Two days into Kyouko's voluntary shut-in, she and Jeannette, her sous chef who doubled as a housemate, lounged on the couch in the apartment above Le Goût du Vin, steadily working their way through Kyouko's collection of Hizuri Kuon films and television series.
"I have to admit, mon amie," Jeanette said, grabbing a handful from their shared bowl of popcorn, "he's terribly handsome."
The retired actress stared at her friend for a long moment, amber eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why the sudden admission?" Kyouko asked, shifting the popcorn to her arm of the couch and out of Jeanette's reach. "I've been saying for years he's a handsome, sweet man, and you've been disputing it for just as long, claiming he was a bastard and broke my heart when it was me who was completely horrible, running away and breaking both our hearts. Excluding from my twenty-fifth birthday on and me calling him names for not trusting me enough to tell me, letting me believe that fairies were real, yadda yadda."
Jeanette didn't look at Kyouko as she replied, "No reason."
"Jeanette, I've know you for fifteen years, spill it," the brunette demanded, "or I will burn your secret stash of romance novels."
It was the blonde's guilty pleasure to devour one of those trashy, formulaic novels before going to bed—Jeannette claimed they facilitated good dreams, and the former actress had a feeling she knew exactly what kind of "good dreams" they facilitated. Kyouko also knew exactly where the sous chef had hidden her hoard so Yuki wouldn't find them and inadvertently scar himself for life: under the kitchen sink in opaque plastic bags. Kyouko had found it when cleaning years ago, but had kept her mouth shut so far out of loyalty. However, Jeannette was up to something, or knew something pivotal, which made Kyouko feel somewhat justified using whatever leverage she had.
"Evil witch!" Jeannette accused, hands held protectively over her heart. "You wouldn't."
The amber eyed woman quirked a contrary brow, standing from the couch and making her way towards the kitchen. She never made idle threats, and Jeanette should've known that by now.
"I'll tell you, okay? Just—just leave the books alone!" she called frantically, half climbing over the back of the sofa to stop her roommate.
Kyouko smirked and plunked back onto the comfy sofa. "Spill, my fair lady."
"Both Hizuri senior and Hizuri junior were at the restaurant eating lunch yesterday." Jeannette hurriedly continued as Kyouko's expression shuttered, "Kuon didn't know you were just above his head the whole time. He and his father just ate lunch, talked a little, and left. Nothing else. I swear, Kyouko, he doesn't know." She seemed earnest with her blue eyes wide as saucers and hands wringing worriedly.
Kyouko didn't reply, just stared blankly at the television screen as reality stuttered to halt and threw her a sucker punch. Fifteen years of hiding and the one man who could make her go back (come back) to Japan had nearly found her, had been within a square mile. But by some stroke of luck or fate, he hadn't known and probably still didn't know. Was it just coincidence that he and Kuu had chosen Le Goût du Vin, or were the gods (or Kuu, because that man had his picture in the dictionary next to the word interfering) setting something into motion? Had Yuki seen either of his unknowing relatives or had one of the Hizuri men spotted her oblivious son? Kyouko had never told her pseudo-father whey she'd left Japan so abruptly, and he'd never pressed, though he had made his curiosity known. If Kuu had seen Yuki in the restaurant, then he would've realized nearly instantly the reason Kyouko had left behind Japan (Ren, Kuon) without so much as a backwards glance or regrets that she couldn't suppress entirely.
But even if Yuki hadn't been seen, had Kuu accidentally tipped Kuon off and meeting at the restaurant had been meant to prove that Kuu had known exactly where she was all along? Was she simply reading too much into it? It was possible that all these years of hiding had bred a strong sense of paranoia, especially when so many people she cared about were involved. If Yuki was discovered, if the tabloids discovered that she had a child, out of wedlock and with another prominent actor, and then fled the country, that would be disaster; a tragedy that would destroy everything Kyouko had worked towards. She didn't know how to go on if that happened, if her deepest fear came to life.
And even if, magically, everything did go right, did she even want to go back when she had such a content, quiet life here? She had been prepared to start dating again, hadn't she? Even tried to go out twice already after Yuki had no objections, though both had ended rather horribly. Her taste in men was, unfortunately, abysmal. Except for Ren. Ren had been the one good choice she'd ever made. Kuon, however—that remained to be seen.
Truthfully, though, Kyouko didn't know if she wanted to go back to Japan, back into acting, and though she wouldn't admit it: deep down, that uncertainty scared her. She was used to having a plan and four backup plans for everything, knowing what she wanted and exactly how to get it. But this—she hadn't planned for this. The only plan she had to return to Japan, which was a big if, was to go back and visit after her popularity had all but died, never to move back permanently. As of yet, Yuki was still a Japanese citizen as was Kyouko, but they could easily become French citizens if they so chose. They both had been living in France for more than five years, and Yuki had been born in Paris even. Within the next four years, however, Kyouko would have to begin discussing with Yuki what he wanted to do: whether he wanted to become a French citizen or stay a Japanese citizen. Her decision depended entirely on Yuki, as they had for over a decade now, and she had always assumed that Yuki would prefer to stay in France over moving to a country he had never seen outside of photographs. But if he knew—if he knew who his father was and who she had been, Yuki might want to go back. To see the culture and the places and the people who had shaped Kyouko.
Heavy burdens seem to be my poison now that love is off the table, the actress thought wistfully, giving her friend a small smile so Jeannette would understand that Kyouko wasn't upset or angry, just worried and thinking too much for her own good. She'd been doing that increasingly frequently now that Yuki was old enough to get in serious trouble, and with all the fights. Six in the last three years and he didn't think anything of it, aside from a bit of shame at getting caught and annoyance that he'd been involved at all, but Kyouko knew better. Jealousy was an ugly emotion that had hurt her far too many times for far too many years for far too little reasons. Her boy would have to be careful in the years to come, as the treatment shifted from physical harassment into attempts of humiliation and sabotage, especially with the genetics he had received. Kyouko wouldn't be surprised if her little black haired boy was wired to cause trouble somehow, despite the number of times she'd tried to get it through his thick skull to keep out of trouble. All the Hizuris she'd met, however, seemed to think trouble was their closest friend, even Julie who was originally a Swan.
But first things first. "Jeannette, did they see Yuki?"
"The Hizuris?" she asked, grabbing the bowl of popcorn and settling back on the couch to continue watching the movie. She paused thoughtfully. "I don't think so. I think Yuki had gone to the public pool with a few of his friends about an hour before that."
"That's good."
Sky blue eyes glanced at Kyouko. "Hizuri senior doesn't know, does he?"
"No one but you, Moko-san, and Mignon-san, may he rest in peace, and that's the way I want to keep it."
Over the past fifteen years, Kyouko had been corresponding and exchanging emails with her first friend and fellow actress Kotonami Kanae, whom the younger actress referred to affectionately as Moko-san, and no one was the wiser, except Hiou, Kanae's husband. If Kuon had known, he would've tried to coerce Kyouko's location out of Moko-san, and that would've ended in an perhaps an even bigger media fiasco than the last time he became enraged by a nosy paparazzo. But so far, Moko-san had kept Kyouko's secrets to herself and was still her closest confidant.
"Yuki will have to know eventually, Kyouko," Jeannette warned softly. "Sooner or later someone's going to comment about how much he looks like his father and it's going to nag at him until he figures it out, with or without you."
Kyouko scowled at the empty popcorn balanced on her friend's knee. "You think I haven't been telling myself the same thing ever since he was born? That the last thought before I go to sleep every night isn't how am I going to tell him or will he hate me for not telling him sooner? But it's not safe, Jeannette," she insisted, gesturing so wildly with her hands that the popcorn bowl was knocked off its perch. "At this age, he's liable to go looking for his father without listening to why that's a horrible idea."
"I know that," the other chef said gently, placing a calming hand over Kyouko's faintly trembling one. "But when he matures, you know what you have to do."
Kyouko snorted softly, rubbing at her eyes with one hand as the other clutched at Jeanette's for some sort of lifeline to normality. "If he matures, mon amie. If."
Jeanette laughed, giving Kyouko's hand one last squeeze before going to refill the popcorn bowl. Everything was back to normal, or as close to normal as her life ever seemed to get, and while Kyouko hoped things would stay that way, she really doubted it would. She hadn't lived thirty-five years and learned nothing for it.
Yuki shuffled his feet, indecisive. He'd told his classmate Mirabelle Adler yes during a passing period, but he serious had doubts about his acting ability. Sure, he'd been pursued to play main roles before, but he always declined because he'd never really wanted to act before, especially not in some millionth rendition of a story older than most governments. But this was a chance to act out one of his favorite novels, even if he'd deny it unto his last breath, which was an award-winning modern classic. Not to mention it was one of his mother's favorites too, if how often she read (and usually on the bad days) was any indication, and perhaps seeing it would cheer her up. She'd been depressed lately and that wasn't like her. The mother he knew was always bubbly and more prone to laughter than to tears, but lately she'd been seeming… almost fragile. Delicate, frail, and things he had never associated with the strong, independent woman who had raised him for fourteen-almost-fifteen years before a few days ago. It felt wrong to think of her as vulnerable.
Yuki growled and roughed his hair in frustration because it didn't make sense. Everything had been fine: he hadn't gotten into a fight in over three months, his grades were as good as always, the restaurant was doing great as usual, and his mother was finally approaching the dating market again. The last had been a little weird at first, but that woman needed someone to rely on besides him and Jeannette because neither of them would be around forever, or even most of the time. Not to mention that amber-eyed idiot worked herself to near death whenever someone wasn't keeping an eye out to make sure she didn't. Did she even realize how many people she worried when she refused to take vacation days? That baka was always causing a stir, whether she realized it or not.
Yuki's musings were interrupted as Mirabelle—barely taller than his mother with short auburn hair and ecstatic grey eyes—called to him from down the hall, waving his copy of the script in the air. The brunette girl had nearly fainted with glee when he'd agreed to be in the play, and had insisted he stayed after school to get a script instead of waiting until tomorrow when the rest of the drama group would get theirs.
"Here you are, Mignon," she said, handing him the thick script. Yuki estimated it was between 80 and 90 pages, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to memorize even half of that, and his character was in nearly all scenes. "We're performing chapters ten through nineteen, since we're only allowed three scenes per act." The girl smile turned relieved. "For agreeing to play Kyo, thanks. It will really help in raising funds for the troupe."
The amber eyed boy smiled back, though carefully kept it small so as not to unintentionally encourage her. "It's not a problem. Maybe I'll even see if I can't get ma maman to let us eat free at Le Goût du Vin after the first performance." He winced as he glanced at his watch, waving to Mirabelle as he turned towards the front doors. "Sorry, I've got to get home. My mom will get worried if I'm not back by four."
"See you tomorrow then!" she called after him, waving enthusiastically. "And don't forget, the first practice is next Tuesday!"
Pausing in unlocking his bike, Yuki grinned and called back an affirmative as he strapped on his helmet. Stuffing his lock in his backpack, the teen set off for home.
Two weeks later, Kuon had just finished with his last scene for the day when his father decided to drag him to some rehearsal for excerpts from his book that one of Kuu's friends' adolescent drama group was going to put on in a few months. As usual, Kuon just sighed and asked for directions. One didn't argue and win with Hizuri Kuu when one was as apathetic as his son. More often than not lately, Kuon was having trouble motivating himself to simply get out of bed in the mornings, let alone go to work. Lory and Yashiro worried as did Kuon's parents, but there wasn't anything he could do to appease them at this point. He didn't want to date, to hang out with what few friends he had, or even leave his apartment most of the time. The fact he'd gone overseas for a location shoot was astounding and surprised him just as much as, if not more than, everyone else.
Maybe he really was stronger than his depression.
In Kuu's usual, boisterous manner, the older man shook Kuon out of his thoughts as they arrived at a small theater his friend Raoul Durepos owned in downtown Paris. The parking lot was nearly deserted but there were several bikes locked up near the double doors into the theater, as well as a few skateboards, which marked the visitors as part of the younger generation. The two men entered the theater quietly and nonchalantly, following the sound of voices to the stage and rehearsal. While the seating area was small, there were easily enough seats to fit two or three hundred people in the floor seats. There was a deserted balcony section above their heads that had an additional one or two hundred seats, and, according to Kuu, Durepos expected a full house for the first three nights.
Kuon could admit that his book was popular but he doubted that was the only attraction. Supposedly, the boy they had playing Kyo was famous for being what they'd called back in Japan a bishounen—a beautiful boy. As far as Kuon knew, Yuki Mignon wasn't actually a celebrity, but he had quite the fan base, according to the ever reliable Kuu who'd looked the fourteen year old up on the internet. Fan girls were scarily efficient when they were properly motivated.
The lights were all on over the stage, but the ones over the audience and along the aisle were off. The two Hizuris silently entered the last line of seats and sat in two plush seats towards the middle of the row. There a moment of elbowing as they arranged themselves in such close proximity, but they managed to sort it. Half way between the pair of actors and the stage was a dark haired man, watching the stage fixedly. On the large wooden platform were two actors, a girl and a boy, and Kuon recognized the scene immediately. It was the first time he'd ever been sick and what little he remembered of it. From their view point, he and Kuu couldn't see the young actor who played Kyo, but the actress who played "Rena" was a pretty brunette with honey-brown eyes, and seemed to be a few inches taller than Kyouko had been.
"You know, Kuon, before your mother and I read your book, we didn't know about this little incident," Kuu mentioned off-handedly.
The younger blonde shrugged. "I guess no one thought it was important enough to mention."
The brown eyed man glowered at his blue eyed son for a moment before turning his eyes back to the stage just in time for the male protagonist to reveal himself. The young man was 5'7" or 5'8" with messily trimmed black hair and discordantly familiar amber eyes. It took a few moments for Kuu to comprehend what, exactly, he was seeing, but once his brain processed it, the veteran actor turned to his companion.
"Anything you want to share, son?"
"I was about to ask you that," Kuon shot back hotly, then winced. "I mean, I know your faithful to Kaa-san beyond a doubt, but you weren't always married to her…."
The father glared at his son and the blue eyed man shrugged. "Well, he's not mine. If he was, the mother would've come looking for money to take care of him and to keep it out of the media." Kuon wasn't even thinking as he continued, "Unless, of course, he's—" The actor stopped himself short, staring at the boy on stage. He looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, and that, that timeline was startlingly easily to formulate in his head, but. But that couldn't be.
It just wasn't possible.
She would've told him, wouldn't she? And he was pretty sure he would've remembered engaging in the process needed to make a child. Even if she'd been pregnant during that time, why had she left? Everyone she'd ever known, except for Kuon's parents, were in Japan. Wouldn't it have been better to stay where all her friends were so they could support her? Sure, it would've been hell in a hand basket to keep that sort of a scandal out of the press, but life was full of sacrifice and the press would've found a new story within a week. Besides, that woman probably had a thousand other reasons to leave, Kuon thought bitterly. He wasn't exactly a catch—especially not after his past came out. He was a workaholic, an alcoholic recently, and could express his feelings about as well as a wild chimpanzee could fly an airplane. He wasn't anything to write home about unless she wanted a celebrity steppingstone.
Kuu didn't bother asking his son to finish his sentence. He knew what the younger man had been about to say: unless he's Kyouko's. That woman wouldn't have asked for a penny from anyone and if she had been given money forcefully, she'd do her best to pay it back with interest. But, damn, she was something. For the last fifteen years, he'd visited her off and on at her restaurant, at her home, but he hadn't seen even the slightest hint of a child. No diapers, no toys everywhere, and certainly no little boy who bore a striking resemblance to him and his son.
As soon as he and Kuon went their separate ways, Kuu would call Kyouko. Not only was he going to reprimand her for not telling him, he was going to demand not only to meet the boy, but for her to introduce the boy to his father too. Kuon had a right to at least meet the child who shared half his DNA, even if he hadn't helped raised the boy. Heck, he hadn't known the child, Yuki, existed until a few moments ago.
Both Hizuris were so deep in thought that when Durepos called the rehearsal to an end, they startled, knocking together knees and elbows. The actors on stage exchanged tired smiles and compliments while other members of the troupe wheeled the props off stage. The leader of the troupe greeted the two acting stars excited, and asked how they think the young actors did. Both actors responded truthfully for the most part, and Kuon asked about the leading man.
"Ah, yes, Yuki," Durepos said, glancing towards backstage. "Some of our members go to school with him and since none of our young men wanted the role and all the girls are gaga over him, our leading lady asked Mirabelle—our resident lighting director—to ask him. I was surprised he actually agreed to it. He's always rejected all offers before, most likely because he's always helping out at the family restaurant or at a swim meet." The green eyed man shrugged. "I think he mostly says no because while he's got some talent, it's not something he really likes. It might have something to do with his mom, though. I heard him mentioning something about her acting strangely and depressed to one of the other actors, and wanting to cheer her up."
Kuu had a fairly good idea why Kyouko, if Yuki was indeed her son, would be acting strangely. She was used to having Kuon hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away, and now he was within city limits. That would be a shock to anyone's system. It might've been a good thing they were leaving in a week, but he couldn't say he regretted coming and finding out he had such a handsome grandchild. Now if only Kuon and Kyouko could make up and give him another one. One that he could actually watch grow up and become the loving bane of its existence.
"Either way he's got talent," Kuon said absently as he mulled over the information he'd been given. "He could go far if he found a passion for acting."
Durepos just shrugged. "He's a good kid, but I don't think he wants to go into entertainment. I've heard a rumor he's going to take over the restaurant his mom runs, but, really, who knows? Yuki seems like a bright kid, and his mom seems to love him enough that he doesn't need to do anything he doesn't want."
The Hizuris exchanged glances. That certainly sounded like the Kyouko they knew, but could this boy really be her son? The odds were a million to one at least, even with the undeniable likeness to members of acting royalty. It could've just been the gods' idea of a cruel joke to make an almost exact replica of Kuon, just so he could see what his offspring might've looked like if Kyouko had stayed in Japan, and they had shared a life together.
For all the things he'd done, Kuon thought maybe he deserved it.