Kuon was running. It was dark, he couldn't tell which street he was on, but the pavement beneath his feet was like quicksand. It made movement extremely difficult, like he was wading through molasses. Behind him, someone yelled at him to stop.

Idiots. Like that ever worked.

Tina was there, screaming "Murderer, Murderer". Then other voices joined her – Murasame's taunts, mixed with the other guy's, Rick's last words to him, his parents, begging him to come home. They filled his head, threatening to shatter it.

It was getting harder to breathe. His legs were tired. He was too slow to take a decision – left or right – and he could hear his pursuers closing in on him. There was a ledge there somewhere, all of a sudden – there had always been a ledge. He stood on it, looking down. Wasn't it better to just jump?

He shifted his weight forward. And just as he was going into a freefall, a scream cut through all the other voices. Loud and clear as a bell, it was one he could recognize anywhere. But it was too late.

Ren woke up.

For a moment, he lay in bed, trying to remember his surroundings. He was still breathing heavily. He turned around and looked at Kyoko's bed. It still gave him a jolt to see it empty.

I wish she were here, he thought for the umpteenth time. I wish the President would let me go take her back.

That was only partly true. He wanted to see her, but even in his worst state, he knew that going as far as tracking her when she was out of town was invasive. He might as well break out the body glitter and make a habit of watching her sleep.

Ren glanced at the phone. It was almost dawn. Knowing there was no way for him to go back to sleep, he rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Maybe he would even try cooking breakfast today – he was almost certain that if he started a fire, the hotel would evacuate the other guests in time.

He stopped when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His face was pale, his eyes – bloodshot, and he was shaking like a leaf. Was this what Kyoko saw that one time they slept in the same bed? No wonder she was scared – he looked like a junkie coming down from a high.

With a groan, Ren turned his back on his reflection and went to the kitchen instead. Kyoko had hung a calendar there, a grotesque thing with kittens and sparkles and bows, girly to the max and suiting her to the T. He picked up a marker and crossed out the current date – the third in a line of X's that spanned the week. He only had to hold the front for two more days until she returned. Just two more days. He could do that much, couldn't he

Nodding to himself, he started the coffee maker and picked up a cup. The handle came off in his hand.

Unbeknownst to him, Ren wasn't the only one awake at this hour. Across town, a man in a hoodie sat in the park, twirling an cigarette in his fingers. Another one, wearing a trench coat with a gang's symbol on the back, came down the alley, and, after taking a long look around, joined the first one on the bench.

"Didn't think you'd show up," Hoodie said.

"Such little faith, and after all we've been through? You disappoint me."

"I know it's very short notice. Not everyone would be able to do me a favor so soon."

"Don't be ridiculous. There are tons of people willing to do you a favor. The only question is – what will you do to pay me back?"

"I have considerable resources at my disposal," Hoodie said. "Name your price – it will be done."

"All this, without even asking for an estimate? You must be in a real hurry."

"No. It's just that this is an important favor."

"Alright," Trench Coat said. "What is it that you want to do? Is there someone you want us to take out for you? Some clerk or cop that made things difficult for you?"

"It's easier than that. He's a foreigner, and a freak to boot. His name is Cain Heel – he lives in an apartment in - hotel."

"Foreigner, you say?" Trench Coat said, a suspicion creeping into his voice. "And a freak? How does he look like?"

"Taller than me. Long black hair. Dresses like a Grim Reaper. You can't miss him."

Trench Coat was silent. The other guy turned to look at him, and saw his companion start to sweat. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Tell me, this Cain Heel… is he a gifted fighter, per any chance?"

"Yes. Though he shouldn't be a match for you guys."

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Trench Coat yelled, startling some of the birds from the tree. "Sorry, Murasame, but I have to decline. I know who this guy is. Kazu's band had a run-in with him by this posh store uptown – they barely made it with their lives."

If Murasame was surprised, he didn't let it show on his face. He had fought with Heel, after all. He knew what he was capable of.

"Kazu and his friends are punks. They were too scared to break out on their own until I retired. I've fought this guy. You guys will handle it."

"I'm sorry, Murasame-kun, but I have to decline. Going against this guy is suicide."

The actor let out a sharp breath. "Fine. Then set me up with some stuff. I'll do all the dirty work."

"Do you think the cops will go against him?"

"They'll have no choice."

Trench Coat seemed to hesitate. At length, he said, "If this backfires, I will deny everything."

"I know that," Murasame said. "I'm not an idiot."

"Fine. How fast do you want the stuff?"

"As fast as possible. Today would be great."

Trench Coat nodded, then took off without any further comment. Murasame waited until he was out of sight, and then threw his hood off. He stared around with a grim look on his face. He was running a tremendous risk, doing this by himself. There were thousands of things that could go wrong, with him being fired riding on top of the list.

But then he remembered being held above ground, his air being cut off, feeling his life running through his fingers. He had to put an end to this. No risk was too high.

Kyoko was up early too. After making sure that Sho's father was alright for the day, she donned a staff uniform and went to help in the kitchens. There, she was paired off with a girl name Mai and the two were put on cleaning duty. It was hard, but fulfilling, and Mai had a lot of stories to tell, once the two warmed up to each other.

"You really went motorcycle racing?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mai said, rolling her eyes. "I also hung out with bangs and got a yakuza-style tattoo. Nah, kidding, I didn't do any of that. But I did skip school a few times too many, so my parents sent me here, so that I got my priorities straight. Air quotes implied."

Kyoko laughed, and thought how Mai and Chiori would hit it off right away. They had the same dry sense of humor, the same sardonic look on life.

"How does that work?" Kyoko asked. "Getting your priorities straight, I mean. How does working in a ryoken do that?"

Mai shrugged, but the flippancy of the gesture seemed forced. Her eyes clouded. "They think that I'll learn the importance of hard work, and stop acting so disrespectfully towards them. As if sneaking out for a smoke is disrespectful."

Kyoko's grudges perked up. Even if Ren wasn't around to feed them with his murderous aura, Mai's was a good enough substitute. She wondered if she ought to encourage the younger girl to talk about it, then decided it never hurt anyone to share their problems.

"You seem very angry," she chanced.

"Wouldn't you be angry? I mean, they just took my teachers' word for granted, without even listening to what I had to say!" People turned around when she raised her voice. She and Kyoko grinned sheepishly, and pretended to be engrossed in their work. Finally, Mai said, "They just needed to get rid of me for a while. That's why they sent me here."

Kyoko nodded, although deep down, she worried. Mai's story was oddly similar to her own – disengaged parents abandoning their child – but she had never felt antagonistic towards the Fuwas for taking her in. On the contrary, she'd been glad there was a family to love her enough to keep her, even if her grades were mediocre and her performance – lacking.

Mai, on the other hand, was angry at everyone, and it showed – her work was sloppy, her attitude towards the rest of the staff was indifferent, even insolent. Kyoko wanted to correct her, point out that taking real joy from work was reward enough, but then she reminded herself that this wasn't her job. Surely, Setsuie-sama would install proper manners in her.

But then Mai said something completely unexpected.

"I think that everyone hopes to be a little like you, though."

"How so?"

"Well, you started off here, right? And now you're a TV star. It's a pretty sweet thing to aspire to," Mai said.

It took Kyoko a minute to process that. Then she felt confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Mai-san."

"Oh, come on! Surely you don't think everyone is as dense as the Fuwas. People remembered you, and they recognized you in Dark Moon. Some of them thought that it was the skills you learned here that got you these roles."

Kyoko almost laughed, so ridiculous was the statement. But Mai was dead serious.

"Even my parents think that, if I grow up to be an actress, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Mai-san, really, this is flattering, but it isn't my experiences here that made me who I am today."

"Really? And what is?"

Hard work. Sho's betrayal. Her own background and history. Incredible luck. Supportive friends. When Kyoko really thought about it, she couldn't imagine her career without Moko-san and Chiori-san, the president, Otou-san, or Sawara-san.

Or Tsuruga-san. Especially Tsuruga-san.

It was true that some of the skills she had learned at the ryoken had helped her out. For example, she would not have survived in Tokyo if not for the two jobs she worked to keep both herself and Sho sheltered and fed. She would not have impressed those first directors with her professionalism, or her determination, without those founding years.

But everything was relative, and she had come a long way to get where she was. She wanted to tell Mai how fleeting luck was, and how the barest of coincidences could trip her or boost her to the top.

Instead, she changed topics.

"Who's everyone?"

"Oh, the rest of the kids the Fuwas took in," Mai said. "Rina-chan, Yoshiko-chan and Nina-san all came with me. Our parents are either overseas, or working too hard, or "disappointed" in us—" she smirked sardonically "—so they're paying Setsuie-san and her husband to look after us, and hopefully teach us something useful."

Kyoko's hands stilled. "Oh," she said, her voice as fake as cotton candy. "Is that so?"

Mai stared at her, as if to say, "Didn't you know?"

Feeling the room grow too hot all of a sudden, Kyoko put her broom down and said, smiling. "I'm sorry, I'm due to check on Fuwa-san. Will you do okay on your own?"

Mai nodded, oblivious to the tension in the air. Kyoko bowed to the rest of the kitchen staff and went out, feeling her lungs contracting. She reached into her pocket and retrieved the phone number.

"M" company. "M" like Mogami. The payments that had stopped around the same time she had gone to Tokyo. It seemed like too much of a coincidence. Although she tried to be reasonable about it, there was no other explanation. What company would just give money away without guarantee? The answer was that it wasn't a company at all, but a person.

And children were expensive, after all. The Fuwas had needed an allowance of sorts.

Though that all seemed logical to her, simple even, her head was spinning with the enormity of the discovery. Of course, the Fuwas had a contact with her mother. Of course, they must have kept her up to date with her life. Of course. It all made sense.

Kyoko knelt on the porch and laughed quietly. She'd thought she was so clever, back then. She'd thought that her mother knew nothing about her going to Tokyo. Of course she'd known. She just never cared.

She dug through her pocket and retrieved her phone. She was about to phone Tsuruga-san, when she realized he must be filming already. Then she shook her head – really, was she ten or something? She didn't have to call her sempai to bother him with the minute details of her life.

Kyoko tried to get her thoughts in order. So she had her mother's phone number. What now? It was obvious, at this point, that the woman didn't care for her. Why would she want to talk to her? By any means, Kyoko owed her no debt.

And yet… yet…

Her fingers were dialing the number without her consent. Before she lost her courage, she hit "Dial" and held the phone up. Someone picked up on the second ring. A man.

"Kato and associates, how can I help you?"

That threw her off. The man on the other end of the line repeated his question. She snapped out of it.

"Hello, I'm calling to make an enquiry, in relation to a payment made to the Fuwa Ryoken."

"Please hold. What is the date of the transaction?"

With a voice she barely recognized as her own, Kyoko rattled off the date and account numbers. She heard the other line go silent. When the man answered, his tone was very different.

"That transaction was terminated in agreement to the contract signed by both parties. What is your enquiry?"

"I'm the accountant for the ryoken," Kyoko lied. "I'm trying to trace the transactions and determine their origin. Why is your company listed in the account books under "M"?"

"You should have known that already," the man said.

"Well, I don't." Kyoko decided to change gears. "Is there anyone in your company that goes under the name of Mogami, per any chance?"

The line went completely dead. She looked at the display to make sure they hadn't hung up on her, but everything was okay. When the man replied, his voice shook.

"Who is this? Who am I talking to?"

Panicking, Kyoko did the first thing on her mind – screamed "April's Fool" and hung up. Then she turned her phone off completely. Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest, it beat so fast.

Then she heard Fuwa-san calling her, and she hurried to his aid. Stupid, she thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How presumptuous, to think the world revolved around her, and when there was so much to do! There she went, messing everything up.

Nervously, she shoved her phone into her pocket, and made up her mind not to think about this incident anymore. Maybe, she thought, if she didn't think of it anymore, she would get over the shame of it, eventually.

And, as she hurried to Fuwa-san's aid, she made a wish that her sempai's day went better than hers.

A/N Well, that certainly took me less than the last chappie, I should say. )

Also, it's Pimp-Other-People's-Fics o'clock, y'all! If you want a good rec, I suggest Dear Sempai by leavesfallingup. It's an awesome fic, and a great read for the days when I'm trying to bang up the next chapter of this story. If you haven't read it, do so, and leave a review! (and if you leave one for this fic too, I won't mind. Just sayin')