Owning It

Sho's hand gripped tight around the roses, creasing their stems. It all went down just as he suspected it would. Kyoko had made it quite clear where he stood in her life. Screw it, nothing he could do would change her mind. And that suited him just fine -- made it easier to completely smash her. He picked off a rose petal and slowly crushed it between his fingertips.

Sho felt a strange chill emanating from the seat next to him and glanced over. Kyoko was chuckling evilly at her phone, texting someone. This shoot was going to be a total disaster. There was no way they could pull these roles off; they required actual chemistry. All he and Kyoko had was… what? Bickering?

Sho twisted the roses in his hand. We were friends, once. Her words sprang unbidden to his mind. He whacked the roses against his palm. What was he even apologizing for? She was the one that should be apologizing to him. She was the one definitely shacking up with a nutcase even after promising him, her so-called childhood friend, that she would never even dream of such acts. He snapped one of the rose stems in his fist accidentally, the petals falling loose on his lap. He cursed under his breath and went to throw the bouquet on the floor but stopped.

Flowers and chocolate and apologies. Sho took a shaky breath. He wasn't here to make nice to Kyoko because the crazy woman deserved it. He was here to make nice because Koga asked for it. Damn it. Sho brushed the petals off his lap but held on to the other flowers. He said he'd help Koga get Tsuruga Ren. Sho winced at the image in his mind. What was so appealing about that man? First Kyoko, now Koga. It was like both of them willfully blinded themselves to Tsuruga's darkness and treated the maniac like he just needed a head scratch to calm down!

Tsuruga's bloodthirst is palpable and yet still— still they both chose him over me. His hands shook. Another petal fell.

He looked over at Kyoko. She was watching the scenery out the window, ignoring him. He could hear his teeth grinding in his skull. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was try again. The shit he did for his friend.

He shoved the slightly bedraggled flowers back at Kyoko. "Just take them." Kyoko glared at him over her shoulder.

"I did," she said. "I put them where I wanted them." She looked meaningfully down at the floor, then back up at Sho. Sho could feel his rage start to boil. He tried to make himself breathe deeply. Friend. Trying to help a friend.

"Fine," he said through his teeth, laying the flowers carefully back on the floor.

Kyoko's eyes bugged out. "What is wrong with you, Shoutaro?" He mocked her soundlessly, crossing his arms against his chest. "No-- seriously. Are you sick?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "What? You said we used to be friends. Maybe I'm just trying to be a friend."

"It's weird."

Sho glared at her, forcing himself to remain silent.

"Being a selfish prick comes naturally to you," she continued, staring at him suspiciously. "It's who you are. This… this is freaky."

Sho bit back a retort. "I… Listen, I'm trying."

Kyoko let out a loud guffaw, clutching her chest and leaning back against her seat for support as the laughter shook her.

"Stop," he said, irritated. She just waved her hand at him, too consumed with laughter to breathe or reply. "Seriously," he said, scowling. "Stop."

Kyoko wiped tears from her eyes, her head lolled back against the headrest as she looked over at Sho, still giggling. "I can't," she gasped. "It's too rich. Fuwa Shoutaro is trying to be a decent human being!" Her laughter filled the van again, grating on his ears.

"SHUT UP KYOKO, GOD!" He grabbed up the flowers and threw them at her, the blooms exploding against her raised arms into a cloud of red petals. "As if you were worth it! Stupid sell-out -- how dare you mock me when it's you that's messed it all up!" Kyoko stared at him in shock, her arms still raised against his outburst. He flung more words at her, unable to stop himself. "I warned you not to feel anything for a man like that! I warned you— and you agreed! You know he's a train wreck," he spat out. "Why—"

Kyoko's eyes were hard as she shot back at him. "Speak for yourself, Shoutaro."

He snarled at her. He was done with this ridiculous apology plan. "You owe me. Go back to Kyoto where you belong, housemaid."

Her eyes met his— but they weren't filled with the hateful demonic glee he was used to receiving. Instead, disbelief filled her eyes. "You really believe it, don't you?"

He scoffed at her, trying to keep the confusion at bay.

"You do," she said, her tone soft. Almost mournful. "You actually believe you should be able to dictate that kind of thing for me." She rested her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes. "Oh, Sho," she said quietly, "if only you would grow up."

Sho flinched.

She looked over at him, her eyes full of pity. He felt his stomach roil and forced himself to turn and look out the window.

Kyoko didn't say anything else the rest of the ride. He wished she would speak. Taunt him. Ridicule him. Give him a reason to lash out and shove these emotions somewhere safe, outside of himself. But this silence— Sho's fingertips tapped anxiously on his leg, nervous energy escaping him.

Grow up.

Child.

God, it echoed Koga's accusations perfectly. Sho couldn't stop fidgeting nervously. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to internalize it.

The van pulled up to the hotel overlooking the beach where they'd shoot the MV. Sho flung open the door before the van came to a stop, racing into the lobby. Realizing he had no way to check himself in and refusing to wait for Shoko, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked out to the balcony. Two hours til action. Still time to quit.

He gritted his teeth, shaking his head against his own cowardice. Even without Koga's request, this was still part of his career. A new song release; a premium music video. He couldn't walk out without damaging his reputation in the industry beyond repair. Sho cursed and plopped down in a heap in one of the chairs.

Several minutes later, a thunk on the table next to him roused him from his stewing. A small hand gestured at the large pink drink, condensation dripping slowly down the side of the curved glass. Sho scowled and turned away.

"It's your favorite flavor," Kyoko said cheerfully. He just sat there, refusing to acknowledge her presence further. He would deal with her when he had to: on set.

Kyoko sighed, sliding her chair closer to the balcony's edge. She sat silently, watching the waves. Several minutes passed; with each Sho grew increasingly antsy. He was just starting to consider caving and surrendering the space when she spoke.

"If you want to talk, I'm here. If you don't want to talk, I'm here. But if you want to bicker and rant and refuse to actually deal with any actual struggles— I'll take the daiquiri and leave." She didn't look at him while she spoke. Her voice was quiet and soothing. She sat back in her seat and waited, still looking straight forward out over the sea.

He blew the air he'd been holding in slowly out between his lips. What was she playing at? Talking, not talking, bickering…

Grow up.

Sho rested his forehead on his fist. "There's nothing to talk about," he mumbled.

"We could start with Tokyo," she offered. "You did, after all, want to apologize. I'm still not sure you know for what." She turned and looked him in the eye. "Yes— you asked me to come. But you didn't kidnap me. And you didn't hypnotize me to romanticize you beyond all bounds of reason and sense." Kyoko scoffed at herself, picking the tiny umbrella out of the drink and rolling it between her fingers. "You didn't force me to work two jobs to support you, or quit school, or limit my dreams to being your wife." She layered the last word with a sad humor in her tone, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Kyoko flicked the umbrella down onto the ground. "But neither did you stop me. You let me run myself ragged for you, while you never once even considered me a partner. Much less a potential love. You used me," she said, her voice calm and measured. She looked up, searching his eyes for something. "And then you threw me away."

Sho winced, then tried to turn it into a snarl.

"No," she said, shaking her finger at him. "Let yourself feel it. President Takarada taught me this. Embrace your true emotions, let them roll through you— learn them and master them. You want to be the best singer in Japan. Let yourself actually feel, Fuwa Sho."

Sho stared at her. She stared back, a sad smile transfiguring her face. "I forgive you," she said. "I'm over you." She didn't break eye contact.

He could feel her earnestness reaching out to him through her gaze. Sho's fists shook as he knotted them against her intrusiveness. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't look away.

"Kyoko—" he said, the short name forced out almost like a cough. He couldn't say more. She let her gaze fall to his hands. He watched the top of her head, unwilling to look down. Her soft fingers brushed over his fist, resting gently on top of his skin. She squeezed it lightly, then slowly pried it open finger by finger until his hand lay on his lap open and shaking.

A soft splash landed on his open palm, followed by another, and another. He looked at her in startlement, but her golden eyes were clear. The one crying was him. Sho closed his eyes, trying to force the tears to stay inside, to deny their existence, but the traitors crept out the sides. The harder he closed his eyes the swifter they fell, one by one coating his palm with salty regret.

"I'm sorry," he said in a gasp. "I'm sorry I wasn't actually a friend."

"Own it," she said quietly.

A/N: Happy 2020 to everyone! Special thanks to AkisMusicBox for helping me beta the psych for this ch. Here's to seeing clearly in the new year. For our beloved characters, and in our own lives. Persie loves you :)