If there was anything Tsuruga Ren knew from his wild years, it was that the worst things happened when you least expect them to. And since you least expect something bad to happen when things seem to be going fine, he grew to dread any lengthy moments of calm.
So when the first half of his day went perfectly fine, he went on his guard. It wasn't just that Kuon was unusually subdued – his old personality had calmed down considerably after that last incident – but the other actors were being unusually cooperative. Even Murasame, with whom Ren had to act in three out of the five scenes they shot, was quietly following the script and wasn't even trying to taunt him. Perhaps director Konoe had finally gotten everyone to calm down and do their job, but Ren knew better.
In the lunch break, he poked at his sandwich distractedly when he heard some commotion outside. Even if it wasn't in Cain Heel's character to care for these things, he got up and went into the corridor, just in time to see some stage hands lose control of a trolley carrying a large piece of equipment. It rolled down the corridor, smashing into things, and sending people scurrying for cover.
Ren didn't think – he raised his arms and stopped the runaway thing. It skidded to the side, then stilled.
"Heel-san, thank you so much," one of the stage hands said, hurrying to his side. "That was great on your part. We shouldn't have loaded the trolley so much, but—" Ren turned and walked away as fast as his feet could carry him.
Great. Breaking character, and not in a good way. He was glad that he gave the people a scathing look, at the very least, before he moved on.
He returned to his room and went back to his food. There was still half an hour before lunch break was over, and he wanted to make the most of it. He expected a call from Kyoko, and he was going to be very angry indeed if he missed it.
He was about to sit down, when he noticed that something was off. Not the feel of the room, but a small detail. Ren frowned, trying to work it out. He never head a head for details. But if he didn't figure it out, he knew he would be annoyed by this for the rest of the day.
Finally, he noticed – his bag, which he had throw under the table, now stuck out a little bit. Not a big deal, he could have kicked it.
He could have. But he didn't.
Slowly, as if dreading an attack, Ren went down on his knees and pulled the bag out. He unzipped it and opened it carefully. He was immediately glad he was wearing gloves, because right there, between his spare clothes, were several small packets filled with white powder.
He stared at them for a long time. Not because he didn't know what they were – he had grown up in Hollywood, after all, he knew exactly what those were – but because he was trying to get his temper under control. Kuon, whom he had considered subdued, reared his head and grinned. It was as if he could smell the blood that was about to be spilled.
Ren closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. So this was how it was going to be. They were done playing nice and breaking out the brass knuckles. Fine. He could play dirty. He could play really dirty. And Murasame would be very sorry. Very sorry indeed.
He had to stop. He had to relax. He had to be cool about this, or else…
Or else, he might lose everything.
He was getting to his feet, intending to go on a walk and clear his head (and if he happened to run into Murasame… well… he didn't know, but he was sure that he would think of something), when he heard commotion outside. Again. Knowing too well that it wasn't another runaway trolley, he went to the window instead. He wasn't all that surprised to see the police cars parking in front.
He didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing.
It turned out that anonymous snitches did exist, and the police in Japan took them very seriously. Not fifteen minutes after they had received a tip-off that there was someone with considerable amounts of drugs on them in this or that location, they had closed off the building and started a sweep.
Ren watched as the main detective explained this to Director Konoe, and wondered how long it would take for the officers to get to his room. He saw Murasame in the corner, and thought he saw a smirk on the other actor's face. His fists clenched. He had to stay calm, yet he could barely focus, so strong was his desire to act.
He had one chance, and one chance alone to get out of this mess in one piece, and that was running an enormous risk. But he was up against the wall.
"I can spare you the search," he said in perfect Japanese, as soon as the detective was done. Everyone turned to him. "Cocaine, right? I found some in my bag, just as you were pulling up in front of the building. It should still be there, unless its owner picked it up again."
Everyone stared at him as if he had suddenly done something incredibly out of character, like putting on a sparkly hat and done a tap-dancing routine. The detective was the first to break out of his stupor.
"You found it? And you expect us to believe that?"
"You are very welcome to look through my things. I'm willing to give you my full cooperation."
Director Konoe rushed up to him. "Heel-san, this is…"
"I will cooperate," Ren repeated. "You should know how these investigations can impact on the filming. Hopefully, we'll be able to finish this nonsense on time."
Nobody had any complaints about that. The detective, hardly believing his luck, motioned at him to lead the way.
Ren didn't know how he maintained his calm throughout the ordeal, but he did. The DIY squad had checked all the other rooms, but no other drugs had been found, so his bag was the only thing taken away. Once that was done, the detective sat him down and started firing questions away. When had he found the drugs? Why had he left the bag unguarded? Why was he to believe him?
Ren answered them all, trying to maintain his character while still giving full cooperation. He knew cops, and he knew that particular detective's type – overeager and angry, determined to succeed and piss someone important off. Any resistance would be giving them ammunition. The only reason why he kept his temper under check was because he convinced Kuon there was bigger fish to fry.
Though he did come close to losing it when the police asked for both a blood and urine sample, just in case they missed something. Ren complied, reminding himself throughout that he had nothing to hide.
Nevertheless, the hard part stared after the police packed up and left.
Ren came down in Studio D to find the whole cast waiting. He turned to director Konoe, who wouldn't meet his eye for some reason. They waited. He said nothing. The director was the first to break.
"Well? Heel-san?"
"I cooperated." He figured that without Kyoko, he would just have to make do.
"But they didn't press charges, right?"
"They took a test. They said they'll let me know once the results are out." He didn't add that they had told him not to leave the country either. He figured it was self-explanatory.
Director Konoe wrung his hands. "But, the filming…"
"It should go as planned."
"No, it shouldn't," Murasame said. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't feel comfortable anymore in this environment. We shouldn't be made to act alongside someone who is a criminal."
And that, Ren thought, from a guy who openly bragged about being in a youth gang. Pathetic.
The others didn't think so, though. All around Murasame, people were nodding and giving Ren the stink eye. The tension was thick in the air.
Finally, director Konoe asked, "Heel-san, how long did the detective say their investigation would take?"
"A week, or more."
"In that case, I must ask you to leave for a while," the older man said. "I appreciate your cooperation, but right now, everyone is tense. I can't make arrangements with the producers to postpone the filming on such short notice, but we will minimize the stress on the other actors. I hope you understand."
He didn't wait for Ren to answer, turning instead to the other actors. Well, all the better. At least he didn't sack him.
The others started to disperse, carefully skirting around Ren. Murasame was the obvious exception – he walked straight past him. Kuon didn't let the opportunity go.
"Was this what you wanted?" he asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Murasame sneered. "Perhaps you should have learned better Japanese."
"You do realize they didn't press charges, right?"
"Doesn't matter. You're toast. You should have just stayed in England and spared us the trouble, freak."
Ren's fists started to shake. He couldn't control them anymore. Kuon was taking over.
"Then you pray that they do press charges," he told Murasame. "Pray that they keep me in custody, and don't let me back out on the streets."
Murasame turned on him, a fierce look in his eyes. Ren replied with a cold stare. The room went quiet, waiting for the inevitable to happen.
And then Ren's phone rang. There were only two people who could do so at that moment, and it was unlikely that the President had heard about this fiasco so soon.
"Setsu," he said. Murasame gave him a strange look, and didn't back off.
"Nii-san." Her voice had a strange tremor to it, which distracted him enough to turn away from that punk who begged to have his ass handed to him. "How are you?"
"There's been some trouble at work. I'll be taking a few days off."
"What? What kind of trouble? Are you alright?" Her panic was palpable.
"It's fine. I'm in no hurry," he said.
"You're not fine. I'm coming back immediately."
"Don't be ridiculous, Setsu." He knew better than to have her anywhere near him when he was in such an agitated state. If he got angry… if he snapped… he didn't want to think about what might happen then. "You have other engagements. You're coming home tomorrow."
"I don't care! I'm on my way to the train station anyway. This place sucks." Her voice broke on the last word, and he heard some fumbling on the other side of the line. It surprised him so much he conceded.
"Fine," he said. "Text me when your arrival time. I'll be waiting for you."
Kyoko mumbled something in agreement, and hung up. He stared at his phone thrown off by this abrupt change of plans. Then he noticed the time – it was a full hour past their scheduled call time. Had the police not arrived, she would have called in the middle of filming.
What on Earth had happened?
A/N It is scientifically proven that a lot of review = faster updates. Well, maybe not. But it would have been totally awesome if it were true.