Hello, all you lovely Skip Beat! fans that are giving this fic a chance. You rock!

I consider myself a veteran in the fan fiction world, though this happens to be my first Skip Beat! (or manga/anime, for that matter) inspired story that I've ever written. *quick bow* Please take care of me!

I don't really see the point in disclaimers, as we all know we come here to read made up stories by rabid fans, most concepts of which have no hope of ever becoming canon. Ahaha, but we can still dream, yes?

I resurrected my writing skills after being inspired by my new favorite crack shipping fan-ficker of time - Felicity Dream! (You muuuust read her stuff. I insist.)

I was going through my playlists for inspiration and got hit with this idea. I figured I would start it before I lost my nerve. It's been years since I've genuinely fan-ficked. *sigh of relief* I'm just glad to finally write down one of these weird ideas that clog up my head! I need that brain power for other practical things, you know.

As always, I would appreciate a fav/follow or review. I need to know if pairings like this interest anyone else out there! I love the tale as old as freaking time Ren x Kyoko pairing but I swear it's been like 13 years. IT'S TIME TO MOVE ON. Let's write something else! Haha, no offense meant. I love all the wonderful work in this fandom.

Without further ado...

Loosely inspired by the Song, 'Like I'm Gonna Lose You,' by John Legend and Meghan Trainor.

I found myself dreaming

In silver and gold

Like a scene from a movie

That every broken heart knows.

We were walking on moonlight

And you pulled me close.

Split second and you disappeared

And then I was all alone...

If anyone in the Japanese entertainment scene paid as much attention the deadened look in a certain singer's eyes as they did to the label of his designer coat, they would find reason for concern. However, as Sho Fuwa was known for his untouchably cool indifference, no one thought anything was amiss.

Under the assault of a thousand flashes, his face always appeared even more smooth and angular than usual, an uncommon advantage that greatly contributed to his current stardom. There were no bad angles when it came to Fuwa. The camera - and an accompanying legion of female fans - loved him. Unfortunately, the only person whose love meant anything to the singer was drifting further and further out of reach, and he was drowning the in wake she left behind.

It had started as little things, small signs of progress, and he, like a fool, thought he still had all the time in the world. A magazine spread, a few interviews here and there, a modeling contract for some girly cosmetic crap she no doubt had been in throws of ecstasy over. The makeup gig led to other modeling opportunities, the modeling presented her in a more favorable light to the public, and that favorable light hadn't been overlooked by casting directors. Directors who happened to see the golden opportunity that awaited them, to use the cutie-honey known for her overwhelming, intense acting in a role that broke the mold of the villains and antiheroes she was known for portraying.

And now, here they were, at the same award ceremony, in the same hotel, yet somehow farther apart than they had ever been. Over time, it became harder and harder for Sho to track her down. Her schedule was always up in the air, her manager was an overbearing banshee who protected her privacy like a national trade secret, and she rarely had time for class. When Pochi had been unable to give him any solid information, even at the promise of another 'hot kiss', he knew something else had to be done.

He never knew, though, that his methods would lead to such little success. He showed up at her Darumaya more often than his pride would care to recall. He only caught her a handful of times. It was frustrating, even humiliating, to sense her increasing lack of interest and attention.

"I saw your new commercial." He'd said once, stirring his tea in an irregular, lazy motion.

She'd wiped a trail of flour from her cheek and glanced briefly over her shoulder. "Shotaro, if that's all you're going to order, please take a table with fewer seats. We have other customers waiting."

Annoyed by her placid response, he'd leaned closer. "I'm surprised they thought to pick someone like you for that brand. Then again, all artists enjoy working with a blank canvas."

"Yes, that's what makes me an ideal model. I can look like anyone," had been her ready response. She'd cleared the table beside him efficiently and turned around. "Now, if you're ready for the bill, head over to the counter. Like I said, we're busy today."

He still remembered the dumbfounded expression that stole across his face. It was an expression he hadn't been able to shake until he arrived home, much later. Since when did Kyoko speak so assuredly about herself? Since when did she treat him with civility, for that matter? Any other person would have assumed it meant they'd gotten in her good graces. But Sho had had an irritating, sinking feeling that it meant something entirely different.

The manic reporters and paparazzi who lined the red carpet snapped him from his reverie, with all their loud and overlapping questions on pointless subjects.

"Fuwa-san, what are you wearing?"

"Fuwa-san, what are your thoughts on your award nomination?"

"Fuwa-san, is it true that you're dropping your single, 'Heartbreaker', after the show tonight?"

"Fuwa-san, is there any truth to the rumors surrounding you and the lead actress in last spring's hit film, 'Akatsuki No Yona'?"

That question got a rise out of him, much to his chagrin. He had resolved to school his features to be indifferent on this topic. It was embarrassing to have such an immediate slip up. Shoko had told him what not to say while she grilled him on the way to the hotel, but the details were now muddled and vague. He remembered only one statement, though unsure of what context it was used in, and declared it loudly:

"I can neither confirm nor deny that. Let the evidence speak for itself."

This, of course, invited whole slew of other uncomfortable questions, which effectively drowned out an irate screech from the long-suffering Shoko Aki, who waited on the sidelines. Sho, however, whose ears were finely tuned to pick up the nagging sound, quickly finished his walk and escaped the range of the gossip-thirsty predators and into the range of his blood-thirsty manager.

"Sho!" She yanked on his sleeve and pulled him towards the hotel's entrance. "I don't understand what's going through that head of yours! How on earth do you think that statement is going to minimize gossip about the two of you? You may as well have said yes!" Shoko was stomping hard enough at this point to threaten the integrity of her sling back heels.

Sho, who was aggravated by the line of questioning, and even more aggravated at being treated like a grade schooler, yanked back. "Like I care what they say about me and that shapeshifting demon! What a joke!"

Shoko stopped and swiveled to face him again. She bore an unusually solemn expression. "Sho, you…" His manager wiped a hand over her perspiring forehead and started again. "Sho. It's time for you to stop pretending and grow up. You keep pulling stunts that cause this level of gossip, and then act like it was nothing. You need to be honest with yourself, and figure out what the hell it is you want. I am sick of cleaning up after you, and the last thing Kyoko-san needs is you finding ways to drag her through the mud when her career is just taking off! Get your act together!"

Stunned, Sho was left mute and wide eyed at the hotel's entrance while Shoko stalked away, muttering about finding his "ungrateful ass" a decent seat. Before he could fully digest the uncharacteristic scolding, the reporters behind him erupted into deafening chaos.

"It's her! Hurry, unmute the mic!"

"Get a good shot of that gown!"

"She's not alone! Here, give me a boost. We have to capture this!"

Sho craned his neck to see who the source of the commotion was, and immediately wished he hadn't. Why'd she have to get here right after he did? He had hoped not to cross paths with her at all! But, the longer his eyes remained on her approaching figure, the less he believed himself.

Kyoko smiled gently at the flashing lights around her, tucking a piece of hair behind her exposed right ear. The other side of her face was curtained in brilliant red waves, the style of her breakout character, Princess Yona; a role which resulted in her current nomination and invitation to the same event as himself. Though Sho had fervently pretended otherwise, in reality, he had gone to see the film more than once. Alone. In disguise. But several times, nonetheless.

It was an effective method of torture, and one that Sho made no attempts to kick. Her casting as the delicate and sheltered princess had shocked the Asian entertainment scene all the way up to the premiere of Akatsuki no Yona. The film's well known director, Seiji Shingai, insisted that he had worked briefly with the unusual actress in the past, and that she was perfectly suited for the role. And, while most in the industry had the highest respect for Shingai's work, attention to detail, and his judgement, there were still quite a few who questioned the decision. Kyoko was gaining popularity fast as a spokesperson of a prominent makeup line for teenage girls, but she was still mostly referred to as a memorably infamous antagonist.

Shingai never retracted his original statement, though, and never lowered anyone's expectations. "I had an endless list of actresses that could have pulled off a pretty princess in distress. But that's not what I needed for this film. Pretty princesses are a dime in a dozen. I needed an actress who could show me what a gritty, betrayed, and exiled princess looks like. A young woman torn from the only life she's ever known, by a person she thought she loved. Someone who has to trade a kimono for a cloak, a fan for a bow, and ignorance for understanding. I needed that intensity - and that heartbrokenness. I needed to believe her. And I believed Kyoko-san. I am confident you will as well." Director Shingai's words stirred even more conversation and anticipation for the film, and not even critics were left disappointed.

Akatsuki no Yona grossed more money its opening weekend than three competing big-budget films grossed altogether. Its unusual lead actress, all-star male casting, amazing cinematography, and fast paced action made the movie an almost overnight, nationwide, and eventually international, success. And here they were, at the end of December, nominated for Picture of the Year, Outstanding Achievement in Cinematography, Outstanding Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role, Outstanding Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role, and for the national Popularity Award. It had clearly received the most nominations of any film competing. Tonight was recognized as a huge night for the cast and crew.

And the actress in question represented her film with all the elegance and grace of a true princess. Her ballgown, with it's full skirt, sheer sleeves, and intricate, strategic embroidery, made her look like nothing short of royalty. This was a fact not even Shotaro could pretend to ignore. The blush pink fabric only accentuated her fair skin. Her striking red hair framed her pixie-like face and made all of her features stand out. She stood poised and proud, unwavering under the hot, blinding lights. And when a tall, sleek gentleman snaked long arms around her torso and rested his head on her shoulder, she neither flinched nor jerked out of his grasp.

Sho felt a horrible, raw twisting in his gut. The sight made him so inexplicably angry; angry enough to charge across the red carpet, before hundreds of cameras, and start a fight that could end his career. He wavered where he stood, shifting uncertainly, almost manically, back and forth. Heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe. The press naturally ate up the gift that was being given to them, and threw out as many questions as they could with their limited oxygen supply.

"Kyoko-san! Tsuruga-san! This is your first official appearance as a couple. How long have you been seeing each other?"

"Were you keeping your relationship a secret?"

"Did your romance blossom on the set of 'Akatsuki no Yona'? Is this a new development?"

"Are you seeing one another exclusively?"

"What do you have to say about the rumors surrounding Kyoko-san and pop star, Sho Fuwa?"

At this, Ren Tsuruga lifted his head from where it had been comfortably nestled - the crook of Kyoko's neck. A relaxed smile crossed his face, as if he had just picked up on the line of questioning and found it amusing. The actor glanced down at his girlfriend for approval before responding. She gave a slight nod.

"I have nothing to say regarding the stories about Kyoko and Fuwa-san. There is no romantic sort of relationship between them, if that's what you're suggesting. I know that for certain." The actor chuckled, unwinding his arms from her torso and slipping her hand into his. "We are exclusive, and look forward to starting our lives together. That's all we have to say on the matter."

With that, the pair continued their walk down the carpet in silence, ignoring any further, desperate inquiries towards their private life, posing for pictures, and lost in their own little world. Just observing them made Sho nauseated. Everything around him was a blur. A too-fast, off-center carousel with no exit.

'We look forward to starting our lives together.' Like hell you do. Pinhead actor. Sho thought he despised the self-satisfied bastard before, but he'd clearly underestimated his own capacity for hatred. And Kyoko! How could she stand there so calmly, so happy? How could she let that pretty-boy hang onto her and grope her so shamelessly? She swore she wouldn't allow herself to become so stupid in love again! How could she break her promise to him with such ease? Why did seeing her so happy with someone else make him feel this betrayed?

"Sho?"

He jerked backwards, completely taken off guard. How or when she had gotten within touching distance was a mystery to Sho.

Kyoko eyed him inquisitively, before clearing her throat. She glanced briefly over her shoulder. He followed her line of sight and saw Tsuruga, several yards away, posing with a group of Akatsuki no Yona cast members. The press were going crazy over the reverse harem incarnate. The majority male cast of the movie had been a part of its massive success. Heavy hitters like Tsuruga, Hidehito Kijima, and Hiromune Koga were certainly hard to ignore.

Presumably satisfied her beaux was out of range, Kyoko gave him her full attention. Prepared for verbal assault, Sho gritted his teeth and readied his fiercest scowl.

"Congratulations on your nomination tonight, Shotaro."

Sho blinked once. Then twice. "What?" What did the soul-sucking demon say?

Kyoko smiled just the tiniest bit. Amusement colored her expression. He felt his heartbeat clumsily skip a beat before resuming its harried pace. Why was his face so warm all of a sudden? Had he caught something on the flight over?

"I just wanted to congratulate you on the nomination for your soundtrack. I think it made that movie exceptional. You've really outdone yourself." Her tone was honest and direct. Like she was genuinely complimenting him. Like she might even be a little bit proud of him.

Sho was mortified to feel a crimson heat crawl over his neck and face. It was pathetically obvious in his crisp, white tux. Why did he even wear the stupid thing? He was supposed to be a devil! Why did he feel the need to dress up like some white knight?

"Well, er…" He forced himself to get a grip. "Yes. It's about time someone recognized my talents for what they are. I expect my upcoming project to receive twice as much recognition. This is trivial in comparison." For whatever reason, the words didn't bring as much satisfaction as he thought they would. In fact, they seemed empty and contrived. Sho wasn't accustomed to the sensation of wanting to eat one's words.

"Right… " Kyoko responded, with all the politeness of a stewardess. "Of course." She clasped her hands briefly, then let them fall to her sides.

And with that, they were thrust into a total minute of uncomfortable silence.

Say something, a voice in his head shouted at him. Anything! Of course, whenever those words echoed in the back of Sho Fuwa's mind, what eventually escaped his mouth was rarely anything worth repeating. This instance was no exception.

"I owe you some congratulations as well, it seems." His needly tone must have tipped Kyoko off to his less than congratulatory aura. Her mouth dipped into a much sterner line, as if daring him to make a scene. This only egged the singer on. "I didn't realize what an exceptional liar you were. I guess that's where those so-called acting talents came from, huh?"

Kyoko grimaced at the insult to her passion. He could tell it was taking everything in her not to give in to the dark rage only he could draw out of her. The notion satisfied him immensely. However, when she finally looked him dead-on again, Sho was disappointed to see a carefully constructed control in her expression.

"I don't know what you mean, Shotaro." The indifference in her eyes, towards his words, towards him, pissed Sho off.

"Don't go saying that name whenever you please, idiot! Do you want to ruin my career?" He glared at her in challenge. "What am I saying? Of course you do, soul-sucking demon."

"No, Sho-taro, I have no interest in ruining your career. Your career is none of my concern. We aren't even in the same field." The look in her eyes was cool and condescending. She looked like a completely different person with a simple change of expression. And this person was looking down on him. It pissed Sho off even more.

"That's funny. Because ruining my career was your whole stupid reason for getting into show-biz in the first place! Without me, you'd be waiting tables and flipping burgers, the same as before. You owe your career to me!"

"I owe you nothing."

He flinched at the ice in her tone, at her glacial stare. When he down looked into hard, amber eyes that he didn't recognize, Sho suddenly felt very, very alone. The Kyoko of his childhood had been his cheerleader, his champion, his pillar... in a home - a town - where his destiny had been laid out for him even before he was born.

The one person who had ever really known him, had ever treated him like he was going to be somebody before he was somebody… because of his selfishness … now looked at him with eyes of cold indifference. Gone were the sparkling, innocent eyes that worshipped her 'Sho-chan.' Gone was even the blistering hatred and resentment of Kyoko. This was someone he didn't know, and he didn't fully understand the fear it caused in him.

"But you made me a promise…" He grinded out, startled by the unsteadiness of his own voice. "You were never going to become that stupid, love-obsessed woman again. You said he was your precious senpai, who you respected and revered. What a bunch of crap! You're such a liar!" Why was he getting so worked up over this? What happened to his cool-guy persona? Why did he feel so out of control?

"Sho!" Kyoko hissed, dragging him forcefully into the private lobby of the hotel, and out of the sight of potential gossip-mongers. "You are being a child." Her harsh whisper almost echoed in the silence of the expansive room, a striking contrast to the chaotic whirlwind outside.

"And you're a big phony! Acting like you've changed, when you're just the same as before! Throwing your life away for yet another guy! Just go back to Kyoto where you belong!" He made a grab for her sheerly covered forearm. To his shock, Kyoko met his arm halfway and gripped his hand roughly in her own. For such small fingers, her hold was like a vise.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Shotaro." She sighed, but kept just as unrelenting eye contact as she did her grip. "But I will tell you this. Kyoko Mogami made you that promise, over a year ago. And not in the best circumstances, I might add. She agreed to those ridiculous terms. And she apologizes for whatever offense you think she's committed towards you. However, I..." Kyoko pulled Sho down to her eye level. "I am not Kyoko Mogami."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He breathed out, almost inaudibly, afraid of fracturing the fraying thread that still held them together. She let out her own quiet breath.

It was too late.

She let him go. And just like that, the tiny thread snapped.

Suddenly, it was like the world around them had come back to life. Celebrities, managers, film crews, producers, directors, and significant others swarmed through the lobby. Hotel staff rushed out to meet the needs of those demanding attention. The world was no longer theirs alone. Their hole in time had closed. Why did it feel like it was never coming back?

"Sho." Kyoko said it simply, with neither malice nor affection. It was a made up name for a made up person. Her soft voice was nearly drowned out by the bustling crowd.

"Kyoko Mogami does not exist."

Sho attempted to get closer, but she only backed away.

"I'm just Kyoko." The girl - no, woman - gave him a sad smile. A smile full of memories, regrets, and things that would forever remain unsaid. How could one smile manage to be so terrifying?

He reached for her one more time. "I don't under-"

"The girl you knew is gone. She is never going back to Kyoto. You're never going to see her again." She grasped his hand for only a moment, as if she could squeeze out everything she wanted to say and be done with it.

"I wanted to thank you for all of the good times that you gave me. For making my childhood a bit brighter, if only for a little while. I want you to know, from this moment on, I will forget all the bad times, and I will think very seldomly of the good ones. Those are Mogami's memories, and they have no further place in my life. Kyoko has new memories to make… This is goodbye, Shotaro."

His heart seized in his chest, and Sho couldn't make himself breath normally again. Was this what it was like to hyperventilate? Why did it feel like drowning in air? Why was he suffocating?

"Y- you're…" He choked on his words. "Are you going to forget about me too? Are you abandoning me?" What were these ridiculous things he was spouting off? Sho Fuwa would never lower himself to this level... But these were the words of Shotaro.

Kyoko frowned at him. Though the expression was gentle this time. Almost pitying. Why did she have to look at him like he was some injured animal? Why couldn't she look at him - for once, not as a prince, or an enemy, or a rival - but as a man?

"You never needed me before, Shotaro..." She softly replied. "You'll be alright without me."

That's not true. That's not true. That's NOT TRUE! Why couldn't he say anything!?

"I- I…"

"Kyoko!"

They both jumped and turned around.

Ren Tsuruga. Sho had completely forgotten the cursed guy. Why did he have to choose now to storm in? The last person he wanted witnessing his own desperation was that pinhead actor.

When Kyoko's sad expression melted into one of pure warmth and affection, Sho felt a sickening blow to the gut. Had she looked at him that way once? It had been so long ago, it seemed, he could barely remember. Before he had time to even collect himself, Tsuruga was upon them.

"Honey, are you okay?"

Sho was startled to hear the question in crisp English. Tsuruga was so focused on the woman in front of him, he seemed to forget that he had an audience. "I took my eyes off you for a minute, and you disappeared!"

The actor grasped Kyoko's hands tenderly in his own, seeming to inspect her for injuries, or even a hair out of place, before turning his barely concealed rage upon the man beside them.

"What do you want, Fuwa? Causing those ridiculous rumors wasn't enough for you? You're trying to make a scene here as well? You've got balls, I'll give you that, you little sh-"

"Kuon, enough."

Sho didn't know if he was more surprised by her bizarre nickname for the actor, or the fact that her soft command was enough keep the monstrously tall man in check. Tsuruga drew back from the singer, but didn't loosen his grip on Kyoko.

Instead, he lifted her left hand slowly to his mouth and gave her palm a firm kiss.

Even she seemed a little bit startled by the random act, until they both realized, in the same moment, the true purpose behind the move. From this angle, Sho could clearly see the delicate, silver band that encircled Kyoko's ring finger. When Tsuruga finally lifted his mouth from her hand, without breaking eye contact with Sho, he easily rotated the band around.

Now the striking, indigo stone was facing out.

Where everyone could see it.

Where anyone could see what it meant and whose it was.

Shotaro was going to throw up.

"What… is that?" The words came out in a strangled whisper. So different from his normal, self-assured tone.

"What does it look like?" Tsuruga responded harshly, his narrowed eyes never leaving Shotaro's.

Kyoko frowned at the actor, putting a hand on his tense arm and murmuring something in his ear. He glanced at her, the harsh look slightly softening. "He was going to find out one way or another. Better to get it over with now, than when he's cornered you somewhere else, and I'm not around."

She looked back at Shotaro with sad eyes. Did he look so fragile that he needed her pity? Was he that pathetic? He wanted to scream so badly that he couldn't even feel the way his own hands were trembling. Why did this hurt so freaking bad?

Kyoko took a steadying breath and kept her gaze trained on him. "We're getting married in the spring, Sho. I'd rather you hear it from me, than from a tabloid. I'll be going to America for a bit... We... probably won't see one another for a while."

The words rang mercilessly in Sho's ears, even as he blindly backed away, even as he heard her call his name, and his manager after her… Married in the spring... Going to America… This is goodbye, Shotaro…

Goodbye?

He wasn't ready for goodbye. Not even close. There were so many things he still needed to tell her. Things he had to ask… This could not be it. After all those years, this could not be their ending. She couldn't just disappear from his life. He wasn't ready.

I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

Please don't go.

I need you.

Shotaro saw nothing of his surroundings as he fled the hotel. He didn't know who he ran into or where he was going. It was like he had ceased to exist the moment those three words had left her mouth.

This is goodbye.

When pop star Sho Fuwa stepped off the sidewalk on the evening of December 21st, in his best white tuxedo, he didn't see the red stop signal on the crosswalk, he didn't see stoplight in the intersection turn green, and he never saw the speeding SUV barreling down the left-lane, with its distracted occupant more invested in the entertainment headlines on his phone than on the road.

And when metal and flesh collided, when onlookers screamed, and sirens wailed, Shotaro had only those three words left on his mind.

This is goodbye.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The simple, white clock on his equally simple, white wall struck twelve.

A man leafed through the many files on his desk.

While some were a crisp white, others were a more weathered beige. They were what remained of yesterday's batch.

To a passerby, it would seem that the man was combing carefully, even lovingly, through the stacks of paper, and they would not be mistaken. However, what the gentleman had in his possession was far more valuable than simple stacks of paper. No one but himself and his two closest associates had access to them. They were precious files, indeed.

He liked to organize them by location on some days, on others, he preferred alphabetically. Of course, when you went through millions of such files on a yearly basis, one needed some sort of system to keep them in line.

When the man studied the pages before him, one could observe a happy smile on his lips at one stage, and later, perhaps an aggravated shake of the head. More often than the man would like, the final pages of files left him looking grieved and tired. But there were plenty of happy ones too.

"Katy Kursech…" He murmured, flipping through the pages of the aged, yellow file. "106. She left behind three children, ten grandchildren, fifteen great-grandchildren, and two great-great grandchildren. Well, I'll be. Donated 100% of her assets to the poor and underprivileged youth of the inner-city. I'm sure ol' Bentley had a good little tantrum over that one. Maybe now he'll place less value on money and appreciate what he already has. Well done, Katy!"

A firm knock interrupted the man's one-sided conversation.

"Come in."

A younger gentleman in a casual brown dress shirt entered the room. The sleeves were rolled up and his tie hung loosely around his neck. "Hey, Pop."

The older man smiled at his son and associate. "Ah, you're here. Quickly, come. Come read about what ol' Katy Kursech did with her millions! You'll get a kick out of it."

The younger man smiled and moved his father's right side, leaning over to see the paper. "Huh. That is pretty funny. Was Old Man Bentley surprised?"

The older man chuckled. "You bet! That old curmudgeon. About time something didn't go his way." He shut the file and patted it affectionately, before placing it in the pile closest to him. "What has you on this side of the office, bud?"

The younger man let out a small sigh and handed his father another file. This one was still a clear white, only in the beginning stages of aging. The older man frowned and ran his hands over it. "This is from today's? Does it require immediate attention?"

His son could tell the whiteness bothered him. The person had been in the prime of their life. The young ones always made him a bit sad.

"Well, yes and no." The younger man took the file back and flipped towards the end. "Tell me what you think when you read this."

The older man leaned closer to his son and read the file's final contents. When he was finished, he solemnly leaned forward in his chair. "It was too soon. That's not what I had intended for him."

The younger man nodded, laying the papers down on the desk. "But it was his poor decisions that led him to that point."

His father nodded. "Yes. I had planned for him to be with her originally. It's always interesting to see how humans like to warp their own destinies. He would have been very happy, I think. But he never developed the character he needed to keep her. I meant him for so much more than that."

The younger man rubbed his stubbled chin. "Yes… I was a bit disturbed by it myself. She'll take it pretty hard."

The older man had to agree. That girl was tough little cookie, but she still felt things very strongly. All the acting in the world couldn't fool his old eyes.

"I hate to see her in even more pain."

His son picked up the last page, browsing its contents again. "He certainly seemed to be on the verge of something… some kind of change… before the end. But that doesn't warrant he be given a do-over. What do you think?"

The elder associate clasped his weathered hands together and leaned his elbows on the desk. He pondered on it long and hard.

Did the boy deserve another go? The answer to that was pretty straightforward.

No.

However, did he want to see what that boy was capable of, were he given the reset?

"Well, son, you know I'm a fan of second chances."

End of Part 1

Thank you for reading, you beautiful person you!

I have a lot to say regarding my thought process in this story, but I'll leave it alone, and let you draw your own conclusions from the different symbolism and whatnot. I intend for this story to have two or three parts, so bear with me! I hope this introductory chapter was satisfying enough!

I would, however, like to say that if you have never read or watched Akatsuki no Yona (Yona of the Dawn), please (whenever you have the spare time) DO! I thought about it, what kind of movie should be Kyoko's huge breakout star role... and I thought, why not give her that princess role she's always wanted? Yona is literally the most appropriate princess role Kyoko could receive. The character captures the perfect amount of cuteness, loyalty, intensity, and general badassery that I think Kyoko projects very well. Plus, with the right hair style, they look pretty similar. And, with Yona, you get a massive reverse harem! It's a win-win! Haha.

If you are familiar with the Yona universe, then I'll tell you my secret. I did not cast Ren as the broody bodyguard, forever-in-unrequited-love (or is he?), Hak. Though, on the outside, that makes the most sense. I actually intended him for the role of the treacherous Su-won. Despite the guy being a borderline sociopath, I think he and Ren actually share many similar personality traits, and it would a more challenging role that would broaden his acting abilities. In my fic, Ren is the one who was nominated for the Best Actor in a Supporting Role for being Su-won. That's how much faith I have in him! LOL.

And I actually cast Koga, in my mind, as Hak. (If anyone cares.) (*I DO*)

Look at me, thinking ahead! Lol, though in all seriousness, I would definitely consider a rom-com fan fiction for this movie arc in the future! Are you kidding! (And yes, you may steal the idea. I care more about getting major FEELS than I do about hogging concepts.)

Thanks again and hit that review button like it's going outta style!

Love,

A Bagel