Wow, what a nice response! Thank you all - you guys sent me to my exam with a smile on my face. And I think it might have possibly gone well.

Anyway, here's a chapter to celebrate you guys being awesome!

I don't own Skip Beat. If I did, we'd be getting less full-page splashes and more story every month.

"Kyoko-chan? Kyoko-chan, what are you doing there?"

Kyoko opened her eyes to find herself face to face with a Daruma doll. Her landlady was leaning over her, a concerned look on her face. She straightened up, and stared at the table. Textbooks and loose paper were scattered everywhere, and she had turned her exercise notebook into a pillow.

"I'm… sorry," she muttered, looking up. "I didn't want to bother you with keeping the light on, so I came here."

"Goodness, were you up late? I hope you got some sleep."

She hadn't, and they both knew it. Kyoko rubbed her hand over her face and tried to gather her thoughts.

"We have an exam coming up," she said. "I really needed to study for it."

"But your school is so flexible. Didn't you say they set exam times specifically for each student?" Okami-san said, and started gathering Kyoko's textbooks into a pile. "You've been working so hard lately, with all those projects. Surely they can give you a little break."

"Oh… umm…" The truth was, she could, but in order to do so, she would have to present a document stating which production she was helping out with, what her role was, with names and dates and everything – and the only people who knew she was Setsuka Heel were the President, Tsuruga-san and Jelly Woods. "It's better I get it out of the way as soon as possible," she said, at length.

To distract herself as well as her landlady, Kyoko quickly threw an apron on and started wiping the floor. For a while, Okami-san watched her work, and Kyoko worried that she might press the matter. Then she shrugged and went into the kitchen.

The girl heaved a sigh heavy enough to knock someone over, and tried to focus on her task. Unfortunately, there was only so much thought you could put into handling a mop, and her mind strayed.

Deep down, Kyoko knew that this wasn't good – she was falling back into old habits, and cramming had never really worked for her. She was certain she would fail horribly on the test if she didn't get a break, but…

If she did, she would have nothing to think about. And being idle was not a good thing, not right now.

She thought about talking to Sho's mother, after such a long time. She'd been surprised – she thought that Setsuie-sama wouldn't want to look at her again, after she was so ungrateful to her and her husband. Like every time she was reminded of a stupid thing for Sho's sake, Kyoko felt humiliated, and a little bit angry. They had seen the dogged devotion with which she had followed Sho around, and yet they hadn't thought about discouraging it, not once. It made for an insanely long pause, after the first greetings were discharged.

"So you're not living with him anymore?" Setsuie-sama had said, when Kyoko told her she and Sho weren't on talking terms. "I see. I'm really sorry to hear that – I hope you can make do alone in Tokyo."

"I'm alright," she'd said. "I can't promise anything, but if I see Sho, I'll let him know you've been trying to get a hold of him."

"Thank you, Kyoko-chan."

"Setsuie-sama, has something happened?" It seemed so odd that Sho's mother would try to get in contact with him, after all this silence. Then again, Kyoko didn't know how often they communicated – they could have been talking on the phone constantly in the beginning, but she had spent so long outside of the apartment she had no way of knowing.

"Not really," Sho's mother said. "That is… my husband has been feeling poorly lately, and he's been wanting to speak to Shotarou for a whole now. But we didn't know how to approach him."

Kyoko frowned, feeling the old sentiments of resentment stirring inside of her once again. Honestly, she'd been jealous of Sho's parents. Maybe it was because they were the only couple she saw interacting on a regular basis, but they seemed like the perfect example of a family. She'd dreamed that one day she (and Sho, ugh!) would be just like them, and had been looking forward to calling them mother and father.

Of course, she thought as she polished the tables in Daruma-ya, just because the son had treated her badly didn't mean that the kindness his parents had shown her had not been real. After all, Sho's mother had taught her many skills, without which Kyoko doubted she would have gotten her current day job. Even if she didn't owe Sho nothing other than the most gruesome revenge, his parents raised her and she owned them a tremendous debt.

And then…

"Okami-san," Kyoko said. "I might have to leave town for a day or two. Would it be possible for me to take the Friday off?"

Her landlady peeked out of the kitchen, a frown on her face. "Leave town? Where to?"

She sighed. "Kyoto."

President Takarada must be going through another pirate stage, Ren thought as he observed the decorations in the waiting room. Pictures of Caribbean landscapes, models of ships, living parrots flying about… he would not have been surprised if Johnny Depp strolled in, in full Jack Sparrow gear.

"Do you know why he wants to see me so suddenly?" he asked Jelly Woods, who was keeping him company.

"No. But knowing my darling, it's probably some spur-of-the-moment thought that transformed into a helpful idea," Jelly said. "He doesn't tell me anything, though."

Ren nodded absent-mindedly. The question was redundant – he already had a good idea what the president might be calling him in for, and he wasn't looking forward to another dressing-down. He had promised not to hurt Kyoko, and yet there he was, being rude and unfeeling towards her. There was no doubt that Lori knew everything in excruciating detail – Ren just hoped that the scolding wouldn't be too bad.

The doors opened, and Takarada's latest (and slightly shell-shocked) associate staggered out. Ren waited for a beat, then followed Jelly inside.

The president was lounging, in the costume of a 1700s buckaneer, and flipping through some files. "Ah, Ren, Ten-san, right on time. Are you doing well?"

"Yes, sir," the younger man said.

"Excellent. Take a seat, I'll be done with these in a minute."

Ren looked at Jelly for help, but the make-up artist was already leaving the room. She gave him a thumbs-up and closed the door.

Silence fell. Ren was pretty sure that the paperwork could wait, and that the president was just letting him stew before going for the kill, but he said nothing. In his mind, he deserved it. Finally, Lori set the dreaded files aside and faced him.

"There's been a complication."

"I didn't mean it," Ren blurted out.

"Mean what?" the president asked, taken aback.

"I didn't mean to be rude to her," he said. "I really didn't. I'm sorry, and I'll do what it takes to make it up to her."

Takarada blinked. "I think you need to explain that again, Ren. I don't think I understand."

The younger man stared. Then he heaved a sigh. "This is about what happened yesterday with Mogami-san, isn't it? You heard that I said some mean things to her, didn't you?"

"Well, I do now," the president said. "Although it does put things in a clearer light."

Ren winced. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what things?"

President Takarada didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pressed the tips of his fingers together and surveyed his protégé. Ren was not inherently cruel, but he tended to focus too much on his own drama, and forget that others didn't have enchanted lives either. As such, there was only a certain way you could approach things with him.

"Mogami-san requested a leave of absence earlier this morning. She'll be unavailable until Friday, possibly longer, and said that a relative had fallen ill."

For a moment, Ren was completely immobile. Then he covered his face and slumped in his chair. "I've blown it."

"Not necessarily," Lorry said. "For all we know, she really could be visiting a sick relative. You're not the only one who's stingy about details of their past."

Ren rubbed his eyes. "Has she said anything else? Anything at all?"

"No. Just that she is very sorry, of course, and that she will make up for it as soon as possible. Sawara-san is re-arranging her schedule as we speak, and she says that her boss from Daruma-ya has given her a holiday already. I imagine she had some days accumulated." President Takarada lit a cigar. "The only thing left is her role as Setsu."

Ren wasn't listening. The events of the previous day were running in his head at full speed, and the disjoined images started connecting. Kyoko, furious, storming up to Fuwa and immediately launching into an angry triad. Her running after him. Her asking, hesitantly, if he would be okay without her for a few days.

"She tried to tell me," he said, in the voice of a man who's just been handed his death sentence. "She tried to tell me, and I acted like a complete and utter ass."

"Well, if you say so, I won't try to dispute it," Takarada said.

Ren groaned. This was horrible. Worse than a dressing-down. Worse than being threatened with an outing. Worse, even, than having to share a tiny apartment with the girl he loved… while she played a character whose idea of in-house attire was a mini-dress and boots. She'd just started feeling more like his equal, and then he went and put her down immediately.

"I made a huge mess of this," he said, looking at Takarada wretchedly.

"Undoubtedly."

"When does she leave?" Maybe he could meet her at the train station, or at Daruma-ya, and offer her a ride. Or, at the very least, tell her that he didn't mean any of the things he said, that she was very important and that please, if this newly found relative's illness wasn't too serious (read: he wasn't dying), could she postpone the trip.

The president read his intentions and ordered him to stay in the chair.

"She's going to do what she set out to do, Ren, and you're going to let her," he said. "I told you already, I never asked you to look after Mogami-san, and I won't have you breathing down her neck whenever she tries to put some distance between the two of you."

"I'm not… I just…" Ren gave up. "I don't want her to misunderstand."

"Then I suggest you be more careful what you say next time you two have a fight," the president said. "As it is, Mogami-san's schedule has been cleared for the next few days, and she'll be taking her break. The only question is whether you will continue as planned with the Black Jack shoot, or wait until she comes back."

Ren hesitated. His schedule was pretty busy, but it wasn't anything a little clever managing couldn't fix. He could count on Yashiro to handle the interviews and the shootings and whatnot, and he could become Cain Heel when Kyoko returned.

But what if she didn't return, a little treacherous voice in his head asked. What if she was so spooked by his crazy mood swings that she quit the Setsu stunt?

What was more, he was running out of time. It had been a little under a month since his father had come to visit. The Black Jack shooting was scheduled to end in three weeks. What if he hadn't been able to conquer "Kuon" by then? What if he still couldn't face his parents after he was done being Cain Heel? He needed Kyoko, but if he relied too heavily on her, the whole exercise would be useless.

"I'll go on," he said. "I've already decided."

And he could only hope that she returned to him.