A/N: Hello, all! Wow! I was so impressed by the response to this story! Thank you very much to everyone who favourited and/or followed, and especially to Saya, evilteddybear, skyeza, Matelia-legwll, Tenebris Domina, CamogianGrl, booklover321, ddfpstw, ncisduckie, Kumioko, Natsu Heel and the mysterious anonymous guests who left reviews. You guys (sort of) literally give life to this story! I'm really sorry for the long wait! I wrote chapter one ages ago, lost interest in Skip Beat, then unearthed it on my laptop and decided to publish anyway. Without your support, I would never had continued this story, so thank you! I plan to write at least a couple more chapters, but thought I'd better publish this quick to show you I'm still alive/thinking on Setsu.
"Yashiro-san! This is Mogami Kyoko."
"Ah, yes. Kyoko-chan!" Act surprised, Yuki. No need to let her know her number's on speed dial. "How can I help you? I'm afraid Ren is working right now, but I can pass on a message if you like?"
There was a pause over the line, long enough for him to wonder whether the connection had broken.
"No, that's all right. Lory-sama asked me to give him the message myself. I tried calling him earlier, but he didn't answer."
Yashiro swallowed, thinking of the fate of Ren's phone. He'd thought he'd spill with his phone as leverage. Unfortunately, that man just would not break.
"Sorry, Kyoko-chan. That may have been my fault. I… accidentally… well, I broke Ren's phone this morning."
"Ah, the curse?"
Kyoko was always wonderfully understanding about such things, for some reason.
"That's right," he lied.
"Oh, well. It can't be helped. Perhaps if I visit the set? Would that be all right, Yashiro-san? Lory-sama said it was very urgent."
Yashiro glanced slyly over at his charge. He had been acting strangely this morning, distracted, almost dazed. He had his theories, but seeing them together would certainly confirm or deny them.
"That's fine, Kyoko-chan. As long as you have time, of course."
She hummed agreement and hung up, leaving him to tingle in anticipation.
Kyoko had a dilemma. She needed to speak to Ren, the President had been very clear about that. He'd said he needed to talk to both of them, though he refused to tell her why. He'd also said he'd been unable to get through to Ren, Yashiro's technology curse explained that, at least. So now it was up to her.
Kyoko bit her lip.
She could try calling again, of course. If she timed it right, she might catch Ren on a break. That would be hopelessly optimistic, of course – who knew when he'd next be free? She could ask Yashiro to get Ren to call her back, but the President hadn't seemed to want to involve him, for some reason. This left the option of visiting the set herself.
Normally, she wouldn't hesitate. As a member of the cast she could come and go as she pleased, after all.
Unfortunately, she had been Setsu last night and was due to be Setsu again this evening. Ten-san had called to say she was unwell, and since Kyoko had only planned to read scripts and do homework all day she hadn't bothered to change. She could change now and go to the set as herself. But that left the problem of what she would do later.
She was getting better at doing her own make-up, but she wasn't confident she could transform herself into Setsu completely on her own. And Ren needed Setsu.
She couldn't drag Ten-san from her sick-bed for something as inconsequential as this, could she?
Kyoko shuddered. No, that was not an option.
So that left going to the set as Setsu, or not at all.
Half an hour later, Kyoko stood hesitating outside the studio, trying to ignore the stares of passers-by.
She felt vulnerable and embarrassed, as she always did when she thought about her appearance as Setsu. Not to mention a little cold where the skin of her legs, stomach, chest and arms were exposed. Setsu, she thought, did not wear enough clothes.
Her stomach turned as she stared blankly at the doors to the studio. It had been bad enough being seen as Setsu by Ren and the President. She cringed at the thought of appearing before the majority of the cast and crew of Dark Moon, people she respected. If they realised who she was she might die to embarrassment. Not to mention what it would do to Ren's Cain Heel masquerade if word got out. She couldn't let that happen.
It was time to get into character.
Kyoko closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her shoulder dropped and her stance relaxed, leg bending and hip jutting out challengingly.
Setsu opened her eyes.
Hashimoto Daiki watched the girl across the street suspiciously.
As a security guard, he saw some strange things on a fairly regular basis. Rabid fangirls, for one. With Tsuruga-san in the building that was a distinct possibility.
Fangirls did not normally look like her, however.
Eventually the mystery girl sashayed over.
She didn't say anything and didn't wait for him to speak either. Instead, she produced a studio pass from somewhere on her person, laid it carelessly on the little sill of his booth and allowed her gaze to drift.
A passing group of teenagers nudged each other, whispering and gesticulating at her.
She narrowed her eyes.
They hurried on.
Daiki was impressed. As a man of few words himself, he could appreciate a non-verbal, non-physical smackdown.
As a token of his appreciation, he didn't comment, inspecting her pass instead.
He raised an eyebrow.
Mogami Kyoko's face smiled back at him from the pass.
Mogami Kyoko. Kyoko-chan, who sometimes offered to share her bento with him, always bowed whenever she passed and always thanked him with a sunny smile.
His eyes flicked to the girl surreptitiously.
As if sensing his gaze, grey eyes met his, staring back with cool indifference, lip curling slightly in scorn.
Daiki did not relent, studying her carefully.
His first thought, of course, was that the pass had been lost or loaned (strictly against studio policy). Such carelessness was unlike Kyoko-chan, however.
And as he looked at her, he could see Kyoko's cheekbones, nose and eyes emerging from the camouflage of the dramatic make-up and sneering expression.
He looked at the pass once more to be sure, then huffed and handed it back to her.
He didn't much care how Kyoko-chan chose to dress in her free time. It was not his job to speculate, and certainly not to gossip.
She smirked in triumph and threw him a mocking salute as he unlocked the door and buzzed her through.
Daiki just shook his head and returned to his newspaper.
Kids these days!