She was floating on a cloud.

Julie smiled. She never thought they would be this comfortable - all that vapor, and it was always so cold up high - but these were the Goldilocks of clouds. Just right. If it wasn't for all that bright light - she liked to dim them all down, what with her condition - she could have thought she was at a spa.

But a nagging thought persisted. Why so quiet?

Of course, she liked the quiet - her condition again - but something told her there ought to have been voices around her. Specifically, two voices - her favourite people in the world, who would surely be sitting with her now.

Why? Why?

Her nose twitched, like she was stifling a sneeze. Something was off. Where are my slippers? And where is the edge of this bed?

She imagined rolling off into a thick carpet, something as soft and as nice as the clouds. In reality, her body barely moved. Something was tethering it in place, right under the covers.

Mmmph…

She tried again, and then once more, and finally, in the distance, she heard, "She's still very weak. But we're bringing her out slowly."

I can go wherever I want, Julie thought, defiantly. And then, out of where?

It took several hours - or was it minutes? As far as she was concerned time had lost meaning - but eventually the clouds dissipated and she came more fully into possession of her body. Her body, which, once Earthbound, felt a lot worse than it had been in the skies.

She cringed against the bright light, and tried to burrow under the covers, but her limps were heavy and the IV line pulled at her. Everything was harsh - the sun, the pillow under her head, the breeze whenever someone opened or closed a door. And her own skin… she could smell herself, and it wasn't pleasant.

Somebody pulled a curtain, and she mewled as the sound made her head hurt. But then it was dark again, and the darkness was a relief.

"Is she supposed to be this sensitive?" her husband asked. She would know his voice everywhere.

"It's not uncommon. She'll be in and out of it for a while - we'll come and check on her every hour."

A door opened, and she cringed momentarily but it was over soon. And then the sound of someone - two someones - sitting down, on either side of her.

Two…

Julie forced her eyes to open, to take in the men who were keeping her company. Carbon copies, the two of them - both handsome, only about 25 years apart in age. She sighed, happily. "My boys…"

The younger one… she kept forgetting his name, but she knew who he was - a star, her star - turned so quickly he nearly fell off his chair. "Mom?" he spoke with an accent. Why was he speaking with an accent? "Mom, can you hear us?"

"Loud and clear, my darling." She didn't remember calling him that, but it felt right. "Come closer…. Let me look at you."

"Julie," his father said, "rest up. You'll have time to catch up later."

"I want to see him now. I may not—"

"The doctors said everything went well," he said. "You're okay."

"Why must you contradict me?" she said, feeling put upon. She wanted to look at her son.

But her son had turned away, his face set. It was so familiar, she wanted to laugh. He was still so stubborn.

She could be stubborn, too. They expected her to nod off - but she'd nodded off plenty, and she wanted to talk to her son while he was still here. She didn't know why - but she was anxious he would leave. And he didn't help things by checking his phone all the time - really, weren't they supposed to take these things away when they were at a hospital?

Julie waited and waited. Eventually, her husband - Kuu, she recalled, his name is Kuu - got up to go to the bathroom. It was just her son and her.

"How are you?" she asked as soon as the door closed.

"Fine," he said. And that was that.

"Have you been to… to the Chicken Shack yet? You must miss it." She was starting to pick up her energy levels, and she was glad. "I bet you made a beeline… as soon as you were off the plane."

"No," he said. "No, I… came straight here."

"Well… go now. Bring me a shake, too." Not that she would drink it. She felt like she wouldn't eat or drink another thing again. But it was the thought that counts.

He just shook his head. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

He pursed his lips, did not respond. Julie didn't like that. "Kuon," she said, trying to sound more stern. "Why not? You're back now. You can do… as you please."

Kuon's eyes flashed with a sudden temper - nothing new, she recalled, he used to be like that all the time as a teenager - but there was something about the set of his jaw that worried her. Like he wanted to say something but was holding it back for dear life.

"Come on," she said. "You can tell me anything."

"Clearly not," he said.

But before she could wheedle him for more information, his father was back, and Kuon got to his feet. "I'm going to get a coffee," he said, in Japanese. "Want anything?"

"No, I've had all I need." Kuu looked between the two of them, and she knew he'd been eavesdropping. But why did he seem so annoyed with her? All she'd done was try and be nice.

And then Kuon was out the door, and she couldn't help the nagging sense that she'd forgotten something important.

Ren was pacing. Kuon would have been too cool to be seen doing that, but Japan's top actor would have given himself some leeway, and he definitely felt more like Ren than Kuon today. Now that his mother was awake… somehow the fear held him in a teenager's mindspace - sullen and angry. Now that it was gone, he was… maybe calm was an overstatement, but definitely more like his adult self.

Still… the corridors seemed too small, too claustrophobic. There was plenty of space on the grounds, but he was afraid of running into the paparazzi before he was ready. He was better at handling the press than he used to be, but he had the nagging feeling he might deck somebody.

What he wanted - what he really, really wanted - was to hear Kyoko's voice. If only for a bit… he knew it would soothe him.

But - and it was a big but - he didn't want to be met with the busy tone again, or worse - with Kato. Any more confrontations with the man and Ren didn't know what he would do.

(Okay, he did know. He would cry like a child, freaking his father out even more than he already was.)

He never thought his lack of romantic experience would be such a problem. Obviously, within his work, it had been a setback - one he thought he'd worked around - but after a lifetime of viewing women as annoyances, or a means for physical release, having one in his life that he cared about, whose presence was not only soothing, but essential… her rejection hurt more than he thought it should.

And the thing was, even if she wasn't mad at him - and she had every right to be - he knew she'd have other things to worry about. Her own life to sort.

So why was he so upset she couldn't jump straight in to support him?

He rooted through his pockets, trying to find something to soothe himself - maybe a cigarette, leftover from Cain? - but instead he found his work phone.

The answer presented itself immediately.

His manager picked up on the third ring. "Yashiro speaking."

"Yashiro-san," Ren said, smiling. "It's Tsuruga. How are you?"

Long pause. Then, as if addressing somebody else, "Please excuse me, I need to take this." A woman murmured something indistinguishable, and then Yashiro moved out of the room. "Ren-san," he said, sounding stiff and formal. "How can I help you?"

"Look, I know you can't know that immediately, but can you do me a favour and check wit Sawara-san when Kyoko is free next? I want to talk to her but I can never get a hold—"

"Mogami-san is not on any set right now, she's having a personal meeting," he answered.

There was a long pause as Ren struggled to get his voice to work.

"You… know that?" he asked.

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

There was a long sigh. Then Yashiro said, "Given Mogami-san's increasing popularity the director saw fit to assign her a manager. And since there is now a gap in my schedule…"

The way he said it, it sounded like things had just happened. Ren wondered how many months in advance Lori had had this brewing, ready to spring a contract on Kyoko and Yashiro as soon as he was out of the picture. They're already moving on, his old self whispered in his ear. They knew you would never come back and they acted accordingly.

He forced himself to behave as an adult. He had told Yashiro himself that he didn't know how long his stay in the States would be and when he would be able to return. He had also left Kyoko as she was receiving her first movie role, and then this whole bomb with Kuon being Cain Heel had dropped. She hadn't been found out as Setsuka just yet, but when she was (and he had to assume it was a when, not an if) she would need all the people in her corner that she could get.

It made him feel silly. He should have thought ahead of time. He should have been the one to ensure she had those people in her corner.

"It's good that you are looking after her, Yashiro-san," Ren said. "She is in very good hands."

"I would say that Mogami-san looks after herself well enough."

There was a long, awkward silence.

"I will come back, Yashiro-san," Ren said, at last. "I will."

"I know. For what it's worth…" his manager paused, picking his words carefully. "I look forward to the next incarnation of Tsuruga Ren."

It wasn't until he hung up that Ren realized - Yashiro never told him who Kyoko was having a meeting with.

Her father's name was Soga Ichiro, and he was a salary man at a real estate company. Kato-san had offered to do a full background check on him, but Kyoko had refused. Partly because she didn't want to intrude on the man's life any more than she had to, partly because she didn't want a lot of information to feed her overactive imagination. She had already gone through half a dozen scenarios in which he and her mother might have met, how their affair developed (and ended), and what his favourite foods might be.

The reality of the man - as realities tended to be - was underwhelming. She drank every detail, as he stood to greet her - his wide-set face, his neat haircut, his jutting jaw - and she could see no family resemblance, not even a hint of it. She wondered if her mother had gotten something wrong.

Then he bowed: "I'm Soga. Nice to finally meet you, Mogami-san."

She mirrored his greeting and they spent an awkward couple of minutes trying to get comfortable in Kato-san's boardroom. She got up to fetch tea and then remembered that they had some brought up already; he asked if she was comfortable, and then remembered he was the guest as much as she was. All the while, they kept seizing each other up - for all the looking Kyoko did, looking for clues, he did too.

Eventually, staring was all they did.

"You look a lot like her," Ichiro said at length.

Kyoko wasn't sure how to respond. "I changed my hair a lot… before I started this job."

"Oh." He paused, trying to imagine the change. "Yes, I suppose there are some requirements you have to meet, to do what you do."

So he had asked around for her. Not that it took a lot - a quick trip down a search engine and he would have seen everything there was to know about her - from her short bibliography to her LME bio to the headlines she'd been making recently as one of the possible actresses to play Setsu.

He was wrong about the hair change, though. "It was my choice, actually," she said. "I wanted to… turn a fresh leaf."

"Hm." Ichiro sipped his tea, giving no indication whether he believed her or not.

Kyoko wracked her head for ideas. How do people made conversation with their long-lost dads? Outside of dramas?

"You're seventeen?" he asked.

"Eighteen in December."

"My eldest will be seventeen soon," he said, setting his cup down. "I don't suppose that says a lot of good things about me as a parent."

Maid face, maid face, maid face, she thought. Out loud, "I don't really see that."

"No? You don't think that having two daughters with two different women makes me something of a louse?" He gave her a dark look. Ah, there's that family resemblance. She always thought she got her mother's death glare. Apparently not.

FACE! "Well, you didn't know about me, did you?" she said, forcing herself to act casual. "I didn't even know about you until a few weeks ago."

"Hm."

Still no answer. She tried a different route. "How many daughters do you have?"

"Just two. Hana and Fumiko," He dug around his wallet and retrieved a photo. It was from a high school entrance ceremony. He and a woman stood next to two girls, both in uniform, both looking a little bit shell-shocked. Kyoko felt her stomach do a flip-flop. The elder girl was big-boned and cheerful looking, no doubt glad to be a senior. The younger, petite and stringy-haired, glared at the camera with what could only be described as a Mio-like intensity.

"They're beautiful," she said, returning the photo.

"Fumiko keeps being told she looks like that character in Dark Moon." His face, which had been beaming with pride a second ago, seemed to fall. "I suppose we know now why."

She couldn't stand this anymore. Steeling herself, she asked her father if she could be blunt. He nodded. "Soga-san, I can't imagine what it feels like to you right now," she said. "I wasn't even thinking I would be making contact with you. My mother… in her will, she advised me not to."

"So why did you?" he asked, and his stare was neither welcoming nor curious. It was the sort of stare you gave to someone you wanted to get rid of, and fast. Kyoko repeated "maid face" a few times before responding.

"There are some things my mother did not plan for," she said. "My guardians proved to be less trustworthy than she thought they would be, and my work—"

"Let me stop you right there," he held up his hand, "when I first got the call about this meeting, I was skeptical. I thought, this must certainly be a joke, or else a terrible scheme. This man, this Kato… he certainly did not inspire any confidence. Then I saw the papers, saw you. Some things you can fake, but not this… not to this degree. I told Kato, I wasn't sure about this. He said it was just a formality, that I would just have to sign off on a passport. He said nothing about sob stories."

"It's not—"

"I didn't believe him—" he went on, talking right over her "—I knew there would be some sort of catch. I didn't want to put my name on any papers until I spoke to you."

"Kato-san said you wanted to meet," Kyoko managed, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking.

"I did. I wanted to see you for myself. I didn't expect… I never thought… talking to you would be so difficult."

And then, immediately contradicting himself, he went on to tell her all about the way he and her mother had met - how he was young, how he was dazzled by Saena's charms and intelligence, how he thought it was the way love was meant to be. How Saena had become more withdrawn all of a sudden, how she had started to snub him. How he'd met his now-wife and realized she was who he wanted to share his life with. How Saena had just laughed in his face when he'd told her, and bid him good luck before returning to her spreadsheets and bottom line.

"Good riddance." He said this a lot. "Good riddance."

Kyoko tried to chime in a few times, but every time, he just powered through, ignoring her. And, little by little, it occurred to her - Soga Ichiro didn't want to meet her, not really. He didn't particularly care about the sort of person she was or her life. All he wanted was to vent, and he did - eighteen years worth of vitriol, caused by her mother, but maybe a little by him, finally had a target.

She wanted to be angry. The grudges poked their heads out, sniffed the air… then went back to sleep. The fairies whispered nice things for a while, and eventually fell silent too. It felt like a scene - a scene of her own life. Except she wasn't really a participant.

Just a sounding board.

Once the thought sank in, she found it hard to re-engage with the situation. She just let the words flow past her ears while her face settled into a neutral expression.

Her father and mother hadn't had some sort of epic love story. They had barely had a fling. And then, just as life had pushed them together, it had pulled them apart - no malice or drama, just circumstance. Her mother had been too proud to tell him she was pregnant. He - presumably - hadn't cared enough to check on her, or wonder. He'd gone on and had a family with someone who suited him better.

It was all… very prosaic. Except for the part where he was getting a little red in the face accusing her of trying to manipulate him and throwing sob stories in an attempt to win him over. And she hadn't even asked anything of him yet.

"And now I see all these things on the news - about you being one who dresses up in… in those shameless clothes, and being in service to some spoiled American! If you think I will ever tell my family… if I will ever allow my daughters to associate… you have another thing coming!"

That got her attention.

"What are you—"

"Don't you dare deny it! I saw it on the news on the way here. The footage from the hotel alone… you should be ashamed of yourself."

Kyoko's heart started beating triple-fast. Almost as if he'd been listening in on the door, Kato-san came into the room, carrying a fresh tray of tea, and a folder.

"Just thought I would top you up," he said, cool as a cucumber. Soga-san mustered up some strength and marshaled his features, but he kept glaring daggers at Kyoko. "I don't want to press you two, I just wanted to bring the emanciaption documents as well as the passport form before I nip off to lunch."

"Emancipation?" Soga-san said.

Kato opened the folder and showed it to Kyoko. There was a sticky note on top of the documents: There's been a leak. Let's get this done with now.

She nodded, and Kato-san bowed. "Indeed," he said, tearing off the note and presenting the folder to her father. "Mogami-san must have explained this to you already, but she is at a point in her career where she has to make quick decisions about her engagements, money, and travel. Given how quickly her birthday is approaching, and the absence of reliable guardians, emancipation is only natural."

Soga just kept staring. "Freedom, huh?" he said, eventually. "It looked to me like she was enjoying that anyway."

Kato-san kept his face even as he said, "In addition to the aforementioned documents, you will find an NDA there. It's binding both parties to silence… meaning that neither you nor Mogami-san plans to acknowledge your connection in the next five years. It was my impression from our earlier conversation that this was your… preference."

Kyoko watched the wheels turn, and tried to still the itch in her hands. She wanted to grab her phone and see what he was talking about, but she had to stay cool. She had to appear unaffected.

Because what Kato-san was offering her father was a very good deal. Her legal freedom, in exchange for her silence. No need for him to tell any of his family about a daughter he'd sired before any of them were in the picture. No need to acknowledge an association with an actress. It was all very neat and tidy.

While he - Soga - had spent five minutes losing it, screaming at her face. Yes, he was visibly embarrassed.

Good, she thought. Let him be.

Eventually, he picked up a pen and signed without another word. Then it was her turn. Her hands shook only slightly.

"Wonderful," said Kato-san. "I'll leave you to finish your conversation, then."

Just get rid of him, Kyoko thought. But she couldn't force herself to say it. She felt so tired all of a sudden.

"The American," Soga said, eventually, "this Kuon character… he doesn't have a very good reputation. I wouldn't let a daughter of mine associate with… that. Well…" he went on, when she did not respond "…I suppose I won't have to now."

"What would you like me to say?" Kyoko asked. "I feel like there is nothing that I could tell you that would make you happy."

He was startled. Not expecting her to answer, perhaps - you rarely did, with sounding boards. "I just wish…" he said, shaking his head. "I just wish you weren't so much like your mother."

"Well, that went well," Kato said, later. They were still in the board room, with Kyoko working her way through four boxes of tissues and a large pot of tea. "The meeting with your father, I guess."

That made her snort. "I should say so. At least you got what you wanted."

"We got what you needed," Kato corrected. "Never undermine yourself, Mogami-san."

"The press already seems to be doing that for me," she said. The report must have hit while she had been in her quiet bubble, trying to prepare for the meeting with her father. A source from Kyoto who reportedly overheard a conversation she'd had with Kuon as "Setsu". She had a few options to choose from - mostly people from the Fuwa Ryoken she had interacted with - but she knew only one or two vindictive enough to take it to the press. Almost simultaneously, the hotel she and Ren had been staying at had had his servers hacked and the security tapes of their last night there had been released. It turned out, no matter how discreet they had tried to be in the corridor, some of their fervor must have shown because the blogs were calling her "the Siren" already.

And her most glamorous looks were getting paraded, too. Natsu, Mio from the Dark Moon party, Setsu, Setsu, Setsu… there was no end to the ways in which fashion reporters could dissect her looks, or leery men comment upon. "Check those legs, no wonder he went for that."

"Why do you think they did that?" Kyoko asked.

Kato-san shrugged. "To strong-arm you? To put you in your place? I've long stopped trying to figure out the motives of malicious people."

"You're not even a little bit worried?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. For all the stress of having Soga-san's disgust thrown at her face, she was oddly calm. She'd been preparing for a bomb to drop for days and now that it had, there was no more shock - just exhaustion. And a little bit of relief.

"Not anymore," Kato-san said. "You are, as of today, free to do as you please; and even before that, your guardians were letting you down so thoroughly it was only reasonable for you to go and find your own way. As soon as we get the hotel due trouble for their negligence, Yashiro-san and I will make sure every media outlet in Japan is put in its place."

"And you can do that?" she asked.

"A young actress, being hounded by sexist reporting? I can have a field day with this," Kato-san said, smiling.

She wished she was this confident. As if sensing her hesitation, Kato-san added, "Mogami-san… whatever happens, you need to remember - all you ever did was fall in love. That's not a crime. Neither is acting on those feelings."

"I just wish…" she paused "I just wish I didn't go into this so blind. I wish… I knew more, so that when it happened…"

"You would have known how to react," he finished. "Yes. I know."

Long pause. "Would it be rude of me to point out, there is a person you can talk to, right now, who can explain?"

She stared at him. She wanted to protest, but she was too tired. And anyway, what was the point? He was right. "It's not a good time. I checked. In the States…"

"Mogami-san, I'm not telling you what to do," Kato said, pushing the phone toward her. "But I do have the feeling that this young man will always be glad to hear from you."

She sat, alone, for what felt like forever. She wanted to rehearse her speech, find the exact right words. She knew he would listen, and there would not be any NG-sighs at any point. He would respect her feelings. Whatever they were.

But the more she thought the less sure she was. The grudges and fairies weren't helpful either - in fact, they seemed to have grown so dim, so distant, they could have been wisps of smoke for all that she knew.

Maybe they were.

All that was left, at the end of the day, was her - Kyoko - struggling to contain the storm of feelings in her chest. Eventually, she just gave up, and dialed.

He picked up on the first ring. "Kyoko? Please tell me it's you. Kyoko?"

"It's me," she whispered. The need in his voice… it made her weak.

There was a pregnant pause. Eventually, he said, "I saw… I'm so sorry. I've been trying to reach you but—"

"My phone was off, I know," she said, looking for the next words. No inspiration came - just a lot of feelings that seemed too big for her. There she was, talking to a man she didn't completely know, who might continue to lie to her… but who always came to her help, who held her when she cried, and who, regardless of how painful it was, let her hold him when he was hurting too.

There was so much that she had to say. And none of it could be put into words.

"Ren…" she whispered, "I need you."

She wanted to say more, but her throat seemed to close up, and she fought tears. That simple admission was undoing her, so much so she almost missed his next words.

"I'll be on the first flight out," he said. "Do you hear me? Kyoko, I'm coming for you."

A/N I'll be moving soon so that means I'm in for a period of spotty Internet. Hopefully I can finish this story by then. Thank you for your patience.

Those of you wondering what I've been up to, it's still PhD and other life stuff... but also I've been working on a *dun dun dun* original book of my own.

Excitement levels are hitting the roof here.

Right now the project is in edits but it will soon be back to me and then, my friends, I can really start telling you more about it. But you know from reading this fic - I serve drama, so it will definitely be a roller-coaster.

Want to know more? Let me know so that I can add you to my mailing list ;) Till the next time