DISCLAIMER: Full credit goes to Nakamura Yoshiki, the creator of Skip Beat, Emily Bronte's Wuthering Height's, and Yoshishige Yoshida's Arashi ga Oka. A full bibliography of works cited will be included with Chapter 10. The only thing I own is the character O'Hara Cho (an OC).

My thanks to the wonderfulOnePlotThickens for their help Beta-ing this story.

They've helped to give it a finesse I couldn't achieve by myself.

STORMY HILLS

3| Onimaru

"Director Ohara?"

"O'Hara," the woman corrected, and Hidehito Kijima balked slightly; he continued to mistakenly call her for the Japanese district, rather than the European pronunciation of her surname. "If it gets too much for you, why don't you just call me Cho, Kijima-san?"

He laughed rakishly, knowing that she knew he had no idea how to differentiate Ohara from O'Hara.

"Did you have a question for me?" She prodded, her attention focused on the set-dressers as they readied for the next scene.

"Yes," He answered. "I was just wondering why Kyoko-san was cast as Kinu. I mean, she's a brilliant actress for someone so young, but as far as I know she's never been cast as a romantic lead."

O'Hara snorted. "I don't get it either, but Hiroaki swears by her."

They turned to a shadowed part of the set where Kyoko had sequestered herself. They had only been filming simple scenes so far; quiet sweeping shots of movement, simple dialogue between the family of characters. None of the distinct magnetism between Kinu and Onimaru had been broached as of yet. Kyoko had taken it into her stride. As soon as the costume, hair and makeup crews finished with her and she was pushed out towards the set, a mist descended. She grew taller, lither, and more gentle. There was a quiet rapaciousness to how Kinu eyed Onimaru in the scant few scenes they shared together in the beginning act; for Hidehito, it astounded and disturbed him. He'd acted with Tsuruga Ren before. Then, and only then, did he feel as though he had been goaded, just as Kyoko's Kinu had pushed him so far.

He felt the need to up himself; to have his portrayal of Onimaru become rougher, undignified and feral. Onimaru embodied everything Kinu was not, yet somehow the pair complimented one another.

Onimaru was also everything Kijima Hidehito was not. And for good reason, he thought wryly as he pictured the fan polls he rated highly on every time.

"Did you have a major concern, or are we idly discussing Hiroaki's obsession with his muse?" O'Hara drawled as she curled her own copy of the Stormy Hills script into a tube with her hands.

"No, no. I just-" Did he have a concern? He wouldn't have mentioned something otherwise, would he? "It's just, Kyoko is very young. Whenever I've had chance to speak with her, she never struck me as someone worldly, y'know? I have a feeling she doesn't know what she's in for, I guess. Does that make any sense?"

"No," O'Hara replied, raising her eyebrows as though to ask him to elaborate.

Hidehito shifted his gaze to where Kyoko sat, preparing for the next scene. The teenager was worlds away from reality, her eyes donning the shining glaze he had witnessed on the Dark Moon set whenever an idealistic flight of fantasy struck her. A loose smile tugged at her rouged lips, painted red like the fine elaborate patterned kimono Kinu wore for this scene.

It would be the scene where she took her mirror into the yard, shining it at Onimaru as he toiled in his hut.

It would also be the scene where Kinu and Onimaru's curiosity of each other tripled.

They had been told that no child actors had been cast to fill the roles of the younger Onimaru and Kinu, so it would be down to them- Kyoko and he that is, to bridge that gap. There simply wasn't a budget for another two on the payroll, yet clever ticks of lighting, makeup, costuming and acting skill could pass two grown actors as young ones given the circumstances.

There were, of course, obvious limitations for this. Hidehito Kijima couldn't pass for an incredibly young child, but by altering his posture, cutting back on what he ate, and sacrificing some exercises that kept his muscles defined for a while, he could body could fool anyone into thinking he was an awkward, scrawny teenager again.

Director O'Hara looked at him sceptically.

Hidehito flushed slightly; "I mean, she's very naïve. Do you think she can act out physical… sensuality?"

"I take it you've read the novel then?" Usually, he would have nodded to save face. This time however, Hidehito had been curious as to the novel's importance, having seen Arashi ga Oka before. "Kyoko-san strikes me as a competent actress so far. She's of age and willing to act this role, but should she struggle with later scenes, I'm sure there are ways we can educate and encourage her. If anything, you seem more concerned about this than her."

With that, O'Hara was called away by a member of the camera crew, and she joined her fellow director in a tense discussion of budget lenses and low grade equipment. The budget had not stretched as far as they had hoped.

Hidehito stood, lost for a moment. They hadn't had a call to the set as of yet, and everyone else seemed so busy. To stop them and to ask them to indulge him in conversation would be rude. As would be leaving the studio to liberate his mobile phone from the tiny dressing room he had been allotted.

By dressing room, he meant small cubicle, bet hey, he'd worked with less before. Not everyone lived the high life from the get go.

Instead he wandered over to Kyoko. The scratchy rags of cloth the clothing department had woven and sewn together to form a tunic of sorts, rustled and itched at his skin. A vest of faux fur covered his slouching back and shoulders. The long, frizzy wig, copious amounts of makeup, and some complexion deepening fake tan had transformed him from the refined and playful Hidehito Kijima into the brutish Onimaru.

Kyoko appeared startled by his appearance, the porcelain mask of the silken Kinu slipping as she took him in.

"Kijima-san!" She exclaimed buoyantly. "The costume people do a really good job with so little resources, you look very convincing."

"As do you," he replied playfully, though the compliment flew far over Kyoko's head. "Are you prepared for this scene then?"

Beside her on another folding chair, one of many that had been dotted about in the studio around the set, lay her script and her copy of the novel. The covers were kept clean, but the pages were no doubt poured over and worn from the constant turn of fingers. Kyoko wasn't one to dog-ear her pages, but helpful notes and memos could be found in the margins and scribbled over certain passages. Hidehito supposed this helped her tremendously while creating her characters. Beyond that lay a small misshaped oval of glass. The prop's team had scoured thrift stores around Tokyo for second hand mirrors they could cut and fob as an antique to fit the part of the gift Kinu's father gives to her.

"Mm," Kyoko hummed. "I think so. It's quite an important sequence today, right? It would be wrong to say I wasn't nervous at all. Thankfully Kijima-san is more experienced than I, and I would be grateful for any guidance you could give me."

She had to be playing with him, right?

Sure, he had more years on her as an actor, but she had more raw talent within her to completely outstrip his whole career. Kijima felt irritation surface within him, the likes of which he felt around Kyoko's precious 'Tsuruga-sempai'.

His eyes narrowed with caution instinctively; "Certainly, Kyoko-san."

To her confusion, he stalked away pettily. Should she choose to play this game with him, he certainly wouldn't encourage her nor offer himself up as a marionette. This time, Hidehito Kijima would fight the urge to submit.

Onimaru was wild, and free, and strong.

Hidehito would be too.

Nothing Kinu or Kyoko could do would be able to stop him once he got started, and poor Kyoko had no idea of the events she had unknowingly catalysed that would soon follow.