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 wonderful OnePlotThickens for their help Beta-ing this story.
They've helped to give it a finesse I couldn't achieve by myself.
STORMY HILLS
5| Masks
"That was amazing, the pair of you!" Director O'Hara squealed, flinging herself on set to embrace the two actors. It was as though she had forgotten a third actor had been with them at the time.
Director Ogata's face was flushed, and he swiped at his eyes for rogue tears; "I was mistaken in believing your Mio to be intense, Kyoko-san… But I-I have never seen the likes of this before."
The actors were guided from the set as the staff rushed in to prepare it for the next scene. Each were handed a water bottle, and offered a place to sit as the makeup team muscled their way through the applauding staff to make any needed adjustments.
Kijima-san had offered no congratulations on the scene, merely took the offered water bottle, sat in an empty seat, and closed his eyes. The makeup artist assigned to him converged, patting him down with a mixture of powder and bronzer to create the tanned, semi-dirty contours on Onimaru's face.
Kyoko's heart fluttered unsurely. The box rattled threateningly in her chest, wishing itself to be unlocked. It took everything she had, every scrap of hatred to control it. She placed her hands over her heart, feeling the unsteady pull of feelings try to demolish the security of blissful ignorance she had wrapped herself in after him.
Never- not in all the times that Tsuruga-san had rattled her defences, or Sho had shown up to ruin her life again, had she felt to rattled.
Why now?
Why Onimaru?
Why Hidehito Kijima of all people?!
He'd responded to her acting as though it were a challenge. If Kinu was ice, then Onimaru was fire, and the dance the two performed around one another was deadly. Kijima-san had baited her, and she- Kinu, had responded in full. Yet he didn't seem affected at all by it.
Kinu had controlled the smouldering, beseeching looks, the gentle sway of her hips while she took dainty steps from one side of the set to the other. The resignation on her features as she grew into a young woman, the attraction she felt towards Kijima-san's convincing Onimaru; it was all controlled by Kinu, and not Kyoko.
Kyoko's façade was beginning to crumble.
How could she willingly submit herself to this, knowing full well that she couldn't control Kinu or the lock on her heart at the same time? How could she at this point abandon the project, all because of her silly restraint failing? How could she allow Kinu to wrestle control out of her hands?! Not even Natsu or Mio could do such a thing!
This would only lead to disaster, just as her blindly dogging Sho's footsteps had been Kyoko Mogami's undoing. A stronger, resistant Kyoko had emerged from the rubble of her broken heart, but she was not infallible. Unspeakable things could pour out of the mythical Pandora's Box all people were said to hold within them. Kyoko's had been located where her heart lay, and had unleashed her grudges. In turn, she placed her heart inside the forbidden chest and vowed no one would convince her to open it again.
She was prey to Tsuruga-san occasionally. She could feel the locks on the chest weakening each time she acted across from him.
A disarming, genteel smile from her male co-workers could sometimes send her into a flutter. Usually at that point, Natsu or Mio would rise to the surface to save her. Natsu loved to toy with emotions, and Kyoko knew Mio's aura was enough to dissuade anyone's advances.
Strangely, even Sho elicited some feeling from her heart of stone. Not that she would admit that, of course.
The fact remained that she was scared of ever feeling herself letting go of the hold on her emotions. The distinct irrationality that love drove people to, the delirium of happiness that kept her subservient. Kyoko couldn't- wouldn't allow herself to go back to that. Love would tie a slackened noose around her that would gradually tighten the more engrossed she became- and it was something she feared she would never escape again.
However, it appeared she had no choice but to if she wanted to keep her job.
Kyoko knew she was tenacious, and sometimes her tact could use a little finesse. She wouldn't shy away from confronting whatever it was standing in her way, something that Director Lory knew and took advantage of when handing out LoveME assignments like Christmas presents.
Sadly, Kyoko sat beside Kijima on an available chair.
Just this once, she pleaded in her head to anyone who would listen. Just this once… give me the strength to feel without any remorse. Please, let me not get hurt again!
She wished she could talk to someone- anyone!
Perhaps after she had succeeded in her battle with Kinu, she would tell Tsuruga-san and Moko-san all about the filming experience. Then it would be too late for them to protest against it or persuade her into other projects. Otou-san kept in contact with Director Lory, and then everyone would know what she was trying to pull off. He might even feel ashamed of her sub-par reasoning for taking a role in Stormy Hills, just as she knew Tsuruga-san would be.
However, Kyoko felt compelled to see this through, for better or worse. Until then, there was one person she could turn to.
She had felt her Kinu react to him; not because of the predisposed connection the two shared, but because of the intensity Kijima had portrayed Onimaru with. Kinu had met her match, the pair had clashed and complimented, and were well on the road to their not-so-happy ending. It had been an equal effort from the two lead roles to act in that manner. It was a level of realness they would have to encapsulate throughout the duration of the whole film, and it was exhausting. Multiple takes where Onimaru and Kinu had to be lost in one another's presence, above of those surrounding them, would surely kill them if they couldn't get it right on the first go. NG's were something Kyoko wished to avoid anyway, but with this project it would have to be a necessity.
"Kijima-san?" Kyoko asked quietly.
He appeared to be in a better mood now than her had shortly after exiting the set; "Yes?"
"I was wondering if I could ask for some advice- for a friend!" Kyoko hurriedly added.
Hidehito stared at her incomprehensibly for what seemed to be an age. She held his gaze unwaveringly. He shook his head with a slight snort, screwing the cap firmly onto his water bottle.
"Tell me more about this friend of yours. What can I help her with- I assume it's a she?" He said, finally relenting to her. His angered had cooled after proving that, yes, he could act just as she did usually. It was more the fact that it was never required of him to do so before acting opposite of Kyoko and Ren- and the latter was still fiendishly difficult to match or better when it came to anything, let alone acting. For that, Kijima Hidehito was glad he was the darling actor and model of the Akatoki Agency, and not playing second fiddle to Tsuruga Ren at LME.
Then again, Tsuruga Ren was but a pretty face. Much like that Fuwa kid.
Kijima could attest that he had the skill to match his sex appeal. Neither was lacking either.
Thoughts of why Kyoko would approach him, and not her sempai, for help danced playfully across his mind. A coy smile tugged at his lips; Kyoko needed a real man's opinion, and she barely saw him enough to feel embarrassed over asking about something so personal.
"And more importantly," Hidehito continued, casually looping an arm around the back of Kyoko's chair; barely brushing her shoulders. "Why in all of Japan would she come to me for advice, when I'm certain there are more… wholesome, alternatives available?"
Within her, Kyoko felt Kinu stir. The persona was pleased that Onimaru would lend his ear to her, happiness bubbled inside of Kyoko- happiness that wasn't of her own making.
She quickly tried to push it down.
"My… f-friend," her face was bright red already, Hidehito noted with glee. "She's been hurt before by someone she was seeing."
Hidehito stilled; his previous anger and amusement washing away.
"N-not what you're thinking! He broke her heart," Kyoko exclaimed, shamefaced.
"Was it Tsuruga?" He managed to grind out in return through his gritted teeth. Kyoko shook her head solemnly. "Who?"
The reply was almost so inaudible that he had her repeat it several times before she finally cried 'Fuwa!', red-faced and flustered. The crew turned at her shout, and Kijima lazily waved off their concern.
"Explain," He commanded her. Kyoko was hesitant to begin explaining, but the stern, patient look her fixed her with had Kinu spilling her deepest darkest secrets and regrets before Kyoko could restrain her.
After some time, just before they were due back onto the set and after Hidehito had digested all that she had divulged to him in his mind, did he finally say something:
"Y'know," he began, helping her up from her chair with a gentlemanly extended arm. His lips quirked as she released his arm and smoothed the surface layer of her costume kimono, watching him balefully to gauge his reaction to her tale. "At first I thought you were propositioning me for sex."
Kyoko swayed on her feet.
"I'm surprised you're still uncomfortable with this," He continued, "After what comes later on in the script…"
Kyoko dislodged her arm from his, worried about what exactly came later in the script. She scanned the pages, feeling as though she had forgotten to glance over something. When she read the ominous stage directions for a certain scene- Hidehito peering over her shoulder and reading it aloud with a sly grin, she fainted dead away.
She'd missed one very important scene out, effectively repressing it from her memories for daydreams of the lady-like Kinu and beautiful costumes.
Except in this scene, she wouldn't be ladylike, nor in a beautiful tailored kimono.
She'd be naked, and so would Kijima-san.