Against All Odds
Chapter Two
"There's just one thing about your book that annoys me, Ran."
He knew it. From the start he knew Ken was going to butcher his story. He'd heard the horror stories from other novelists in the past. Ran didn't mind constructive criticism and helpful ideas from people he was already close to, which was few. Ken did not, by no stretch of the imagination, fall into that small circle of people.
"And what would that be?" Ran continued to scribble incoherent doodles on the notepad lying in his lap.
From the very moment he had awoken, somehow he knew he was in for trouble. It was only the first day and already he was regretting his decision to allow Ken a week with him and his novel.
Luckily, for Ken that is, he had shown up on Ran's doorstep right on time. Ken had brought with him a laptop and a few manila folders stuffed hastily with unidentifiable papers. Surprisingly enough, Ken had got right down to business, instantly booting up the laptop and beginning some speculations about how to start off the script.
But Ran really had no interest in anything Ken had to say. He knew very well that any ideas the screenwriter could have would be utter nonsense. He was just biding his time, waiting for the week to be up so that he could shove it all in Ken's face, and tell him to get packing.
So he had led Ken into the living room, snatched up a pen and notepad, and began scribbling away. Most of Ken's talking had become banter to his ears, shoved away to the recesses of his mind. But of course, the moment Ken even mentioned there being something "wrong" with his book, the writer side of Ran that constantly sought a pleasing reaction to his work spoke up.
"I think it could really use some humor." Ken looked up from his laptop, balancing it across his legs that were leisurely propped up on the coffee table.
Ran glanced across the room, his scowl firmly in place. "I'm not very good with humor."
Ken leaned deeply into the armchair he was occupying adjacent from where Ran sat on the couch. He propped his elbow upon the armrest, resting his chin inside his palm.
"Surely you jest," he smiled teasingly at Ran, perfectly aware of how annoyed the novelist was becoming. If he was searching for empty compliments, he sure wouldn't get them from Ken. He was known to be brutally honest to a fault.
Ran ceased his doodling, pointing menacingly at Ken with the tip of his pen. "Let's get one thing perfectly clear, Hidaka-"
Ken shook his head, frowning. "I already told you, it's just Ken," he interrupted. "Let's get that perfectly clear."
Ran was rapidly losing patience and his sense of humor with the man, not that he had much of a sense of humor in the first place. By calling Ken by his surname, he found it gave him a feeling of distance between them. If he had to resort to calling him "Ken," he was afraid it would bring a sense of familiarity, something he was trying to avoid above all. Ken was already much too friendly and open for Ran's likings, and he was hoping to maintain a strictly professional relationship between him and the screenwriter. The last thing Ran needed in his life was a new acquaintance, friend. Ken's persistence in calling him by his first name was not helping the cause.
However, he had a strong inclination that arguing with Ken would just lead to frustration and anger. He already got the impression that Ken was the stubborn type. Yet, so was he, himself. Ran didn't want to lock horns so early in the week, so it was better just to appease the other man and be done with it.
"OK, Ken-" he gritted out.
"See? Isn't that much better?" Ken grinned amiably.
Ran resisted the urge to growl. Better? He didn't think so. It was fairly obvious that Ken was the type who if given an inch, took a mile.
And probably built a condo on it.
"Better," he regarded Ken's smiling face with distaste, "would be if this terrible nightmare was over, and I was back in my den, alone, writing on a new book," he said cynically, hoping to put Ken in his place.
"If I didn't know you better, Ran, I would swear you didn't like me," he huffed, managing to maintain a straight face.
Ran stood abruptly, towering over Ken ominously. "You don't know me," he said looking down at Ken over his nose.
Ken's face fell slack, his eyes suddenly appearing soft and luminous as he gazed up at Ran. Ran blinked, noticing for the first time how utterly deep and soul-searching Ken's eyes appeared. It was as if Ken could see inside him merely at will. The sheer thought of it was enough to make Ran take an unconscious, retreating step backwards.
"But I'd like to," Ken said softly, all smiles and guises broken.
For some reason, Ran thought it to be the first serious thing Ken had spoken since they met.
Ken blinked, and it was as if the spell was broken. Ran shook his head slightly, rattling his brain back into motion. What was he thinking? Ken actually wanting to get to know him? Ridiculous.
Ran eased back down onto the edge of the couch, his initial point remembered. "I don't want the dialogue tampered with. Or any other part of the book, for that matter," he said staring blankly at the empty fireplace on the wall in front of him.
Ken raised his finger in the air, "I don't tamper, I temper." He stressed the last word slowly.
Ran's shoulders slumped, his face falling into his hands. "Are you a plague from God?" His voice was strained and muffled from between long fingers.
Ken opened his mouth, fully ready to retort, when he was interrupted by the sound of car doors outside.
Ran's hands fell, his face turning upward. "Maybe God's not against me after all."
Ken rolled his eyes at the over dramatics. "Does someone else live here?" He folded up his laptop and sat it on the coffee table.
Ran watched Ken stretch lazily, his arms reaching high above his head as his back arched off the chair. Ken's body-clinging shirt rose slightly, a fraction of taut, defined abdominal muscles peeking out.
So Ken worked out.
A cut ridge that ran along Ken's hips slipped into view.
Frequently worked out.
Ran blinked, turning away before he could fully realize what he had just been doing. Ken's question finally reached his brain.
"No." Then he re-thought the question. "Yes."
"Either someone else lives here or they don't, Ran. It can't be both." Ken reached back behind himself, rubbing at the back of his neck to work out the kinks.
"I know that," Ran bristled. He had just temporarily forgotten about his sister. He wasn't quite used to the new… arrangements.
"Afraid of being embarrassed by your live-in girlfriend?" Ken teased, raising an eyebrow suggestively. He thought it could very well be true. After all, he didn't really know Ran's marital status.
Ran's reply died out before it could be voiced as the front door swished open, revealing a dark-haired young girl and a blue-eyed man behind her.
Ken turned in his chair to get a better look. It was the girl from the newspaper clipping!
"It looked like rain," the man behind her said as he ushered her through the door, "so we decided to leave the park early." The man, who Ken thought didn't look much over nineteen, began slipping the little girl out of her coat, seemingly unaware that there was a visitor in the house. "She said she wasn't hungry and didn't want to stop for ice cream."
"No ice cream?" Ken said leaning over the back of the armchair.
The little girl's eyes darted up, suddenly aware of the new comer. Her eyes were hollow, Ken thought, and her face the perfect picture of sadness. He smiled sweetly at her, hoping she would smile back. No such luck.
"Hello," the man behind her said slowly, hanging her coat in the closet. His voice was serene and melodic, his eyes large and expressive.
"Hi," Ken said back, rising from the chair to greet them at the door. He heard Ran sigh behind him and the sound of his feet shuffling against the floor as he trailed behind.
"Hidaka Ken." Ken extended his hand to the other man.
"Tsukiyono Omi," he said warmly, shaking Ken's hand with a broad, friendly smile.
Ken squatted down in front of the girl, tilting his head with an open grin. "And who is this pretty young lady who didn't want ice cream?"
The girl briefly peeked over Ken's shoulder, probably at Ran, and then looked down shyly. "Aya," she said quietly, wringing her hands in front of her nervously.
"Nice to meet you, Aya." Ken held out his hand to her in the same fashion he had Omi. He learned long ago it made children feel good to be treated like grown-ups now and then.
Aya stared at Ken's large hand, slowly rising her arm to shake it, her little palm fitting delicately inside his grasp. "Nice to meet you," she echoed with a soft voice, seemingly wary of the situation.
Ken held on to her hand, his fingers slipping around her wrist in a loose hold. "Do you not like ice cream, Aya?"
"It's… I wasn't hungry," she reiterated Omi's earlier statement, her eyes peeking at Ken from underneath her fringe of hair.
"Aya," Ran finally spoke up from behind Ken, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "You can't keep skipping meals. It's not healthy."
The girl's head drooped ashamedly, turning away from Ran.
Ken glanced briefly over his shoulder up at Ran, then turned back to Aya, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over her pulse.
"Maybe it's too cold for ice cream, right Aya?" She turned back to Ken, her free hand reaching up to tug anxiously on her braid. "What's your favorite food?" Ken said tenderly, hoping he was going in the right direction with his questions.
"Pizza," Aya said a little louder than before.
"Oh, American food, huh? You know what, Aya?" Ken said, leaning in to the girl as if he was divulging the most well-kept secret of the century. She shook her head, eyes slowly becoming alight with a child's interest.
"I make the best pizza in Tokyo," Ken said softly, nodding his head to emphasize his words. The little girl's eyebrows instantly rose, her curiosity piqued.
"Really?"
"Really," he agreed. "And I'll make a deal with you," he stood slowly, still holding the girl's tiny hand within his tanned fingers.
"If you go in there," Ken tilted his head towards the entrance to the kitchen, "and let Ran or Omi fix you some lunch, and you eat every bite, I promise to make a pizza for you sometime this week."
Aya smiled genuinely, and Ken almost missed the gasp that came from Ran's mouth behind him.
"Promise?" She said, tugging on Ken's pinky finger.
"Promise." He tugged back. "But you have to eat every, single bite. No cheating," he playfully tapped the end of her nose with the tip of his finger.
"OK," she approved, her smile still in place. Aya's fingers latched onto the hem of Omi's shirt, pulling him off in the direction of the kitchen. Omi, looking quite shaken, looked over his shoulder for his entire trek across the living room, his eyes huge and surprised as he glanced back at Ken.
Ken, looking like the cat who caught the canary, turned to Ran, wondering why he, too, had a similar look of astonishment across his face.
Ran blinked, seeming as though he was looking through Ken and out into an unknown void. "She hasn't smiled since…" Ran blinked again, his eyebrows rising another notch as he turned his gaze to Ken. "And you got her to eat…" he murmured, still feeling a bit disorientated.
Ken shrugged, walking back towards the furniture. "You act like it's hard or something," he said, flicking some hair out of his eyes with a chesire grin.
Ran stared at the place where Aya had previously stood, his insides turning and fluttering with a strange feeling.
Just who was Hidaka Ken?
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"Thank you," Ken said, taking his tea from Omi.
"So," Omi started, leaning in over the kitchen counter towards Ken's direction, "how are you putting up with the Ice Prince?"
Ken almost sputtered in mid-sip. "Ice Prince? Aren't you his boyfriend?"
Omi rocked back on his heels, his eyes as large as saucers. "Boyfriend?!" He squeaked, his voice rising three octaves and almost causing Ken to drop his teacup.
"I'll take that as a no," Ken said, free hand rubbing at his assaulted ear.
Omi smiled apologetically, "Sorry. It's just that… what gave you that idea?"
Ken shrugged, scooting his stool closer in to the counter. "I just figured, since you were watching Aya, and didn't knock when you entered…"
Omi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Aya isn't our kid or anything like that." He walked across the kitchen, opening a cabinet up high. "I'm the nanny so to speak. I just take care of her for Ran." Omi rose to his tiptoes, searching far back in the cubboard.
"Oh, I see."
"Aya's his little sister," he said in between pushing and shoving things around on the shelf.
Ken had figured that much from the newspaper clipping, but it was relieving to finally have it confirmed. He figured he would have to put the rest of the puzzle pieces that was Fujimiya Ran together by himself.
Omi's hand finally emerged, brandishing a yellow box of Pocky. He pulled out a stick, shoving it in between his lips.
"Want some?" He said around the stick.
Ken made a face. "No thanks. Almond is not my flavor."
Omi closed up the box, returning it to the cabinet. "He keeps chocolate and strawberry up here, too."
Ken raised his hand, declining, "I'm fine. Really."
"Suit yourself." Omi shut the cupboard door, walking over to where Ken sat to pull up a stool.
"How do you know Ran," Ken questioned in between sips of tea. He found it strange that someone like Ran closely associated with someone like Omi. They seemed complete opposites- residing on two different levels. And besides that, Omi seemed a little young, not just on the outside.
"I met him through Youji."
"Kudou?" Ken blinked, staring at Omi over the rim of his cup. He frowned. Something was nagging at the back of his mind…
"Yea, Ran and I met at one of his book-" Omi was cut off by Ken's sudden laughter. "What?" He said, his eyebrow arching as Ken held his side and giggled. His amusement started to roll out in waves as he teetered dangerously upon the wooden stool.
"You…" Ken tried to say in between gulps of air, "you're Omittchi!" He burst out in laughter again, his forehead resting against the counter as he slumped forward.
Omi looked around frantically, making sure Ran hadn't returned from tucking Aya in for a nap. "Shhh! Do you want Ran to hear you?!" He lightly smacked Ken on the arm.
Ken's breaths came in big heaves. "Ran… doesn't know?"
"No…" Omi looked over his shoulder one last time, paranoid. "Wait a minute, how do you know?"
"I overheard Youji on the phone one day when he called me to his office." Ken wiped away the tears of laughter that had collected in the corner of his eyes. "He's so sweet to you… Omittchi." Ken snorted, trying hard to restrain the giggles from erupting again.
Omi blushed, his eyes darting downward in embarrassment. "Why is it so funny?"
Ken smiled, "Sorry. It's just, I would have never guessed. No offense, but I wouldn't have taken you for Youji's type. Not to mention I didn't know he was gay."
"Bi," Omi corrected, pulling at his sleeves anxiously, stretching them over his hands.
Ken hiccupped a large breath, wrapping his arm around Omi's shoulders. He leaned in close. "So why can't Ran know?"
"Well," Omi leaned in, too, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't really know what Ran thinks of… those sorts of relationships. And I don't want to give him a reason for me to not see Aya-chan. Ran really needs me right now."
Ken put that away for further investigation. Why didn't Ran take care of his sister himself? And why did Ran "really need" Omi's help?
"So what you're saying, is that Ran may be a gay-basher?" Ken questioned softly.
Omi leaned back, propping his elbow on the counter and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "I don't know about that, but he's straight."
Ken picked his teacup back up, gulping down the last bit. "That's funny. I would have guessed more along the lines of asexual."
It was Omi's turn to have a giggle fit.
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Ken stood beside the window, watching as Omi car pulled out of the drive.
"I like him," he said idly, knowing that Ran could hear him from the couch.
"He likes you, too," Ran replied dryly. "Apparently everyone likes you."
Ken turned away from the glass as Omi's car disappeared down the road, his arms coming up to cross his chest.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
Ran snorted. "Nothing." He reached over to the coffee table, retrieving his pen and notepad to start scribbling again.
"For your sake I hope you weren't lying to my sister. She really thought you were serious." He said it so matter-of-factly, like he could have been commenting on the weather rather than throwing out the hidden threat that laid within.
Ken straightened, his chin rising defiantly. "I was telling the truth. And you're welcome."
Ran's fingers began to grip the pen so tightly they started to blanch white. "I don't need your help, Ken. I can handle myself just fine."
"But can you handle your sister, too?" Ken countered in a low, menacing voice. If he had been a cat, his fur would have been standing on end. Ken hated innocent by-standers, especially children.
Ran jerked his body upright, the pen and pad flying across the room. In a flash he was at Ken's side, the front of his thin shirt bunched within Ran's shaking fingers.
"Dangerous ground, Hidaka," he said in between clenched teeth, his face so close Ken could feel his ragged breathing puffing against his cheek.
Ken just smirked, his head tilting a little. "Dangerous for me, or dangerous for you?" He questioned, and Ran's eyes narrowed to mere slits of angry violet.
A low growl rumbled from deep within Ran's chest, the fingers on his free hand twitching in anticipation of striking Ken right across his smiling face. Only... for some reason, he found he couldn't bring himself to do it. And if he needed any further convincing, the strong pectoral muscles beneath the hand on Ken's chest twitched as they were drawn tight, reminding Ran off just how much power was probably laced within Ken's body.
"Ch'" Ran released the front of Ken's shirt, his eyes closing in an attempt to calm his body.
Ken leaned in even closer, absorbing the few inches of space that was left between them. His hand trailed upward, tugging lightly on one of Ran's eartails.
"Is this the part where we kiss and make up?" Ken batted his eyelashes playfully.
Ran opened one eye, staring cautiously at Ken to make sure he wasn't serious. "Why can't you just let me hate you in peace," Ran murmured, frowning.
Ken laughed, tapping Ran's nose like he did Aya's earlier as he stepped away. "I think that's enough excitement for today. I don't think any more work is going to get done on the screenplay if I stick around longer."
Ran's body sagged in relief. Finally.
Ken picked up his laptop and folders, already making his way towards the door. "Same time tomorrow?" He began slipping into his shoes.
Ran waved his hand, making his way to the couch and flopping down with mental exhaustion. "Whatever," he said tiredly, flinging his arm over his face.
"Aw, does poor Ranny need a nap?"
Ken shut the door a millisecond before he was pelted with a couch cushion.
-------------------------------------------TBC-------------------------------------------
Yes, I consider pizza to be an Americanized food, even though it's from Italy. -_-; I know these first few chapters have been nothing but a bunch of dialogue, but without it you wouldn't know anything about the characters. Just be patient for me while I set up the stage ^_^ Once again, my beta is on vacation so excuse the grammatical errors.
