A/N: All right, so I told a few of you readers that Sunday I would update the last chapter and epilogue of Chocolates. Sorry, but I decided that the last chapter's length was ungodly and no one should be forced to sit through it, and that I should split it into two updates. So I went through and edited it so it split nicely into two chapters, this being the first half of the original last chapter. Tomorrow I'll update the last chapter + epilogue, as well. I'm sorry for the mess, but I really do think it's better this way. :) Enjoy.
Later on in the evening, when both Sho and Shouko had recovered from seeing Mio grow out of nowhere in their living room, the television was finally turned off. The two of them had watched the rest of the ball episode, and the episode after that, continuing off the plotline and fleshing out the world of Dark Moon a little more. Sho had returned to his star persona, cool and controlled, though he was still shaking a bit internally. Looking at the clock, he saw it was nearly midnight, and he had to be at the studio at nine the next morning. Shouko still had to drive Kyouko home, and Sho was determined to ride along with them, so he could find out where she lived now. He walked into the kitchen, ready to tell Kyouko to pack it up and how long did it take to make chocolate anyway, when he saw that she had fallen asleep at the counter, sitting on a bar stool.
She actually relaxed enough to fall asleep? thought Sho as he paused in the entryway, unsure how to approach this. Quietly, so as not to disturb her, he walked over to the refrigerator, opening the door to look at the chocolates. They were lumpy and hastily thrown together, the flour not even stirred in all the way. Kyouko had obviously not cared enough to make the chocolates correctly. Smirking in victory, he didn't even try to guess if they should remain in the refrigerator all night or be taken out. If she was so indifferent in her cooking, then Sho wasn't going to care either. Which left only one problem: Kyouko herself.
Shutting the door, he turned and leaned against the refrigerator, watching her sleep a bit. Her head was resting on folded arms, back hunched over the counter, legs relaxed against the wooden cabinets. She looked peaceful, serene even, like an angel whose harp-playing has tired her, and has fallen asleep on a cloud. A smile tugged on his lips, and he indulged himself in the luxury of a tiny smile, not a smirk or grin, not one of triumph or elation, but from the simple pleasure of seeing her face smile a bit as well, as if she was answering his own smile from her dreams.
Crossing over to where she slept, he wrapped his arms around her, one around her torso, the other underneath her knees. Testing her weight, he lifted her off the stool, cradling her to his chest. She stirred in her sleep, and her smile changed to a bit of a frown. He murmured nonsense words in her ear, words from a story she used to love so long ago, as he carried her out of the kitchen and through the midnight hallways of Shouko-san's apartment to the guest room that had been converted to his room when he began living with Shouko-san. Opening the door, he picked his way across the messy room to the bed where his spare guitar rested. Shifting around her weight, he picked up the guitar and spare sheet music that was omnipresent in the apartment, and tossed them lightly aside. Holding her close, careful to jostle her as little as possible, he bent over, slipping her in among the covers. He straightened, leaving her in the bed alone, only the tips of his fingers still touching her.
Her hand, which had laid limply against his chest when he picked her up, tightened into a little fist. He froze, wondering if she had woken up and was about to give him hell before slamming the door in his face. But her hand relaxed again and moved up, skimming across his upper chest, up the side of his neck, and came to a rest on his cheek. He leaned into her hand, her thumb caressing his skin.
Looking at her face, he could tell from her relaxed features she was still asleep, and so probably didn't even know it was him, yet it felt nice to feel a remnant of her affection against his skin, even if she was sleeping. His fingers tightened around her once more, before he let go of her completely, using one hand to take her hand from his face and laid it against her chest. She said something incomprehensible in her sleep and turned over, angling her body away from him.
He realized he was smiling slightly, and wiped it off his face. He turned his back to her, and walked precariously across the room again to the door. He refused to turn around and get one last look at her resting form before he shut the door behind him.
"Sho?" asked Shouko-san, already dressed in the robe she slept in, came out of the door across the hall from him, her tone inquiring.
"Kyouko fell asleep in the kitchen," he answered, shrugging indifferently, "And I didn't want to be the one to wake her up."
"But…" said Shouko-san, trying to reason her way through the sleep-haze, "You put her in your bed?"
"Yeah," he said apathetically, moving away from the door to shuffle to the end of the hall, "I figure she can stay the night, at least." He didn't turn to see Shouko-san's Cheshire grin. He knew she was trying to patch up Kyouko and Sho's relationship, trying to play matchmaker and get the two together again. He had seen the face Shouko-san had worn tonight a thousand times over, on his parents mostly, but also on the priest that ran the local Shinto shrine. It was the face that was trying to play God with other's lives, trying to make all the puppets dance at once. He had grown to hate that face, and so seeing it again was not welcome.
"Of course she can stay the night," said Shouko-san, who had kept the matchmaker tone out of her voice, "But where will you sleep?"
"The couch," he said over his shoulder, his feet still moving away from her, "Goodnight, Shouko-san."
"Goodnight, Sho," she answered as she watched his retreating back. When he reached the living room and turned, she moved away from the doorframe and closed the door behind her, moving to her bed.
An interesting day, she thought as she climbed into bed, A very interesting day indeed.
Sho, back on the same couch he had been lounging across for most of the evening, the fabric still warm from his body heat, he thought about the past, and the future.
What if I never left Kyoto? he wondered as he waited for sleep to come, What if Kyouko and I had stayed at my parent's house? We'd probably be engaged by now, an omiai to bring fortune to the Fuwa family. She would have made a great okami-san, he smiled as he thought of Kyouko serving guests for the rest of her life, that smile still on her face, But I never could have been her taisho-san. I was never meant to run that inn and be by her side like that.
But, he continued as he felt sleep coming, what man could stand by her side?
There was a thunderstorm tonight.
And whenever there were thunderstorms, Kyouko would bury herself in the blankets, the pillow over her head, trying to block out the sound. She would whimper whenever the thunder shook the house, tears streaming down her face. Thunderstorms were the worst of all. The unpredictable lightning that could eradicate anything, the terrifying thunder that always accompanied the lightning, the rain that was supposed to wash it all away, away from here, away from her, and yet it never did get rid of the fear. All of nature seemed to conspire together to reduce her to a shaking pile on the floor. But always, always, whenever a major thunderstorm hit the Kyoto area, he'd appear.
Shotaro, awoken by both the storm and Kyouko's cries, would get up from his own bed and stumble to Kyouko's room. Always, without fail, he'd come for her when she needed him most. That was one of the many reasons why he was her prince. When she was curled up in a ball on the floor of her room, he would come in and soothe her, telling her to move over and let him have some of the blankets as well. His presence alone was enough to give her strength through the long, terror-filled nights of childhood thunderstorms. Her Sho, Sho-chan, would usually fall asleep soon after coming in, but he'd allow her to hold his hand through the night, and they would wake up like that, in those dewy after-mornings, in the same bed.
Kyouko could feel him now, just out of reach of her fingertips. She could feel the blankets covering her, and the fear of thunderstorms far away from her. She could smell him on her sheets and in her hair. And as his presence so near to her overwhelmed her until there was nothing else, a single thought was the only thing that was in her mind. He's here, he's here, he's here, where is he?
She frowned as she felt around for him, her mind still foggy from dreams. He was here, she knew he was, he was somewhere nearby, maybe out of reach now, but that could change. Where was Sho-chan? He had to be here, he had to be, he had to, yet he wasn't. Had he already gotten up? Did his parents come in and wake him? Had they seen the two of them like this, in the same bed? How embarrassing; Kyouko would have to explain later. But now that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was Sho-chan. Where was he? She couldn't be sleeping in an empty bed. He only came to her during thunderstorms, and so she only felt his presence this close to her when she woke up. Where was he?
Kyouko's eyes snapped open, and with her sight came back awareness. The last two years flooded her senses, and she remembered. She remembered that now Sho had betrayed her, her Sho-chan gone forever, sacrificed to stardom, and she was in his apartment merely to make blackmailed chocolates to give to her stalker, and she was never to give Sho chocolates again. She remembered now.
So what the hell was his scent doing so close to her?!?!
With a yelp, Kyouko leapt from the bed, hands shoving the covers aside. She stumbled backwards, trying to put frantic distance between her and that bed that smelled like Sho. How did she get there? Did she fall asleep waiting for the chocolates to be done? Stupid Kyouko, she thought as she regained a bit of control, stupid, stupid, stupid…how could you do something so reckless? You fell asleep in the enemy's lair!
But…does that mean Sho carried me here?
"Kyouko-chan?" asked Shouko-san, wearing a light robe and leaning against the doorframe, her hair held back by pins and her hand covering a yawn. Kyouko felt a brief spurt of regret; she had probably woken Shouko-san.
"Ah, Shouko-san!" exclaimed Kyouko, her face immediately shifting from disgusted shock to politely concerned. "Good morning. Did I wake you?"
"Morning, Kyouko-chan," replied Shouko-san, "No, you didn't wake me up. I just haven't had my coffee yet. What are you doing?"
"Ah. Well," said Kyouko, "I was kind of…startled when I woke up. Sorry for sleeping in."
"It's fine, it's fine," said Shouko-san, suppressing a smile, "But it's only six-thirty now. Do you have anywhere to be?"
"Soon enough," said Kyouko, still eyeing the bed, "Can I bother you for a ride home?"
"Sure, sure," said Shouko-san as she moved away from the door, "That was the plan all along. In fact, I could run you over now."
"Thank you!" said Kyouko as her attention was finally diverted from the bed that reeked of everything despicable, "I have to just switch the chocolates from the pan to the box and I'll be ready!"
"Can you do that now?" asked Shouko-san as she moved away from the door.
"Sure," said Kyouko as she smoothed her crumpled clothes down, having worn them unwittingly to sleep. She picked her way over and around the various debris on Shotaro's floor, and then made her way to the kitchen. Opening the door to the refrigerator and taking out the chocolates, Kyouko realized they had been in the cold for too long, and had solidified. Kyouko froze over them, unsure whether she should give them to Reino or not.
On one hand, these were definitely not of the best quality to give to get back her doppelganger. And the price of that poor baby being tortured by Reino's affections was hideous. But on the other hand, she had no time to make more chocolates, they couldn't be store-bought, and this presentation would, technically, accurately represent her feelings for him. Not worth it to even make them properly, thought Kyouko as she rummaged around in the kitchen, looking for a knife or something to break off chunks of the chocolate-mass that was in the pan.
Succeeding in finding a large enough knife, Kyouko used all her strength to drive the tip of the blade into the mass and twisting it, breaking off a large enough piece to give to Reino. She found a plastic bag and dropped it the pieces in that. In fifteen minutes, she had enough to qualify as a Valentine's gift.
"You with a large knife…scary image," said Sho's voice from behind her.
She turned her head, finding him leaning against the counter, the trademark smirk on his lips, incidentally in the same spot she had been when he found her asleep the night before, but Kyouko didn't make the connection.
"Good morning," she said frostily as she turned around, wondering what to do with the rest of the hardened chocolate.
"You could just throw it out, you know," he said, the smirk deepening slightly.
Kyouko shrugged and did as he said, using her bare hands to separate chocolate from pan, throwing the pieces aside in a pile. He watched as she struggled over a more stubborn section, eventually triumphing over it and adding it to the pile. In mere minutes the entire pan was stripped of its sugary mess and sitting on the counter. Kyouko brushed the leftover pieces into the palm of her hand and tossed them away. Taking the plastic bag of the chocolate she was going to give to Reino in one hand, she turned on her heel to lean against the counter, opposite Sho.
They stared at each other, the tension slowly building in the air around them. His face was blank, giving no indicators as to what he was thinking. He looked just as bored and nonchalant as he did nearly every moment of every day, like this was no different. Her face, on the other hand, was descending from ticked to murderous at surprising speed. Her grudges, anxious to receive back their comrade who was trapped at the Beagle's side, were gathering in greater and greater numbers around her. Sho began to wonder if there was an end to them, or if they just simply appeared at Kyouko's whim, a limitless number that could go on forever. Nonetheless, he used the few acting skills he had picked up on to keep his face as expressionless as possible. He couldn't let her see any signs of weakness that those demons could pounce on.
"Sorry for the wait!" said Shouko-san as she walked in, having changed out of her robe and into regular clothes, "I tried to be as quick as possible. Are you two ready to go?"
"Yes, Shouko-san," said Kyouko, breaking eye contact with Sho, "Thanks again for going out of your way to drive me back."
"No problem, Kyouko-chan," Shouko smiled at the girl as the tension in the air dissipated, and the two childhood friends followed Shouko to the car. They slipped into the same seats as the night before; Shouko driving, Kyouko behind her and Sho in the backseat next to Kyouko.
The drive was quiet, but then again Shouko expected that. Tokyo traffic was congested in the early morning, and so ever-so-slowly they crept towards the Darumaya, Kyouko directing Shouko there. Sho seemed uninterested in the sights they passed, even though the neighborhoods they were passing through were less wealthy than the one he and Kyouko used to live in when they first came to Tokyo together. The buildings crept closer to each other, until the streets became one-way and Shouko's car was the only vehicle in sight.
Eventually, the familiar restaurant front came into view, and Kyouko told Shouko-san to stop. Smiling at Shouko-san and ignoring Sho, Kyouko thanked her one last time for driving her home and allowing Kyouko to use her kitchen, which Shouko-san responded to with the usual courtesy.
Kyouko slid out of the car, waving goodbye to Shouko-san, (still ignoring Sho) when movement caught out of the corner of her eye. She turned to it, and her mouth dropped open as she recognized Reino, dressed in normal visual-kei extravagance, leaning against the wall of the Darumaya.
"Hey, Kyouko," he said, smirking in a way that must have been copied off of one of Shotaro's interviews.
Kyouko said nothing, just glaring at him for a few minutes before walking over, neither hurried nor cautiously. When she drew level with him, she thrust the bag of chocolates into his hand, her other hand tearing through the air to his open jacket, where her grudge demon struggled against his inside pocket. As she drew it out, her hands still moving quickly to avoid touching his skin, she ripped the prayer beads that bound her doppelganger and threw them on the ground. The string holding the beads together broke, and a few dozen white beads clattered against the ground, scattering in the road.
"You poor orphan!" Kyouko exclaimed, her attention already turned away from Reino, determined to ignore him as she had ignored Sho. "What did he do you?" A few squealing sounds came from the demon, none of which was intelligible, though somehow Kyouko interpreted it, "He put a barrier around the house? You couldn't get out? He forced you to tell him where the Darumaya is? Oh, don't cry, honey," she walked away from Reino, opening the door to the Darumaya, and a few demons came out of her, comforting their comrade and threatening Reino, "He'll pay for what he's done to you, don't worry about that. Mommy will take care of it."
She closed the door behind her, leaving Reino alone in the alley with the silver car Kyouko had come out of, a broken string of prayer beads, and a bag of horrible chocolate. He stared at the door for a few moments, conscious of the loitering car, before he opened the bag and took out one of the chocolates. Marveling for a moment at the intense hatred and aggravation that radiated from the chocolate, he brought it to his mouth, barely touching it to his lips before he spat it out. It tasted like...Fuwa Sho. Kyouko had made the chocolates, not thinking about Reino, but about Fuwa the entire time she was making the chocolates! The entire bag stunk of Fuwa, and of her feelings for him.
"She really hates me, huh?" he remarked to no one, though he expected an answer from whoever was in the car. Probably Tsuruga, he reflected, She does seem to have a habit of running to him. Damn, and here I thought she might have listened to me when I said it was annoying to Tsuruga.
"I wouldn't count on it," said an amused voice, and Reino stood in shock as the backseat window was rolled down halfway, to reveal Fuwa Sho's smirking mug. "I really, really wouldn't count on it." Reino stared in near-openmouthed disbelief as the car pulled away and he saw Fuwa bring his legs up on the seat to lounge across the backseat of the car.
Damn! he thought as the car turned a corner and went out of sight, I've lost this round, haven't I? No worries, though. After all, there's always White Day.