In the end, Ren managed to convince her to help him with his breakfast plate. The two of them were still uncomfortably full by the time the bus came around. The day's morning event was off-location, everyone piling in to find a seat. She sank into the plush cushioned chairs with a happy moan, patting her stomach.
"These chairs are so comfy, considering it's a bus."
Ren only nodded in response, one hand covering his mouth as if he were about to be sick. Maybe antagonizing the man you want to fall in love with you was not a great idea.
"Are you feeling okay?" she said.
"I'll be fine, I took some medicine," he said. "It's my own fault."
She grimaced in sympathy. "You said something before about me being as bad as your mother. Did she used to make you eat a large breakfast as well?"
She thought she heard him choke, but it turned out to be a cough. "Not exactly. My mom is a terrible cook, but it doesn't stop her from trying and since dad was always gone in the mornings, it was up to her to make breakfast. Anytime I refused to eat she would throw a big fit and start complaining that I didn't love her enough to eat the food she'd so lovingly made for me." He lowered his hand, the grimace more smile than anything now. "Dad was always better at keeping it in until she was gone."
A mixture of emotions bloomed inside Kyoko. They were too confusing to sort through, so she focused on the more positive ones first.
"I think this is the first time you've talked to me about your family," said Kyoko.
"Not too surprising," said Ren. "My relationship with them is complicated right now. Kind of like yours with your mother."
Trust Ren to swing the conversation around and send it back hurtling to her. It helped identify the other pieces of emotions battling within her.
"I'm a little jealous," she said. "At least you have happy memories with your parents."
Reaching forward, Ren took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"Sorry, I won't mention them again."
"No!" That's not what she wanted. "I'd love to hear more about them. I'll meet them one day. Probably?"
"Definitely." He cocked his head. "Actually, you've already met one of them."
"I have?"
When had she done that? She felt like she'd remember something as momentous as meeting one of Tsuruga Ren's parents. Then again, Ren was a pseudonym, so she wouldn't know who they were unless he told her. Nobody knew anything about his family or history before entering the spotlight.
"Yes," said Ren. "He already likes you, so you don't have to worry about them. They'll be happy to have you as a daughter-in-law."
Something along the lines of a spasm broke out on Kyoko's face. Terror and joy fought to control her face, resulting in a twitching fit that made it impossible to speak. She'd completely forgotten about the drama of in-laws. It was easy on her end because her mother wanted little to do with Kyoko, but Ren? Would his parents have some unreasonable expectations for their son's future wife?
Ren looked at her with concern. He was about to speak when someone else did.
"Wait, so the two of you are already engaged?"
Kyoko jumped right out of her mind and onto the ceiling. So caught up in her conversation with Ren, she'd forgotten about the rest of the world. The person in the seats behind them leaned against their headrests, crouching to avoid being yelled at by Maria who sat at the front of the bus. Beautiful acrylic nails announced who it was. Salon-chan slid her face between them, giving Kyoko a congratulatory grin.
"Good for you. Guess you didn't need our help after all," she said.
"We're not engaged," said Kyoko. "We're just… trying. It's complicated."
Salon-chan frowned. "But he just said his dad likes you as a future daughter-in-law."
"That's, uh, just my assumption," cut in Ren. Nerd Ren, to be precise.
"You're an official couple, good to know," said Salon-chan. "Or at least, until it either works out or doesn't." She gave Ren a smile. "So, did you like my work? Aren't Kyoko's nails gorgeous?"
Ren gave a nervous nod. "Yes, they are very nice."
"You haven't even seen them," said Kyoko.
"I noticed them earlier during breakfast."
Had he? He hadn't mentioned it.
"What's, this? Kyoko-sama got her nails done?"
Daichi joined Salon-chan, leaning against Ren's headrest and nearly knocking off his glasses. Daichi's additional presence meant that Ren had to constantly stoop to allow both intruders to invade their space.
"So cute!" Daichi cooed. "They look so good on you. I don't think I've ever seen you with your nails done."
"It's a first for me," said Kyoko.
"I'm so glad I was here to see it." Daichi gave a long sigh, looking now at Ren. "I guess this means I'll have to officially give up on Kyoko-chan if you two are dating. You make sure and take good care of her. Otherwise she might change her mind."
Dating. Ren and her. Dating. Such a strange word to be associated with her, and yet, amazing. She was so busy screaming inside that she almost missed what Ren said in response.
"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." Ren said it with a smile, but Kyoko shivered at the underlying layer of ice beneath it. Salon-chan seemed to notice as well. She raised her eyebrows, shooting Kyoko a curious look.
Daichi, pure as the setting sun, gave a loud laugh, thumping Ren on the back so hard he did lose his glasses this time.
"I noticed you're wearing a Star Wars shirt today. Does that mean you're into sci-fi as well as superheroes?"
It wasn't until twenty minutes into a long discussion about sci-fi that Kyoko realized that Daichi was trying to reach out to Ren. The awkward, socially inept, nerd Ren.
She couldn't help a smile when Daichi made an offhand comment about Tsuruga Ren and one day wanting to meet him. She'd make sure Daichi was not left in the dark about Ren's real identity by the end of the show.
The location for their next activity was a large studio set. The building was owned by the show, a plain box-shaped warehouse with no distinct features. Everyone was ushered into one of the large rooms where they got their first hint as to what today's activity would include.
A raised platform sat in the center, running from one end of the room to the other and parting into a distinct T. In front of that platform was a smaller raised area where chairs and a table had been erected. The setup was unmistakable.
This was some sort of runway. Curtains covered the entrance of the catwalk, no doubt leading to separate changing areas behind them.
Kyoko followed everyone else onto the T platform, lining up with the other women as they were directed to do so. She tried to catch Sakura's eye to at least get a smile or something out of her, but the woman was not looking her way. It looked deliberate.
Time, Kyoko. Remember, you have to give her time.
It was selfish, but she really hoped it wasn't too much time. She missed her friend. This morning had been so good with Ren. They'd talked, laughed and she'd even managed a little flirting. Sort of. But with Sakura avoiding her, it didn't feel as good as it should.
A finger tapped on her shoulder, jolting her out of her miserable thoughts. Half expecting Hime, Kyoko turned and instead found Kimura. Even more surprising, the woman wasn't radiating any hostility, just boredom.
"Excuse me," said Kimura, making an indication with her head.
Caught off guard by her civility, Kyoko stepped aside automatically to allow Kimura to walk past.
…except Kimura didn't walk past. She took Kyoko's spot. In the font. In the middle of the section of women. Kyoko was forced behind her, almost completely hidden due to Kimura's heel-aided height.
For a second, Kyoko was stunned.
Then she became impressed.
I need to remember that for the next improv scene with Natsu, thought Kyoko with an appreciative nod. Totally seemed like something she'd do to subtly exert her dominance over someone.
Kimura turned her head to the side, giving Kyoko a brief gloating look before facing the front again.
Definitely need to remember this for Natsu.
One of the women beside Kyoko noticed the exchange, glancing at her and giving a soft but audible "Bitch." Sometimes Kyoko wondered if the men had as much fun as the women did.
Before Kyoko could move somewhere more suitable for her height, the cameras started up, everyone was instructed to get ready. The actress in her smacked herself for allowing Kimura to cover her up. Even if this was a stupid reality TV show, she still needed to be making use of the exposure.
Ryou stood between the two sections of candidates, the makeup crew making final touches before hurrying off. Their job was a meaningless one in Kyoko's opinion, as no one would be looking at Ryou's face thanks to what he was wearing. His suit looked as if someone had murdered a box of crayons and then forgotten to brush off the wax crumbs. Just what was fashion anymore?
"Welcome everyone, to the next challenge for our contestants," said Ryou, flashing his smile at the camera. "We gave them a small reprise yesterday to mingle and enjoy their day at the beach, but now it's time to get back to business. As we reach the end of the first week for our new contestants and the third for our veterans, choices are becoming more limited and deadlines are approaching."
Kyoko tuned him out, focusing on the three people who had entered as Ryou spoke. One was a younger man who seemed to be in competition with Ryou as to who could wear the more ridiculous outfit. Eyes blackened with dark liner, he was clothed in a macabre garb with a high collar and ornate detailing. Lace peaked out of long sleeves that he delicately tugged before taking his seat at what Kyoko guessed was the "judges" table.
(Hey, she may not watch much TV but she knew the tropes when she saw them This was going to be some sort of fashion show and these were the guest judges.)
The next person to take the seat beside Death-san was an older, normal-looking man. He wore his age well, his hair and clothing keeping an edge of youth while avoiding the pitfall of "trying too hard to look young." He was likely the most reasonable of the three, which means he'd be the hardest to please.
The last person was a woman with an eclectic haircut that did nothing for her age. It had been chopped suddenly at chin length and looked more like a helmet than anything. Other than that, she was dressed in a reasonable lavender pantsuit, the epitome of a good businesswoman, minus the strange haircut. Small beady eyes took in the group before her, already judging.
Kyoko's attention snapped back to Ryou when she heard the word "Wedding Dress."
"-each one a new design for the next season. You'll choose a dress or suit, accessories, hairstyle, and makeup before going out on the runway. The winners will be determined not only by your ability to match everything together but your presentation as well. So, contestants, this is the time to bust out your best catwalk because the best three contestants from both sexes get to take home their entire ensemble."
Kyoko gasped along with the rest of the women. She could take home her own wedding dress? And shoes, veil, earrings, and everything? If these women thought Kyoko had tried hard during the obstacle race they had another thing coming.
"That's not all," said Ryou, smiling at the chaos he had created. "The top male and top female model will be granted the chance to model next season's wedding dresses for Forever magazine."
As if Kyoko had needed more motivation to win. But there it was, laid out in a perfect storm of opportunity. Modeling in a bridal magazine was one of those life goals she didn't realize she had until someone mentioned it to her. She had to win. She had to.
Plus get the perfect dress for her wedding with Tsuruga-san.
Assuming me and Tsuruga-san get married.
Tsuruga-san was sure to win this challenge on the men's side. This meant if she won as well, it would mean one less expense to worry about for the wedding.
Again, that's a strong if.
After a few more pieces of instructions, they were released backstage, men to one side, and women to the other. She caught Ren's eye before they were separated, sending him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He returned it with as much excitement, an amused gleam in his eyes.
The room backstage was crammed, dressing tables shoved into narrow rows filling the middle of the room. Most of the space was occupied by rows and rows of beautiful white dresses, shelves of shoes, and a rack of veils. Kyoko gaped, awed as a halo of magic danced in her vision.
An alarm blared. The signal to start! She slapped her cheeks twice to break herself out of her daze.
Come on, Kyoko. You need to concentrate.
They had an hour and a half to find a dress, match accessories, apply makeup and do their hair before the fashion run began. Not even close to enough time in Kyoko's opinion. Applying Mio's makeup alone during Dark Moon had taken hours, meaning she was often on set well before her other co-workers.
Regardless, she had a ticking clock and the other women had already found their stations. Most were scrambling through the dresses aisle, squealing at the brand-name gowns and scoffing as other women shoved past. She saw Hime struggling against the tide of women, huffing at them for their "rudeness". No one stopped to apologize.
Kyoko came up from behind her, giving her a small push.
"It's a competition, Hime-san," said Kyoko. "Get in there. No one is going to be nice."
"Except you, apparently," huffed Hime.
"Not exactly, I already know what I want."
She'd spotted it the second they'd entered. Away from the holy rows of white sat a much smaller row of traditional wedding garb. Kyoko strode to one such set, pulling it out to stare.
It was an uchikake kimono, the material heavy and long enough to trail on the floor. This one was red, embroidered with rivers of gold that wound up the hem to dance around delicate stems of flowers. Peacock feathers overlapped the gold, completing the elaborate and majestic theme.
She turned to see Hime staring at her with a raised brow.
"Going for the traditional look?" said Hime. "Good luck walking in that."
Kyoko grinned. "I'll manage."
She selected the needed wraps and white undergarments the kimono was meant to drape over, then found a pair of sandals her size. Last, she grabbed an appropriate headpiece with matching flowers and golden accents.
Placing her ensemble on a clothes rack labeled with her name, Kyoko sat down to get to work on her hair and makeup. The hair would take the longest.
A quick glance at the dressing area noted everyone else was still trying on dresses. Most weren't even bothering to wait for a changing room, stripping to their underwear to see if the dress fit or if they'd need to wear large clamps to keep it on. Thank goodness any camera people in here were women and purposefully not pointing their cameras at anyone changing. Kyoko vaguely remembered a portion in the contract about editing out any accidental nudity.
Kyoko spotted Eri wearing a short knee-length dress, jumping over legs to hurry to her station. Sakura was still browsing.
I hope they do well.
Kyoko glanced at the digital clock positioned overhead, wiping away her makeup at the same time.
One hour, twelve minutes left.
Plenty of time to do what she needed to. Grabbing a set of supplied hair tools, she got to work.
Yet again, Kyoko was glad for the upbringing in the Fuwa household. She'd worn updos every day while working at the inn, learning many different styles even if she never took the time to do them. Though the style she wore today would be more modern, it would still pass for the traditional look.
Thirty minutes later, Kyoko was done. She wore a simple yet elegant bun, situated to one side and decorated with her hair ornaments. It also conveniently kept her bangs out of the way to apply her makeup.
Kyoko had just finished applying her face lotion when she heard a gasp, a splash, and a yell behind her. Looking around, she felt her heart stop.
Kyoko's dress, along with a few others hanging beside it, was now stained with tea. The murky brown liquid bled into the white wedding dresses, soiling theirs, and Kyoko's perfect silk.
Everything was numb.
One of the girls held a thermos, yelling at Kimura along with several other girls. Kimura met their ire with her own.
"It's not my fault your big butt can't fit past me," Kimura huffed. "You're the one walking around with a thermos full of tea when we're not supposed to have drinks back here. Or are you just mad that I stopped you from sabotaging someone else's dress instead of these?"
Angry shouts met Kimura's words. An assistant came backstage to break them up. It was mostly lost on Kyoko as she slowly walked to her kimono, taking it from its rack and holding the stained dress as if it were a beloved friend.
Unusable. Completely soiled and destroyed. All without being worn for a single wedding.
Dimly she was aware of the women around her returning to the chaos, successfully shoed away by the stagehand. One woman, however, remained.
"It really is too bad," Kimura drawled. "I think you were the only one who planned to wear a traditional dress. You would have stood out. And with your experience in front of the camera, you were a shoo-in to win."
Kyoko met Kimura's eyes, their dark color completely devoid of sympathy.
"Shame."
Kimura was clearly ready to go. Her dress was sleek and modern, complementing her loose hair topped with a diadem. She'd had little to do for her face as she always wore perfect makeup, giving her plenty of time to work on other parts of her appearance. No one could say she didn't look like a billboard-ready bride.
A gust of wind suddenly pushed Kimura back.
Except it wasn't the wind.
Curse her, yelled Kyoko's demons. Curse her for ruining our beautiful dress! A mini-demon yanked on Kimura's hair, knotting the perfect waves.
"Wha! What is happening?" cried Kimura.
"I don't know," said Kyoko coldly. "Maybe it's the ill will of all the women you've bullied. Or maybe it's the curse I'm going to place on you, sent back in time to do its job."
Kimura bristled. "Wha—?"
Kyoko swept past her, holding out a hand for her demons to return. "Don't bother fixing your hair, Kimura-san. I'm going to make sure you pay for hurting those dresses."
She swept past, still holding the stained kimono and mourning its departure. A glance at the clock showed her she only had thirty-two minutes left.
Kyoko slipped into one of the dress isles, all her demons vanishing the moment Kimura was out of sight. All she felt now was loss.
And it was such a beautiful dress, too.
Despite her bravado, Kyoko had no confidence she could select a new dress that complimented her figure, select appropriate accessories, and complete her makeup in time. It was unlikely she could even be a runner-up.
But oh, she wanted to make Kimura pay. There were small pranks and then there was this. It was completely unforgivable. The dresses deserved better.
The racks rustled in front of her and Hime came popping out from the sea of tulle and satin. Despite perfect hair and makeup, she looked a mess. One hand held a pair of shoes, the other held two dresses that kept her tottering to balance their weight. Necklaces swung from her forearm and she wore two completely different sets of earrings.
And she wore nothing but her bra and panties.
"Kyoko," howled Hime. "I can't choose what I should wear, and everyone keeps telling me different things. I can't decide if they're trying to mess me up or if they're being genuine, and we're running out of time!"
Kyoko threw a hand over her eyes, sputtering through the cracks in her fingers. "Why are you running around in your underwear?"
Hime didn't even glance at herself. "That's not important. Dresses! Which one is best?"
"I'll tell you but please put something on."
In response, Hime struggled to detangle one of the dresses from the other, holding it before her.
"Well? What do you think?"
Kyoko lowered her hand, glancing at it. "Uh, I'd say no. It'll exaggerate your hips and make you look flat as a board."
Hime lowered the dress, speaking in shocked aw. "That's what Eri-chan said. I thought she was being mean but now that I look at it, I think you two are right."
"Glad I could help," said Kyoko, raising a hand to block the underwear-clad spaz from view. "Sorry, I can't really help with anything else. I've got to start pretty much from scratch."
"Why? What happened?"
Kyoko gave a brief account. By the end, Hime was shaking with rage as well.
"Unforgivable," said Hime. "Who does that to another woman's wedding dress? She doesn't deserve to even participate."
"Unforgivable or not, I need a new ensemble."
Hime dropped her load, motioning for the kimono in Kyoko's arms. "Let me see where the stains are."
Kyoko handed over the fabric. Hime held it out, examining every inch of where the tea had stained it.
"It's minimal," said Hime. "I think… yes. I think we can make this work."
"Make what work?"
Hime held up a finger. "Tell you what. You help me with my ensemble, and I'll help you with yours."
Kyoko considered it. Hime was a fashionable person, her daily attire proved that. But then again…
"What makes you think you can help me when you're having problems yourself?"
"Because," said Hime, holding up the kimono. "I can make it so you can still wear your wedding dress."
Thanks for reading!
Hey look, I posted like, two weeks later instead of 4 months later. Praise me and my nimble fingers!
-BW