Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat!
"A boy?" Kyoko asked slowly, ominously...threateningly?
"Uh, y-yes. A boy," The make-up artist swallowed nervously. Why did the atmosphere feel so thick and creepy all of a sudden? And why was it becoming so hard to move? "F-Fuwa-san requested you disguise yourself,"
Fuwa-san.
The Grudges hissed. "Shooootarooo..."
Kyoko pursed her lips.
"H-He said it would be better if you looked like a male friend if Fuwa-san is recognized,"
Of course he's looking out for himself. I knew he was too quick in trying to "repair" our friendship. I mean, I would be fine with just being acquaintances since being friends with that moron is dangerous, but...
"Shotaro was the one who wanted to take me shopping," Kyoko muttered, miffed. "He even picked a day where I had no filming or school to go to,"
"Did you say something, Kyoko-san?" Fuwa Sho's make-up artist whipped out an impressive traincase of make-up.
"...-ver we went shopping we only bought things for him. This time I'm making that cheap bastard pay for all of my things," Mumble, mumble, scary grin, mutter, mutter.
"K...Kyoko-san?" She hesitantly tried asking again.
In an instance, the dark look on her face vanished. "Eh?" Kyoko blinked up at the bewildered make-up artist. "Ah, forgive me. Were you saying something?"
What kind of girl is Fuwa Sho going out with!
"Done with the face!" The make-up artist pulled away with an angled brush and beamed. "Come take a look at yourself,"
Kyoko moved her stiff butt out of the chair to take a look at her face in the light-bulb bordered mirror. Narrow, dark eyes stared at her in awe. Kyoko's orange brows were thick and brown, her cheeks were sunken in, and her tiny jaw was widened. She numbly played with the ruffled honey blonde wig on her head. She looked undeniably male. Maybe a little effeminate looking, but boyish nonetheless.
"Now all we need is the clothing," The make-up artist clapped her hands to her hips. She looked deeply into the wardrobe before snatching up a pair of purple skinny jeans and a long, black-sleeved turtleneck. She guided the stunned teenager into a changing room. "I'll be back with a couple more things, okay?"
Kyoko nodded dumbly.
A few minutes and a change of clothes later, the seventeen year-old heard the click-clacking of heels, followed by a white, poofy vest and a pair of socks raining over her head into the changing stall.
When Kyoko stepped out of the stall, the make-up artist presented her with a shoe box. She opened them to find a pair of Reebok sneakers.
"You know, Kyoko-san," The make-up artist said thoughtfully when Kyoko stood before a full-length mirror. "I've heard about your ability as the transforming actress, but seeing it firsthand is incredible. You make a very cute boy,"
Kyoko felt her face get hot. "T-Thank you,"
The make-up artist laughed. "Enjoy your date with Fuwa-san,"
"IT'S NOT A DATE!"
Yashiro-san scribbled madly into his organizer. He drew a loopy heart with the words "K FREE" with a saucy winking smiley on the slot next to the following day. He figured Ren would be annoyed to see "KYOKO IS FREE TODAY SO BUMP APPOINTMENTS AND JOBS TO MAKE ROOM FOR A (CLUMSY) DATE BETWEEN REN AND KYOKO."
Yashiro-san had considered an acronym - KIFTSBAAJTMRFA(C)DBRAK, for example. But his hand started to hurt from all the letters, so he settled on "K FREE", which was much more mysterious and lightened his chances of Carpal Tunnel syndrome.
He looked up from his organizer to see the model working with Ren on a perfume commercial mince over to the handsome entertainer. She fluttered over him, much to Yashiro-san's outrage. The bespectacled manager was only assuaged when Ren politely, yet sharply rejected the wom- ("No -Hussy! That hussy!")
Ren combed his fingers through his dark, tousled hair. He walked over to his manager with an unbuttoned white shirt on, hard chest illuminated with body oil, looking for all the world like a lazy Roman god. His manager, however, saw the sulky young face of an unromantic.
Yashiro-san stiffened. Last night's rant turned today into one big awkward silence between the two; Yashiro stubbornly stuck by what he said while Ren brooded.
Yashiro squashed his fear and dread with the justification that as Ren's manager, talks like these were mandatory from time to time. Ren needed that. Definitely. In fact, in a couple of years short of a century, Ren would give his manager a well-deserved toast at his and Kyoko's wedding.
Though maybe that Visual Kei guy should get credit for being all up on Kyoko's case by giving her prolonged aphrodisiac-laced chocolates under the impression that they were from Kyoko's best friend. Yashiro had considered telling his charge, but what good would that do? If anything, that wuss would probably avoid her forever or demand the most expensive doctors from all around the world to pump Kyoko's stomach.
Yashiro couldn't decide which was worse.
"You know, Yashiro-san," Ren sat down next to him, with a sigh. "You don't need to keep coming up with code names. I've figured out what 'K FREE' refers to,"
The older man sniffed. "What if I like making code names?"
"You need a girlfriend,"
"And you need to listen to the things I say. I hope you took in what I said yesterday into consideration,"
"What? Oh, you mean about the part where you called me a woman?" Oh God no. It was the sparkly smile. "Or maybe the part where you said 'Fuwa Kyoko'?" Ouch. Did he say that? He didn't say that. No, Yashiro liked his job...
He strengthened his resolve with a chin raised. "Ren, sometimes we need to hear things we don't like to hear in order to -"
"It's okay, Yashiro-san," Ren chuckled softly. "I did take in to consideration what you said and you're right,"
"-make progress with her. I mean, for god's sake man, you've got glitter and body oil all over your f- wait, what?"
"You are right," The actor lifted his hands in surrender, though one hand self-consciously rubbed the shimmery oil on his high cheekbones. "If I want to make any progress with her, I'm going to have to be more aggressive,"
Yashiro clasped his hands together, tears glittering in his eyes. "R-Really? You're serious? You're going to finally do something manly?"
A tick formed by Ren's temple. "Yes, I am," With a small smirk, he added, "Watch me."
"And just when I thought you had no sex appeal," Sho shook his head. "You manage to surprise me with how unfeminine you are,"
"This was your idea, Shotaro," Kyoko seethed, arms crossed.
Sho was wearing a black wig with some very convincing facial hair. He rubbed his furry chin while eyeing the puffy white vest appraisingly. "I want that vest. Give it to me after you're done wearing it,"
"Buy your own vest!"
"I like those shoes, too. I don't think I have those yet,"
"Oi -"
"Are you wearing a bra? Because I'm pretty sure you won't need any chest binding with how boyish your body is," Sho's face suddenly started becoming red. He clutched his throat desperately.
"C...Can't b-b-brea...-!"
Kyoko Demons cackled happily as they coiled around his throat. "If we break his windpipe, he'll stop breathing altogether..."
The sinister gleam in Kyoko's gold eyes disappeared when she spotted a pair of peach heels in a window display. "Shotaro!" She pointed eagerly at the shoes. "You're buying those for me," Her finger dropped in slow-motion when she noticed the eggplant shade his face was taking. Sighing, she called the Grudges off.
"Why," He gasped, hands still around his neck. "Should I?" Sho breathed jerkily.
"You invited me to shopping. Plus, those shoes are beautiful, so you're buying them for me. Unless..." Kyoko trailed off, and promptly her Grudges began to choke him again.
"Okay, okay!" He sourly followed after her. A thought struck him and he grinned. "Hey, won't it look weird for a boy to be buying shoes?"
Kyoko froze (with the shoebox given to her by a harried assistant in her hands), then cooly said, "I am buying this for my girlfriend,"
"So you and your girlfriend have the same shoe size?" He toed the peach heel as Kyoko stood in them, making her wobble and menace her fist at him.
"Maybe," She snapped. She smiled brightly when the shoe fit. She waddled around, oblivious to the strange looks shoppers were giving the blonde boy toddling in pink heels.
Sho clamped his hand over his mouth, cheeks puffing. Kyoko should have reached his nose if only she knew how to walk in four-and-a-half inch heels. He grabbed her shoulder when she almost face-planted on him and laughed outright at her humiliated pink cheeks.
"I can walk in heels as Natsu, but these are higher than I've ever worn," She mumbled, disgruntled beyond belief. It was strangely hard to walk in heels when she wasn't in Naachan-mode.
Kyoko immediately began to mentally review what Tsuruga-san had taught her about cat-walking. She imagined the white line he had taped on his floor.
Good posture, legs ahead of you, one foot in front of the other.
Kyoko didn't notice the crowd of shoppers giving her wide berth as she strutted the shit out of those cute peachy-pink heels. She unconsciously slipped her thin hands into the pockets of her white vest, paused, and jutted her hip out sassily before turning back around.
"You can also bend your knees as you walk, like you're stomping the ground,"
Kyoko remembered popping a hand over her gaping mouth. "Attitude!"
"That's the idea," Tsuruga-san had laughed. "Though it reminds me of how horses walk."
A smile twitched her mouth up and warmed her eyes. Kyoko suddenly realized how deathly quiet was, and swiveled her head about. Sho was looking at her blankly, while the shoppers were all dumbfounded. Kyoko thought she heard lone clapping that awkwardly stopped when a slow-clap sequence didn't happen.
"Isn't that a boy?"
"Why is he walking in heels?"
"I don't know...but he's cute,"
"Kind of suits him, doesn't it?"
"Should we go talk to him?"
Kyoko quickly yanked the shoes off and shoved them at the singer, who stumbled back a bit. "Pay for those so we can leave," She shuddered when she felt the stares of various, starry-eyed girls on her back. "I don't like the atmosphere,"
Sho was pouting all the way to the counter. He pouted as he paid for the heels. He pouted as he walked out of the store, carrying the bag. He pouted until Kyoko spun on her sneakered heel and yelled, "Stop getting jealous of me getting more girls' attention than you!"
Actually, he kept pouting after that too.
Kyoko towed the pop-star in disguise into a high-end make-up store. She restocked on Natsu's stuff, amongst other things. She "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed over the swan-shaped "Odette" cosmetic Kyoko longed for. All the while, Sho did something that one crossdressing Kyoko recognized; Shotaro was repeatedly pursing his lips.
She had learned lots of things from living with the idiot for sixteen years, and one of those things was that he rubbed his lips together whenever he was impatient. It was a strange thing, she thought, since it almost looked like he was about to squeal about being annoyed and tired of waiting, but he was stopping himself from saying anything.
That was what was always strange about the little quirk; Fuwa Sho was never shy about speaking his mind.
That only meant that whatever it was that he was going to say was going to be bad.
Very bad.
Kyoko began to fidget with Odette in hand, shooting the impatient boy in question grumpy looks. Was it because he was tired of carrying her bags with his skinny arms? Or was it the fatigue from actually buying things for her?
She bit her bottom lip and ventured another look, but was met with a fierce glare.
"What are you looking here for?" He snapped, arms crossing over his chest defensively. "You're going to look like a fag,"
Kyoko bristled. I think cat-walking in heels and buying make-up has done enough to do that job.
"Hurry up. We have to go somewhere soon," Sho shook his arm so his watch fell to his wrist. He read the time and gestured impatiently for her to wait on line.
Kyoko swiped the credit card from his wallet with a cheeky grin. If rationed properly, all this make-up could last until next year. On top of that, she was pissing Shotaro off and wasting his money. Win-win!
Just because we're 'friends' now, Shotaro, it doesn't mean I'm going to be nice to you.
"Finally," Sho rolled his eyes when Kyoko dumped an armful of bags into his arms. He eyed them with dismay and said, "I'm leaving this shit in the car. We're going to another store,"
Kyoko stuck out her bottom lip, and nearby, a group of schoolgirls shrieked about a blonde bishounen. "But I thought we were going to stay in the mall,"
"I said I would take you shopping, but I didn't say we'd stay in the mall," He smirked down at her frustrated expression. "We're going to another store. You have a meeting,"
"I have a meeting? Shotaro, don't make decisions for me," Dark eyes hardened like flint.
He tried not to be intimidated by the blood-curdling glare she was drilling him with. Sho firmly kept his eyes locked on hers, and puffed out his chest. "I'm just introducing you to somebody. You'll thank me later,"
"Meeting who? Wait-"
"This store,"
"Mhm," The bastard looked downright pleased.
"This store," Kyoko repeated through gritted teeth. "is suspicious,"
The windows were tinted cherry red. Wiry neon letters crowned and named the store "MAGIC", with the "C" blinking in and out of neon-blue consciousness. Kyoko squinted at what looked alarmingly like a lamp shaped like woman's leg in a fishnet stocking.
"This...we're not meeting this person here are we?"
A slow smile crawled onto his face.
"Yes," Sho answered. "Yes it is."
A/N:
I am such a forgetful slut. I wrote the deadlines on my profile that I would update this story on the 16th, but I thought I was suppose to get a chapter out on the 14th. I felt bad about lying until I read the deadlines and realized I was supposed to have updated my other story, so I ended up updating this earlier and I have yet to update the other story and holy shit I need to stop writing run-on sentences.
I kinda-sorta got back into Skip Beat! (if my new story [ahem, shameless plug] 'January' has anything to say about that). Now I'm getting back out of it, but I still have something fun planned for the next couple of chapters. Still no real plot or conflict or Kyoko/Ren or Reino/Kanae but go lurk on my profile to see what deadlines I'll be setting.
In other news, I killed two centipedes. I drowned those motherfuckers in Raid. God I hate living on the first floor.