Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat!

Chapter 3

When Kyoko woke up she was laying on the floor. She pushed herself up, wincing at the soreness of her body. Sleeping on the hard wood floor was definitely not good for her. The young girl stood, looking down to inspect herself. She groaned in dismay as she realized the pretty dress Sho-chan's parents gave to her were wrinkled. She dusted herself off, smoothed the wrinkles as well as she could. She stumbled over to the adjoining bathroom. She looked in the mirror and sighed at her reflection. She looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffed up. The dry tear tracks were noticeable and stung her round cheeks. One of her hair ties had come loose, allowing half of her hair to hang down while the other half was still kept in its pigtail by the remaining band. The lines in her face from laying for hours on her sleeve almost looked like the wrinkles of an old woman tired of the trials of life.

She pulled the other hair tie loose, smoothed down her messy hair, and tied it all up into a single ponytail. She looked down into the porcelain sink, wanting reprieve from looking at her own pathetic reflection. She rinsed her face until the tear tracks were no longer obvious. Glancing up again, her features seemed worse as the water made its paleness glitter unnaturally. Frustration guiding her hands, she rubbed at her face viciously, attempting to erase the lines that refused to disappear. Anger and disappointment curling within her, she shoved the sink, only succeeding in pushing herself back. She felt drained, anger melting away. Giving up, she returned to the room.

Her gaze couldn't help but be caught by the shreds of white paper on the dark wood floor. She kneeled, picking up the scraps. Her hand stilled where it hovered over three final scraps, the only ones that had any color other than black. They had fallen to sit right beside each other, the red numbers somehow intact, as if mocking her with her failure. Her shuddering hand finally lifted them, crumpling them up in a small fist. She stepped over to the trash can, carrying the scraps in the skirt of her dress and allowed them to fall into the bin. She looked down at the crumpled shreds still in her hand. The red marker had bled through the paper and though it couldn't be read in its balled up condition, the scores seemed to glare at her. She held her hand above the bin, planning on letting them fall in, on erasing her failure, but she hesitated. Even if she let them go, if she never spoke of them again, if they were burned beyond recognition in an incinerator, she'd still know. And she'd still know. Her failure would not leave. It was innate, a trait she was cursed with. She looked up, blinked rapidly to keep the fresh tears that flooded her eyes at bay. She stuffed the scraps into her pocket and moved to leave the room. She was sure Sho-chan's mother would need help.

But coming face-to-face with the door made her pause. The brown of the door was stained with little smears. She looked down at her hands, surprised to see them battered. Flexing her fingers, she was surprised to feel pain shoot up her arms. The stains were blood, her blood. She swallowed hard, remembering. The trepidation as she greeted her. Her, furious. Snatching papers out of small hands. The sound of shredding paper. The slow motion drop as they fell, like snow, onto the floor below. Her, so graceful, gliding passed her, the sudden motion making her fall down in her haste to get out of the way. The back of a businesswoman as she exited the room. And finally, the door slamming shut.

She'd been still, sitting on the floor for a long moment. She'd listened to the door rattling in its frame until the sound subsided. She'd taken a moment to regain her bearings. Then she'd stood, ready to leave the room and return to her duties. They would take her mind off of things. But as she had tried to get out, the door hadn't budged. The knob had turned, the room did not have a lock, but the door had not move. She'd knocked, fear tickling at the edge of her senses. No answer. The quiet had been stifling. She'd turned the knob, slammed a shoulder against the door. It moved, but only barely. She swallowed hard as understanding set in. She hadn't left. She was here, leaning against the door, blocking it. This was to be her punishment, and she was making sure that such punishment was adequate, personally.

She knocked against the door again and asked softly, "Mother? May I please come out?"

She heard shifting on the other end but there was no reply was given.

"Mother...please?"

Dead silence.

She panicked, knocking insistently. "Mother, I'll do better, I promise! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

She heard a disappointed sigh from the other side of the door.

Kyoko's blood had run cold. To be alone after such a confrontation. To have no chores or homework or duties to distract her with. Her throat had constricted with the thought. She'd knocked, slamming little fists at the door again and again, repeating apology after apology to the immovable woman on the other side. Tears had burned their way down her cheeks in an unending cascade. She'd begged and knocked until her hands bled and her pleas became unitelligible as her hiccuping sobs obscured words. Giving up, she had laid on the floor, curling up by the door. And waited.

Shaking the memory from her mind, Kyoko stumbled out the door in her haste to leave the wretched room. She gasped in deep breaths, being out of the room she could imagine even the air tasting like freedom. She hastened, wanting to meet with Sho-chan's mother for her chores. Anything, anything to get her mind off the woman. And then she was distracted as walked passed a window. The light felt warm, welcoming. Outside she was sure she saw a fairy flit passed. She needed to get out of here. She took the first door she could to get outside. She sprinted, feeling better with each step that put distance between her and the Fuwa's ryokan. She hadn't been quiet. She was sure they'd heard. They always did. She could tell from the pitying looks she always received after the older woman visited. And they did nothing. Kyoko whimpered. She could not be angry at them. They provided her with a great many of things already. She wasn't one of them. She wasn't family. They weren't her's, as much as she wanted them to be.

The woods blurring passed her brightened as it became less dense. Finally clearing, she came upon a stream. The figure of a young boy laying beside it shifted as he stood up to look at her.

"Corn!"

Ren stared in shock at tiny being on his chest. Its face had the same expression as it gazed up at him. Slowly, the shock melted away as he took in the features of the tiny thing. That familiar expression, that undeniably familiar face. As the miniature being, quite literally, shook off its shock and performed a dogeza, apologizing profusely, Ren finally made the connection he needed.

"Kyoko?"

The thing looked up, surprised. "Wait, you can see me?"

He nodded slowly in confirmation. The thing stuttered out another apology and promptly removed itself from his person. He stood, brushing the dust of his clothing as he regarded the flying being that floated in front of him.

"What are you?" he asked, incredulously.

"I'm a grudge demon," it piped up, helpfully. "More specifically, Kyoko's. I guess I'm...part of her?"

"Kyok―Mogami-san?" he corrected himself.

It nodded.

"What are you doing here?" he looked around curiously, almost expecting Kyoko to pop out of nowhere.

"I... got lost," it admitted, sheepishly.

He nodded in understanding. Another thought occurred to him. "Why are you in my dressing room?"

It averted its gaze shamefully. "I was trying to hide."

"Hide?"

A mere nod in reply. It seemed upset.

"Are you okay?"

"Ye―" it cut off abruptly as voices could be heard just outside his dressing room. He watched its eyes widen in fear as it dashed through the air to burrow in his pocket.

The voice drew a reaction from Ren too. He'd only heard it once, but he made it a point to remember anyone who threatened Kyoko. Stalker-san. He felt his ire rising. He could feel the mini Kyoko shivering in his shirt pocket. Smothering his anger, he gently reached in and took it out. It looked up at him from the palm of his hand, fear still evident in its eyes.

"It's alright. It sounds like he was just passing by."

It glanced over its shoulder at the door.

"Don't you trust me." He wanted it too. It really did look exactly like Kyoko. And if it was telling the truth it was part of her.

Its eyes snapped back up to his face. It hesitated before nodding and flew off his palm to float in front of him.

"That's why I wanted to hide in here," it admitted. "He's terrified of you."

Ren couldn't help the warmth that enveloped him with the thought that Kyoko believed she could depend on him. He thought darkly of the stalker. He was terrified of him? Well, he had good reason to be. He glanced at the clock on his wall.

"I've got quite a bit of time before I have to be on set." he stated taking a seat and gesturing for it to do the same. "Would you care to explain the situation to me?"

It set itself down on his armrest. He smiled wryly at the oddness of the situation. Kyoko never failed to surprise him.

"It's a long story," it warned him.

"We've got time."

A/N: I know most of this was just flashback. But the vague nature of Kyoko's past will need to be clearer for this to go the way I want it to. Also, I happen to like the flashback. The next chapter will also start with the flashback that follows the events introduced by this one.

Thank you so much, as always, for reading.

On to the next!

Until next time friendlies,

Dfsemina