4 - Last Minute Accomodations

Sho set down a six-pack on the coffee table with a heavy clank.

"Don't do that." Kyoko frowned. She might be disoriented, and this might be Sho's apartment, but an innate part of her still cared about preserving the furniture. But Sho was already busy cracking open a beer as he settled down on the floor in front of the couch.

"D'you want one?"

"I'm underage, remember? So are you, by the way."

"Suit yourself. But nobody tells Fuwa Sho what he can and can't do," the singer added pridefully. He tilted his head back and chugged almost half the can, then let out a loud burp and a satisfied sigh.

"Gross."

He ignored her comment and took another sip of his beer, going out of his way to turn towards her when he burped again.

"Is this how it's going to be?" Kyoko said crossly.

"What? Did you think we're gonna sit around and have a deep heart-to-heart?" Sho sneered.

"Yeah, because you're such a good shoulder to cry on," she said sarcastically.

"A lot of girls would pay money to cry on my shoulder," Sho said. "But my shirt is expensive. I wouldn't want you getting snot all over it."

"I'd tell them not to waste their money," Kyoko said flatly.

Sho had no response. He was crap with tears and they both knew it. He downed the rest of his beer in silence and then stood. Time for bed, the musician decided. He could deal with everything else tomorrow. He showed Kyoko the guest room, muttering something about sheets before he retreated down the hall to his own bedroom and promptly shut the door.

«×»«×»«×»

The first thing Ren did immediately when the plane landed was pull out his cellphone. He waited impatiently for his phone's service to recognize the continent change and pick up on the nearest service tower. It felt like ages passed before he had signal.

Ren had plenty of messages, but none of them were from the person he wanted. He dialed Kyoko and waited impatiently, hoping she would pick up. He got her voicemail. Ren couldn't help his disappointment, even though rationally he knew that with the time difference it was the middle of the night. The phone beeped.

"Mogami-san," Ren said. He cleared his throat quickly. "It's me. Sorry to call so late; the plane just landed. I'm— I wanted to see you before I left, but I didn't get the chance…" Ren trailed off. This wasn't going how he wanted. "I hope you'll give me a call. I know we left things… I tried to see you before I left," Ren said, hoping he didn't sound too desperate. He just wanted her to call him back. He could threaten, or tell her she had to as his kohai, but what he wanted was for her to call him because she wanted to. Ren swallowed. "I hope… that I'll hear from you soon, Mogami-san. Call me."

«×»«×»«×»

It was just going to be one night, Kyoko told herself. But the next day, crowds were still lingering around the Daruma-ya. Sho sent Shoko over to the restaurant to pack Kyoko a bag (and to pick up a few side dishes for him, while she was at it. The okami-san smiled and gave them to the manager for free.) Kyoko protested when Shoko dropped off a suitcase of clothes and her toiletry kit.

"But what—" Kyoko began.

"It's fine. You're not in the way or anything. Honestly, I forgot I even had a guest room. I was gonna make you sleep on the couch."

It was a joke, but Kyoko didn't laugh. She probably thought he was serious. Inwardly, Sho winced. That kinda hurt. Apparently in her mind, he was a total bastard. Well, if Sho was being honest, if he hadn't had a guest room he would have made Kyoko stay on the couch. There was no way he'd give her his room— he wasn't that nice. Still, he didn't feel he had done anything to deserve the glare she was giving him.

"What?" The singer demanded.

"Idiot!" Kyoko barked. "I'm worried about the press!"

"Why would they bother looking here? They already found the restaurant," Sho pointed out.

"But—"

"A lot of celebrities live in this building so security is really tight and good about privacy. I've never had a problem before. Besides," Sho added in overly-magnamious tones, "friends are supposed to help each other out, right?"

"We're not friends," Kyoko primly corrected the singer. "We're previous childhood acquaintances turned professional rivals."

"That's a mouthful."

"You've never been my friend, Shotaro," Kyoko declared, crossing her arms.

"That's not fair." Sho cleared his throat. "Maybe I haven't always been the best—" he ignored her snort"—but I've always been your friend."

He'd probably meant to complain, but there was a squeak of tension in Sho's voice that Kyoko recognized instantly. It happened any time the singer was actually trying to be sincere. Which was… Kyoko didn't know, exactly. A hundred long-buried emotions bubbled up to the surface of her consciousness and Kyoko had to slam the lid back down as she looked at him warily.

"I mean, it's not like you have anyone else, right?" Sho pointed out, defaulting back to his usual callousness.

"That's not something a good friend would say."

"I didn't say I was good at it— just that I was here." Sho's smile was back to his usual obnoxious smirk. "But since you're here, maybe you could help me get better."

"I'm too busy to give you lessons, Shotaro. Especially when I know how bad you are at studying," Kyoko said crossly, even as she felt herself wanting to smile. She schooled her face into a disapproving frown, like the one Sho's mother always gave him when he showed his test scores.

"Yeah, but this time I care about the result," Sho mumbled, looking away suddenly.

"Did you say something?"

"I said don't underestimate the great Fuwa Sho!" Sho proclaimed, striking a pose like some comic book hero.

Kyoko snorted again, waving a hand at him as if to say yeah, yeah, as she headed down the hall to the guest room with her suitcase.

«×»«×»«×»

The okami-san was glad to hear from Kyoko when the actress called. She'd been mildly concerned when she'd heard about the incident in the news, but the restaurant proprietress hadn't fully grasped the scope of the problem until the Daruma-ya was flooded with hopeful gossip columnists and their photographers. The okami-san waved off Kyoko's attempts at apologizing. It had actually been good for business, since the Taisho insisted that the restaurant was for paying customers, not loitering, and the Taisho was not a man to be argued with. The okami-san had mostly been worried about her young boarder finding a safe place to stay for the night. She'd been relieved when Sho's manager had shown up the next morning and relayed the situation while the two packed Kyoko an overnight bag.

"I didn't realize you'd grown up together," the okami-san said cheerfully into the receiver. "How nice to have some time with your friend!"

"I'm not—"

"No worries about coming back to work directly, you hear me? I'll let you know when things calm down around here."

"But I—"

"No buts," the okami-san tutted. "Kyoko-chan, we just want you to be safe. Don't worry about us. Oh, and I packed your friend a few extra dishes, too. He really seemed to like the eggplant when he was over for dinner the other night—"

"You really don't have to—"

"Don't worry! It's no trouble at all," the okami-san continued blithely. "Alright, I have to get back— take care of yourself!"

"Yes, thank you. Please tell the Taisho that I—"

"Of course, of course, I'll tell him you say hello! Bye-bye!"

The older woman hung up cheerfully, leaving Kyoko staring at her cellphone. She'd been worried that Ren's fans would come after the Daruma-ya somehow, by boycotting or showing up to be awful customers or leaving terrible reviews online. Kyoko let out a sigh of relief that her landlords hadn't sold her out to the tabloids or thrown her belongings onto the street. She wished she could go back and help out, but she also knew that the best thing to do was for her to stay far away. At least, until the reporters stopped sniffing around.

Kyoko looked around Sho's guest room, her nose wrinkling. There was nothing wrong with the room, of course, it was perfectly nice — though perhaps not quite as nice as another guest room that sprung to mind. The only problem with the current room was that it was inside Shotaro's apartment, which was obviously the very last place on earth Kyoko ever wanted (or expected) to be. And yet, here she was. She looked down at the bag that Shoko had brought her and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

She couldn't possibly stay, right? There was no way she could stay. Even when he wasn't being deliberately obnoxious, Sho's usual arrogance was enough to drive her up a wall. She had no idea how she used to put up with it, how she'd found it charming. Every time he gave her that smirk, Kyoko was torn between wanting to strangle the singer and wanting to tear her hair out for ever liking him in the first place. If they were left alone together, it would be a bloodbath. If she had to stay here with him, she'd go insane. Kyoko picked up her duffel bag and turned around, only to notice Sho standing in the open doorway.

"Going somewhere?" He drawled. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning against the doorway, obviously posed in a way he thought looked cool.

"Get out of the way."

"Don't be an idiot."

"Don't call me an idiot, moron!"

"Don't call me a moron when you're the one being stupid!" Sho yelled. "Where are you gonna go, huh?"

"I can get a hotel," Kyoko said tersely.

Sho scoffed. "You're gonna have to book somewhere nice if you don't want to worry about them leaking it to the press." He threw her a look, waiting. "Can you afford it?"

"I'll manage," she said, hoisting the duffel bag onto her shoulder.

"Stop being such a martyr," he said. He had the gall to roll his eyes.

"I'm not being a martyr!"

"Yes you are. God, you're so dramatic."

"Look who's talking!" Kyoko sputtered indignantly.

"I'm not being dramatic, I'm being reasonable, so just shut up and listen," Sho said. "Just stay here. I won't charge you rent, and you'll be safe from the press— it's not like I'm going to out you and get myself dragged into your mess."

Kyoko narrowed her eyes at the singer and gave him a look. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Actually making a point. It's like you've actually been thinking." A shiver ran up Kyok's spine. "It's creeping me out."

"I'm going out of my way to do you a favor here, y'know," Sho said, unperturbed. "A normal person would say thank you."

Kyoko was torn. It went against every impulse to not throw herself on the floor in a heap of gratitude. She would have done so for anyone else without hesitation. But this was Sho, and hell would freeze over before she bowed her head or thanked him for anything. She stood for a moment, weighing her options. Sho stood in front of her, still leaned up against the doorframe in his obnoxious pose. He grinned with satisfaction when Kyoko finally gave in and her bag dropped to the carpet with a soft thud.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" Sho said smugly.

Kyoko grit her teeth. "I can't tell if you're trying to be a jerk or it just comes naturally."

Sho gave her his best shit-eating grin. "Why not both?"

He turned and left, leaving Kyoko alone in the guest room once again. The teen glanced at her phone on the bed, then her eyes darted away. She picked up the duffel bag at her feet and began to unpack, doing her best to stretch out the task to take up the most amount of time she could possibly get. She unfolded and then re-folded each article of clothing, laying everything carefully in a drawer in the dresser. She didn't glance back at her cellphone, but she could feel its presence behind her, almost like the phone was watching her. Her movements slowed down even more, and Kyoko thought about re-folding all her socks. Eventually, however, there was nothing else she could do, and she had to admit to herself that she was done.

Kyoko turned around and squared her shoulders as she walked over and picked up her phone. The little alert message was still there. Kyoko had woken up to see that she had a voicemail. Once she'd seen the number, she'd put the phone down. But while she'd done her best to delay, she was now out of plausible excuses.

Kyoko hit play. When she finished listening, she hit the button to play the message again. It wasn't a very long message. Kyoko bit her nail while she tried to calculate what time it was in California. It was probably early evening there, not too late to call. But what would she say? Kyoko had no idea. What did Ren want? Was he going to yell at her for not coming with him? She didn't want to know, but she also didn't want to live in the awful suspense of not knowing, so the only thing to do was steel herself and dial.

It rang four times and Kyoko was already thinking about whether or not to leave a voicemail when she heard a rather breathless greeting.

"Hello?"

"Um, good evening," Kyoko said hesitantly.

"Hi, Kyoko-chan," Ren's manager said brightly. "So nice to hear from you!"

"I— I'm sorry, did I call the wrong number?" Kyoko asked.

"No, no. I have Ren's cell at the moment — he's in the middle of a screen test," Yashiro explained. "He told me to pick up if you called. Just a moment, I'll poke my head in and see if—"

"What?" Kyoko panicked. "No, no, you can't!"

"But he told me to—"

"I'm so sorry for interrupting your busy schedule! Please tell Tsuruga-san I'll call him back!"

Kyoko hung up quickly, before the manager could do anything as sacreligious as interrupt Ren in the middle of a screen test. Briefly, she looked at her phone and wondered if she should shut it all the way off, as if doing so might somehow prevent the Great Evil that was Ren taking a personal call in the middle of work.

She decided the best thing for her mind would be to do something else, so Kyoko headed to the office. There was always an endless supply of paperwork to be done at LME; someone would have a use for her. Shoko made sure the actress called her agency and requested a pick-up from Sho's luxury apartment complex instead of the Daruma-ya.

"Don't you have work to do?" Kyoko asked pointedly as she picked up her tote bag.

"No," came the one word reply from the couch, where Sho was sprawled horizontal and flicking through the channels.

"Sho's schedule doesn't start until later," Shoko said, attempting to smooth over the conversation.

"The doorcode's my birthday," Sho called as Kyoko was putting on her shoes. He sat up on the couch, enough to make eye contact. "I'll be back late, so don't wait up."

"I wasn't going to."

"Like, really late," Sho continued.

"I'm not going to sit around and wait for you, Shotaro." Kyoko's voice was flat and she pointedly ignored him, bowing to Shoko briefly before she left, the front door of the apartment closing behind her with a quiet fwoosh.