I don't own Skip Beat.

Don't ask me where I've been. Just... don't.

Kyoko sat in her room in Daruma-ya, counting the minutes.

It was dark outside. It wouldn't be dark for long.

She held the phone in her hands, replaying the conversations from the last few days, over and over and over again. Kato and Yashiro thought she was courting danger, returning to her home so soon. The President even raised an eyebrow when she relayed her conversation with Kuon.

"It's a high stakes game," he said. "I would much rather the two of you laid low."

Kyoko had just given him a look. Lori sighed.

"But I cannot stop you. When does he land again?"

"Tomorrow. Around 4 in the morning."

"And he'll manage to get this whole plan in motion before the paps are up?"

"Yes."

Lori sighed again. "Kami help us all. You've pulled some magic together before, Kyoko, but…"

"Please, President." She swallowed. "I know what's at stake. But—"

But the truth of the matter was, it would be bad regardless of whether they tried Kuon's plan or not. Tsuruga Ren was a persona that could probably withstand close scrutiny, if all else failed. He could save his career and reputation, if it came to that. Mogami Kyoko had no such fall back plan.

The screen lit up. Text message incoming.

We're at the changeover. How are you holding up?

Kyoko walked to the window and took a peek through the blinds. She'd warned Okami-san and Taicho-san, but even with that, seeing the news van parked across the street made her stomach drop.

Scared. You?

The answer was instantaneous.

Terrified.

A second later, he added:

I'll be with you first thing.

Kyoko took a deep breath. What could she write next? Something cool? Something nonchalant?

As if. They were too far gone for that. I need you.

If I could grow wings right now would be there. Wait for me.

The accountant was messing around with his paperwork again. Yashiro studied him from the corner of his eye - how could he be so calm? At a time like this?

"Don't you want to watch the news broadcast?" he asked Kato.

"They haven't started yet."

And you can just sit there, unperturbed? Yashiro wanted to throttle him. "You know, you could have watched this from your office."

"I could have, but my stuff is still here." He finally looked up, making Yashiro wish he hadn't spoken at all. Kato had a way of turning his attention on people that made them feel completely useless and insignificant. Yashiro was fine with it… so long as it was turned on other people.

And that was Kato when he was exhausted.

"If you told me I would be watching a live feed from outside Kyoko's home, as paparazzi were waiting to grill her about her relationship with Ren…" Yashiro said.

"You'd tell them that you would have never let that happen," the other man replied. "What's that saying about men's plans?"

The program was running filler content. They didn't know when Kyoko would show up or when they could start getting their content from her. But if the yellow press knew something well, it was smelling out a juicy story. There was a frenzy building up. And they had stoked it deliberately, by sending their actress home, without any handlers. It was like bloodying the waters for a bunch of sharks.

"Do you trust Kuon?"

"Sorry, what?"

The couch dipped, and Yashiro turned to look at Kato.

"Do you trust Kuon?" Kato asked again.

Did he? Was it such a weird thing to ask?

"I trusted Tsuruga Ren. Hizuri Kuon… I'm not so sure."

"Neither do I," Kato said.

"Really?"

"No. The reports paint him as impulsive, cocky, and only cares about his own ego. I wouldn't trust him to drive me to the airport let alone save my reputation."

Yashiro frowned. The part of him that was Ren's friend, Ren's manager, immediately got defensive. But herein lay the rub - he had been Ren's manager. He had never - not even on his worst days - had to deal with Kuon.

"Why go along with the plan then? Kyoko respects you - she would have listened to your council."

"I didn't throw my weight behind it for the same reason you didn't," Kato said. "I trust Kyoko. And I respect her right to make decisions for her own life."

The feed changed from B-roll to a live stream. A nice car had pulled up in front of Daruma-ya. A flashy, American-looking car. The sort that a cocky Hollywood playboy might hire on a short trip to another country. And stepping out of it…

"Showtime," Kato muttered.

Yashiro had to take his glasses off, wipe them, put them on again. Starting from the screen, larger than life, was Hizuri Kuu.

"Is he… sparking?" he muttered.

"I'm pretty sure it's the sunlight."

"I'm pretty sure it's not." Kyoko had a name for this, Yashiro knew. The fairy prince sparkle or whatever. It had the power to reduce any woman to a puddle of mush, and now it was turned on the television reporters. "I pity the audience," Yashiro said.

Onscreen, Kuon was just standing in front of his car, smiling as the reporters fired question after question at him. You could never tell he'd been on a trans-Pacific flight, let alone one who had arrived at four o'clock in the morning. He looked as fresh as a shampoo commercial, his clothes were just right. Even his hair - which was so blonde it was nearly white - seemed to have a life of its own.

But the biggest difference was how he stood. Yashiro was aware of Tsuruga Ren's usual look: subdued, respectful, unmistakably Japanese. The guy staring back from the screen had this massive grin on his face and a loose stance, looking for all the world as if he had not a single care. Tsuruga Ren had held himself like he expected to be punched. Hizuri Kuon looks like he might just take the punch, laugh, and then knock whomever attacked him back on his ass.

"Well," Kato said, "I can see why nobody ever made the connection."

The rolling text under the feed made absolutely no sense, and of course, it would not. The press had been readying itself to savage an actress who had forgotten her place. Instead, they got her beau.

Kuon held up his hands. "One at a time, folks, one at a time," he said, his English impeccable. No accent in sight, not even a hint of his years of living in Japan. He was like a gaijin who had touched down in Narita for the first time.

He looked around and then pointed at one reporter who blurted out: "Hizuri-san, what news of Ms Julie?"

Kuon considered the question and replied in Japanese. "My mother's doing great. Alive, kicking, and wondering why I haven't introduced her to my girlfriend yet."

That, of course, unleashed the floodgates.

"Hizuri-san, Hizuri-san…"

"What's your relationship with Mogami Kyoko?"

"Is it true that she was your manager while you were shooting Black Jack?"

"How will you respond to the rumours that you were taking drugs on set?"

Kuon raised his hands again, demanding silence. As if he had flipped a switch, the crowd went silent. And here I thought that the press respected nobody, Yashiro thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've been taking a break from the public eye." He lied without even blinking. Pushing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he looked at every camera and reported dead in the eye before adding, "I was hoping that my return to cinema would be a bit more low-key than this, so this is a bit overwhelming."

"Hizuri-kun, do you have no comment on…"

"Please. I have a lot of comments, and I will make them if you give me a chance." He grinned even wider, showing an awful lot of teeth. Definitely not the Tsuruga Ren approach. "As you know, my mother has been in the hospital for a while now, and she's just had the last of her treatments. I've been very lucky to have the support of my talent agency, and my managers in this difficult time, but most of all, I have been blessed with the support of my lovely girlfriend."

As if on cue, the door to Daruma-ya opened. The reporters whirled around immediately, but the cameras were still trained on Kuon's face and captured his expression perfectly.

"Either he's a really good actor," Kato said. "Or he really does love her."

Yashiro shook his head. Ren had never looked so happy. Or so pleased. Was this because he was Kuon? Or because of Kyoko?

She stood at the porch, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Nothing even remotely scandalous, or even that special. Yet, Kuon was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. When he held out his hand and she walked up to hug him, Yashiro could almost hear a thousand hearts across the country melting. Or breaking, he wasn't sure.

The paps were yammering on again, throwing questions at them. Kuon held out his hand again.

"Everyone, I'm sure that you have a lot to say. But we've got a busy day today and if we don't hurry, we'll mess our train. Right my dear?"

"Of course." Kyoko's smile was perfectly relaxed. You'd have no idea she was as clueless as the rest of them - not then, not as they got back in the car and drove away, to questions being fired at them from all sides.

Yashiro breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm guessing that's the worst of it done," Kato said.

"They're not out of the woods yet," Yashiro replied. "But… they could have done a lot worse than that."

The other man considered it for a bit. "Shall we keep watching, then?"

Yashiro stood up. "I'd better get some popcorn going. Knowing Ren, we'll need it."

The Shinkansen could move at a speed of up to 200 mph, and yet inside, time seemed to go in extra slow motion. Kyoko wasn't completely sure she wasn't dreaming yet - sitting between the window and Kuon, she had the distinct sense that she had stepped into an alternative dimension. If it wasn't for the odd person walking buy, giving them a startled look, or the reporters sitting in the other end of the car, she could have easily imagined she was in the land of the fairies.

On their journey there, and since boarding the train, Kuon had barely let go of her hand. The most scandalous thing they had done so far is embrace in front of the cameras, and yet sitting there right now, it felt incredibly intimate.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" she whispered about 30 minutes into their trip.

He slipped a pair of tickets from his jacket. "Kyoto. I also got us accommodation, but if you don't feel like staying over, we can make it a day trip."

She shook her head, and then leaned against his shoulder, exhaustion rendering her momentarily weak. All this time, she was still waiting for the sky to cave in. Kuon raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers.

"Are you going to tell me where exactly in Kyoto we're going to?" she whispered, fearful of a microphone being trained on them.

"That one's a surprise," he said. After a pause, he added, "We might have to stop by a supermarket first, though."

Kyoko nodded. Then, deciding that she had nothing better to do for the next two hours, she settled in for a nap. Kuon waited a beat, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

They might catch a photograph of them in the stops. He didn't care one bit.

This was already better publicity than any of the directors they worked with could hope for.

Lori watched the news only in the morning. Time stopped for no-one, and he had meetings to go to, and underlings to see. Still - glancing through his social media accounts, he couldn't help a small, contended grin spreading through his face.

Kuu called around lunchtime.

"Julie's well," he said, before Lori could speak a word. Then, "What's happening? I saw the statement and then it's been nothing but 'Lovebirds still on train' from the press."

"They only just reached their destination," the President said, as he paced his office. His parrot - he was in another pirate outfit today - squawked and went to hunt for spiders on the ceiling. "Give them ten minutes to get their bearings, five minutes to find a cab, and half an hour for traffic before any further updates roll in."

"Don't forget to add a ten minute buffer, you lying weasel," Kuu said, barely lightening the mood. Kuon and Kyoko were doing a good job at being boring right now, but what about the rest of the outing? Both he and the President knew, one whiff of things being staged and this whole scheme could fall apart. "Boss… how did they seem to you?"

"Kyoko looks like someone who's been hounded for the past week," Lori said. "Kuon looks… happy."

Kuu sighed. "Damn it. I hope he's not getting his hopes too high."

"If he hadn't, he wouldn't be here. And honestly, I think Kyoko deserves nothing better." Even if they got found out… at least Kyoko would not be turned into a scapegoat. Lori sighed again - he liked to think he had done a good job with supporting his talents, but times like this brought his shortcomings in stark relief. He'd thrown Kyoko in all sorts of situations that pushed her boundaries - situations that would have pushed the boundaries of anybody - thinking that her resilience and smarts would keep her out of trouble. But he'd done nothing to prepare her for a full-on onslaught from the press. If anything, he'd practically gift-wrapped the story for the reporters.

What did I think was going to happen?

Nothing. He hadn't been thinking at all.

"Boss? Are you still there?" Kuu asked.

"I was just wondering if I could give Kyoko a curfew, once all of this is over," Lori said.

The other man chuckled. "You can give her one, but I'd love to see you try to enforce it. I know my son - if you put her in a tower, he'll find a way to climb it just to spite you."

"Serves me right," Lori sighed.

Just then another update rolled in. A reporter, complaining about the freedom of the press being undermined. "Ah… I believe they reached the cemetery a bit quicker than expected."

The gravestone had seen better days - moss had crept up around the base and the sides, and the front was dirty from its exposure to the elements. Had it not been for the caretaker who had led them here, she would never have imagined this was her mother's final resting place.

It was on a hill, overlooking the city. She couldn't stop thinking her mother would hate the sunlight.

Then again, there's no more headaches, are there? Kyoko thought, as Kuon started to unpack the cleaning supplies they'd bought on the way over. Out loud, she asked, "How did you know she was here?"

"Lucky guess," he said. They each picked a side and got to work, scrubbing the stone, pulling out ivy that had grown too deep. "I didn't know what your mother would have liked, but I figured your guardians would have had to show you proof that she was dead at some point."

She wasn't so sure about that. For all she knew, the Fuwas would have had her sign away her inheritance if Sho hadn't dragged her to Tokyo.

Or maybe, just maybe, Kuon was right.

And maybe, she thought as she washed the dirt and grime away, revealing her mother's name and birthday, the Fuwas had thought that she might like a place to visit some day.

Kuon worked in silence next to her - his jeans and shirt getting progressively more stained as the day wore on. He didn't seem to mind at all, though. If anything, the sweat and mud seemed to turn him human. How is it possible, Kyoko wondered, how can it be that you're here? How?

"You think they'll come for us here?" she asked. They weren't too far from the gate - someone would still take a picture with a long range lens.

"They're welcome to take any picture they like," he replied, wiping his brow and leaving a streak of dirt across his face. Deliberately making himself look worse. "If they sell more papers touting unattractive shots of me, perhaps they'll leave you to work in peace."

She wanted to kiss him. Instead, she handed him a wipe.

When they were finished, she washed the gravestone one more time, while Kuon lit two sticks of incense. The day seemed to go completely still - a moment of quiet that stretched and stretched, seemingly to infinity.

"Do you want me to give you some privacy?" he asked, finally.

She shook her head, and instead took his hand in hers once again. She tried conjuring an image of her mother at peace - serene, free from the pain, patient - and she just couldn't. Her memories from childhood kept turning to pulled blinds and demands for quiet. There must have been nice moments - they had to exist - but they would not resurface. All she had was the knowledge of those last years, and the shared memories of two men with vastly different experiences of the same person.

Her father had loved her once, then left, hating her.

Kato-san had hated her once, and then slowly grown to respect her.

And she… she…

I don't know what you'd think of this, Kyoko thought, and I don't know what our relationship would have been, if things were different. But I know you loved me as best as you could… and I hope you're proud of me, even if I'm not what you wished I was.

"Do you want to leave?" Kyoko asked. Kuon shook his head.

"A moment longer. I have a few things to say to her as well."

Afternoon coverage. Jelly Woods glanced at her phone, then went back to transforming Kanae for her performance. "Looks like the only spicy bit of news the press is getting is that Hizuri Kuon sweats. I'd be annoyed if I were their viewer. I could have told them that."

Kanae smirked. "I take it the 'kill them with boredom' plan is working then?"

"You have no idea. They're ready to pack up and leave."

"Let's hope they don't interrupt their dinner."

"Are you kidding me? Kuon would probably thank them for it."

"True," Kanae said, "But Kyoko will not."

"You said you got us accommodation," Kyoko said, as they slowly made their way across the cemetery. "Am I correct in guessing it's at a certain ryoken?"

"It seemed like the logical choice," Kuon said. "As far as you know, the Fuwas never tipped anybody off. But… I'm happy to take the evening train to Tokyo if you'd rather not face them."

Kyoko pondered this. Then, seeing their welcoming committee lingering in the gates, she said, "Let's stay. But I want to go for a little walk first. I know a few restaurants that deserve good exposure."

"This is going to hurt my stomach, isn't it?"

"Trust me," she said, "you won't be leaving an empty plate here."

They wandered through the city, weaving through side streets and taking various shortcuts. The press followed them for a while, then, probably tipped off by whomever had their itinerary, all but the most persistent ones left. Kyoko used the opportunity to take Ren to her favourite place in town - the place she wished Sho would take her, the place that she could now afford to enjoy as much as she liked.

"This used to be a major treat for me," she said, as they took their seats. She knew there was a long-range mike this time, and she didn't care.

"Egg burgers then?"

"Better. The best okonomiyaki this side of the island."

Kuon sparkled at her. She distracted herself by chatting to the waitress, and then, later, to the chef. They spent some time going over neutral topics for the benefit of any onlookers, before they saw the last of the reporters give up and go find dinner of their own.

"So," Kyoko said, picking up her chopsticks. "Are you going to tell me what the end strategy is here?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning… what scene are we meant to be giving them."

"No scene," Kuon said. "Not unless you want me to show off my bad boy moves and steal a motorbike for us to ride off on."

She cringed. "Please don't. I'm worried enough about coming off as fake as it is."

Without missing a beat, he picked her hand up and kissed it - as he had, so many times over this day. "You're beautiful and strong, just the way you are," he said. "There's nothing fake about today. I've wanted to take you out on a date since the moment you stood up to me that first time in LME."

Kyoko blushed. Somewhere in the distance, she imagined the cameras clicking. "Don't be silly."

"I'm dead serious," Kuon said. "And you can tell I'm dead serious because you can read my expressions better than my own parents."

She shook her head. "It's not that hard. And you hated me before."

"I hated the person that guy made you into," he said. "I hated that you'd had to become cynical in order to survive. I never hated you, and I never wanted you to suffer the way I had in this business."

"Well, I should come clean - I hated you… the other you… a fair bit. Before we got to know each other."

"I bet. I was doing my best to make you hate me."

Kyoko leaned her head against their interlocked hands. "I just wish we had more time. To explore this without the pressure."

"We have all the time in the world," Kuon said. "You know storytelling, Kyoko. Our public—" he flicked his eyes in the direction of the street "—loves a redemption narrative. It just so happens that we're not acting."

"Save the thought. You're yet to meet my guardians."

"Speaking of which… Yashiro-san told me you were trying to get permission for a passport. Is there anything I can do to help."

For a moment, Kyoko thought about telling him what had happened with her father. His cruel words, his cutting remarks. How he'd been struck dumb by Kato-san's declaration that the only reason she'd summoned him was to get her freedom… and ensure neither of them spoke about this ever again. Looking back, she could kind of see why the man had been so taken aback. She must have seemed so cold. So calculating.

All she had wanted was to get through the meeting with her dignity intact. The discovery of Kuon's true identity, the press tip-offs… it had been a one-two punch of nastiness. She really hadn't wanted to break down in front of a complete stranger.

Was I too hasty?

Looking at Kuon, she wondered whether he would have made the meeting any more bearable.

Maybe. But I can't wait for him all the time.

Smiling, Kyoko squeezed his hand. "It's fine. I sorted things out." Glancing toward the street, she added, "Let's go. I'm ready to turn in for the night."