This is the revised version! The back half of this story I was able to split the big chapters on. Hopefully that helps the story flow. Enjoy!
…
Oohara Airi stepped off set with her co-stars close behind her when Director Shingai said the scene was a go, and struggled to smother a yawn. Kotonami-san, Nakano-san and Airi were midway through a day of scenes for episode three and the day had started at five in the morning. Airi would be grateful to see her bed that night, she thought, as she stretched a bit before wardrobe scurried over to them. As she was a focal character for this episode, she'd known that would mean long days of shooting, but nevertheless, she'd forgotten how much that type of work took it out of her.
Airi glanced curiously around when she heard Nakano-san make a sly joke that had Kotonami-san snorting softly. She followed the direction of their gaze, and caught sight of Tsuruga-san flipping the pages of his script at a side table off set in a bored fashion. She frowned a little, then heard Nakano-san mutter again.
"That act is so obvious to see through."
Airi saw Kotonami-san roll her eyes, but the younger girl said nothing. Airi approved. It was one thing to chat about co-stars at a dinner, with them around, and entirely another to spread gossip while working. Though, Airi wasn't too sure what had caught Nakano-san's eye.
Airi watched carefully, while wardrobe adjusted their makeup and clothing for their next scene, and saw it after a moment. Tsuruga-san had stopped flipping through pages and was studying the people around Director Shingai. Airi thought she might get it then. No one held Tsuruga-san's attention like that except Mogami-san. Airi peered around the shoulder of the crew member brushing dust off her kimono, and indeed saw Mogami-san in a discussion with the director and Atsushi-san.
A surge of sympathy went through her. She knew how tough it was to keep to strictly professional behavior while working with a person you really liked. She caught Nakano-san's soft laugh and heard her speak up again.
"Poor guy. He's not even supposed to be here on set for another hour. He must be lovesick. No other explanation for it."
Airi frowned again, but before she could step up and defend him, a sharp retort came from Kotonami-san.
"That's hardly likely. You know his reputation. He's probably waiting to ask the director something about his scene and decided to come in early."
Nakano-san shrugged lightly, "Sure, why not. Or, alternately, I'm right."
Kotonami-san looked like she might say something else but then Nakano-san and she were called onto set to resume their roles as the Akiyama sisters again.
Director Shingai wasn't one to really let gossip get out about his productions, so Nakano-san's thoughts were hardly likely to be spread around. That logic didn't keep Airi from feeling some concern over such bold speculation though. She glanced between her costars' retreating backs and to where Tsuruga-san sat as she pondered this. It was typical for people to be curious when people they had familiarity with acted unlike themselves. She knew that well enough, and had experience with it herself, but something kept her from pushing it from her mind.
Maybe she was actually just worried about Tsuruga-san. He was always so controlled and closed-off, except when Mogami-san was concerned. That type of behavior had always had her assuming that he was actually extremely introverted, outside of his professional façade. She knew what that was like. But, maybe, maybe he also just needed a little bit of support? She was leery of trying that herself, as she thought she might be overstepping their boundaries. Still, she couldn't help but think that maybe he'd be more comfortable opening up around people if someone approached him first.
She thought back to how content he'd been a few days ago at their dinner, and how playful he could actually be when he relaxed. She had a particular selfie that came to mind then, but she shook that thought away with a sigh. It'd be a shame if Tsuruga-san kept that part of himself buried just because it didn't jive with the image he'd created for himself. He should have the opportunity to relax that façade sometimes. Airi assumed that it was only because Dark Moon was one of those rare series that had to be worked on for so long that he was as comfortable as he actually was around them.
Airi smiled ruefully as she was called onto set. She had a feeling her sympathetic nature had already decided her course of action.
A half a week after their night out, Ren's impulsiveness caught up with him. He'd been between scenes in the studio set they'd been shooting in for episode three. The schedule for this episode meant he only appeared in a couple of the orphanage scenes, and a few other miscellaneous scenes. So, as he'd only been lightly scheduled, he'd taken the time to linger on set and observe how the rest of the cast interactions were developing in his down time between scenes.
That was his excuse anyway. And that meant Yashiro left him to his own devices and went and helped Kyoko whenever it seemed she might need it. In reality, he was completely absorbed in watching the play of light over Kyoko's face as she laughed with her best friend as they acted together.
She'd said once to him, a few weeks ago, that she was jumping on this chance with all that she had. Kyoko was relishing in every single second, because she had no idea when she'd ever again get the opportunity to do something so meaningful, and something so fun, ever again. The passion that had lit her face as she had spoken had made Ren want to whisper promises into her skin that he would do whatever it took, so that she could hold the whole world in the palm of her hand.
He'd swallowed the words; bitten his tongue so harshly it had bled so the words would not escape. If she never fathomed the depth of his longing, the depth of his feelings for her, it would be a relief. To scare her away now with them, the thought was untenable. He had to be patient. He could not lose her now.
Ren's thoughts were thusly embroiled as he watched Kyoko weave together flowers as her character created beautiful floral accents and decorations for her best friend Mi-chan's wedding.
"Tsuruga-san? Is this spot free?"
Startled out of his musings, Ren looked up, into the faintly amused face of Oohara-san, "Ah yes, it is. Please, feel free."
Oohara-san settled in, and she adjusted the chair so she glanced in the same direction, towards the part of the set he was watching. Ren tried his best to emanate nonchalance as she did this, and he studied the script that had been in his hands. It was a wasted effort, however, as Oohara-san slid her phone over the surface of the table he'd been sitting at with a damning image on its screen.
Ren closed his eyes for a short moment after viewing it, and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Go ahead Oohara-san. Tell me what a fool I am."
The picture wasn't damning in an immediately apparent way. Momose-san and Oohara-san had simply been getting one last selfie before they'd parted ways presumably, but they had caught the moment in the background in which Ren had leaned over and pressed a kiss to Kyoko's hair. Ren hadn't cared then, but of course it mattered.
Ren waited, a hair's breadth away from true panic, but Oohara-san simply studied him carefully for a moment. She slid her phone back over to herself, turned the screen off, and put it away.
"Did you know," she began conversationally, as if she was commenting on the weather instead of the precariously balanced and practically nonexistent lovelife of Tsuruga Ren, "That I fell in love for the first time the day I turned 18?"
Ren blinked, unsure that he understood the non sequitur. He decided to go ahead and play along anyway. It would at least, help keep his panic at bay.
"I don't think it's ever come up, no."
Oohara-san smiled softly, and played with her sleeves, "Yep. Oh, and I was naïve about it too. It was my first day being on set in a film production in which I had my first major speaking role. I was oh, I don't know, I guess, dazzled by it all. The director was intense, absolutely brilliant, and he said maybe two sentences to me when we first met, and that was it. That's all it took."
Ren was suddenly intensely uncomfortable at witnessing the loving expression on her face, and instead studied the wood grain of the table and the stains left behind by his coffee mug. He cleared his throat once he realized she was waiting for some sort of response.
"That's ah, pretty typical I suppose. It's easy to be swept up in a forceful personality. Ah, were your feelings reciprocated then? This appears to be a happy memory."
Oohara-san's lips twisted, fond remembrance fading from her features. Ren winced; he clearly still had no idea how to appropriately approach topics such as this. Kotonami Kanae's scoffs of disbelief echoed in his memory and he metaphorically kicked himself for putting his foot in it.
"They weren't, no," said Oohara-san.
Ren nodded along, extremely uncertain about how to respond, and felt increasingly foolish as seconds ticked on by.
"But it was still one of the best weeks of my life. Do you know why?"
Ren squirmed uneasily, acutely aware of the years of experience Oohara-san had on him on this topic when faint wrinkles appeared at the corner of her eyes when she smiled.
"Ah, I'm not sure. Why?"
"Because being in love made me bold, it made me confident. It is still one of my favorite acting jobs I've ever had because I was able to reach parts of my inner self and express emotions I never thought I'd be able to on screen." she said this so matter-of-factly that Ren couldn't help but hold her steady gaze as she spoke.
"It made me freer, more daring. It made me less self-conscious. My part was of a girl hopelessly in love, who became bitter and twisted over it not being returned. In total, my part couldn't have had more than twenty minutes of run-time in that production. I still consider it some of my strongest work." Ren fully understood the implications behind Oohara-san's words, but he remained silent as she studied him for a moment. Oohara-san tapped her fingernails against the tabletop, then spoke again, elaborating further.
"During that entire week, I just, I lived. I did my work, and I lived, and I loved. I experienced things I never thought I would. Passion Tsuruga-san, is an amazing thing. I know now that I was caught up in the exhilarating feeling of someone intense and passionate about their work."
"That sounds like a uh, a pretty remarkable time in your life." Ren murmured, knowing it was a weak response and insincere to boot, but his emotions were still too tangled up in confusion for him to try to be anything other than polite. Oohara-san sighed.
"Do you think that I am still upset over it? Ten years later?" Ren glanced away from the faint reproach in her face, his stomach churning with nerves.
"Because I'm not. We are only human Tsuruga-san. And we are young. We still have quite a bit of growing up to do. And if what we experience also helps us with the work we want to accomplish, I say, bring it on."
Ren's expression must have been one of surprise because Oohara-san let out a quiet chuckle, then said, "It's true you know. There's no need to look so surprised."
When silence fell between them for a moment, Ren's gaze was pulled back to Kyoko. Her hair was currently the black of Yoneda Yayoi's, with hair extensions like what she'd worn as Setsuka, but still Ren ached to run his hands through it, to draw her attention away from the others, to keep all of her focus on him, on them, on us. His train of thought had him vaguely remembering the moment when he affixed the ribbon back into her hairstyle the other day, and the pang of longing that shot through him was very nearly a physical thing.
Kyoko's attention was directed away somewhere else just then, and when she turned, the curve of her jaw and her profile were brought sharply into relief. It was in those moments, when the light hit her just right, that Ren recognized the woman that she would become. He'd fallen into the habit of teasing her by calling her princess on occasion since their fun little balcony encounter. She tended to call him her dashing knight in return, and the thought always brought a small smile to his face. Still, it was in these particular moments that Ren knew she was destined to grow past that nickname.
Oohara-san sighed, and Ren grew more watchful, curious now about what else she might have to say. She'd already barged through his cool, collected exterior and had addressed the huge torch he was carrying around with him, where apparently, everyone could see it. Ren wasn't really able to analyze what type of expression was on her face. Perhaps it was sympathy, perhaps it was concern. He swallowed hard, and returned to studying the wood grain of the table.
"We experience nothing from the chances that we never take." said Oohara-san finally. Ren's fist in his lap tightened minutely, before he forced it to smooth back out. He was distracted from it when she leaned in across the table, her voice lowered.
"You have an opportunity, Tsuruga-san. One that many others would give their entire lives to have. I do not know your story, I am not asking for it. But take it from someone that has watched you two for a while. Whatever it is that holds you back, ultimately, it will not matter." Oohara-san sent him a soft, supportive smile.
Ren wondered if his behavior was obvious to everyone he worked with. But no, Oohara-san did specify she'd been watching us a while. Maybe he wasn't so pathetically obvious then? He got distracted from this morose train of thought when Oohara-san spoke again, her words fervent, and her eyes full of sympathy.
"Say you live ten more years, say you live a hundred more, but, live your best life. Do not leave it like this, where you believe you are foolish for taking the littlest chances, just because someone might happen to see it. You deserve better than regretting not taking the chance. She deserves better."
Ren stared blankly at the table as Oohara-san finished saying her piece, numbly recognizing when she stood up and strolled away, back to her designated chair closer to the set. His head was reeling, and his emotions were in a jumble. With a groan, he tossed his script onto the table and pressed his face into his hands and rubbed.
The thing about episode three, in Kyoko's mind at least, was that the orphanage scenes then became an imperative part of the subtext. On the surface, they were simply there to emphasize Daisuke and Yayoi becoming pillars of their community. It was not until the end of the episode, after all the wedding preparation with the Akiyamas, that Yumika read Yayoi's diary and gained her first inkling of the truth. That is, that Yayoi's reasons for going and volunteering there were incredibly different from what Daisuke believed them to be. Daisuke being an orphan himself, simply believed that Yayoi volunteered her time when he did, in support of him. He thought it only a sweet gesture on her part.
But when Yumika read Yayoi's diary, an entry from the summer she turned fifteen, Yumika would become regretful of how she'd behaved towards her sister since they had fought the night before Yayoi's wedding to Daisuke. This was due in part to the diary entry and what it revealed, but also because Yumika would come to the realization that her and her sister might have had more in common than Yumika would have thought.
Kyoko pondered the circumstances that surrounded this scene as she waited for Shingai to call action. She'd been relieved and pleased that she could play fifteen year old Yayoi as she'd thought someone else might have had to. But, she'd been informed that it was still believable if she did so. Her thoughts were disrupted when Kyoko heard Shingai call to begin the scene and she began to stroll around the flowers of the garden.
She paused at a couple different markers as they had rehearsed earlier, so she could smell the fragrances of the blossoms, a contemplative mood overtaking her thoughts. It was an early morning scene, so it was a little chillier than she liked and she appreciated the warm layers of her kimono and the boots on her feet as she strolled. Shortly after she started strolling, a rustling caught Yayoi's attention, and she glanced past the bushes of flowers and saw a young girl half jogging, half limping along down the path towards the orphanage, doing her best to keep a bundle cradled close to her chest.
Yayoi froze for a moment, before following. She had a bad feeling in her gut, but the girl had seemed to be crying, so Yayoi cursed herself, but followed. She kept quiet, and made sure to be unobtrusive, hoping to not startle the girl. After a few moments, (longer in reality as Shingai had her run during this scene a couple different ways, much to Kyoko's exasperation as she struggled with the kimono she was wearing while she did so), Yayoi caught up enough with the girl and saw her place the bundle on the orphanage's doorstep.
She heard a loud sob come from that direction, before the girl took off again. As the girl turned and fled back down the path, Yayoi gasped and pressed herself close to the tree she'd been hiding behind. She'd recognized that girl. She knew her from school. She'd disappeared months ago and her close friends had only shrugged and said that they'd thought she'd moved away.
It was a long moment before Yayoi could take it upon herself to move closer. The bad feeling in her gut only grew, and when she peeked in past the folds of the bundling, she saw a dark haired baby. It yawned, and blinked its eyes open. Yayoi closed hers, a pang of heartache surging through her. Her lips twisted into a bitter expression as she looked back down the path.
The baby's eyes had been a bright blue. The baby was clearly over a year old, as could be guessed by the couple teeth she'd seen when it had yawned, so it would be highly unlikely for that eye color to get darker. Yayoi stifled the urge to hold the child as it began to cry, and ran all the way back home until she found herself back in the gardens on the Yoneda land. She looked around at all their beautiful blossoms, but when she caught sight of their patch of baby's breath, the first tears escaped her, and her knees buckled and she landed hard on the grass.
Kyoko wrapped a hand around her stomach, and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the sob. In that moment, she was both Yayoi and Kyoko. And her mind flashed to when she had watched Oohara-san and Sugaya-san weep in the inn, and knew she felt the first inkling of the experience they had had of being so attuned to their character. The emotional impact of Yayoi's character hadn't yet had the chance to hit her so hard however. That was new. She inhaled deep, and let her breath out slowly to calm herself down.
Shingai ended that scene there, and patted Kyoko on the back approvingly as she sniffled a bit before she got herself completely back under control. He helped her off set and sat her down in her chair. The scene itself was powerfully emotional, but the surrounding context of an underage girl bringing a biracial baby to an orphanage in this time had even more powerful implications. They'd had to be very, very careful with what they'd implied. Kyoko was relieved that Shingai approved of what she'd done. As well as nervous that she might be asked to do more reshoots, and therefore lessen her own emotional response that she was able to pull into her acting ability.
Kyoko sat and thought for a long moment in grim silence as the crew around her started rearranging things they needed to rearrange for the following scenes. When she wasn't asked to repeat the performance after a while, she relaxed slightly. Kyoko had done her best to not let her own personal issues influence her work in this scene, to pay respect to its emotional aspects. She had put her best effort in, and it had paid off it seemed. But as much as Kyoko did her best to not think it, the thought came anyway.
Had her own mother cried?
As the shooting of the week wound down on Friday afternoon a couple days later, Ren's conflicted thoughts and emotional upheaval still troubled him. They were down to the last orphanage scenes of episode three, and he was surrounded by easily excitable young ladies, who were all aflutter over being able to work with 'sexy young soldiers' as Ren had overheard one of them say. Mixed in amongst that were a gaggle of children that occasionally shrieked with delight as they ran around and played together, both on camera and off.
Ren had sighed many times throughout the day and thought often of escaping to the world outside of the orphanage set. Perhaps he might even grab a smoke break. Jack Taylor was yet another role in which he played a smoker, and Ren had begun to wonder, in a mostly amused fashion, if he would ever be able to escape that trope anytime in the near future.
Kyoko's laughter broke his thoughts, and while Ren stayed true to his professionalism in the scene his character was in with some of the extras, a majority of his focus then shifted to her. He strained his hearing, and caught another quiet giggle, and the words she spoke.
"Oh no Atsushi-san, geez, that sounds like a really bad day."
Ren barely caught Atsushi-san's dry response, "Does it? Being dunked in water repeatedly for dramatic effect, why that sounds positively delightful."
Kyoko giggled again and Ren realized he was gritting his teeth in frustration. That old familiar urge of making Kyoko focus on him instead of anyone else surged within him, and left him breathless. He forced himself to think other thoughts, to get his mind off of it. Premiere this weekend, premiere, think of the premiere. Ren's frustration eased a bit as he did this, much to his relief.
Unfortunately, unlike episode two, where Jack and Yayoi connected over their mutual losses, episode three did not hold many scenes wherein Kyoko and Ren could work one on one together. Over the past week, the frustration within Ren of being unable to act opposite of her had begun to build. He'd been able to distract himself from it mostly by focusing on the military unit dynamics they really got to explore in episode three and four, which led up to the climax in episode five. But since Oohara-san had approached him a couple days ago, Ren had taken to fretting over his time with Kyoko-or the lack therein- and worrying at it like he would a sore bruise.
As he heard Shingai call cut, Ren forced down his worry, and stepped off set when they were given the all clear. He searched for Kyoko, but realized Shingai had swiftly moved on to the next part of the scene, where the focus was on Yayoi and her husband volunteering at the orphanage. Kyoko and Atsushi worked well together, and to Ren's eye, easily expressed a wholesome, sweet relationship of a loving couple that tried their best to help their community.
Ren's hands curled into fists as he watched it play out from where he had plopped down backwards in his chair, straddling it. His fists curled in tight, and then he forced them to release again. In an effort to seem less like a crazy stalker, he crossed his arms over top of his chair, studied his shoes, and just breathed until he managed to wrangle his jealousy down to a more acceptable level.
"Remarkable, isn't it?" Yashiro's voice popped up so close to him that he was startled. Ren forced himself to smooth out his features into a calm and neutral mask, before he glanced at his manager and replied.
"I'm sorry?"
"Kyoko's development I mean. The last time I got the chance to watch those two together, Kyoko wasn't nearly so collected and professional. She was quite worried actually. It seems she and Atsushi-san have been able to build a good rapport together while they act."
"How nice for them." Ren muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes in despair when the words slipped out, but not soon enough to avoid Yashiro's evil grin.
"No need to worry Ren-kun. Just show him that adorable picture of you two making a heart."
Ren cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair in aggravation.
Yashiro snickered. "I have actually been informed by Maria-chan that our wonderful president has printed out that image and taped it to their fridge. He's positively rapturous over it."
That does explain the unnecessary amount of hearts he sent me in his last text, thought Ren ruefully.
"I see that your emails with Maria-chan are as informative as ever." Ren said instead, in an attempt to switch the focus of the conversation.
"Well, it pays to have informants everywhere you know." replied Yashiro loftily.
"I shudder to think who your informant is among this cast," said Ren dryly. On Dark Moon, it had been Ogata. It'd be just his luck that Shingai and Yashiro might gossip about him behind his back, or something to that effect.
Yashiro adjusted his glasses, then said, "Takimoto Misaki-san actually."
"Who?"
"The girl that works with Kyoko in the teahouse scenes. She has exceptional observational skills. She'd make a great manager. Pity that she seems enamored of the photography side of things."
"...I see."
Yashiro cut an amused glance to Ren, "She's quite intrigued by you two. And apparently she loves following Momose-san's twitter. Takimoto-san is a big fan of Momose-san. We had a delightful conversation about Dark Moon during one of her and Kyoko's breaks yesterday."
Ren willed himself to not sigh in exasperation. He'd be fifty and Momose-san would still be messing with him, he was sure of it. But, maybe Kyoko would be around me enough then to protect me from her, Ren thought wistfully. It hadn't escaped his notice that when Momose-san was distracted by the more vivacious Kyoko, Ren was able to relax and didn't need to defend himself from Momose-san's taunting, as was evidenced by the night they'd all gone out. I wonder if that means Momose-san has adopted me as the older brother she loves to mess with?
Yashiro's expression grew more serious though, and that distracted Ren from the decidedly odd thought he'd just had.
"Yashiro-san?"
"Takimoto-san was also curious about rehearsing the end of episode four. It seems she's a little uncertain over how she should express herself in that scene."
Ren froze for a millisecond, then covered the misstep with a frown, "I don't see why. It seems to be a pretty straightforward scene to me."
"Mmhmm." Yashiro studied him carefully and Ren did his best to show only a slightly concerned expression.
"Perhaps we should go ahead and schedule some extra time for that?" Ren suggested casually, hoping to divert Yashiro's attention. When Yashiro pulled out his calendar and started muttering to himself, Ren breathed a sigh of relief.
Episode four, he thought, unnerved. He caught sight of Kyoko again, and some of the anxiety he had begun to feel dispersed. By the time he was called onto set again, he had convinced himself that he'd put it from his mind entirely. If Ren knew he was lying to himself, well, that was fine. It wasn't as if his problems would actually interfere with his work. He'd moved past that since his time as BJ.
Friday evening found Kyoko wandering around into the small kitchenette they had access to after hours in the building they were rooming in. It was a habit she'd gotten into in the past couple weeks, and if she was inclined to examine the reason why, she'd probably guess that she tended to find kitchens comforting. All you needed to do was make yourself up some calming tea, and simply decompress from the day as you finished off your cup.
These were the motions she was going through as she reflected on her work of the day, and once more felt the sting of guilt pierce through her. Kyoko had made one too many loud and sarcastic comments, and Atsushi-san, her partner in crime so to speak, had laughed a little too loudly a little too much. Near the end of the day, Shingai had taken her aside during one of their breaks, folded his arms, and just looked at her in such disappointment that she'd immediately blurted out apologies. She'd known immediately that she'd been a bit too rowdy while on set.
He'd held up a hand after a while, and asked, "Do you know why I took you aside?"
"My unprofessionalism?" Kyoko had suggested quietly, studying her hands as she folded them in front of her. She'd known, no matter how irritated she'd gotten with all the extras fawning over the military section of the cast, that she should have kept her mouth shut. But as Ren had gotten increasingly exasperated throughout the day, at least from what she could tell, the harder and harder it'd been to keep quiet.
Shingai-san had sighed, "Yes Kyoko-san. I know you and Atsushi-san have been getting along better, which is good, and cracking jokes is something we all do, but one or the both of you should have known better with the second or third one."
Kyoko had nodded, overwhelmed with guilt. Shingai had just sighed again, "I wanted to talk to you specifically about this behavior, but not to call you out over it or to make you feel bad."
Kyoko had peeked up at him, thrown as all he did was smile down at her. "I just wanted to make you aware that your own behavior has shown me that you expect the best from yourself, professionally speaking. I admire that a great deal. Are you disappointed with your behavior today?"
He'd arched his eyebrows questioningly and Kyoko couldn't help but nod. By that late in the day, she had actually felt really terrible about it.
"Then I guess we're done here. Go out there with a better attitude, and get the work finished."
She'd bowed and thanked him but he'd replied, "Don't thank me Kyoko-san, I'm simply holding you to your own standard of professionalism. If you expect better of yourself, I will not let that behavior slide. I can guarantee that."
On the one hand she had appreciated the reminder, and on the other, she'd only felt even worse after someone else had pointed it out to her. She sighed, and stared out the window as she sipped on her tea. She was hoping it would ease her nerves, and her bad feelings.
She was halfway through her cup when Takashi Chiyo entered as well, rubbing at the back of her neck. She lowered the light switch at the doorway of the room, so that the light was dimmer and let out a small yawn as she looked around.
"Takashi-san! Good evening!" Kyoko greeted her softly, as she straightened from where she'd been leaning against the windowsill. She wondered if Takashi-san might have a headache, but refrained from asking. It would be rude to pry.
"Good evening Kyoko-san. Is the water in the kettle still hot?" asked Takashi-san.
Kyoko nodded to let her know it was. Kyoko watched her meander around and make her own cup of tea, curious as to the reason why the writer lingered there after her cup was made up. But Takashi-san just sipped at her tea and leaned up against the countertop, without providing an immediate answer. Frequently, Kyoko spent this time of day in the kitchenette by herself. It wasn't often that someone else also stumbled in for anything.
In order to avoid appearing rude though, Kyoko simply drank her tea, and glanced out of the window at the mountain outlined along the horizon. The moon was full and heavy, and that brought the mountain into sharp relief against the starry night sky. Kyoko appreciated the elegance and beauty to be found in such a scene.
"I hear you all are moving onto episode four on Monday," said Takashi-san eventually. Kyoko's curious nature reasserted itself then.
"Ah yes, was that one of the things you wished to see yourself?" Kyoko asked. Takashi-san wasn't spending all of the location shoot with them, as much of her business could be done through conference calls and she had many obligations in Tokyo. Kyoko wondered if that's why Takashi-san appeared tired. Perhaps she'd just arrived on location?
"It is," Takashi-san murmured in response as she sipped her tea. "I'll be here for a couple weeks, then return to Tokyo, but I'll be back for the last few days of the on-location shoot."
Kyoko nodded to show she understood and they sipped their tea in silence for another quiet moment.
"Have you set up rehearsals for it yet?"
"Ah, for episode four? I haven't, no." said Kyoko, attention drawn away from the window and back to the writer.
"Hmmm. Interesting."
Kyoko felt slightly guilty about that, but she and Ren both had business to attend to in Tokyo tomorrow, so while the others may have been able to set up rehearsals over the weekend, she herself had not. She had taken the time to thoroughly read the script though, and while she had her misgivings, she was more certain than she'd ever been that her determination to do well would see her through. She would simply not accept anything less.
"What do you think of your ending scene?" asked Takashi-san.
"Ah, at the docks? Poignant, I think is the best descriptor that can come to mind. Horribly difficult, and terribly poignant." When Takashi-san's brow wrinkled, Kyoko wished her response hadn't been so blunt.
As Kyoko was about to open her mouth to apologize, Takashi frowned slightly, "I meant at the teahouse. The scene that has your ending dialogue of the episode."
Kyoko was suddenly and intensely fascinated by the rim of her tea cup. She held out for one painful moment, but the pressure of the silence undid her resolve and she found herself blurting out another blunt reply.
"Also terribly difficult. You are an incredible writer Takashi-sensei, make no mistake. But it's those kinds of scenes that makes people like me fearful of their own ability to portray what you want."
She had thought this frequently throughout the day, and had been unable to do anything other than keep it all bottled up inside. She was fully prepared to withstand a tongue-lashing for saying so. She stood there and stared at Takashi-san, trying to figure out what she might have been thinking; but Takashi-san just sent her a small smile, and took a sip of her tea.
"Good. It should make you uneasy. If you had said you thought you would have no problem with it, I would have been disappointed."
Kyoko got the distinct feeling that she might have just passed another test Takashi-san had set to her.
"Any advice then, Takashi-sensei?"
Takashi-san took a final sip of her tea, and set the cup down on the countertop once she was finished. "Practice makes perfect, Kyoko-san. Only you can know what way will work best for you. Practice, practice, practice."
Kyoko smiled ruefully at the answer. They stood there for a while longer, and then Takashi-san spoke again, "If there's anything I can tell you as a writer that would be helpful, it would be this. This is the moment that breaks Jack Taylor. This is the moment in which he decides to drown, or to swim to shore. Yoneda Yayoi makes that moment for Jack Taylor. Jack Taylor's response to her, is what makes Yoneda Yayoi decide her path as well. This is the crossroads. Do you understand?"
Kyoko swallowed, and her nerves returned in full force at the intensity of the look Takashi-san shot her. But she nodded, and Takashi-san continued.
"What Yoneda Yayoi communicates in that moment must be absolutely clear. It must be shown in how she stands, in how her hands are placed, in how she tilts her head. Everything about Yoneda Yayoi matters in that one moment. Of course, that always matters, but in that moment it must be so apparent that a five year old can tell." Takashi-san held her gaze for a while longer, before Kyoko had break it, uncomfortable and unsure.
Takashi-san sighed and stretched a little as she stood from where she had been leaning against the counter. As the writer's soft goodbye drifted her way as she exited the room, Kyoko let her cup clatter onto the counter and she just stood there staring at it for a moment. The answer had been just as she had expected. Takashi-san's eyes had glittered with expectation and Kyoko grimly shored up her resolve. Kyoko would not let Takashi-san down. Not now, not after everything Kyoko had already pushed herself to accomplish for this production. It would simply be unacceptable to Kyoko for her to do anything less than her absolute best.
Kyoko blew out a sigh and fished her phone out of her pocket. Princess paging Dashing Knight. Beep beeeep! We need to figure out rehearsal times for Act 4. Respond when you can. -K She decided to add a smiley face, for good measure.
Kyoko waited for a few minutes to see if he would respond, and even cleaned up the tea things while she did so. Eventually, she realized that he must have gone to sleep early, because her phone didn't once buzz with a response during the following hour. She couldn't do much but sigh and go to bed herself then. Hopefully, they could just work it out tomorrow on the way into Tokyo.
It was Kyoko half humming, half singing that roused Kanae from the depths of sleep. Kanae cracked an eyelid open, and caught side of Kyoko lacing up her sandals and standing. Kanae let out a quiet grumble but the soft singing started up again and drowned her out. She squeezed her eyes shut again.
"... Ooooh whooooooa, would we love the sunshine if it never raiiiined..."
Kyoko was standing at their joint vanity mirror, combing and styling her hair and putting on lipgloss when Kanae glanced back.
Kanae blinked then as she finally realized how fashionably Kyoko was styling herself for the day. Wait a minute. Today is the day she goes back to Tokyo. Confusion cleared up, Kanae slipped out of bed and padded over to the restroom to also start getting ready.
When Kanae reentered the room, Kyoko was smiling softly down at her phone. Kanae cocked her head, curious at who had put such a sweet expression on her face before Kyoko looked up at Kanae.
"Moko-san! Morning!"
"Ah, morning."
"I was about to go down. Did you want to join me?"
Kanae stifled a yawn, then nodded. Once they'd settled in to eat some breakfast down in the dining hall, Kyoko brought up possible rehearsal times for the week. They were nearly finished with drawing up a tentative schedule, when Kyoko's phone buzzed at her. She typed out a quick reply as she and Kanae wrapped up their discussion. Kanae was mostly awake at this point, and still curious.
"Well?" Kanae quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.
Kyoko mumbled something as she shut her planner and tucked her pen into the spiral binding.
"Hmmm?" Kanae asked. "What was that?"
Kyoko flushed, but spoke louder. "It was just Tsuruga-san letting me know he was waiting for me in the lobby."
Kanae checked her watch, confused, "It's not even ten yet. Why are you leaving so early?"
"Maria-chan." said Kyoko, as if that explained everything. Kanae was amused, but understood. That did in fact, explain everything that needed explained.
They stood and strolled out to the lobby, tossing their breakfast trays where they needed to go on the way. Kanae had to smother a snicker as they caught sight of Nick-san and Tsuruga-san leaning up against the wall near the coffee machine, their faces tired and pale. Nick's eyes were closed as he had leaned his head back against the wall, but Tsuruga-san seemed preoccupied with studying his coffee suspiciously. Such behavior was a classic sign of a hangover.
"Have a good night then?" Kyoko asked, her voice louder than it needed to be and just as perky. Kanae did snicker then, as both of the men flinched. It seemed Kyoko had also recognized that the men must have been somewhat hungover.
Nick peered at them, took a swig of his coffee, then stared some more. The girls just stared back, amused. Tsuruga muttered something into his coffee that neither of the girls caught.
"You look lovely today Mogami-san." Tsuruga-san's gaze snapped away from his coffee as Nick said this, and Kanae hid a smirk.
Kyoko, predictably, blushed, but said, "Thank you Nick-san."
"I haven't seen you wear that dress before. It's really nice, is it new?" Nick asked amiably.
Kyoko nodded, pleased at the compliment. Nick opened his mouth again, and Kanae was interested to see how Tsuruga would react if Nick kept up with the compliments. But Tsuruga cut in just as Nick spoke.
"Mogami-
"Nick." Tsuruga's voice was hard, and Kanae was intrigued by the glittering smile that appeared on his face. She wondered if this was the infamous angry smile Kyoko feared so much. She swept her eyes towards Kyoko, who did indeed look a great deal more nervous than she had a moment ago.
"Hmm?" Nick glanced at Ren, waiting to hear what the other man wanted, and appeared to completely forget that he'd been talking to Kyoko.
"Didn't you need to see a man about a harmonica?" The others stared at him, nonplussed. Then Nick's face brightened.
"Oh that's right! The dinner tomorrow!" Nick waved goodbye to them, and hurried out the lobby doors.
The moment of silence that followed his exit stretched on uncomfortably long enough that it made Kanae twitchy. So she broke the silence.
"Kyoko. You should go grab your purse. You don't want to leave that behind."
Kyoko nodded, still appearing uneasy, but scurried off back to their room.
Kanae shot Ren a withering glare. "Did you seriously have to act so childishly just now? You have to know Nick-san is in a committed relationship."
Ren groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Of course I know tha-wait, how do you know that?"
Kanae rolled her eyes, "Because I talk to my coworkers, obviously. Nick-san is crazy about him, it's come up."
Kanae stared in disbelief as Ren hunched his shoulders, looking for all the world like a sulky child as he took a sip of his coffee.
"You can't seriously think that Kyoko approves of that kind of behavior? You're just making it more difficult for her to take you seriously."
He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, "You know Kotonami-san, some days we humans wake up feeling like mature adults, and sometimes we don't. And sometimes," Ren frowned back down at his cup, aggravation apparent on his features, "Sometimes we get irrational over stupid stuff. Can you blame me for wanting to be the one to put that look on her face?" Ren shot her a challenging stare, but Kanae couldn't spit out a good enough rejoinder to all that, and instead just said,
"Well you're self-aware at least."
"I'm afraid I am." Ren muttered back down at his cup.
Kanae frowned as she studied him and he huffed out a small, self-deprecating laugh.
"You know, the very first thing she respected me for, was my maturity. Nowadays, I can't seem to grasp that even when I'm trying to with all my power. Hell, most of the time, I don't even want to try to be mature. I just want to shake her free of her typical professionalism and just ahhhh…I've said too much."
Ren shot Kanae a rueful expression that actually made her stop frowning.
"But we're two peas in a pod aren't we Kotonami-san? She just messes us up and drives us crazy. I imagine that might just be part of the reason we stick around huh?"
The all too knowing look in his eye had Kanae flushing, and she glanced away guiltily. She hurried to change the topic.
"Uh huh, sure. So tell me, I'm curious, when you two have problems, does immaturity work better than say, the reliable attitude you had when you happened across us arguing in the locker room earlier in the summer?"
Ren shrugged, a gesture that had Kanae sighing at its predictability.
"Some advice then Tsuruga-san," Kanae said with some asperity, "If you want to see that smile you love so much, try actually talking about your problems. And do it before they explode in your face. I know, it'll be difficult. But you're a big boy, I believe in you."
Kanae left him there with that declaration, more aggravated by the whole nonsense than she was willing to admit out loud. She couldn't believe she'd gotten so riled up over Kyoko and Ren's issues again. She huffed and muttered to herself,
"This better not become a habit."
…
Split the chapter for hopefully, better story flow. Edited for clarity and redundancy too. Thanks for reading!
-artsy