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. All other rights reserved.

Chapter V: Doki Doki Matsuri

"Friends," he'd said, and took her hand.

It was awkward at first, finishing breakfast with him. To forgive was one thing, to forget, entirely another. Now that she knew who he was, she couldn't feel entirely at ease. The first flush of recognition in the forest gave way to rage and now, after having heard his story, to anxiety.

After a particularly long silence, she said, "I'm sorry, Tsuruga-san. I can't do it after all. It's just too strange."

The blonde in front of her winced as she said Tsuruga's name. "Is it really so bad?"

Kyoko took a deep, penetrating look into her bowl of rice, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I...I think...even when I know it's Corn, it's still Tsuruga-san."

"Does Kyoko think she won't be able to forgive Tsuruga Ren after all?"

"It's not that...it's…" She looked up and saw him looking like a kicked puppy. Hangdog eyes peeked out under the fringe of blonde locks that had fallen over his face.

It would have been pitiful, except it was so cute.

Gaaaahhh! she thought. Out loud, she said, "Ano…."

"No, no, I understand. He...wasn't kind when he met you. I simply can't expect you to forgive me so easily."

"Why do you say Tsuruga Ren as if he's a different person? Kuon is Tsuruga Ren, isn't he?"

"Well...yes. And also no. Tsuruga-san is who I want to be as an actor and as a man. I have...a long way to go."

She took a long look at Kuon. The morning had been so full of surprises. There was no doubt that he was Tsuruga-san, but she'd never imagined Tsuruga Ren slouching quite like this on a tatami floor. Slouching like an American. Speaking to her so casually, as if he'd known her all his life. Had he? I talked to Corn even though I knew he couldn't hear me. Has he done the same? she wondered.

"I can understand if you don't like him, you know. But he isn't such a bad guy."

"Really?"

"He does have some redeeming qualities."

"Like?"

"Did you know he likes ironing shirts?"

"Tsuruga Ren irons his own shirts?"

"And he does his own laundry. He can't stand it when the shirts aren't folded exactly in the same way."

"What? I thought famous people didn't have to ever do their own laundry…I always thought Tsuruga-san would be too…" She trailed off.

"Too…?"

Arrogant, she thought. I thought he'd be too arrogant to do his own laundry. "….Busy. I thought Tsuruga-san would be too busy."

Kuon leaned forward, putting his chin on his elbow and then gave her another look. "So what were you really going to say?"

"Ummm…." Why is he looking at me like that? she thought.

"Hmmmmm?"

"...You always seemed so arrogant!" she exclaimed.

He gave her a pout. "Tsuruga-san likes to clean, too. And he washes dishes. We both do."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just because he does the things any grown person should be able to do doesn't make him a good person, Kuon. And it doesn't mean that Tsuruga-san isn't arrogant."

"Ahhh you're so hard on poor Tsuruga-san!"

"Poor Tsuruga-san? Tsuruga-san is the sun the showbiz world revolves around! He's the 'sexiest star all women want to be embraced by!' Even Sho had to acknowledge that, and Sho is a narcissist who can't stand acknowledging anyone else's superiority!"

"You know...you've said that twice. So...does that mean you think Tsuruga-san is sexy too?"

She choked on the green tea she had just been drinking, coughing and sputtering as Kuon grinned at her.

"Kuon-!"

"So you DO think Tsuruga-san is sexy."

Kyoko blushed beet red. "I think"...(cough)..."Tsuru"...(cough splutter)..."ga-san's appearance…" (cough cough) "is suitable..." (cough wheeze)..."for the profession he has chosen."

"Uh huh."

He offered her a napkin. She took it.

"But sometimes he dresses in odd things."

"Odd things?!"

"There was this one suit he was wearing the other day. It had all these button loops on the side of it, but no buttons."

"Ahh. That one. From the Dark Moon special. Yeah, I thought it was weird, too."

"Then why did you wear it?"

"I'm under contract with the designer, unfortunately. He's been 'going in a new direction' with the R. Mandy line." He was grinning at her. "But you DID notice, huh. So you WERE watching me."

"I was not! Yayoi-san was watching the special."

"It's ok." He took a bite of toast. "I think you're cute, too, Kyoko."

The things he says! she thought, as her skin flamed red. Does he even know what he's doing? He might be Corn, but he can't be this irresponsible! "You...you are awful, Kuon."

"No. Just honest. For once." He was looking at her earnestly but she just took another bite of breakfast and said…

"You know, Japanese people are a lot more modest than Americans, Kuon. You shouldn't say these things. People will get the wrong idea."

"I mean-"

"Anyway!" Kyoko interrupted him before he could go any further. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

Does she not see me as a man? he thought. Out loud, he said, "Yes! I did...but Kyoko-"

"I really wanted to figure out why you didn't like the earlier breakfasts the kitchen made you...so I went and asked who was preparing them, and I do think they were adding too much salt. It was one of the more inexperienced line cooks…"

Kuon stared as she babbled on, not able to get a word in edgewise. Could it be that she won't accept my admiration? he thought. She seems so nervous…

"...so I will have to talk to Chef-san about it so that we don't have over-seasoned breakfast food again. It would put our Michelin star in danger! A restaurant must be consistent in its quality, always doing its best to please its customers…"

I just don't want to scare her off.

"...and anyway, I want to make sure that while you're here we can make sure that you eat well. So you'll have to tell me the things you like to eat. At some point maybe you'd like to try our full kaiseki dinner, because you haven't had that yet while you've-"

I guess I only have Ren to blame for putting me here...she used to talk to me as Corn so easily...

"...been here. It's really great, we really put a lot of effort into making sure each dish is fresh and seasonal and expertly prepared...we have Chef on the premises for the dinner service, so it won't be like the breakfasts...And he's a much better cook tha-"

"Kyoko." She stopped mid-sentence. "Why are you so nervous?"

"Me? I'm not nervous, I was just concerned about-"

"It's ok. Listen...you don't have to worry so much about my eating. I promise I'll eat. I'll eat anything you put in front of me. Even if it's salty. Even if it wasn't you who made it."

She stilled and a small smile appeared. Ah. Good, Kuon thought. Maybe she won't hide behind a wall of babble.

"And," he continued, "now that I'm not Hizuri-ojii-sama anymore, I think I'd like to start looking around? Maybe hike some more?"

"That's a great idea! We can also organize tours for you, if you want. The ryokan has a lot to offer, and we're so close to the bamboo forests that it's a pretty easy walk…"

"Kyoko," he said again. She's going to go off on another lecture if I don't stop her. "I was wondering...would you like to come with me to the Gion Matsuri? Tonight?"

"Certainly. I have never been a tour guide for the ryokan, but I'm certain I can help out."

"No...not as my tour guide. Just you being you." Kuon gave her a hopeful look. "Please?" he said.

"OK," she said, smiling uncertainly.

They finished the food, and he was glad he ate everything. She seemed so happy that he liked the omelette she prepared. He insisted on helping her clear the plates after breakfast, but she refused to allow him to help her bring them back to the kitchen. "It is one thing to make me eat breakfast with you, Kuon, but entirely another thing to interfere with bringing these down."

"Interfere?!"

"Just so. Have you ever heard of any hotel that would let its guest carry down their room service dishes? Besides, you have a secret identity to maintain."

When she left the room, he ran his fingers through his hair. And then went frantically looking for the yukata he hoped he had packed.

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A few hours later, Kuon stood in a dark indigo-colored yukata, watching Kyoko move towards him in the lobby. His breath caught. She had her hair pinned up, wearing a pink yukata patterned with nadeshiko. He stepped towards her and she smiled.

"You're in a yukata! I was wondering if you had one."

"I am," he said. "I don't even know why I packed it, but...Shall we?"

He held out his arm and they were off.

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And then they were in the old town of Kyoto. The world melted into lights and darks like bokeh on a camera lens. A million smells rose from the city, a million voices, bells, flutes, and then the rhythm of the taiko overwriting their heartbeats with its own. They felt the drums in the tips of their very fingers. They alighted at Shijo Street. The Gion Matsuri was in full swing on a yoiyama day, and the streets were closed to traffic and filled with yukata-clad revelers. The yamaboko floats were lit in their full glory, standing tall over the milling crowd.

Kuon laughed into the night and the sound of it took flight and disappeared into the din as he took Kyoko's hand to lead her into the fray.

Clack-clack-clack went Kyoko's geta as he pulled her down crowded streets made more narrow by vendors. Everything delighted him-the yatai stands, the pinwheels, plushies, candied apples. Fortunes were being drawn by shrine maidens and handed to housewives as tourists bargained for souvenirs.

He'd seen this matsuri scene before. He'd filmed them, too. The setup was always the same. Two people in yukata, a boy and girl, an evening ending in fireworks. In his memories, a matsuri was a soundstage set with a block or two of extras and stalls selling fake yakisoba and fake takoyaki, more extras milling about to create the illusion of a crowd. And as soon as the director yelled 'cut!', the crowd would disperse, the vendors would leave their fake food on their fake burners and he'd take himself back to his dressing room for the next scene. But tonight there were no cameras, no mic boom hovering over his head. No actresses making eyes at him. No fangirls chasing him while screaming some other man's name. He felt like a boat caught in the storm-just another tourist, one face in a crowd full of foreigners and Japanese alike, cheek-by-jowl with the joyous throng, free to run amok if he wanted.

Free to hold a girl's hand if he wanted.

He looked over at that girl and gave her a lopsided smirk. She was faintly blushing in the amber light of the festival, looking vaguely uneasy as she held onto his hand. He had grabbed it on an impulse as they'd woven through the crowds and she'd allowed it with a small murmur of protest.

"I'll get lost, Kyoko-chan," he'd said in response. "And then maybe someone might recognize me if you don't distract them." It was a flimsy excuse, though it was true that holding her hand kept his long gait from outstripping her shorter steps. His height meant that she took two steps for each one of his. He surmised she'd allowed it because he'd acted like it was a casual thing for him. Or perhaps because she thought he'd ever let something so mundane as a crowd part them. It was a small victory, and he treasured the feel of her small hand in his.

They moved through the festival largely unmarked by passersby, though some saw them and thought them a handsome couple. Kuon was still taller than most, but the matsuri was so well-attended by foreigners that he was dismissed as just another tourist, albeit a very good-looking one.

Kyoko didn't really know what to make of her ojii-san-who-was-a-fairy-prince-who-was-not-a-fairy-but-was-in-fact-Tsuruga-Ren-but-not-really. The world had turned upside down. He was as enthusiastic as any American she'd ever seen. Was this really the Ren Tsuruga who'd thrown her out of LME? The Tsuruga-san she had met would surely never grin so widely. The Tsuruga-san who had given her his lying-gentlemanly-smile at the audition would surely not have forced her to take selfies at any given provocation...even over her protests that selfies were entirely unnecessary because she could take pictures of him posing and oh, why did he need her in that picture, too? And he would never have dragged her by the hand to every matsuri game, pointing at the prizes while scrutinizing her face in an effort to see which one piqued her interest. She spent a little while watching him shoot cork bullets out of a rifle and failing miserably to tip a stuffed bear over. She kept herself from giggling at the frustration on his face. After all, it would not do to laugh at his earnest efforts to win. But she had to stand on her tip-toes to drag him away by the scruff of his neck before he could give the pleased attendant another 1000-yen note.

"But Kyyyoooko I wanted to win you a bear!"

She'd laughed then, and answered his grin with her own.

"Kuon-you know they're rigged, right? And then we'd have to carry it all the way home. You shouldn't spend your money frivolously. They'll take all your money if you keep going on like that."

"Fortunately, I have lots of money."

"Kuon!"

"Kyoko!" he mocked. "OK, how about kingyo sukui, then? I can get you goldfish!"

She narrowed her eyes.

"Goldfish! Let's get goldfish. You can name him once we get one."

"There's a trick to those, you know..."

"Are you challenging me?"

"I know better than to challenge Japan's #1 actor, Kuon."

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

He was a child. And he was adorable.

Still, when he crouched low over the basin of goldfish, he'd made a huge SWOOP with the scoop...only resulting in tearing it. The goldfish escaped. Kyoko laughed. "I told you there's a trick to it...if you do it too quickly, the paper will tear and they'll just escape and you'll have to get another scoop."

"Ok, YOU do it, then."

Kyoko tried...and got two goldfish into her bowl on her first try. "See?" she said. "My class had a goldfish scooping stall at my middle school's cultural festival once."

"Teach me?"

He ruined two more scoops before he got the hang of it. Kyoko had sighed, taken his wrist, and guided his hand before he managed to get one. She didn't notice him smiling gently behind her as she talked him through the scooping. The stallkeeper did, though, and winked at him.

He proudly handed her a bag with the goldfish and she tucked it in with her kinchaku. "We'll bring it back to the ryokan," she said.

They wandered through the old town looking through the stores which were open late for the festival. He found that he loved watching her admire the things they saw, because Kyoto was full of expensive and exquisite things and Kyoko was not insensitive to beauty. And he wanted to spoil her silly-though she had dedicated herself to preventing him from doing just that for the evening. He had always been indifferent to the money he'd been stockpiling as Ren Tsuruga. Perhaps it was because he was also the child of wealth, and the trust fund established for him would have been more than enough even if he had never signed a single movie contract. He'd never really had a reason to spend any of it once his persona had been established. He had a well-furnished but sterile apartment that had been put together by a well-known interior designer out of a generic brief. He had clothes from modeling jobs. He had his car. But beyond that, Ren lived like a monk.

Kuon, though, was willing to burn his bank account into ashes to buy Kyoko whatever she wanted. It was too bad that she was more of a window-shopper. He watched her move through the stores, not really stopping until she came to a display of kanzashi. And then he noticed she wasn't wearing one. Kyoko moved on quickly, but not before Kuon could see that she had picked one up to admire it.

The shopkeeper was quickly handed a sum of money to pass the kanzashi over as quickly as possible while Kyoko had her back turned.

Now they were sharing a small plate of takoyaki as they watched a group of geisha perform nihon buyo. She had tried to pay for it and had been summarily shot down by a Kuon.

"But you've been paying for everything all night!"

"No, I'm your childhood friend Corn, Kyoko, and I'll be damned if you pay for anything tonight."

She'd grumbled, but he'd won the round.

"Three pieces of takoyaki is not dinner, Kuon. You'll need to eat a proper dinner."

"Hai, hai," he said. He took a bite. "Kyoko. Did you go often as a kid?"

She shook her head. "We were always so busy at the ryokan, so I always helped out instead. This is my first time at the Matsuri."

Part of him wanted to snarl in indignation. A girl, born and raised in Kyoto, never having had the chance to go to this festival? I'm sure Sho had plenty of chances, he thought darkly.

He sighed. "I've never really been to one, either. I've filmed the scenes, but I've never actually gone."

"Ehhhh?"

"It's hard to go as Ren. I didn't really have anyone to go with. And people recognize me, so it's hard to move around. And back then, back when I met you, mom and dad had the same problem. So I never really had the chance to go."

The great Ren Tsuruga has no one to go to a matsuri with? she thought. Doesn't he have friends?

"I'm sure plenty of people would go to a matsuri with Ren, Kuon," she said.

"Plenty of people would go with Ren," he responded, "but Ren didn't want to go with any of them."

He took the last piece of takoyaki from the tray she was holding. "Now say ahhhh…."

He held the takoyaki in front of her mouth while she sputtered.

"Hizuri-san-!"

"Oh ho ho. So I'm back to Hizuri-san? It's Kuon. Or Corn. Maybe Ren at some point."

"It would be improper for me to refer to my guest in such a familiar manner."

"I thought we'd decided we were friends?"

"But…you...we..."

"So you're changing your mind? We're not friends?" Am I being mean? he thought.

He gave her a plaintive look and she groaned. The puppy dog look was back. Grown men should not look like whimpering puppies. She had never been subjected to such an assault.

"Kuon...what...is...is this...is this...flirting?"

The amber light obscured the faint blush on his cheek, but he grinned and said, "Flirt? Me? Noooooo. I just want to feed Kyoko-chan the last takoyaki. Now say ahhhhhh…"

The takoyaki balanced precariously on the toothpick as she looked at him askance.

He wiggled it.

"I promise to eat a proper dinner, but only if you say ahhhh…"

"Bully."

The puppy dog eyes increased in intensity. "OK. I'll just go to bed after I snack on a candy apple on our way out…"

"Playboy!"

He gave her an impassive look, and then a tiny whimper.

That dissolved the last of her defenses. And then, finally, she said: "Ahhhhhh..."

Kuon grinned in triumph as she sheepishly ate the last takoyaki.

She was beet red.

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After dinner, they found themselves waiting for fireworks on the banks of the Kamo. Lanterns burned yellow on the ancient shops by the river walk, reflected in the swiftly running waters below; there was a clear sky above them and a moon rising. They sat quietly on the riverbank, enjoying a cool breeze off the water. The manic giddiness earlier had passed into quiet companionability.

She sighed in contentment. She had insisted on him choosing the restaurant and he'd gone straight to a diner serving hamburger steaks with egg.

"You remembered!" she'd said as their plates arrived.

"Of course I remembered. After you went through so much trouble finding the King of the Hamburger Kingdom, the very least I could do was find Kyoko-hime-sama a hamburger steak for dinner."

She attacked the plate with gusto as he laughed at the memory.

He'd won the battle over paying for dinner, as well.

And now they were sitting on the darkened river bank, listening to songs in the night. The sleeves of his yukata brushed against her own. The darkness was filled with the sound of distant laughter from others waiting for the fireworks to begin.

All of a sudden she was acutely aware of him.

Her hand was still in his. She could feel the length of his fingers surrounding her palm, feel the heat rising from his body. She felt as if she could see every hair on his head, every twitch of his mouth. The rest of the world faded into silence as the blood rushed through her ears.

It's like...a date, she thought, and then dismissed it. Surely Kuon can't be thinking of it as a date. He said so himself. We're childhood friends, after all. A man like him has women on two continents falling at his feet. I am a plain, boring woman who had the good fortune of meeting him when we were children. It is kindness. That is all.

But why is he still holding my hand? she thought. She tried to gently extract it from his, only to have the trap close over her fingers. She blushed-how many times had she blushed tonight?- avoiding his eyes. He gave a quiet snort and began moving her hand to his lips on instinct and then she blurted out-

"Is this an American 'thing,' Kuon?"

Ahhh foiled, he thought. "What do you mean?"

"This," she said, gesturing at their hands.

"Yes."

She gave him a suspicious look.

"OK, well. Maybe not really. But I was hoping it would be a Kuon and Kyoko thing."

"Playboy."

"Never!" he mocked.

"Playboy!" She stuck her tongue out at him and he had the worst urge to kiss her.

He settled for running his thumb across her knuckles before trapping her thumb as she tried to extricate her hand again.

"Thumb war!"

"Not fair!" she said. His thumb easily overpowered hers as he laughed.

Her eyes met his as her blush deepened. I didn't really want him to let go, she admitted to herself.

She hasn't stopped blushing all night, he thought. An idea came to him, and he mulled over it for a second before thinking, It's now or never. His heart was racing out of his chest.

"Hey, isn't the ground damp?" he asked.

"Maybe a little," she said. "I should have remembered to bring us something to sit on. Are you very uncomfortable?"

"Ah. I'm fine. But...we can't have you sitting on damp ground, can we?" He moved as quickly as he could, releasing her hand and then lifting her onto his lap.

She squawked. "Kuon-!"

Her reaction freaked him out. Oh god, please don't let me be wrong about this one, he thought. I may have seriously fucked up...oh god please don't scare her off don't scare her off don't scare her off...Why did I do this? I should've just kept holding her hand...she's going to leave and I'm never going to see her again...

"Comfy?" he barely managed to croak out. His arms had come around to encircle her waist as she squirmed. "It's drier than the ground. And probably softer, too," he said.

"But...you...I...what?!..." Her heart felt like it would leap out of her mouth.

Have I broken her? he thought.

"Shhhhhhhh." He tightened his arms around her. "Comfy?" he asked again.

Just then the fireworks started, illuminating their faces in brilliant flashes of gold. She read the real question in his eyes.

Will you stay? they asked her.

She could feel his body now, corded muscle under his yukata. He was cradling her, her side flush against his chest. His large hands encircled her waist, his breath was on her hair. She was in free fall, her body half in agony, half in hope, and everything ablaze. She breathed in his scent, kyara wood and the faint smell of sweat over clean skin, and settled a hand on his chest to balance herself. It was intoxicating.

She could feel his heart racing, and that did it.

He closed his eyes as he felt her body ease into his. Her head nuzzled into his shoulder and he felt rather than heard her say Yes. The tension in his body released as his right hand found hers and their fingers entwined, and everything in him said finally, finally, finally. And as the fireworks bloomed and then died in bursts of red, green, and gold, they reveled in each other like two broken halves made whole.

They stayed on the river bank, holding each other long after the last sparks had faded into black.

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The sound of cicadas accompanied them as they arrived at the ryokan. Kuon had insisted on rowing the boat, refusing any argument from Kyoko, who argued that she should do it, being ryokan staff. The moon had risen.

She'd stopped protesting when he reached for her hands. His heart thrilled at the little victory.

Entering, he let go of her hand before turning to her. This would be the end of their evening. She stood in the ordinary light of the lobby, back straight, shoulders squared as she gave him a perfect bow.

He moved towards her, swiftly, as she straightened. "Wait."

And ever so gently, he placed the kanzashi he had bought in her hair. His hand lingered long enough to smooth an errant lock that had escaped her bun back into place behind her ear. His fingers traced along her jaw, his thumb briefly caressing the line of her lips. She was frozen in emerald eyes fixed onto her amber ones as he stepped back...and again there was distance between them.

A thrill moved through her body and settled between her legs as she lost herself in the emperor of the night.

After an eternity, he broke their gaze, closed his eyes, and returned her bow.

"Kyoko-" I think I love you, he thought. But he said, instead, "Oyasuminasai."

"Oyasumi," she returned. She wasn't sure she'd spoken loudly enough over the sound of her heart.

And then they parted for the evening, he to the east wing and she to the west.

It was a while before either one of them fell asleep.

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Author's notes:

First off, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading. Your comments really encourage me!

Sometimes I feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew. The care and feeding of an alternate timeline feels really intimidating. I wasn't satisfied with how the last chapter ended...as a reader-friend pointed out, ending it with them just deciding to be friends seemed hurried. So I began this chapter with a little bit of an exploration of the aftermath of that declaration.

1. Lots of stuff about the Gion Matsuri on the Google Sensei - it's an annual Kyoto event. The Gion Matsuri is celebrated throughout the month of July. I wasn't initially planning on sending them there, but then got inspired by Volume 44's cover. And I had already set the story in July, so it seemed like it would make sense for them to go together. Also, I figured Kuon would be bored to death if he couldn't leave the ryokan. This evening is meant to be around the July 23rd time-frame, closer to the end of the month and right before the second big parade. Yamaboko are the festival floats that you often see in Gion Matsuri photographs with all the people pulling them along on ropes.

2. A note about yukata: generally an unlined summer kimono-type garment, commonly worn to festivals. Yukata are often made of cotton (or polyester, or other easily washable fabric). Geta are the preferred footwear for yukata, usually made of wood. Sometimes you see the kind with the two 'teeth' that kinda looks like a slab of wood on two pylons (hiyori geta), or the kind that maiko wear with the platform (pokkuri geta, or okubo), but I think Kyoko's wearing the more modern kind that resembles wooden flip-flops. Kinchaku bags are the little drawstring bags one generally carries around with the yukata. Nadeshiko is 'fringed pink' in English. I can't tell what kind of flower Kyoko has on her yukata (it's possible they are nadeshiko, but the edges don't look fringed enough, and nadeshiko tend to be fairly stylized on yukata whenever I see them. I guess they could also be hibiscus? Or anemone?), but I figured the nadeshiko was a good one for her anyway (as it generally symbolizes 'pure Japanese femininity').

3. Kanzashi are traditional hair accessories. There's quite a few different kinds, including floral ones that are made from tiny squares of silk folded into petal forms (tsumami kanzashi - soooo many good examples of this on Etsy). There are also ones that are made of silver, lacquered wood, and, in the past, tortoiseshell. The one Kuon buys Kyoko is silver and features a lotus flower, but more on that in the next chapter. She's wearing a tsumami-kanzashi style one in the Volume 44 cover.

4. Are these notes helpful? Are they insufferable? Should I stop?

5. I am of two minds about the goldfish. She has them in the Volume 44 picture, but the idea of carrying goldfish around in a bag just seems so...cruel to goldfish. I assure you these fictional goldfish will survive into the next chapter, at least, but I do worry about goldfish in bags in general. The Google says they survive 7-9 hours in there, and up to two days if it's a particularly oxygen-rich bag. But assuming Kyoko and Kuon got to the festival around 6 pm and maybe got the goldfish around 8 pm, they probably wouldn't get back to the ryokan until after midnight. Which cuts it close for the goldfish. Gahhhh.

Live, little goldfish, LIVE!

6. Kuon's cologne and Kyoko's perfume - I probably spent too long thinking about what these two smell like. I'm kinda a huge perfume nerd, so please forgive me for going on this personal headcanon tangent. For Kuon, I decided he'd be wearing Comme des Garcons Wonderwood. Comme des Garcons is a Japanese fashion label known for avant-garde design, and particularly for avant-garde perfume. Before everyone had an indie niche label, they were promoting perfumes with names like Odeur 53 and Odeur 71 featuring 'notes of dust on a lightbulb.' Wonderwood is this wonderfully woody, warm scent that isn't flashy but would smell sexy af on a dude like Kuon. Kyara (also known as oud, agarwood, or aloeswood) is a note in the Wonderwood cologne, but is also something that's been used for centuries as part of Japanese incense-making. Nippon Kodo still makes incense using aloeswood today. It has a very distinct scent, and was super trendy around 2015. It's still kinda trendy right now, but less so.

As for our girl Kyoko...I know she had a thing for Royal Snow/Odette. The bottle for Royal Snow is a doppelganger for a perfume released by Avon in the 1970s called "Royal Swan," and there were several iterations of Royal Swan with different colored swan bottles. I don't know what Royal Swan smells like, though I see you can still find vintage bottles on the Bay of E. BUT...you're going to have to forgive me for this...BUT! I haaaaaaaaaaaaate the Royal Swan bottle. The real-life bottle, that is, not the manga Royal Snow/Odette bottle. It looks like cheap pressed glass. I looked at other ballet-themed fragrances out there, but nothing quite 'fit.' There's a somewhat obscure niche brand called The Vagabond Prince that has a perfume named 'Swan Princess,' but I have smelled 'Swan Princess' and I think the stuff smells like baby powder on steroids. Penhaligon's also has a ballet-themed fragrance named 'Iris Prima,' but it's got this dry, vetiver-ish quality to it that also doesn't fit Kyoko. I tend to think Kyoko would wear something more classically structured, but light. I have more of an idea of things that she WON'T wear than things that she will. I don't think she'd like fragrances with a heavy amber or patchouli base, for example, or fragrances that are over-the-top sweet. I could see her wearing 'Enchanted Forest,' which is another one of The Vagabond Prince's perfumes. It smells like blackberries and the forest, which I think would be great for Kyoko, but it does tend to be a little bit heavier than I think she'd prefer. So when it came down to picking something for her, I thought she'd like wearing L'Artisan Parfumeur's La Chasse aux Papillons, which is floral, a little sweet, and diaphanous.

[end tangent. sorry.]