A/N - I don't own Skip Beat!
Some days were better than others.
Though he used to think the term was only reserved for the set of a medical drama, Ren started wondering if maybe it didn't also have some bearing on what was going on in his life. Certainly, there were times when he would return from a shoot and feel like he could never film another scene again; and then there were those when he was unable to sleep, buzzing from the thrill of a job well done, of knowing what was to come in the morning.
Some calls were better than others, too.
When the President had delivered the news that his mothers' treatment had to be pushed forward, he'd also made it clear that he could no longer serve as a go-between for his parents and himself. "You've made the decision to go back to them," he'd said, just a few minutes before Kyoko had come into the office. "Don't make the mistake of thinking it would be easy. You need to prepare for that, too."
At the time, Ren had acquiesced, not because he shared the older man's concerns, but because he thought the path of least resistance was best considering all he still had left to take care of in Japan.
He had not thought how it would feel like to hear his father's voice every night… or for his mother to have a direct contact with him again.
"Kuon, you didn't pick up your phone this morning. Were you at a shoot?"
"Yes, Mum. Sorry about that."
"I know you're doing your best, darling, but please do try to get in touch as soon as possible."
"Yes, Mum."
On some days she would be so energetic and sparkling, it was easy to pretend it was as before, that the dire health warnings had been another game, that they had all the time in the world.
"What is this movie about? Tell me about the character? What are you doing to get into his skin?"
On other days, the realities of her illness would be all too stark - if not in her own voice, then in that of his father. "She's not doing too well, Kuon," he would say, quickly stepping out of the room. In the distance, he could hear someone shouting. "I'll call you later."
If he caught her when things were particularly bad, she would cry down the line. "Why are you not here, yet? Why are you still hiding from me?"
Or, worse still. "This is punishment. God is punishing me for every time I said I was sick…"
On days like these, he never called Kyoko afterward - not because he didn't need her, but because he was afraid of what he might say, or how he might behave.
He still hadn't told her everything about his parents.
If his co-stars found his sister's disappearance strange, they never let on, and Director Konoe didn't give them enough time to gossip on set. The time lost because of the drug accusations, combined with Ren's restricted timeline, meant that they were filming at breakneck pace, re-shooting key scenes with Murasame's stunt double and sometimes working through lunch. Ren had never been more tired, or more hungry in his life, but he forced himself to persevere. He had to.
The only thing he looked forward to were Kyoko's phone calls. Whenever he felt like he was losing track of Tsuruga Ren, whenever he thought the last few years had all been a dream, hearing her voice, telling him about her day, made things snap back into focus.
"Are you cooking?" she asked him one night, about three days into this new routine.
For a second, he was tempted to say no, just to have her come over and look after him. Surely she could borrow a jacket and a wig and visit him in the hotel? It wasn't so difficult, especially with her new levels of acting skills. But Kyoko was busy again with Box-R and her Love-Me work, and she, too, needed her rest.
"I'm having a lot of miso soup," he said. "I even got the hang of not mushing up the tofu."
She had sounded duly impressed, and he congratulated himself on having fooled her. That was, until the next evening, when he returned to find a week's worth of meals and groceries waiting for him in the fridge, courtesy of LME. Kyoko, it seemed, had called around and arranged for him to at least have food on hand.
He could have gotten annoyed with her. Then again, he hadn't exactly given her reasons to believe he would look after himself in her absence, had he?
That was a good day.
Kyoko, for her part, found that good days tended to mix in with the bad, not very cohesively, but all in all, they tallied up in an even way. Box R was going well, even with the odd snags in production. Her work as a Love-Me! employee was still difficult. There were no calls about her playing Midori, but she also hadn't seen Kijima either.
And she got to see Kanae and Chiori more. That was its own reward.
"So, did you… talk? With your 'friend'?" Kanae asked.
"Yes," Kyoko said.
"And you two… worked out an agreement?" They were taking a break from watching dramas and it was Chiori's turn to get drinks.
"We're together, Moko-san," she said. "Or… well. Not in front of the public but… in private."
Kanae frowned. "I can imagine why you've made that choice. I guess it's wise, given how media can latch onto a relationship. But is that… okay with you?"
Chiori returned and they resumed watching, which was a good thing, because Kyoko wasn't sure how she ought to answer. Did she think it was wise for her and Ren to keep their relationship private? Yes, absolutely. Was she happy about this state of affairs? It seemed like she should be, and yet…
It had been seven days since she'd last seen him. Seven days since he had held her outside of Daruma-ya, seven days since their almost-nightly phone call ritual had started. In that time, she had no way of checking up on him, and he remained, as ever, a perfect gentlemen whenever he spoke to her. She had no proof other than her own wildly convoluted thoughts… and yet she was certain that things were getting worse for him. The way he avoided certain topics, the shifts of tone whenever the conversation leaned towards his parents. She knew there was something going on but he wouldn't open up about it, and she had very few people to ask.
Maybe she was watching too many romantic dramas. Maybe it was all in her head.
But she was starting to listen more and more to her gut, and her gut told her something was wrong. She couldn't talk to anybody about it, had no way of confirming what she suspected. The only person who ever seemed to have the full picture was Lori and she couldn't just walk into the President's office and have a heart-to-heart. (Well… she doubted Lori would mind. But she wouldn't live down the embarrassment.)
Kanae might have been a good confidant, but she herself said she didn't have much relationship experience. Kyoko wasn't sure how much of this was appropriate to share.
In the end, she just kept to herself, finished her notes, and then prepared to leave.
"I'm okay, Moko-san," she said, when they were alone next. "I promise."
Kanae sniffed. "Well. So long as he's not forcing you to do anything… but judging by that blush, I guess that's not a problem."
Kyoko could only whimper.
Of course, Kanae's mind had immediately jumped to sex, and why wouldn't it? After all, what else was there to worry about? The president had had a similar thought, and so had taken measures to separate Ren and Kyoko, physically at least. Nothing worse than a sex scandal to muddy the waters.
She used to think the same way, too. But three days after that conversation with Kanae, she got a glimpse of something else. Something… wrong.
As usual, she got back to Daruma-ya after filming, donned her uniform, and helped serve until closing time. Then she breezed through cleaning, keeping an ear out for her phone to ring. He usually didn't deviate - he called her when both of them would be free, unless he was too tired. She was hoping he would.
"You're working hard, Kyoko-chan," Okami-san said, looking in as Kyoko put the last chair back into place. "You should rest more."
"I'm fine," she said. "Just fine."
"You never said how your family visit went. Did you have a good time?"
Yes, and found out I'm rich.
She couldn't bring herself to say that, either.
It occurred to her, then, that this might be a good thing to talk to Ren about. How strange it all felt, knowing what she knew now. How she could afford almost anything she wanted - makeup, clothes, time off work and school - and it felt strange. Not a relief - not even remotely. Just strange.
But time went on and on, and he wouldn't call. Finally, she decided to dial him herself.
"What?"
Kyoko was taken aback. It wasn't Cain Heel. Not Tsuruga Ren. Not Black Jack. But it was his voice. Just a different affliction. "Ren?"
"What do you want, Kyoko?" He was speaking in English. Perhaps that was what had thrown her. A distinct American accent - Californian, if her voice training was anything to go by. But those were minor things. He didn't just sound angry. He sounded murderous.
"I just wanted to hear from you," she said. "I was waiting."
"I was tired," he said.
"I'm sorry. Would you like to talk about it?" Without thinking, she switched to English as well.
"Nagging, Kyoko? Is this the sort of thing I am to expect from you now? Will you ask me whether I've eaten next?" His tone was mocking. "I'm fine. You sound fine. Can we cut to the chase here so that we can both go to bed?"
She was about to apologize for bothering him, but it was as if her hands had a mind of their own. She pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up.
Then, changing quickly into her street clothes, she went to get her bike.
It was a bad day.
A really bad day.
In fact, he could go as far as saying it was the worst of them all.
Kuon was feeling the pressure. And Kuon was not good under it.
His phone buzzed with a text. He squeezed his eyes, bracing himself, before reading it. Not Kyoko - that was good news. Not from his mother - that was even better.
She's not herself today. —Kuu
The sad part was, Ren mused, this was exactly how she was, or at least that was how she was when she didn't get her way. As a boy, when he wouldn't eat, she would pile and pile his plate with food, getting more agitated the less he ate. As a grown man, she piled her feelings on and on until… until…
You don't know, he thought. You don't know, because you ran away. The more food she piled the less you ate; the more feelings she had, the further you ran. You never let yourself figure out what follows after 'until'.
But he was about to.
Cringing, he sat up and took stock of himself. He'd drawn himself a bath earlier, but it had grown stone cold. Was it worth heating up? Or should he just crawl into bed and forget the day had ever happened.
Would he be able to?
Would Kyoko?
Ren glanced at his phone screen. She hadn't bothered saying goodbye, and she was probably stewing. He could call and apologize.
For the umpteenth time. You just never stop messing it up, do you?
Maybe this was a mistake. Yashiro and the President were both wrong. They didn't know how he was, how incapable of love he truly felt. Maybe it would be better to let Kyoko go, let her be angry and drift away, before things got well and truly bad.
It seemed like the logical thing to do. So why did it feel like his guts had been ripped open?
Ren sighed. This wasn't going anywhere. He'd be better off just sleeping forever.
No sooner had he decided it when there was a knock on the door. Had he ordered dinner? No, there was plenty of food in the fridge still - another delivery from his management. He hadn't asked for anything else and no wait staff came this late at night.
He didn't want to think. He didn't want to hope.
Yet, when he opened the door, there she was. Toned down and slapdash, yet still giving off a Setsu vibe. As if she had known this might happen and had made sure she had a disguise on hand if she wanted to sneak into the hotel.
Looking at him up and down, she frowned. "Well," she said at length. "Won't you let me in?"
I shouldn't, thought Ren.
But he was not in the business of denying her anything.