Happy Monday!

So I decided to take a leaf from some other author's stories and include a "mail bag" section at the end of each chapter! I'll be responding to and answering questions from the 5 most "interesting" reviews each week. I would love to do all of them, but I think after a while, I would get burnt out – so let's just be honest from the start and have low but realistic expectations from lazy ol' me. Haha

A couple of small dissatisfactions with this chapter, so my apologies ahead of time. I think that the POV jumps around too much during the first couple of scenes; but I was too lazy to rework all of it to include all the elements and emotions I wanted D: Please forgive me!

Another possible point of contention is that Nakamura-sensei has YET to announce Sho's father's actual name. So I gave him as strict and important-sounding a name as I could think of – "Daisuke". As much as I'd rather Sensei devote her time and energy to developing Kyoko's character and her relationship with Ren and LESS time on Sho's family… I mean… C'mon, give the guy a name! Same with the Darumaya couple – but I feel like it's just a running joke at this point how these two have gotten this far without proper names.

Enjoy the show!

- K

CH3

- One and a half years prior -

"You're the only one who can do this, Kyoko. I need you."

Sho-chan… She felt sorry that she had doubted him. He was her prince after all!

Sho's whispered plea had echoed in Kyoko's ears as she pranced down the manor's halls to beg the Okami-san to help her get dressed properly. Though Kyoko knew how to put on a formal kimono, she wanted to look perfect for the dinner that night. Also, all of her previous experience had been gained helping other rich young misses get dressed; never actually donning one herself.

Now, oblivious to the Okami-san's worried glances, Kyoko hummed to herself as she adjusted the gilded tortoise-shell pin in her long, black-haired wig. She needed the wig because even though her own hair was long and black also, it was not nearly as long and lusciously full as Mimori's. After all, Mimori's father was rich and she could afford professional hair products, whereas Kyoko was still living off her wages as a servant…

"Kyoko-chan…?" At the okami's quiet voice, Kyoko perked up from her increasingly pitiful train of thought.

"Hai, Okami-san?" Even though the kindly, middle-aged woman was no longer the okami of a restaurant and instead had taken up the position of housekeeper at the Fuwa mansion years ago, Kyoko had continued to address her as such.

Haltingly, the okami tried to voice her concerns aloud. For not the first time, the older woman wished that she and her husband had had children of their own so she could be better prepared for what to tell Kyoko.

"My apologies, Okami-san, but I think the obi is a little loose…"

"Kyoko-chan. Why are you doing this?"

Blinking at the abrupt question, Kyoko said simply, "Because Sho-chan asked me to."

Worried, the graying, wizened woman placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder and looked sadly at the joy that twinkled in her amber eyes.

There was such a thing as professional discretion, a servant complying with a master's wishes unquestioningly, but this was something else. Something about the young master's request was wrong in a hundred ways. Allowing Kyoko-chan to pose as his fiancé? Something was certainly wrong.

But one look at the light blush that painted Kyoko's cheeks and the weightlessness of her step told the astute housekeeper that none of her words would reach her surrogate daughter.

"Okami-san, I am sorry to trouble you, but I believe the obi is still a tad loose."

Sighing heavily, the older woman relented and handed Kyoko two very specifically molded bunches of fabric. "I know, Kyoko-chan. That was on purpose. Nanokura-sama is a bit… heavier on top, after all."

She watched as Kyoko blushed furiously and adjusted her kimono accordingly.

"Oh, Kami-sama, please keep this girl safe," the housekeeper murmured to herself. And heaven help the Fuwa boy if her husband ever heard of this farce…

-x-

"Ren, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Alone in his car, hidden on an abandoned maintenance road in the woods behind Fuwa manor, Ren sighed and tightened the laces on his boots one final time. "Yashiro-san, we went over this with the President. Fewer people means faster times in and out of the manor."

Safe, several cities away in the LME Tactical Room, Yashiro continued to obsessively flip through the manor's hacked camera feed. Ren's insistence on going solo to secure the girl was unnerving. It was very unlike Ren, who always adhered to the rules and policies of the LME unit, which included partners on 90% of missions.

"Does this have anything to do with Rick?"

Shocked, Ren froze. Unconsciously, his hand drifted to the watch on his left wrist before he caught himself. Calmly, he continued his final gear-check. Three tranquilizer syringes. One retractable grappling hook. Two lengths of nylon rope… "Yashiro-san. How many times have I told you to stop digging up my past for your own enjoyment?"

Yashiro's eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. Ren's tech support muttered mostly to himself, "You didn't answer my question, so the answer is, 'yes' – isn't it? You complicated man."

Then Yashiro realized his mic was still on.

Fortunately, Ren was preoccupied, pulling the hood of his black jumpsuit over his dark hair and strapping his gear pack to his back. "Yashiro, what was that? I didn't quite catch that…"

A tad relieved, Yashiro cleared his throat. "Ahem… Ah… nothing… Just…don't forget your gloves. We don't want fingerprints on this one."

Starting to trot toward the brightly lit mansion, Ren caught himself before he scoffed. "You don't forget your gloves, Yashiro-san. We don't want a repeat of the Osaka debacle."

"Ha—i," Yashiro droned flippantly, switching his mic off. He pouted as he reflexively pulled his latex gloves on a little tighter. Low blow, Ren. Low blow.

-x-

Kyoko paused before answering the knock on her door. Taking a deep breath, she thought to herself, 'I am Nanokura Mimori. Rich, entitled, confident… In love with Sho.'

Kyoko's version of Nanokura Mimori flung the door open. "Sho-chan! Have you come to escort Mimori to dinner?" she cried and leapt forward into Sho's shocked embrace.

"Pochiri?!" Sho stumbled back under the force of 'Mimori' and his own astonishment. "What are you doing here? Otou-san told you to–!"

"Sho-chan," Kyoko spoke pointedly at the stunned heir and winked. "Why wouldn't I be in my own guest room?"

"Kyo–?!"

Slim hands flew up to cover Sho's mouth.

Giggling at her prince's surprise, Kyoko removed her hands and placed a slender finger to her lips. Sho, disentangled now, staggered slightly before catching himself and eyeing his childhood friend with a mixture of incredulity and an emotion that Kyoko could not immediately place.

Before she could scrutinize his face further, Sho straightened and cleared his throat. He leveled his usual arrogant gaze at her and jerked his head toward the end of the hall.

"Come on. We're going to be late for dinner, Mimori."

-x-

"Nanokura-ojou-san, we are fortunate to be able to meet the future wife of Fuwa Shotaro tonight. We were previously told you were ill and could not attend," intoned the uptight and spectacled translator. He punctuated his sentence with a small bow. Sitting next to the Japanese translator, a middle-aged American businessman nodded his head eagerly in agreement, although he probably understood nothing that came out of his employee's mouth.

Since English was one of her best subjects at school, Kyoko was fairly certain the original sentence was far too familiar and much less proper than the translator's version. Stifling the urge to switch to English (since Mimori was not as diligent in her studies), Kyoko merely bowed in her seat and murmured demurely in formal keigo, "The pleasure is all mine, Hawkins-san. You are correct, because I was ill earlier this evening; however in my excitement to meet you and your associates, I have found myself feeling much better."

While Mimori may not have been the brightest bulb in the box, Kyoko knew that Sho's fiance had been groomed for years to act politically and politely, as befitted the heiress of a major media conglomerate. Despite her innately critical and forthright personality, Mimori was able to play the part required of her. After all, Fuwa Daisuke-sama had high demands for Sho's future bride, and Mimori would have no one else taking her Sho-chan away from her.

Kyoko had to nudge Sho with her foot. He really needed to stop gaping at her like a beached fish and dribbling his lobster bisque off his spoon and onto the tablecloth. Was it really such a surprise that she could portray a proper ojou-sama after so many years of attending to them in this very dining room?

Shotaro's parents similarly shook off their surprise. Even though they had housed and essentially raised Kyoko since childhood, they had never seen her act like this, especially in such a perfect imitation of 'polite Mimori.'

Daisuke quickly turned the talk to his business partners' flight from America and whether they liked the Western-style food served at the mansion. Hawkins and the other American businessmen answered and in turn asked about the upcoming wedding for the Fuwa heir.

Fuwa Yayoi smiled behind a polite hand and asked if the gentlemen were in a rush to take her one and only son away from her. Two to three years, then they would be wed, she answered cheerfully.

Picking up on the cue, Kyoko smiled and looked dreamily at Sho, but on the inside, her heart was straining painfully.

Trying to force her heartache away, her hand drifted to the small purse, which she had hastily stuffed under her kimono obi. Wishing her bad feelings away, Kyoko also thought about this afternoon when Sho had asked her to pretend to be Mimori. He had asked her something else as well…

It would be ok. Sho-chan had promised. He asked her to go to Tokyo with him, so he could finally fulfill his dream. He had asked her, not Nanokura-san… And after tonight…

"How about Shotaro-bocchan?" the translator asked, devoid of the playfulness of the original speaker. "Do you think he will be ready to take the reins of the biggest ryokan and hotel chain in Japan when you retire, Fuwa-san?"

Sho stiffened beside her, but Kyoko could see right through his calm expression. His hands clenched so tightly beneath the table that his knuckles turned a deathly white.

Daisuke only glanced briefly at his only son before turning back to his meal and stating gruffly, "He will be ready."

The subtly veiled threat was lost in translation, and the Americans continued the conversation light-heartedly. Beside her, Kyoko noticed Sho's nails digging half-moon imprints on his palm.

"Sho-chan…" Kyoko murmured sadly, then quickly tried to school her expression back into Mimori's. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice her slip out of character, because at that moment, the power cut out, submerging the entire dinner in darkness.

Kyoko heard the servants scurrying behind the scenes as Yayoi mused, "Odd… our back-up generator doesn't seem to be working…"

Then, all six of the upper dining room windows simultaneously shattered, and in an instant, chaos reigned.

Everyone seemed to be screaming and yelling. Kyoko heard a clank as something metallic hit the floor, and a heartbeat later, she smelled acrid smoke and felt her eyes and lungs stinging.

Someone was pulling roughly on her kimono sleeve and calling her name.

"Kyoko! Kyoko, come on! We need to get out of here!"

"Sho? Sho-chan!" Kyoko screamed and scrambled to her feet and let Sho pull her past the fleeing tumult of servants and dinner guests, status and decorum forgotten in their mad dash to escape the tear gas pouring into the dining hall. Before Sho yanked her from the room, Kyoko caught sight of several dark figures quickly descending from the broken windows on ropes.

Just as Kyoko cleared the dining room doors, she tripped. Sho tried to pull her to her feet and untangle the hem of her kimono. Behind them, they heard yelling and a series of large crashes. Several people screamed.

"Sho – your parents!"

"There's no time!" Sho snapped and dragged her to her feet. "They're not here for my parents!"

Distracted by her bruised knees and the necessity of sprinting for her life, Kyoko lost the thought that briefly lingered in her mind.

How did he know they weren't there for his parents?

Breathless, she and Sho managed to make it to the kitchen. It was dim, but moonlight filtered in through the window.

Two figures rose out of the darkness. One wielded a large cleaver that gleamed in the scant light.

Elated, Kyoko sprang forward. "Taisho-san! Okami-san! Thank goodness you are both alright."

The elderly matron embraced Kyoko tightly, while her husband stood by, gruff but obviously relieved.

"Good. Now, stay here and stay safe."

Shocked, Kyoko turned around. "Sho-chan? You're not going to stay here? It's too dangerous to be wandering around outside."

Sho ran a frustrated hand through his bleached blonde hair and tossed Kyoko his cell phone in the dark. "I just have… something I need to check on. Call the police and stay hidden."

Before Kyoko could protest, Sho had peeked out the door and was gone.

Keigo – formal Japanese language

MAILBAG:

Aikori Ichijouji – Thanks for your back-to-back reviews! I actually just read both Criminal and Paperwork for a Week and loved them both! Thanks for helping to fuel my own FF writings. Looking forward to reading Fates Interwoven!

Guest (for the lack of a better name) – It's always a huge compliment when someone calls one of my works both "different" and "good". It's really tempting to reinvent the wheel when writing FF, because it's more familiar and many of the story elements are already laid out. That's why I love AU stories so much; there are characters we all know and love, but in cool, new scenarios!

JeremyVD – Yeah! That's what I loved most about writing the opening scene. There's so much duplicity and just general 'WTF is going on' moments that I can't wait to unravel for you guys!

Latafmodginkianp37 – Haha, hopefully the pacing is still good by about halfway through. Getting the pace right while still keeping up interest but putting enough detail world-build without being wordy/boring is a rough balance. Let me know how I do!

MWEH – Thank you! Hopefully I'm able to meet your expectations and give you some good old fashioned escapism every week!