Ren entered the Darumaya for the first time, letting in the watery morning light. The restaurant was deserted, except for the head chef, already preparing for the morning crowd. His voice was brusque, welcoming his customer without looking up from the grill. Ren stayed at the doorway, looking around casually. He was more than twenty minutes early. He had trouble sleeping again, and figured it'd be best get another early start to the day.

Emerging from a side door, a gentile plump woman smiled at the door's tinkling bell. Her eyes widen when she noticed the guest, and she brought her hands to her lips in surprise.

"Oh…you're Tsuruga Ren!"

He gave her a small but genuine smile. "I'm here to pick up Mogami-san."

"Oh, are you waiting for Kyoko-chan?" She looked pleased, and a bit embarrassed. She swept the front of her apron. "Hold on one moment. I'll go and see if she's ready." She turned and went back through the door she had just entered. He could hear her walking up the stairs, calling out for the adolescent actress in an nervous voice.

Ren turned his head, feeling watched. The chef had taken his eyes off the stove, and was looking at him with intense eyes. Ren gave a smile he habitually gave when meeting excited staff members for the first time. The chef's lips turned down in a frown, and went back to staring at the grill.

The actor was unnerved. He felt like he was shot down. Ren wracked his brain for conversations.

"You've a…very nice restaurant here." Ren mentioned nervously. The chef simply grunted in reply.

"It looks quite like the Mikata. Have you seen the show?" he continued, somewhat lamely. He kicked himself. Usually Ren was the one trying to avoid making small talk, not instigating it. For some reason, he wanted this cook to look favorably upon him.

"I do not approve of television." The chef said, speaking clearly for the first time. This surprised the tall actor. It was one thing to not like television, but to disapprove of it? Ren felt sudden very young. He hadn't met many old-fashioned Japanese citizens in his line of work. Not even his elder Japanese relatives were very old-fashioned.

"Have you not seen Mogami-san's acting then?" Ren asked, truly curious. The chef had paused his cutting, looking down at the half sliced daikon.

"I have seen her work on occasion. She is…a very dedicated young lady." For the first time in the conversation, the edge of his lips turned up in a minute smile before falling away almost immediately. Ren knew the chef felt strongly for the young girl by the sudden show of expression. He returned to his cuisine work.

"She is quite a special woman." Ren agreed, glad to be on safe conversational ground.

Surprisingly, the chef continued. His voice became more firm as he sliced the popular vegetable with infinite skill and speed.

"She does not fool around with silly things like gossip or romance."

Ren took a hard silent gulp. He wondered whether he had his intentions written on his face. What would this man say if he found out that the actor was trying to win the reliable and sweet Kyoko that had lived under their roof for all this time? He'd surely talk her out of it, even if Ren had been somehow able to charm her. Or perhaps the man would come straight for him. His ability with his chef knife looked refined enough to cut through something as soft as a suitor's neck.

The patter of two sets of feet came down the stairwell. He welcomed the distraction with a smile.

"Tsuruga-san. I'm sorry I didn't meet you outside."

"That's perfectly okay Mogami-san. I am quite early, after all."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. Today ensemble was almost the polar opposite of yesterday's outfit. Everything from her oxford boots, to her ruffled black shirt and dress pants were black. She even had painted her nails with the colour. If her hair were still black from playing Mio, he would have taken her for one of dark Lolita girls.

"Mogami-san…are you feeling okay today?"

"Of course Tsuruga-san." She must have a reason for the outfit. "I'm sorry to have held you up."

He turned to her caretakers and smiled. "I will drive her home tonight, so please do not worry."

They said their goodbyes, and exited the restaurant side by side.

The matron of the Darumaya turned to her husband in a small romantic sigh. "Tsuruga-san seems so nice, picking up Kyoko-chan so early in the morning to bring her to work."

Her husband grunted in acknowledgment, and went to working on the radishes. He had an minuscule smile. She really was a special girl. No big shot actor would sweep her off her feet without his approval.

They both said very little on the drive. He had watched with the corner of his eye in curiosity. She closed her eyes and swung her body back and forth to inaudible music. Arching her the fingers on her left hand, she held the elbow high. With the right, she clasped the air, and ran her hand back and forth as if playing invisible strings. Every so often she'd hum a note out loud, catch herself, then apologize.

She reminded him of a sankyoku (1) member, playing the kokyu (2) for an important guest. He had planned to try and talk to her, and at least get her calling him by his first name like Yashiro had suggested last night. She looked so concentrated however, he didn't want to break her stride. She was acting like a true actress preparing for a part.

He had driven to Queen studios and parked before he had dared to say anything to her.

"Mogami-san? Mogami-san? Mogami-san?!" She finally snapped out of her reverie. "What is your new part like?" Ren asked, finally breaking the silence.

She put a finger to the side of her lips, thinking carefully how to phrase it.

"The song is very…haunting. I'm a couple of parts. Mainly I am trapped princess, mourning and playing the cello."

"Mogami-san, a cello is much bigger than what you've been pretending to play." He had slipped into senpai mode. "You look like you're playing the kokyu. You have to space your limbs apart more, and look like you're wrapping your arms around something a bit more broad."

"Like this?" She widened her arms, curved them, and hunched over. He couldn't help letting out a small laugh. Inadvertently she had mirrored the shape of a confused, itchy baboon.

"You look a bit like a monkey, patting your head and scratching your stomach." She gave him an annoyed look. "Here…"

Ren reached over the car, and put her body in the proper position. He made her lift her elbow up, and fumbled with her fingers until she held an imaginary bow properly. Putting his hand on top of hers, he guided her wrist across unseen threads, slow at first, and then faster.

He looked up to see how close he was to her face. Her eyes were still cast down, watching to make sure her fingers kept at the proper angle. He could see her lashes, and a peek of her gold iris between them. Her breath was sweet, and he wondered what he should do. Before her could do anything however, Kyoko looked up. She backed her head away immediately, and turned to the side.

"Ts-ts-turuga-san! I'm sorry!"

He swiftly pulled away before he scared her more. He turned on his false smile.

"That was pretty good, but you'll get the feel of it when you actually hold one."

"H-hai! Thank you!"

She shut the door with a snap, and ran to the entrance. He sighed. Senpai Ren was not going to be the one to win her over.

"She looks so cute!"

"Yeah! Like a Victorian doll! I want to take her home!"

A guy snickered next to them. "I wouldn't mind taking her home either."

Much of the staff wrapped around the stage, watching the scene with mounting interest. Yashiro and Ren entered the studio, looking for the young actress. His manager had been berating him all day for what took place that morning. He vowed to never tell the truth again.

"Excuse me," Yashiro caught the attention of the nearest stage hand. "Have you seen Mogami Kyoko? She's an actress about this high, has gold eyes, and sometimes acts as if possessed?"

He nodded almost immediately and pointed towards the center of the crowd.

Ren looked worried at the mounting group of people. He could see the director's chair peaking through the gaps in the crowd. "Is something wrong?" he asked the employee.

"No no, I think the director is just testing her. That girl, she was practicing the cello on breaks all day today. She had sounded awful this morning, but now she's moving the bow over the strings like she's been playing it her whole life."

The director's voice cut through the air, catching the men by surprise.

"Mogami, again! You look pretty and sad, but I want you to pour your beauty and your unhappiness through the music. I want you to be the shell the sounds are using to escape!"

Adjusting his view through the crowd, he spotted her on the set. It was sparsely decorated three-sided box. There were several false windows, water droplets and lighting flashes set to loop. It would have looked like a serious storm was just outside if it weren't for the lack of thunder. The walls were crinkled and beige, lit with two prop wall sconces. All along the floor were ragged books. Right in the middle, sat her.

The Victorian full white dress and fingerless lace gloves looked detailed, even from the distance they were at. The pale material set off by her auburn curled wig, matching the shade of the cello between her hidden legs. Those two items were the only real splashes of colour on the entire stage. It made to be a very frilly and modest outfit, something out of her princess fantasies. Ren could see why she had called her character a princess. She didn't look to be enjoying it though. Her eyes were as black as his, as she raised her bow and got into position once again without comment.

"Action!"

(3) She slowly guided the bow across the string; its first note setting the tone for the entire moment. A collective breath were held. Although her body moved, she looked like a doll, set on puppet strings. Her eyes were listless and empty, as she rocked her head side to side. The cello played as if the instrument were pleading to be let go.

Her hands became like blurs on the instrument as the solo went on. Frenzied fingers moved up and down the fingerboard, evicting a ghostly tune that sped up. The notes felt like frantic cries; the cello rocked on its endpin with her body. The notes got higher and higher, reaching a final summit before she pulled her bow away.

"Okay! Cameras, we need you in for a close up this time. Make especially sure to get the moment of her hands."

The tune couldn't have been more than twenty seconds, but the scene had held him spellbound. Yashiro nudged him in the ribs.

"This is not the time to be captivated. You can't just admire her anymore. You need to move."

This was not a productive first day.

******

"Sankyoku is a type of three-member Japanese traditional musical ensemble."

"The kokyu is a traditional Japanese string instrument, played with a bow."

If you're curious on the part Kyoko is supposed to be playing on the cello, please look up Kanon Wakeshima – Still Doll. The instrumental piece is right in the middle, about 1:25 minutes in. It wasn't the PV I was originally planning, but for some reason the idea stuck when it got shuffled onto my playlist. I'd like Kyoko to dabble in the world of music a bit.

I'm planning for this to have seven more chapters. Please review...I hate pleading...but they feel like Ren's warm smile...