Strings Attached
by
dancingfingers
Disclaimer: I don't, under any circumstances, own Skip Beat! and its characters.
AN: This is a beta version. All (beta) credits goes to Roshelle Diall.
Chapter 2
Five years later
January 7, 2013
Two men walked into a fine Italian restaurant called Bambino. A man wearing a black formal suit adjusted his glasses with his right hand while the other hand held his suitcase. His grey eyes stole a glance to a man beside him. He was wearing a black shirt underneath a grey jacket with white slacks covering his long legs, looking gorgeous as usual. The man, Kuon Hizuri, knew that his manager, Yashiro Yukihito kept staring at him and prayed that the meeting had gone well. He sighed and muttered, "Yashiro-san..."
"I told you to call me Yukihito, Kuon."
Kuon suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he gave the older man a bright, gentleman smile. "Yukihito," he said in a low, husky voice. "Stop checking me out, I am not Kanae."
Yashiro blushed slightly. "I, uh, I just, um... Kuon, please focus in this meeting, okay? I don't want President to-"
"I know, I know. I'm a professional, remember?"
Yashiro sighed. As if he would buy it. "Fine," he grumbled as they were led into a private room.
Kuon slumped over his couch after putting down an empty glass on his coffee table. He had eaten a lot during the meeting about his newest commercial of a men's perfume line. He tried to stop, but the plump director kept talking and Kuon didn't feel like making conversation, so he took a little bite from each food. Unfortunately for him, the director kept talking and Kuon got annoyed as he was really, really tired and wanted to go home. Yashiro sent him a warning look but Kuon merely smiled his fake, polite smile and nodded along with the conversation, making Yashiro got more irritated at him. If Yashiro didn't threaten him with his precious cellphone in his gloved hand, Kuon wouldn't have had to make small talk while enduring his full stomach, no thanks to the talkative director.
He sighed.
Food always brought memories of her. He remembered every time she scolded him for skipping a meal. Kyoko would wiggle her index finger to him, frowning cutely as she lectured him about how important food was to his body. He only nodded and grinned innocently, obviously irritating her. She would snap at him and told him that she would cook for his dinner tonight, much to his pleasure.
Oh, how he loved teasing her and trapping her into inviting herself to his place.
Kuon stared up at the ceiling. "It's been 5 years, Kyoko." He sighed as he ran his fingers through his blonde locks. "Where are you? What was your real reason for leaving me? Did I do something wrong, Kyoko? Did you find someone else?" He felt a sudden pang in his chest as he thought about some man wrapping their filthy arms around his Kyoko. He wanted to punch that man, kill him and then lock Kyoko in his room forever so she would be his and his alone. He threw his glass on the wall. He didn't want to care anymore. So what if she left him? So what if she found someone else? It's not as if he loved her, right?
"Damn," he mumbled. How could he be in such denial? He loved her so much, dammit. God. How stupid he had been to let her go. How stupid he was to realize that after she's gone. How he missed her. Her beautiful face. Her golden eyes. Her rare, gorgeous smile. Her flustered face. Her hugs. Her kisses. Her-
He felt warm liquid on his cheeks. He was crying. "Kyoko... please come back to me." He buried his head to his hands and cried silently. "Please..."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A fifteen year old boy strode happily as he watched the blue sky above him. It was a clear blue without white, fluffy clouds and he could see the birds flying in groups up there. A summer breeze hit his face lightly and he savored the moment of this peacefulness as if it was his last.
Little did he know how right he was.
Kuon entered the empty elevator at his best friend Rick's apartment building. He brought his father's homemade meal with him since Rick loved this meal so much. He smiled brightly as he pictured Rick's face when he told him he got the job in the new drama! Rick was the one who was always beside him and supported him fully when the others looked down at him, comparing the young Kuon with his father, the infamous Kuu Hizuri. Rick even went as far as 'Giving them lessons' so they never bothered to bully his best friend anymore. Kuon thanked him – though he felt that Rick shouldn't have to do that, but the older guy smirked and tackled him on the ground, saying,
"You are a chicken! Fight like a man, Kuon! Make them listen!"
The elevator gave a 'ding' and the doors opened. Kuon stepped out and let his feet drag him to the door he knew by heart. He knocked lightly and then frowned.
"Where is he?"
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Didn't he tell Rick that he will visit him? He held the doorknob slightly and widened his eyes as the door opened. The room was dark and - what's that smell? He moved forward quietly, his hands searching for a light switch. Once he found it, he flicked the light on and a bright light filled the room.
"Rick?" he called tentatively. A sudden chill ran through his spine. What if Rick is in danger? What if some thieves barged in and hurt Rick while he slept? He shook his head at the thoughts, walking slowly towards the master bedroom. The strange smell got stronger and Kuon closed his nose with his right palm. He knocked at the door lightly.
"Rick? Are you there?"
Silence answered him.
"Rick, I'm coming in, okay?" He held his breath and turned the doorknob. The room was dark and the strange smell hit him. "Rick, you smell bad! Have you..." he mumbled as he switched the light on. "...sho..wered... RICK!" He ran to his best friend and gasped. So much blood.
"Rick! Wake up!"
Blood. Red. Everywhere.
"Rick! THIS IS A SICK JOKE! WAKE UP!"
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"RICK!" He yelled as he frantically lifted Rick's limp body to his. The blood seeped through the wound on his stomach, tainting his white shirt. Kuon desperately pressed his palm to the wound, hoping that it might help him.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
A pair of hazy green eyes snapped open and Kuon sat up abruptly. His damp bangs stuck on his sweaty forehead and he could feel his body trembling. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripped all over his cold body and he tried hard to breathe evenly. His heart hammering madly beneath his ribcage and Kuon was scared that his heart might jump out from his body. A sudden jolt of pain to his head made him groan, and Kuon realized that he had been drunk last night.
"A nightmare and hangover. Perfect, Kuon," he grumbled as he laid down slowly. "Just perfectly stupid." He grabbed the bottle of water he always kept on his nightstand, taking large gulps of the cool liquid, shaking the dream away from his mind.
It always happened whenever he got drunk, the memory of that day haunting him in his sleep. How long had it been? Nine years? No. Ten years? No, no. Twelve years. Twelve years of the endless nightmare. Twelve years of mourning over his best friend. Twelve years of realizing how bad of a best friend he was to Rick. He never knew. Never asked about his problems. He buried his head on his pillow.
"God..."
He took a peek at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 6.20 a.m. He grabbed his cell phone and sent a text to his manager, asking what, if anything was on the schedule today. Surprisingly, for once he wished he had a day off so he could get rid of the hangover and rest.
A light buzz greeted him. "Morning to you too, Kuon. You have the day off today. I think I already told you yesterday. Have a pleasant rest, okay? If you need something, just give me a call right away."
Kuon's tensed body relaxed slightly.
"Thank God."
Why was he here, again?
Kuon stood silently in front of the double wooden door that guarded Takarada Lory's private office. He raised his fist to knock but paused midway. Kuon sighed. If it were not for Lory's morning call to ask him to come, he would be at home and sleeping the whole day.
Oh, well.
He raised his fist again and ready to knock when–
- the door opened. Kuon blinked. Lory's aid, who Kyoko had fondly referred to as Sebastian, was wearing a black tailcoat and pale blue shirt tucked neatly in his black slacks. His shoes were shiny black. Sebastian tied his shoulder-length ebony hair into a small ponytail. But what made Kuon gape was his blood red eyes. He chuckled. If Yashiro didn't tell him about the manga, Kuroshitsuji, he wouldn't know what Sebastian was cosplaying.
Sebastian acted as Sebastian Michaelis, the demon-butler. He snorted inwardly. How appropriate.
"Hizuri-sama," he said as he bowed politely. "The President awaits.. Please follow me."
The mysterious, silent aid led him to an empty hallway where many expensive and exquisite paintings and sculptures were hanging. He followed Sebastian to the right, then left, and straight to huge, mahogany doors that led to Lory's office. Sebastian opened the door elegantly and bowed. "Lory-sama."
Lory, who held his phone onto his ear, nodded absently and dismissed him with a wave. Sebastian bowed again and stepped aside, letting Kuon to go inside. The young man nodded and smiled gratefully as Sebastian closed the door behind him and left.
"I'm sorry... No, no. I have a guest right now... No! Don't worry, it's my fault for calling you. Yes, I hope I could talk to her later. Send my love to her, okay? Yes. I miss you. When will you- Never mind. Okay. Bye." Lory hung up and straightened his posture in his seat – er, his throne.
'Don't tell me...' Kuon thought as he remembered something. He rolled his eyes as he stared at Lory's attire. A formal indigo suit, black eye patch on the right eye, his hand holding a black cane, and a pair of low heel shoes adorned his toes. 'Ciel Takarada, alright.'
"Come on, sit here." Lory shifted his long fingers through papers, folders, and envelopes on his desk. He pulled out a brown envelope with a royal crest glued in the back and handed it to a stoic Kuon. The actor snorted quietly as he opened the envelope. "I advise you to accept this."
His forest green orbs danced at the script in his hands. "I believe you could do romantic scenes," Lory murmured. Kuon raised his head and threw him an are-you-kidding-me look. Lory quirked his eyebrows. "Besides, what a lovely and breathtaking story this is: a man who waits for 100 years to fulfill his promise to his beloved..." He sighed dreamily.
His dark eyes twinkled as he went on and on and on about true love, while flower petals fluttered around him which was courtesy of his 'maids' and confetti rained around Kuon (also courtesy of the maids).
Kuon sighed. There was no way to escape the love monster.