Sho's Bad Week
His week was not going well at all. Ever since that day that Shoko had off and he had made the grievous error of paying Kyoko a visit on the set of Sacred Lotus to scold her, he had one bad experience after another. As if it weren't bad enough that he ran into that creepy little girl after the whole ordeal, he was now enduring and endless string of mishaps. They had bodily carried him out of the studio and threw him out on his butt, reminiscent ala Kyoko's first eviction from Fuji TV before her trek into the world of entertainment. How humiliating...
What made things worse is they couldn't reach Shoko-san and they had to call Akatoki directly, causing a rather embarrassing situation of him having to explain why he was there in the first place and he honestly didn't have a satisfactory answer. Well, at least not an answer that the CEO found acceptable anyway. Sho sat back in his seat and winced at the dressing down that Shoko had given him for having to rearrange his schedule to now include the required sensitivity training and sexual harassment classes that he would have to endure for the next four months, due to his answers on what Kyoko was to him. The added bonus of that particular day, the day after his reprimand of Kyoko, was those stupid pictures of his visit and the corresponding photos of him buying that horrifying magazine, "Princess".
On day three of his hellish week, he could swear that he saw that creepy little girl, dressed like one of Kyoko's little princess dolls that she used to make. He shivered at the thought. Maybe, Kyoko really was some sort of demonic presence in his life. He shook his head at the thought. He was not about to take a trip down that stupid, superstitious avenue. Although, he had to admit, it would make sense of all of the troubles he would have later in the week.
He shook the crazy thoughts from his mind and pondered over day three and how his disastrous "Concert In The Park" went. Not only had a dog-walker lost control of the eight large dogs she had brought with her in the midst of a crowd of screaming fangirls, he had been quickly educated on the existence of "Micro-climates" in downtown Tokyo via a freak hailstorm, that proceeded to pummel him and all of his fans for 38 minutes and then leave as quickly as it came. It all wouldn't have been so bad, had the Tibetan Mastiff not knocked him on his stomach, ripped the seat of his pants out and the two Great Danes made quick work of his favorite shoes, while they were still on his feet. He shivered at that thought.
Day four... Ahhhh... Day four, what a day. Oddly enough, he just hadn't been able to sleep so he decided to spend a day shopping to replace the pants and shoes that those vicious beasts destroyed on day three. It wasn't so much a really bad day, like the previous three but he could swear to all gods that he knew of, that he heard that creepy little girl and saw her. Was she following him? Shoko told him he needed to stop being so paranoid or get more sleep. Did she have something to do with everything that was going on in his life? No, not possible. It didn't make any sense.
Anyway~ that particular day, he seemed to have more male fans than females bothering him. It was unsettling. Not that he had a problem with it, fans were fans but when, as a young growing male that craves female attention gets more attention from his more masculine, older fans, it tends to be a bit awkward. However, he finally found a pair of nice leather pants to replace his others (After no end of unnecessary groping from the tailor) three hours later. At least the shoes hadn't been that difficult to find, but it would cost him another 30,000 yen and in a different color. He'd make it work. He always did.
Day five. He had to admit, when it rains... it pours. Day five came with the news that he had just been beat out for number one on the charts from some cute, little newbie, half-Japanese Brit, named Setsuka Heel. He saw the news on one of the Big Screens in downtown and he would have never noticed that creepy little girl again if he hadn't heard her squeal, "ONEE-SAMA!". His head whipped around to find the owner of the voice and saw the little demon-spawn leap into the arms of a very scary, tall male that accompanied the delicious, blonde bomb-shell with icy blue eyes and an angelic voice.
The disappointment wasn't really in full force until he was hit by an unexpected cloudburst on the side of the street he was watching from. Once it had ended, he had been soaked to the bone, his leather pants were beginning to cling to him and uncomfortably tighten, the his brand new, beautiful shoes had been punctured by a loose nail on the street when he stepped in a puddle and it ripped down the arch of the left shoe. They were ruined.
He really didn't know the full impact of the rainstorm or the day until he finally stripped off all his wet clothing and took a nice hot shower in the apartment he shared with Shoko. The only thing that Shoko heard emanating from the bathroom after her charge exited the shower was the horrified scream that would send even the bravest of souls fleeing from the area. She could have sworn that some specter had taken up residence with her. When Sho opened the bathroom door, she was greeted by a Sho Fuwa with a stunning, bright, neon green, head of hair. It was horrible, there wasn't a single stylist or salon available. Sadly he had an endless string of interviews the next day that were scheduled to promote his next concert series and they couldn't be canceled or rescheduled.
Day six had started early because of the hair fiasco. He had discovered that morning that his new leather pants, due to the rain, had shrunk down at least three sizes and he couldn't even think to get one leg in. His new shoes? They were now sharing the same final resting place as his first pair, the floor of his expansive closet, in the very back, next to the first pair. Now he had to wear his uncomfortable boots all day. At least he had a good pair of black denims that were stylishly distressed.
He looked into the mirror and groaned at the neon-green mop that made up his hair at the moment. This day had disaster written all over it, just like his past week. Had Kyoko put some kind of hex on him or something? The notion didn't seem so far-fetched at this point and what did that creepy little girl with the hot sister, have to do with it all?
It wasn't until four hours later, at about 10am that Shoko was able to finally get a hold of one of the fifty stylists that she had the number for and the soonest the woman would be able to help with the situation would be at 4pm three days hence. A wig was suggested. A wig! Can you believe it?! They suggested that HE wear a wig, Sho Fuwa! How could they even expect something like that? Needless to say, a wig it was. An itchy, sweaty, fake cap of synthetic hair.
Honestly? He never realized that a day could go south so quickly until he officially met Setsuka Heel and her brother Cain. He shivered as he thought back on that moment in the greenroom. The way the "Siblings" hung on each other made him uncomfortable and Cain kept giving him this look that made his blood go cold. Not that he was actually interested in the scary sister, with the haunting blue eyes and the little skulls and bones that decorated her person. What made everything worse is the damn wig would not stop itching.
The topper to his horrible week had to have been when they finally all made it to stage to do the interviews before the photo shoot that would follow for the corresponding magazine that complimented the show. He was distracted by seeing a certain little creepy girl off-stage and didn't see the little ridge, that was obvious to others and had been warned about in the greenroom, under the carpet. His foot stepped on the ridge, hung up on the loose shoelace of his boot and he stumbled, falling face first onto the floor, skewing his wig and revealing a neon-green, patchy head of hair that had begun the process of going bald.
It was a live show... He was mortified. Especially when he heard the gasps, cries and the clicks of camera phones, of all of the girls in the audience. Setsuka and her brother just kept on walking like nothing had happened as his manager, the director, the producer and the crew members tried to help him up, causing his wig to fall to the floor completely, revealing that he indeed had lost patches of his green hair throughout the day. As if that weren't humiliating enough, the well worn, distressed jeans he had worn that day, decided that they had been distressed enough and finally said their goodbyes to the seam on his backside, revealing the only pair of clean underwear he had that day. A pair of bright blue briefs that had red edgings and a big "S" emblazoned across the back with yellow highlighting.
Day seven... Nope, not gonna happen. He was not about to leave the safety of his bedroom! Shoko would have to drag him out kicking and screaming if she wanted him to go anywhere. He was determined to stay wrapped in the safety of his blankets for however long it took for his hair to grow back and his dignity to recover.
Across town in a darkened room of a large mansion that resembled the Taj Mahal, sat a creepy little girl with a thick, leather-bound book in her lap, smiling happily at the small cauldron on the electric burner she kept hidden and the progress she had made in getting her Onee-sama and her Ren-sama together. She was a bit perplexed as to why her grandfather found it so difficult. All she had to do is get rid of one very large roach.