Note: This was supposed to be done before New Year's Day 2009. Obviously, that didn't happen. It was also supposed to be a one-shot, but it got pretty long, so I decided to make it a two-parter. This is part 1. Sorry for the interminable delay, but I've had papers out the wazoo and consequently been pretty burnt out, writing-wise, for the past few months. Anyway...enough excuses. Hope you like this!

Unscripted

Kiss #30

"And...cut! That's a wrap, people. Good work. Remember, everyone, we're getting the whole week off. Happy New Year, and don't come back till January fifth." The words, sharply articulated yet pouring forth one after another like pellets of cereal into a bowl, could only have come from the director's mouth. When he wasn't yelling at the key grip to get the lighting just right, he could usually be found lounging on his chair. In fact, Yoh thought as he took one last glance at the cameras, the director never did seem to leave his post on the chair except maybe to grab some canapes from the refreshment table.

"I don't know about you, Anna," he said, passing by the table to snag some leftover sandwiches and chips, "but this vacation couldn't have come at a better time. How many takes did we do to get that fight scene with the X-Laws right?"

"Forty-eight, I think," she replied, removing the string of beads from her neck and slinging them upon her shoulder. "Marco's wig kept slipping off. I told the boys in makeup to quit messing around and just hairspray the damn thing on, but you know, pretty boy Marco won't get within twenty feet of anything that might get a tangle in his 'do."

"Hey! It was forty-six!" An airy yet discernibly angry voice corrected her. The speaker ripped the blond wig off his pate, sending hair pins flying upon the table and into the bowl of chips and dip. "And Anna, don't tell me you've never wasted an hour trying to get tangles out of your lovely blond locks."

"Oh, Marco," Anna said, twirling her beads around her finger and waving the strand in his face, "when are you ever going to come out of the closet?"

"Maybe once Yoh learns how to swing a sword!" Marco pulled the wire-rim glasses off his nose and gestured wildly with them. "Your parries look like something I do when I'm sweeping the floor. And where did you learn to thrust?"

Yoh calmly took a sip of punch and spoke. His voice, unlike Marco's, was about the same both on the set and off—and he was just as irrelevant too. "Heh, Marco, I bet you've done your fair share of thrusting with Lyserg in the green room."

"I've never been so insulted in my life!" he roared in response, unbuttoning his holster and slamming it to the ground.

"Save it for the cameras, Liberace," Yoh deadpanned, bobbing his head forward sharply so that his headphones clattered to the floor. "You'd think that with a budget as generous as we've got, we could spend the four thousand yen to get actual headphones. These mock-ups are about as comfortable as doing those fight scenes in bathroom slippers."

"You want to talk about cheap props?" Anna asked incredulously. Her voice, too, was virtually unchanged even when the cameras stopped rolling, and Yoh wasn't acting when he shuddered involuntarily at hearing her kvetch. "Did you see the final cut of last week's episode? The one where I cook dinner for you? Those close-ups were terrible. Where the hell did they find that fake broccoli? A Little Tykes supermarket playset?"

"Yeah, I don't even know why they bother putting episodes like that in," a deep, well-enunciated voice chimed in. "Isn't this a kids' show? I remember being eleven. All I wanted to see was the fight scenes. Screw all the 'meanwhile, back at the ranch' stuff."

"Well, Ryu," Yoh said to him as he removed his elaborate wig, "maybe we'd film more fight scenes, you know, if each one didn't take forty-eight tries to get right."

"For the last time, it was forty-six! And they weren't all me. Learn to handle a sword!" Marco screeched.

"Yeah, I bet you get plenty of practice handling Lyserg's sword..."

"I've taken enough from you!" he yelled, storming off the set.

"That's not what he said," Yoh called after him.

"What's gotten into him?" asked Ryu, rubbing at the fake hair on his arms. "Damn, this stuff doesn't even come off in the shower."

"Who knows? Lyserg probably told him he found a girlfriend."

Anna laughed. "I've never seen anyone more in denial."

"Well, maybe Tao Jun, when I told her she only showed up in so many episodes because of the boob factor," Ryu suggested, making the appropriate gesture in front of his chest for emphasis. "Anyway, are you coming to the New Year's party? We're trying to get most of the actors' union to come. Naruto and Sasuke are supposed to show up and rumor has it they're gonna kiss at midnight."

"What? Geez, talk about pandering to the fangirls."

"Okay, if that's not really your thing, two words. Free alcohol."

"You keep forgetting," Yoh said, sounding as dismayed as he looked, "you play an adult on the show because you're an adult. And Anna and I play kids because, well, we're still kids. Although," he continued confidentially, "if you could sneak us a leftover bottle of something, that would be great."

"I think you've been buttoning your battle uniform a little too tightly," Ryu wheedled, even going so far as to undo the topmost button of Yoh's outfit. "It's a New Year's party, for God's sake. The director isn't coming, and even if he was, who cares? Live a little, baby."

"Well..." Yoh tried to size Anna up, wondering about her feelings on the matter. Granted, they played bride- and groom-to-be on the set, but in real life they barely spoke, and Yoh wasn't too keen on making her think he was a typical teenage degenerate. Of course, by the standards of his generation, he wasn't, but if a career in acting had taught him anything, it was that boys and girls operated on completely different—and often incompatible—wavelengths. He didn't know whether or not suppressing his urge to accept Ryu's invitation and have a few drinks would improve his standing with Anna. True, he was a seasoned actor, but here he was live on the air without a script.

"What are you looking at me for?" she demanded hotly. The set lights were off and the blush that tickled at her cheeks had to be genuine. She continued, before he could decide what to make of it, "If you want to go, just go. I think...if I don't have anything else to do, I might go too."

"Uh," Yoh said intelligently, demonstrating why he had chosen television acting over improvisational theatre.

"Master Yoh," Ryu piped up, slipping back into character, "might I have a word?"

Yoh nodded blankly. Ryu whispered something into his ear.

"So long as you're going, and I'm going," Yoh said stiffly, looking anywhere but into Anna's eyes, "maybe we could go together?"

"Gee," Anna said icily, shooting an accusatory glare at Ryu, "I wonder where you came up with that idea." Ryu pasted on a saintlike grin and batted angelic eyes at her. "In any case, if I actually go, you can find me at the north entrance of the Niigata station at six-thirty. If the clock hits 6:31 and you're not in sight, I'm getting on that train."

Both Yoh and Ryu marveled at the degree to which life, at least in Anna's case, imitated art. Ryu felt compelled to remark upon the parallel. "Man, Anna, you've, uh, really adapted your character in your everyday life, huh?"

Anna shrugged. "If you think I'm a bitch, no one's forcing you to go with me. Happy New Year, Yoh, Ryu." With a final rattle of her bead necklace, she turned her heels and left.

"Thanks, Ryu," Yoh said once she was out of earshot.

"Think nothing of it, young master," he said, returning to character. "But I could always tell, when we're filming, that you had a hard-on for her."

"What?!" Yoh blustered, looking down unconsciously.

"No, not literally," Ryu amended. "Well, not most of the time, anyway. But yeah, you're so obvious."

"Is it really that apparent?" Yoh practically bounced with nervous energy.

"Totally, dude. I know you have a major crush on her. Like in all those shots at the En Inn, oh, you can so see the chemistry between the two of you. Sometimes I just wanna put hands behind your necks and push your faces together. So much sexual tension you could cut it with your sword. Makes for great television, I think, but man...I know what it's like to constantly be around someone that you have to pretend not to like. It's a special kind of hell, am I right?"

"Oh, no," Yoh said, cupping his face in his hands. "You're not crushing on Tamao, are you?"

"So what if I am?"

"Dude! She's like, what, thirteen?"

"Fifteen next March. And you know what they say, 'If there's grass on the field, play ball!'"

Yoh simply shook his head.

"Kidding. Anyway, look, I think I'm actually gonna have to shave this fake hair off. Hell if I know how they can keep every strand of this stuff stuck to my arms, while Marco's wig keeps slipping off. I'll see you at the party. Hopefully with Anna."

"Yeah, hopefully," Yoh replied, looking not at all hopeful.

The illuminated clock hovering above the south entrance of Niigata station told Yoh it was already a quarter past six as he hustled past under it. His pace soon slowed considerably, though, as he encountered the crowd within. Of course. Everyone's heading to the temples for New Year's celebrations. I can barely see my own feet in this mob—how will I be able to find Anna?

Yoh was about as agile in real life as he was on TV, fortunately, and he exploited his lithe nature as he maneuvered through the throng. On his tiptoes, he weaved between people, yelping out "Sorry!" whenever he nudged someone. With all the jostling he was doing, it was only a matter of time until someone returned the favor. His superior reflexes allowed him to see the man before him raise his forearm to check his watch. Unfortunately, since Yoh was in mid-step, he couldn't alter his course.

Crack!

"Oh, my God! Are you all right?" It seemed to Yoh that he was hearing the words from under water—the volume ebbed and flowed, crested and rolled. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming and...You're bleeding! Does anyone have a tissue? Anybody?"

"Hey, I know you!" A boy of about seven or eight began pulling on the man's cuff, drawing it over the watch that had just clocked Yoh. "Daddy, run away! You just gave Yoh Asakura a bloody nose!" He jumped in front of his father and spread his diminutive arms wide. "Yoh-sama, please don't hurt Daddy, okay? It wasn't on purpose. Please?"

"No hard feelings, kid," Yoh said. His own voice sounded odd to him, like he was pinching his nose shut. "I'd give you an autograph, but I've got a date in ten minutes."

"A date?" the boy asked, still looking awed from standing so close to the Shaman King star. "You mean like with a girlfriend?" His eyes opened wide as he gasped. "Do you mean Anna is here too? I wanna meet her, Yoh-sama, please, please!"

"Kid," Yoh said, with a lot more wistfulness in his voice than he meant, "I'd love to meet her too."

With that, Yoh, still feeling dizzy from the blow to his head, slunk away into the crowd once more. The warm stickiness oozing onto his lips and chin told him his nosebleed was still in full flower, but he didn't have time to tend to his injury. Besides, he noticed that on account of the graphic appearance of his wound, the crowd tended to give him a wide berth as he wobbled towards the north entrance.

If the clock hits 6:31 and you're not in sight, I'm getting on that train. Anna's words emerged in his mind then, urging him to pick up his pace. Competing with those thoughts was the nagging suspicion that he should at least make a cursory effort to wash the blood off his face. What if Anna sees me like this? We don't even use fake blood when we're shooting the scenes...Aw, hell, I'll leave it, maybe she'll think I got into a fight or something. Girls like a guy with street cred, right?

Yoh was close enough to the north gate now to feel the wintry air from the wide-flung doors filter through the crowd and waft onto his still-bloodied face. The sheer density of the crowd, moving away, toward, and around him, worried Yoh. He realized that although Anna wore her trademark black dress on the set at all times, there was no guarantee that she would adhere to that austere dress code when the cameras were off—in short, he had no inkling of what to look for in the crowd.

"This has got to be a joke. That only happens in manga, right?"

It took a little while for the words to sink in, and once they did, Yoh was if anything more confused. At least he could answer the question of who had spoken the words. "Anna?"

If his words were delayed, or his expression a little slack-jawed, neither his confusion nor his recent injury could be held accountable. Yoh was simply taken aback by the figure suppressing a laugh before him. He needn't have fretted about not recognizing Anna in unfamiliar clothing; she was wearing her standard black outfit, but somehow, even off the set, and cast in the sallow fluorescent lights of Niigata station, she was radiant.

Yoh stopped admiring her appearance just long enough to acknowledge her speech and ask the obvious question. "Erm, what only happens in manga?"

"You know," she replied, finally letting the pent-up laughter escape from her thin lips. "The whole 'guy sees hot girl and gets a nosebleed' gag. You're a stitch, Yoh. Where'd you get the fake blood? I bet someone in makeup thought it'd be hilarious, huh?"

"It's real, all right. You really think I'd need fake blood for that? If you were any prettier you'd make me anemic."

"Oh, stop," Anna said dismissively, waving Yoh's compliment off. "Real or not, that blood needs to come off your face before we get to the party. I suspect your face will be red enough from...other things...once the night gets on," she said disdainfully, making a drinking gesture to illustrate what she meant. "But we don't have any time! My God, let's get to the platform before that train leaves without us!"

Anna's fear was well founded, as it turned out. Seconds after they tumbled onboard, the doors slid shut.

"It's not a long trip. Come on, let's get that stuff off your face." Anna plucked through her purse and withdrew a pink handkerchief tasseled with lace. "C'mere, Yoh. That should come right off..."

But Yoh moved his face no closer to Anna and her outstretched handkerchief. "No way. Is that really yours?" he asked, staring at it in disbelief. "It's so...feminine! Nice to know that the Ice Queen thaws a little once the cameras stop rolling," Yoh chuckled.

"Is that so? Fine, show up at the front door with a bloody face for all I care," Anna sniped, deliberately folding the handkerchief before sliding it back into her purse.

"I...what? Okay then," he said, not really knowing how to respond to that.

A few tense seconds of silence elapsed. Yoh wiggled his nose, curled his upper lip, and exhaled through his nostrils sharply, trying to convince the dried blood to leave. Anna looked around the train car, willing herself to find the posted ads and maps interesting. Their willpower began to wane. Yoh resigned himself to his bloody-lipped fate and tried to see his own reflection from the scratched window. Anna's field of vision drifted out of focus; every ad doubled itself, until she could take no more, and gazed out the window on her side.

Two pairs of reflected eyes stared into each other, ethereally piercing.

"How did it happen anyway?" Anna was still facing the window.

"Oh, well," Yoh replied, his reflected eyes breaking contact with Anna's, "had to put some punks in their place. Collateral damage and all."

The reflection of Anna's eyes was swiftly replaced by a blaze of sashaying goldenrod strands. She was as sharp as a poorly maintained piano, and just about as unpleasant to listen to, especially when she detected a lie. "Sure you did. You walked into something, I bet."

"No, I swear. You should have seen me in action. I only spared their lives because there were witnesses."

Anna rolled her eyes histrionically. "Witnesses? Bet you gave them quite a show, tripping over your own shoelaces and faceplanting into a vending machine. Am I close?"

Yoh adopted a hurt expression. With his bloody upper lip, it looked ridiculous. "You don't think much of me, do you?"

"Well, you must not think very highly of me, either," she said, sweeping her hair back with a haughty jerk of her neck. "Trying to pass off that self-induced bloody nose as some kind of battle scar. Who the hell are you trying to impress?"

"Who the hell else would I be trying to impress?" he blurted out.

"Me?!" Anna shot back. "Why would you need to impress me any more?"

Like two people witnessing a train wreck, Yoh and Anna almost simultaneously clapped hands over their own gaping mouths and stared straight ahead with bulging eyes.

Oops, he thought.

Oops, she thought.

"Uh, any more...than you would need to impress a three-toed sloth. Because we both would care the same amount—none at all," she stammered.

"Right," Yoh nodded, too eagerly, "right."

Then silence. Both then inhaled sharply, as if to speak.

"Anyway—"

"About that—"

Silence again. This time, a little less awkward. Only one sharp breath this time—Anna's.

"We...should be arriving soon. Heroic or not, that blood really should come off your face, Yoh. The other guests might jump to conclusions."

"Let them!" Yoh said, more boldly than he felt, or meant to. "Then I can tell them the story of how I fought off half a dozen thugs—"

"Sure. And then I could tell them how it really happened. You tried to kiss me on the ride over, and I had to put a stopper on your libido," Anna countered, slapping the air for emphasis.

"Ha! Me try to kiss you?" he replied, still with a kind of swagger he didn't truly feel. "Don't flatter yourself. I'd sooner kiss Manta."

"And you single-handedly winning against six ruffians is more believable? I can't imagine what kind of fantastic bullshit you'll be crapping out once you're drunk, if you're telling these kinds of lies while sober. Oh well. We could all use a good laugh on the set." She groped around inside her purse.

"You said it. Especially with you draining everyone's morale," Yoh sniped.

"What?" she screeched. Yoh saw now what she had just been looking for.

The pink handkerchief.

It looked decidedly un-cute now, crumpled up within Anna's tight fist, with just the strangled edges poking out. "Draining everyone's morale, huh? Well, you can just clean the damn blood off yourself then."

With a furious fling, the balled-up kerchief disappeared within the recesses of Anna's purse. Yoh sat there lamely, staring at the purse as though his gaze had the power to recall the kerchief, or perhaps recant his words. Then he sighed, turned toward the window and, working from his dim reflection, began picking off the blood.

Yoh gave a start when he heard Anna's voice break the silence. "You're never going to get it all off like that," Anna said disdainfully. Her hand went inside her purse again, this time in search of her mirror.

It was an embarrassing thing to accept from her, but he was grateful for the offer. Yoh felt foolish holding the small round mirror before himself. It was dusted with a light coating of some sort of makeup that smelled faintly of wax and left light tan smudges on his fingertips. "Ick! It's getting makeup all over my hands!"

"Yeah? Well, you're getting dried blood all over my mirror. Tit for tat."

"What do you even need it for?"

"Huh?"

"Like, on the set, they need to make us look just right before they roll the cameras. Marco practically lives in the dressing room. But you don't need any of that crap. So what's with the makeup? Obviously you don't have any need for it."

Anna was silent for awhile. She simply watched Yoh as he tilted the mirror and did his best to rub off the dried blood. Apparently her lack of response didn't bother him, or else it went unnoticed. She sipped water from her bottle. Finally she licked her lips and spoke.

"Are you...saying I'm pretty?"

"No," Yoh said, distracted by a stubborn spot of blood on his chin. "Pretty doesn't do you justice."

The mirror's tilting stopped. Yoh froze with one hand in midair and the other with two fingers poised on his chin. Anna took this in stride. "Yoh...I can never trust you with any of my secrets. You're proving to me that you can't even keep your own."

"No...I...meant...uh, it was an insult! I meant to say it the other way around."

"But that's okay," Anna continued, as if he hadn't spoken at all—and for all the good it did, he may as well not have. "I may never need to tell you. Because actions speak louder than words."

She took another sip of water, then drizzed some onto her handkerchief. The water darkened the cloth to a crimson. "Why trust reflections," she asked, prying the mirror from Yoh's frozen grasp, "when I'm right here?"

The wet cloth felt clammy and cold against Yoh's face, but Anna's scrubbing was gentle yet effective. The kerchief tickled at his cheeks before wiping away that stubborn spot on his chin.

Then it danced upon his lips for several seconds—odd, because his lips had been clean for some time. Anna traced his lips with her finger deliberately. He thought of the water bottle, which had moments ago been upon her lips—

An indirect kiss!

"That...that's the last of the blood stains," Anna said, but not before swabbing his lips once more.

Is she doing that on purpose? Does she realize, or am I reading too much into this? But before he could make any sense of it, the train car doors slid open.

"Just in time, too," Anna said, her voice excited yet betraying nothing. "Well, Yoh, the night is young and we have arrived."

The blood had just been cleaned off his face, but more was rushing to his head to take its place. He felt dizzy—from confusion mostly; he was excited, but still didn't know if he had any reason to be. He wouldn't have a chance to sort it out, either. He saw himself exit the train, but not because he wanted to. He looked at his arm—it had been tugged through the door—and saw, clamped around his wrist, five slender fingers and a smooth palm...

"Don't just stand there!" Anna implored, eyes twinkling. "Let's see where this night takes us!"

To be continued