He doesn't know, Kyoko thought, skipping down the hall. He has no idea it's me! As she passed a member of the technical staff on the way to the lunchroom, she remembered herself, smoothed out her skirt, and returned to her usual staid gait. The moment the man was gone, though, she burst into a grin and performed a gleeful pirouette.
She wouldn't have to endure insults, yelling, or his arrogant, condescending attitude. For the next week, he would maintain his aloof, cool-guy image—and since to him, she was just another actress he'd be working with, he wouldn't so much as glance at her outside of filming. Sure, she'd still have to kiss him, but the kiss itself was nothing compared to a week of shooting with a Shotaro that was aiming to annoy her.
Of course, Kyoko knew that at some point the truth would come out, and she'd probably be the recipient of more angry, accusatory phone calls, but there was no point in thinking about that now.
Best of all, she thought happily, no one will think we're dating each other. Everyone will just see us former co-workers who don't get along.
Wait! It suddenly occurred to her. Everyone! The last thing she needed was to have the cast and crew expose her before the cameras even started rolling. She needed to take precautions—last time she'd been in this position, she'd had the advantage that only Mimori knew who she was, but this time, everyone on set was a risk.
This revelation taken into account, she rushed back to the dining area. The director was heavily immersed in a discussion with his assistant director and the more protagonistic members of the cast, but pushing her natural unassuming tendencies aside, she marched up to his table, bowed suddenly and sharply, and cutting the man off midsentence, said, "Excuse me, Director, but there's something I need to discuss with you."
The director openly stared at her, mouth gaping in surprise. Of all the people to interrupt him, especially in such a public way! "Um...of course, Kyouko-chan. How can I help you?"
"I want...rather, I would like..." she stuttered, head still lowered.
"Yes?" the man prompted.
"If it's no inconvenience..." she continued vaguely, clearly losing her nerve.
"Kyouko-chan, if we need to discuss this in private—"
She finally jerked up, shaking her head violently. "No, everyone should hear," she said. "I would appreciate it if, for the remainder of filming for this week, everyone could please refer to me as Natsu."
Director Annaka took a moment to absorb the odd request, then responded,
"...can I ask why?"
Kyoko paled. Of course he'd need a reason! Think!
"Um...well..." she said, avoiding his gaze. I can't tell him the truth; that would defeat the whole purpose! If they know that we're more than co-workers there's no way they won't read something romantic into our relationship.
Romantic...As abruptly as if a light bulb had lit up over her head, she found the answer.
"I—I didn't want to mention this," she said diffidently, managing with some small effort to bring a blush to her cheeks, "but I'm a little uncomfortable with the flirting in some of the scenes. I can do it, of course," she asserted quickly, not wanting to give the wrong idea. The whole point of the intensive training over the weekend was make sure she seemed capable and prepared, and she didn't want to negate those benefits by playing up her naïveté too much. "But I feel like I would be better able to handle everything if I stay in character as much as possible. Natsu has no problem with" she tossed in a stammer for good measure, "k-kissing. And if everyone," she gave an appealing glance to her fellow actresses, "would be so kind as to play along, then I don't think I should have an problems."
It seemed to work well enough. The older staff members smiled indulgently at her innocence, and Rumi even caught her eyes to give her a sympathetic look. But, she knew, it would all come down to the director.
"Well, okay," he said easily. "If that's what you need to deliver a compelling performance. I'll make sure everyone knows." She let out a relieved sigh on the inside. He was, after all, the same man who had allowed Chiori to dump nail polish remover all over a girl's head for the sake of an impactful scene, so something like this wouldn't seem too extreme to him. If it were any other director—
"But, Kyouko-chan," he said, bringing her back down to earth. "In the future, if there's something you're uncomfortable with doing, or if something's troubling you about a scene, please feel free to talk to me about it."
Kyoko blinked, surprised by the suddenly serious expression on the man's face. Maybe she'd laid it on a little too thick. "Um...of course, Director. Thank you for your concern." She gave another bow and retreated to the lunch table where Chiori had saved her a seat.
Okay, she thought. Now all I have to do is stay in character whenever he's around, hope no one else slips and that he doesn't happen to somehow figure it out on his own, and I should have a peaceful week. I can do this.
"Kyouko-san?" Oops, she thought, jerking her head back up to turn her attention toward Chiori, who must have been speaking to her for some time if her confused tone was anything to go by.
"Yes?" She asked. "Sorry, I was thinking about something."
"Did something happen when you went to greet Fuwa-san?" Chiori asked. For her to suddenly make an announcement like that..."You seem...off."
"No, nothing," she said quickly. "It was a normal greeting. Really."
Chiori looked at her oddly. "He didn't say anything rude, then? He didn't seem very polite earlier. He only took the time to greet the lead actress, and he didn't even acknowledge you when you've worked together before. Of course, maybe when you're that famous, you think the rules of common courtesy don't apply to you," she concluded angrily, gripping her chopsticks so tightly that one snapped in half. She schooled her expression, re-donned her cute girl façade and turned back to her sempai. "But everything was fine?"
"Well," she admitted. "He actually didn't recog–remember me," she corrected quickly. "I shouldn't be surprised," she said with a self-deprecating laugh, "everyone says I look so different from one role to the next, and we really had very little screen time together."
"Still, that's got to be annoying," her friend said, "to think he could forget you so easily."
"It's fine," Kyoko shrugged helplessly. "Honestly, I'd be just as happy if he never managed to connect the dots."
Ah, Chiori thought. Is that the real reason for the name change? She doesn't seem like the type to have trouble with doing unpleasant things for the sake of acting. As a fellow member of the LoveMe section, Chiori understood the aversion to onscreen romance—case in point, her description of such activities as "unpleasant"—but this was the first time she'd seen any actual proof that her perpetually cheerful sempai had those same hangups, probably because she'd been working to get over them for longer. As soon as Fuwa Sho showed up, though, the issues had reappeared. What exactly is that guy to her? She wondered.
Well, if you never ask...she thought. "Because you 'didn't exactly get along'?" she quoted, hoping to nudge the girl into some explanation of her feelings toward the Visual Kei singer.
Another shrug, even more noncommittal than the last. A few moments passed in relative silence as Kyoko unwrapped her bento and pulled apart her chopsticks, frustrating Chiori's curiosity.
"If you don't mind me asking, Kyouko-san, just what did Fuwa Sho do that bothers you so much?" She finally said, opting for the direct route.
Kyoko stiffened again, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. She tamped down the explosive anger she usually felt when asked to recount the story of her time with Shotaro—the one that would take three full days to relate—and once again pulled out her professional smile.
"If it's all the same to you, Amamiya-san, I'd just as soon talk about something else." The oddly dark aura that seemed to swirl just behind the smile was enough to dissuade Chiori from asking further, and she obediently changed the subject.
"Um... Oh!" She said, landing on something she'd been wanting to ask before. "I noticed that you weren't wearing your necklace in the scene, but I'm sure I saw you wearing it when you came in. Did the chain break again?"
"Hmm?" Kyoko absentmindedly touched her neck where Princess Rosa should be hanging. "No, she's fine," she said, shaking her head. "The writers asked if they could use her as a plot point."
Chiori was used to her co-worker's bizarre tendency to refer to the necklace as if it were a person, and was unfazed by the out-of-place pronoun. "How do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, it's supposed to be one of the early warning signs that Natsu is becoming too obsessed with Chitose," she began. "Before, she always had a number of girls she would pick on, but Chitose is the first to have lasted so long, showing a cheerful face even after everything that's happened. So, Natsu gets interested in just her and eventually starts to lose control in other aspects of her life.
"The first major sign is that she forgets to be as attentive to her appearance as she used to," she continued. "Things like her uniform being not as neat, or forgetting to keep up her good-girl act in front of teachers. But this is really just foreshadowing. We won't be starting that as much until next season, when Chitose starts to stand up for herself and Natsu starts falling apart, until even the girls in her bullying group lose respect for her."
"Except for Kaori," Chiori tacked on. Kyoko nodded. "So they asked you not to wear it? Then why bring it in?"
"They want to shoot a small scene where Natsu is getting ready, and Princess Rosa is laying on her dresser, forgotten. They figure not many people will be able to understand the significance, but they thought it would be a fun scene to add—kind of like an Easter egg for really dedicated fans." She smiled. "I thought it was an interesting idea, so I gave them the okay."
Chiori smiled in return, glad to have gotten Kyoko out of her strange mood. She moved to start eating from her bento again when it finally registered that one of her chopsticks was in pieces. "Again?" She muttered. "Excuse me, Kyouko-san," she said, standing up from the table. "I need to get a new set of chopsticks."
"Please do," Kyoko said politely. She opened her own bento and was poised to put the first piece of fried chicken into her mouth when she felt the presence of someone else. Wondering if Chiori had forgotten something—although what she could have forgotten on a trip to get utensils was hard to imagine—she looked up to see the all-too-familiar face of her childhood friend as he stood over her.
"Mind if I sit here?" He asked casually.
He was outfitted in the show's school uniform of suit and tie, although the color was different from her own to indicate his status as an upperclassman, and he carried one of the bentos provided by the show. The overall effect reminded her rather forcibly of their junior high years, and she found herself momentarily stunned, unable to respond.
Then, her demons screamed to be released on his smug, smug face, and she remembered where she was. She took it as a sign that her acting had improved when even in spite of her surprise she managed to make an almost immediate switch into her Natsu persona. A sly smile spread across her face, and she said equally as casually, "Why not?"
"I'm Sho," he said, settling into the seat next to her. Unspoken were the words, but of course you know that already. "What's your name?"
"Just call me Natsu," she said. Egotistical bastard. She then turned back to her lunch, projecting an air of total indifference as she picked up a small clump of rice, examined it, placed it in her mouth, and chewed slowly.
The apparent lack of interest didn't seem to bother him; he only raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I hope you don't mind me eating with you. This whole 'acting' thing is still pretty new to me," he said lazily, as if her profession was merely a hobby he'd decided to dabble in, "and since we're going to be spending a lot of time together on set, I figured we could get to know each other a little better." He leaned in until she could feel the heat radiating off of his body.
"Why bother?" She asked, still not looking at him. "Technically, you're Chitose's love interest," she pointed out breezily, "shouldn't you be getting to know Rumi?"
"True," he said with a chuckle, "but, Natsu-san, I noticed that you especially were looking at me pretty intensely earlier." Glaring at you, she corrected mentally. "So I figured, if there are any questions you're burning to ask me," his voice got low and rough, "well, I've never been one to disappoint a fan." This prompted a mental eye-roll on Kyoko's part, but Natsu's face remained impassive.
"Besides, you're the one I'll be kissing," he added matter-of-factly. He moved in further, lips almost touching her ear, and whispered, "I could give you a few pointers, if you want."
Kyoko wanted very badly to back away and get as much distance from him as possible, utterly bewildered by his attitude towards her, but instead chose to leave the reaction to Natsu.
The charismatic high school girl held a hand out in front of her, idly examining her manicure, then threw him a questioning glance with one perfectly-plucked eyebrow arched above the other. "Pointers?" She echoed coolly. A small, condescending smile appeared on her face and she gave an artful giggle. "As if I—" Suddenly, before she could finish her thought, she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye.
A camera tech had approached the table where the two performers were sitting and, with a quick bow, started to say something.
"Excuse me, Kyou—" She sprung from her chair, letting the scrape of its legs on the linoleum floor cover the last syllable. The man was slightly taken aback at the quick response and stopped speaking altogether.
"May I help you?" She asked, the smile she directed at him making it very clear how displeased she was. Obviously, not everyone had heard her special announcement. She just hoped Shotaro hadn't noticed.
"Um, well," he said, cowed, "sorry to i-interrupt, but as soon as you're done with lunch you're needed back on set to do a re-take of the last scene. We were running through the footage, and it seems there was some kind of strange interference with the camera...almost like there was this dark shadow over everything—"
"I'll be right there," she said briskly, collecting her lunch up again. She hadn't even touched the thing, but better to get away as soon as possible. She readied herself to follow the tech, who was further characterizing the interference as "a bunch of tiny, scary-looking faces," when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Looking up, she met Sho's eyes full force. There was no sign of recognition, thankfully, but he did grace her with a cocksure smile and and the parting words, "see you around."
This may be harder than I thought, she realized.