Strings Attached
by
dancingfingers
First, I want to say I'm truly sorry for the long gap between this chapter and the previous. Well, not that long (I know authors who hadn't updated since months or years ago. No offense, okay? *smile*), and I had told you that I wouldn't be back until August. I don't break my promise, right? RIGHT?
Second, all thanks to all the followers, the readers; both who kindly left reviews AND also the silent readers, the fans (I can't possibly call you the favoriters, hm? I don't even think it's a word. LOL), and mostly to my beta-readers, Roshelle Diall and regulusgal. Please check their works too!
Ready yourself, dear, this one is long!
Chapter 11
February 2, 2013
Jakarta, Indonesia
"I need to go now," the girl exclaimed, rising from her seat on the lush green grass.
He grabbed her wrist immediately. "Wait!" He gulped and smiled sheepishly at her stunned expression. "Het spijt me – I'm sorry," he said softly as he realized his sudden outburst. "I hope you won't think badly of me. I just want to get to know you. Would you mind if we became friends?"
She gaped at him, totally caught off-guard by his request. "Mijnheer wants to befriend me?" She stared at him as if he'd grown another head. The idea itself was ridiculous for her. She was a mere peasant, while he was... Her expressive dark eyes traveled to the man before her. He was tall, taller than any Dutchmen she'd seen. His blonde hair was tied into a low ponytail, while his bangs swept to the side, covering one of his beautiful blue eyes. His well-defined upper body was hidden underneath a long-sleeved white shirt with a stiff collar around his neck, completed by a black vest that only emphasized his chest. Looking down, the broad chest narrowed to his hips and her eyes widened at his long legs that seemed to go forever, and ended with a pair of black riding shoes adorning his toes.
She sighed inwardly. Of course he was a noble. No Dutch people with lower status lived here. She almost laughed at him for this ludicrous idea. Why, of all people, he wanted to befriend her? Didn't he know that it was ludicrous, totally unthinkable, and forbidden because his status was way higher than her? That his people ruled the country that actually belonged to her people? Should it not make it seem so... silly?
He replied with a curt nod. He could understand the look of disbelief on her face. She probably thought he had gone insane. Yet he didn't care. He had to know her name, even though he always agreed with Shakespeare's infamous words – "What's in a name?" Yes, he nodded to himself, what's in a name? It wouldn't make her attractiveness vanished into thin air, whatever name she had, right?
His train of thought halted as she asked in a small voice. "Why?"
"Omdat – because..." He trailed off, not entirely sure how to answer her simple question. He tilted his head slightly and frowned. Why did he need so badly to know her? Was that all he wanted from her? To befriend her? Or was it because of her beautiful eyes stirring unknown emotions inside his heart, making him all fuzzy and warm?
"Because this is our third time meeting," he argued lamely, mentally kicking himself because of his own stupidity. "... and three is a lucky number?" He offered, grinning uncertainly at her.
"I prefer four," she retorted quickly, her steps didn't falter at all as she made her way through the forest. "... since even number can be divided easily."
"Nou, then I like four too," he replied. Now he trailed after her faster, as her little feet brought her away from him quicker than he thought. He was almost desperate when he called her retreating back. "Hey, wait! Wouldn't you tell me your name after I told you I like the number four too? Don't you believe me? Listen, I even willing to swear to God that I really, really like the number four wholeheartedly, just like you do."
She giggled then, a pleasant sound like a chimed bell he couldn't help but smile. He could see her twin braids dancing gently behind her back as her shoulder shook from her giggles. He nearly collided with her as she abruptly turned around to him, her eyes full of mirth. She gestured to him to hold out his hand, which he complied silently. He watched in astonishment as she threw some small, white flowers from her hair into his palms. He lifted his blue eyes at her, not sure of what she was trying to tell him.
"Perhaps, in our fourth meeting, Mijnheer would be luckier at guessing my name. These flowers will be your first clue," she mumbled softly before she turned around and quickly disappeared through the dense woods.
He was silent as he stared at the small flowers in his hands. He raised his hands slowly and sniffed at them. It was a flower he'd never seen before, yet the fragrance was slightly familiar. He averted his gaze to the trees before him and smiled. He would have her name in their fourth meeting, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"It still amazes me to hear your perfect accent," the director noted in awe to Kuon who was standing oddly silent beside him as they – the director, Kuon, and Maya – checked the final take from the last scene. "Are you sure you're not a Dutch?"
Kuon smiled a little, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Everyone can learn the accent, not just me. Maya," he said, tilting his head to the said actress who perked up as she heard her name, "is also doing well with her Dutch. I thought she lived here for a moment when I saw her. You're a good actress, Maya."
Maya blushed at the compliment. "Thank you," she said in a small voice, ducking her head in embarrassment.
'He did it again,' Yashiro noted dryly. He was used to his co-star killer act; praising the poor female lead with his gentleman smile and genuine words in front of everyone and was not really surprised to see the envy look on the other women's face and astonished look on the men's face at the set. He focused his attention back to the three figures and listened to their conversation.
" – think we should do one more scene today before wrapping it up while the sky is still clear and we have enough time."
The dark-haired actress nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea. Who knows tomorrow will be raining hard? We should grab any chance to do it efficiently while the weather is good today!"
"Hmm. Is it always like this in February?" Kuon asked out of the blue.
Maya quirked her eyebrow. "Like this? What do you mean?"
"This," he said, his long hands waved gracefully. "One day it rains, one day it is cloudy, one day it is sunny and then the next day there will be flood everywhere... Is it always like this?"
"Well... In the past, February is not this bad. We used to have sunny days more than rainy days this month, since the rainy season ends in January," she replied. "However, several years ago, everything changed. The rainy days stay longer, and you might find days when the morning is warm and sunny, then the next minute you soak in the rain. This year is worse than the last year. We have flood almost everywhere. Thank God my house is one of the few places that aren't flooded." She shrugged then, a frown marred her smooth forehead. "Perhaps it is because of this 'global warming' thing."
"I see," he said thoughtfully. He'd experienced this weird change of the weather ever since he'd come to Jakarta. The first night he had spent in his hotel room, he had noticed the way the wind blew strongly, sending the branches dancing with the wind, and tapping the windows of its intensity. Ah. "The wind too?"
"The wind?"
"Is it always strong?"
The director, who was silent throughout this sudden change of conversation, answered Kuon's query. "There is a belief that when the Lunar New Year comes near, the wind blows strongly to repel the evil*, Hizuri. The New Year will be celebrated this month, that's why the wind is strong."
Maya grinned. "Yes! Yes! Even though I don't actually believe it, it is always like this every year!"
"This country is interesting," Kuon said with a smile.
"Yes, yes... but it will interest me more if you will go change your clothes and prepare for the next scene," the director remarked, trying to sound stern towards his actors. "Now, off you go!"
Yashiro stepped forward to his charge and handed the cold mineral water for Kuon. He smiled gratefully at the older man and then drank it. The sun cast its deadly glare at those who stood and wandered beneath it today, including Kuon. With a slight nudge on his ribs from Yashiro, Kuon obediently headed towards his 'dressing room' and closed the door behind him as he entered.
As he settled on the chair in front of the mirror, his calm and collected mask dropped, revealing a pained and troubled expression on his handsome face. The last scene he had performed was almost the last straw for him; for it reminded him about those same events seven years ago. He was still young and mischievous, a bit of ladies' man at that time. Not really surprising since he was one rare male species among the Japanese. His golden locks and deep forest green eyes stood out in the same, common chocolate brown and onyx eyes of Asian. Women threw themselves to him again and again. He'd done his share of dating, yet he hadn't been able to find the one that made him feel right, content, and complete.
Until he had met one, rare female named Mogami Kyoko.
He recalled the first time he had seen her. She had been surrounded by men in their university, trying to get her attention and asking for a date with them. Kyoko, as he'd observed in the shadow, had seemed very annoyed at the men who hadn't got that she'd had enough and rejected them all. Instead, they had kept pushing her to her wits end, until she had punched the man before her on the jaw.
"Jerk,"she had said icily before turning around to head to her class.
He had never seen a woman that feisty after living with his own feisty mother for years.
He had been intrigued.
Since then, his eyes followed her everywhere, admiring her beauty. He found his fingers twitched every time he watched at the long, black curtain of her hair dancing with the wind as she walked gracefully from one class to another. Her body, oh her body, it was slender and delicate, with curves on the right places... He'd always wondered if her body would fit to him if only – and if only he had a chance to engulf her petite body in his arms. Her legs were long and shaped nicely, and he had chuckled to himself when he had learned that she was a model under the stage name "Setsuka Heel", the one he'd wanted to work with one day, way before he had even known about her. No wonder, with those beautiful legs, she would give his mother a run for her money.
Aside from that, the one feature that dazzled him the most was...
Her golden eyes.
Framed by her thick eyelashes, two golden orbs shone brilliantly whenever he caught her reading a particular book in the library – an old book by the Grimm Brothers, very different with the usual bored and dull look in her eyes. He had felt triumphant at that day to find those mesmerizing, sparkling golden eyes and wondered if she'd ever looked at him like that.
At first, those eyes had never looked at his way when he had confronted her with all smiles and charms he had. Too bad she had even wanted to look at him, instead the women in the same room swooned by his charming smile. He'd barely got out from the chaos and chased after her, introducing himself, despite of her indifference towards him.
"My name is Kuon. Kuon Hizuri."
Her walking stopped abruptly. "What?"
Kuon smiled. At least she responded to him. "My name is Kuon Hizuri."
"K-K-Kuon?" she stammered, surprising him. His eyes still dumbly wide when she trapped him in the golden prison in her eyes. "Kuon... Hizuri?"
He blinked then, trying to brush off any spell that came from this woman. He was so surprised to see her stammered, hell, she turned to look at him too, for the first time! He was so not forgetting this day.
"Yes?"
The golden-eyed girl put on her usual indifferent mask and started to walk off. "Nothing."
Kuon quickly fell into step beside her. "You seemed surprised."
"I'm not."
"What's wrong with my name?"
"Nothing."
"Then why?"
"I said..." she said through her gritted teeth. "...nothing."
Kuon frowned and decided to change the subject... a bit. "Then what's your name?" He asked softly. He snapped his mouth shut as she glared at him and bit out harshly with her answer.
"You don't know me, do you? Or, you pretend to not know me, hm?"
He was beyond perplexed. What the heck? "I don't know who you are, and if I do, I will not chase you like this to get your name."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Really?"
He nodded.
"Bye."
The blond blinked again as he watched the only woman he desired to know, to truly know inside and outside, ran quickly from his side before he had a chance to go after her.
It didn't matter, though, since he was not one to give up on something he wanted.
He would have her name in the end of the week, no matter what.
Kuon shook his head and clenched his eyes tight, while he let the bittersweet feeling of reminiscing the good ol' days rushed through his blood, occupying his mind and tightening the chains in his old Kuon soul. Taking a deep breath, his body relaxed and he began to undress.
As he unzipped his pants, small, pure white Jasmine fell from his pocket. His green eyes watched as the crushed petals met their fate on the ground, and he couldn't help but compare the flower to another broken flower he knew.
Kyoko.
She was pure andinnocent, and it made Kuon adore her more; he'd never known a woman in his life as innocent as her. She was so kind and caring, and he had often endured her nagging of his bad eating habit in amusement. No one had ever dared to scold him, not even Yashiro, his only best friend and succeeded to force him to eat three times a day.
His smile faded as the thought of a certain evil woman passed through his mind.
Saena.
A typical evil step-mother in the fairytales. The same woman who had tormented Kyoko for her whole life. The same woman who had tainted her purity and forced her to face the harsh life when she had sold Kyoko's body for money.
Kuon shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, pushing off the past memories to the very back of his head. He needed to get to work soon, and worked himself to the fullest.
He was Kuon Hizuri, the top actor in Japan, and he was a professional.
On the other side of Jakarta, where a small forest in the middle of this big city laid, an old-fashioned restaurant stood proudly across the woods. The restaurant was older than this country's age and still attracted many customers to just sit down and enjoy the traditional food of NetherlandS and Indonesia. Its walls were painted in white, with jade green lining its edges. The windows were not made from glass, instead they were made from woods, with narrow vents that allowed the wind blowing raspberries into the building. The chairs, one of the many fascinations to the old-fashion architecture lovers, were made from rattan plaited artfully into interconnected circles and braids. A single cushions wrapped in silk-made batik completed the look and brought comfort to the customers, making them more relaxed in the small piece of heaven here, forgetting the hustle-bustle of the capital and the stress it brought. The table rested in the middle of the chairs, made from the teak wood and shaped into a perfect circle, which was supported by four table legs. The only modern thingsin this restaurant were half of the kitchen wares and the LED television which showed the national and foreign channels.
Figures of two women and a child were sitting at the table at the restaurant's foyer, happily munching their own meal and occasionally stopped to talk to each other and laugh at the other's jokes or their antics. Their appearance, although it was obvious that they were foreigners in this country, were a common look in this restaurant. The place was infamous among the tourists, mostly Dutch and several people from other countries, and the last, also the fewest of all, was the locals.
The raven-haired woman with golden eyes watched in amusement at the little girl with the same black hair, only with a pair of eyes that were a brilliant shade of emerald green with golden lines on the rim, as the girl spoke animatedly at the women. The other woman, with auburn hair and warm brown eyes, smiled warmly at the two, although her eyes momentarily stranded to another direction with wary gaze. Her casual attire, which consisted of a white tank top underneath a red cardigan and faded blue jeans, was unusual for the woman who constantly wore her black suit for her job as a bodyguard. She was staring at the small crowd across from the restaurant, near the edge of the forest when the child's voice snapped her back to the present. "Yes?"
The girl huffed. "You didn't listen!"
"Ah, sorry," she said as she smiled apologetically at the emerald-eyed girl. "What were you saying?"
Her small lips pursed tightly and dodged her question. "What are you looking at, Shio-chan?"
"Eh?" 'Shio-chan' blinked owlishly at the girl, and then cleared her throat in realization. "Ah, that small crowd there, Sachiko."
The other two females turned around to the direction she pointed. True, there was a small crowd of people with white, red, or black t-shirts and jeans with 'From Batavia with Love'written on the right chest and the back. Several men were setting up cameras and lighting, while the several women with black bag fussed over the other men and women with different attires, brushing their hair and smoothing the unseen wrinkles on their clothes. Some were standing on guard, just at the edge of another small crowd that began to form when the people around recognized the writing on their clothes.
The golden-eyed woman smiled softly at the sight that brought pleasant memories of her past. She had been, after all, once a famous model under the management of LME, one of the two biggest agencies in Japan (the other was Akatoki). To this day, she still felt her blood rushed in excitement whenever she saw a fashion channel on the TV and wondered whether she would have another chance to walk the runway again or perhaps, travel to the other side of Tokyo to have a photo shoot. She also had her spare of acting as a main star on music PVs or commercial films. Acting was not a new thing for her, since she'd been practically acting her whole life – her whole horrid past life, even going so far to hide her true identity as Mogami Kyoko and known as Setsuka Heel, a Japanese-English blonde and icy grey eyes woman, for various reasons.
"What is that?" the girl asked curiously, tugging Kyoko's hand slightly.
Kyoko smiled. "Um, I think they're going to be shooting a movie."
"Movie?"
"Yes, Sachiko," she replied. "See the letters on their shirt?" When Sachiko nodded, she continued her explanation. "If I recall correctly, the movie is an international project. The main actress is Maya – "
Sachiko clapped her hands together excitedly as she interrupted her mother. "Oh! I know that pretty lady!"
Kyoko chuckled. "Sure you do. Anyway, since it is an international project, most scenes will be taken here in Jakarta and Bogor, while a little part of the movie will be taken in the Netherlands."
The auburn-haired woman averted her attention from the crowd back to her charge. "Why the Netherlands?"
Kyoko tapped her index finger on her lips as she thought about it. "Hmm... I think it is because it is a historical movie or something. I don't remember much... I was too busy to update myself on entertainment news. These past months were a living hell to me... and that dear boss dared leaving me to go to Tokyo!" she ended with an annoyed huff.
"Okaa-san, Okaa-san!"
"Hm?"
"Who's the actor?"
Kyoko furrowed her brows as she tried to remember. She couldn't recall a name or a face when she read about the movie article in tabloid that day... or maybe she failed to finish the article when Shoko called her for the meeting. "I don't know, Sachiko, but I am sure he is a great actor to be able to act in this movie!" She then diverted her daughter's attention to her forgotten meal. "Finish your meal, little one, and I will take you to SeaWorld after this."
"Really, Okaa-san?" Sachiko shouted, her tiny feet bouncing up and down in excitement.
Kyoko laughed. "Of course. It is both my apology for waking you up last night and thanks for chasing away my nightmare." She shot a playful wink to the girl who blushed at her mother's subtle compliment. She was happy that she could do something to make her mother happy at once, and even chased the bad monster in her dream! Sachiko patted herself on the back for accomplishing such a mission and was in glee that she would get her reward after this. The three then went back to their meal and ate in contentment.
Honda sat down on one of the couches, and rubbed his tired eyes. He had been woken from his light slumber last night when he had heard his charge, Kyoko, screamed in pain. At that moment, he had immediately jumped from his bed and run to the one door adjoining his and Mogamis' room, grabbing his gun in the process. He had glided as silent as a cat, gazing warily at the darkened room, and nearly jumped when Sachiko's door opened, revealing the little girl's frightened expression. He had been going to stop her but Sachiko had been running too fast. Honda had quickly followed after the little girl, and had been relieved when he peeked through the slight ajar door that Kyoko had been alone with Sachiko, and no one else.
From what he'd gathered last night, she had had a quite shock from that damn package and it made her frightened and disoriented. With her own daughter standing in front of her she had failed to recognize Sachiko for a moment until she had regained herself seconds later. His heart had gone out to her tough determination much like her mother's was clearly on the girl's face albeit her emerald green eyes had been glistening with her unshed tears. The two then had had a hushed conversation. He couldn't hear anything, even though he was quite certain Kyoko had apologized and thanked the girl silently, managing to smile despite the turmoil of her feelings. Hondahad decided that all had been well inside Kyoko's bedroom, then walked around the suite to ensure no one still tried to endangering his charge's life...
Which then brought him to this current situation.
His dark eyes stared at another man inside the room, the other member of 'bodyguard team' Lory sent to Jakarta, to assist and keep Kyoko and her daughter from danger. Honda snorted at that. They could hardly be called just bodyguards. They could act as assassins too if needed. He didn't know whether The Boss, Takarada Lory, knew about this or not, but they would be ready if he or that young Fuwa heir asked them to.
"Hey, Honda. Come here, quick."
Honda's eyes widened at the alarming tone from his friend. He quickly stood up and settled beside Tanaka Hajime. His friend's body was leaning over the hand, examining the appendage closely. "Honda, you knew that this is fake, right?" He asked, pointing at the hand.
"Hmm. I thought so at first, because I didn't smell anything from it. Still, it looked so real to me and Kyoko-san."
Hajime nodded. "I understand. Actually, this kind of art is not new; Madam Tussaud had done it from a very long time ago."
"Wax..."
"Mm-hm. The maker did a great job at it." He lifted the hand right before his eyes and shook his head in amazement. "Kyoko-san must have taken it very hard, I presume?"
Honda gave him a grim smile. 'That was putting it lightly.'
Hajime hummed. "It might have triggered something from Kyoko-san's memories and frightened her to the point where she would be disoriented." He reached for something on the pale fingers, carefully lifting it. When he held up his hand with the thing, Honda narrowed his eyes in thought. "I should call her."
"Right. Let me clean this first."
"Come on, let's go," Kyoko said, pulling Sachiko's hand to help her stand.
Sachiko pouted. "But I want to see who the actor is!"
"We can see it in internet later."
The raven-haired girl stomped her foot. "No! I want to know, now! I want to see if he is... he is... suit-ble to Maya-chan!"
Kyoko bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Behind her, Shiori giggled quietly. 'My beautiful innocent daughter. I should do a better job and stop her from watching those silly dramas on TV...' Kyoko thought.
When her mother didn't say anything, Sachiko sat back to her seat and waited, followed by the still laughing women. Fortunately for the girl, it seemed that they didn't need to wait any longer. Two figures walked out from the tents to the set, still too far away to see who they were. She stood at her seat, ignoring the faint scolding from her mother and tiptoed, trying her best to watch more.
Kyoko narrowed her eyes in concentration, hoping to get a better view from the distance and another small crowd that started to form near the movie set. She was lucky for she had a clear view from her seat, and so, sending her thanks to Kami above, she tried her best to recognize the first man who stepped closer to the set.
The first thing she noticed was his long, long legs. Kyoko had never seen any other actor who had two such healthy, long and toned legs like this mysterious man, save for Kuon. 'He must be very tall,' Kyoko mused, 'Just like him.' She watched as the man walked gracefully as if he was walking on runway exactly the way he walked. 'Maybe it's the only way a male model walks?' she thought, albeit she wasn't quite sure about it.
As she slowly looked up to his narrow hips and broad chest, Kyoko had very serious trouble breathing normally. She recognized those proportions. There was no way two people so alike could exist on this earth! However, the thought was quickly pushed to the back of her head when she recalled someone said that every human had seven people who looked alike.
She nodded to herself. 'It must be it.' She was convinced if Kuon was actually here, in Indonesia, Kanae would tell her beforehand, since Yashiro will go too with Kuon. 'So, it won't be Kuon. Yeah, it must be one of his look-alikes.'
Still, she had yet to believe her own statement as her heart and her mind screaming at her that it was indeed Kuon. He was here, right in front of her eyes, and she was very close to confirming it. Her eyes trailed higher and higher to his face, which he shielded with his large hand from the bright sunlight.
If only she could see those forest green eye –
Kyoko jumped slightly from her seat when her phone went off. She huffed.' I was so close!'
Kyoko grumbled inwardly as her thumb slid across the screen to answer.
It was Honda.
Her face changed from a look of irritation to serious as she listened to him intently, paying attention to his every word. She missed the loud huff from her daughter, and Shiori's wide eyes and wary glances she gave to Kyoko. She also failed to notice a man's presence not far from her.
As she finally ended the call, she heard a familiar voice softly call out her name. The sound of it made her whole body freeze while her heart hammered inside her chest to the point that it was the only thing she could hear pounding in her ears. As Kyoko slowly turned around, she saw them. Those eyes. Ones she never expected to see again so soon...
(*) I heard this from my mother. I tried to not believe it, convinced that the strong wind is a mere indication that we will go through dry season or something. As I grew older, I began to notice the pattern. Regardless of what season at that time, every time the Lunar New Year comes closer, the wind is very strong. Believe it or not...
The restaurant's image is taken from an ice-cream parlor in Surabaya or somewhere, I forget it (I watched it from a culinary program on TV), mixed with an old fashioned (not to mention a very old restaurant, because it is built at the same time when Dutch still ruled Indonesia) restaurant in my hometown, Malang. My cousin works there, and from what I learned in the last two years, all the staffs must wear Javanese traditional attire once a week. The best seller there is their ice-cream... well; at least that's what I heard. I never go there myself.
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And now... I'm going to continue sulking in my corner because my smartphone is going through its rebellion phase now (read: it stops working properly. OH DEAR)
-dee