Characters: Shizuo Heiwajima, President Lory Takarada, Sho Fuwa, Kyoko Mogami, Tsuruga Ren, Moko, Izaya Orihara, Yukihito Yashiro

Chapter Three: In Which Shizuo is Packed Off and Kyoko Sews Another Version of Orihara Izaya

Luckily for Shizuo, it wasn't an acting job that the President wanted him for. It was a stunt double. And, well, in this case — spy.

"I've been having trouble with a certain actor, er, musician, Sho Fuwa," said President Lory Takarada.

Shizuo shrugged. Sure, Sho was popular, so Shizuo knew him. Didn't like him. The man always had the air of an unassailable, smug jerk on TV. But — wasn't he in a competing agency?

"I think you have the legs, the build and approximately the right face. You have the blonde hair already. So, in a pinch, you could pass for him. You also have the survivor skills, and the strength. You'll be his stunt double. At the level you will be doing it, you won't need training, yet." Lory paused. Shizuo's brain lurched into motion; "yet". Lory was going to send him into training later? "It's choreography, you see; the stunt coordinator should fill you in on how to do that, and I trust your natural talents will fill in. You were street-fighting with your friend Orihara, weren't you, in the audition?" Shizuo almost objected to the word "friend," but nodded. Lory pursed his lips, but continued. "LME gets a bonus, a little extra payment, when we rent out our people to our rivals." Lory inspected his nails. "The only troubling thing is that you are a bit tall, and perhaps a mite too strong, but that's what people are least likely to notice."

So that made sense. A good job for him, thought Shizuo. Except, how much would he have to fake his strength?

"You can do it, Shizuo-kun. In addition, I would like you to investigate Sho Fuwa and discover what kind of relationship Kyoko has with him."

Shizuo cocked his head. That orange-haired girl in the LoveMe section...? Kyoko, wasn't it?

"Two of my top actors are involved with him and I want to know why, and what it means. There's something suspicious. Of course I am not supposed to know about it and there is no opportune moment to ask them — not that they'd tell me the truth, I'm sure." Lory rolled his eyes. "Everyone has secrets, but some are more dangerous than others."

Shizuo raised his head. "Isn't this spying?"

"Problem?" asked Lory brightly, tapping the contract.

"'All people are equal, but some are more equal than others,'" Shizuo quoted stolidly from Animal Farm.

Lory shrugged. "It's not like I'm going to do anything with the information. What I really need it for is to evaluate where they are coming from, and address their problems appropriately. Or simply to confront them about it."

"If that's all..." said Shizuo, and put on his blue shades.

Lory nodded.

"Fine." Shizuo put on fingered his shades and glared over the top.

Lory lifted his hands beneficently. "What else?"

"You realize that I know nothing of the two actors you're talking about."

"I'll give you a précis of all the facts which I know about them." Lory drew a manila envelope from his suit, pretending to be sneaky. "Memorize it on the way."

"Yeah, right. I'll keep it. So I'm an agent," said Shizuo, unimpressed. "Do I need to stay undercover?"

Lory's smile was extra boyish. "Quite. Here it is. Start studying. You'll get a chance to actually get to know them later; I know you'll like them."

Shizuo rolled his eyes and uncrossed his long legs. "Yes, sir. And, I'll be the judge of that." He stood, accepted the packet, and stalked away.

Halfway across Japan on a plane to wherever the hell the set was, Shizuo realized that the packet was not helpful at all. He'd always been a slow reader, but he should have realized sooner. That evil, evil man...

Kyoko had no specific past, and Tsuruga Ren had no connections to the name "Fuwa." That is, when Tsuruga's file said anything; a lot of it had been censored by request of the actor. His entire childhood had been blocked out, for example, and his parentage was missing. His name itself was a stage name, but his "real" name wasn't listed. It was curious, but didn't matter; it just made it hard to judge whether it was true that his only connection to Sho Fuwa was through Kyoko. Speaking of which, what was the relationship between them?

So, Kyoko's past: Father? None. Mother? Yes... but no location, no address. She didn't even have a signed permission slip, although Kyoko was only seventeen. (Lory wrote that he had waived the requirement after a short interview with her on the subject.) Guardians? None. Emergency contacts? Most recently, two contacts in Tokyo, owners of the shop where Kyoko rented a room. These were the signatures that Lory obtained to allow Kyoko to work for LME. Also, there were two more contacts in Kyoto, at Sho's parents' ryokan.

Okay, so they were childhood friends, or Kyoko had worked for them, or something. Yet, why would she hate Sho, but keep his parents' information? Nothing he had seen explained the bad blood between them. Sure, fights happened between friends, but one would think they would have been resolved or kept within private circles. There weren't even any confused rumors, except those that said Kyoko had joined LME because she 'idolized' Sho Fuwa and wanted to get closer to Ren Tsuruga. Completely backwards. The notion was laughable. There was Lory's sticky note which said that Sawara-san believed the rumors, much to the President's chagrin and Kyoko's innocent bewilderment. He ended the note with a smiley-face, which Shizuo took to mean that he was too amused by the misunderstanding to fix it.

Working history. Ah. Kyoko had worked with Sho Fuwa in public during the filming of a short wordless promo clip. There were no significant incidents on her record. Not what he expected. There must have been problems—there were cryptic mentions of "altercations" between Kyoko and Fuwa, and yet paradoxically, she also "successfully defused potential problems between Fuwa and his costar"; was this where Lory got concerned? Kyoko's last file was her initial audition application, where it stated that her goal was to "beat Sho Fuwa," her favorite word was "revenge," and her picture was frowning at the camera. The last piece of paperwork showed that she had dropped out after middle school, only to join the working students' night school a year or two later.

The file contained more than enough hints. But, at best, it was circumstantial evidence, and Shizuo didn't have Sho's files to compare it to. Shizuo didn't know how much uncertainty Lory could accept which he didn't know already. Distantly, he wondered if Takarada was giving him a task to waste his time.

Rapping the plane chair's handles impatiently, Shizuo inwardly railed against lazy, millionaire CEOs with nothing better to do. Too bad he didn't have a toothpick — he'd forgotten to pack them — and cigarettes were contraband, of course. If he could just get off the blipping plane already.

Sho Fuwa hadn't been informed about the stunt double. He was... brusque, to put it mildly. Obnoxious. He had an edge that said that he didn't give a damn about anyone but himself, but when he cared, his sweet talk would smooth things over until he got what he wanted. He didn't even bother with that often. His manager made motions to soothe Shizuo's feelings, and made the meeting follow smoothly, but Sho stared broodingly and said little, except to make an occasional biting comment.

It was enough to make Shizuo bristle, but he controlled himself because he knew that this guy knew nothing about fighting. The man was all bluff, no strength or skill; if Shizuo so much as 'played' with him, this guy would die — or at least ruin his pretty face. So Shizuo kept his temper. If his last name was Heiwajima, he ought to be able to live up to it, sometimes.

Fuwa treated everyone like a servant. Shizuo wondered how Kyoko had put up with that; she seemed like an intelligent girl, even if a little daft. Maybe that had something to do with their relationship now...

After his role in the scene had been explained, and they had been waiting for thirty minutes, Shizuo decided it was time to start up a conversation. Sho was probably sweltering in his heavy black synthetic costume just like Shizuo. They were just two bad-tempered guys in sweltering Okinawa heat. That was enough to have in common. Sho would talk.

"Hey — Fuwa-sempai." Shizuo waved to Sho.

Sho grunted.

Shizuo took out a lighter and idly flicked it open, flicked it shut. "So, what's it like, being an actor, huh?" Sho gave him a half-disbelieving, quizzical look like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Shizuo pretended to take no notice. "Isn't that the first question one has when they enter the movie business?" he continued.

Sho narrowed his eyes.

"You see... I know a bit of the movie business. You know my brother Yuuhei? His real name is Kasuka."

"Can't say I have."

"Yeah. Maybe not. He's as quiet as the grave outside of when he's acting." Shizuo shrugged. "Anyway. I always wondered what his life was like. He never would—well, maybe never could—tell me about it. That's why I followed him into showbiz. I couldn't keep a steady job, you know. So I thought, oh, what the hell, why don't I try that too? Maybe I have talent. But I don't know that much of what the daily grind is like. Thought maybe you could give me an idea." The best lies were the ones closest to the truth, and this was much easier to explain than the truth.

Sho scraped the floor with his boot. "Maybe. I can't speak for him, or for stunt men like you, of course. My career is a little different," he said, with some smugness.

Shizuo couldn't help bristling at that, but he soon quashed his irritation. "Yeah. You're a musician, right?"

"Mostly, yes. But, because every time I write a new song I have to make a video that goes with it, there is an element of acting." Sho flexed his hands in their faux-leather gloves and gave a sly smile.

"Sure. Do you work with other actors a lot?" Shizuo leaned back casually, hands in his pockets.

Sho's face blanked, then hooded. "Sure. Of course. Once or twice."

"Oh? That's not usual?"

Sho shook his head. "This is only the twelfth video I've made, and the third I've done with costars not from my own band."

So that's why he had so few people skills.

"You seem tense. Did something happen?"

His face positively grayed. "Yes, on my sixth video, the second with costars. There was this one... An angel more demonic than the devil..." Sho shook his head. "She's crazy. Of course she was trying to kill me in the script, but there were about three takes when we had to convince her not to kill me for real..." Sho looked a bit too sly for Shizuo to take what he said at face value...or even half-value, come to that.

Maybe this was what the President had been getting at. Shizuo felt a bit uneasy. Devil, as in that blue demon-thing? Sho was probably talking about Kyoko. "Oh? I'm not sure I see."

"There was a promo clip," Sho explained impatiently. "I was the devil, and she was supposed to kill me out of love for this other angel whose love for me was killing her. A bit complicated. But, like I said, the girl took a bit too much pleasure in pretending to murder me."

Shizuo's jaw dropped. Sentimental, much? Or suicidal? "She got it right, though, in the end?"

"Yeah. I was the one who made the mistake, actually," Sho admitted.

"How so?"

"I knew she wanted her revenge. I underestimated how important the character was, to her. I lost, and Kyoko's going to surpass me in popularity at any moment. I underestimated her." Sho rolled his eyes.

He admitted it. "It sounds like you know her quite well," Shizuo said, and forced himself to sound confused.

"I've known her since ... we played together as children. She changed quite a bit. She used to work at our ryokan, and we went to middle school together, you see." Sho swallowed, and his jaw moved under taut cheeks. From the corner of her eye, Sho's manager picked up on it immediately, and she turned, focusing on the exchange between Shizuo and Sho. Noticing her, Sho immediately cleared his throat and put a brave face on. "The experience of acting with her was unsettling."

Definitely Kyoko, then. Middle school together — that was interesting. Did Sho have anything to do with Kyoko's dropping out? Shizuo flicked the lighter on and off one more time. For peace of mind, of course. The atmosphere was definitely tense.

"A school grudge?" Shizuo offered, lightly.

Sho snorted. "You could call it that. Delusions of grandeur."

On a hunch, Shizuo finally asked, "Do you have any rivals?"

Sho scowled. "Of course I do. Tsuruga Ren. He's the most popular actor of our generation!"

The fact that the two stars weren't even really in the same area of showbiz, and yet were somehow haggling over popularity (at least in Sho's mind), nagged Shizuo. But at least now he had his answer.

Sho grumbled, "My Ex seems to be going out with him these days, too. And that was after she professed to hate him all those years she spent with me!"

Hmm. No telling who that was. Shizuo suppressed a sigh, and snapped the lighter's lid shut. He was done here. He doubted he would find out much more than this.

Sho stole a glance sideways. "Do they allow those on set?" he sneered.

Shizuo shrugged. "Don't know unless you tell." He stowed it in his pocket.

"Well, stop it. Don't add to the heat. It's hotter than hell." Sho stood up and strode off. He rested deeper in the shade and hovered by his manager's shoulder, who asked him questions in a concerned, urgent half-whisper. It was impossible to tell whether Sho was paying attention to her or not.

Shizuo did exactly as he was told when he was told. There were few chances for graceful creativity in the scene, but where Shizuo could work it in, he did, and felt a fierce sharp jet of pride flare from under his breastbone. He was praised with seventy-five points in stamps. When he changed back into his LoveMe uniform, the crew decided he looked strong, and recruited him to safely haul equipment. Shizuo could have carried more weight than they allowed him to, but he listened to their protestations of "safety concerns" and let the matter rest.

Moko and Kyoko showed up at work promptly and changed into their uniforms, as usual. Moko and Kyoko checked in with their manager, Sawara-san, for the morning pep talk and work schedule update, as usual. Then Moko and Kyoko met their new coworker. That was not usual. As requested, Moko and Kyoko graciously (that is, without saying a word, despite Izaya's chattering) escorted said coworker to the boys' new LoveMe locker rooms. Moko and Kyoko waited until Izaya emerged from the locker room dressed in bright shocking pink with the characteristic LoveMe logo. Moko and Kyoko exchanged glances.

Izaya, of course, was beaming. He could act, too. He could endure anything.

Kyoko and Moko mentally agreed that this ritual was boring and irritating when Izaya failed to become bothered. Moko and Kyoko tried to keep Izaya busy. Unlike them in their early days, Izaya wasted no time angsting over the embarrassing aspects of his job. Izaya behaved impeccably. The staff loved him. The actors and actresses at the training school adored him right off. He got 200+ points in his stamp-book the very first day on the job, and Kyoko burned with jealousy with flaming spurts of disgust for the actions of her past self. For all of her first week, she had gotten negative points. Not that Moko was disposed to like him either; she went by Kyoko's wariness, and kept her distance.

Oh, they hated him. He was too good to be true, and he knew it, and didn't bother to hide the fact that he knew it from them. In this respect the LoveMe members were probably wiser than three quarters of the people who got involved with him in Ikebukuro, or the rest of LME's staff, although for no better reason than luck.

Kyoko started to make her first voodoo doll of Izaya, complete with the shocking pink uniform. Although ostensibly it might be used for black magic, she never actually did it — Kyoko had long ago turned the activity into an exercise for other purposes. Maria-chan sometimes frightened her a bit with how into it she actually was. Kyoko was upset, so she wanted to make Izaya's doll while she was thinking through her problems.

Tsuruga spied her making it on the stairs, deep in thought, that day.

"Shouldn't you be working?"

Kyoko sniffed. "It's lunch break, Tsuruga-san. I've eaten already. Have you?"

"Yes, of course," he said hastily, and cast around for another subject. What was that in her hands? "Another doll? It's been awhile since the last one. The last was mine, wasn't it?"

Kyoko turned around with a deeply gloomy face. Tsuruga almost took a step back. Kyoko's voice dropped. "The last ones were all yours, Tsuruga-san..."

"Oh, really?" said Tsuruga, trying not to laugh.

"All eleven ... in the past nine months..."

Tsuruga chuckled nervously. "It's been that long since you started at LoveMe, huh?" said Tsuruga, now feeling the first prickles of regret that he had started this conversation.

"Yes." Kyoko turned back to her work, sewing slowly and methodically. "Before that, it was Sho Fuwa, of course. I only have eight of him, though—that was after three years. He didn't like me seeing him in his costumes on TV," she said matter-of-factly.

The laughter within Tsuruga died completely. When he could at last reply, he rasped, "So. Who's this guy?"

Kyoko answered, "Izaya Orihara. He just joined the LoveMe section. He has two hundred points already." She growled.

"I see." That fast. It was surprising. Perhaps he would slow down later.

Sensing he was not impressed, she flared. "He's an absolute demon!" Kyoko growled.

Tsuruga found that ironic, coming from her. He raised an eyebrow. If he's got two hundred points already...

"I just don't get it," she grumbled. "Why has he got an interest in us? The LoveMe section? Something he said implied that he deliberately set himself up to fail the audition in such a way that would attract Lory's attention. And that other guy, Shizuo Heiwajima. They don't even seem like each other. It just doesn't add up." She hunched over the doll, hands clenched extra tight. "I don't understand it at all. What do they want?"

Before she could say another word, Tsuruga leaned over her and plucked the doll from her fingers. Kyoko fumbled the needle, and it sunk into her thumb deep enough to draw blood, so that she gasped. Immediately, cursing his thoughtlessness, Tsuruga set down the mess again, caught her hand and sucked the welling blood from her finger before he could so much as think about it. He hated seeing blood. For her part, Kyoko forgot to breathe, and her eyes wouldn't blink until he pulled away. Fishing in his pockets, he found his wallet, opened the appropriate pocket, took out a band-aid, and wrapped up the thumb.

Tsuruga kept up his tight grip on her hand. "Don't think about it too much, Kyoko-chan." Actually, it was as much to her as it was to himself... Ach, blood... How could he be so stupid as to act on impulse around needles? As if he needed a reminder...

Kyoko's heart was still beating extra hard from the encounter. It took effort, but at last she lifted her eyes from her hand to his face, and cried, "But I failed—as an actress!"

Tsuruga blinked. "What? How?"

"The needle, it made a mark!" Kyoko panicked, and the tears streaked her face to drip on her pink suit, near her section badge. She raked her free hand through her orange hair.

Then he remembered— Back when he didn't understand Kyoko, he had told her that to take better care of herself, and especially her face, was an actor's responsibility. Of course that was important, but... apparently she had taken him completely seriously.

It wouldn't be the first time when his well-intentioned advice went wildly off mark. Speaking of that, the entire misunderstanding after she had filled in for Yashiro was like that; what she said didn't necessarily indicate what she felt, and he had been an idiot to think she would disclose her full thoughts in public. He regretted what he had done then now.

Tsuruga cut in soothingly. "Oh, Kyoko-chan. Look, it was my fault. It's only your hand. It will heal in a day or two, and there aren't that many close-ups on your hands like on your face. It will be fine. I've sewed things before, so I know."

She stopped crying. "Huh? Oh, oh." Kyoko dried her cheeks, and sighed. "I must be tired, huh? I stayed up rather late last night making cabbage roses for my landlord. Which was fun, but— Sorry I overreacted."

"I — I guess so. Kyoko? It can't be that bad," said Tsuruga softly. "Please don't worry. Can't you talk to them?"

She pulled her hand away and dipped her face in shame. "I— I can't."

"Why not?"

"I didn't tell you what happened before. I should have, but I was afraid — too much was happening. What if you didn't believe me? I think I alluded to it, but I couldn't have made much sense. Izaya found my vulnerable spot, just like the Beagle did. He blackmailed me." She wiped her eyes. "It wasn't important, what he asked, but what if it happens again? It will work every time. I can't avoid Orihara-san. He's in my section."

"I see."

"They both can see them. Both Orihara-san and Heiwajima-san. I don't know what to do."

"See what?"

"Pandora's Box." She told him about the kidnapping of her fairy-demons, and the blackmail.

"So that explains it," said Tsuruga. "I can't see them at all, except for your scary aura."

Kyoko shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

"I thought—" Kyoko hiccuped.

Tsuruga shook his head. "Forget what I said. I thought I was talking about something else." He left his gaze drift to the side distractedly. "Don't hide those things from me again. I was worried about you, after both Sho and the Beagle went after you."

They sat silent for some moments, except for Kyoko hiccuping irregularly before she got herself under control.

Finally, Tsuruga spoke. "I'll make inquiries. Take care of yourself, Kyoko. I'll be your backup." He frowned. "Although actually, from a practical standpoint, Yashiro-san might be better in this case; I know he'll try to help you. If it's an emergency, call him first. Take it from me, he's chilling when he's angry, although you probably can't imagine that." Tsuruga mused on a memory from early in his acting career. "Anyway, he might know more about his spirit business — you know how he's always breaking his cell phone...?"

To his surprise, Kyoko hugged him quick and hard, and sprang away before he quite realized what had happened. "Thank you. Thank you so much. S-s-sorry to bother you!" Blushing, she backed away again, and bowed deeply. She rushed off jittery and desperate not to think about what she had just done...

In her wake, Tsuruga felt a bit small and lost sitting on the stairs by himself. "Put some Neosporin on it!" he called after her.

She half-turned to wave and called back, still running, "Yes! Thank you! Will do!" And she was gone, back on the job.

Tsuruga looked down. In her excitement and hurry, Kyoko had forgotten the half-made Izaya doll.

The least he could do was to look into these people. If he had to... Tsuruga hated to think of what would happen if he had to knock down their careers, but at this point it would be easy. He was their sempai after all, and a powerful, renowned actor, and everyone gave him a little leeway in his behavior because he was not precisely native Japanese. Still. If only this situation didn't worry Kyoko so.

He didn't want to see her worry, especially over another man. Sometimes, Kyoko took him so seriously that it scared Tsuruga. He showed the grey side of his character so rarely. He knew she saw past his smiling lying face, but that was natural to his mask of Tsuruga Ren, and not his ... real self, which was the source of the unexpected bouts of ambivalent greyness that confused her. He believed she could get past this, though, since they were fast becoming friends. If working her feelings out with sewing helped her, so much the better. But as much as possible, he didn't want her thinking about her ex-boyfriend, Sho, or... anyone else, really; she tended to obsess over the people who posed a danger to her. Like this Orihara guy.

Yeah, right. If he were honest with himself — he knew what Yashiro would say — he was plain jealous.

He couldn't get closer, but he had to protect her. He made his resolve. Talk to Orihara and Heiwajima, and find out what was going on.

"Ren?" Yashiro came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Ren?"

It took him a moment to swim out of the depths of his thoughts. The voice surprised him, so his limbs jerked a bit, and Yashiro took a step backwards — he probably was remembering his first make-or-break years as Tsuruga's manager. Tsuruga turned around. "It's all right. It's all right. I was just thinking."

Yashiro relaxed. "Oh-oooooh," said Yashiro, a sly and pleased smile stretching slowly over his face.

"It's nothing, really." Tsuruga forced a smile on his face, and thought, bubbles, sparkles, tiny hearts, think, anything cheery...

Yashiro frowned. "Lie to yourself, Ren, not to me. It has to do with Kyoko."

With some irritation (did Yashiro think every problem in his life had to do with Kyoko? Don't answer that—Yes, he did), Tsuruga started, "You always say that. How did—" Tsuruga cut himself off when he looked down and saw the tangle of doll, thread, and cloth on the ground. He bent and picked it up. "She left this..."

Yashiro sighed in one great gust. "Yare-yare." Concerned, Tsuruga checked him from the corner of his eyes. "You can give it back later. We need to go." Yashiro checked his watch. "Right. Let's eat."

"Huh?"

"Kyoko-chan says it's my job to help you eat, and I am taking her seriously. I made time. Saa. C'mon now."

"Yes," Tsuruga sighed, and allowed himself to be led. "All right. Hey, Yashiro-san, I just remembered to ask: how come you can wear a watch, but you always break a cell...?"

"There are rules, if you know... No, too complicated. Suffice it to say that wireless technologies that work in invisible ways are more easily disrupted by ambient magic?"

Oh, was that the case. Funny. A thought occurred to him. "Yashiro-san, have you ever seen anything flying around Kyoko?"

"Like what?"

"Blue spirits, or pink fairies. Things like that."

"Come to think of it..." Yashiro thought. "Sometimes. Also flying katakana. They're rather humorous. Why?"

"Really."

"Mm. When she's upset, or happy, gushing about characters, or in a daydream. Haven't you seen them? She has quite an aura."

"I guess ... not. I've felt the aura, though."

Yashiro nodded with self-satisfaction. "Mmm, mmm. Well, they tend to alarm people - if her anger is directed, they can see the spirits - but she's really a good person, so don't worry too much about it. It's nothing to be concerned about. it happens sometimes, and she has good control — I know that, because i's unusual for manifestations to so evenly represent the good and the evil sides of one's personality — otherwise I'd have coached her myself. She'll grow into it, or out of it, most likely. From the outside, it's an identity crisis of sorts."

Good control? Those huge aura spikes were an identity crisis?

Seeming to sense what he was thinking, Yashiro turned and smiled at him distractingly. "That's all I know. But I've always been close to my psychic side."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, my father's line was all detectives or fortune-tellers, and most had some degree of psychic ability. Rather strange situation, because they were competing with each other all the time from both sides of the law. I got a large dose of the psychic. My brothers think I'm odd. Babyish, you know, and I'm actually the oldest in the family — back then I behaved like that Tsukigomori director, if you can imagine it!" He nodded knowingly. "I got no respect, but never mind. This job is the best for me. Ren, get in and let's go eat!"

Yashiro gently pushed Tsuruga into the car, and Tsuruga gave up resistance, rolling his eyes. "Hai, hai..." Once in the car, he quizzed Yashiro. "So how did you know it was a Kyoko problem?"

Yashiro laughed. "Still thinking about that? It's simple, Ren. It's the eyes. You look different when you think about her."

"That so?" said Tsuruga, in a flat deep tone that hid all emotions and resisted Yashiro's best attempts at analysis.

Yashiro smirked despite himself. "Yes, I would know, wouldn't I?" Then a faint crease appeared between his eyebrows, and he let his voice deepen as he said, seriously, "Did you scare Kyoko today, Ren?"

"I don't think so. She was frightened already. There are some new people in the LoveMe section."

"Is that so? Who?"

"Nobody we know. Two nobodies who requested that assignment, and had enough talent and passion—I suppose—that the President let them in."

"So, who are the new girls?"

"Boys."

"What?"

"They're guys." Tsuruga sighed and leaned one elbow on the table, with his head on his hands.

"In hot pink? Those shocking pink uniforms? They volunteered?" Yashiro muttered in bewilderment, then speculated under his breath, "Romantic rivals?" No. He shook his head and waved his hands while Tsuruga stared at him. "No, nothing, nothing at all."

Tsuruga rolled his eyes and went on. "It's the opposite problem, I think. They're enemies, or so Kyoko thinks, although she wouldn't say that in so many words. Another Sho, another Beagle. Vie Ghoul, I mean." Tsuruga shook his head as if to clear it of ghosts.

A look of distinct unease settled on Yashiro's features, and he leaned forward urgently. "Ren, I don't know what happened last Valentine's Day exactly, but I know one thing: I never, ever, ever want to see Kyoko in that state again. And you know what happened best of all of us."

"I know." Tsuruga shifted and propped his chin on one hand. "I have to act." Then muttered, "—How does she attract these people?"

"Naturally," Yashiro said huffily, like an overbearing mother, then sat back as though he was disgusted with the whole matter and sighed again.

He'd been doing that a lot. "Are we late or something?" Tsuruga asked, in all innocence.

Yashiro jerked like he'd been zapped by static and a look of sick guilt—he'd been caught not doing his job—crossed his face. He stood and checked his watch. "Ah, that's right." Yashiro snapped back into job mode. "We won't spoil your perfect record, if that's what you were referring to. Finish your food, Ren." He snapped his briefcase open and fished around for Tsuruga's schedule, and repeated, "Finish your food, Ren."

"I'm trying," Tsuruga protested, eating as quickly as he knew how.

"Try harder. Kyoko would be mad at you." Yashiro shut the briefcase and headed to the front desk to pay the bill.

Tsuruga muttered sullenly, "Kyoko won't know I didn't finish," and took another bite.

Barely another minute passed, and then the impulse to hurry possessed Yashiro. "That's it, Ren. Let's go."

Aware that Yashiro was serious, Ren sputtered, "What? — weren't you the one who suggested this — ?" He gathered his stuff.

"That's right, and we're almost late, and so it's into the car we go," Yashiro said huffily over his shoulder. "Right. Now!" Tsuruga took off running after Yashiro, and they both piled panting into the car and Yashiro drove off. Yashiro ordered Tsuruga tensely, "We have five minutes. Ren, don't interrupt when I'm driving."

Tsuruga didn't think Yashiro had made himself worry about the commute for quite a long time — and it had been number of the years that he'd started working with him. Yashiro must have been seriously concerned, then, to stretch the schedule's limits so they could have this talk. For himself, Tsuruga wasn't worried at all. Yashiro's sense of time was too good to lose track; he would make it.