Drawn to Scale
It is said that no one wins in a war of escalation. But, sometimes, everyone's a winner. Canon divergent, I guess?
It was a harmless prank at first, honestly. With a number of barriers removed between them—Kyoko's continued timid hesitance towards feelings of the amorous persuasion notwithstanding—Ren was enjoying the fact that they could have a much more casual relationship. Like everything that had to do with Kyoko, great pains were involved in getting to this point. While it was clear that she felt something for him, she refused to divulge the depth of whatever that something was. Thus, he resolved to wait for her to expand on that until she was ready. He'd already said his piece, but he was happy that they were at least quite a bit closer to the rapport they shared as children. Propriety graciously took a backseat and things were considerably lighter and more playful between them. There was more quick-witted banter, more jokes.
And, as jokes are wont to do, they transitioned from the verbal, ribbing sort to the practical kind.
It was entirely his fault and he would readily admit to being the one who started it. Kyoko made the mistake of admitting that she was ticklish along the sides of her ribs. As such, Ren soon made it his life's work to sneak up and poke a yelp out of her whenever he could. Of course, it was easier said than done a lot of the time. After the first successful venture, she became much more wary. However, that risk made the reward ever so much greater and his heart soared at the squawk that would fly from her lips when his fingers dug into her sides.
"I don't know why you keep trying to do this," she grumbled to him one evening.
"Because the reaction I get out of you every time is priceless," he confessed with a mad grin. "Besides, you make me work hard enough for it that the novelty hasn't worn off yet."
Kyoko pouted and he tried his best to not focus on the plump, pink lip she jutted out at him.
"It's not fair," she whined. "I can't exactly get any sort of revenge, you know. You're not ticklish anywhere."
For the most part, she was correct. She'd made that unfortunate discovery several attempts at retaliation, something he was thrilled to experience because, heavens above, she was willingly touching him. It would be sad to think how such simple contact could mean the world to him, but he just didn't think about it. All that aside, the supposed 'fact' that he wasn't ticklish was actually untrue. So, he shook his head with a smile and pointed towards his neck.
She raised a dubious eyebrow at him. "There? Really?"
"Just the front," he nodded. "Most hair and makeup artists think I'm so quiet because I'm just focused on getting into character. It's actually because I'm trying my hardest to not laugh when they touch my neck."
Luckily she never questioned why she hadn't noticed it as Setsu. His ticklishness had gone into deep hibernation as he had a myriad of other things on his mind at that time; a number of which he was hesitant to discuss.
"So?"
He didn't understand why she remained unimpressed by his revelation. "So, now we're even."
Kyoko snorted. "Oh please, have you forgotten just how tall you are? I'd have to climb you like a tree just to get close."
He hoped the shudder that passed through him at the words 'climb you like a tree' escaped her notice. Somehow he was fortunate despite the fact that she was looking him up and down with a critical eye, muttering to herself about potential angles of approach.
"Well, you're certainly welcome to try," Ren sent out a silent plea for someone to either glue his lips shut or dig a hole large enough to bury him in.
It was one of those times he was infinitely grateful for Kyoko's penchant for misinterpreting his words. A normal individual would have scrunched their face with distaste and walked away. However, Kyoko was anything but normal—something he thanked his lucky stars for every day. He caught the flare of determination in her eyes and sighed inwardly with relief.
She thought it was a challenge.
The ease he felt suddenly vanished, replaced with a cold sense of dread. This was Kyoko he was talking about.
And she thought it was a challenge.
He had to give her credit for the directness of her first approach. She all but bowled him over like a linebacker intent on taking him down. She was smart and took off her shoes before she got a running start. He didn't hear the soft thumps of her feet until she was only a few paces away, by the time he turned and noticed her, he could only brace for impact as dodging out of the way would have easily landed him on his rear. Kyoko was smart in that she'd chosen a deserted hallway at TBM for her ambush or neither of their reputations would have withstood that scene.
It happened like this; Kyoko launched herself headfirst towards his torso while he planted one foot behind him to stabilize his stance. Her hands were aiming for his neck, but he'd leaned back just enough that her arms ended up encircling his torso. The breath in his lungs was nearly knocked out of him when her head collided with his chest, so he grabbed her shoulders and redirected her momentum sideways, swinging her around him until she landed awkwardly on her feet just a ways past where he stood.
He gaped at her, his chest heaving as he pulled in deep breaths. Offering no explanation, she merely grimaced and shook an angry fist at him before stalking off to collect her shoes.
She only got more creative after that.
There were ten attempts in total spread out over a few weeks, a wise decision on her part as too many would have him constantly on his guard. His favorite was when she waited for him atop one of Yashiro's filing cabinets in his office only to learn that he'd cleverly chosen to wear a collared shirt and tie that day. An unhinged wail came from her when her fingers wrapped around his tie. She'd already lunged forward, hoping to spring a swift attack, which resulted in both of them being carried to the ground in a disturbingly accurate reenactment of the incident on his kitchen floor during the filming of Dark Moon. The temptation to relive that moment—and possibly do things properly this time—lingered dangerously near the forefront of his mind.
If only their manager weren't standing right there, face like a cherry tomato and peering at them with hopeful eyes and hands clasped at his cheek.
Ren's least favorite attempt was both the most innovative and death-defying. Long swaths of bright pink fabric were hung from the lofty ceilings of LME's main lobby; no doubt at President Takarada's bidding. He didn't want to know how she knew they would support her weight, or if she knew at all. The very thought of it wedged his heart stubbornly into his throat.
Late one evening when the majority of the employees had cleared out, save for the cleaning crew and the scant administrative worker burning the midnight oil, she asked to meet him there when his filming wrapped up so they could have dinner together. Instead, she launched her attack, leaping from the mezzanine and clutching onto the streamer of fabric directly above him. wrapping it around her body as if she were an aerial dancer.
Were the lobby otherwise full of people, he wouldn't have noticed. But as late as it was, the sound of rustling fabric drew his eyes upward to see the adventurous object of his affections plummeting towards him. She rolled her way down, letting the friction of the twisted material slow her descent. It was simultaneously impressive and anxiety-inducing to witness. Ren was certain that anyone watching would have seen the panic in his eyes and the worried clench of his fists.
He took half a step backwards right before she fell loose from the fabric, held out his arms and waited. She plopped into his arms with a gasp and the two of them stared at each other while he cradled her like that for three tense seconds before depositing her onto her feet in front of him. Kyoko huffed up at him in anger, but he just folded his arms and fixed her with a stern look. It had been a long time since he'd had reason to scold her about anything, but the lecture sprung forth from his lips like a newly-formed geyser.
It basically boiled down to 'what were you thinking,' 'you could have been seriously injured or worse' and 'just because you played one on television doesn't mean you're a ninja yourself' repeated ad nauseam using as many synonyms as he could call to mind.
Kyoko backed off after that. He had as well for that matter. Before, he'd egged her on by administering retaliatory pokes to her sides a day or two after yet another failed attempt. However, fanning that particular flame became far too dangerous. As such, the fluidity of the previous jovial mood between them ran into the immovable walls of a dam, effectively stopping it until it stagnated. Things went from affable to downright awkward and it started to wear on him. He blamed himself for initiating it.
And it got worse the longer they continued to tiptoe around each other.
In a last-ditch effort for some normalcy, he invited her over one night. She sounded surprised when she accepted which, in turn, surprised him. As a result, he pondered over her reaction for far too long. By the time she let herself into his apartment, she found him standing listlessly in his kitchen and staring at nothing in particular.
"What are you doing?" she asked, cautiously entering the kitchen.
"Thinking."
"About?"
"About how I should've known better."
He didn't see her tilt her head and look at him. He didn't see the confusion on her face. He didn't see the way she circled him, examining the tension in his shoulders and the furrow in his brow. And he certainly didn't see the look of realization when she finally understood.
But what she chose to do next, he certainly felt.
She must have taken a page out of the books of the entrepreneuring youngsters they saw in Guam who scaled the trees, picking coconuts for eager tourists. The feel of her limbs wrapped around him as she shimmied up his body rendered him frozen. She stopped when her thighs were at the same height as his chest, bracing her elbows against his shoulders to grip at either side of his head with warm, open palms. Kyoko's nose pressed into his and she stared him down.
"Listen to me, you giant idiot," she commanded in a low voice. "I'm supposed to be the perpetual worrier out of the two of us. It is not your fault that I took things too far. I love you, but you need to stop beating yourself up over something so ridiculous as this."
Her words and actions left him stunned and, by the time he registered the feeling of her hands sliding downwards, it was too late.
"Now, laugh." Her fingers started a treacherous path of feather-light touches along his neck and she grinned.
The giggles that shot out of his mouth were graceless and nearly too high-pitched for his vocal range. His arms found their way around her waist and held on to her tightly for fear that he'd jerk violently and throw her off of him. Kyoko's face lit up like a beacon in the night at the sound of his laughter. She kept at it until tears filled the corners of his eyes and he breathlessly begged for her to stop.
"That's better." She nodded in approval and smiled.
Ren breathed out a happy sigh, resting his forehead against hers. "I hope you're satisfied now."
She pretended to ponder this for a moment and shrugged. "For the time being."
"Then, I believe a counterattack is in order."
Kyoko froze at the sound of his voice dropping an entire octave and her arms clamped against her sides, but he never moved his hands from where they pressed against her back. She frowned.
"I've only managed to tickle you once while you've gotten me at least a dozen times."
"Oh, it's not for what you did," he leaned his head back just enough for her to catch the way his lips were pulled up on one side. "It's for what you said."
"So you're going to tickle me because I—mmmnnn!"
Kyoko, bless her pure heart, had only protected herself against the potential threat of his hands. Thankfully, Ren had enough sense to refrain from laughing at this. That was the only response her mind could conceive that she was prepared to intercept.
What a shame it was that she'd left her lips completely defenseless.
-END-
I CLAIM ZERO RESPONSIBILITY FOR THIS EVER BEING CREATED (lies, but work with me here). The blame rests solely with AkisMusicBox and PersephoneJinmi for this fic ever happening. Silly ideas were thrown around. I volunteered as tribute. The rest is history.
Hope you liked it!
AUTHOR OUT
