disclaimer: Skip Beat! is the exclusive creative property of Yoshiki Nakamura.

AN: Man, has it been 8 years already? Time flies when you periodically forget you're a writer. A writer who, you know ... writes?

Let's see if I still got it, shall we?

Chapter Three

The silence left in the wake of Kyoko's question threatened to stretch into eternity as she folded her arms over her chest and looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. And he didn't have the faintest clue how.

... That might have been a step too far.

Kyoko leaned against his refrigerator, eyeing him warily the way a cat might regard anyone other than it's master.

Master?

Kuon blinked. He wondered at his choice of words. Then he found himself wondering how she would respond if he asked her to address him in such a manner. And he wondered, above all, why he would wonder such a thing at all and at a time like this, no less. He felt his neck begin to tingle as heat began to move through his body.

Had that journal entry of hers already begun to wriggle beneath his skin?

Or had these thoughts been there already?

There wasn't time to ponder these questions further as the "cat" in question certainly wasn't purring and flicking her tail at the moment. Rather she was looking him dead in the eye as though he were a mouse about to make the fatal mistake of poking so much as a whisker out of its hiding place. She had the flat, patient look of a creature waiting for the perfect time to extend its claws.

Well ... Kuon Hizuri was many things, but he was no mouse.

"You're so sexy when you go into interrogation mode, Kyoko-chan."

The change from suspicious to scandalized was so lightning-fast that if he had blinked he might have missed it. She hurled herself at him, burying her scarlet face in his chest and clutching the front of his shirt in her fists. An aggravated groan escaped her. He wrapped an arm around her, shaking with laughter.

"Oh, my god, shut up!"

This definitely wasn't the time to get sidetracked, but it flooded him with joy that she had chosen to seek refuge from his (admittedly overbearing) silliness in his arms rather than out of them. The first month or so of their official partnership had been marked by, funnily enough, a kind of cat-and mouse-game. Worried that she might disgust or pester him if she tried to hold his hand or lean on him in any way, Kyoko had more or less refused to do so unless he initiated contact first.

The second he'd caught onto this, Kuon had gone out of his way to basically manhandle the poor girl as often as possible: pulling her into his lap, scooping her up to carry her from one room to another, things like that. Even their semi-nightly tug-of-war over his dishes had begun as a way for him to send two messages loud and clear:

One, that she was very much a wanted presence in his life.

And, two, that if anyone was going to be doing any "pestering", it would undoubtedly be him.

"You just put your hands on the suspect, detective! This really won't play well in court."

"I'm serious!" Kyoko snapped. "That's the first time in person or in print that you've ever mentioned wanting to be anything other than an actor! Why is that?"

He arched an eyebrow at her and watched her blush even harder.

"In print, too? You've scoured enough written publications about me to know a thing like that? Careful, I might actually swoon."

She buried her face back in his chest and groaned again.

"You are so annoying sometimes, do you realize that?"

Kuon smirked. "I can't help it. You're fun to annoy."

"Really though ... is everything okay?"

He exhaled slowly. There it was. A chance, laid out in the open, for him to just come clean and admit to what he'd done. He looked down with every intention of doing so, only to find those doe eyes staring up at him, bright with concern and hero worship.

The words immediately hitched in his throat, and he couldn't have choked them out if he tried. God only knew why. Maybe it was the thought that she wouldn't be in his arms if he told her. For some reason, it seemed utterly crucial that he not let her get too far away, lest he lose her for good. He still had very fresh memories of having to chase her down the hallways of LME to make himself heard. She was much faster than him, so he hardly had a prayer of catching her if she was really in a mind to run from him again.

So Kuon looked at the woman he loved more than life itself and deflected like the coward he was.

"Everything covers a lot of ground, Kyoko-chan," he said gently. "For the time being, we'll just worry about right here and now. Nothing else."

The worry didn't budge from her face. If anything, it only deepened as she peered up at him, searching his eyes for some kind of explanation. He could only hazard a guess as to what she was sensing, but he found himself distracted by her pouting lips. When she worried, she nibbled them practically to death.

Kuon lifted his thumb, traced the curves of of her mouth and wondered if the desire overtaking him was to soothe that bitten flesh or to do the biting himself.

"Ah ... ?"

Her eyelids drifted lower as he traced, her weight sagging against his arm ever so slightly. A telltale sign that she was getting ... distracted in a similar way. Thoughts of her journal passage floated to the surface unbidden. The idea of suddenly springing her own fantasy on her in this moment made him hard.

Well ... harder. He'd been nursing half an erection since they'd stepped into his apartment.

Had he been planning this all along? Without even realizing?

The very idea appalled him, so he knew he wasn't that far gone. He wouldn't do that. It would be the worst possible way to broach the subject.

Still, he knew a capitulation of some sort was in order. So Kuon gave in to a more conventional, but no less urgent, temptation. He let himself fall into those golden eyes and hoisted her into the air, making her yelp. By sheer reflex, Kyoko's legs wrapped around his waist and her arms locked around his neck. He smirked at her shocked expression and proceeded to stroll out of the kitchen while she sputtered indignantly.

"What now? Where are we going?!"

"A faraway land," he quipped gruffly. "You may know it as my bedroom."

"You - !"

Whatever she was about to say was swallowed up by his kiss. Her arms tightened instantly around him in response, and he couldn't help the primitive satisfaction it gave him. Nor could he help the groan he let out when her tongue began to tentatively search for his.

We really do need to talk, his conscience remarked feebly as he nudged open the bedroom door with one foot and then used his elbow to turn on the amber accent lights that flanked his bed.

We can't put this off forever, the voice prodded him as the two of them tumbled onto the king-sized duvet and began to writhe against one another in a tangle of lips, hips and limbs.

Okay, but really, was as far as the voice got when Kuon came up for air and feasted his eyes on the shapeshifter underneath him, caught mid-transformation between his overly proper girlfriend and a flushed, disheveled siren gazing up at him with half-opened eyes, her tongue savoring the aftermath of their sloppy kiss.

... Another time, perhaps, his conscience conceded before discreetly bowing out.

Her hair fanned out against his dark duvet like a muted flame, her blush complementing the shade so well he leaned down and nuzzled her neck. It was like warming himself by a fire, she was that hot to the touch. She shuddered against him, and in his fevered daze he imagined it was the crackling of that fire.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Kuon growled against her throat.

She turned her head away, the dismissal inherent in the gesture made useless by his tongue swirling down her neck.

"You always say that, Kuon ..."

"It's always true," he rasped. "I try to think of anything else, and there you are."

He poured sweet words into her ear, words he'd stifled for too long in that purgatorial state between when he'd first realized he loved her and when she finally agreed to be with him. She shook against him as he nibbled at the ear he whispered into. It gratified him to know Kyoko shook with anticipation, not fear. That this feverish heat pouring off of her was a fire reserved for him and only him. And that his heavy frame trapped her in place so she couldn't run from the truth in his words. The thought drew an unholy possessiveness closer to the surface, the shame of such a barbaric notion sharpening his arousal.

Kyoko twisted underneath him, her movements both languid and restless. Her hips rocked against his as she begged wordlessly for the semi-clothed release the two of them had nearly perfected in the months since they had begun to get physical.

And even so, she seemed to be holding onto the tail end of her wits by her fingernails, since the next words out of her mouth were:

"Wh ... what were we talking about? We were talking about ... something. Weren't we?"

He chuckled. There was so much he found erotic about Kyoko, and chief among these qualities was her tenacity. He maneuvered so that he was propped up next to her and plunged his right hand into the front of her thermal tights, startling a gasp out of her in the process.

"As soon as you remember what that is," he chuckled, "we'll talk about it. But until then -"

A soft cry escaped her as his fingers slipped inside of her, cutting off her line of inquiry with the finality of a rope snapping its tether.

"I'm listening," he teased, working his fingers in and out with aching slowness. "You were saying ... ?"

She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a smattering of unintelligible gibberish. It sounded vaguely like a plea of some sort because the word "please" was all he could decipher. Kuon kissed her on the side of her forehead and whispered reassuringly that he understood even as he continued to unravel her. Eventually her mouth hung open wordlessly, slack with dumbstruck lust.

A very sick part of him couldn't help but note: He'd gotten her to say "aah", after all.

Kyoko watched the morning sunlight coming through the window and tried to put a word to the feeling she had woken up with. The only way she could describe it was awe, and why not? Immense good fortune could do that, after all. Nevermind that it was the middle of January and would no doubt be very cold outside. Here she was, warm and toasty and with every muscle weighed down with morning grogginess, the remains of post-intimacy languor and six-plus feet of gorgeous, sleepy male.

The sun was somehow prismatic even at this early hour, beaming down on them as though nature itself ordained that she bask in this moment. She tried to, she really did. Duty and work, however, did dictate that she couldn't stay entwined with her lover all day.

Lover.

It still didn't seem real, somehow, even with the two of them pressed so solidly together. Maybe that's why she wasn't panicking yet. The unreality of their union could very well be her salvation at a time like this. A smile began to touch the corners of her lips even as the urge to cry made her eyes begin to itch ever so slightly. That feeling of awe had fled with the last layers of sleep. There was only this bitter sorrow she had come to know too well and the disgust she felt with herself for thinking she had ever escaped it.

It's all over, she thought morosely. Or it will be soon. I thought we had more time ...

She thought back to the night before, wondering what she had missed. Then she thought back to the week leading up to this morning's suspicions, wondering if the signs had begun even earlier than that.

Either way, Kyoko knew the exact moment she had really begun to catch on. Kuon's words from the night before broke through her efforts to keep them down.

"Everything covers a lot of ground, Kyoko-chan. For the time being, we'll just worry about right here and now. Nothing else."

Kyoko squeezed her eyes shut. Not a goodbye, so much as a precursor to a goodbye. A distinction without distinction, really.

So he didn't want to talk about it or think about it. She couldn't blame him. She didn't want to think about it either, whatever the hell it was. Unfortunately, Kyoko was not only thinking about it, her mind had already begun to seize on a terrible conclusion.

Some part of her knew it had to end. But not now! Not like ... not like this. Not with the two of them so happy, with so much to look forward to!

I guess I knew this day would have to come ...

The thought of Ren Tsuruga giving up acting was inconceivable. The thought of Kuon Hizuri leaving Japan ... was too much for her heart to take.

Kyoko's common sense made a valiant effort to stomp down the very idea of such a thing happening. He hadn't said as much. He hadn't actually said the words. There was still a very good chance that she had jumped to the wrong conclusion, that the man she loved wasn't done with acting, done with Japan and done with her.

She forced herself to breathe evenly.

"Your mind is racing right now, I can tell."

She flinched and looked up. His eyes weren't open, but he was definitely awake.

"I ... I'm thinking of all the stuff I have to do today."

He sighed dramatically. "You, Mogami-san, do not have proper respect for the afterglow."

She giggled at his chiding, then felt her heart lurch. Even now, it was like there was nothing wrong. But everything was wrong! She couldn't tell if it was love or fear churning her stomach right now, but it was obvious the time for lazing in the sun had passed. She felt the cold beginning to close in on their little oasis, and it was time to move.

With the dexterity forged from years of dutiful early-morning routine and stunt training, Kyoko proceeded to duck out of her lover's arms and roll out of bed in one smooth motion. Kuon squinted at her, his arms still holding the space she had occupied not two seconds before.

The two began to dress in silence, going about their morning rituals. Taking turns using the restroom, brushing their teeth, washing up. The silence dragged on, comfortable for Kuon and absolute agony for Kyoko. She had her bag and jacket in hand and was hovering at his bedroom door. He was looking for his houseshoes, always misplaced because he insisted on kicking them off haphazardly.

A terrible tenderness ripped through her at the sight of Japan's number one celebrity bumbling about, muttering about his slippers like a confused old man. She choked it down, schooling her face into a casual mask before she made one last attempt to get the truth. She took a deep, quiet breath and shut her eyes.

"K ... K-Kuon, are you ... that is, will you be ... leaving? Is it time for you to leave?"

She opened her eyes after she got the words out. God help her, the man was on the floor peeking under his bed for those shoes.

"Why?" he asked. "Do you need something from the store?"

"N-no, I mean, like ... leaving. This," she clarified weakly, gesturing vaguely at the room around them despite meaning something much bigger than that.

He stared blankly at her, utterly flummoxed. "Ah ... I'm sure I'll have to leave at some point, but ... I live here."

But for how long? she wanted to shout. Tell me, how long before we have to say goodbye?

"No, I mean ... " The words trailed off into nothing. She couldn't say it. It would feel too real if she said it. And it already felt entirely too real.

"Nevermind. I'll see you later, okay?"

Kuon's eyes narrowed in speculation, and she felt that scrutiny as surely as though he'd reached his hands out to grab her. He didn't wear his contacts when they were home alone together. Those green eyes had the look of a tiger about them, gleaming at her as surely as they would through jungle foliage. Even now, she felt her legs threatening to give out, and that would surely be the end of it.

"Kyoko-chan ... ?"

No!

"I-I'm late already! I have to go now!"

Kyoko raced out of the room before he could say another word, clearing the entryway in record time. Just as she was boarding the elevator it struck her that this was the first time since they'd gotten together that they had parted without a goodbye kiss. The urge to run back to his apartment was almost too strong to resist, but she had already reached the ground floor by the time she was really considering it.

Don't cry over that, that's so stupid, please DON'T, she reasoned with herself even as the tears began to well in earnest. It was no use. Because as appalled as she was by her own behavior, Kyoko couldn't help but think that if he really was leaving, those were not moments she should be taking for granted.

Who knew how many more moments there would be?

How long did they have left?

It's often said that nature abhors a vacuum. And the agony Kyoko Mogami felt was simply a black hole of a vacuum that could not stand.

The next day there was a lull prior to shooting, during which time Kyoko had sought out and beseeched the only counsel she could trust in her time of need.

Around the fifteenth minute of Kyoko's beseeching, said counsel finally put her foot down.

"Stop, STOP! Just ... stop. Let me think. God."

Kotonami "Moko-san" Kanae rubbed her temples, eyes shut in deep concentration. It's past noon, she thought wearily, and somehow it's STILL too early for this nonsense.

The two were seated outside at an open-air cafe, enjoying the unseasonably temperate winter day; just cool enough to need a jacket, but sunny enough to not have to retreat indoors. They'd been seated for all of two minutes when Kyoko had unleashed the mother of all tirades her best friend. It seemed that the avalanche of verbal craziness Kanae had been subjected to over her smartphone just under an hour ago had been only the tip of an enormous iceberg. Said iceberg consisting, as best as she could tell, of a young woman not dealing at all well with a celebrity boyfriend, said boyfriend's (supposedly) eminent flight to a different continent, a full workload, and what would promise to be an ... interesting sex life, to say the least.

Kyoko hadn't really touched on this last element in much detail, except in one or two sporadic outbursts about some questionable dreams she had been having and Ren's (admittedly effective) way of distracting her from questioning his odd behavior of late. She didn't appear to want to go any further into it, outside of noticing and remarking upon it. Not finding it relevant to the rest of this tangled mess, Kanae chose to overlook it.

Indeed, the more Kyoko had talked, the more this simple misunderstanding seemed to have grown into a Gordian knot.

Best to come at this with a sword, then, Kanae decided.

"... Okay ... Let's review the facts."

Kyoko, still very much a pile of animate jelly in her seat, lifted her head an inch off the table - just far enough to release a strangled wail. It sounded (vaguely) affirmative, so Kanae continued:

"Sit up, will you? Alright. Put as simply as possible, Ren Tsuruga is hiding something from you. Something important. And you want to know what it is? Correct?"

The copper-haired pixie sniffled prettily and nodded, all the while dabbing at her face with the handful of brown napkins Kanae had torn out of the container on the table and shoved into her hand shortly after they were seated.

"He's been acting strange," Kanae noted. "To that much I can attest, based on what you've told me and what I've seen for myself. Skulking around, shifty eyes and things like that. Nothing that indicates he's about to pick up and leave the country, mind you."

Kyoko wailed into her napkins again, softly but just loud enough to bring Kanae to another halt in anticipation of a fresh deluge of tears. When they didn't come, she continued.

"Him randomly bringing up wanting to be a doctor before - "

Kyoko blew her nose. Kanae rolled her eyes and soldered onward.

"- does seem very out of character for someone who's only ambition has been to be an actor, so I don't know what that's about. I won't pretend to know what he's struggling with, or if this is anything to do with you, or anything at all. All we need to focus on now is what you're going to do."

Kanae paused here, nodding to the bewildered waiter who spared a few glances at the weeping actress with part of a napkin stuck to her face before placing two plates on the table and leaving.

"Okay," Kanae said, "here's what you're going to do."

The tear-streaked girl came to attention so suddenly that if Kanae were at all inclined to laugh, she certainly would have.

"Nothing. You're not going to do a thing."

Kyoko's mouth fell open in blatant shock.

" ... WHAT?"

"You're going to do nothing, say nothing, show nothing."

"B-but that's - ! He - ! Are you telling me to just let this go?"

Kanae folded her hands primly and pursed her lips. "You're not hearing me. I'm not asking you to let it go. You're not going to let it go, you're not going to move on, you're not going to do any of that. What you're going to do is nothing."

Kyoko answered this declaration with a blank stare.

"Are you an actress or not, Mogami?" she snapped impatiently. "You had better know how to do nothing or you won't get anywhere! Not in this industry, not with that man of yours or life in general!"

It was then that dear Moko-san spotted the change, the spark of comprehension. Her friend began to nod very slowly, more to herself than to Kanae.

"... I'm listening," Kyoko said, eyes narrowed in intrigue. Kanae could see for herself that the implicit understanding of her meaning was beginning to pierce through the despair.

Finally. Kyoko was thinking like an actress and not just a girlfriend.

Good. She was going to need it, for both her own sake and the sake of Kanae's sanity.

"Alright then. Now, here's what 'nothing' is going to consist of ..."

The two girls put their heads together and began to whisper. It was apparent to anyone walking by that games were definitely afoot on this cool afternoon. A plot began to form. Not a big one, or even a particularly elaborate one.

In fact, it was diabolically simple.

Not too shabby for an old-timer, I hope!

I know Moko-san is usually more blunt and straightforward, but I wanted to tap into a more scheming aspect to her character. The only other person I see giving Kyoko this kind of advice is maybe Koga, but I don't see her confessing intimate details to him the way she would Kanae.

We definitely waded into some Kyoko angst territory in the middle there, didn't we? I hadn't really planned to do that, but it just made too much sense: Kyoko's been abandoned so much in her life, I feel like it wouldn't take much for her mind to jump to these kinds of conclusions, especially where Kuon is concerned.

Notice how Kyoko's not even thinking about the journal right now? If Kuon does get around to confessing, I imagine this will come as a huge shock.

I also didn't really set out to make this chapter so long, but once I realized how long it was getting, I just leaned into it. It's not like I don't have time to make up for, right? Again, eight years is s long gap to fill. And if you can believe it, originally this chapter was about two thousand words longer before I realized that it needed to be broken up into new chapters.

Till next time! (Next time won't be eight years this time, I promise! I'm almost done writing and editing Chapter 4 as we speak!)