DISCLAIMER: SKIP BEAT! and its associated characters are the work of Yoshiki Nakamura. This author claims no ownership of Skip Beat or any of its characters.

Author's Note: This is my blind alley strategy. I have a feeling that this one is going to be a long one, and if I don't publish these two chapters I'll never finish anything else afterwards because there won't be anything holding me accountable. So, thanks, everyone! Footnotes at the bottom of the page.

Chapter I: In Which the Princess Comes Into Her Kingdom

She stayed in Tokyo just long enough to earn a small savings. It was just enough for a Shinkansen back to Kyoto and a little extra just-in-case. Kyoto was the only place she could go, after all. The Darumaya Taisho and Okami-san had told her she could stay in her little boarding-room...had even told her not to give up. But she had decided to put dreaming in her past. She was a girl without any remarkable features. No breasts. No talent. No style. Even now, the memory of her katsuramuki in front of a stage full of starlets made her face burn. What had she been doing, standing on that stage? Did she think for a minute that she could compete with Kotonami-san, with her fine features and her prodigious speed reading? Did she think she could even breathe the same air as Tsuruga Ren?

No. He had been right. Guts weren't enough, after all.

Somehow she'd found herself facing him at the doors out of the building. She'd been leaving, he had just arrived. He'd glared at her before schooling his face into a cool mask and then dismissing her without a word.

He didn't really need to say anything. Kyoko heard him anyway. A woman like you, empty of nothing but revenge. I despise you. Leave!

It had been salt on a wound that was festering.

In the past few months since she'd moved into the Darumaya, Taisho and Okami-san had grown increasingly concerned as she moved from rage and grief to this state of blank stillness. Kyoko had never been open about her personal life, but there had always been an exuberant joy about her, as if only she knew a secret so luminous it couldn't help but leak out of her like a barely shuttered lamp leaked light. It had been frightening to watch her dim. She still smiled at the customers, but those smiles never reached her eyes. It grieved them. Taisho had tried, in his own gruff way, to push Kyoko back to trying for her dream. But every time he did, Kyoko would sink deeper into a black miasma, grudges flying around her in a spiral. All Kyoko could see were Tsuruga-san's eyes dismissing her like trash. His face would couple with Sho's, and the combined weight of it-of being thrown out like a rag and then dismissed coldly onto the pavement, of working so hard for so little, of having the only dreams she'd ever dared cherish so easily torn apart-she had no choice. She could burn up into ash or she could cherish that rage into a little diamond to keep her warm at night.

In her heart of hearts, she didn't want to go back to Kyoto. She didn't want to face Fuwa-san and Yayoi-san, coming back like a beggar. But she was just 16, and she had no reason to stay in Tokyo. The Fuwas were her legal guardians until she came of age. And the Fuwa ryokan was the closest thing she had to a home, so she would swallow her pride and go back. From there she would find a way to finish school and go to university, make a small living for herself. The past few months had been revelatory. She didn't have to pay for Sho's extravagant lifestyle anymore, sure. But neither could she have her revenge on him. Empty. I am empty, she'd think. Could I be happy with a small life? she thought, Can a person live on habits alone? She didn't know if Yayoi-san would welcome her back, but even if she had no glamorous talent, she knew she was a hard worker who knew her way around the kitchen and the ryokan. Ryokan were always in need of well-trained nakai, and Yayoi had trained her herself, after all. Maybe they would let her earn her way until she could stand on her own again.

She clutched Corn in her hand. Corn seemed silly now. No magic would save her from reality. Kindness, that faithful byword of every princess in tatters, had failed her. The world did not reward her virtue, it only punished her hopes. No fairy prince would come rescue her.

There is no magic, Kyoko, she thought to herself. No destiny. No fate. No akai-ito to tie me down.

Time to grow up.

But she still held onto Corn, because Corn had seen her through her very worst. Corn was proof that he had existed. Perhaps all the hope she placed in it was worth something. Fairy prince or not, someone had given her the water sapphire. Someone had cared. Even if it had been a lifetime ago. Even if it had been for just a few days. Let me keep this one thing, she told herself, and I will harden myself against everything the world will throw at me for all the years ahead.

She sighed and took one last look at herself in the mirror. In the fit of rage after Sho's callous betrayal, she had cut and dyed her hair. She'd bought new clothes, she'd stormed LME, she'd moved out of the apartment that she had always thought overly luxurious and therefore wasteful. She didn't recognize herself. Now...well...her rage hadn't so much cooled as it had hardened. Perhaps she wasn't meant to be an actress, but she had to live somehow.

She breathed in, put Corn in her purse, gathered her fist and brought it to her chest as she left the Darumaya for the last time.

Taisho-san and Okami-san accompanied her to the train station, where she boarded with her meager possessions in one suitcase.

"Itterrashai, Kyoko-chan," Okami-san said. She and Taisho had grown very fond of the girl in the years she'd worked for them. She had always given her best, and done it with a smile, even though it had been clear to them that she was running herself ragged for whatever reason. She had cried the first night she moved in, late at night, alone in her room. Okami-san had woken in the wee hours of the morning to hear Kyoko's muffled sobbing.

But Okami-san never heard her cry again.

Okami-san smiled as Kyoko bowed before her and her husband.

"Arigato gozai masu, Okami-san, Taisho-san. I'll never forget your kindness to me," Kyoko said.

"Come back to us anytime, Kyoko-chan. We'll always have a space for you."

They watched her board the train, her back straight and her head held high.

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The Shinkansen took two hours and forty minutes to bring her two years into her past. Soon she found herself going to Arashimaya (1) and then onto the ryokan. The Fuwa ryokan was located on a hilly riverbank west of central Kyoto. It was accessible only by boat. For nearly 300 years, it had welcomed travelers to a riverside retreat. These days, it was known internationally as a luxurious and exclusive property, popular with foreign tourists and businessmen with large bank accounts. In the two years since her departure with Sho, the restaurant had earned a Michelin star for its kaiseki meals. Her training in etiquette, in cooking, in chado, in ikebana, even the way she spoke English like a native speaker-it hadn't been an accident. The Fuwas had considered themselves stewards of the ryokan's traditions, and when Kyoko had come into their care, they saw in her the ability to carry those traditions onward. Her early affection for Sho had been obvious and they had hoped that someday, the two of them would treasure this legacy and pass it onto their grandchildren. They had taken it for granted, thinking that Kyoko knew her training was to prepare her to be the lady of the ryokan. But the gods laugh at men who make plans, and when Sho and Kyoko had left for Tokyo, the Fuwas were at a loss.

It wasn't a glamorous time for the Kyoto tourist season, so the boat to the ryokan wasn't crowded. She boarded the boat under a heavy rain that pooled on the flagstones of Kyoto's temples and ran down the petals of blue ajisai. Soon enough, she spotted the ryokan on the hillside by the river, swathed in mist. She didn't remember it being so beautiful.

It was quiet here. Far from the constant buzz of Tokyo's traffic. Far from the never-ending din of Sho's music, the continuous chatter of a million strangers, the neon glare that lit the night in place of stars.

I've never even looked at it before, Kyoko thought. I was so focused on Sho that I never even looked around.

She made her way up the hill, walking towards the rear service entrance for staff and deliveries. The rain had not stopped; she did not have an umbrella. She didn't really care. She found herself haunted by her past selves. Little Kyoko playing tag with Sho in the garden that was so carefully raked daily. Little Kyoko cutting her fingers as she learned how to cut daikon into a paper-thin ribbon. Little Kyoko learning to sit seiza, gritting her teeth when legs went numb as she sat formally for an hour.

Little Kyoko hiding her bruises.

She walked into the ryokan like she had never left, finding Yayoi-san with her back to the door, busy in her office managing the house's accounts.

"Sumimasen, Okami-san," she said. (2)

Yayoi stiffened in surprise, and then turned around, looking towards the chestnut-haired girl in the doorway. Her eyes widened as she saw Kyoko descend into a dogeza.

"Yayoi-san-"

"Kyoko-chan! Kyoko-chan!"

Yayoi ran to the girl whose forehead met her floor, gathering her limp, damp form into her arms.

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An hour or so later, Yayoi sat with her husband and her ward in one of the ryokan's tatami rooms. Kyoko sat in front of them both, sitting in formal seiza as she had been taught years ago. Kyoko had showered and changed into dry clothing, surprised at how easily she had been welcomed back. But now, she supposed, there would be a reckoning.

Everyone was silent for a few seconds. The Fuwas looked at Kyoko, wondering at her. True, her haircut had changed her appearance. But it was the way she held herself that kept them silent. Was it a new-found dignity? Her eyes were flat planes that kept them from seeing into her soul. This girl whose very being had vibrated with life was as silent and still as a rock. Naive, sweet Kyoko had come back to them, but as a stranger. This girl...was this girl really sixteen? Was she really the always-smiling, always-devoted Kyoko-chan who followed their son as if he were the very air she breathed? Before she'd left for Tokyo, all Kyoko had ever wanted was love. Despite the fact that love had been denied her all her life, it showed in everything she did. But now...her eyes...

It's not dignity, Yayoi thought. It's the look of someone who has nothing left.

What had happened to her? What had Shotaro done? The sight of her caused a nameless twinge in Yayoi's gut.

No...not nameless. This feeling, its name is...

Guilt.

Kyoko raised her eyes and said softly, "Yayoi-san..."

And then to her surprise, the elder Fuwas bowed to her.

Fuwa-san spoke first. "Kyoko-chan. We...we're glad to see you again. We were so worried when that worthless son of ours took you to Tokyo."

Yayoi, haltingly, "Kyoko-chan...we never told you...how much you meant to us. We never said...that we thought of you as our daughter. We are sorry-"

"I am sorry, Yayoi-san! I never even said goodbye to you and Fuwa-san, even though you had both been so kind to me, giving me a home..." and again, Kyoko fell into a dogeza.

"Kyoko-chan...please...let me finish." Yayoi's voice was quiet. "We are sorry, Kyoko-chan. We are sorry. We knew...how cruel your mother was. We saw the bruises, and we didn't say anything. We heard her scream at you even when we knew that you were doing your best. Shotaro always told us how your teachers raved about you at school, how hard you tried...and yet your mother treated you as if you were dirt to be scrubbed off of her shoe. We did what we could-we took you in when your mother left. My brother asked us to. But we never comforted you when all you needed was someone to hold you. A child should never have experienced what you did. No child..."

Kyoko raised her forehead from the floor and looked at the Fuwas, her eyes widening.

Yayoi continued.

"After you left, Kyoko...your old sensei from school spoke to us. He told us about the bullying...about how they treated you in school. And again, we're sorry we never protected you."

"We couldn't help but hope, Kyoko, that you would become Sho's bride. We always hoped that you two would continue on in our stead. This ryokan has been here for almost three hundred years and now...now our son has gone and we know he won't come back. He threw us and his own legacy away. He said to consider him dead, that we had no son and that we were strangers to him. The last time we spoke he refused to tell us what had happened to you. Kyoko-chan...back then...we never asked you if you wanted to learn how to serve customers. But you did, and you did it with such a smile. We were so proud of you! It was so easy to teach you, I never thought that perhaps you should just have been a child instead. And...and I failed both you and Sho. I doted on him because he was my boy and I...I never thought how my doting would spoil him...I took the future we had built for both of you for granted...and...I never told you how cute you were, Kyoko-chan, in your pigtails and your little yukata...and how quickly you learned all the tea ceremony temai...We never told you...that you mattered...we never said even one word of kindness...And when Sho took you to Tokyo...he...he...he was like us. He never saw that he had a treasure in his hand..."

Yayoi interrupted herself as a sob rose to her throat.

Fuwa looked at his wife and put his hand on her back to quiet her as tears fell from her eyes.

He spoke. "Kyoko-chan...Yayoi and I come from old families. We...don't know..we…*I* was not taught that children should be comforted. We didn't understand until after you'd left that you kept smiling just to keep us from thinking you were a burden. You never were a burden, Kyoko-chan...and...what Yayoi and I want to say is...we no longer have a son. We...know it may be too late for you to accept us as family but...Kyoko, we have a place for you, if you want it. We will speak to Saena. Kyoko, will you be the daughter of this ryokan? Will you carry on after we are gone? Will you take the legacy that Sho left behind?"

Kyoko sat still for what seemed like an age as the Fuwas calmed and looked on. They had surprised her. She had not expected to be welcomed, and yet she had been claimed as a daughter. She looked at them for a long time, and they watched as something in her gaze softened.

Bowing again, she said, "Fuwa-san...Yayoi-san...I can never replace your son. But I will do my best to carry on your legacy, if you will have me."

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The first few months of Kyoko's return were difficult for the Fuwas and for Kyoko herself. She did her work like a robot, moving like an efficient shadow throughout the ryokan. Yayoi knew they had asked her to be the daughter they never had, but during those first months she couldn't help feeling that Kyoko could never be happy here, Okami-san or not. She wanted to shake the girl-just to prove that she was alive. She wanted to tell her that the Fuwas would support her even if she wanted to leave, because watching her like this was like watching a butterfly die in a glass jar. More than once, Yayoi would think, "We're killing her as surely as Sho would have." Both of the Fuwas could see it, and they were reminded of another Mogami whose eyes still wore the same icy expression as a ruthless lawyer let loose in Tokyo's courts.

But perhaps the one thing Kyoko had in common with her mother was an iron core. Before too much time had passed, she'd tested into her high school with flying colors and, as far as Yayoi knew, was at the top of her class. She was up at dawn to discuss programs and itineraries for guests coming in and the day's menu, then heading off to school, only to come right back in the afternoons and evenings to serve. Occasionally, she would accompany the chef into town to pick up for the seasonal ingredients that so defined the refined cuisine of Kyoto's ryokans. Kyoko attributed the skill with which she carried out these duties to Yayoi's careful upbringing. Yayoi attributed them to Kyoko's guts.

Once Kyoko transferred into her school, she had taken an almost feral satisfaction in coming in first on every exam. Her English improved to an accentless fluency. She had begun learning Mandarin and French. A thought came to her shortly after she'd received her entrance exam results: Would someone who has never received anything below an 80 be considered stupid? The idea that she didn't have to be perfect set her free to climb the heights on her own terms. She didn't do this for Saena anymore, no. She did it for herself. She wanted to hold her own against the guests who came to the ryokan-executives that needed their drinks poured, or the all-too-pretty actors and actresses who thought nothing of guzzling down entire bottles of sake with their meal, or the rich tourists who came to the ryokan wanting an "authentic Japanese experience." She wanted to know what it was like to win. And without Sho consuming her efforts like a bottomless pit, she had to admit that she had abilities worth cultivating.

Not terribly many of the girls from middle school attended her high school, but when prospective bullies came to play, she let loose a cloud of grudges and rage and hatred so dense the girls would run away. Her time in Tokyo had shown her how small and petty these little school games were. The cruelties these little girls wanted to inflict had nothing on what the real world could do. Really, they almost bored Kyoko. These bullies had never had to fend for themselves, never known the fear of eviction, never known what it was like to be left deserted alone and friendless by someone they loved. The first day of school she'd arrived and funeral flowers had been placed on her desk. Kyoko had taken them and made herself a little crown of flowers and smiled like a vampire out for blood as her grudges showed no mercy to the squealing little piggies who'd tried to mess with her. Once her would-be bullies were able to move again, they gave her wide berth as they cowered in the corner.

Eventually, Kyoko made the decision to stop thinking of the past. She rarely thought of Sho, not even when his songs inevitably flitted into her existence. She stopped thinking about the debacle that was her audition at LME, though she occasionally saw a familiar face on the TV that the Fuwas watched in the evenings. The Fuwas had watched Dark Moon, though they compared it mercilessly to Tsukigomori. She'd hear Ren's voice from the TV as she did her homework in the next room over...and wasn't that Kotonami-san in the Curara commercial? These things were just echoes of another life to her, now. Now she lived in reality. Now she had a place to occupy in life. Only children thought of things like 'a fulfilling career' or 'dream jobs.' And only lunatics ever thought of happily-ever-afters.

Not the revenge that I wanted, but the revenge I have, she'd think.

She wasn't in showbiz, but even Sho couldn't deny that this was well and truly revenge. In the weeks following her arrival, the Fuwas had contacted Saena at her law firm regarding their intent to formally disinherit Sho and make Kyoko their sole heir. And Saena, doing the one maternal thing she had ever done, insisted on reviewing the terms of the paperwork to ensure that Kyoko's inheritance would be secure. Kyoko wasn't so naive as to overlook the fact that the Fuwa ryokan was a multi-million yen property-one that she could bring into even better profitability in the future, or even sell to a larger resort conglomerate.

The night the papers had been signed, Kyoko felt a little bit more of her childhood die as a bittersweet laugh came out of the darkness where her heart had been.

At last, she was the rich daughter of an established family. At last, the Cinderella of the kitchen was the princess of the castle. Even if she was cursed never to smile again, so what? She was, for the first time, finally awake to see reality as it was. No true love's kiss needed.

And so, even if she couldn't call herself happy, she did, in fact, feel satisfied.

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A little over a year later...

Yayoi watched as Kyoko performed a tea ceremony for corporate executives in the tea house. She was seventeen, looking forward to finishing her last year of high school as she worked part-time as the young Okami-in-training. She was going to sit for her university exams, too, hoping to go to the prestigious Kyoto University nearby. Yayoi had no doubts she would be admitted. After all, Yayoi thought, the world has changed. I was wrong to think that an heir needed to be tied down here. She needn't be here every day if she wants another career. Many businesses have owners who delegate to managers, after all. And a business degree may be useful in moving the ryokan forward. It would be a waste not to cultivate her mind.

Yayoi watched with approval as Kyoko engaged in the polite formalities that defined the chaji. She was never intimidated in the company of the rich or the famous-and they certainly had their fair share of those guests. She had an elegance that drew people to her. People would visit the ryokan again and again without being quite conscious of the fact that they did so just to see her again. Her hair was long and black again, pinned atop her head in an elegant chignon, revealing a long, graceful neck exposed just-so by her kimono's collar. Yayoi couldn't miss how the men looked at her in her houmongi. Their eyes followed her as she stepped into the tea house holding the chawan, walking for all the world as if she had been born to wear a kimono. Kyoko never noticed how they looked at her, never noticed when they flirted with her.

Not that Kyoko was unobservant, of course. She still made scarily accurate dolls, though she no longer made little Sho-chans. Yayoi found her making a Ren Tsuruga once.

Following the tea ceremony, Yayoi called Kyoko to the office to discuss an unusual last-minute rental. The guest wanted to reserve a little over a month of time-and he wanted to arrive in seven days. It was unusual for guests to stay longer than a week at the ryokan. It was expensive, after all, with peak season prices averaging more than 200,000 yen a night. But this guest had requested the largest suite of the ryokan for a month, and both suites adjacent to it. It was lucky that the suites were even open for the time period, though this wasn't a popular time to visit Kyoto. Yayoi had had some cancellations, leaving the rooms available. But...well, the rich were the rich, after all. The guest's representative had asked her to have the staff sign non-disclosure agreements. With these demands for discretion in mind, Yayoi wanted Kyoko to handle this guest personally. No one else on staff had her attention to detail, and with the amount of money offered, nothing less than perfection would do.

"What's the guest's name, Yayoi-san?" Kyoko asked after receiving the briefing. She was imagining a grandfather-type, possibly an eccentric, someone who was fond of quiet and had more money than he could spend.

"Hizuri Kuon. Apparently he stayed here as a child. He arrives in a week."

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Footnotes:

(1) In canon, the Fuwa ryokan is depicted as being right on the river. I based my ryokan on Hoshinoya Kyoto, a ryokan which is, in fact, on a riverbank nestled between tall hills. I've never been there, but I hope to go someday. Seriously, go google it. It's located in Arashimaya and you do need to take a boat to the ryokan. It is exactly the kind of place where Kyoko would meet Corn. And it IS extremely expensive. At the time of this writing, prices were about $462 US dollars/night. During peak season (sakura season, for example), prices are as high as $1800 USD/night.

(2) Also, I just want to head off confusion about the term "Okami-san," which refers alternately to Darumaya's Okami-san and Yayoi Fuwa. Okami-san is the name usually given to the proprietress of an establishment. The Darumaya Okami-san is never given a name, so I couldn't give her one. Sho's father also doesn't have a name, so I just refer to him as Fuwa-san.

(3) Some terms, defined:

Akai ito - the red string of fate, said to connect destined lovers. In Japan, the string is said to connect the man's thumb to the woman's pinky.

Ajisai - Hydrangeas. They bloom during Japan's rainy season, and you'll often spot them in manga and anime with rain pouring down.

Temae - Not all tea ceremonies are the same. "Temae" is the term used to describe different tea ceremony procedures. For example, there are different temae for thin tea and thick tea, for different seasons, for specific kinds of tea ware, for specific guests.

Ikebana - the Japanese method of arranging flowers

Houmongi - A semi-formal women's kimono characterized by a pattern moving from the hem all the way to the shoulders.

Chawan - a tea bowl used during the tea ceremony

Chaji - A formal tea gathering

Chashitsu - A 'tea house': a room or structure built for the tea ceremony