At the same time that Reino was icing his sore balls (it didn't take much ice–I'm sure one can imagine the reason why), Kijima held a bag of frozen peas to his split lip. Placing the peas to the side, the actor looked at the time on his phone and selected one of his favorite contacts.

"Hey Kijima. What's up?" came the deep masculine voice of the man he'd known as Tsuruga Ren.

Though his true name had been revealed, Kijima still preferred to call Kuon by his familiar stage name.

"Ren, my friend, I have a question for you."

"...Okay…"

"I know what a busy guy you are––especially right now with moving and wedding planning. I promise it'll be quick. You remember that time Kana kissed you?"

Kuon groaned. "Why are you bringing that up again?"

"J-just let me finish and you'll see."

Kuon sighed.

"Remember how we talked about that teenager who you thought had stolen her away. The one we ripped to shreds over drinks?"

"Yes, I recall the conversation. What of it?"

"What that punk Fuwa Sho?"

"..."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"...Yes, but how do you know that?"

"Because that fucker broke my face today, bruh!" A strangled sound carried over the audio waves, but Kijima just kept going. "My beautiful face! We were on a game show together today. He said it was revenge for my intentions with his 'childhood friend.' Is that true? Was Kyoko friends with that prick when they were young?"

It was then that Kijima realized the strangled sound must have been his buddy attempting to hold back laughter.

The image of an outraged Sho Fuwa decking Kijima Hidehito in the face was just too much. Kuon full on cackled into the phone. He simply couldn't help it.

"Hey!" Kijima scowled. "It's not funny and you never answered my question!"

Kuon took a deep shaky breath, pushing away the imagery lest it spark another laughing fit.

"No, it is a little funny. Considering what I wanted to do to you at the time, you got off easy."

Kijima gulped. "Water under the bridge right?"

"Of course," Kuon said smoothly. There was an edge to his words that made Kijima wish he'd never rekindled the subject.

"G-great because you know I didn't know how you felt then."

"I'm aware."

Kijima felt his body break out in a light sweat. How the hell could a guy be this intimidating over a phone, he thought. Shit.

"But to answer your previous question," Kuon continued, "Kyoko and Sho have known each other for a very long time."

"Huh, I would not have guessed that."

"That's how she preferred it."

"Oh, I see." He didn't really of course. He wondered why, but got the distinct feeling he shouldn't ask. For his own good. "Uh, well, that's all I wanted to know man."

"Is your curiosity satisfied, Kijima-kun?" Kuon's voice was far too pleasant. Kijima could picture what the world's most popular male actor looked like––that killer smile––and it made him wince.

"Y-yeah." Clearly Kuon was irritated that his time was being taken up with frivolous questions so Kijima hastily changed the subject. "Good luck with the wedding plans!"

"Thanks," Kuon said dryly. Kijima felt a little of the tension ease in his body now that his friend's tone had lightened up again. "I think we're going to need it."

"If there's any way I can help, let me know."

"I'll have Yashiro get in touch."

"Sounds good. I'll leave you to it. Later man."

"Later Kijima."

Kijima tossed the phone onto the other seat of the sofa, picked up the peas, and resumed icing his face.

Yeah, never doing that again, he vowed. If Kijima had learned anything from that phone call, it was that sometimes it's truly better to leave the past where it belongs.