"Get up, Kuon," the President said.

Ren winced and when he felt his point shoe jab in his side. He opened his eyes and groaned. "Turn off that light."

The President and Yashiro exchanged a look. "What, the sun?"

He bolted up, and then doubled up. His hands rose, but didn't know where to go – to his rising stomach or his splintering head. Everything hurt. And the harsh light shining through the windows only made things worse, showing every bit of last night's destruction. After Kyoko had left, he'd had no qualms about attacking every single bottle in his house. The thought that she would disapprove only made him drink faster, gurgling the alcohol until there was none left.

It was only good that he didn't have all that much in the apartment.

"Yes, the sun," he groaned at length. "Turn it off."

The President sighed. "You're a mess. Get up this instant. I expect you to show up in my office in two hours, and if you're not stone cold sober, I'll call Kuu." He turned to Yashiro. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you to deal with this."

"It's fine," Yashiro said. "I'm his manager. I'll make sure he's presentable."

Ren barely paid attention, focusing on keeping the contents of his stomach down. It didn't work. He lost it, then and there over his expensive carpet. Yashiro waited until he was done, before grabbing him under the arms and dragging him to the bathroom. He threw him in the shower and turned the water to the coldest as it got.

At first, Ren didn't react. Then he came alive, and cursed a blue streak. "Hell, a little sympathy for the guy with the hangover here!" He spluttered, not realizing he was speaking in English until Yashiro responded in kind.

"Get ready, Ren. You heard the President."

Maybe it was the shock of being talked to in English, or maybe it was his manager's tone, that managed to snap Ren out of his sulk. He struggled to his feet, got out of his clothes and hugged himself under the freezing water. As it was after drinking binges, the shower made him feel cleaner and calmer, but it also brought out the feelings of shame and disappointment. He'd sworn not to do it again, but it was a vicious circle – he had only one drink, and then another, and another, and another. Hell, he wasn't surprised Kyoko hadn't wanted him to drink while they had their talk – she must have known he was unable to control himself.

Thinking about Kyoko made him want to disintegrate and let the water wash him in the sewer. Unfortunately, Yashiro must have known he would wallow, because in ten minutes, he barged in the bathroom and, deaf to his charge's protests, all but dragged him into his bedroom and threw some clothes at him. "An hour and a half left," he warned, and then got out again.

Something was wrong with Yashiro, Ren thought when his head cleared enough. He knew his manager was a capable man, but he had never seen him look as angry as that. It threw him off balance, and instead of pulling back like a mule, he did as he was bid.

He found Yashiro making coffee in the kitchen. There was a bag from a bakery store on the table, which was nudged in his direction. Even though the smell turned his stomach, Ren picked up a scone and bit into it.

"We have about enough time to get through morning traffic to reach LME," Yashiro said and handed him a cup of coffee. "I've called us a cab, and I've taken the liberty of having your carpet dry cleaned. Somebody will come pick it up, so I left it in the hallway."

"Thank you," Ren said, when silence descended. "That was… nice of you."

"It's just my job." Yashiro consulted his watch. "I also cancelled your appointments for today."

The cup froze halfway up to his lips. "That really wasn't necessary, Yashiro-san."

"If you think I'll let you walk into a studio with a hangover, you are sadly mistaken. Or you haven't taken a good look at your face?" His manager actually sneered. "You need to talk to the President. This is truly unacceptable."

Ren blanched. Could it be… "Has Fuwa already gone to the journalists?" he asked, feeling like he might lose it again. Yashiro shook his head and took out some magazines from his briefcase. Ren scanned the front pages anxiously – news, press coverage of last night's event, and of course, pictures of him and Kyoko. Of them talking. Of them laughing. Of them smiling. Some photographer had caught the little dip he'd done, and had probably earned himself a fat check.

Looking at those images, so bright and shining with hope, hurt.

"What is unacceptable, then?" he asked. Yashiro sighed.

"You should talk to Takarada-san," he said. From the tone of his voice, you couldn't tell anything, but it put Ren on his guard. Yashiro was only that bland when he was trying very hard to hide his own feelings. It couldn't be good.

Ren set aside his coffee and took Yashiro by the shoulders. "What do you know? Tell me."

His manager gave him a sour look, which made Ren step back as fast as possible.

"In view of recent events, President Takarada saw fit to inform me of your identity, and of the events that brought you here," he said, calmly. His voice betrayed nothing. "He decided that you couldn't handle it and that you needed allies who could help you. I only wish he'd told me about your tendency to drink – I would have made sure your schedule was clean today."

"It's not a tendency. I had a bad night – everyone has them. I don't see how I'm that…"

Yashiro held up a hand to stop him. "I'm not calling you an alcoholic, Ren—" although his eyes said otherwise "—but you clearly have a problem controlling yourself. It's not dire – there are times and places when it can be addressed. Right now, you have a more important issue on your hands."

"Yes. Fuwa hired a detective to…"

"…Investigate you. Yes, I know. I got a very interesting call this morning," Yashiro explained, when seeing Ren's baffled look. "It seems Kyoko-chan got hold of Fuwa's manager, and Shoko-san was doing damage control. Unlike Fuwa, she knew perfectly well that this kind of reveal would backfire royally and was making sure things were still under wraps. The President thanked her and then came here to help you out."

"Help me out? What for? I was…"

"Drunk as a pig. Are you really surprised? The man was worried you'd drowned in your own vomit and, to be honest, so was I."

"I told you, I'm not an alcoholic. And if you have something to say to me, Yashiro, I suggest you do so now."

"Oh, don't worry, I will," his manager said, sneering. "I think you have a problem, Ren. I don't know if it's the drinking, or if that's just a symptom, but you have a major problem. And I'm very much pissed off that nobody saw fit to tell me about any of this."

Ren sighed. "I'm sorry, Yashiro-san, but nobody was privy to this. Only the President and Jerry Woods knew who I am – it was a necessary disguise. I needed to start anew and I couldn't do so if people knew where I came from."

"I'd agree, if you had left all of your past life behind." Yashiro snatched his wrist and held it up, displaying the stopped watch. "You call yourself Tsuruga Ren, but this is just a mask, and a poorly placed one at that. If you had really dropped all your luggage, I'd have agreed, but I'm your manager, Ren, and I thought I was your friend. I ought to know anything that endangers you and your career."

Ren looked into Yashiro's face, and the raw hurt in there shocked him. He'd thought he was protecting people by keeping quiet about his secret – it just now occurred to him that he was hurting them by not trusting their discretion. He felt like a popped balloon.

"I'm sorry," he said, sincerely. "I didn't think."

Yashiro sighed. "At this point, I have to do damage control. And still, this isn't why the President wants to talk to you."

"Then what…"

"Can't you guess? Kyoko."

Ren felt sick. "She's alright, isn't she? She… she didn't do anything rash?"

Yashiro looked exasperated. "No. In fact, she was rather angry. You heard me just now, didn't you? While you were sitting here wallowing, she spent the night making phone calls and cleaning up the mess you and Fuwa mixed up. Apparently, she herself has a few tidbits about our favorite teenybopper idol which she can share if he didn't keep his mouth shut."

Ren felt almost giddy with relief. Relief and pride. Kyoko wasn't one to do things halfway. But… "What does this have to do with me?"

"She didn't just call to tell me the situation was under control." Yashiro deliberated. "She called to ask me to keep you as far away from her as possible."

President Lori flew through LME in a flutter of silks. Today's outfit, which made him look like a shogun, was rather gaudy, even for his tastes, but he had an image to keep up and the image he would keep. He ignored the greetings of his employees and headed straight for the office of the Love Me! section.

The three girls looked up with what he could only call guilty looks on their faces, although in the case of Chiori and Kanae, it was also mixed up with exasperation and just a tiny bit of resentment. He made a mental note to look into that and turned to Kyoko. "Mogami-san, may I have a word with you?"

The aforementioned girl shared a look with her friends, then got up and followed obediently.

He didn't need to hear it from Ren – he knew exactly how the evening had followed. Did he not know Kuu's son? The boy had probably told her everything but the most important part. Well, fine. It was time to take off the kid gloves. If he wouldn't do it, then the president would.

He led Kyoko to his office and chased everyone but Sebastian from the floor. Then he turned to her.

"Mogami-san, it has come to my understanding that you learned something about Ren last night."

She nodded. "Yes, President."

"And he told you the full circumstance of his coming to Japan?"

"Yes. You don't have to worry about me telling, or Sho, for that matter. I already settled this with his manager."

"Yes, Shoko-san is a very wise woman." She'd known, of course, what would happen if Sho let everyone know that Ren was Hizuri Kuu's son and that he had come to Japan after the States hadn't accepted his fabulous talent. It would turn Ren into a hero – a veritably hard-working lad who started from zero, after having it all, and turn into Japan's top star. It would also denominate Sho to the role of a bully, and further damage his pop star status.

"But I don't want to talk to you about that," the President said. "Do you know, Mogami-san, why I chose you to play Setsuka Heel?"

Kyoko shrugged. "I guess it was because I'm closest to Tsuruga-san. I understand him and I can shadow him when Yashiro-san can't."

"That's true. But in reality, many actresses can do that. However, Ren has a very special regard for you, Mogami-san. You must know that."

Her face darkened. "Yes, it looks like it."

Takarada took a deep breath. "It doesn't just look like it – it's the truth. Kyoko-chan… Tsuruga Ren loves you."

The taxi had left, but neither Yashiro nor Ren were in it.

"What do you mean, asked you to keep me away from her? I haven't… she hasn't…" And then he'd remembered the look she had given him the previous night. God, he couldn't blame her if she wanted nothing to do with him. He could barely stand himself.

Yashiro gave him a knowing look. "What happened last night, Ren?"

Instead of replying, he showed pointed at the living room. Yashiro had rolled up the carpet, cleaned the floors and swept the broken glass, but he hadn't really taken a good look at it. A flash of violet caught his eye and he saw a woman's evening gown gently draped on a book case.

If there was one thing in his apartment that Ren cared for, it was his books. And, knowing how he got, he'd put Kyoko's dress out of damage's way before going off into his little destructive binge.

"I told her everything," Ren said. "She wanted nothing to do with me."

Yashiro sighed. Knowing Kyoko, having heard her after the night's ordeal, he couldn't believe that it was as simple as that. But it was how Ren saw it and what he believed to be true. How could he convince him otherwise.

"What started this?" he asked, although he had a good idea. Maybe it was because he'd approached Kyoko for help. Maybe it was because the President had told him. Or maybe… "The car accident – why did it happen? And don't lie to me."

Ren collapsed onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. Honestly, he didn't want to think about that – it made him feel ashamed to just mention it. But Yashiro wanted to know, and he'd lied to his manager enough.

They had come back from a day of shooting as Cain and Setsu. As per custom, he'd showered first while she'd made dinner, and then she'd taken the bathroom after him. He'd used it to check the call he had received from overseas. He'd thought it was his father, but when he didn't recognize the number, he pressed "Dial". It was his biggest mistake, because the person who picked up was a woman.

"Hello? Hello, who's there?"

It was a voice he would never forget.

"Hello? Is that… Kuon."

The voice who had called him a murderer. The voice who haunted him to this day.

"Kuon, answer me, damn it! I know it's you. Kuon!"

Tina.

His hands had been shaking while he hung up. Of course. How could he forget? Tina, the fourth player in that tragic night, Tina, who was also a survivor, and who hated him with a passion. Tina, who, during his first year in Japan, had taken to calling him at weird times, changing her phones to make sure he couldn't screen her calls, and cry her heart out to him. In time, her friends and family had gotten her into counseling, and the calls had become fewer. He'd began to think they stopped entirely.

If there was one person he felt as guilty for as he did for Rick, it was Tina. In some ways, it was worse, because she definitely blamed him for everything that happened, and she was in no forgiving mood. Talking to her brought up old feelings, and the old defensiveness he didn't even know he possessed. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault. Why couldn't she let it go? Why couldn't he be happy, even for once?

And then Kyoko had come out of the bathroom. She had just finished putting her Setsu face on, and had finally found some Setsu-like sleep wear. The camisole and shorts were black with pink lace and she thought they looked pretty cute – trendy with just enough girlish touch to be both Setsu and Kyoko-like – but in Ren's state they had the same effect as waving a red cloth in front of a bull.

She'd scolded him for not eating again, not noticing the look he was giving her. He stood perfectly still, like a crouching predator, and when she'd gotten into his range, he'd pounced.

One moment, she was standing over the table. The second, she was pinned down on her bed with Cain looming over her. His eyes danced over the exposed skin on her arms, throat, legs and belly, and it all seemed to taunt him. Kyoko had gone perfectly still – maybe she was too shocked, maybe she actually enjoyed that little interlude, but her silence had only made things worse. It was as if they were back on the floor of his kitchen, with him asking her if she had ever kissed and if she wanted him to teach her.

Only this time, they wouldn't just kiss.

He'd dipped his head and ran his nose up the curve of her throat, inhaling her. She'd started shaking, and her skin had broken into goose bumps. His arms had splayed over her waist, keeping her in place, as his nose skimmed her jaw and he bent down to kiss the skin by her ear. She'd gasped and her hands had gone into his hair.

That sound (or maybe it was her gesture) had broken the trance, and he'd suddenly remembered who she was. Kyoko. The girl he loved. His kouhai. And underage.

So he'd bolted up, and told her in the coldest voice imaginable that he would be taking her home, and that she needed to change, pronto. She'd been too shell-shocked to reply. He knew he was being cruel, but it was for her own good – he had gone too far, and the only way he could stop himself from jumping her was by putting distance between them. So, feeling angry and guilty, he had driven her home, and as soon as she'd left the car, he'd stopped being careful.

Yashiro listened to it all with a serious look on his face, and then had asked:

"What did she think of that little interlude?"

"I don't know. I was hoping that she thought it was just acting, and that I took her home because I thought she wasn't putting a convincing performance…" Ren began, but stopped when he saw the look his manager was giving him.

"And you still wonder why she doesn't want you near her?" Yashiro asked.

"He loves me?" Kyoko repeated, her voice hollow. The President frowned – this wasn't the expected reaction. People were supposed to be happy when they were told they were loved, right? Surely, Kyoko needed clarification.

"Yes. He loves you. Has, since… I don't know. I knew of his feelings since he aced that scene in "Dark Moon", but it could have been for longer. And you have a wonderful influence on him – for years, all he did was hide and run. Once you showed up, though, he started taking the bull by the horns, starring in roles that not only advanced his career, but helped him heal from the past."

"And you think this is my doing?"

"What else could it be?" And then he saw it. The tears tickling down her cheeks. Good. He could work…

"WHY IS EVERYONE DOING THIS?"

…with that.

"Mogami-san…"

"First Shotarou, and now you! Why is everyone outing him? Everyone has secrets – why can't you just let him come out in his own good time?" she wailed, and tried wiping the tears and snot away.

Takarada was taken aback. This certainly wasn't the reaction he'd expected. He handed her a tissue quickly, while trying to come up with an answer. "Mogami-san, it was necessary."

"How?" She glared. "How was this necessary, President?" A thought occurred to her. "You made Yashiro plant that idea in my head, didn't you? To ask him to that function. You were hoping he'd out himself."

Takarada winced. She made it sound so mean, like a practical joke.

"It was for his own good," he said.

"His own good, his own good. Everybody thinks they do stuff for someone's own good, when they're just being selfish. You were being selfish! Didn't it occur to you that Ren might be ashamed? That he had a hard past which he wasn't eager to confess? Maybe you think it's bad for him to keep it all in, but blabbing his secrets out is none of your business!"

She realized then that she was standing and shouting. Worse, she was shouting at her employer. She took a deep breath and bowed. "I apologize for my outburst, but it really wasn't your place to say these things."

Takarada made her stand up. "I understand what you mean, Kyoko-chan, but it really was necessary," he said. "Ren's secret isn't just weighting him down – it kills him. If left to his own devices, he'd wallow in guilt forever. Surely you see the need for intervention."

"I do," she said. "But it doesn't mean he enjoys being manipulated like that."

Takarada stared in shock as she bowed again and swept out of the office. Was it just him, or was she talking about someone other than Ren?

A/N Sorry, guys. I didn't mean to leave you hanging for more than a week, but it was the end of term and whatnot. Hopefully, I'll wrap this up before Christmas.

And yes, I do know I keep spelling Jelly's name Jerry, but honestly, if I started it, I decided to keep it till the end.

Thank you for all your support (keep it coming!) and I'll see you in chapter twelve!