A/N: This has been languishing on my laptop for ages, so I figured I'd finally post it. Since writing it, I've come across a similar story called Nii-san by Jack Ash. It's a good read, I recommend. I did not copy it, though. Also, Skip Beat is not mine.

Her appearance on the set caused an instant sensation.

It had been a slow morning. Ren and Itsumi had been performing an emotionally charged scene and Ogata had insisted they try it again and again, trying different expressions, tones and gestures to get just the right look. When the director was finally satisfied, he'd called for a fifteen minute break and was immediately engrossed in reviewing the footage with his camera men, leaving the rest of the cast and crew to their own devices.

"Well, I'm glad that's finally over, Kimura-san," Itsumi told her manager in an undertone. "I don't think I could have kept up that expression of 'agonised uncertainty' much longer. And Tsuruga-san wasn't helping."

"He's enough to distract any woman," her manager agreed with a twinkle in her eye that belied her solemn expression.

Itsumi flushed. "Well, there is that... I mean, no! I meant he seemed a little distracted. Don't you think?" Seeing Kimura's expression, she continued. "I suppose it wasn't much, and from where you were, maybe it wasn't noticeable, but I'm sure he's normally a little more focused. I think the director noticed too. It'd explain all the retakes, at least partially," she added a little defensively, at her manager's raised eyebrow. She was not one of those actresses who blamed retakes and NGs solely on her co-stars!

"You may be right." Kimura glanced over to the discrete corner where Japan's number one heart throb was currently leaning against a wall, apparently equally relieved to be out of the spotlight for a while.

Kimura Sakura, manager to one of Japan's fastest rising stars, was a middle-aged, happily married woman with three almost-grown children. And while she would admit she wasn't completely immune to Tsuruga Ren's looks and charm – and who was? – she wasn't blinded by them either. Despite the teasing, she privately agreed with her charge. Tsuruga-san had arrived on set with a distracted air, and though he had seemed more focused on his return from make-up and costume, he had been less responsive to Ogata's direction than usual, just nodding instead of adding his own suggestions or asking questions. She watched him now as he accepted a bottle of water from his manager without looking at him, earning a reproach, judging by his apologetic smile and murmured words.

From what she had seen since Dark Moon started filming, it was unlike him to be so distracted. Even during that tricky phase while was still getting to grips with Katsuki, Tsuruga-san had been nothing less than single-minded, devoted to his work. Sakura was no tabloid blood hound or die-hard fan, obsessing over Japan's most private and enigmatic star, yearning for any hint of gossip (or of any personal life at all). Yet, though she would have preferred to swallow her own tongue than admit it, she couldn't help feeling curious. What could possibly have happened to have rattled the legendarily smooth, unflappable actor?

As she mused, half-listening to Itsumi saying something about going to freshen up in her dressing room, Kimura gradually became aware of a commotion behind her.

While they had been talking the rest of the cast and crew had begun to drift around, chatting and clustering around the table of refreshments. Reshooting the same scene over and over was hardly gripping, even for the crew involved, and had quickly become horribly dull for the cast and extras waiting on the side-lines. That boredom combined with enforced idleness made them all eager for a distraction. They got one.

Black leather high heeled boots encasing long pale legs; tiny black leather shorts; a figure- hugging, midriff baring corset top that squeezed and revealed a tantalising glimpse of cleavage; long blonde hair (was it natural or dyed?) with pink streaks; a nose piercing; dark grey, challenging eyes set in smoky eyelids and full, pouty lips covered in black lipstick. She sashayed onto the set and surveyed all before her with an air of haughty disinterest.

"Who is that?" a make-up artist asked in an awed half whisper.

Kimura glanced around to see if anyone would respond. One of the sound guys standing near them just shook his head dumbly, mouth hanging open, his grip on his buffer slackening completely. He flushed, embarrassed, as it fell to the floor with a clatter and scurried away after retrieving it. Amused, Kimura turned to Itsumi, but she didn't seem to have noticed. Her attention was focused on the woman currently standing a few feet from them, scanning the area and ignoring the stares and whispers she inspired, apparently unruffled by the intense scrutiny.

She stood like a runway model, hand on her hip, effortlessly casual and confident, as if she had more right to be there than any of them. Itsumi felt a pang of envy. She was the centre of attention without even trying. That woman had to be in showbiz. It just wouldn't be fair otherwise.

In an attempt to squash the unworthy thought, Itsumi murmured "I've never seen her before. Do you know who she is, Kimura-san?"

Her manager frowned, studying her subject assessingly. "She's not one of our usual extras, and she'd be in costume and make-up by now if she were a stand-in. She must have a pass to visit the set since she got past security, so I'd say she must be someone's girlfriend, or possibly a relative."

"Oh, definitely the first one. Want to try and guess whose?" Oohara-san had joined them. She winked impishly and added in a conspiratorial undertone "My money's on Ogata-sama."

Itsumi snorted despite herself and Kimura-san's hand went to her mouth. When she'd contained whatever silent laughter she'd almost unprofessionally let slip she only stated mildly, without the trace of a quiver in her voice, "I don't think so. A girl like that would eat him alive."

"I would," Oohara said seriously. "He's so pretty. But, you're right, she seems a little out there for our director-sama." She eyed Itsumi with a gleam in her eye. "That just leaves Tsuruga-san then."

"What about the rest of the cast?"

"Quite right. One can't make assumptions these days. She could be here to see her girlfriend. Not telling us something, Itsumi-san?"

"She doesn't seem like Tsuruga-san's type to me," Kimura broke in.

"Tsuruga-san's 'type'. Now there's a mystery. I haven't heard anything about his love life for years. He's practically a hermit. Although..." Oohara chuckled. "Maybe he has a wild side. Good boys love bad girls and all the rest of it. I'd love that. Oh, look! She's on the move! Finally."

Their eyes followed the trajectory of the direction she seemed to be taking.

"Oh, kami," Oohara breathed. "I can't believe it. I was actually right!"

Against all probability, the mystery girl was heading determinedly in the actor's direction, a smirk playing on her lips. Tsuruga-san, for his part, stood straighter in anticipation, saying something to his manager to send him hurrying away.

All eyes were on them, waiting to see what they would do.