:Chapter 10:
Itsumi Momose sat alone in her dressing room within the headquarters of her entertainment agency, sipping a glass of wine. Her manager and publicist were somewhere outside, dealing with the rabid storm of the media and reporters all around Japan. The party—thrown by the cast of Dark Moon to celebrate Ren's win—had abruptly broken up on a stunned note after journalists had caught wind of her kiss with the actor at the Blue Princess Hotel.
Momose's management team had hastily brought her away in order to keep her protected from the madness that ensued all over the country amidst the hungry press. Momose had barely uttered an apology to her supporting cast members before she was whisked off in her limousine; the hasty exit from the hotel and the car door promptly shut her off from the shocked faces of said co-stars. Fuji, her manager, while not entirely displeased, had informed Momose that she was to keep a low-profile for now.
As for Ren, he had vanished to goodness knows where with his own manager.
She stared flatly at her gorgeous reflection in the dressing mirror for a minute, the planes of her sculptured face beautifully contoured. Crimson lips slowly rose into a smile.
Kijima's advice was sound, after all.
Not even Ren had expected her kiss, as clever and shrewd as he was. It was surprising, since his guard was always up, and that included during the occasions where he was on his best, most cordial behavior around the many people in his life. Momose was sure of that: he was a man whose kindness and amiableness belied the cold calculation behind each of his actions.
Every smile at every person was to reap a form of benefit. No action was put to waste. He was a people pleaser, and a damned good one too. As an actor, it was important. He wasn't just a pretty face with a flair for acting; he was also a very crafty businessman. And because he was manipulative under his smiling mask, this meant he was also very receptive towards other similar manipulations directed at him, which happened often, as it does in show business. Momose had learnt wearily to live with it, and she left the politics for Fuji to take care of. Ren, on the other hand (according to Fuji), was always alert. He made use of those manipulations and turned them around so that the wielders became victims, and he became the benefiter.
Recently, however, Momose noticed that he was less cautious than before. Ren, with all his perceptiveness, had not noticed her feelings towards him, despite her many hints (occasionally asking Ren if he was free for a casual dinner together, or asking Ren's manager Yashiro if he was interested to let his charge join her on other projects, to which he apologized that Ren had already signed up for some of his own, much to her dismay), and she wasn't sure if he was putting on a nonchalant act, or if genuinely, he hadn't sensed it.
There was something in his demeanor lately that made him appear even more distant than usual, as if there were secret thoughts in his astute mind that she wasn't privy to. Often back during the filming of Dark Moon she caught him talking to someone over the phone during breaks, or sending messages. Momose had assumed he was merely communicating with a friend of some sort. She hadn't assumed it was a woman, as Dark Moon's filming was demanding (there was no time for romantic dates, unless he had them late at night after tedious working hours), and he had been reported as single for a while then.
Her assumptions were put to a massive halt after his famous announcement at the Star Awards.
She had been beyond shocked, not to mention extremely jealous. Who was that strange woman—pretty as she might be during the awards show last night—and how on earth had she captured Ren's devoted attention all along? So what if she had a pretty face? This line of business was filled with pretty faces. Ren could enjoy his share of beautiful women anywhere in all corners of showbiz. What made this common woman stand out? She was poor, and was also not from a sophisticated, well-known family. She could have been anyone randomly walking the streets, albeit with a reasonably attractive face.
It was all a horrible mistake.
After getting over her shock, Momose had acted fast. Kijima had advised her to initiate the kiss beforehand, assuring her that with Ren's rabid fanbase, the odds would be turned in Momose and Ren's favor.
He was right.
Tales were already being made up after witnessing the kiss between them. According to what the news had reported all over the internet, Momose and Ren had been in a secret relationship all along since the filming of Dark Moon. This was the story the media had concocted. They reported that the unknown female civilian—also known as the mystery woman he had brought as his date last night at the Star Awards—was a devious wench who had used a baby as a way to drag Ren away from Momose, and to tear them apart.
This wasn't uncommon; many women outside of the entertainment industry liked to claim they were pregnant with the child of a male star to force him to provide for them financially, or to garner some attention for themselves. The news went on to say that Ren was too honorable and respectable a man to abandon a woman who claimed she was carrying his child, and made him out to be a pitiful victim caught in the civilian woman's greedy ploy. They also said that Momose, who was Ren's true lover, was heartbroken regarding the civilian's schemes, which included forcing Ren to marry her as soon as possible using the baby as an excuse.
Ren's fanbase was too vast. No one would dare report anything scandalous about him, and even if they did, his obsessed fans would turn it around so that he was the victim, and never the guilty. The tabloids had learned fast. They didn't want to suffer backlash from angry readers again. This meant that this time, they were going to fabricate stories that sat well with fans, painting Ren, Japan's heartthrob and sweetheart, in a sympathetic light.
Momose smiled. The citizens of Japan now empathized with the togetherness of herself and Ren, and had outcasted his lover. Things were as planned. In fact, it had turned out even better.
Her smile slowly faded, however, when she thought back to Ren's reaction to her sudden kiss.
The red nails of her free hand clenched into her palm over the clustered surface of her vanity.
The room door opened.
"Momose?"
The buxom actress stiffened, and straightened up in her plush, velvet armchair, forcing herself to smile softly as she lowered her half-filled wineglass onto the table. Drawn from her thoughts, Momose glanced down at herself. She presently wore a large mink coat over her revealing, ebony cocktail dress (to protect herself from the cold of the AC), and her gold hair was tightly held up in multiple hair curl rollers. Diamonds gleamed from her ears and white neck.
Fuji Yuki appeared, dressed in her usual, impeccable pantsuit. She hastily shut the dressing room door with an air of secrecy, clutching her smartphone.
"There's a private call for you," she whispered, going over to the actress. "The caller's currently on hold. You need to take this."
Momose's eyebrows went up. "Who is it?"
"It's Juliena Hizuri."
Momose sucked in her breath sharply, and her gold head jerked incredulously.
Juliena Hizuri? The Juliena Hizuri? One of the most beautiful women in Hollywood, and wife to Kuu Hizuri, the biggest action film star out there in Hollywood?
She and her husband were worldwide icons; they were the epitome of fame, success, and glamor. They were truly stars. The mere mention of their names—both etched on the Hollywood Walk of Fame—was enough to make any aspiring actor drown in awe. The power couple's legacy had paved a whole new generation of actors, actresses and models. Juliena, svelte, tall, and beautiful, was recognised as one of the world's top, most highly-paid supermodels, after all. She had retired a while ago, but remained to be an undefeatable legend in the modelling industry. No catwalk was the same without her. In fact, she had once worn a billion-dollar, diamond encrusted bikini for a very famous, much talked about photoshoot. No other model in history had been given such an honor.
What did one of the world's biggest stars want to talk to Momose about?
"Yes," Momose said, slightly nervous. "Yes. I'll take the call."
"Remember," Fuji whispered. "Be on your best behavior. We can't afford to offend this woman."
Momose nodded, too anxious to reply. She cleared her throat quietly.
Fuji put the line on, then passed her the smartphone. Momose could see the manager's hand trembling slightly. This was pretty astonishing, since very little out there fazed the confident Fuji. Not even Momose's kiss with Ren, and the media storm that swiftly followed, had taken her off guard. However, Momose was too shaken herself to fully grasp the gravity of her situation as well.
"Hello?" she asked demurely, carefully making sure her voice was calm.
"Hello?" the woman on the other end spoke. Her voice was musical, mellow, and soft. There was a velvety quality to it that sounded familiar, as if Momose had heard it somewhere before, but she couldn't recollect exactly when, or from whom else she had heard it. "Is this Itsumi Momose?"
"Speaking," Momose said, swallowing. She glanced at Fuji, who had seated herself on another chair, watching her as she spoke on the phone.
"I don't know if you know me," the model murmured. "But my name is Juliena Hizuri—"
"Of course I know you, Mrs. Hizuri," Momose said at once, before she could help herself. As if anyone didn't know her! "I am such a huge fan of yours. It's an honor to even speak to you."
"Oh my." Juliena sounded flattered. "How sweet."
"Not at all," Momose replied respectfully. Ren wasn't the only person in the business who was good at pleasing others. "I was merely being honest."
"Ah," Juliena said, pleased. "Well, I must say I like honest people. They are rare in this business."
Momose allowed herself a tinkle of laughter. She still couldn't believe she was here, having a conversation with the legend Juliena Hizuri. "Yes."
"You must be wondering why I'm calling you out of nowhere," Juliena went on. "I apologize. After all, you must be very busy."
"I was," Momose answered, smiling. "But definitely not anymore."
"Oh, you're such a darling," Juliena cried in delight. "To be honest, I called you firstly to congratulate you about Dark Moon. I've watched that drama so many times. I'm a huge fan."
Momose blushed prettily. Juliena Hizuri had watched her drama! Still, it wasn't too shocking if she thought about it. Dark Moon was a ratings hit, and had become critically successful in the entire world, not just Japan, partially thanks to the powerful influence of leading man Tsuruga Ren's star power. However, to have such a famous person like Juliena watch it—and be a fan of it—was overwhelming. Not to mention Juliena had personally called to congratulate her about it! It made Momose's insides melt and her heart speed up. This was truly the pinnacle of her career; no awards won could make her as happy. Fuji arched a brow from where she sat upon seeing Momose's blush, then smiled approvingly, taking it as a good sign.
"Thank you so much," Momose uttered breathlessly, red-nailed hand idly pressing against the hem of her dress. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"You were amazing in it," Juliena praised. "And of course, that was Tsuruga Ren's first romance drama."
Something in the supermodel's husky, womanly voice altered when she mentioned Ren's name. Something strangely like pride, Momose noted confusedly.
What connection did Juliena Hizuri have with Ren?
"Yes, it was," the younger actress agreed, unsure where the conversation was heading to.
"Just today there has been a lot of…disturbing news breaking out," Juliena continued. Momose's stomach tightened suddenly. She wasn't sure how to process the unexpected change in topic—the change, she suspected, that signified Juliena's true motives for calling, whatever it was. "I have been in this business for a long time myself, and I know better than to trust the tabloids. But if by any wild chance that it is true… Well, I thought to myself that I must know. But I will never take a tabloid newspaper's word for it. The reporters are nothing but liars."
Momose was slightly confused. Yes, the fanatical media storm and the news had shaken the world, but it was rather strange for a superstar like Juliena Hizuri to call her all the way from America just to breach such gossip topics. Granted, she was a fan of Dark Moon, but was the curiosity so much for Juliena that she had to call another actress to confirm the tabloid's stories?
Being a huge star herself, Juliena had to be used to hearing fabricated tales about her private life, and about her husband, Kuu Hizuri. She was no stranger to gossip, and definitely knew that it was everywhere, not just about herself and Kuu. So what was so special about the gossip regarding Dark Moon's leading man and lady that she had to know the truth about? Was Kuu aware that his wife had called Momose regarding the news?
Did it have something to do with her strange connection with Tsuruga Ren?
"So I thought," Juliena said, "that I would ask directly from the source. I can't contact Ren, as it happens. But you see, if there is something I hate, it is greed. To use a pseudo pregnancy to force a famous man to provide for you, and to use it to put yourself in the spotlight is rather immoral, don't you think?"
"Yes," Momose murmured faintly, her blue eyes bright beneath her false lashes.
"I don't know if it is true—"
"It is," Momose said suddenly. "It's all true."
There was a short silence. Fuji stared at Momose, looking confused. It was no wonder, since she was only hearing Momose's side of the conversation, which didn't divulge a lot of information.
"You poor dear," Juliena spoke at last. Her voice was tender, but there was also a stirring of anger in it, though not, Momose was sure, directed at her. "It must be agonizing to have another woman use such inhumane means to steal your lover from you, isn't it?"
"It has not been easy," Momose said, letting a crack seep into her resigned tone for effect. Being an actress was not without its benefits. "Tsuruga-san has been pretending that what we share between the two of us never existed so as to meet the woman's demands."
"Disgraceful," Juliena said. "You must stay strong, my dear. Rotten, filthy creatures like that woman are everywhere."
"Thank you," Momose said gratefully. "You are very kind."
"And you are as charming and sweet as I thought you to be," Juliena responded gently. "Do not worry, my dear Momose. Your welfare in this matter will be seen to, if possible."
Momose blinked long, dark lashes, her free hand absently tugging at a glimmering blue sapphire stone around her neck. What did Juliena mean? As sympathetic as Juliena might be with her, it was strange for the supermodel to claim she would help Momose. They didn't even know each other, although Momose dared to conclude that a small friendship had now formed between the pair after the phone call.
Was it because of Juliena's own experience? Perhaps something similar had happened with Kuu before? Did some woman use the bait of a pregnancy to attempt to steal Kuu away from Juliena as well? (Still, Kuu was a very faithful and loyal man who was very much in love with his wife.) If so, Juliena was probably fueled by her own experience with this subject to want to help another actress in need.
It was still peculiar though, since Momose was sure this happened very often with other celebrities in show business. Juliena couldn't possibly go around helping everyone who were victims of this, right? What made Momose so special? Was it just because she was the female lead of a drama Juliena liked? Or was it because this fiasco was more massive than any other case that had happened similarly—Ren was presently the biggest star in the world, after all—and had gone viral everywhere?
"Thank you," Momose said uncertainly.
"Now I must go," Juliena said. "There are urgent matters I must see to. But it was enjoyable talking to you, Miss Momose. Thank your manager for me. Perhaps we can see each other face-to-face one day."
"It would be an honor," Momose gasped. "Thank you for calling me. I will never forget this day."
"Oh, darling."
It took Momose a while to realise the supermodel had hung up.
The actress lowered the smartphone with long, manicured fingers, her pulse racing.
"What happened?" Fuji demanded immediately, standing up. "What did Juliena Hizuri want?"
A thoughtful pause.
"I'm not sure myself," Momose said slowly, pursing her scarlet lips. She placed the smartphone onto the dressing table, and then tugged at her mink coat in a self-assured manner. "But I am positive about one thing."
"What is it?"
"I believe…she is on my side now."
Sho stared at Kyoko's smartphone sitting in his ringed hand, then glanced in the direction of his guest room within the apartment, frowning in frustration, irritation, and worry as he contemplated his next move.
Things had not gone as he planned. The news that had broken the internet was completely unexpected; Sho was dumbfounded at the relevation. To his surprise, his first instinctive reaction was not triumph that he had proved Kyoko wrong (that Tsuruga Ren was a sick, unfaithful bastard just like all men after all), but rather anger.
Anger.
What the fuck was happening? Sho might not know Tsuruga well, but he was sure of one thing, despite the contradiction in all his jibes and lies earlier towards Kyoko (which had been said just to aggravate her). Tsuruga Ren didn't cheat. He was too busy upholding that repulsive gentleman image of his to two-time a woman. If he had had taken a fancy towards someone else, he would make it clear to his current woman that they were over and then move on, rather than cheat.
Meanwhile, Sho personally didn't really give a fart about this sort of rigmarole. Who had the time to inform the woman he was currently dating he no longer wanted her? If he saw another woman he liked, he'd sleep with her, regardless if he was single at that moment or not. Even after the deed was done, he wouldn't bother telling his girlfriend. Let her find out his infidelity herself through the tabloids, or whatever. Sho didn't want to put up with her tantrums when he told her. By the time she found out via the news, he would refuse all contact with her if she tried to approach him again. It wasn't worth the hassle of dealing with her anger. She could throw her tantrum somewhere else.
Tsuruga Ren had put in a lot of effort maintaining his annoyingly pristine image. Why cheat now? Something was off. There was more to this affair than met the eye.
But this wasn't the time to ruminate about that now.
Sho had instantly freaked when Kyoko had passed out. While he was not entirely unfamiliar with fainting women, it was still shocking and terrifying. Thank goodness Shoko was there, with her reassuring guidance and motherly instincts. Sho had dumped Kyoko's smartphone—which was vibrating from Tsuruga Ren's incoming call—onto the table, and then swiftly dived in to catch her before she hit the floor.
It had done something bizarre to him the moment his arms surrounded the familiar yet also foreign body of his ex-lover. The same thing had ocurred when he had abducted and carried her earlier from her apartment block. She was startlingly tiny, he realised. Sho had become so accustomed to embracing the incredibly tall, willowy figures of models that Kyoko's petite stature sent his pulse tingling.
Shoko instantly urged him to lay the unconscious woman down onto the spacious bed in the guest room. The pair rushed to said room around the corner from the lounge, and Shoko hurriedly pushed open the door, letting him pass. After carefully lowering Kyoko's limp form under the sheets and making sure she was comfortable, Sho had made to call for the ambulance, but his manager stopped him.
"You can't," she hissed. "What is the press going to say if they find out an ambulance was sent to Fuwa Sho's house? I'm begging you, Sho! I don't want you to end up all over the news too!"
"Then we'll have to drive her to the hospital—"
"That's just as bad!" Shoko argued. She whipped out her phone, and began dialling furiously. "Look. I have some contacts. I'll send for a private doctor to come on here. He'll keep his mouth shut about this."
Sho groaned, running a ring-studded hand through his spiky blond hair, and glanced at an unmoving Kyoko on the bed. Her face was pale, but other than that, judging from the even rise and fall of her chest under the sheets, she was breathing pretty steadily. Her bronze locks were a mess on the pillows.
"Do you…" he swallowed. "Do you think she's okay?"
"I'm not sure, but I think it's just a bit of shock," Shoko said, still on her phone. "It's not uncommon for an expectant woman to pass out from shock."
Sho flinched at the word expectant.
Kyoko couldn't really be pregnant, right? This was insane. He knew she always liked children, but it had never ocurred to him that she might have any of her own one day, not even back when they had been dating. He didn't like kids, and would never talk about it with her. The mere notion of it made him uncomfortable. It meant commitment, and that was something he didn't want, not with any woman in the universe. So why was he feeling so angry?
The mere thought of Tsuruga Ren fathering the life in Kyoko's belly made him want to punch something. Who the fuck did Tsuruga Ren think he was? Who was he to take Kyoko away from Sho, and become the baby's father, which was Sho's initially rightful shoes to fill (not that he had ever wanted to fill them himself)? Who was he to knock Kyoko up, and then kiss someone else? Why was Kyoko even separated from Ren in the first place, with her luggage in tow as she headed back to her apartment for the first time in over a month? Had they fought? How long had the pair been together, anyway, under his nose?
Sho gritted his teeth at the maelstrom of conflicting emotions in his chest. He couldn't even begin to identify them.
Emitting another incensed groan, he strode to the door, leaving Shoko with Kyoko, and walked back to the dining room. Picking up Kyoko's smartphone from the table, his sharp jaw worked when he saw there were two missed calls from Tsuruga Ren. Jamming his free hand decisively into the pocket of his black, feathered coat, he called the actor back with his other hand, lips pulled back severely as he placed the phone next to his pierced ear.
The other end picked up within less than a few rings.
"This is Fuwa Sho," he drawled viciously, before Ren could speak. "I noticed that you called my ex's phone? She's currently unavailable."
Silence.
A second later later Sho discreetly pressed the record button on his phone. The singer was determined to make a recording of this conversation where he would share the audio file with the world and prove to the stupid media (who was making the perfect Ren out to be the victim in this whole fiasco, rather than a wrongdoer) that Ren had indeed been unfaithful. All there was left to do was wring out some response from the actor.
Sho continued.
"She's going to be your ex soon too, right?" he taunted. "There's no way she's going to stay with you anymore. You cheated on a certain someone when you kissed that blonde woman today, didn't you? Itsumi Momose…whatever the blondie's name is. Or, if the press is right and you've really been secretly dating Blondie all along since you filmed that stupid drama, the fact that you got another woman pregnant in the first place means you also cheated on that Momose person, isn't it? Either way, you're still going to be labelled as a cheater, Ren."
More silence, save for the low, humming sounds of what seemed to be a vehicle's engine. The actor was driving, Sho thought, his acute hearing picking it up. He snickered inwardly. What was Ren going to do now?
He decided to stab at it further, to increasingly tarnish Ren's perfect image and expose his true colors to the world.
"How about Mimori?" he sneered maliciously. "During the time you claimed you were single, you fucked around with her, didn't you, and kept it from the press? So much for being the chivalrous gentleman everyone thinks you are—you dumped her and tossed her aside the moment you got bored of her. And no one believed Mimori's claims, because in everyone's mind, you're perfect, and she's infamous for being an overly spiteful and revengeful lover, isn't it?"
Sho's teeth glinted vindictively at the lack of response. Either way this was going to work. Ren's persistent silence and refusal to answer was a sign of his guilt, and it was going to become apparent in the recording. All the singer had to do was attach this audio recording with his social media accounts, and he was set. Everyone would hear it.
And if fans didn't believe he was on the phone with Ren? Well, he would just show Ren's representatives the actor's contact number on his smartphone as evidence (he was going to transfer Ren's number from Kyoko's phone to his own). Everyone knew there was no way Sho would know Ren's private contact number. How could he? They were the exact opposite of friends and were famous for avoiding each other. So if Sho had managed to get Ren's personal number correctly somehow, this was definitely a cause of concern, and people would have to take the recording more seriously.
Tsuruga Ren's reputation was going to suffer.
"Well?" he prompted gleefully. "Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue?"
A pause.
Ren answered, so suddenly that Sho inhaled sharply.
"How odd," Tsuruga murmured silkily. "Throughout this whole time, I haven't understood a single word you said. What are you talking about?"
Sho clenched his fists angrily at the sound of the actor's unruffled, deep baritone voice. So that was how Ren wanted to play, huh?
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you fucking—"
"I am aware you dislike me, Fuwa," Tsuruga said politely. "You have displayed your animosity towards myself many times before. And I am also aware you are currently in a relationship with Miss Mimori. Has your dislike towards myself given you the idea I once slept with your current lover? It is a little far-fetched, if you ask me. I would advise you to keep your irrational jealousy and insecurities to yourself."
Sho's long, enraged fingers clutched Kyoko's phone so hard he thought the metal casing would break.
"You—"
"Secondly," Tsuruga continued, undeterred, "I am sure there are things more intriguing to you than tabloid gossip regarding my private love life. Please don't misunderstand; I am flattered by your interest towards the women in my life, and I will most certainly consult your expertise if required. For that I extend my gratitude."
"Who do you think you fucking—"
"If you are done spewing profanities at me," Tsuruga said serenely, "I shall assume you no longer have anything worthwhile to contribute to this conversation. I hope you won't mind if I hang up now."
There was a click, and the other end went dead.
Sho gave a deep, agitated roar as he slammed Kyoko's phone onto the table. His livid blue eyes blazed and he savagely kicked a chair by the dining table with a black boot.
"What on earth are you yelling for?" Shoko appeared from one of the rooms, her own smartphone in hand. She had changed out of her dressing gown and now donned a white, buttoned blouse and a black pencil skirt, both articles of clothing which delineated her voluptuous frame nicely. She eyed Sho suspiciously. "What's going on?"
He fumed, refusing to answer.
Shoko sighed. "Fine. Don't tell me. Anyway, I called the doctor. He should be here in half an hour."
"Half an hour is way too long," Sho snarled bad-temperedly, going over to his couch with long-legged strides and then seating himself. "What if she expires before he reaches?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Sho," Shoko said in exasperation. "Kyoko is fine; her vitals are stable. She merely fainted from shock is all. My mother used to have fainting spells herself when she was carrying me."
Sho didn't say anything after that, but kept silent and continued brooding, his face as black as thunder, on the couch. Minutes passed while Shoko checked her phone anxiously throughout. Very soon, five minutes became ten, and ten turned to twenty.
And then suddenly the device rang. She picked the call up hastily, and spoke urgently into it. "Hello? Is the doctor here?"
A second ticked by, and a look of astonishment crossed her features. She said something in assent and then hung up.
"What?" Sho demanded testily, tugging impatiently at one of the many extravagant feathers lining his coat. "The security called you, right? Is the doctor here or not?"
"It's not the doctor. The security downstairs said that Tsuruga Ren and his manager are at the lobby on the first floor. Ren just parked his car."
Sho leapt from the couch. "What?"
"You tell me." Shoko rubbed her face wearily. "I don't even know how he got our address. How did he track us, and how did he know Kyoko is here? He probably came because of her—"
"Stay here and take care of Kyoko." Sho bounded to the door and unlocked it, and it opened with a digital beep. "I'll deal with him."
"Sho! What do you mean? Surely you're not going to—"
Her voice was cut off by the sound of the door slamming.
Sho could feel adrenaline buzzing in his veins. His pulse raced and he squared his leather-clad shoulders as he sauntered down the corridor and stepped into the empty lift. He didn't know how Tsuruga Ren had discovered his address, but this was definitely a good thing. Sho was still smarting from the humiliation the actor had dealt him during the phone call, and he was eager to vent his fury on the other male.
He clenched his large fists. He longed to mar the man's perfect face, and to tear apart his infallible mask. Just once—once—he wanted to see the other man with his guard down, to see him at his most vulnerable and to kick him until he fell to his fucking knees. In fact, the sign that Tsuruga was here indicated that Kyoko did mean something to him.
If Sho had to use Kyoko as bait to make Tsuruga lose control, then so be it. He was going to make the other male pay.
No one insulted Fuwa Sho and got away with it.
The metallic doors of the lift slid open as it reached the first floor, and the songwriter stepped out, black boots thudding the ground and his leather coat flickering. He was instantly greeted by the anxious faces of several of his security personnel. They stood together in their black suits, with wireless earpieces clipped to their ears. All of them bowed respectfully in greeting as Sho appeared.
Sho ignored them and cast his sapphire gaze around the lobby.
Tsuruga Ren and his manager, Yashiro Yukihito, sat together on a bench. Both of them were dressed elegantly and impeccably; Tsuruga, in a dark velvet coat and long, black trousers, and Yashiro, in a brown, pinstripe suit.
Upon seeing Sho, Yashiro rapidly got to his feet. He appeared harried and tired. Sho didn't envy him. His job must have become living hell since the news about Blondie and Tsuruga broke out. While it wasn't exactly a scandal since the media was portraying Tsuruga as the victim, the sudden rush of publicity was definitely taking a toil on those involved. While Tsuruga looked as gratingly perfect as always, the exhaustion was showing in Yashiro's slightly haggard demeanor.
The bespectacled man bowed to Sho. "Fuwa-san. I'm glad you're here."
"Let me guess why the two of you came," Sho said acidly. "To retrieve Kyoko. Am I right?"
Tsuruga's dark eyes narrowed from where he coolly remained seated. His angular profile was indifferent, but Sho was certain there was great emotion brewing beneath his blank façade.
"Well, she's not going anywhere," Sho added belligerently. "She's staying with me now."
Yashiro sighed. "Fuwa-san, I desperately seek your understanding about this—"
"Why? What right does he have to take Kyoko back?" Sho demanded icily, pointing a ringed finger at Tsuruga. "Why would she want to go with him after what he's done?"
"That was a complete misunderstanding!" Yashiro countered frantically, letting out a long exhale. "Ren never cheated."
"It doesn't matter," Sho retorted. "No woman in her right mind would return to a man who kissed another woman."
"Oh?" Tsuruga murmured coolly, speaking for the first time. He was still seated. Sho stiffened at the smoothness of the man's rich, deep voice. "If your logic is sound, then why would she have returned to you?"
Sho scowled, taken aback by the eloquent comeback. "You—"
"Unless…" Ren's eyes had completely blackened. There was something almost inhumane in those obsidian eyes, Sho thought warily as he unconsciously took a step back. Ren's pupils had narrowed into thin, ebony slits, not unlike a feline's. "You took her here against her will?"
Sho grinned challengingly at the film star, blue eyes flashing. "Yes. I abducted her. I gagged her and brought her here while she screamed and cried and kicked. What are you going to do about it, huh?"
He never saw it coming.
One second Tsuruga was seated on the bench, and the next, he was not.
It was as if a panther had sprung.
Tsuruga's powerful, gloved fist—slammed against the singer's face—sent Sho flying. He hazily registered the security guards and Yashiro's horrified exclamations ringing in his pierced ears as he reeled from the crushing impact of the blow. The back of his spiky blond head and his spine crashed agonizingly against the marble wall of the lobby. Blood sprayed from his damaged nose. He had barely recovered when Tsuruga's fist smashed unhesitantly into the side of his face a second time, sending him sprawling to the hard ground in an undignified heap, the midnight feathers of his coat fluttering.
Tsuruga's speed and agility stunned the singer. He wasn't human. He couldn't be human. His actions were those of a large, lithe jungle cat—a beast, and a predator. No one could possibly move that fast and possess such brutal, wicked strength, even for a well-built male. How on earth had he been holding back such savage power all along? It was then when information conveniently flooded back into his mind in recollection. The actor was recognised by many as an advanced, skilled practitioner of martial arts. He was praised for performing all the acrobatic stunts in his action films himself without needing a stunt double. Sho didn't know where he had learned it from, or what kind of martial arts he was trained in, but he wasn't going to doubt the credibility of the source.
"Stand back!" Sho rasped forcefully, clutching his broken nose with long, ring-studded fingers. The security guards, who had sprinted towards him to help, froze in their tracks at his hoarse command.
"You bastard…" the blond laughed mirthlessly at Ren. He broke into breathless coughs as his weak laughter abated, and he looked up towards the other male, still gasping for air.
He inhaled again.
Tsuruga didn't look out of breath at all. He appeared unfazed and unruffled, and what unsettled Sho even more was that there was, in fact, no expression in his aristocratic features. It was emotionless and completely inscrutable, save for an eerily cold gleam in those bottomless dark eyes.
A gleam of bloodthirst.
"Stop it, Ren," Yashiro hissed, grabbing the tall man's arm. "We didn't come here to fight—"
Then the impossible happened.
A stunned Sho stared as the dark-haired man suddenly vanished. Vanished. Even Yashiro looked startled; his hands clutched thin air at where Ren's arm had been mere milliseconds ago.
A strong, painful kick of Tsuruga's limber foot abruptly rammed into Sho's side from what seemed like nowhere, and he wheezed at the blow as his entire body was sent skidding across the wide expanse of ground, black feathers whizzing. Red-hot agony exploded in his lungs.
"Sho-sama!"
The security guards dashed over and caught him together, their hands—from all directions—halting and steadying his skidding frame. Once he was steady, Sho struggled to sit up from his slumped posture on the ground. He coughed heavily, cursing incoherently and unsteadily under his breath. His blond hair were a mess, and his vision was blurry. Splats of blood dotted the ground, mostly from his broken nose. Sho had a feeling Tsuruga had, with that intense kick, also effortlessly snapped some of his ribs as if they were mere twigs under his leather coat. The other man hadn't gone easy on him.
"I said I don't need your help," Sho griped thickly at the guards, who surrounded him in a protective circle. His voice was slightly nasally due to his injured nose, and his breathing was ragged. Every inhale he took hurt like fuck.
The wall of guards obliged reluctantly, parting so that Sho could take a look at his assailant.
"Ren, stop," Yashiro ordered. He hurried over to the actor's side. "Enough already."
Tsuruga stood motionlessly some distance away from Sho's fallen figure. The singer wasn't sure just how much of Yashiro's words had registered in Tsuruga's hearing; the man seemed completely caught up in a disturbing world of bloodlust inside his head, almost like a shark—a predator—which had detected a whiff of blood, and was not going to let it go. As Sho stared defiantly back at him, the other male took a silent step forward, his obsidian eyes cold and blank.
"What?" Sho laughed gutturally, ignoring the blood running down his chest. "Are you mad because you think I hurt Kyoko? Is that it?"
Tsuruga took another wordless step forward.
"Well, maybe I did hurt her," Sho goaded, though the effect was somehow ruined by the scratchiness and hoarseness in his voice. "In fact, I absolutely relished her expression when I gagged her."
Tsuruga took a third step forward, eyes flashing dangerously.
"Fuwa-san, stop!" Yashiro shouted desperately. "You're going to get yourself killed at this rate!"
"But you know what?" Sho said, ignoring the manager. "What hurt her today wasn't me. It was you."
Pause.
Tsuruga's feet finally stilled.
"She lost consciousness when she saw the news today," Sho iterated. "You made her pass out. You. Not me."
Tsuruga was so still now he resembled a statue.
"What?" Yashiro's entire face slackened in shock. "Kyoko-chan…fainted?"
The atmosphere was frozen.
Sho was saved from answering when the metallic clang of the lift doors opening resounded noisily. Everyone turned their heads at the unexpected movement.
Two familiar figures stepped out.
Sho's sky blue eyes widened.
Shoko, and Kyoko.
Kyoko's head hurt. Badly.
She had awoken in an unfamiliar bed and room (well…not that unfamiliar. She used to stay over at Sho's apartment plenty of times during their relationship) with a killer headache, and found Shoko seated by her bedside, looking concerned. The manager had helped Kyoko sit up with her back against the pillows, and explained to a confused and bleary Kyoko that she had passed out.
And then Kyoko had remembered.
God. It was awful. The images of Momose and Ren embracing each other and kissing in the tabloids struck right back like a whip, haunting her vision. Her migraine worsened, and she had groaned in misery, feeling the onslaught of bitter tears spring to her eyes. What was Ren thinking? Granted, Kyoko had expected all along that a playboy like him would eventually move on with another more attractive woman, and she had been resigned about it. Or so she thought. Now that it had actually happened, the blow was excruciating.
What made it worse was that Kyoko was certain Momose already had feelings for Ren even before the news' relevation today. The blonde's behaviour during the Star Awards had been almost territorial; why else would she have regarded Kyoko with such hostility? While Kyoko didn't exactly like her as well (she was deathly insecure around Momose's presence), at the very least the former hadn't openly displayed her discomfort or dislike. Perhaps Kyoko should have been more territorial.
She wasn't sure what Ren thought of Momose (he looked friendly enough when he had kissed her hand in greeting during the Star Awards), but she had a pretty good idea at this current moment. Now that Ren and Momose's kiss had been broadcasted to the world, Kyoko reeled from the hurt and jealousy of it all.
Hurt, and fury.
She was murderous.
Ignoring Shoko's cries that she should stay in bed, the petite, copper-haired female swung herself over the side of the mattress and got onto her feet. Her aching head felt groggy and her equilibrium was a little unstable, but she was still reasonably balanced enough to stand.
"Please stay put, Kyoko-chan," Shoko insisted. "The doctor is on his way—"
"I'm fine," Kyoko said softly. She gingerly touched the scarf around her neck. "Where's Sho?"
Shoko hesitated, but she spoke. "He went downstairs. Tsuruga-san and his manager are at the lobby."
Kyoko's headache took a turn for the worse. "What?"
How did Ren get Sho's address? And how did he even know she was with Sho? Her pulse grew beserk when she remembered receiving an incoming call from Ren moments before she had lost consciousness. Could Sho have answered it? Fuck. This was awful. Who knew how the conversation had gone? It made Koko shudder from the possibilities; she didn't even want to envision what had happened.
But that didn't explain how Ren got Sho's address (she couldn't believe that the singer would have told him his address. Why would he welcome Ren to his house? He hated him!). Kyoko was positive that throughout her relationship with Ren she had never told him said address. She avoided talking about Sho entirely with him, if possible, knowing the mutual dislike they shared. Kyoko always knew there was an invisible line between herself and Ren; after all, they never once talked about their exes (well, in her case, ex. She had only ever dated Sho before Ren) unless necessary, despite the resentment they both felt towards the other's past lovers.
A lot of things about her relationship with Ren were like that—so much negativity bubbled underneath the happy, intimate exterior of their romance, to which they chose to ignore and pretend didn't exist. They were definitely both very attracted to each other, and Kyoko was aware Ren evidently cared about her to some extent (not necessarily romantic love), but that alone was not going to be enough to force away all the anger, craziness, and sorrows hidden between them.
They were two people in a very fucked-up relationship.
And Kyoko was sure that if they continued burying all the flaws and blemishes in their relationship instead of addressing them and talking about them, then no amount of attraction and love could save themselves.
She made up her mind.
"Let's go," Kyoko said to Shoko. She hurried out of the room, the blonde right at her heels.
"Where are we going?" Shoko wanted to know. "And are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. And we're going downstairs, to where Sho and Tsuruga-san are," Kyoko answered breathlessly. Her slight limp was making it hard for her to walk too fast. "I'm scared they might get into a fight. You know how much they hate each other."
Shoko's sharp intake of breath was enough to inform Kyoko that this conclusion had not occurred to the former until now.
The next few minutes were spent in a flurry as Shoko unlocked the unit door, and they rushed down the deserted corridor to take the lift down to the lobby at the first floor. Neither of them said anything inside the elevator; they were both too consumed by their morbid thoughts and fears. When the metallic lift doors parted, Kyoko stepped out, only to recoil in shock, trepidation, and horror.
Sho sat in a graceless position on the ground, surrounded by his frightened security guards, who were murmuring amongst themselves. The rock-star looked to be in a terrifying bad state; his usually perfect nose seemed bent grotesquely out of shape, and his lips, neck, and chest were smeared with crimson blood—blood that was still dripping relentlessly from his nose. The side of his face was swollen, bruised, and red (the perfect features of his face that he immensely prided in and often bragged about was ruined, Kyoko thought). His spiky, gold hair was a mess and he was coughing, making the exotic, ebony feathers lining his coat flutter. A ringed hand clutched his side.
"Sho!" Shoko cried out, running to her charge, her stilettos clicking noisily.
Kyoko glanced around apprehensively, her heart pounding.
"Kyoko-chan!" Yashiro's voice called worriedly. "Are you okay?"
She finally found who she was looking for.
"Yeah," Kyoko stammered.
Ren and Yashiro stood together some metres away from her. Kyoko's breath caught nervously when Ren's familiar dark eyes bored intently into hers. An electrical second passed, and his eyes dipped calmly to scan downwards along the dips and curves of her slender form, examining her body sharply. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking; his obsidian gaze was as impenetrable as ever, and there was no expression in his mien. For someone who had just mercilessly pulverized another man, he appeared disconcertingly unruffled and apathetic. It was almost strange, seeing how emotionless he appeared. She also noticed with some—unwilling yet undeniable—relief that he was uninjured.
Had Ren done…this to Sho?
"We need to call the hospital!" Shoko announced desperately, yelling at the security guards. "He's badly injured. His nose! And his ribs are broken too—"
"I'm fine," Sho snapped, slurring slightly.
"Sho," Kyoko said at last, her voice pleading. "Please. Don't."
The singer narrowed blue eyes at her. He knew exactly what she meant.
"Are you crazy?" he demanded nasally, one hand clutching his broken nose. "He did this to me, and all you care about is Tsuruga Ren? I'm definitely suing. Your precious Ren is doomed."
"Fuwa-san—" Yashiro sounded frustrated.
"I'll see you in court, Tsuruga-san," Sho jeered, although the effect was somehow ruined by how messed up his voice was.
Kyoko's hands fisted. She hated that even after finding out what Ren had done with Momose, she still cared about him. She still loved him. She wanted to protect him. The moment she saw Sho in such a damaged condition, she had instantly turned her head to check if Ren was okay, her throat tight as if a noose was coiled around her neck and her mouth agonizingly dry. The relief upon seeing that he was indeed alright flooded her chest like a river.
And yet despite knowing Ren was the antagonist behind Sho's wounds, she still worried about him rather than the apparent victim in this plight that was the singer. Kyoko couldn't help it. Already her mind was spinning as she struggled to think up ways to get Sho not to file the lawsuit against Ren. There had to be something she could do to appease his anger towards his attacker.
She loathed how deeply in love she had fallen with the film star. And what for?
He had kissed Momose.
He had announced to the whole world her pregnancy without her permission.
And lastly, he had devoured her—body and soul—when she planned only to hand the former to him, in order to conceive.
Kyoko approached Ren quietly. She could sense everyone abruptly still at her movement, and their eyes shifting onto her.
She finally stopped before Ren, her hazel orbs meeting his smothering gaze. He, too, said nothing, and as per the norm she couldn't tell what was going through his astute head. If he was in any way afraid of Sho's threat to sue him, she couldn't tell. If anything, he looked very unconcerned.
Such devasting features, she thought faintly. The features of an angel.
Kyoko raised her hand, and slapped his beautiful face.
Hard.
:tbc:
A/N: Hi, guys! Thank you for all the reviews. I'd like to call this arc the "Fuwa Sho Arc" actually, haha. However, Sho might still pop up in future installments after the arc, so we'll see. But for now, Kyoko and Ren have a lot to deal with between themselves alone (and the public. And Momose. And someone else, as you read. The list goes on forever).
By the way, this fic's version of Ren is a yandere. I mentioned this in chapter three already, so take a look again at it if you can't remember!
Anyway, I'm just grateful I plotted a lot of stuff out already in my head, so all I have to do is follow my plot outline and write them out. When I'm actually not too exhausted from the hellhole that is work, I mean.
Thank you all, and please continue to share your comments!