Triple Threat

Chapter One: Shiwasu

A/N: So, like I said, I edited a little but for the most part, this is still what Skyuni wrote! Past this chapter, things'll be all mine.

As the camera clicked and flashed, Shiwasu smiled, disregarding the large crowd gathered in front of the cafe. The small thought flickered through her mind that even without the advertisement spreads she was about to be featured in, her appearance would do more than enough for the small bistro.

"Isn't that Moshi-chan?" a girl squealed, pointing excitedly at her.

"She must be having a shooting today," a boy exclaimed, his expression bright.

She clamped down on the urge to meet his words with a smile and wave, knowing that she wasn't here to encourage her fans. Instead, she balanced a raspberry upon her spoon and stared at the thing in a silly manner to give time for the camera to capture the moment before she took the bite.

"I hope I can get a signature!"

The tart flavor exploded in Shiwasu's mouth and she almost winced. Almost.

After all, if she couldn't handle this, she didn't deserve her job. A professional model didn't allow a small inconveniences- like the fact she actually hated tart flavors- to hinder her. A professional can handle- and even take advantage of- anything.

Amidst the chatter of people standing in front of her, Shiwasu's legs began to fall asleep. She shifted her position in the rather stiff plastic chair. The bones in her back popped a little when she moved. She almost frowned at her terrible posture but managed to cover it up by stuffing the spoon her in her mouth as she crossed her legs again. Her gaze flickered to her manager who waved in response.

The woman's face had a smile plastered in place, her glossy black hair spilling messily from her ponytail, covering the edges of her shiny black sunglasses. Just barely the picture of professional grace, the only tell-tale sign of Mariko's impatience was the taping of her foot against the legs of the table she sat at.

Her attention was dragged away from the woman as the a faint, beating sound caught her attention. It was in a rhythmic manner, similar to that of a drum's measure or a heart's pulse. Her head turned instinctively and she found the source immediately- a kid who almost melted into the crowd. He was tiny and his hands tinier. Somehow, however, he managed to dribble a basketball against the sidewalk even though it was much bigger than his own head.

Her lips twitch slightly at the sight of the flamboyant, orange thing. She'd always wondered how someone could become so obsessed with basketball.

Moshi hated it.

Moshi didn't understand the point of basketball- well- all sports in general, she reminded herself. From what she's heard, basketball was noisy and sweaty, which was just disgusting to begin with.

And Kami, the smell.

Shiwasu wrinkled her nose at the thought of that terrible stench. She'd once sat next to a basketball player- back when she attended a public middle school- and it was the most terrible experience in her life.

A sour, almost acidic scent- she doesn't even want to think about it. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably, threatening to eject what little she'd managed to eat. She dropped the spoon to raise one, delicate hand to her mouth.

"Moshi-chan, don't make a face like that!" cried the director in a wimpy, fake English accent. Kami, that man was annoying. "You're supposed to enjoy the parfait!"

Closing her eyes against the glaring rays of the sun, Shiwasu smiled instantly towards the camera. If she had to force herself to smile at him one more time...

"Sorry~ It won't happen again!"

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap as she struggled to stay silent beyond those few words. How could she act so childishly?

The director glanced at his watch, holding his clipboard over his chest with a dejected sigh.

"It's all right, Moshi-chan. The time's getting late anyways, so that's it for today! Thank you for your work."

"Thank you," the assistants all chorused in response.

Leaving the plastic cup of melting ice cream on the small table, Shiwasu smiled as she stood. Her foot hurt, pins and needles stabbing it over and over again.

"Thank you," she echoed, her fingernails digging to her palms just a bit harder.

______________

Once in the limo, Shiwasu's smile quickly transformed into a scowl.

"Mariko, how could you not tell me that I was sitting like that! And, Kami, why did you give me such a terrible job? Out in the sun during spring! You know I'm not supposed to tan!"

Rolling her eyes a little behind the sunglasses, the woman licked her finger and leafed through the papers trapped on her black clipboard.

"Enough complaining, Shiwasu-hime. We're heading over to another shooting-"

"What? But we just finished!" she whined.

"Let me finish before you interrupt," Mariko retorted with a small grin. "As I was saying, the next shooting is for TORI magazine. It's a casual fashion, indoors, with air conditioning. Two other models will be participating, both male. I'm guessing it'll last four hours, which is well before your bed-time. Is this all right for you, Shiwasu-chan?"

Shiwasu almost laughed loudly, checking herself. Something about the sarcastic edge to Mariko's voice made her foul mood fall away.

"Fine, fine," she giggled, nesting her head against Mariko's shoulder. "Sorry, Mariko-san, I'll behave. Who am I working with this time?"

Adjusting her sunglasses, Mariko flipped through her papers once again. Her eyes scanned the small print before her.

"Let's see... Kanehara Takeshi- oh, Kanehara! I remember him. He's the one who asked for your autograph that time."

The pinkette smiled at the memory of the doe-eyed boy. She definitely remembered him as well.

"Yeah, I like him," she said, twirling her hair around her pinky. "He's kinda sweet- and cute. So, who's the other one?"

Mariko smiled as she uttered the name.

"Ryouta Kise."