Tokyo Crazy Paradise: Gotta Learn Japanese (Part 2)

To continue from the original review of Tokyo Crazy Paradise by Nakamura Yoshiki here, let me tell you some of the reasons why I liked it.

First, I obviously like the characters because I've already started to gush over them and I'll probably have to write a post specifically on the key characters (to me). I have to say Nakamura-Sensei has a real gift for crafting characters that appeal to me.

Part of that is that they're smart, capable, and creative. Part of that is they are emotional critters reacting in ways that I, at least, can understand. Not necessarily what I might do myself, but in ways that, as I get to know them, make sense to me from a character standpoint. As a character writer myself, my hat's off to that kind of ability.

Our heroine is tough and strong without being stupid or unemotional. In fact, she's both laid back and friendly, while also being hot-headed and readily excited. Her cross-dressing rationale makes more sense than most cross-dressing rationales, raised as a boy with her three brothers by cop parents who didn't want her to be a target in a world where women walking alone are considered fair game for rapists and muggers. True, the story ends up being more complicated than that, and, in fact, that's another part of the charm. With a character so complex and strong, it would be easy for the hero to be overshadowed, but Ryuuji holds his own and then some. Just as tough, just as capable, he's a quiet foil for Tsukasa's excesses, a rigidly controlled individual living up to an impossible standard he set for himself. So impossible, in fact, that he allows himself only one passion, and that just happens to be Tsukasa. A fact that has not escaped his fiancee.

As each chapter unfolds, we uncover layers and facets of characters, which I, of course, love, but also layers and facets of the story. More and more side threads get woven in, with allusions to the past, even legends, that frequently don't manifest until volumes later. I don't know whether it's planned or serendipity, but it's a pleasure to read. Over time, threads and strands weave together into a cohesive whole that (despite the standard plot absurdities of shoujo manga) makes the eventual resolution of so many diverse stories fit tidily together and leave one feeling satisfied. And that, my friends, is not always the case with a story that carries on for more than a hundred chapters.

In fact, though I've never had the slightest interest in organized crime, I found the yakuza element very effective, coupled with the futuristic elements because it enabled us to make a mini-society that worked quite well in the lawless future and allowed us to play with different versions of morality, duty, honor, etc. Fascinating, actually (and not unlike my society within a society from my first novel). I found the dichotomy (cop's child/yakuza heir) quite interesting and thought it was all handled with superlative skill with minimal clumsiness.
But, wait, there's more. It's hilarious. I mean, Skip Beat! is funny as hell so I'm not surprised, but many of the jokes are just a little more off-color, a little more over the top, and over and over, laugh worthy, as funny the tenth time as the first. How often does that happen? Part of it is the interaction between Ryuuji and Tsukasa. The Ryuuji is the penultimate straight man just makes it funnier.


But it isn't just that's there are sight gags and double entrendres and bits of funny spread here and there. Nakamura-Sensei frequently seasons her most dramatic and powerful scenes with this same humor. She manages to do so without diluting the pathos or drama or action or power, even the complexity when she does so. Quite the contrary, with the humor adding humanity to the scene, increasing the power. Meanwhile, the humor is all the more delicious for its surprise, because you don't see it coming. That, my friends, is a talent that should not be discounted, an achievement that really makes this story compelling (and an ability I'd really like to be able to use with my own writing.

But wait, there's still more. There are action scenes as good or better than any I've seen on paper. Most of the time, action leaves me cold in a manga, lost in the stillness of the medium. Exceptions include Shinobi Life and some of the sports scenes in Hana Kimi. I like it here where the action is frequent and immediate, like below where Tsukasa uses her signature chain to ward against bullets (yes, I know it's impossible - folks, it's a cartoon). I love how Ryuuji makes no move to protect himself (though he and Tsukasa frequently dodge bullets easily), completely confident that she'll protect him. I just love that.


Action is actually a big part of this manga, unlike many of the shoujo types: gunfights, fist fights, explosions, rescues, even torture. Normally, I'm not a huge action junkie but not only do I find it really works here, I think it's one of several reasons why it's very accessible to potential readers of either gender.

Then, there's the very effective renditions of drama and pathos, the kind that pull the heartstrings or gets the blood pumping. I don't want to put any examples up this so I don't give anything important away. Suffice it to say, I found moment that touched me, scared me, and even made me cry all through this manga (though there were far more toward the end, so there's seriously a climactic arc over several volumes near the end).

One other little thing that appealed, made more confounding given the youth of the protagonists, despite any real sex and the emphasis on action and drama: this is a very sexy manga.
The relationships between the two main characters, not to mention the complex relationships between the many side characters (particularly Kamojima) really make this fascinating and appealing. Villains in this manga are not quite as complex or interesting as the ones Nakamura-Sensei coughed up in Skip Beat!, but that makes it easier to take them down here with extreme prejudice (with a couple glaring exceptions).

That's what makes the whole thing so interesting, so compelling. Additionally, again, Nakamura-Sensei knows how to dress her characters, including Tsukasa ("in drag") and, in particular, Ryuuji. She creates not only appealing clothes, but characters who wear them very very well. In fact, though the artwork is frequently a bit less polished than it was in Skip Beat!, I generally found the main protagonists as appealing largely because the proportion thing was less pronounced here (though still present). Some of the sets and scenes are truly gorgeous and the inhabitants even more so.

What I Didn't Like: Not much. I love this manga. Did you catch that? Some of the throwaway characters tend to all look the same and not be polished. Tsukasa's eldest brother didn't appeal much to me nor Ryuuji's fiancee, but I'm not sure they were supposed to. Some of the things that bothered me about the artwork in Skip Beat! are here, too, but to a lesser degree. Many of the plot twists are absurd, but it's futuristic and Shoujo so that's kind of par for the course. I'm not much for gansters, but I couldn't have cared less here because I loved the story and the people, in fact, I liked the society within a society thing as I mentioned above. Then there's the ridiculously youthful age of the protagonists which brings me to....

The one real issue I have with this is that it's not being published in this country in English. I have read the scanlations (repeatedly) that fans had translated from Japanese and I have most of them in Japanese (despite the high cost). But I'd love to see them published here and think they would be quite successful here if we made one teensy weensy little change...which I'll discuss next time.

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Tokyo Crazy Paradise: Gotta Learn Japanese (Part 1)

The more observant of my readers may have noticed that my manga list sidebar includes a "new" category called "Gotta Learn Japanese." I can't remember if I've explained what that means before but it's time to because I'm going to review my all time favorite (so far) manga. What it means is that (a) I loved the manga so much I want to read it in the original Japanese badly enough I'm going to teach myself the language. Nor am I exaggerating. I've just about licked the two phonetic written languages of Japan (Katakana and Hiragana), I have several thought provoking resource books, including a few grammars and dictionaries, some audio language courses I can run on my computer and will be starting on trying to teach this old brain Kanji this week. It's been more fun than I imagined.

And yes, this was prompted by a single compelling manga which is not available in English in book form, though kind fans provided a scanned translated versions on-line, bless them. I love this manga so much, I have bought 15 of the 19 volumes in Japanese and doing so costs me almost as much as all the rest of my mangas put together. And I don't begrudge a penny (though I haven't convinced myself to buy the last four yet at $50 each).


The manga is Tokyo Crazy Paradise by Nakamura Yoshiki (who also wrote Skip Beat!) and I can't think about it or talk about it without wanting to read it again. Nakamura-Sensei apparently specializes in writing compelling, character-driven mangas that I absolutely cannot resist despite the fact they're written on topics that hold absolutely no interest for me, at least until I read them.

I can give you half a dozen reasons (if not more) why it shouldn't have ever appealed to me in the slightest but I won't because none of those reasons make a damn bit of difference. I love this manga. You know that old cliché: "I laughed, I cried, it became a part of me." It applies in spades here and, though I've read it probably a dozen times (and will read it again), I still laugh all through it, still catch my breath, still weep copiously when reading volume 16 (and the last chapter of 15). This manga gives me everything I'm looking for in a story (how often does that happen?) and leaves me feeling satisfied with an ending that answers my most pressing questions in a way I can live with without twisting the characters into something they're not.

I can give you three very compelling reasons why this works for me: Kozuki Tsukasa (the cross-dressing heroine), Shirogami Ryuuji (the youthful but serious head of Kanto's biggest crime syndicate) and Kamojima Toshiyuki, Ryuuji's middle-aged bodyguard who effectively raised him. Tsukasa or Ryuuji alone could have carried this series for me, but, with both of them, I'm completely enrapt. I've written a post specifically about them here.

I can give you another very compelling reason why this manga completely works for me, something rather personal. My first novel, which will probably never see the light of day, has characters almost frightening like these characters, except the serious relatively humorless badass driven by honor and tradition is my female lead, Layla. And the easy-going, good-natured fighter who constantly finds new depths and layers to his abilities to fit the occasion is my male lead. In this manga, the roles are a bit more traditional, and yet... Actually, I think this manga may mean that I'll never really be happy with my first novel. There are many similarities, but my novel is all about the established couple (completely different premise and plot) while this is about the building of that relationship. In many ways, I find so many things I could have worked into my novel but didn't because of where they started it (not to mention the genius of this mangaku), that I will never now be satisfied with my novel.

In my opinion, this manga has a great deal to offer both male and female readers (something I don't often say), with action and humor and romance and pathos and drama. And yes, it's going to take me more than one post to tell you even those reasons I've identified why I like it. Truth is, I can't entirely explain why it completely charms me, but it does.

Anime? No Volumes of manga: 19 (in Japanese) Status: Complete

My rating: Gotta learn Japanese

Age range: Older teen, one who's had the sex talk, because sex and rape are alluded to frequently. There is some nudity and considerable violence. Some might argue for an adult rating, but I found it far less overt than Butterflies, Flowers (as well as less stupid) and actually recommended it to my sixteen year old.

Taboos and "warnings": Violence, a good bit of it, crime, drug use (not among our protagonists), underage smoking (including one protagonist), sexual innuendo (and a bit more here and there), nudity, several attempted rape scenes (NOT by the protagonist). There is some December-May going on and, since our protagonists are ostensibly fourteen, some discussion of underage sex. Note also, there's unabashed sexual harassment (from a protagonist), enough to set a feminist screaming into the night; it doesn't bother me for a number of reasons I'll go into later and is complicated by the personal relationship existing between the two individuals. If you were going for a sweetness and light manga, this is probably not your best bet.

Premise: In 2020 Tokyo, lawlessness and self-absorption rules the day, with citizens looking the other way when crimes are committed and cops often doing the same. The Yakuza (Japanese Mafia) holds considerable power. In this world, four brothers, sons of recently killed cops, are left penniless and homeless on these mean streets. Tsukasa, who's really a cross-dressing girl, hits on the idea of wheedling a free meal from her rich but reticent classmate (Ryuuji) who happens to be the recently orphaned head of a large and powerful syndicate. Tsukasa, the sister, pretends to know who killed Ryuuji's father (though she doesn't). Ryuuji hires her as another bodyguard to try to spot the assassins, threatening her brothers to make sure she tries hard. They manage to catch said assassins (who incidently killed Tsukasa's parents as well), but the imprisoned brothers have run up an impressive debt that Tsukasa is forced to try to pay off by continuing as a bodyguard. And it turns out Ryuuji knows all about her gender. That's just the first chapter; there are many adventures to come.

What works: This will likely a take a while. Better save it for next time.

Update 1/03/2012: Apparently, there's...

"A petition to get Tokyo Crazy Paradise by Yoshiki Nakamura licensed in English" http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/tcp_licensed/?utm_medium=email&utm_source=system&utm_campaign=Send%2Bto%2BFriend

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Fanfiction: Skip Beat!: Curtain Call

If you are interested in reading this, start here or, even if you're a fan, you'll get confused. Note that the disclaimer and introduction still apply. And I'm really almost done with this.

Disclaimer: these characters and scenarios are based on the work of Nakamura Yoshiki and I'm just speculating on what might happen later in the story. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not an original work and I will never try to market or profit by it in any way. The manga is rated "Teen" but this is probably closer to "older Teen" 'cause, unlike the manga, there's actual sex.

"I really liked this robe," she said sadly. "I was barely wearing it. How could you tear it this badly? You only had to open it."

"Forget the robe. Give me a damn answer," Ren growled, dressed fashionably, as usual, as he did her makeup. "Tell me you'll marry me."

"I'm wearing the ring," she said, blushing furiously.

"Don't color up like that unless you want to be kissed. I'm trying to put on blush. Why won't you just say it?"

"What will the president say?"

"Give me your answer and then we'll worry about his."

"What if he doesn't like it...y'know, you with me?"

"Let him find his own girl. Kyoko, why won't you tell me? Don't you want to marry me?"

"Yes, it's just..."

"Yes?"

She peeped up at him from beneath her lashes, sending his heart racing. "I'm afraid if I say it, I'll jinx it."

"Ah." He laughed. "Silly girl. Don't you know I have my own magic? If you tell me you'll marry me, there is nothing in the world that can stop us."

"How do you know?" The eyes she turned on him brimmed with absolute trust.

Time for the last secrets. "Because, we were fated to be together, since the moment you first happened upon me."

She frowned. "At the agency? When you hated me?"

"No. On a river bank where the most beautiful girl in all the world stumbled across a lonely boy and mistook him for a fairy prince. Mistook me."

"Fairy prince?" she asked, her face shocked.

"I was so entranced by this girl, I let her believe, even showing off my agility, up into the sun, so she'd think I could fly."

"Corn? You...were Corn?"

Better get it all. "Kuon," he corrected gently. "Hizuri Kuon. And that was the first time I gave you a stone like that. Less polished but somewhat bigger."

"Kuon. Hizuri Kuon. Hiz—Hizuri!?"

"See, my father already loves you like his own child."

"Father! Hiz—Koo? You're that perfect boy? The one that's dead? His Kuon?"

"I'm not actually dead."

"No wonder Koo went on and on about you. And here I thought he was exaggerating. Wait a minute, he pretended not to know you."

"As did you when you were playing...me. I had to succeed on my own, here in Japan, without relying on his name. It was therapy so I could leave behind the violence and pain. So I could find myself. Just like you found yourself."

"But you love your father!"

"Exactly! That's why I did it. So I'd be a worthy son, so I wouldn't hate myself if he still loved me."

"You are so odd," she said, regarding him critically. "So you're my Corn? Koo's Kuon? Both of them? That means—! And if we get married—!" The many pieces of it seemed to be flying crazily around inside her mind.

He took her hands in his and looked her steadily in the eye. "Fate. You. Me. My father. Then. Now. You saved me then. You saved me now. And my father already loves you."

She calmed down immediately, much the way he thought the stone might work for her. "My Corn. My true Prince," she breathed. "You saved me, then. And now. I never let myself believe you could love me."

"I loved you then."

"So did I," she said, then pinked. "I mean, I loved you then."

He placed his hand along her jaw and held her eyes. "Kyoko. Tell me you'll marry me."

"I'll...marry you."

"Good," he said, dropping his hand so he wouldn't do something foolish and mess up her makeup. After all, she had to be at work in a few hours and he had to get the ball rolling so she couldn't rethink it. "Now to tell the President."

"Won't he be upset?"

Ren grinned down at her, one finger uplifted. "Ah, not if we handle it right. Watch and learn." He dialed a number on his speakerphone.

"Moshi moshi."

"President?"

"Ren! I didn't expect to hear from you! I thought you were shooting a commercial today?"

"It's been rescheduled. President, I have some news for you that you may not like." Ren winked at Kyoko.

"Oh? And why do you sound like you're in a tunnel?"

"Kyoko's here with me."

"Kyoko? You're calling her Kyoko now—"

With studied blandness, Ren said, "We need to get married."

Silence. "Ren, you idiot! She's pregnant, isn't she? She's a promising actress and requires a delicate touch. Have you no concern for her career? You should never have forced yourself on her. Didn't I tell you to control yourself as Cain? Didn't you promise—"

"No—No, President," Kyoko protested. "I'm not pregnant!" She cleared her throat. "And he didn't force anything on me as Cain or anyone else." With her head down, she mumbled, "More the other way around."

Silence. "You mean you want to marry Ren?"

"Thanks, Boss," Ren said, inwardly delighted. It was going exactly as planned. "Am I such a bad prospect?"

"No, no. I just thought you'd drag your feet indefinitely," the President said dampingly. "It's not a good idea. I mean, your fanbase is going to freak, with you off the market. And Kyoko's career is just getting started. And most people know her as a villain."

"Sooooo, even if we played it up, poor little unknown who, through exceptional skills and beauty, climbed the road to success in a year and won the heart of Japan's top acting talent at the same time, it still wouldn't add to the Tsuruga or Kyoko mystique? Still wouldn't charm fans into falling even more in love with either of us?"

"Well, it could certainly be spun that way. I mean, it does have a certain fairy tale aspect. Still, Kyoko might actually be in danger. Some of your fans are quite passionate."

"I was thinking she could use a manager to protect her. She has enough work and exposure, even without this publicity, that she should not be wandering about alone and unprotected, since I can't be with her all the time."

"That's a very good idea. I'll call Sawara this morning. If someone finds out you're involved with Kyoko, she'll be in mortal danger." The President paused. Ren knew what he was thinking: he liked to control everything. He'd want them to wait so he could be more involved. On the other hand, he was not the man to stand in the way of romance. "Maybe, after a reasonable time, we could consider..."

Kyoko looked bewildered. "If...if it's better that no one know I'm with Tsuruga-san, I could keep it quiet. I don't want to hurt his career..."

The President cut in. "No! You mustn't, Kyoko-chan. If there's one thing Ren needs, it's a bit of scandal attached to his name. A quiet hopeless romantic interest in you is a great explanation on why there aren't any other scandals attached to him. A relationship with you could be perfect, for both of you...as long as it's what you want."

"How could I not want it? President," she said, her voice falling to a whisper. "He says he really loves me."

"Yes, dear one. I've known he's loved you for a long long time. But what do you feel? You have to do what you want, what will make you happy? Do you love him?"

"I think I always have."

The President cleared his throat and Ren suspected he was choked up. "Well, that's wonderful. But you shouldn't get married right away."

Kyoko opened her mouth to ask something, perhaps agree, but Ren shook his head. "Pity," Ren said sweetly. "I was going to ask you to arrange a fairy tale wedding for us, as flamboyant and over-the-top as you like, complete with press and celebrities and every imaginable excess."

"Erk," the President choked. "Yes, well, that does sound like a great deal of fun, much like the debut I'd originally planned for Kyoko, but, hmm, well..."

"And I was going to invite my parents, too, and announce to the world who I really was, sharing my most important day with my parents who love me. But I'm sure my mother and father would be happy to wait a few more years. They're not anxious to see me or get to know the woman I love, right? Nor would having Hizuri Koo and the world's greatest model at one of your bashes be a publicity coup, right?"

Silence. "Ren..."

"And, since Kyoko doesn't have a father herself, I think she might have wanted you to give her away. But that's probably not your style."

"It will be the event of the decade, if not the century! Magnificent, my magnum opus! Perfect! We can have it at my home! I can arrange it in...when did you have in mind?"

"I'll have to work with Yashiro and Kyoko's new manager to arrange for several weeks off as soon as I can manage. I want a real honeymoon with Kyoko. Within the next couple of months."

"That doesn't give me much time. I love it! I couldn't be happier for you, too. Where do you want me to arrange the honeymoon?"

"I'll handle that. You just take care of the wedding. I'll give you a free hand. I know just the designer for Kyoko's dress. Oh, and Boss."

"Yes?"

"You can invite anyone you like, including the Love Me Members and my parents, as long as you include Fuwa Sho. And Kyoko's Daruyuma family. Actually, I'd like to invite my parents myself."

"Fuwa Sho? Wasn't he...ah." The President's deep laughter rolled in through the speaker, eventually dwindling down into gasps and coughs. "I think that can be arranged."

"So, can I have Yashiro-san make a press release?"

"I don't think I can get her a manager until tomorrow at the earliest."

"I'll be watching over her today."

Ren could almost hear his smile. "Then you have my blessing." Ren heard the happy sigh. "But you have to be the one to tell Maria."

Click.

And so it began.
* * *
"Yashiro-san?"

"Ren! You should be recovering, though I'm glad I have you on the phone. I was just hearing about an offer just as our most recent project winds down that will keep you busy for months. It's all about..."

"I'm off today and I won't take any job unless it starts several months in the future. In fact, I need you to arrange things so that I have at least three consecutive weeks, preferably four, free within the next three months."

"Three weeks? Consecutively? What? Are you crazy? Ren I don't think it's possible..."

"Oh, and I also need you to draft a press release and get it out as soon as you can manage today: 'Actor Tsuruga Ren and star talent, Kyoko, both of the LME Agency, have announced their plans to get married this winter. The date will be announced later, but the event will be hosted by the President of LME.'"

Ren gave Yashiro a few seconds to sputter.

"Well, if you have all that, Yashiro-san, thanks. K, bye!" Ren hung up on the incoherent squawking with a chuckle.

"That was just mean," Kyoko said. "I got Moko-san's voice mail."

"It wasn't just mean," Ren assured her. "It was fun, too. Yashiro's been teasing me about the way I feel for you since last spring."

She gave him her sternest look, looked away, then slid her eyes toward him under her lashes. "I guess it was a little fun. Oh, that's Moko-san!" She opened her phone. "Moko-san!"

"Mo! What did you mean by leaving that cryptic confusing message on my phone mail. Haven't I told you, if you're leaving a message, to tell me clearly what you want? You were hemming and hawing..."

Moko-san apparently had an impressive set of lungs. Ren could hear her easily. And he was at a loss to understand why Kyoko responded to the vitriol with a look of rapt pleasure. Kyoko tried to break in several times, but, between her embarrassment and Moko-san's impatience, the situation was only getting worse. Ren held out his hand. Kyoko wordlessly handed him her phone.

"Moko-san?"

"What? Who is this?"

"This is Tsuruga Ren. What Kyoko is trying to tell you is that we are getting married in a few months and she want you to be her bridesmaid."

"Mo! You like Kyoko?"

Ren bristled, but kept his voice calm. "At least."

"I knew it! Tell her she's an idiot and I'm really happy for her. Married!" She paused briefly. "She's really special, you know. You may be hot shit to everyone else, but you're lucky to have her. If you ever hurt her like, well you know, I'll kill you myself."

Ren couldn't help smiling. "I begin to see what Kyoko sees in you. Understood." Ren closed the phone and handed it back to Kyoko. "She's happy for you and threatened me. See, you do have good friends."

Kyoko blubbered and Ren did his best to overlook it. That would probably be happening quite a few times the next few months. He just needed to remember kissing her senseless was a good remedy. He'd need more handkerchiefs. "Now," he said, by way of distraction. "To call my parents."

"Koo?"

"Will you join me? You're part of his family just like me."

Damn it. He was going to have to redo her makeup.
* * * *
And, in entertainment news, a media bombshell. Women across the land will be weeping into their tea today: Tsuruga Ren, hottest man in Japan, is marrying Kyoko of the same LME Agency, a young, up and coming actress who's made her name playing villains with chilling intensity in some of the biggest dramatic hits this year. LME is already gearing up for a huge blowout this winter orchestrated by the flamboyant President of LME, Takarada Lori. Preliminary details of the fairy tale romance from LME indicate a love story to melt the hardest heart and we'll likely be hearing more as time progresses. In any case, it promises to be the event of the decade.

Ogata/Momose/Oohara/90% of Dark Moon Staff: "I knew he liked her! Wait, marrying!?"
*
90% of the female viewing public: "Nooooooo! Reeeen! Who the hell is this Kyoko?"
*
Sawara: "Hunh? Ren and Kyoko? When did that happen?"
*
Taicho of Daruyuma frowned at his wife. "I thought you said she wasn't romantically involved with any of her coworkers."

His wife shrugged helplessly. "That's what she told me last summer. But it is Tsuruga Ren. Who could resist him?"

"Hmm."
*
Reino grimaced. "Ah, hell. She would link up with the only guy I can't take down."

"You mean that false angel? She's shacking up with someone else? Too bad, Reino."

"Yeah, I know. It's going to make it much harder to get Valentine chocolates from her next year."
*
"Shou! Shou, they're just about set up for your next session. What's wrong? Are you watching TV? What is it?"

Shou gestured without talking.

"Is that Ren and Kyoko?"

"From some Dark Moon bash last spring."

Shoko schooled her features. She remembered. "She looks lovely."

"They're getting married," Shou shouted, his grimace fearful on his face. "The little nobody managed to catch the gorge-star somehow and now he's going to be her prince? Ha! I give it three months! Everyone will hate her. Her career will go into a spiral. She's never going to get her revenge that way!"

"I don't know," Shoko said quietly. "I can't see how it will hurt her career since no one will be able to talk about anything else for the next three months. You can't pay for publicity like this. And her skills as an actress mean she has a really solid reputation as an actress already. Asami-san told me. Everyone wants to work with her."

"So, what are you saying, I'm going to lose? I've been near the top of the charts for nearly a year!"

"No," Shoko said. "I'm saying, maybe it's no longer about making you lose, Shou. Maybe she's just leaving you behind."

Shoko had never seen Shou look so small. She wondered when he'd recover.

Or if.

See part six: Date with Natsu
See part seven: Shoudown

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Fanfiction: Skip Beat!: Matinee

If you are interested in reading this, start here or, even if you're a fan, you'll get confused. Note that the disclaimer and introduction still apply. And I'm really almost done with this.

Disclaimer: these characters and scenarios are based on the work of Nakamura Yoshiki and I'm just speculating on what might happen later in the story. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not an original work and I will never try to market or profit by it in any way. The manga is rated "Teen" but this is probably closer to "older Teen" 'cause, unlike the manga, there's actual sex.

"It's a good thing I'd brought extra eggs and rice," she told him sternly over breakfast. "Or we'd have nothing to eat."

He noticed there was far more than the omelet in front of him, but he also knew she'd brought everything for that, too. He tried not to smile as he replied meekly. "I know. I need to stock my kitchen."

"Yes," she said firmly. "Fortunately, I have time before my shoot this afternoon. I'd rather not go to that overpriced grocery store in this building, but I suppose you'd be swamped with rabid fans if we went anywhere reasonable."

"I'm sorry I'm so popular," he said, not really meaning it. "We could call Yashiro. He could keep them back and would bust a gut with joy to see us together."

Her face flushed. With clear trepidation, she shoved herself back from the table so she could turn her body to face him. She was wearing only one of his silk robes, too big despite wrapping it carefully around her. She looked fantastic in black. "I have to tell you something. I should have told you last night and never lied about Yashiro."

He felt his body go still, his heart sinking. Too much too good too quickly. How could have ever believed it would be so tidy, that there wasn't some darkness lurking? "What?" That sounded sharper than he intended. He tried to school his face so he wouldn't scowl.

"Don't smile like that!" she begged. "That's the gentlemanly smile that hides lies and vicious retorts."

Surprise must have changed his expression. She sighed and launched into an explanation, without looking him in the face. "Yashiro didn't send me last night. I overheard that you were rescheduling everything so I came on my own."

He snorted, thinking of all the times he'd shamelessly used Yashiro as an excuse, with or without factual basis. "Is that it? Don't worry about that. I'm actually happier knowing you chose to come without prompting. Where did you hear it?"

She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I was in my costume for my regular TV show at the time," she said, her voice just a thread of sound.

"Oh?" he asked politely, before pieces began to fall into place. "Costume. I didn't know you wore a costume." He cleared his throat, letting his jaw harden. "Not, I trust, a chicken costume."

She didn't steal a glance. "Bo. And Bo is a chicken."

He thought back at all the times he'd talked with the stuffed chicken, from the first, the things he'd said and revealed. He remembered the dogeza the first time, the avowal that "Bo" hated him. How could he not have realized it was her? Of course it was. She'd been laughing at him from the beginning.

He could feel the anger, feel it heating him, the ugly words stealing up his throat. Before he could voice them, he took a good look at her and stopped himself. She was shaking, trembling in fear. His first thought, that this was an elaborate joke to mock him for his passion, was readily discounted. Kyoko was not a woman who took love lightly or would hurt another using it unprovoked. She would never have given herself the way she had this morning, without reserve, if she didn't love him. She would never have come last night if she wanted to hurt him, to teach him a lesson. Better, by far, to walk away and leave his heart shattered forever. Still, if she had been the chicken all this time, why had she pretended not to know he'd loved her for so long?

She was talking quickly and in a low voice. "I should have told you before, long before, so you wouldn't be mad. I wanted to thank you in the beginning because your stories of being fired really helped me when I was depressed and feeling hopeless, but you still hated me then. By the time I didn't think you hated me any more, you had told me so much I didn't want you to be angry with me for hearing you under false pretenses."

"So, it was you telling me to expand my relationship with a high school girl?"

"Yes."

He didn't understand. Had she been pretending not to know about his love all this time, recoiling for...what purpose? "Why did you act like you didn't know I loved you for so long? Were you playing with me? Or punishing me by telling me to pursue you when you didn't want me to?"

She looked up at that, her face appalled. "I didn't know you loved me! I never thought—never ever thought—I was the girl you meant when you said you loved a girl in high school!"

"How could you not know it was you?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

"I thought you hated me. I didn't even think about the girl you said you loved then. I just wiped that detail from mind like it had never been. When you started talking about her yesterday, my heart dropped. I'd forgotten all about her. I wracked my brain trying to figure out who you could have been loving all this time, why I didn't know her, how she could turn her back on you."

"Where was I going to fit time in my life for another troublesome girl?" he asked reasonably, trying to fight the inexplicable urge to laugh. She was so obviously sincere. "How could you not have known?"

She heard the laughter in his voice and characteristically bristled. "Well, how was I supposed to realize you could fall in love with someone like me? An amateur. Young and immature. Plain with little sex appeal. Motivated by ugly motives. And you seemed to disapprove of me. You were always picking on me."

"Because I was trying not to fall in love with you, too."

She flung out a hand. "Well, you see where that got us."

The absurdity of the discussion, her inability to see herself in his words, his opening up his heart to the woman he loved because he thought she was a chicken, was more than he could withstand and he dissolved into laughter. When she sputtered, insulted, he snagged her around the waist and rolled her underneath him so he could kiss her breathless.

Of course they both ended up breathless. He forgot how quickly the lust would surface at the slightest touch and she was kissing him more and more passionately until he could feel his control thin to one slender thread. He rolled back off her, taking her with him. "I should have known," he gasped when he could wrench his lips away. "That stupid chicken was so easy to talk to. I never talk to anyone like that. Except you."

"You kept trying to pull my head off," she accused.

"I never could understand why you kept stopping me." He set her back on her knees and sat cross-legged in front of her. Perhaps he should have worn a shirt after his shower that morning instead of just the loose pants. She felt so natural in his home, so natural, it was easy to fall into his normal routine. "Is that why you believed me, yesterday? I always thought, if I told you I loved you, you'd wouldn't believe me. But you did last night, believed me and opened up to me. Is that because you heard me tell, er, Bo?"

She blushed. "You didn't have any reason to lie to Bo and you got angry if you thought I was insulting, er, myself. I felt guilty, too, like I had eavesdropped on you when you wouldn't want me to." She looked up at that, though, her face intent and earnest. "I had all afternoon to figure out what I wanted, what I didn't want, and what to do. I know I cheated, but I'm glad I knew so I could believe you loved me. And you do, right?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "And you're not angry about Bo?"

"No."

She sighed again. "Good. Finish your breakfast."

He laughed but returned to his food. "I'm sorry you'll have to shop with me."

She wasn't fooled. "No you're not." She breathed in carefully, then let it out. "I suspect it's too much to have you shop for yourself, what with all the screaming fans and your inability to comparison shop. I'll just shop for you on my own in the future."

"No," he said, suddenly serious.

She looked up at that. "What's wrong?"

First topic he'd wanted to talk about. "You're a celebrity, too. You've been doing enough jobs, been successful enough, you should have a manager like I do. I can't take you everywhere with me. I don't like you going so many places alone. Since I can't always be there, you need someone. If I have to, I'll talk to Sawara and the President."

"No one ever recognizes me."

"They will." He reached over and stroked fingers along her cheek. "You're too important to be left unguarded."

"I can't afford a manager."

"I'd pay for it rather than let you roam unguarded."

"I can't let you do that," she said, blushing. Before he could retort, she said desperately, "I can't believe Yashiro cleared your whole day. What will you do with yourself?"

Fine. He'd work it with the president whether she wanted it or not. The president would be so thrilled, he'd give Kyoko anything Rem wanted. Rem was surprised the President wasn't already thinking about it. "I'm going to your shoot to watch you in action. I've wanted to do so many times but I've never had the opportunity. What's your schedule for today?"

Her color deepened. "I shoot Box R until 5, then to the TV station until 7. Then, I'd go back to Daruyuma to work. I hardly ever have the chance to any more and they've been so good to me."

"I'm looking forward to it."

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself. "You'd probably find it boring."

"Never," he said, gathering up dishes. "I particularly want to talk to the people at Daruyuma who have looked out for you so long, introduce myself formally. I remember them from Maria's party."

"They are good people."

"Yes. I don't want them to worry about you now that you're with me."

"They don't have to know," she offered, following him to the kitchen where he started washing dishes.

"I'm not keeping this a secret. That's something else I want to talk to you about. I'm favoring a press release. I want people to know you belong with me. It won't stop everyone, but will keep most away. I am not someone most people want as an enemy."

"Your fans are far more dangerous than any of my mythical admirers, Ren. Really." She remembered Ren as Black Jack and shuddered. "I really don't think anyone is really interested," she said, "Except for that stupid Beagle. And he's already afraid of you."

"You've never been aware of how many people find you attractive." Time to address the next topic he needed to tackle. "You don't even think Fuwa wants you."

"He just wants to hurt me."

"He wants to control you. He only tries to hurt you because he thinks that's how to do it. Even he has learned to appreciate you as he never did when you were his adoring dupe." He chose words that were deliberately offensive because he wanted her reaction so he could diffuse it directly.

As he expected, rage flickered over her features. "That asshole."

"He is. And it's past time you let him go."

"What?" she said, the dish breaking in her hand. He removed it gently before she could hurt herself in her conditioned response to Fuwa. "What are you talking about? I won't rest until I've destroyed him."

"At this point, what you gain with your revenge is tiny compared to what you lose. And what for? What did Fuwa cheat you out of?"

"I never had friends growing up. I missed out on school. I trusted him and loved him, only to be betrayed. I couldn't love any more. I lost my home. He made me feel ugly and worthless. I never did anything for myself, consumed with supporting him."

Dishes done, Ren dried his hands then lifted a hand to count off on his fingers. "You have friends now, friends you never would have had if he hadn't ditched you. And, crappy as he was, he was your friend growing up to the best of his limited ability. You're going to school now thanks to your own efforts. He betrayed your trust, but I don't think he ever pretended to be the prince you thought he was, did he? He was deluded as to your worth and attractiveness, but you know better now and have accomplished so much that you never would have done if he hadn't mistreated you or if you had stayed in Kyoto instead. You're not ugly and worthless and ought to be aware of that, now. Now you do what you want to do for yourself and no one else, not even me. You have a home at Daruyuma, at LME, and here."

"You make it sound like he did me a favor."

"He has done you a favor, and me as well, though he did it all to suit his own interests. He hurt you terribly, truthfully, and you deserve to despise him for that. But the reason you're really so enraged is because you're mad at yourself for wasting so much of your life on him. You loved who you wanted him to be, never what he was or even what he pretended to be."

She wanted to argue and he geared himself up for the blast of vicious ire. Instead, she deflated. "So I shouldn't hate him?"

"By all means, hate him. He's a selfish toad and deserves a good kicking. He never gave a damn how much harm he did you as long as he had power over you. Still doesn't. But he's not worth any more of your energy. He can't do you any more harm and, although he didn't intend it, he made it possible for you to find yourself. He doesn't deserve the credit because you've done all the work yourself, but you've already regained everything you lost because you can love again. Right?"

She was always so open to logic. He loved that about her, even for all her emotional highs and lows. "Yes."

"Would you be happier if he hadn't dumped you, if he'd kept you, and you were still slaving away on his behalf with no school or personal accomplishments, just the delusion that he was your prince?"

She shuddered. "No."

"And you love me, I hope, and not some twisted image you think I am. You know my flaws better than anyone. Isn't it different than when you loved Fuwa?"

She frowned. "Yes. I did know his flaws, just pretended not to."

He closed his eyes as pain washed him. "Do you know how jealous I was of him?"

"Of him?" He could have laughed out loud at the horror in her voice. "Why? I hated that jerk! I wasn't jealous of all the women he was sidling up to. I just felt sorry for them."

"And the kiss he gave you on Valentine's Day?" He opened his eyes to read her expression.

Her face was eloquent. "That creep! It was like kissing my brother. Only more wet. Yuck!" She looked up at him in that way that always made his gut clench with desire. "He didn't make my heart race like you did with a look, with a kiss on the cheek."

He chuckled so he didn't grab her. "I like that much better, that he's the spoiled brat of a brother you can't see without squabbling." The last weight on his heart lifted.

He continued. "All that passion for him, so much of it. Funneled into hate but I wondered if, with a little nudge, it couldn't be turned back into love." He let himself touch her face. "I wanted your passion for myself. Or for yourself. Certainly not wasted on that little prick."

He brought his other hand up to cup her jaw. He loved touching her. "Is it wrong to want your passion for myself? I don't want to share your soul with him. Or anyone else." He slid closer and wrapped her in his arms. "I want to have a bigger part of your heart than he has. Is that wrong?"

"You do," she said, as if she were surprised.

"That makes me very happy." He pulled back and smiled at her. "If it makes you feel better, there is no vengeance you could take on him more effective than being successful and happy without wasting a thought on him. Being dismissed as unimportant is far more painful than being hated. Especially, if he sees you being happy and successful with me."

The smile she gave him was evil. "He really does hate you. If he doesn't want me for himself, he'd still hate that I was with you."

"Agreed," he said, trying not to smile himself. "So, we'll invite him to the wedding as your childhood friend." He bent and kissed her, certain his words were understood only when she wrenched herself away.

"Wedding?" she said, shocked, as if he had suggested more grilled frogs.

"Yes." He dropped to one knee, retrieving the box from his pocket where he tucked it after his shower. He opened it. The ring inside was white gold with an oval iolite stone circled by tiny pink diamonds. "I love you, Kyoko. Will you marry me?"

She stood, a Kyoko statue, staring in apparent horror at the ring. Fear gripped him. Of all the things he thought he could do to drive her away, he never guessed this would be the one. "I—I meant to ask you before I—I laid a finger on you, but I, um, didn't pull it off. I always wanted to marry you, Kyoko. Don't—don't be scared. You can say no. It won't change anything."

"It changes everything," she said dully, falling to her knees in front of him and taking his hand in both of hers.

"Kyoko—"

She rubbed her cheek against his finger tips before touching them lightly with her lips. When she lifted her face to his, her eyes were alive but immersed in tears that poured unheeded down her cheeks. "And I couldn't possibly say no."

"Don't cry," he begged, knowing it was useless. He'd expected her to cry half a dozen times the past night, given her emotional intensity. He sat cross-legged in front of her and pulled the ring from the box, slipping it onto her slim finger. He kissed it when it settled into place, a perfect fit.

"How?" she asked, her face astonished beneath the storm of tears.

He shrugged. "I know how to make nice with the wardrobe people. All I needed was your ring size. I don't think they even caught on to the fact I was looking for it."

If her tears had ebbed with her surprise, they flooded now with renewed fervor, "You planned this. It wasn't just because... You really want to marry me?"

Her tears weren't unhappy, but he couldn't bear it much longer. His hands cupped her face, bring that face closer to his. "Why are you asking me after I've asked you, you silly girl?" He closed his eyes and whispered in her ear, "Answer me. Tell me you want to be with me forever."

He could feel the tears fall on to his hand, hear the soft sobbing breaths. "I want to be with you forever. Don't—don't offer it unless you're certain, Tsuru—Ren. I couldn't bear to be discarded again, not by you."

"Never happen. You are my treasure and I won't willingly give you up, not even if you wanted someone else. I would do everything in my power to change your mind. I love you, Kyoko. Marry me."

Instead of answering, she crawled right into his lap, straddling his hips as she plastered herself against his body and latched herself on his mouth greedily.

Lust swamped him, impossible to resist. She was only wearing his silk robe, soft and slippery against him. His hands fisted in her hair and pulled her head back so he could plunder mercilessly. Rather than retreat, she arched against him, her mouth every bit as hungry, every bit as passionate, every bit as demanding.

His hands slid down her back, taking the robe with him. He could feel her bare breasts against his chest, feel the heat between her thighs pressed against him intimately. His fists clenched along her back as he fought the urge to push and take her without restraint. His body burned to have her. Have her now.

"Kyoko," he choked, wrenching his mouth away, but she would not let him go. Her mouth wandered over his face, his neck.

"Don't tell me to stop," she panted between kisses. "Don't stop, either. I need to know what you really feel."

"What?" He felt confused, torn, desperate to hold on to what remained of his control and equally desperate to lose himself in her at last. "You don't know—"

"No, I don't know," she said firmly. "As long as you're in control, you could be acting. I know you're that good. I won't know what you really feel until you let yourself go."

"I can't," he said, as his body strained against his mind.

"Do you want me?" His body surged in response to her words, the feel of her breath against his skin. Unbidden, his hands found her breasts.

"You know I do," he groaned, holding on to his sanity with just his fingernails.

She pulled something from her pocket that she'd snagged from his nighttable. "Show me."

Lost to reason, shame or patience, he stripped off her robe and lost himself in her with her ardent cooperation.

See part five: Curtain Call
See part six: Date with Natsu
See part seven: Shoudown

Read more...

Fanfiction: Skip Beat!: Dinner Theater

If you are interested in reading this, start here or, even if you're a fan, you'll get confused. Note that the disclaimer and introduction still apply.

Disclaimer: these characters and scenarios are based on the work of Nakamura Yoshiki and I'm just speculating on what might happen later in the story. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not an original work and I will never try to market or profit by it in any way. The manga is rated "Teen" but this is probably closer to "older Teen" 'cause, unlike the manga, there's actual sex.

Her blush intensified, but she held her head high as she brought her supplies to the kitchen. "Should I cook later or...?"

Now that he had himself in hand, Ren found himself amused at her confusion. "Let's eat like civilized people and talk."

"Will you kick me out as soon as you've eaten?"

Ah. Her mind, so facile. He'd done that to her before. "I will drive you home when you're ready to go. You can stay as long as you like in the mean time. Or return any time. I can get a key made for you tomorrow if it would make you feel better."

She pulled out green onions and began to chop. "I don't understand you. I thought... You seemed... Now, you're so calm."

He nearly laughed aloud. "You are still desirable. I've just regained my equilibrium. And I'm not scared out of my mind. I'm happy. It's been a long time since I felt so happy."

She set rice cooking, then looked at him suspiciously. "I've never seen you like this. I can't believe you were afraid I'd turn away from you. Even if I didn't love you, I wouldn't have cut you from my life. I've depended on you from the beginning."

"I feel like it was the other way around, that you were supporting me." He slid around the counter and took up her knife. "Here, I can chop these. I just can't be trusted with the actual cooking."

She didn't argue and that made him laugh again. It struck him how comfortable he was cooking with her, working beside her, eating with her, talking with her. His fear of losing her had been undermining his enjoyment of her. Stupid. "Thank you for coming. That chicken was right. I should have told you how I felt a long time ago."

"I can't remember when you seemed so open," she said, with an expression that said she wasn't sure she liked it.

"I'm going to celebrate not scaring you away by getting rid of all my secrets. Ask me anything and I promise to answer truthfully."

The look she gave him was so sly, it reminded him forcefully of Mio. But the question seemed innocuous enough. "You say you've loved me a long time. When did you first start to love me?"

Ah. Was she ready for that, the truth behind her Fairy Prince, "Corn?" Was he? But he couldn't lie. Better address it slowly. "I think I"ve loved you from the first moment, the first time I saw you."

"Liar."

He laughed, having expected that response. "No, truth, but I didn't know I loved you for a long time. I sometimes think I was the last one to know."

"Not hardly. You didn't love me from the beginning. You hated me."

"You mean, when you first joined the agency? I didn't hate you," he said piously. "I disliked you intensely."

She snorted. "Same thing."

"Not the same thing, but that's why I think I loved you from the first. You pulled a response from me, a strong one, instantly. You've seen me work with many people, some of which were nowhere near as professional as they should have been, as you are. Have you ever seen me treat any of them like I treated you?"

"No. Never," she said at once, in a voice that didn't sound convinced.

He shrugged. "My point. I actively didn't want you in the agency, pushed you away with harsh words when you were nice or open with me, more so as my respect for you grew. Why was that?"

"You hated me."

"If I'd really hated you, I wouldn't have had to push you away. I would have stayed polite and distant. I didn't want to fall in love or become attached to someone. I instinctively knew you could undermine my resolve, so I tried to push you away, but I couldn't stop myself from seeking you out either. Even when you tried to avoid me."

Her spoon clattered to the countertop, her face blank as it frequently was as things fell into place for her. Or she was just shocked. "That's right," she whispered. "You were mean to me, but you were kind to me, too. Rude and considerate by turns." She picked her spoon back up and shook it at him. "You were very confusing."

"Yashiro caught on right away. What are you making?"

"Hamburger."

"With a fried egg on top. I remember." It was the first meal they ate together. "Yashiro became positively obsessed that you were important to me from the start and began scheming like a professional matchmaker. Just like he did tonight. Let's not tell him for a while. Drive him crazy."

Color had crept into her cheeks, but she laughed at that. "So, when did you know?"

"Well, I got some hints from a chicken about love, some hints that I might feel that way about you. That's right, chicken. You know that chicken from Yappa Kimagure Rock?"

"Bo," she said automatically.

He glanced at her in surprise. "She did say she knew you." Her cheeks flamed further. She must know the chicken girl pretty well. "She got me thinking and I was all torn up trying to figure out my Katsuki at the time. I didn't know how to express that kind of forbidden love because I hadn't felt it, except 'Bo' said maybe I had. I was still trying to deny it when I had you over that night to help me find Katsuki."

"And you found him."

Ren put the knife down. "Because I found you. Because I found out what it was like to hold someone and not be able to let go, to be so driven to touch them that all your logic and common sense were worthless. When I had you in my arms, I literally couldn't think about anything else but holding on to you forever."

"You did want to kiss me," she accused as meat sizzled.

"I did. Desperately," he agreed, beating back an urge to do so again. One should never distract someone at the stove. He picked up the knife again and began to slice some pickled daikon so he wouldn't be too tempted.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Not until she was frying eggs did she speak. "That's when I first decided never to play a romantic role with you, even though I admired your acting."

"What?" he asked, so shocked he managed to cut himself on the knife. The salt stung and he had to bite down on a curse.

"You should be more careful," she said calmly, rescuing the eggs before taking him by the hand to the sink and running the water to wash away salt and blood. "Let me explain. I saw you with Momose-san, your face, your expressions and I saw her reaction. She didn't want to, but she fell a little in love with you, even outside the role. But, outside the role, you felt nothing for her. Director Shingai said you did that to your co-stars all the time."

"I don't understand."

She turned off the water, but retained her hold on his hand. "I knew you could make me fall in love with you, even if you felt nothing yourself. I didn't want to love someone like that again, love someone who would never love me. Do you understand?"

He wanted to protest even the most indirect comparison to that guy but she brought his hand to her mouth and touched her lips to the tiny nick on his finger. Everything else evaporated from his mind. He gripped the counter on either side of her and bent his head, kissing her as he'd wanted to kiss her in the kitchen that night

The kiss was sweet, soft and undemanding, but he could feel the warmth building. When he would have retreated, she tipped her head up, her hands sliding against his shirt, but not to push him away. Instead, she gripped his collar. His heart began to pound as his breathing quickened. It was a miracle; she was here in his arms. He cradled the back of her head with his uninjured hand and let himself delve deeper, let her feel a little of his heat, his yearning.

But only a little. He pulled back and smiled at her. "I looked that way because I was thinking of you, imagining you. Do you believe me?"

"You look like that now."She shook her head and gave him a little push. "It seems impossible. We should eat before it gets cold." She gathered up plates and headed to the table.

He took a moment to plate the takuan before bringing it and the tea to the table in her wake.

"Why impossible?" he said after they were seated.

She shrugged. He remembered her doing that before when she didn't believe he could desire her. "You could have anyone." She studiously didn't look at him and began to eat.

"That isn't true," he said at once. "And I can explain why, but that's not the important part. Say it was true, so what? If I could have anyone, why wouldn't it be you?"

She reached to her neck to where Princess Rosa hung.

"It's not Princess Rosa. It's not the make-up. It's not the costumes. Though you wear them all well. Inside you, there is this light. Not just guts, not just brains, though you have more than your share of both. It's not just your imagination though yours continues to awe and inspire me. Not just a good soul that always gives even when you're determined to look out for yourself. Even the core of wisdom and nobility that takes my breath away. It's the combination of it all, I guess, or just your unique spirit that amazes me."

She'd stopped eating, staring at him, open-mouthed. He couldn't help laughing. He bent to his own meal so he wouldn't say more. After all, her self image was not going to be healed in one day.

She shut her mouth with a snap, blushing. "I feel like this is a dream. No one's ever talked like that about me."

"That's not true. Many people have noticed your talent. The president was so impressed, he made that section just for you. Director Shingai and Director Ogata have both told me how professional you were, how they were anxious to work with you again."

"They were just—"

"They were not just being polite or nice any more than Kijima-kun or Murasame-kun were flirting with you out of kindness." He couldn't overcome a lifetime of abuse in a night, but, as long as she saw herself as nothing special, she'd never really believe he loved her. She'd always think he'd wake up one day and leave her behind. How could he explain it in a way she'd accept?

He fixed his most innocent look on his face and began to eat. "You know those stories you love, with oppressed girls transformed into beautiful princesses to win the heart of the handsome prince?"

"What?" Her glance was sharper than he expected, but he knew how to play this particular part. He kept his face bland as she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Stories like that. Cinderella. They're all wrong."

"Wrong?" He could see it, now, the anger swelling, her aura beginning take on the edge of rage. She really was something special.

"Wrong. Obviously," he said in his most patronizing tone, lifting a finger for emphasis. "Completely backwards. In the story, the girl is misused but ordinary and must be transformed by some outside magic, right? Magic wand? Magic potion? And only after she's been transformed, the prince recognizes her beauty and falls in love, right?"

"You needn't sound so condescending!" she snapped, eating with determination. She was so cute. She didn't want to start a fight.

Ren said nothing but kept eating, enjoying his food as he did only when she ate with him. It wasn't just the food she cooked, though he'd yet to eat anything she didn't make delicious (well, maybe that horrific energy drink when he was sick). It was her company. He wondered how long he would have to wait...

"What's wrong with that story?"

Ah. "What would be the point? A girl with no actual merit fools a credulous 'prince' through use of a subterfuge, a facade, if you will, of beauty and wealth that she does not actually possess. The prince has no particular charm other his ability to be entranced by the veneer and, of course, his own wealth, though at least his is genuine."

She sputtered for a moment, clearly wanting to argue, but her mind was too capable not to see his logic. Her eyes widened, blank, as she tried to assimilate the implications of her most favored dream being rather unsavory. "So, it's dishonest?" she asked, her voice a thin thread of sound.

He couldn't afford to wait or she would cry. "Just inaccurate. The story is true, but it's been portrayed incorrectly."

"Incorrectly?" she asked, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Naturally. Fortunately, the real story is so much more charming."

"The real story?" Her anger had evaporated, and her despair, leaving a face full of trustful hope.

Her naivete, though frequently frustrating, was also alluring. She needed only a story to appeal to that remarkable imagination of hers. "Of course. Because the magic was within the girl all along, the beauty, the charm, the worth. She was always a remarkable person, full of promise and intelligence and kindness, industry and wisdom. The magic potion or wand, at best, removed the layers that hid her nobility rather than created it, and allowed the girl and every other shallow observer to see the glory she'd always had."

"Always?" she breathed, eyes sparkling.

"Of course. There was no cheat. She'd was already worthy of admiration. That's what makes the story so good."

"So, it's because the prince can finally see her true nature that he falls in love with her!" she exulted, hands clasped as she was lost, again, in the fantasy he'd conjured.

"Certainly not," Ren said, finishing his hamburger and taking a bite of rice. "Such a shallow hero is no match for such a fantastic heroine."

A frown puckered between her brows. "He isn't?"

"Of course not. Who'd want to spend their lives tied to someone who only saw them as beautiful when her wonders were revealed for all to see. Such a fickle bastard would lose interest in favor of the next charming creature that happened across his path, whether genuine or otherwise because such a man is consumed with the appearance of merit, not the merit itself. That's not the man for our hidden treasure."

"It isn't?" He'd captured her imagination, if the misty look in her eyes was any indication.

"No man who needs a magic spell to see such treasure could possibly be worthy of her. Even one who can see may not deserve her, but if he can appreciate her, he can use her as inspiration to overcome his own shortcomings. That's a far more rewarding story than pairing such a paragon with a fatuous self-serving dolt."

He'd crept around the table without conscious volition so he was now within arm's reach of her. He placed his hands flat on the floor on either side of her and leaned in, careful not to touch her, but close enough he could feel her warmth as he whispered into her ear: "I don't deserve you, but I need you. Be with me."

He waited, unmoving. He began to berate himself. This is a girl who'd been recoiling from his smile the past year. What exactly was he expecting?

Just when he might have pulled back, her felt her hands on his face, framing it, The next instant she kissed him, her kiss as sweet as her first one, though not quite as innocent. As her mouth moved against his, he helplessly responded with similar passion. His arms wrapped around her, gently this time, but held her as firmly against his body as before.

He wanted her. Now. This minute. He burned for her. How easy it would be to lose himself with her so willingly in his arms. He didn't understand the change in her, why, when she'd been evading from him for months, she would return his kiss with growing passion, sink her hands in his hair instead of push him away. If he moved too quickly, would he drive her back to avoiding him? If he let her go, even for one night, would everything revert to normal?

He could give her patience. She was so innocent and she deserved to be cherished as she never had been. But he couldn't let her go, not tonight. Perhaps not ever.

He lifted his head, but didn't release her. "Stay with me tonight. I swear not to do anything you don't want, but I can't let you go. I need to hold you," he whispered into her hair. "When do you have to go in tomorrow?"

She lifted her face, her hands sliding out of his hair to cradle his face. "It's Saturday, so I don't have school. I don't have to be on set until one." She brushed her thumb next to his eyes. "Tsurug—R-Ren. You look so tired. You should go to bed right after your bath."

He looked tired. Charming. He loosened his hold on her, but didn't quite let go. "Will you stay?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

He didn't understand why she would, not after resisting so long. But then, he'd never understood the way her mind worked. No one did. That's what was so fascinating about her. "Thank you, Kyoko. Would you like to bathe first? I'll clean up here."

"No, I'll do it. I need to call Daruyuma. You go first and if you would..." she paused, blushing.

"What?"

"I didn't bring any clothes so if you could..."

He smiled. "I can find you something to change into."

Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Quick as the look was, he could guess its meaning. She thought he had clothes from some previous lover hidden away. Well, he probably did, but he wasn't stupid enough to trot them out for her to wear. He'd have to make sure to get rid of them first chance he had.

He showered quickly, leaving one of his pajama tops in the bathroom for her. It would reach modestly down to her knees if not lower. Perhaps he should invest in some clothes for her here; he certainly knew enough fashion designers that owed him a favor. He would love to see her in something truly stunning beyond Setsu's particular tastes (not that she didn't look delicious in anything). Something he bought rather than being borrowed from LME or rented by some other guy. Something sexy that played up her versatile beauty.

Maybe he should have taken a colder shower.

He tidied the apartment, or meant to but she'd already left it spotless, as she took her bath. He tried not to think about her under the spray, soaking in hot water, her skin glistening with moisture. He tried not to think of the condoms his manager had optimistically snuck into his nighttable. What the hell was he going to do? He was never going to stay sane. He needed a drink or a distraction. Something. He had no idea what he was going to say to her and he knew what to say to everyone. Always. Never failed.

Except with her.

She bathed quickly. As he paced his bedroom, an untasted scotch in his hand, the door opened. "I put my clothes in the washer. Is that alright?"

He literally couldn't speak, nearly couldn't breathe. All the saliva in his mouth pooled. Her downed the scotch in two swallows to keep himself from grabbing her.

His pajama top was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen—on her. Blood red, it was huge on her, hanging down to her knees. That should have made it safe. The sleeves had been rolled up nearly to the shoulder, but they still hung halfway down her forearms, her shapely hands pale and slender in contrast. The top button hung down low between her small firm breasts and he could tell that, if she bent even a little, the collar would gape.

"Is it alright?"

"Yeah," he managed, carefully setting his square cut glass on the night table. He was across the room in two strides, cradling her head between his hands, his mouth hot and needy on hers, hungry. His hands slid down her slim back to her muscular butt. He should have given her cotton, not silk.

When her arms slid round his neck, her picked her up as he had once when she'd fractured her ankle. He managed to pull his mouth away, but told her, "I keep underestimating the temptation. Sleeping may be difficult."

"You're not the only one with desires," she said tartly.

His eyes closed as he lowered her carefully to the bed, then slid in beside her. "I can't tell you what that means to me. But I promised. And you are too precious to handle clumsily. I'm satisfied—no really—just to have you in my arms tonight." He folded her in his arms gently and breathed in her scent. His soap, of course, but he could taste the evocative scent of Kyoko underneath.

"And what about me?" she asked.

"You haven't promised anything," he said, chuckling. "You can do what you like to me." He wondered if she'd take him up on it, how she'd act. There was no guessing with Kyoko. He felt her hands feather along his face, his eyes. She'd said he looked tired.

Her heard her sigh before she curled up like a kitten against his chest. Torture, true, but the sweetest and most wonderful torture to feel her warmth against him. Just as he wondered how long it would take to fall asleep, he did so.

When he began to waken, he wondered if he were dreaming at last. His first sensation was that of a soft warm body tucked comfortably in his arm, saturating his senses with her alluring fragrance. Kyoko. As he drifted toward consciousness, he realized she was moving, her body pressing along his length, her hands in his hair, her lips along his neck and jaw. When her fingers tilted his head down so she could kiss his lips directly, he didn't hesitate to kiss her back.

He was fully roused now.

He had forgotten how very passionate she was when she pursued a path, any path, however reluctantly she might first have set forth. Within seconds she had pressed him back on the mattress, her body half-draped over his, as her mouth explored his with growing skill. Fully rested, his body responded before his mind could kick in and quickly short-circuited any rational thought processes.

He did manage to remember to be gentle and kept a tenuous hold on control, letting her take the lead and set the pace. At least for a few minutes. When her fingers began to unbutton his pajamas, he caught her hand and tried to catch his breath.

"Don't," she gasped before he could say anything, "Don't tell me I don't know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Her eyes nearly glowed in her flushed face in the early morning light.

"No," she admitted. "But I don't want to be protected from you or myself any more. I want to be treated like a woman, not a child." Her eyes closed and she put her face next to his as he had the night before, her breath warm on his ear. "I love how you make me feel. I want to feel more."

He almost told her she didn't know what she was asking for, but then, she knew that. Shouldn't she decide for herself? He wanted to show her. But, once she'd gone down that path, she could never come back. "Are you sure? You can take all the time you want to decide. I won't push you." He would certainly try not to, anyway.

"If you want to touch me, I want to be touched. Show me, Ren."

He closed his eyes and took a moment to make sure he had himself in hand. Then, with infinite care and patience, he took the time he needed to initiate the girl he loved into womanhood.

See part four: Matinee
See part five: Curtain Call
See part six: Date with Natsu
See part seven: Shoudown

Read more...

Fanfiction: Skip Beat!: Taking the Lead

If you are interested in reading this, start here or, even if you're a fan, you'll get confused. Note that the disclaimer and introduction still apply.

Disclaimer: these characters and scenarios are based on the work of Nakamura Yoshiki and I'm just speculating on what might happen later in the story. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not an original work and I will never try to market or profit by it in any way. The manga is rated "Teen" but this is probably closer to "older Teen."

When Ren parked his car, he felt drained after an afternoon that had dragged at snail's pace, filled with retakes and delays that had pushed him beyond the projected end time of six. Even if he had not been the cause of the retakes, he hadn't had the strength to herd his co-star into competence this time.

Even so, he felt a sense of relief. No other jobs stared back at him that evening, no rushing to another task. More than that, he felt inexplicably like a weight had been lifted after his talk with the friendly chicken. He couldn't say why, exactly. His situation had not changed, other than getting a bit of a break, but the real problem, his conflicting need/fear to touch Kyoko, was effectively unchanged. Except, for some reason, he didn't feel quite so worried about it. That chicken had his own magic. Her own magic. Funny, he'd never realized the chicken was a girl before. He wondered if he'd recognize her out of costume.

Of course, he had no idea what he should do with the time Yashiro and the chicken had forced on him. He was exhausted, but he didn't think sleep would come easily. As for food, he couldn't begin to imagine what he could eat. Kyoko would certainly scold him if she saw how poorly his kitchen was stocked.

Damn it. He wanted to call her Kyoko, not Kyoko-chan or Mogami-san. The chicken called her Kyoko. Yashiro did, Ogata. The stalker. Even that idiot, Fuwa, called her Kyoko.

Sitting in the car was accomplishing nothing, he told himself. He opened the door and nearly smacked it into Kyoko, who was leaning over to rap on his window. "I'm sorry, Mogami-san. Are you all right? What are you doing here?"

"Yashiro-san said you were going home earlier than usual today and needed a meal, so I offered to make you one. I thought I was going to be late, but it looks like it worked out just perfectly," she said, looking up at him through her lashes like she frequently did when she was embarrassed. His brain stuttered in response.

Yashiro, that busybody! Trying to behave like a gentleman with Kyoko spending the evening with him... He already felt stretched to his limit. "That's very kind of you, Mogami-san," he said with his most polite smile. "But I ate on the way home."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh? What?"

Shit! His mind was a blank. "Grilled frogs."

She didn't even dignify his lie with a reply. "Tsuraga-san, you have to eat decent food regularly or you will end up sick again. When was the last time you ate a real meal?"

The last time she cooked him something as Setsu, but he knew better than to bring that up.

She probably guessed from his face. She shook her head, her finger up, and said loftily. "I've brought food to cook and I'm not leaving until you've eaten it."

"I'm really not hungry," he offered, as he gestured her into his building.

"I'm not leaving..."

Ren sighed, resigned. "Until I've eaten a decent meal. I understand. You are very persistent." He ushered her into the elevator. They were the only ones in the elevator, but she seemed content to be quiet since she'd won her point. As they exited the elevator to his private hallway, he tugged at his tie, wishing he'd dispensed with it after his work that afternoon. Was the hallway overly warm?

He felt her fingers on his tie and stopped still, scared to move as he stared down at her.

"Your tie is askew," she told him. "In all the time I've seen you, I've never seen you look disheveled except for a role. Even when you were sick. You must really be tired." They weren't two steps from his front door, but she'd put down her bag of supplies and was working at the tie with both hands. "Do you want it straightened or do you want it off?"

He couldn't breathe, the air backing up in his lungs. Her hands tight on his tie, he couldn't escape, couldn't... He closed his eyes, his fingers splayed against the side of her throat an instant before he swooped down and captured her mouth in the gentlest possible kiss.

Bloody hell.

He'd kissed women before. He knew how he felt about her, how much he loved her, wanted her. He knew how close to the edge he was. Still, he wasn't prepared for the storm of emotions that threatened to wash him away or drown him. Her mouth was so soft, so sweet, so honest that the slightest taste made him ravenous for more. He trembled with the effort it took not to plunder or even explore.

He expected her to push him away, perhaps hit him. He was careful not to hold her or pull her in anyway, but she didn't move away, even as the kiss spun on, shredding his tenuous hold on sanity. Instead, her hands tugged harder on his tie as she tipped her head to more fully meet his lips. When her mouth opened slightly in a little sigh, he tore himself away out of self-preservation.

She didn't let go of his tie and stumbled forward with the force of his retreat. "Mogami-san, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean—."

She stopped him with fingers against his lips. "Was that a role you were playing?"

He frowned down at her, him mind too befuddled to make sense of what she asked him at first. "No, I was just..." She stopped him with fingers again and left one finger tracing the shape of his lips, sending desire raging through his body.

"Then that was my real first kiss. Don't say you're sorry unless you wish you hadn't kissed me. Do you?"

"No," he breathed, on the edge of madness, still leashed by his tie as her other hand danced over his face. "Unless you throw me out of your life."

"Why did you kiss me?"

He closed his eyes, lost to sensation. "I love you."

She gasped as if such a thing was a shock. "Not like a coworker or a kohai or a sister, right?"

The notion was so ridiculous, that his eyes popped open. "What? No!"

"You desire me?" Her voice was incredulous, skeptical, with such a look of hopeless yearning on her face that he snapped. In one movement, his hand fisted in her short hair, forcing her face up as his other arm lifted her to crush against his body while his mouth feasted on her untutored lips. When she melted against the onslaught, her hands wrapping around his neck, he groaned and pressed her against the door as his hand roamed over her body.

If her mouth was unskilled, she was enthusiastic and a quick study. The scent of her, warm and mysterious, the sweet and pungent taste of her, the feel of her soft flesh against his body as she wrapped her legs around him to support her weight sent his need up yet another level. He wrenched his mouth away from her to press hot kisses on her jaw and neck, murmuring as he did so, "Kyoko, I want you! I need you. You have to believe me."

"Yes," she choked out as he ran his tongue along her earlobe.

"I ache from wanting you. You drive me mad. I can't think any more for needing you. Please, Kyoko, don't leave me."

"No."

As his mouth blazed a trail to the nape of her neck, she bent her own head and brushed her teeth lightly along his ear. His fingers spasmed and, for just a moment, he could see losing his last thread of control and taking her right here against his door. Charming, his mind scolded. Fine way to treat the woman you love, slaking your needs with no thought of her, taking her first time like an animal in this hallway.

He released her instantly, slamming his hands against the wall as he tried to regain his rationality. She was wrapped around him, arms around his neck, legs about his waist, so she was still pressed hard against his straining body.

"Ren," she whispered against his ear—and the sound of his name nearly sent him over the edge again—"Is something wrong?"

"Yes. You deserve better than to be treated like this. I'm—"

"Don't say you're sorry," she warned him, sliding down his body in a way that nearly sent his eyeballs rolling back in his head. She let him go with obvious reluctance and bent to retrieve her bag of groceries. At the gap between her top and her skirt, he could see red marks where his fingers had dug into flesh. He was a brute.

"Don't come in, Kyoko. I can't be trusted. I'm exhausted, needy, my control in pieces. If you come in with me right now, I can't promise what I'll do to you, what I'll be able to keep from doing to you."

She looked at him directly, color staining her cheeks, her eyes huge in her pointed face, her mouth bruised and inviting. "So, if I come in, I take my chances. Understood."

"You don't understand."

She took a step closer, standing just under his outstretched arms, close enough he could feel her heat. "I do understand. I understand that, if I come in with you, it will because I'm willing to do what you want with me, even if it scares you, even if it scares me. My choice. I'm not leaving until you've been fed."

He couldn't fight her of course. He wanted her there, in his apartment, more than he wanted to breathe. And neither of them would likely sleep tonight if they left it as it was. He was going to have to find a way to talk to her, tell her the whole story, without losing his last remnants of decency. But he needed one answer before he could let her in. "Why did you let me kiss you that way? Why would you take that kind of risk, coming into my apartment when you know how I feel about you?"

She shrugged. "I love you. I trust you. I have for some time, but I didn't think it was possible that you—"

He wrapped her in his arms as a completely different emotion flooded him: tenderness. How could he have lost sight for even a moment of how precious she was, how fragile, how inexperienced she was? She was his treasure. Even after he'd abused her faith in him, she still said she loved him when there was nothing she feared more than loving someone. When he thought about that, rebuilding his crumbling self-control wasn't nearly as difficult as he'd expected.

She mumbled into his shirt and he allowed himself a little squeeze.

She tipped her head back so she wasn't smothered and tried again. "Tsuruga-san..."

"Ren," he corrected, brushing the back of his fingers along her cheek. "And let me call you Kyoko."

She pinked charmingly, but didn't argue. "R-Ren, are you going to unlock the door?"

He chuckled. "I will. I'm sorry if I scared you, Kyoko. I won't hurt you again, I promise. I can behave myself, and I won't do anything—else—you're not ready for."

"Because I'm immature?" she asked sharply as he released her.

"Because you're precious and deserve consideration," he said gently, opening the door. "You are not to sell yourself short to me or anyone else."

See part three: Dinner Theater
See part four: Matinee
See part five: Curtain Call
See part six: Date with Natsu
See part seven: Shoudown

Read more...