II

Tomoyo couldn't go back to the gala. Her whole body had that after sex smell, and her appearance did nothing more than confirm what she had just done: messy hair, messy makeup, her dress was totally wrinkled, and she was holding her shoes in her hand. She also couldn't stay in the suite. Not only because she didn't want to, but because she felt it was not the right thing to do. What just had happened had been a one-night stand; falling asleep next to that man, and wake up the next day with a good morning kiss was something that was just not going to happen. People like Kinomoto Touya never did such things. Famous people like him just did not have stable relationships, they liked to experiment, and did just what they pleased. It was both a perk and a con of being a celebrity: being caught with a stranger (no matter what had actually happened or not) would only bring bad press.

Kinomoto, however, was a bit different in that aspect; he had been in the acting business for years, and no gossip regards his personal life had ever been said. The name of an ex-girlfriend had never come up, nor had there been photographs of him with any woman; part of his popularity depended on that halo of mystery that surrounded his romantic life, and it was just for this reason that Daidouji would not be the one to ruin his impeccable reputation.

So, the young aspiring fashion designer had to leave the hotel around 3 a.m., when the gala had finally ended, and there was no one left who could recognize her. She walked away a couple of blocks, still shoes in hand, until she finally stopped a taxi, and getting lost in the still awake Tokyo's downtown, she asked to be taken home.

But, the neighborhood where she lived sure did sleep. She had to be cautious when she opened her apartment door and turned on the lights: the neighbors were all good people and had never gossiped about her, but they sure wouldn't like be waken up at such an hour.

Once her eyes got used to the light, Tomoyo left her keys on the table that was next to the door, and finally threw her shoes under it. Undressing once again, she left her dress fall down to the floor, and walked down the hall to her room, where she just threw herself onto the bed. She really had to take a bath, clean that scent of sex from her skin, but honestly speaking, she also wanted to keep Kinomoto's scent linger a bit longer. That would be the only time she could appreciate it, and she wanted to fix it in her memory forever. Besides, she was really tired; actually, she didn't notice when she actually fell asleep.

When the sun hit her on her face, waking her up from that dream that now was gone forever, it became impossible to delay the inevitable, and still drowsy, she got into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, Tomoyo found herself sitting cross-legged on one of the stools of her kitchen bar, holding a cup of coffee with one hand, and her phone in the other. She had that one message opened, the one that she had received last night, and was reading it again, although there really wasn't much to read. The sender was still marked as unknown, and she wasn't sure if she should save it on her contact list. Would she dare to call him, send him a message, or get in touch, with him in anyway? It took longer to imagine it, than to discard the idea: she had to understand what had happened, and not make up any crazy ideas. Last night had been a one timer. It was obvious that it wasn't going to happen again. Not only because she knew he also saw it as a one-night stand, but because she knew they'll never see each other again. Their meeting had been just a coincidence, not even fate, just the right moment in the right time. She wouldn't be so lucky once again.

Still, she was unable to delete the message. That simple line, holding just a word and a three-digit number was the only proof she had of what had happened last night. Kinomoto Touya had seen her, had spoken to her, and had cum inside her, while she was trapped under the sheets, under him.

Once again she forced herself to ignore and forget such thoughts, and hurrying herself to finish her cup of coffee, she finally locked her phone screen. She had a busy day today; she better got moving.

She did the best she could to let it in the past, and continue with her day to day. The next week she spent her days making custom pieces for several clients, as well as fulfilling her duties as Tsukishiro Yue's assistant. She also took her time to design some new clothes. Locked in her apartment, a loose-fitting shirt, old shorts, a messy bun and her huge round glasses, was her usual outfit for pattering, measuring, cutting and sewing. A pencil on her ear and some pins between her lips. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Her marathon sessions where the usual; inspiration made her work for hours, making her forget about the world, barely sleeping, hardly eating, barely worrying about her own self, until her art finished materializing in those garments, and she could once again become part of the universe that surrounded her.

This time was no different. Once she was certain she had achieved just what she wanted to create (she had been working on that black leather jacket with a shiny print on its back, sewing sequin by sequin herself), she stopped to admire it for almost like an hour, before realizing she was actually starving. To reward herself for the hard work and the gorgeous result, she decided to go eat out.

She was sitting now in a terrace, just half way into her chicken bowl, when her cellphone (placed on the table) vibrated, indicating she had just received a message. As if that week had just not passed, and that touch was still present over her skin, her thoughts ran wild and her heart skipped a beat. Could it be him? Could it be a new message of him, asking to meet once again?

A thousand theories came to her mind, until she had to shut up herself saying that it was just simply and utterly impossible. That it was just a childish fantasy. She was quite sure she wasn't the first or last girl on earth with which Kinomoto Touya had decided to have a night-stand. Why would he remember her, from all the rest, just to repeat such a moment? She had to stop herself for being so idiotic; the best thing she could do was just forget about him.

Still, that last tought decided not to disappear completely, and clung to safety, hiding in a corner of her mind, barely arising when looking at the sender, she saw the message also came from an unknown number. For a fraction of a second, she couldn't help but have a little of hope once again. Maybe dreams did come true. That, until she actually clicked on the notification, and the message finally opened, revealing its content.

"Miss Daidouji, I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to you the night of the gala. I would've love to chat with you for a bit longer, especially since I wanted to ask for your portfolio. You see, I'm actually quite interested in interviewing you; I think you're just what me and my team had been looking for. Please, don't hesitate to reach to me if you're interested in this job offer. –Tsukishiro Yukito."

Obviously she replied right away. Five minutes later, when her phone vibrated again, a phone call from Tsukishiro left her with a job interview scheduled for next day. The call had been short, and he didn't quite explain what kind of job offer it was, but still, Tomoyo felt excited. She was sure that opportunity could only bring good results.

That afternoon, when she arrived back at her place, she sat to work on her portfolio: she wanted to show Tsukishiro Yukito only the best of her work. That night she couldn't sleep: she was equal excited and nervous, but still, she managed to wake up early, not able to stay still in bed any minute longer. Despite having just slept a couple of hours, she wasn't tired at all. On the other hand, the adrenaline that was rushing through her veins even allowed her to draw one more design during the thirty minutes' train ride, finally adding it to her portfolio, which she had under her arm, before she arrived at Tsukishiro's production house.

Tsukishiro's production house was located at west of Tokyo. It was a high building of gray walls and lots of big windows, that looked more like an acting academy. It didn't take long for Tomoyo to sit at a meeting room, where a secretary told her to wait, as she gave her a bottle of water and a plate with cookies. She was so nervous that she felt she couldn't eat anything, but made sure to drink a bit of water, so to refresh her throat.

"Miss Daidouji, good morning." Said that familiar voice, from the meeting room's door. After all, being twins, Yukito and Yue had the exact same voice.

"Mr. Tsukishiro." Answered Tomoyo, rushing to get up.

After closing the door behind him, Yukito walked up to the girl, and they both shook hands.

Then, the white-haired man helped her to take a seat, and walking to the other side of the table, finally sat in front of her, so they could see each other eye to eye.

The first part of the interview consisted in a brief recap of Tomoyo's professional life. Her beginnings in art, her choice for fashion design, and the different jobs she had had, as she also worked as an assistant for Yukito's twin brother.

It was then when the girl's portfolio found its place over the table, right in Tsukishiro's hands, who took his time to look through all those designs as they kept talking.

"So, if I understood correctly, you're also working on your own, doing makeovers."

Daidouji said yes.

"I like to always give my honest opinion. At the end of the day, my clients always end up taking a bit of my essence on their fashion sense."

"So, that means you also have some expertice in management?"

Once again she said yes, despite not quite understanding the question.

"Well, you see…" Yukito continued, passing a couple more pages. "I don't know if you read a lot but… Well, we just bought the rights of these books a couple of months ago, and we're planning to start filming this trilogy soon… What I mean is that the fans of the saga already have an idea of how everything must look, you know how the youngsters always want everything to be the closest to the original material, but still, we think we should run some risks, do some changes."

"What trilogy are we talking about?" asked Tomoyo, sliding to the very end of her chair, visibly excited.

Yukito's words could only mean young adult, and considering the target audience, she was more than sure that this was the opportunity she had been looking for obtain the recognition as a designer that she had been dreaming of.

Tsukishiro closed the black-haired girl's portfolio, as he smiled at her.

"I'll tell you if you sign with us."

They stayed at the meeting room for another hour. Tomoyo and Yukito read the contract that the secretary soon brought them, and after doing some minor changes, finally both of them signed each and every one of the pages. The contract (for better or worse) only considered the first movie's workload (about a year and a half), since Yukito didn't want to force Tomoyo to keep working on such a heavy project if she better wanted to focus later on her own personal business. After that, they both ate lunch in that same room, while Yukito explained Tomoyo the saga that was about to be produced. The book's author had even draw for them some sketches of how the characters, clothing and even scenery must look. Tomoyo hurried to take some notes and save those sketches in her portfolio, so she could look at them later on, and analyze them at her place, at her own pace.

She and Yukito could've spent the rest of the day talking about that project, if it weren't for the important phone call that the white-haired man had to suddenly attend. He apologized to her, and after asking her to come back the next day so to keep talking about the project, he walked out of the meeting room, leaving her alone.

She didn't stay that long either. Since it was useless to stay there, Tomoyo finished putting all the papers inside her portfolio, and hugging it, she also walked out the meeting room, ready to go back home to attend the last of her errands before she could fully dedicate herself to that new project.

Her head was in the clouds. She could only think that she needed to go to the nearest bookstore and buy those books so she could get into the story, and start with the costume design. Movie filming was set to start in four months, and even it sounded really far away, she was quite certain it wouldn't be enough. She was so lost in her thoughts, that was walking without noticing where her feet took her. She walked out of the meeting room, and walked down the third floor hall, ignoring the elevator and walking down the emergency stairs. Her mind was so full of all those ideas she wanted to share with Yukito next time she saw him, that she didn't notice someone else was walking up those same stairs. That other person also didn't notice her (she was walking so slowly that her steps did not make any noise), until it was too late.

As if it were a cliché scene from a teenage movie, their bodies collided halfway the stairs, and her portfolio slipped from her arms, up the air, opening along the way, and spilling its content everywhere. As if filmed in slow motion, all the papers flew above their heads, and slowly descended, as they couldn't do anything but look at each other, while holding their breath and their heartbeat accelerated.

How small could the world be? Was it even possible that he was actually working with that production company? Her imagination flew far away, and she wondered if he would even be involved in the project she just had signed. what an irony would be if after their one-night stand they ended up working together for several years, with that sexual tension just increasing, growing deeper every time that they looked into each other's eyes.

"Hi." Was all she could say, and couldn't help but feel idiotic, especially when he didn't reply.

Kinomoto Touya bent down, and begun to pick up all the sheets. She hurried to help too, and did everything she could so their hands and fingers would never touch; she was quite sure that if that ever happened, she wouldn't be able to hold it, and she would jump into his arms, asking for a hug, a kiss. Why did he affected her so much? What did the man have that made her thoughts so numb? She didn't quite understand it. She had already seen some of his movies, and that was it. She hadn't fallen in love with his looks, or became a hardcore fan, investigating everything she could of his private life on the internet. He was simply a famous actor whom she already knew his name and image. So why did she felt that way when he was in front of her? What had changed?

She stood up when she felt that she had a handful of papers in her hands, and waited for Kinomoto to do the same. However, he remained crouched, looking at the sketches he had now in his hands. He looked at some of the photos that were part of the girl's portfolio, and showcased her own designs. Some of them where teenage and young fashion, some others where cocktail dresses. He also looked at a pair of the sketches she had just seen with Yukito, for the project she had just been hired.

For a moment, she wanted to tell him she had just signed a contract in that production company. That it was quite plausible that she would end working there for several years, and so she wanted to ask him if he used to be there frequently, just to know if it was probably they ended up bumping into each other again. But all those questions remained stuck in her throat when Kinomoto finally stood up and placed the rest of her papers inside her portfolio. He gave her a last look, before walking up a couple of steps, facing his back to her. Tomoyo couldn't move. That was it? It wasn't that different from how they had bumped at each other before, in the bar, at the bathroom, or at the suite, but still…

Three steps up, Kinomoto stopped and turned slowly. He had to lower his gaze so to fix his eyes on her. Three steps where more than enough for Tomoyo to barely reach his stomach, and that only made her feel so small and insignificant… Her heart stopped when she saw him part his lips.

"Are you free tonight?"

"Yes." She replied in a thin voice, hugging her portfolio.

Kinomoto gave her half a smile, and hid his hands in his pants pockets. Didn't look at her once more before turning his back to her again, and continued walking up the stairs. Still, there was no need of any other word so Tomoyo could know she must wait for another message.

It arrived at sunset, and once again, was extremely short:

"10 p.m."

Attached, there was a location. Tomoyo ignored the wardrobe makeover she was doing for a client, and hurried to grab her phone, read the message and open the location in her map app. It was a random street at Tokyo's downtown. Nothing special. She wasn't quite sure if she had to answer to the message; confirming she'll be there. Still, before she could press the white bar so to type her answer, she understood there was no need for her to say anything. He knew she'll be there. She knew it too. Maybe he already knew she'll do anything he'll every ask her.

She tried to keep her mind busy with the clothing she had still to organize, although she couldn't stop feeling her legs trembling every time she thought about the message, the address and him. In the end, she had to ignore her own work, and spent the rest of the afternoon in her bedroom, looking for what to wear. It was like suddenly, all she owned wasn't the right thing. She couldn't find a single thing worth, among that huge pile of pants, shorts, skirts, dresses, shirts, blouses, t-shirts…

At 9 p.m. sharp, she had to throw everything overboard, and wear the first thing she found. If she didn't, she would've been late, and to be honest, she couldn't even think of it. She finally left her apartment at nine thirty, dressing a simple baggy white shirt, a thick dark jacket with a shiny print on her back (the same she had just finished last week), a mid-leg black short, dark tennis shoes and a black purse that hit her in the leg every step she made, and which strap crossed her chest, enhancing it even more. A combination that looked urban, but that was just her style. If she was going to present herself in front of him, it had to be in her own skin, her own style, and not in a fancy dress tailored specifically for an elegant gala, but in what she would wear in her everyday life. This included wearing minimal makeup (just her usual dark mascara and red lipstick), while wearing her hair loose, which reached her down to her waist.

She arrived at the indicated location just in time, and had to wait just a minute for a black car to stop right next to her. A man stepped out and opened the door for her, telling that he had been told to pick her up, and so, after a short ride to one of the city's more luxurious neighborhoods, the vehicle parked in the basement of a beautiful and elegant residency.

In the basement, there was a row of expensive vehicles, parked next to each other. For a moment, she couldn't speak. It was just impossible for her to be there. How had she got there? Did it mean he had just invited her to his own place? The place where he lived… That was just too much intimacy for a second shot, especially when they hadn't defined the limits of whatever they were doing.

The driver indicated the nervous girl the way to go up to the hall, a way she had to make on her own. She didn't even get an opportunity to reply (the driver had already gotten up the car and closed the door), and so, clinging to her purse strap, she started walking through that dimly lit corridor, that was actually not that long, and culminated in a spiral staircase. The staircase ended up in a tiny room that also had a dim lit. however, opening the door that was in front of her, she had to blink a few times so to get used to the bright lights.

The room she was in now was the foyer of the luxurious home. A large chandelier with a thousand diamonds was hanging just above a round crystal table, that had a huge arrangement of red roses as its only decoration. The door through which Tomoyo had just emerged, was located on the left side of the foyer (while another identical door was located on the right side), under the carpeted staircase that opened in a T-shape, and led to the second floor of the residence.

Opposite of the staircase, was the enormous front door, which was flanked by two huge statues with several ramifications. She approached and looked closely; it gave the feeling as she was looking at some tree trunks that had slept during winter, waiting for spring to return so they could fill up with flowers again. She could've spent hours looking at the statues, but did her best not to, and proceeded to look around a bit more. Her gaze went up the stairs: at the point where it divided to finally reach the second floor, the naked wall was decorated by a huge painting that was just sporadic brushstrokes in different shades of blue and yellow, and made her think of a sunset at the beach. It felt all so surreal.

She kept on looking at the painting, when a tall figure made her look away. Kinomoto Touya was at the top of the stair, looking at her with his brows furrowed, and his hands in his pockets. That night, he was wearing oxford shoes, a black suit pant, and a dark gray cardigan. Tomoyo couldn't help but think if she was supposed to wait for him to walk down the stairs, or was she supposed to go up to meet him. For a moment, she felt self-conscious; not only cause the elegance and opulence of the place, but for the clothing she had chosen to wear. Basically, an outfit that had no place at the atmosphere that surrounded her. What was she thinking when she decided to dress like that? It might be a reflection of her soul, true to her essence, but it simply revealed what she wasn't ready to listen: she didn't belong there.

"Come."

Touya's voice brought her back to earth. It had felt like a soft caress on her cheek, and at the same time, like a direct hit down her stomach. Pushing down her fists in her jacket pockets, with her purse once again hitting her leg every step she took, she started walking up the stairs. She made it halfway and turned to see him. She had to look up to see something that wasn't just his fancy shoes. With her gaze fixed on him (and him looking at her from head to toes), she finally finished climbing the stairs, being on the same level, except that actually she barely reached his shoulder.

"Follow me." He said with an authoritative voice.

Kinomoto turned around, and started walking down the long corridor, filled with statues and which walls were covered in countless paintings. Tomoyo had to hurry to keep his pace, but still, didn't dare to walk side by side. She remained behind, looking at his broad shoulders, until they finally reached the end of the hall, and stopped.

The dark-haired man opened the door and told her to get in first. Once again, when she saw where they were, she knew what he was expecting from her. It was only logical. Why else would a celebrity as Kinomoto would look at a girl like her? The worst of it was that despite she knew what he wanted from her, didn't bother her at all; on the other hand, she wanted it. That he touched her again, whether with love or lust, was the important thing.

There was a high window with white silk curtains, that probably during the day would allow the sunlight to iluminate every corner of the bedroom; but right then, at night, the curtains offered enough privacy by not even letting their shadows to be seen from outside. Just as in the house basement, the lightning was dim, and just as in the rest of the house, there were also some sculptures, and a huge painting (a Parisian landscape in black and white) hanging behind the bed.

While looking at the bed (king size with wine-colored silk sheets), Tomoyo could feel how Touya slipped behind her, and held a lock of her long and straight hair, running his fingersthrough it, playing with it, until finally letting it go. Kinomoto then pushed her hair aside, exposing her neck, and then slid his index finger along her back, causing an electric shock to run through all her body. That feeling remained in each and every pore of her skin, even when he finally let go.

Kinomoto walked around her, and stopped in front of Tomoyo. One hand in his pocket, the other one in his lips. His face expression indicated a strange concentration, and so, he looked at her once more, from head to toe, before saying:

"Take off your jacket and shoes."

The jacket fell to the floor making a thud, just as her bag, while her tennis shoes bounced a couple of times, until finally stopping. Her socks didn't take long to make them company. She stood there, with her white shirt and black short, waiting. Kinomoto was still looking at her, and so she felt that it was getting really hard to breathe.

He took off his figer from his lips, and with just a sign, he told her to get closer to the bed. Tomoyo sat on the edge of the mattress, looking up so to see his face. Kinomoto stopped in front of her, and holding her chin, stroked her cheek. She couldn't help but close her eyes, feeling that warm touch, that soon died. A soft push in her shoulder told her to lay down, and still with her eyes closed, she did it. It didn't take long for her to feel the warmth of his body over hers; how a hand slid down her shirt, caressing her stomach, and the bottom edge of her bra, while those thin lips where looking for her neck. His breath went down her breasts, and the caresses went down her legs. Once again, she let him handle the situation, it was up to him to lead the way.

She was quite sure that, this time again, she would have to leave right away. The clock said it was already past 3 a.m., but Tomoyo was sure that once she made her way down to the basement, the black car would already be there, waiting for her, to take her wherever she asked. While Kinomoto just sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her in silence, she got up, and with her naked body still smelling of his fragrance, she began to look for her clothes around the bedroom's floor. She got dressed in the darkness, in silence, and in solitude. She had already put on her jacket, and had tied her hair in a messy ponytail, while her purse was already hanging from her shoulder, meaning she was more than ready to leave. But still, when she took her tennis shoes, it became impossible to her to put them on, and instead, turned around to look at his silhouette.

"Will we do this again?" She asked in a whisper.

He took his time to answer.

"Just if you want."

She held back the urge to nod. Still with her shoes in hand, she took her time to organize her thoughts, and ask a new question.

"Shouldn't you at least know who I am? I know your name; who you are, what you do. But for you, I'm just a stranger. Wouldn't you at least want to know my name?"

Kinomoto didn't answer. Tomoyo didn't know if his silence meant she was allowed to speak, or if actually he didn't want to know. She waited for a whole minute, before concluding that, even if he didn't want to hear it, she had all the right to introduce herself.

"Daidouji Tomoyo." She finally said. "Fashion designer." He didn't even react, as he continued to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at her.

So Tomoyo had no other choice than to finally kneel down so to put on her tennis shoes. When she stood up, she once again looked at him. His position hadn't change at all.

"I got to go." She said in a weak voice.

She once again hid her fists in her jacket pockets, and proceed to walk towards the bedroom door. However, she hand't taken more than two steps, when out of the corner of her eye, she could see how he finally moved. She stopped to look at him, and there he was, covering his crotch with the wine-red sheets, and one hand reaching for her. Was he planning to pull her once again to the bed, so to fuck her again?

"Give it to me." Was the only thing he said, and she instantly understood what he meant.

She pulled her purse up front her, and looked inside for a second. She finally pulled out her phone, and gave it to him. Once again, Kinomoto showed her the locked screen, and waited for her to unlock it. Tomoyo's finger drew the same pattern as last time, and once again, Kinomoto looked at the screen, and after less than a minute, he returned it to her. Tomoyo held it close to her chest.

"Send me a message as soon as you arrive home."

She nodded in silence. Kinomoto said no other word, and Tomoyo understood that as an indication that she was allowed to leave. She knew she was right when she turned to lock the door behind her, and saw him laying down once again, not even looking at her. She then let her phone slide inside her purse, and walked back the long hallway, until she reached the foyer.

She walked down the stairs, and went through the door she came before, where after going down the spiral staircase, she reached the basement, and met the black car that had picked her up before.

The driver took her straight to her apartment building. It was so late that she was sure all her neighbors where already sleep, so she tried to make as little sound as possible; she even refrained from turning on the lights until she had closed the door behind her back.

Once again, she dropped her jacket to the floor and kicked her tennis shoes under the table in her tiny hall. She placed her purse over said table, and ready to fulfill her promise, she took out her phone to send a message.

She unlocked the screen as she walked down the hall, towards her room. She opened her message app when she turned the lights on, and dropped onto the bed as she opened that last text she had received.

What she saw made her smile like an idiot. She was already feeling so happy to know that she was allowed to text him, even if it was only to say that she had arrived safe and sound. But now, as she looked how that phone number didn't say "unknown" any longer, she couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. The contact name had changed, and now it said "K. Touya". Did it mean she was allowed to call him by his name?

She hurried to send the message, before falling asleep, with a smile on her face.

Once again, I'm so sorry for all the gramatical mistakes you may have encountered here.

XOXO Ribo-