Ren's stomach was in knots when he and Kyoko met up in LME. They were both in character already, so jumping immediately into the conversation was out of the question. However, he noticed her carrying a bag full of paperwork – a welcome distraction, if worst came to worst.

She seemed calm – of course, it could be a feature of her character, but somehow, the way she was so blasé about everything only made him more jittery. What if she thought about what they were going to talk about, and decided it was better if they didn't have the conversation at all? Or worse, what if she had planned to let him down easy? What if she had a whole speech memorized and was now waiting for him to give her an opening?

That idea made him bargain with himself. At first, he wasn't going to bring it up until they were in the hotel. Then he decided to put it off until after their cooking lesson (ma po tofu this time). Then, of course, you couldn't bring these things up during dinner, even if the tension made it impossible for him to enjoy the food, and then there were dishes to wash.

As he dried the last of the pots (no accidents this time), his eyes fell on her bag, and he decided to take one last attempt at delaying the impossible.

"Did you get a lot of requests?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Sawara-san got a few calls. It's mostly bully roles again, though there's one invitation for an audition."

"An audition? For what?" Ren set the towel aside and turned to give her his full attention.

Kyoko leaned back in her chair. "An antihero role in a movie. The producer doesn't know who I am, apparently, but Director Konoe recommended me."

"Well, you see how you don't know who you might impress," Ren said. "Are you going?"

"I asked for the lines, so I figured I might as well try. If there's time, would you like to hear me do a reading?" she asked.

"Of course. Any time." He smiled, feeling anxious and proud at the same time. She was progressing in leaps and bounds, and was showing such confidence… it was amazing. "It's a shame I won't be able to audition for that one too. Shooting your first movie would be quite the experience."

"I haven't even got the role," she said, but she was smiling. Then her eyes darkened. "I don't know. Sawara-san said that the producer was ambivalent about my being there – I'll have to make a strong impression, even if it's just to show I haven't wasted their time. Then he told me that Kijima-san will be auditioning too, like that was supposed to be some kind of relief."

At the mention of Kijima's name, Ren's good mood immediately disappeared. Taking care to make his face as expressionless as ever, he said:

"Is that so? I see."

Kyoko noticed the shift in his demeanor immediately. Uncrossing her legs and standing up, she walked around the table so that they didn't have anything between them. To her younger self, such a dramatic mood swing would have been incomprehensible. Incomprehensible, at least, unless he was jealous.

Picking her words carefully, she said:

"I don't have to take the role, even if I get it. But the audition would be a good opportunity for me, to create an interpretation of a character in a short amount of time."

"I know," Ren said. He coughed and tried to work his way back to the state of mind he had before she said the dreaded actor's name. "I didn't say you shouldn't."

"You don't like Kijima-san," she said, hitting the target right in the bull's eye. "You think that because of what he did for me on the Dark Moon party… because I let him buy me a dress and a make-over, he has some kind of claim on me. Or that I owe him something."

"No, of course not."

"Ren," she said, "I know you do. You're not the only one."

In response to his look of confusion, she sighed and explained:

"Last week, before I went to Kyoto, Fuwa Sho accosted me by my school to give me grief for whoring myself out."

Ren, who, until that point, had been staring quietly, suddenly got up and started pacing the room.

"That… that…" He couldn't find a good enough word in Japanese, so he sprouted off in English. It wasn't until he was finished cursing a blue streak that he realize Kyoko was still there. She didn't look pissed, though. In fact, she looked like she was barely controlling her laughter. "He had no right to say these things to you," Ren said, at length.

"But you do?"

"I never…"

"You implied it. Or, at least, you implied that I was too clueless to go to anyone but you." When he failed to react, she came up to him and stood so that she was in his face.

Earlier in the day, she'd taken Kanae's advice and thought back. Not just about her relationship to Shotarou, but also to the Fuwas in general. And, to her surprise, she realized there was an essential thing she wanted to make clear, and she needed Ren's full attention.

His eyes were on her. So she decided to make it count.

"I've been lied to all my life, Ren-sempai," she said. "I don't like it. I don't appreciate hypocrisy either, but I'm not perfect and neither is anyone else. I realize you must have had your reasons for telling me the things you did, at the time. However—" she paused, to make sure he was listening "—now, things are different. I don't expect full disclosure, but please, please don't treat me like I'm four years old."

He swallowed.

"I understand. Forgive me – I acted incredibly badly."

Kyoko swallowed, and nodded. Even with her body weak with relief, she managed to sound calm and collected. "Thank you."

Ren sat down on his bed, slowly. Not knowing what was best, she made herself comfortable beside him. After a while, he said:

"I don't want you to give up your audition, or the role, even if Kijima gets in as well. I'd never ask something like that of you."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. "But we'll see. I might not like the role. Or the producers might not like me. There're plenty of things I can do – in fact, there's a drama with Kawagoe Michika that caught my eye as well."

Ren winced. "Really? Kawagoe Michika?"

"I think it would be interesting."

He dropped it. There were more important things to consider anyway. He thought back to the Dark Moon party, and his abysmal reaction. He never thought he'd get a chance to explain it to her, but now that he did, he found himself unable to pick the right words.

"I don't blame you for what happened," he said. "There's… really no blame to be had. I reacted horribly. I took my frustrations out on you, and I'm sorry. I brought this on myself, anyway."

Kyoko tried deciphering that mind-bender, before venturing a guess:

"You mean that you were angry at yourself back then?"

"Yes. It's exactly what I meant. I suppose I should have warned you that Kijima shows an interest in you, but I didn't know how to do it without coming off as a… a…"

"Patronizing jerk?"

"Yes."

She leaned back on her hands and stared at the ceiling, like it might hold the perfect answer to such a statement. "I guess I should have paid more attention to him, too," she said, finally. "But, to be honest, I was really scared, at the time."

"About what?" He caught the angry note in his voice, and tried to explain. "I mean, why didn't you come to me? I would have protected you from whatever…"

"It was you I was scared of," she said, and turned to look at him. He recoiled like she'd just tried to bite him. "At the time… it was right after the car accident. It was a horrible experience. And then, the night we had dinner at your apartment… I felt something that I promised myself I'd never feel again. And it scared me."

Ren was starting to get over his shock, and suddenly the pieces of the puzzle clicked together.

"So, when Kijima offered to dress you up…"

"I went along to make you angry," she confessed. "I thought, if you hated me, things would get better. Only that plan backfired royally on me."

Ren stared at her with a mixture of awe and horror. The enormity of what he was hearing started to hit him, and suddenly, the room seemed way too small.

"So that's how it is," he said. "We were both mishandling the situation."

She raised her eyes and met his gaze head on. "And what is the situation, exactly?"

There. The gauntlet was tossed. Now it was up to him whether he was going to take it or not. He wondered if he had a chance to backtrack, still. Surely, he could. He could make something up. Some convoluted story that would allow them to maintain a state of obliviousness.

But he wouldn't. Not anymore.

"I'm in love with you," he said. "And… you started to have feelings for me as well."

It was Kyoko's turn to look away. However, it wasn't until she'd given him a look that said he'd been one hundred percent correct.

"You say it so frankly," she said. "You really aren't a Japanese person."

Ren smiled. He found it very easy to do, now that he'd gotten everything off his shoulders. "I suppose I'm not. Is it wrong?"

"No. It's not." She sighed. "I… I mean it, when I told you I was scared. I still am. Right now, it's hard to tell what's right and what's wrong. Things I've been believing all my life turn out to be a hoax, and I… I don't know where I stand anymore."

"So what changed?" he asked. "What made you want to have this conversation with me?"

"I don't know—" she looked up "—maybe it was because you were willing to learn to cook, even when you're such a perfectionist."

The line, so deadpan, yet so much like her, caught him off guard. He burst out laughing. Kyoko, though, instead of being offended, just smiled as well. Once he'd calmed down, she went on.

"It's the truth. You're always there for me. You're always ready to offer me comfort, even when I don't deserve it. You're a great person, Ren, and… I can't be ashamed of my feelings. Scary as they are. Scary as you are, sometimes."

That sobered him up quite nicely. "You're right," he said. "I am scary. Perhaps it would be best, for both of us, that we didn't go any further than that."

"If we do that, wouldn't it be the Kijima thing all over again?" she asked. Then, before he could answer, she got up and stood in front of him. She made sure he was looking at her, before saying, "I'm scared. This… situation, as you call it, it can end up hurting us both, very badly. But I can't pretend this conversation never happened."

And, with startling clarity, he realized what she meant. If they decided to leave things at that, they would have to go their separate ways. No more meetings, or telephone calls, or going to each other for support, not for many months at least.

The idea made him sick to his stomach. And, from the looks of it, it was just as painful to her.

"Then… do you want us to try?" he asked, in disbelief. "If you don't, it's alright. Perhaps it would even be the smart thing to do…"

"Would you hurt me? Intentionally, I mean? Would you let me suffer if you knew you could prevent it?"

"Never. Never."

She took a deep breath. "Alright."

"Alright? That's all?"

"No." She reached back, removed her wig and the pins holding her hair back. Then, after some consideration, she shrugged her jacket off as well. Once she did that, she stepped closer. And closer.

Ren's hands reached out, tentatively, and grasped her hips to steady her, as she moved between his knees. His sitting position allowed her to stand over him, and to take control. Gently, he fingers brushed his bangs away, clearing his face.

He closed his eyes and let her explore. He felt it, and that was the most important thing – the coolness of her skin as she traced the lines of his nose and brows and mouth; the sweetness of her scent when she leaned in a bit closer; the way her hair tickled his cheeks, warning him of her next move. Without thinking, he raised his lips and met hers, soft and warm.

There was a moment when neither of them didn't move – a general "What have I done?" moment, if you will – before Ren reached towards the back of her head and pulled her in closer. Suddenly, both came to life, two clumsy, awkward people sharing a not-so-clumsy or awkward kiss. Hands intertwined and grasped, they broke away so that they could get more comfortable, and then went back at it again.

If the phone rang again, they didn't hear it.

Then, the fervor cooled, and Ren became aware of other things – the way her body molded against him, how his hand seemed to fit perfectly into the curve of her hip, how amazing it was when she laced her fingers behind his neck and used it as leverage. And he slowed down, to enjoy those and a thousand other things better, to relish that first kiss and make it as memorable to her as it was to him.

He realized he'd pulled her down and that she was almost completely lying underneath him, so he raised himself on his elbows, to take a moment, and to take his weight off her. She was looking up at him, cheeks red, hair in disarray, and eyes gleaming like pebbles in a river. It was, by far, the most bewitching thing he'd seen in his life.

"I should warn you," she said. "I'm not ready for sex."

And then he was laughing again, and he actually had to roll off her, lest he crush her accidentally. He felt her roll on her side and glaring at him, but he couldn't help himself – the laughter just kept coming and coming, and he was unable to stop it.

When it ran out, he raised himself and kissed her. It was long and sweet, but in comparison to the first try, it was a simple peck.

"You amaze me," he said, finally.

"Why? For pointing out an obvious fact?" She nudged him. "Even though I like your laugh, I was serious, you know. I'm not ready for sex."

"So, you're saying I should schedule the roses and the candle seduction for later then?" When he saw the look on her face, he shook his head. "I understand. I'm sorry for laughing. You're right – we should wait, at least until you're eighteen."

"And probably keep this private," she added. "From the public, I mean."

"Yes. Absolutely."

They hesitated. Then she kissed him again, and there was some more fumbling and laugher and awkwardness, until they found a way to get comfortable.

It was ridiculous. It was sublime.

Much, much later, Ren had dozed off. For both their sakes, they'd decided to try and sleep separately, for real this time, it seemed to be working out well. Kyoko watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, and when she convinced herself he was sleeping peacefully, she slipped out of bed and took the script for the Friday audition.

The lines were pretty standard, but that wasn't a big deal – she knew that a certain percent of scripts got recycled every now and again. She checked her character background – Midori, a young woman whose lover was killed by a police raid, angry with the system and carrying out vengeance in her own terms – and then looked back at the dialogue. It was supposed to be with a confrontation with the male hero, somewhere in the third act.

Midori: Stay away. Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot.

Irukawa: You don't mean that. I know you don't. You say you hate chaos, but you secretly hate it – that's why you didn't kill that woman, even though you could.

Midori: *laughter* You don't know the first thing about me. Now step away.

Irukawa: *raises hands* Why are you doing this? Why are you forcing yourself to do something you detest?

Midori and Irukawa glare at each other. She still keeps the gun trained on her victim, but there are signs she's listening.

Irukawa: Midori, listen to me – you don't have to do this. There are people I know… people who owe me favors, who can help you. If you let me…

Midori: What? You'll save me? Like the white knight in the fairy tale? Not gonna happen.

Irukawa: You're not a fool. You know I'm offering you a way out.

She hesitates for a long time, then cocks the gun.

Midori: My path has been chosen.

Kyoko muttered the lines under her nose, frowning. She wished she had time to read the whole script, get a better feel of the characters and their interactions. From the looks of this dialogue, it was very much like the writers were having some dreams about Midori and Irukawa, which were probably going to be abandoned for fanfic fuel. But she didn't like the idea of a romantic entanglement, especially if Kijima got the part.

She tried putting herself in Midori's shoes. She'd lost her lover. The system she'd been taught to trust had failed them both. Kyoko imagined herself as an optimistic twenty-something, full of dreams and aspirations, then had the floor fall out from under her feet.

The sensations – pain, disorientation, overwhelming rage – they were easy to find. She wondered how long Midori had been drifting in the numb state, where revenge was the only thing on her mind. Longer than her, she was willing to bet.

She didn't begrudge the screen writers for the cheesy dialogue. It was the kind of nasty situation you wanted to amend… the situation that just needed the right man to have the fairy tale roles restored.

But Midori wasn't just stumbling around the world, blindly looking for support – she knew how she could get her revenge, and she wasn't afraid to steal, lie, or kill, to do it. It was like she was resigned – resigned to her fate, resigned to forever being alone and unloved, with her only wish being to achieve that revenge and then rest in peace.

Suddenly, she knew how she wanted to do the reading.

Ren woke up at some point, stirred by the promise of a nightmare. She was still up, muttering lines under her nose and practicing her act in the mirror. He wondered if he ought to offer his help, but then decided she was doing a good job at it herself. Smiling, he drifted back to sleep.