hand twisted slightly, angled towards the suitor. "What if she refuses your advances? What then?"
(Yashiro's inner shipper gave an anguished cry at the thought.)
"Then I will…" Ren paused to clear his throat; the very idea of it, one not unfamiliar to him, had brought out a scratchiness in his throat. "I will respect her wishes." And withdraw into myself, to serve only as her sempai once more - if she'll still come anywhere near me. If I'm allowed even that much of an honor.
The man squinted at him for a moment longer, then gave a short grunt and turned away. "Remember to talk to my wife on your way out."
"Yes, sir. Thank you." Ren gave a small, seated bow, and continued eating - or at least he tried to; the barrage of question marks tossed his way by Yashiro made such a task difficult at best. "Did you want something?"
Yashiro lowered the question mark which he had been preparing to throw. "What exactly just happened there?"
"A conversation," the actor replied, fishing a stray piece of punctuation out of his sandwich wrap.
"I know that," the elder of the pair replied, waving a question mark threateningly at his charge. "But why did he just walk away?"
"I'm allowed, but on probation," mumbled Ren through a mouthful of sandwich.
"How can you tell?" Yashiro returned to his noodles; after all, they still had a schedule to keep.
"I don't have a knife through me right now."
"He could get in serious trouble for that, though."
"I assure you that a man that adept with a knife would find a way to make it look like an accident."
"Your fans would be very cut up about it," grinned Yashiro, unable to resist the cheap pun (it cost him only two of his question marks).
Ren did not dignify that with a response, instead choosing to finish his sandwich while wondering where the other man had procured the question marks in the first place. Yashiro, once more taking the hint, finished his noodles in silence. When they stood up to take their leave, however, a wild okami-san appeared suddenly in their path, a wide smile plastered across her face.
"You'll take good care of our Kyoko-chan." It was neither a question nor a statement; rather, it was a warning. It did not sound like one - from an outsider's perspective, the woman's voice was quite sweet and gentle - but it was one nonetheless, and Ren did not mistake this fact. Thus, the soft words and steely eyes sent a shiver down his spine; the woman before him, smiling and reaching up to pat his cheek but finding herself unable to reach that high, terrified him more than the knife-wielding man had. "She'll be nice and safe and happy with you."
"I-I'll do my best," he gulped, leaning down a bit so that she could pat him as she wished.
(Yashiro was suppressing his giggles at this sight.)
"I'll look forward to the wedding, then, Tsuru-chan," she smiled, and let go of his face. "Now shoo. I'm sure that Japan's top actor has important things to do."
He nodded and bowed, then took his leave with a guffawing Yashiro bobbing along in his wake.
~~~LINE~~~~
Plagioclase swam unceremoniously through the doors of LME; normally, he would have staged a grand entrance befitting his title of all-loving orca, but not today. Today, he was needed by one who had just suffered heartbreak of the most genuine kind - that kind which entails a wish of happiness for both parties combined with a blinding sense of betrayal. The small spectre-whale swam swiftly, for he knew that whoever was suffering so was alone in their pain - not alone in the sense that such a pain had never been felt by any other, but in the sense that whoever it was had no one capable of truly comforting them. Grief, in any stage, for whatever reason, cannot be dealt with lightly; it cannot be brushed aside by a few simple words, by a mere gesture of any sort. It can be only helped by time, by a comforting ear - it never truly abates, this grief, but it can be conquered. And to conquer it alone requires the greatest of strengths, a strength which no human being is truly capable of having in its entirety. Yes, they are capable of proving themselves through it in some ways, and in those ways they excel - but to have it in its entirety is beyond a single human being's capabilities. With others, with understanding, with time - then it may be achieved, especially with a large quantity of the last of these. Thus, Plagioclase swam with all haste, in order to lend what a spectral whale could to a hurting human being; his sensor led him around a corner and into a cleverly concealed room. Upon entering, he slowed to approach with caution.
The thundercloud of emotion roiling around the tiny human curled on the floor was visible to him, which was never a good sign. That, combined with the utter silence of the human - who, judging by hair, was female - sent shivers down Plagioclase's fins. A soft hum escaped his mouth as he floated closer, alerting the homo sapien to his presence; he made himself visible.
Maria jolted, dry-eyed, at the sight of the floating miniscule orca. "What…? Grandfather, is this another prank?"
Plagioclase floated closer, shaking his fins to indicate that this was not the case. "I am Plagioclase."
"Maria." Grandfather… this is your doing, isn't it? "Why are you here, Plagioclase-san?"
"I sensed your emotional turmoil and came to offer whatever comfort I can," the whale replied gravely, his deep voice reverberating slightly against the walls of the hidden room.
A laugh, almost genuine enough to not reveal itself as false, escaped Maria's lips; however, as Plagioclase is Plagioclase and therefore is an expert in both reading emotions and loving all, the attempted deception was not believed. "I don't understand."
"That's okay. I still love you." The slightly Greek tone of his accent came through in these words - these very same words which tugged at Maria's thin veil of self-deception until it shredded before her very eyes, pieces becoming the water that streamed down her face. Her expression became contorted with shame; she thought that she was stronger than this… she had vowed never to cry again, hadn't she? Not over something so ridiculously stupid as... as….
As two of the people she loved and trusted most in the world completely and utterly trampling her heart without even noticing?
The miniature orca rested a fin on the girl's shoulder, dusting it soothingly as she sobbed. "How… how could they? Th-They both knew, but they still… they still..." She hiccupped, shuddering. "And I-I-I… I egged them on! I h-helped this hap-happen! B-But still… how? Why?" A deep breath entered her lungs, then exited with nothing short of a scream, "I thought I was better than this! W-Why… why aren't I older?"
Plagioclase began humming something - a tune that was at once familiar and foreign to Maria's young ears - but did not reply; after all, no mere words can heal such a wound.
"N-Not that a few years really would've made a difference, since it's… since it's them." She hiccupped again. "Ren-sama and onee-san… I just - I'm happy that they're there for each other, but I can't stand it. Th-There's no one else I'd rather have them be with, but… but… it's just not fair!" This last bit came out in a wail; the whale dusted her shoulder consolingly, and once again said his line.
"That's okay. I still love you."
Perhaps it was because the whale had spent so much time living in said human's dwelling as of late, but something in his voice - his tone, rather - registered in Maria's subconscious as akin to Ren's… as if to remind her that neither human involved would love her any less for loving each other. For while words cannot always serve as comfort, the tones and meanings which underlie them can, in some small way - and that way is sometimes enough to help a person carry on.
Plagioclase stayed until Maria's tears had ceased and her breathing patterns had returned to normal. Then, with an awkward little bow and a bob of his tail, he swam back out into the hallway. Maria watched as he vanished, wondering vaguely if her onee-san had sent him to her as an apology of sorts. A tentative smile tugged at her lips before she glanced at her watch. It was time for tea with her grandfather.
Out in the hallway, Sebastian gave a nod of thanks to his old friend as the spectral whale swam past (for Sebastian is Sebastian and is therefore friend to all spectral whales); Plagioclase waved a fin in return before swimming out into the streets of Tokyo.
~~~LINE~~~~
Kyoko leaned back, stretching slightly as she walked towards the door of the studio. Her morning's shoot had gone well; there were only a few instances when the director had to call for a retake of the scene. The job in question would occupy the entirety of her day, but the director had told them to take off a couple of hours for lunch; he knew quite well that his employees would perform better if they were well-fed and watered. Thus, Kyoko found herself wandering in the vague direction of the door - and, as her attentions were elsewhere, bumping into someone.
"I'm so sorry! I - Hikaru-onii-san! Hello!"
"Hey, Kyoko-chan," he grinned. "And sorry, too - I wasn't looking where I was going. Where are you headed?"
"I am in pursuit of lunch." She hitched her bag a little higher on her shoulder, as it was slipping.
"Same here. I know a good pizza place, want to come with?" He rolled his shoulders back a bit as he said this, shaking out their sudden tenseness. Such tenseness was understandable, given his situation of unrequited love and all that semi-stereotypical and heartbreaking jazz (played, as it was, on the tuba by a beluga).
Of course, as Kyoko is Kyoko and is therefore willfully dense about such things, the girl on the receiving end of his affections assumed that the rolling shoulders indicated sore muscles. Thinking no further on the subject, she smiled. "Sure!"
"Cool. I was looking forward to it, but then we got kind of sidetracked - not that I didn't enjoy your cooking! It was great! But I - yeah. Pizza?"
Kyoko nodded, shoving her previously uncomfortable thoughts further into the fairy-infested depths of her mind; she was going to have lunch with her onii-san, and therefore should not be rudely distracted. "Where is it? The pizza place, I mean."
"Just a block down to the left, once we're out of here. Shall we?" Here he motioned to the door, which stood some fifteen feet away. Upon her nod of assent, he took several large steps that were supposed to be grand and dignified - but really just looked a bit reminiscent of a swaggering ostrich - and swung the door open for his friend. "After you."
Kyoko laughed, shoved thoughts of a similar situation (sans ostrich) to the back of her mind, and walked out the door. Hikaru, after observing her for a moment, followed suit and fell into step beside her. The walk there was a pleasant one, short as it was; the pizzeria was small and smelled of cheese, tomatoes, and garlic. The chatter, however, was impressive; even at that odd hour, the place was packed. Fortunately, however, they managed to find a small booth. A waiter came over and took their order (a medium pizza with cheese and vegetables, plus pepperoni on half). The two were then left to their own devices. Naturally, as they are them and are therefore quite strange, the conversation eventually wound around to fruit.
"I think that my favorite fruit would have to be either oranges or strawberries," Kyoko nodded, partway through the discussion and with great thought. "Granted, they're not as likely to take over the world as - say - pineapples, but for pure flavor, I'd have to go with them."
Wisely glossing over the interrupting statement, Hikaru nodded as well. "Personally, I'm a fan of cherries."
"You're so smart, Hikaru-onii-san!" she exclaimed, startling the other patrons. "The flavor, when combined with pit-weapons, would permit them to be third-in-command in the Fruit World Domination Theory! Plus, with the distracting power of the stems…." (Here she descended into mumbling, before snapping out of it quite suddenly to ask:) "What's the deal with the stems, anyway?"
"Huh?" he asked, laughing, as a passing waitress conveniently delivered a bowl of aforementioned stemmed fruit to their table (because the authoress is pressed for time and has borrowed control of this universe from the fruit overlords). "The stems?"
"Yeah! A bunch of the girls in my class were fussing over them a few weeks ago, but I never really got a chance to ask about it. Do you know what's special about cherry stems, Hikaru-onii-san?" she inquired, popping a cherry into her mouth.
Hikaru cleared his throat, a tad uncomfortable, before replying with hesitancy, "Well, people say it's hard to tie the stems in a knot with your tongue, and that a person is - um - special if they can do it."
"Like thith?" Kyoko inquired, sticking out her cherry-stained tongue to reveal a loose knot. Let it be much to Hikaru's credit that he managed not to choke on his water, and much to the waiter's that the pizza arrived directly after his nod.
"Yeah, like that. Congrats, Kyoko-chan, you're really special." To me, and to lots of people.
Kyoko beamed at her honorary onii-san before murmuring her usual denials, more out of habit than anything. The pair then dug into the pizza and let the matter drop, though the new information would naturally haunt Hikaru's mind for many weeks to come. (Poor, poor Hikaru…! The authoress is so mean to you, after dangling Kyoko before you like bait for so long in her inconsistencies….)
The pair, upon paying for the food and - after much debate - settling the matter of the bill (Hikaru insisted on paying for the meal; Kyoko paid for the tip, as it would be improper of her to not pay for anything), departed for the continuation of their work. Kyoko allowed herself to be escorted back to her filming location, then bid farewell to her honorary onii-san. The man in question waved his goodbye before hurrying off to his own work, thoughts of cherries to haunt his dreams that night.
~~~~LINE~~~~
Ren, some indefinite period of time later, was having his scheduled mental breakdown. He had finished work a bit early that day - as per his own request to his manager (made some chapters back) - and returned to his apartment in order to ready himself for his love's arrival. Of course, as this required the preparation of food, the all-loving spectral whale was provided with entertainment before the main event began. Japan's number-one actor, as it transpired, did not have the faintest idea as to how one went about making grilled cheese sandwiches. Plagioclase took pity on him some twenty-seven minutes after the fretting and burning began, shoving Ren's phone towards the hopeless man. He took the hint - though without knowing that it was, indeed, a hint - and performed a quick internet search for recipes. They proved to be deceptively simple; eventually, after many attempts and despite his inexpertise, managed to prepare what appeared to be semi-palatable sandwiches. He popped them into the oven to keep warm (taking care, as instructed by the internet, to put them on a cookie sheet) and proceeded to wash the cherries he planned to serve with them, as cherries were one of the few fruits of which he was able to discern the ripeness.
Of course, as Ren is Ren and is therefore a nervous wreck when it comes to Kyoko, then realized that he had approximately twenty minutes left with which to deal. This set him to pacing, and Plagioclase to humming.
Kyoko, meanwhile, was finishing up her last scene of the day. That job had become, towards the end, a bit wearing on her already frayed nerves. The director of the bit she was in had seen the commercial she had shot (both as Bo and as a human character) with Hikaru-onii-san, and had thus been under the impression that she was not a bearer of a mental block concerning all things romance. She had been forced to dredge up memories of a few days previous in order to act properly; her mind was in havoc as a result. And now to think that she was going to see the very man responsible for her distracting confusion - it was almost enough to make her run her bike into a telephone pole, for all that she could see her path forward!
Despite this deep-seated and ever-present confusion, she managed to arrive in front of Ren's apartment building unharmed (albeit a bit breathless, as she had hurried without having any real reason to do so). Upon realizing that she was a full twenty minutes early, Kyoko attempted to lock up her bike with all the swiftness of a noble slothy steed (sans jetpack), but to no avail. She was then left with two options: Either walk up and possibly offend by arriving early, or stew in her own thoughts for another eighteen minutes. She opted for the former, as her mind had been cruel to her as of late. The elevator had never moved so quickly, nor had she ever less wanted it to do so. The door to her doom - as her grudges insisted upon calling it - was before her eyes in a matter of seconds.
I probably should've brought something to cook with, she realized as she raised her fist to knock. But if I go back now, I'll be late…. Her wrist moved before she could finish her internal argument, alerting the beings within to her presence. Plagioclase made it to the door first, sticking his head through to greet her; her startled cry had Ren ripping open the door.
"What's -" His panicked question died on his lips at the sight of his beloved cuddling with something small and invisible; from the looks of it, whatever she held was only about the length of her forearm.
"Ren, you didn't tell me you had a roommate!" She beamed, obviously expecting him to be able to see whatever she held, before turning her attention back to the spectral whale. "Plagioclase-san the all-loving orca whale, is it?"
Plagioclase nodded and forgave her previous ignorance with his typical line, leaving Kyoko halfway between smiling and sputtering.
"What did this - ah - Plagioclase-san say?"
"He said - um…." She looked up at him, biting her lip - it wasn't really as if she could say it word-for-word, after all! - before making a decision. She took two steps forward, towards him, and reached up -
"Boop!" she declared, poking the tip of his nose. Plagioclase observed, from his spot in Kyoko's other hand, as one of the intangible feathers on Kuon's back lightened in shade.
Ren's mind, unaware of this change, switched once more into overdrive, considering both his fears of her everlasting hatred and everything he knew about the song by the same name. Does she know I've heard the song?
Apparently he stood there for a bit too long, for Kyoko looked up at him, nerves quite obvious. "M-May I come in?"
He collected himself enough to reply:
"As you wish."
THERE.
BOOM.
CHAPTER FINALLY DONE AFTER WAY TOO LONG.
Do NOT expect a quick update because school. I apologize. orz
I blame A-sempai for "coolios," as she infected my vocabulary with it, and S-sempai for "yesyes" for the same reason (the latter is also responsible for my budding RWBY obsession - volume 3 comes out soon!). ;P
Please drop me a review! I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter! :D