Disclaimer: (insert clever statement here) I do not own Skip Beat!

A/N: Hello, all… it's been a while since I've published, but this came to me one night, and I've decided to go with it. This is a multi-chapter, but, due to hectic life, I cannot guarantee fast updates; I'll post them when I get around to it. And I am determined to finish this… it's not going to be very long, but we'll just see how it goes. Anyway, since Skip Beat! is awesome and doesn't have very many fanfictions, here is one to add to the list… review to give advice and encouragement, but please do not say a bunch of absolute crap. Thank you for being patient, and I hope you enjoy the fic

Floodgates

Chapter One

Vulnerability

Every thought that ran through Ren's mind confused him more, spinning around his head. The very situation he stood in was difficult, and he pondered the new development as he sat at the girl's bedside, tenderly laying a hand on her head. He smiled unconsciously as she shifted into the comfort of his palm, her hair like a whisper when it passed through his fingers like fine silk.

Kyoko had fainted while on the set, and in the middle of a scene, nonetheless! It had scared most of the cast, especially Momose-san, who had been acting with the girl at the time. Although hid carefully, Ren's heart had nearly stopped, and he had found himself at her side not long after. He remembered how he had ghosted his palm against her forehead, wincing at the heat. He had immediately taken her to his apartment, laying her in his own bed.

Presently, Ren was desperately trying to remember how she had nursed him; the whole ordeal was fuzzy to him, as he had been nearly delirious with his fever. He had enough mind to get her a cold strip, which lay on her forehead at a crooked angle. He, having never had to deal with sick people, was at loss as to what to do besides that. So there he sat, stroking her head caringly, drowning in his sea of thoughts, which is how the girl woke to find him.

Kyoko felt like she sat in the middle of a blizzard; she was cold, and she didn't like it. However, despite the shivers that racked her body, she seemed comfortable. Someone, she could tell, held a hand to her head, and it made her feel at ease. Subconsciously she wondered who it sat at her side, although, to her reluctant admittance, she hoped it was him. When she opened her eyes, her sight was clear, although the same could not be said for her mind. Her head buzzed angrily, and the actress vaguely remembers her episode at the studio.

Kyoko groaned, snapping the man out of his trance, and turned on her side towards the edge of the bed. Ren breathed a silent sigh of relief as she blinked open her eyes.

"Mogami-san…"

She shifted nearer, and he noticed her eyes were glassy with fever. "Hey, Ren."

He could feel his heart skip a beat before speeding up a bit. He knew that it was because of her lack of clarity, but it did not keep him from wanting to hold her. Instead, he chose to run his knuckles lightly over her cheekbone. "How did you get this sick, Mogami-san?"

"Hmm… I haven't been sleeping well lately," she whispered, leaning into the hand that was ghosting over her face. "Did I worry everyone?"

"You nearly gave Ogata-san a heart attack," the poor man panicked, muttering about how he worked her too hard or had given her too many lines, neither of which being true, as his staff assured him, "and Momose-san a scare," the woman had screamed when Kyoko as Mio had fallen to the ground, "but that was the end of it." Ren, not for the first time, had lied. He had been as worried, if not more so, than the director, and still remained so. Kyoko murmured her understanding, closing a few fingers around the hand resting next to her on the sheets. Again, the man was startled, but let it go; Kyoko was not quite lucid yet, that he knew.

This side of Kyoko was one he had yet to understand. It was difficult to handle, especially after arguing violently with the adamant Kyoko the night before. This Kyoko, the vulnerable Kyoko, was strange, almost foreign in her actions. The grateful shine under her clouded eyes drew Ren in, and the light grip on his hand begged him for companionship. He returned the subtle gesture, encompassing her delicate hand in his large. She smiled airily, allowing her eyelids to fall once more.

He knew this feeling was wrong; the feeling that being where he was (at her side, hand in hand) and what he was doing (gently running his thumb over her knuckles, alternating between strokes and small circles) was perfectly comfortable and right. His gaze on her sleeping form slipped into a loving look. He should not be doing this, feeling this. She still attended highschool – despite what the giant chicken said, any relationship would be a taboo. He did not want to hurt her, and so, for that, he would suppress those feelings a bit longer.

His only problem was that he could not predict when the floodgates would burst open.