As always, Skip Beat and affiliated characters are the property of Yoshiki Nakamura.
Sho Fuwa was no stranger to being stuck in tight quarters with a sexy woman.
Those situations had kept him pleasantly busy in the past and had left little room for talking, which was fine by him. In a choice of what he'd rather have filling his mouth, feminine assets won over words, hands down (and hands were always always down). Discussion was overrated anyway, he'd thought, but even talking was currently off the table. The woman sitting across from him was locked up tighter than a bank vault. Midori Lin hadn't deigned to glance his direction once after their brief interaction–her green gaze had remained affixed to the window. An impenetrable wall of silence surrounded her, leaving Sho stuck in the van with nothing but his churning thoughts as company as they traveled to an undisclosed destination.
Sho couldn't help but wonder what had her so preoccupied. It had to be something unpleasant because the aura she was emitting surpassed the AC's chilly air.
Though they'd shared a connection, Midori obviously had hang-ups. Part of it was probably thanks to Pochi. Some women didn't give a damn about female solidarity, but Sho knew Midori wasn't the backstabbing, only-kind-to-your-face type. During their shared time on the stage he felt like he'd gotten a glimpse of Midori's soul and it was as breath-taking as her appearance. She'd mentioned that Kizuna no Kiseki was one of her favorites songs. Her sincerity and passion as she sang the words of loyalty and love during their duet was obvious.
Damn. Why does she have to be in the same group as Mimori Nanokura? For once, he wanted to talk, though he wouldn't have turned down other activities either. Why was it that the women he found interesting, women who weren't empty inside, had circumstances that made them despise him in some way?
The van made a sharp turn onto Bayshore Route, jostling him from his thoughts. Sho began fearing it would continue across the bay to DayJowey Land, but it mercifully turned again not long after the sight of the red and white ferris wheel rising high over Kasai Rinkai Park came into view and he huffed a sigh of relief.
His relief was short-lived.
Through the window a sprawling multicolored padded monstrosity came into view, partially obscured by a tall fence surrounding it. It looked about the length of a couple of football fields. Plastered on the side of the fence were the words: Shark Infested Waters: Celebrity Edition!
What the heck is this? His brain took a moment to absorb the outrageous sight. An ocean-themed obstacle course? Naturally it had to have something to do with sharks again. Does that dude have some sort of weird fetish or what? [Lory Tarakada had, in fact, participated in what he referred to as a "heart-pounding" and "moving" swimming with sharks experience a few weekends prior].
There was a high platform with an attached slope leading down to what Sho could only guess because he couldn't see more from his vantage point. With Takarada as the organizer, it's likely a slope leading to Hell. Further down the course he saw another high platform next to four giant red balls and a tall walkway with a zipline leading to a thick circular rotating pad that appeared to have sea creature shapes cut out of it.
Sho slowly shook his head in disbelief, running a hand over his face. He felt a sudden headache coming on.
He glanced at his fellow passenger. Midori didn't seem the least bit surprised.
The van rounded a corner and stopped at a gated entry. Sho heard Shoko speaking to someone and after a moment, the vehicle continued on.
"Did you know we were headed here?" Sho asked, breaking the icy silence. Midori was too polite to ignore him completely and he was too curious to avoid asking the question.
She let out a faint sigh, slowly swiveling to look at him. "Yes," came her cold, clipped reply. It shouldn't have bothered him considering they'd known each other all of a couple of hours—but it did.
The van came to a complete stop and the engine cut off. Before Sho had a chance to ask anything else, Midori slipped out the door Shoko opened for them. Abominable clothing tucked under one arm, Sho followed after her, stepping out into the warmth of the late morning sun.
Shoving down the instinct to chase after the J-Pop star, Sho turned his attention to Shoko.
Her shoulder-length hair blew gently in the light breeze as she gazed at him with equal parts longing, hurt, and expectation. He wished he could take everything back, every nasty word and action, but since changing the past was impossible the least he could do, in the present, was not make her wait any longer.
"Shoko, I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking away. "I was angry and frustrated and lost my temper but that's no excuse for what I did or what I said." He shook his head, mouth twisting into a self-deprecating smile as he continued staring at the ground, voice toned low so that it was almost a whisper. "The radio was right. My pride was wounded."
Shoko didn't hear the latter part of his words, but the shame written all over his face and the sorrow in his voice was enough. "I forgive you," she said as she stepped forward, gently placing a hand on his arm until he brought his gaze back to her face. Her smile was genuine and warm. "I was angry for a while I admit, but that bled away to disappointment–for you and myself. As your manager, I bear some of the blame."
"No, that's not–" Sho began, only to be cut off.
"I should have been able to help you." Her voice was fierce, past frustration evident. "But I could only watch as you sank further into the depths." Sho grimaced. "Especially because I'd coddled you for so long."
Sho couldn't argue against it. Attempt number one at doing his own laundry had led to half of his favorite shirts looking like they belonged in Rufio's closet. But he couldn't stand that she thought any of it was her fault. He's the one who had insisted his manager handle the day to day minutiae.
"Don't blame yourself Shoko," he said, tucking a wayward strand of satiny hair behind her ear. "You did everything you could. I'm sorry I was an ass."
"Me too," she smiled wryly, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze before releasing him. "Of course this doesn't mean you're moving back in."
Sho rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's fine." Honestly, he'd gotten tired of having to fool around at women's homes anyway so it was for the best for more than one reason. And if he became truly desperate he would hire a maid to clean and require an NDA to ensure his privacy.
Reconciliation concluded, Shoko made her way to where the other competitors were gathered with Sho trailing behind, scanning the terrain as he walked. Water lying below the obstacles was expected given the name of the show. What wasn't anticipated was the muddy put lying adjacent to the second obstacle. Never had Sho Fuwa ever suffered a splatter with a single drop of mud, let alone gone swimming in a pool of it. He'd have to be extra careful with that one–no way it was the type of mud that would beautify his skin.
Although…Sho's mind conjured an image of Midori in a matching little shorts and tee set, clothes clinging to her slick, shapely body. That's one fine reason in its favor. But Sho couldn't stand the idea that other guys would see her too.
He was still frowning at the thought when they arrived at a building resembling a manufactured home. A lavish one at that. L.M.E. had spared no expense. As usual. Kyoko had been really lucky he'd driven her to sign up with that agency.
Shoko gestured towards the building. "Here's the competitor's lounge. You can change and relax inside until it's your turn," she said. "As I'm sure you've already surmised, you'll be competing against fellow celebrities." Sho opened his mouth to ask if there were any that he knew besides Midori, but Shoko, who had already read his face, shot him a sly smile and answered his yet-to-be-spoken question. "There are a few individuals with whom you are familiar. You'll see."
Judging by the look on her face, Sho was certain he wasn't going to like some of the people in there. "Great," he muttered.
Her smile widened. "Yes, I believe it will be," she said. Her expression turned solemn. "Sho, the top three fastest course runners will have sizable donations made to the charities of their choice." He noticed her fingers tightening their grip on her purse as she studied him intently. "It would be excellent PR for you to place in the top three."
He knew she was worried about him and with good reason–his reputation had taken a big hit, no matter what he tried to claim. Akatoki wouldn't have a target on his ass if the situation were otherwise.
"Consider it done." Sho flashed her a smile that held more confidence than he actually felt. "I am Fuwa Sho after all." How difficult could it be right?
"Please do." Her lips pressed lightly against his cheek. "Good luck Sho."
"Thanks." He was relieved that things were normal between them again, that he hadn't damaged their relationship irreparably as he had feared.
"All right, you'd better get in there and I'm one of the hosts so I need to get going too. I'll be speaking with contestants before and after their runs."
Sho blinked in surprise. "Okay. See you."
She gave him a final wave and headed off. He stood there a bit, watching her go and wondering why he felt like a kid whose mom had just dropped him off for his first day of school. How ridiculous.
Sho straightened, stepping onto the covered porch and opened the door.
The musician found himself in a large foyer. The murmur of voices and laughter tickled at his ears. A bench seat with labeled shoe cubbies, about half of which still contained slippers, was situated against the right wall. It would seem that he was among the first to arrive. Bathrooms and a coat closet were directly off the foyer. He found his name and swapped his expensive shoes for slippers. The entry opened up to a common room with comfy couches straight ahead and a kitchen with a dining space to the left. Several doors labeled "dressing room" were located on the far wall, past the seating area.
Words, their ebb and flow and tones, made their own kind of music that Sho let wash over him as he moved further in. He spotted Midori seated on a black leather couch. An unknown male who appeared to be a model or actor type was standing nearby, loudly chatting up a couple of cutely dressed girls seated on a loveseat. One of the girls looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite remember what he'd seen her in. All of them wore activewear. The polite conversation he waded past reminded him of pop music–catchy, but shallow.
Their gazes met and she looked away, fidgeting and angling her body so their eyes wouldn't lock again. It looked like she was waiting for someone. As that thought flitted through his mind, one of the dressing room doors on the back wall opened revealing Mimori Nanokura, hair in pigtails, wearing a t-shirt and shorts set and thigh high white socks.
Sho stiffened. Shit. A little warning would have been nice Shoko! Wait, Sho sucked in a deep breath, I haven't done anything wrong. Their arrangement had been one of mutual give and take. I told that chick I don't belong to her long ago. It wasn't his fault she wanted more than what he had offered. This feeling wasn't guilt, it was just awkwardness from being around a woman who liked to pretend Fuwa Sho belonged to her.
Refusing to feel like the villain of the story, Sho headed towards Mimori. From the corner of his eye, he could swear he saw a flash of pain dance across Midori's beautiful face, but it was gone in an instant.
"Hey Pochi." Mimori stared open-mouthed at Sho Fuwa, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "Surprised to see you here."
He closed the gap between them, reaching down to nudge the gentle curve of her chin up to close her mouth. She blinked at him and came out of the stupor, her lips pushing outward into a very feminine expression.
"Sho," she pouted.
In the past he hadn't minded when she had grabbed his arm, pressing her titillating assets against him, but neither of them were teenagers anymore and he'd long outgrown her unfounded possessiveness. So when she attempted to glomp onto him, he nimbly side-stepped out of her reach. She looked a little hurt, but still looked up at him with large, eager puppy eyes.
"I'm so happy to see you! I signed up for this with one of the girls in my group a month ago," Pochi said.
Her group eh? Mimori cut a sexy figure, but she was just another star, shining dimly, indiscernible among the masses in a midnight sky. Midori Lin on the other hand, with her ethereal looks and instantly recognizable talents, blazed at the forefront like a star gone supernova. Frankly, he was surprised Midori hadn't gone solo already.
And a month ago? Am I that predictable?
"I'm really glad I did!" Pochi beamed, eyes lingering on the well-defined muscles visible through his clothes. "But why do I only see you when we're working?" she began whining. "I haven't been with you in so long. I couldn't even see you on your birthday."
Sho shrugged. "We work for the same agency, Pochi," he said, putting a little steel into his voice, "and we're friends, but I'm a busy guy."
Unfortunately for her, they were co-workers who had found each other attractive and acted on it occasionally.
"But I thought…" she trailed off, pausing to look around, to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, eyes brimming with hope. "I thought once she was out of the way, we could finally be more."
The girl's instinct had been correct that he'd harbored more than friendship for Kyoko, though he had vehemently denied it at the time. However, Pochi never realized that their relationship was unaffected by his feelings for his childhood friend. Shoko had warned him this would happen. His manager had told him he was toying with the girl's feelings because "that girl was too stupid to realize she was being used." He'd argued that it didn't matter because Pochi was using him too. It was mutual. He'd never once asked the girl to make him a bento or stop by the studio to visit or give him chocolates on Valentine's Day. The times he had asked for her help were either for work like during PV shoot or to keep an eye on Kyoko, the former boosting her career and the latter involving more intimate forms of compensation.
Sho let out a long sigh. I don't want to have to deal with this.
Maybe it would be better to take her by the wrist and talk in the dressing room she'd vacated, but he didn't want to give Pochi or Midori the wrong idea.
"Mimori-san," he said in a cold voice, leveling a frozen gaze at her upturned face. She flinched. "There is no we. You and I have never been more than friends and colleagues. You and I will never be more." She backed up a step, tears pooling in her eyes. "I have never and will never belong to you."
Fat, sorrowful drops flooded down her face. "You're the worst!" she cried and fled back into the dressing room.
Part of him was shocked she'd said something negative to him, but mostly he felt annoyed. The girl always cried when she didn't get her way. Hopefully the editors would cut that footage. He uttered a low curse, running a hand through his hair as he thought about how much of a pain in the ass it could turn out to be.
Oh well, he thought bitterly, no sense in agonizing over it now.
Unsurprisingly, all other conversation had died at Mimori Nanokura's outburst. Sho glanced around. The unknown guy looked quizzical while the girls the dude had been flirting with were shooting daggers at him with their eyes. He rubbed at his temples.
This is what I get for not dealing with this sooner.
Sho went into the room a couple doors down from Pochi to change his clothes, noting how each item was a sickeningly perfect fit. He cringed as he caught sight of himself in the mirror on the way out. If only the damn meggings were a dark color instead of pink, he wouldn't feel like a fucking ballerina. But it could have been worse–the black on the shirt and shorts somehow prevented him from looking (and feeling) completely emasculated. No doubt there'd be some interesting reactions to his attire, but he didn't think anyone would give him too much crap about it.
By the time he left the room, more competitors had arrived and Midori had moved to the round table in the small dining area where she nursed a bottle of water. Pochi had yet to emerge from her room. She was probably fixing her ruined make-up.
As Sho made his way to the kitchen, he let his eyes wander and recognized an actress who had arrived while he was changing. The woman's eyes widened when she spotted him and she came over. Musicians and actors didn't have much opportunity to mingle.
"It's nice to see you again Fuwa-san," Itsumi Momose greeted warmly. She stared intently at his attire, pausing briefly on his tattooed arm before returning her gaze to his face.
With her average chest, she had never quite been Sho's type, but he had discovered she was a kind and considerate girl from the time Kyoko had been cast as Mio in Dark Moon. A lot of celebrities turned rotten when they reached the top, but she seemed the same as back then and Sho was glad of it.
"Hello Momose-san," Sho replied. "It's been a while."
Silence hung awkwardly between them and Sho floundered for something else to say.
Momose beat him to it. "Are you playing for a women's cancer charity?"
It was a reasonable assumption considering how the actress knew the musician was not affiliated with L.M.E. but it still made Sho's face twitch.
"Probably." It sounded more like a question because he hadn't a damn clue what charity they'd chosen for him. But he knew how he looked—like a blonde walking, talking breast cancer awareness ribbon fringed with black.
Her brow furrowed with confusion before she quickly smoothed her expression. "Oh, well…will you be participating in the wedding?"
Of course Sho knew whose imminent nuptials she was referring to. Now that he thought about it, Kyoko had mentioned something about him fulfilling some kind of role, but he'd been too drunk at the time to remember. Had she asked him to sing at her wedding?
"Uh…that's still being worked out."
"Oh…I see. Schedule permitting, I hope to see you there." She smiled at him brightly and bowed again, excusing herself to speak with others. He wished her luck with the competition.
Yeah, that wasn't awkward at all.
He glanced over again at Midori. The guy who'd been flirting with the other girls now seemed to be making a pass at her too and she didn't seem appreciative. He stalked towards them.
"Number six," a familiar male voice taunted, halting Sho in his tracks. He pivoted and found himself face to face with a snickering Hiromune Koga.
Overseas, the men had a couple drinks together in commiseration of their dislike of a certain unreasonably tall handsome actor and had since been in competition over the ranking on home turf. Turned out they were also admirers of each other's work. Not that either would actually admit that when sober.
"That's a good look for you Fuwa-san." Sho gave him a vulgar gesture and Koga's grin widened. "Especially the itty bitty shorts with the leggings."
"They're called meggings," Sho corrected, causing the other man to shake with barely restrained laughter.
Might as well have some fun with this. Gods knew Sho Fuwa had seen enough insecure women in his time to flawlessly imitate one.
Sho turned to the side and looked down at himself before meeting the actor's gaze again. "Do…do they make me look fat?"
"Dude, bffft!" Koga sputtered and the dam broke. Cackling, the actor clutched at his sides. While he struggled to regain control of himself Sho asked how it felt to finally be number one.
Koga immediately sobered, dramatically stretching out his arms and raising them to the heavens as he proclaimed, "Long overdue!"
Sho rolled his eyes and shook his head at his theatrics. "Don't get used to it. I'm gonna kick your ass here in a bit."
Koga snorted. "Bruh, I can't take you seriously when you look like that."
"Don't worry," Sho retorted, patting Koga on the shoulder. "Disbelief has zero effect on truth." With a final wave, he stepped past Koga with a muttered, "Later," and headed towards the woman with whom he was intent on speaking.
The guy was still there. He was taller than the average Japanese male and handsome the way a model or actor would need to be, with a reasonably fit figure, but Sho was confident he outclassed him in every way possible.
As he approached, he heard him trying to butter Midori up by saying how much he loved some Lucky-M song and how Midori was his favorite and how he loved that her name meant green like the color of her beautiful eyes. She was smiling but those beautiful green eyes were devoid of warmth. Sho was glad she wasn't fooled by the smarmy smooth-talker. A more naive girl–like Kyoko had been in the past–would have been duped for sure, but in fairness, Midori was older too.
Good thing this asshole isn't a musician.
Mr. Unknown was in the middle of a sentence when Sho plopped down on the chair between them, surprising the two and interrupting their very one-sided conversation by asking Midori who her new friend was.
The dude stared at Sho for a few breaths, sizing him up, and answered instead. "I'm Kijima Hidehito, actor and model." He flashed perfect teeth as he rose from his chair. The name niggled at the back of Sho's mind. Kijima's smile was much too white as he added, "And you're the dude that made that poor Mimori Nanokura cry."
Sho stood and introduced himself. "Fuwa Sho, record-breaking, world renowned music artist." Kijima's eyes widened as took in the musician's full height. Clearly he hadn't expected the difference in stature.
Where the hell do I know this putz's name from? Something was telling him the name was significant, but he couldn't quite place it…
"As for Mimori-san, she's a friend and colleague who wanted to be more. I had to give her a firm no. Again." Sho shrugged.
Kijima's eyes flicked between Midori and Sho and he smiled knowingly, holding his hands up in a what's a guy to do gesture. "I see. Must be rough."
He turned his attention to Midori. "Nice meeting you," he said and excused himself.
It wasn't until Kijima had left that Sho realized how much his body had tensed up, like he'd been expecting a fight. Fortunately Kijima wasn't the confrontational type.
Sho turned to Midori. A bottle of water was being twirled between her fingers as she stared through the table like she could see past the wooden surface and beyond. He doubted anyone on the Earth had ever looked at a table so seriously. His mouth opened to ask what she was thinking about, but at that moment she looked up with a piercing gaze that cut through him, silencing his lips.
She abruptly stood and walked to the fridge, reaching inside. Peeking out from around the door, she asked, "You want one?" An item was in the palm of her hand. The bulb in the fridge drew a halo atop her head and Sho had a moment to wonder how that kept happening until he realized what she was holding. Pucchin pudding.
Sho's eyes lit up like the intersection just outside Shibuya Station. Have I died and gone to Heaven? Maybe she really is an angel. He reached his right hand across his body, took the flesh of his left arm between his fingers, and squeezed. Ow. Reality confirmed. Great Scott, if this woman appeared in a commercial, the Pucchin factories would run dry.
Noticing the desire in his eyes, minus the fact that it was partially due to her own presence, Midori grabbed two plates and spoons to go along with the snack and sat back down beside him. He thanked her and they each put their hands together as if to pray saying, "Itadakimasu!" in perfect synchronization.
After a shared laugh at their timing, Sho tried not to inhale the delicious treat too quickly. It had been far too long since he'd had one. Regardless, his plate was clean before her own. He had just finished chasing the snack with water when the atmosphere suddenly turned heavy.
Midori peered at him with fiery eyes. "Why didn't you tell Mimori-san all of that five years ago?" she asked, voice whispery soft.
It was spoken casually, but Sho had the distinct feeling that this conversation would determine the future of their relationship. If there was to be a relationship at all.
"I told her I didn't belong to anybody."
"Okay…you really don't get it, do you?" She sighed and brushed aside a few strands of hair that had become displaced. "You let her do things that normally only a significant other would do, right? And when you asked her to do certain things, you behaved in a way that only a significant other would too, did you not?"
Their past interactions played through his mind. The bentos, the chocolates, the wanting to see him one last time before leaving anywhere. The texts and phone calls. The way her eyes would sparkle when she saw him. The closeness of their bodies, the kisses in back rooms or other private spaces. The more-than kisses.
He crossed his arms, resting his elbows on the table. "I guess a lot of our interactions were the kinds of things that couples would do, but like I said, I made it clear I was not hers." He looked past her, at the door leading to where Pochi was hiding. "And yeah, I suppose I did ask for her help a couple times and she wanted a certain kind of reward," Sho didn't notice how Midori shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "But–"
"Did it never occur to you that she would do anything to please you?"
He returned his gaze to the woman in front of him. There had been another girl who fit that description…"Well, I knew she liked me, but didn't see the harm. We're young and we both got things we wanted."
"So you didn't realize you were using her feelings for your own benefit?"
Sho narrowed his eyes. "We both benefitted." If he hadn't become so fond of this incredibly gorgeous woman, he would have told her off already. But why am I feeling so defensive to begin with? Why did I feel guilty the moment I laid eyes on Pochi? Because that was absolutely what that feeling had been, now that he examined it.
"Perhaps. But at what cost?" Midori pressed. Her eyes seemed to cloud then, with an emotion Sho couldn't quite decipher, and her gaze turned downcast. "My…situation once was similar to Mimori-chan's. What I mistook for love was merely me being used as a tool." She swallowed hard and the feelings that briefly surfaced were buried away again as she looked directly into the icy blue sea of Sho's eyes. "Men and women are fundamentally different, Sho. You ought to know that by now. Think about it." She stood up, brushing past him as she walked over to Pochi's dressing room, filling his nose with the scent of vanilla and jasmine.
After rapping twice on the door, it opened and Midori disappeared inside.
As Sho grabbed another Pucchin (at this point his reputation was the last thing on his mind) and sat back down to do what Midori had requested, another contestant entered the building–a dude from a comedy show Sho was familiar with.
The musician ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling pissed off, partly from being lectured despite knowing she was trying to help, but also because of what Midori had revealed about herself. That someone had dared use her. Wait, was this how Tsuruga had felt about me and Kyoko? No wonder that guy hated my guts.
He recalled Shoko's warning that he was toying with Pochi. Mimori had wanted to please him; that's why he'd given her that nickname to begin with. But when he actually thought about her behavior…it was eerily akin to Kyoko's–before Sho had ditched her, just minus the chore stuff. It was true that women viewed relationships differently than men. Perhaps girls were simply far better at deceiving themselves. Some of the girls he'd fooled around with had been so angry when they discovered they weren't the only ones, despite having been flatly told that Sho Fuwa didn't belong to anyone. Perhaps they'd each hoped to be the exceptions to that rule. To be special, just like Mimori had wanted.
Damn.
Everything Mimori had done was to please him and Sho had used that knowledge, used her feelings, to get what he'd wanted. Her receiving something in return…it still hadn't made it right, not when he took advantage of how she felt.
With all that had gone on so far today, Sho couldn't decide whether it was the best day or the worst–he was mentally exhausted and it was only halfway through.
Contemplating answers to the questions running amok in his head, he scooped the last bit of glorious, deliciously bouncy custard from his plate, bringing it to his mouth as the front door swung open for the last participant. At the sight of the violet-eyed, platinum-haired male walking through, the spoon went slack in Sho's hand. The pudding slid off, splattering on the floor. Sho glared at the pudding splotch.
Shoving back his chair, he strode across the room to the entry. The comedian, who was chatting with some girl, saw him coming and quickly moved aside.
Sho loomed over Reino, arms crossed over his chest. "Yo. I thought we already established that you have no stamina, so what are you doing here?" Vie Ghoul's lead vocalist placed his tall black leather boots in a cubby, seemingly ignoring his rival. "Perhaps you're looking for round two?" He cracked his knuckles.
The corners of Reino's lips curled into a chilling smile. "No thank you, Fuwa." His voice was grim. He put on the slippers and stood. "I am here because I must be, not because I want to be. Believe me when I say you are the last person I wish to see. You remind me of her, the one fleshly woman in the world that I've ever wanted and the one woman I now can never have."
Sho's grin turned feral. He wanted nothing more than to beat the daylights out of the asshole again for daring to talk about Kyoko.
"My only consolation is that you don't get to have her either," Reino smirked.
Sho began to chant a mantra in his head, reminding himself why he couldn't wipe the floor with this loser. Reino leaned forward until his face was entirely too close, causing Sho to fight the urge to leap back.
"Pink is definitely your color, Fuwa," Reino chuckled in his ear.
Sho took half a step, body-checking Reino so that the man nearly tumbled over.
"Better watch your feet."
Reino brushed himself off. "Duly noted." The Vie Ghoul singer walked to the far side of the building, entering one of the changing rooms.
Pasting a genial smile on his face, Sho went to formally introduce himself to the other purgatorial participants.
(NOTE: Michika Kawagoe is the actress that Chidori and Kanae verbally roast alive on Vain Day.)
"A pulse-pounding adventure awaits," a male voice says as the camera quickly pans over the course.
"Hello Japan and welcome to Shark Infested Waters: Celebrity Edition! where ten celebrity contestants will compete head to soon-to-be-battered head on the most extraordinary, outrageously challenging obstacle course ever assembled."
The camera flashes briefly to the (mostly) wildly enthusiastic competitors before focusing on a man who smiles and winks into the camera.
"And all for the privileged chance of receiving a staggering seven million yen donation to the charity of their choice. But this prize is only for those who battle bravely, finishing with the top three fastest of times. I'm one of your hosts, comedian Kuri Kin, better known as Kuri-kinton for my shining good looks and radiantly golden personality," he says grinning as he runs a hand through his artificially blonde locks.
"Co-hosting this auspicious affair with me today is the lovely Aki Shoko," the camera switches to a dignified woman with a beautiful figure, "acting as our heels on the ground. She'll be introducing each of our contestants."
"That's right," Shoko's mouth curls into a sweetly seductive smile. " But, first let's review each obstacle these celebrities will be forced to tackle."
"Starting from the raised platform," the camera pans across, following Kuri-kinton's words, "contestants will slide their way down to confront the very first obstacle: Walking the Planks." Several horizontal padded "boards" are set up like stepping stones. "They must traverse these treacherous, sometimes collapsible planks or taste the pointy end of defeat in the deep blue sea.
"Next, these daring individuals will tangle with a legendary terror of the seas: the giant octopus in the Octo-Punch obstacle–only this one has far more than eight legs." About thirty curled up "tentacles" are shown randomly punching out from holes littering a wall with climbing holds attached for gripping one's way across a very narrow path. "And, ooh," the cameras zoom in on nozzles shooting black liquid, "watch out for that ink or you'll be in for some real dirty open water!"
"Third, our famous land-lubbers must bounce their way across the Jellyfish Jumper." Four massive red balls are placed in a line just above the water. "Will they succeed or will they succumb, like so many others, to the jaws of defeat?"
"And finally, the grand finale, the Sea-shape shifter! Celebrities will zipline their way above Davy Jones's locker to one of many sea-inspired cutouts. A successful landing will allow them to leap across to the victory platform, securing their time."
"Here with me now," says Shoko, "is the star of so so many romantic dramas, Kawagoe Michika."
"Hi everyone, it's me, Chika!" Michika says in a high, cutesy voice. Dressed in a white and navy sailor fuku (with little navy shorts underneath much to every male's chagrin).
"Michika-san is representing her role of Erika in the serial drama Finding Love in High School, which (somehow) remains running after six years."
"Yes! And I just finished recording for the soundtrack of the newest season of FLHS so please check it out!"
Shoko's smile manages to not look too disingenuous as she asks the ditzy young woman what charity she's playing for. After speaking briefly about the charity, JEN, Chika (self-titled) dons a gray life jacket, and heads to the starting platform.
"It's all for love!" Chika shouts, making a "V" with her fingers and bringing them to her lips to blow a kiss.
"And seven million," adds Shoko.
"That's right Shoko-san," Kuri-kinton says, "and with that much you could buy it–if the money wasn't already going to charity."
Chika tries staying on her feet as she slides down the slope, but finds herself unable to stop at the bottom and slides off the platform into the water.
"Our sailor girl, making a splash right off the bat," Kuri-kinton notes. "Let's hope she's more adept at traversing the seven seas than she's shown us so far."
Pulling herself back onto the walkway Chika begins a dainty jog up to the planks. She steps gingerly on the first and seeing that it holds her weight, hops to the next. But just as she places a foot on the fourth, it collapses.
"Aahh!" she screams and drops into the water.
She climbs back up to the second set of planks and decides to try a different tactic this time. With bent knees she sprints across, but not fast enough. Her feet fall out from under her as her head pitches forward, smashing her face directly into the next plank and once again, landing her in cool water.
"That looked like it hurt," Shoko says, wincing. "Let's watch it again in slow-mo." The footage replays at half speed, highlighting her glorious faceplant.
"Yeah, ouch! And doesn't she know she's not supposed to swab the deck with her face?"
Michika swims to the ladder and climbs back onto the walkway, heading for the second obstacle.
"Apparently she's one of the people who have to learn the hard way."
"Yes, and unfortunately there's no easy way to pass those punching tentacles."
Wiping wet strands of hair away from her eyes, Michika reaches for the first grip only to take a shot to the gut that sends her flying into the muddy pit. Spitting gunk from her dainty mouth, she slowly swim-wades her way out, leaving a trail of sludge in her wake.
"Let's see how our sea slug handles those big red balls."
"Don't you mean jellyfish?"
"Ah, yes. After all, only the very tops will keep you bouncing safely across."
Michika stops at the edge of the platform as though gathering the courage to attempt the leap onto the first ball. Unfortunately she doesn't notice the large, padded wedge-shaped "Motivator" swinging towards her because she's taking too long. Moments before it can send her flying she jumps onto the first red ball and somehow bounces straight up, high enough that the Motivator makes contact, spinning her around like a top.
"Oh my!" Kuri-kinton exclaims. "I never thought I'd be witness to a Sharknado event, but here we are, making history."
Doggie-paddling to the latter leading back up to the walkway, Michika looks thoroughly exhausted already, but manages to drag herself up.
"I think our sailor needs a little cabin time," Shoko says.
"No doubt. These obstacles are a lot trickier than they look."
"Yes, but at least her small figure might help her stick the landing on this last obstacle."
Michika grips the zipline and pushes off towards the Sea-shape Shifter. She successfully makes it onto the sea turtle shape, but as she tries to get good footing to leap across to the final platform, her water and mud soaked shoes slide right off the padding and she falls headfirst into the water, managing to plug her nose as she hits the surface. Finally, the actress swims across, making it to the little stage where her time ends upon standing up.
Actress Marumi "Rumi" Maruyama is next. She ends up just as much a wet, splattered mess as poor Michika and her face is noticeably tear-streaked when she finally finishes.
"How do you feel now that you've finished?" Shoko asks, holding the mic by Rumi's frowning face.
"I appreciate the opportunity to help a good cause, but I think I will find more fitting ways in the future," Rumi replies. In other words, this was something she never wanted to do again.
Not a single person who watched this program in the future would blame her for this sentiment.
"Now we are joined by comedian and talento, Watanabe Taichiro of This Show Will Really Make You Feel Good. How do you feel you'll keep yourself afloat here today?"
He flashes a cocky grin. "Compared to making people laugh, running an obstacle course is a piece of cake."
"No truer words were ever spoken," his fellow comedian interjects in agreement.
Tachiro zooms across planks, impressively avoiding "walking the plank." Unfortunately a shot to the face knocks him from the wall on the second obstacle as he's halfway. He actually makes it to the third jellyfish ball before bounding off to become shark bait. Similarly to the girls, the final obstacle proves too slippery, sending him for a swim with some finned friends. The comedian finishes with a modest time of two minutes and forty-five seconds.
"Momose Itsumi, widely lauded as one of the top five leading ladies in Japanese showbiz, joins us on the competitor's stage," Shoko says into the camera. She turns her attention to Momose. "Do you think being an actress has prepared you for something like this?"
"Hmm," Momose says, clearly putting some thought into her answer. She's known for being a highly skilled, sincere and passionate actress who delivers the best performance she can, much like a certain male actor, formerly of Japan. "Acting requires a strong mental focus and oftentimes there are physical components to roles as well." Momose smiles. "I would have to say it probably helps."
"Well, she's certainly going to need all the help she can get judging by how beat up the others have been up till now."
Momose gets off to a strong start, only falling in the water once at the first obstacle. Amazingly, she dodges tentacles to the face, absorbing the blows to the abdomen to reach the other side, mud free.
"Wow, she's the first contestant to make it through that one, impressive."
"Yes, it is. Looks like her dedication to her trade has, in fact, lent some aid here this afternoon."
"Itsumu-san, approaching the big red balls now. She would definitely bounce herself into the top three if she can manage to do what a rare few could."
Momose lands on the first ball and catches her footing, then leaps across, but hits the second one on the side, boinging right into the salty water. At the last obstacle, Momose slides onto the shark shape's belly and readies herself for the longish leap to the finish platform. She jumps, but only her upper half makes it. Lacking the strength to pull herself up from that awkward angle, she lets go.
"She's currently in second place with a respectable three minutes, five seconds."
"Next up is idol Nanokura Mimori, a member of the Lucky-M group. How do you think your luck will hold up here?" asks Shoko.
Mimori glares scathingly at the other woman before adopting her usual innocent cheerful mask, leaving Shoko at a loss for words.
But before the host has time to say anything, Mimori beams, "It looks really hard, but I'll do my best!"
"Let's hope her best is sufficient," says Kuri-kinton. "And she's off."
Sliding down the giant ramp on her rump, Mimori stays on the walkway to the Walking the Planks first obstacle.
"She's leaping across those boards like a graceful deer in a forest, but oh! Down she goes into the water!"
"I'm sure she's wishing was in a forest instead right about now," comments Shoko.
"Indeed. Will she be able to smell the flowers or will she be another scent in the water for our sharks to chomp away at her time?" The girl swims over and climbs up the ladder, nearly slipping off, but is able to catch her footing. "Onto the second set of planks. Mimori jumps across again, but takes a plank right to the face!"
In the end, Mimori could not make it through a single obstacle without falling in mud or water, but because she could swim faster, her final time was higher than the first two girls at least.
A pallid Reino steps onto the beginner's platform, his long hair braided to the side.
"The lead vocalist of Vie Ghoul, Reino, joins us now," Shoko says. "Why did you decide to participate?"
"I did not choose." He shivers and looks off in the distance as though terrified of something no one else can see. "I am here so that I don't get cursed."
Shoko blinks at him. "Cursed?"
"Yes."
The mic hovers by him for a few more moments, but Reino remains as silent and still as a corpse. And just as pale.
"There you have it," Shoko says.
"Whatever it is," Kuri-kinton adds. "In any case we'll find out whether this ghoul can overcome the physical curses that lie before him.
"He successfully skis down the slope and makes his way along the path to the dreaded planks. Taking his sweet time. I believe I've seen my eighty five year old grandma move faster than this. I hope his selected charity isn't desperate for cash because it certainly doesn't look like he'll be awarded any. By the way, what is the organization he selected to donate to Shoko-san?"
She scans a clipboard someone hands her. "Looks like…the National Ghost Hunter Club of Japan? That's a real organization? Wow."
"Wow indeed, Shoko. Wow indeed. Doesn't sound like it's a loss for anyone then, except for Reino who is on track to be the world's slowest participant, possibly ever in the history of all obstacle courses."
"And he's across the first couple planks, but oh, slammed in the gut on the next step! Let's take a closer look at the action." In slow motion, Reino steps on one plank, stretching forward with the other foot, leaning towards the next board, but the back leg loses its foundation and an "oh shit!" expression can be seen on the singer's face as he smacks into the next plank with his gut, crashing into the water. "What a hit! But like any good ghoul, he takes a licking and keeps on ticking. Albeit very very slowly."
"Okay, now he must climb across the Octo-Punch. Those long skinny arms are helping him keep his head safe." Suddenly Reino hunches over as if in pain and takes a punch right to the jaw, sending him flying backwards into the mud. "Whoa! Looks like a TKO. Let's take a closer look to see how it happened."
The slow mo reveals Reino taking a tentacle right to the crotch and Shoko stifles a laugh as she says, "That'll help him hit the high notes later."
"You got that right, Shoko-san. I think it's safe to say there are now more than four red balls on this course."
Moving with a pained gait due to tender parts, Reino, who looks more like a swamp creature at the moment, finally arrives at the Jellyfish Jumper.
"If he doesn't get going, he's going to get Motivated in a few seconds. Nevermind, here he goes, hopping onto the ball. Oooh a belly-flop onto the second and holy cow! Flipping his way onto the third before being absolutely clobbered by the final ball! Talk about punishment."
Shoko nods in agreement. "I have a hard time believing any curse would be worse than what he's already experiencing…"
"No kidding."
Reino grabs the handle, zipping across to the shape-shifter only to miss any shape entirely.
"And our soggy ghoul finishes in last place."
"Actor and model Kijima Hidehito is our next challenger." Kijima smiles the kind of charming smile that has allowed the man to get into the pants of many many women. Even Shoko isn't immune–her face heats up.
"Can I get your number or email?" he asks Shoko.
"Aren't you smooth," Shoko observes. "I'll think about it…if you can place in the top three."
"Haha, no problem! Just watch!" Kijima smirks.
Unfortunately, things do not proceed as the actor hopes. In fact, he suffers so many punishing spills that by the end, his smug attitude is completely waterlogged.
"From a meteoric rise following the release of his PV for Prisoner, this competitor holds the record for consecutive weeks at number one spot on the charts, musician Fuwa Sho."
Sho saunters to the interview area near the starting point where Shoko waits with her mic. He's already sporting his life vest, which matches perfectly with the rest of his attire. Her lips press together in a tight line and as Sho gets closer, he can see a slight quiver in her body as she holds her laughter in. The musician scowls at her, knowing the camera isn't focused on his face at the moment and she cheekily grins back.
"Your outfit makes quite a statement and I see you are competing for the Japanese Association of International Women's Rights?"
"You gotta be kidding me," Sho mutters under his breath.
"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that," Shoko says, eyes broadcasting deep amusement.
Sho gives her a look. "No worries, I was just clearing my throat. To answer your question," he smiles smoothly, "my appreciation–and respect–for women runs deep."
"That's refreshing to hear."
"You know what else is deep?" Kuri-kinton asks as Sho takes his place at the starting line. "This water, which is filled with the tears of the many women Fuwa-san has made cry. Rumor has it he was busy making a girl shed tears just earlier in the competitor's lounge. That's right ladies, this one has a reputation as a heartbreaker. Let's see if he'll be able to break some fellow celebrity hearts today by displacing those in the top three."
Sho runs down the slope, right up to the first challenge and wastes no time, propelling himself across with his long legs. He crosses the first set swimmingly, but gets caught during the second set, barely able to catch himself with his arms.
"Wow, he's putting some incredible upper body strength on display, pulling himself up from the brink. Almost makes me want to work out. Almost. Let's see how he fares against our many-legged sea monster."
Sho also uses his long arms to his advantage and though he takes some hits to his midsection, along with some ink, not a drop of mud graces his body.
"Fuwa-san continues a grueling pace as he heads to the Big Balls."
"Jellyfish."
"Whatever. So far this has been an impressive run. Can he keep it up?"
"Isn't that always the question," Shoko intejects dryly.
Kuri-kinton barks a laugh just as Sho lands on the first ball. And the second. And the third!
"Amazing! Hopping across like a frog on lily pads. Can he make it all the way? He steadies his feet for the final jump, but no! It's too slick with mud and the musician takes a salty drink in our shark-infested waters, eating up precious time on the clock."
"Final obstacle now. He pushes off. The pink leggings are straining against his toned legs. Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd say. He times it perfectly, landing in the largest shape, the sand dollar. Steadies himself and hurdles across, but oh! Takes one to the chin and he's treading water. Still manages to finish with an excellent time of one minute, thirty-two seconds. Now only two competitors remain."
"Yes, our last female participant is also from Lucky-M, Lin Midori." Clad in a sexy two piece activewear set reminiscent of a starry night sky, her top reveals a tantalizing sliver of skin between the tight top and leggings.
"What made you want to be a part of today's events?"
"I wanted to win to contribute to a cause that is incredibly dear to me–supporting the National Cancer Center Hospital."
"Aww, that's so noble Midori-san. I'm sure our entire audience is rooting for you now."
"I'll do my best!" she exclaims.
And she does, narrowly managing to route comedian Taichiro Watanabe, which puts her in second place, below Sho Fuwa"
"Our last participant hardly needs an introduction. He was chosen as this year's number one most desirable man, actor Koga Hiromune!"
"Thank you Aki-san," Koga says, looking positively radiant as he smiles from ear to ear. "I look forward to snatching the top spot away from the others today." A mischievous glint shines in his eyes. "Especially Fuwa-san."
"Oh? Are you and the musician specifically competing with one another?"
"You could say that."
"Care to elaborate?"
He crosses his arms, standing tall and confident. "Nope."
"Well, good luck out there!"
Koga heads to the starting point.
"If only luck mattered in an event like this," Kuri-kinton says. "He's going to need skill if he wants to beat the frontrunner."
In the end, he displays a lot of skill, beating out Sho by ten seconds, namely because he managed to make across all four Big Balls.
Having finally managed to extricate himself from the braggart Koga, Sho headed back to the competitor's lounge. Only a few stragglers like himself were left. He exchanged a few words with Shoko who told him she'd be ready to drive him back to his place after she finished a couple things up.
But as he moved past the stragglers, Kijima and Rumi, he overheard the weasel say, "Oh so you like guys like my character in Dark Moon, eh. Interesting."
It came to him in a bright, furious flash. Kijima. Kyoko's Dark Moon TV interview where she was all dolled up like a beautifully blooming flower, practically unrecognizable as the girl he knew. Sho turned around.
He's the one that dared play dress up with Kyoko!
Rumi caught sight of the look on Sho's face and took several steps backwards as Kijima asked why she looked scared. Pale-faced, Rumi lifted a hand, hesitantly pointing behind the actor.
The actor turned his head to look and Sho's fist collided with his lower face.
Rumi screeched and Kijima dropped to his knees, groaning in pain, blood dripping from his lips. As far as Sho was concerned, the clown should be grateful he'd pulled the punch.
"Shit!" Kijima began to pull off his shirt, presumably to staunch the bleeding, but thought better of it after seeing how it was covered in half-dried mud. His shorts however were another matter—they were only wet. The actor wriggled out of them, leaving him clad in boxers. Rumi who was already flushed from earlier events reddened further before hastily glancing away.
Kijima stood up, still pressing the shorts against his face. "What the fuck man?" came his muffled growl.
"That's for playing dress up with Kyoko Mogami you slimy bastard. Since I bet Tsuruga was too busy playing the gentleman to pay you in kind for messing with his girl."
"Hey! I'm Tsuruga's buddy, dumbass, and I didn't know he liked her then! If I had known I wouldn't have approached her."
"Okay, fine. It's for me then."
"What the hell do you have to do with Mogami Kyoko?"
"I've known her since we were in diapers. She's my childhood friend and considering your intentions, a mangled lip is getting off easy."
"It was five years ago!"
"Yeah, but five years ago I had no idea who you were. Or where to find you." He grinned. "Better late than never, right?"
Kijima floundered for words and gaped at the musician.
Not sparing the man another glance, Sho sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.
A/N
Shark Infested Waters is based on the British show Total Wipeout and its American counterpart, Wipeout (which is apparently on air again?).
I tried my best to research the personalities by rereading chapters with each side character…hopefully I did them reasonable justice, but also please remember that this takes place like five years in the future so there's bound to be some differences. Of course that doesn't mean people HAVE to have changed either necessarily.
Mimori's name means beautiful forest so the host used that for commentary. I tried to imagine her being angry at Sho and I just couldn't picture it. I don't think she would have changed much over the years because there was no catalyst for it like there was for Kyoko–at least not until now.
Kuri-kinton- Sho says he makes lame jokes and apparently he's named after a sweet golden potato dish, which I figured must reflect his personality? And maybe looks? He's handsome so Sho grumbling probably has more to do with jealousy.
Michika - The fact that Kanae and Chidori roast the girl so much combined with the incredibly lame few lines from one of her dramas makes me think she's the equivalent of a soap opera star. So that's how I wrote her xD
Reino - deserved a shot to the balls and all the rest, right?
Also, I can't be the only one who wanted someone to punch Kijima after everything, can I? Ahhh, the beauty of fanfic–making dreams reality.
Unending thanks to my wonderful Beta: Parker
And much appreciation to the readers, especially those that take time to comment!