Strings Attached

by

dancingfingers

Disclaimer: I don't, under any circumstances, own Skip Beat! and its characters.

Chapter 17

He never intended to touch her. He had told himself again and again that he would not even stand so near to her, lest he caught a whiff of her familiar scent that had haunted him for so long. They needed to talk in a more civil way. Calm and composed. Calm... and... composed.

However, as soon as he realized that there was no ring claiming her finger, his traitorous feet had brought him to her closer and closer until she turned around with a resigned and, should he say, dejected face. There was also an emotion that he both adored and hated flashing across her beautiful eyes: determination. In that second, he called out to her to stop her for leaving him again.

Was once not enough? He wanted to yell at her.

His resolve, which had crumbled the instant he went near her with her scent practically so close to his nose, was completely turned into ashes and blown by the wind as soon as he had her in his arms. It was an automatic response whenever he was around her; when she cooked in his kitchen, he would playfully surprise her by hugging her from behind, or when she rolled over from his side in the night, he would follow her movement and spoon his lover. She had said once that she felt loved whenever he did that, therefore in every chance he got—even when their relationship had gone downhill because of his utterly stupid, no, imbicile demand at her when he was trashed after drinking too much—he would do it for her. He had hoped that, somehow Kyoko understood he did it because he still cared deeply for her, still loved her, despite his idiot behavior in the past.

Yet, he never regretted their circumstances when the result was moments ago playing and laughing with him. I am a father, he thought with glee, Sachiko is mine. Mine. It all made sense now; the cryptic words from Shiori-san, her wry smile when she mentioned about the father... Now that he thought about it, Sachiko had his eyes. His mother, who had passed the color to him, was going to be happy, no, ecstatic when she found out.

The brief joyous thought immediately vanished when he realized that Kyoko had no intention to tell him. He was angry, yes, but mostly to himself. He had five years to introspect, after all. This, Kyoko's departure to the secret she had kept from him for ages, was the fruit of his mistakes. It is my fault.

Still, she should have told him.

He was the father. He would take responsibility even if Kyoko didn't want him as a man and potential spouse anymore. He would take care the both of them, Kyoko and Sachiko. Therefore, when she gave his answer in a cold, yet trembling voice—a definite sign that she was lying to him, he got angrier. She must be aware that she wasn't capable of deceiving anyone especially him. He was an actor, he grew up around actors, he was a keen observer... he was bound to notice a lie even from a distance. The fact that she had contradicted herself by saying she didn't need him to care while previously admitting that she had gone all the way here to hide was because she wanted to keep him safe, that she cared enough to think about him, was also another sign that she had lied.

The kiss was hard, as he had meant it to be. He knew she was crying when he tilted her chin up and turned her body around to face him. She should have known better. No lies. Not even omission from the whole truth. He was going to do it right this time. They were going to start over with only truths shared between them.

He pulled her hair free. She pushed against his chest in vain. A hand grasped her hip, drawing out a gasp from her lips. He immediately lunged for the unintentional invitation, exploring, tasting, claiming her mouth with his tongue; still sweet and so Kyoko. The small hands on his chest curled and clutched his shirt. Raven hair twisted between his pale fingers. Golden locks slipped between her dainty fingers. Below, another set of fingers expertly ripped his shirt open, and began their travel across the wide expanse of his chest. He hissed.

This was just like in the past. When they were together, it was as though they'd become one. They gravitated towards each other, their surroundings dissolved into nothing but their own little world. They were lost in their own paradise, reveling at the feel of their lover against their body.

Their breaths mingled as he eased away from her, before ducking his head to suckle on her collarbone, eliciting another whimper from her swollen lips. She grabbed his head and tilted her neck to the side, silently asking him to give attention there. He chuckled wickedly, sending a chill down her spine, and ignored her request.

"Tell me everything," he demanded in a low, seductive voice against her skin.

She whimpered in answer.

He clucked his tongue in disapproval. "That's not what I want, Kyoko."

He bent down, teasing her with another nip on her shoulder, along the skin just above her cleavage, then a lick on her ear. She ground her hips against his, to which he almost gave in to her demand, but managed to pin her against the couch—when did this happen, anyway?—and proceeded to lick her here and there, hands never idle in his ministration, chuckling all the way. He relished at her reactions: still so responsive, so submissive yet never losing her want to dominate him with her seductive charm, causing his senses to go overdrive.

With great effort, Kuon sat back on his knees. He waited for her to open her eyes, and groaned inwardly as he saw that look in her eyes. Peering up beneath her sooty eyelashes, molten gold orbs were dark with desire and frustration. The blond smirked knowingly, and extended his hand to help her sitting properly on the couch. He wound an arm around her neck as he started to play with her hair.

"Now, Kyoko," he said almost nonchalantly, as though they were speaking of the weather. "Tell me everything. Don't lie. Don't hide anything from me. Please?" He finished quietly, allowing a bit of desperation he felt into his voice.

She tried to look away, but stopped abruptly when he tugged her hair downward. He leaned forward, and murmured heatedly as he came to her eye level.

"Of course, I can be very persuasive if you chose to say nothing." She bit on her lower lip as his other hand grazed her bare thigh, up, up, up, and stop right at the junction between her womanhood and upper thigh. Cheeks flushing, Kyoko shook her head, and Kuon laughed lowly, drowning the woman further into the sea of lust. "No? Hm... Too bad."

His fingers were nearing the place she wanted him to touch her most, so close, yet so far, before he suddenly pulled down her skirt that had bunched around her waist. Kyoko's eyes snapped open, stunned. She had thought he would continue, but it was proven wrong when he stared at her with all the seriousness he could gather. Behind it, she also saw something flashed across his eyes before it faded into nothingness. Her scattered thoughts still hadn't caught on to what emotion it was exactly, so she reluctantly put it away to think about later.

"Kyoko... please tell me."

There it was again, the way he spelled her name into something else altogether. It gave her the feeling of being special, as though she was the most important person in the world.

No, not again. No more hope. Kyoko's eyes fluttered close as she tried to fend off the ache burning her chest. She should remember her purpose of coming here. She had to explain everything; she had to apologize as well for breaking her promise. Kuon had every right to know... Sachiko had every right to have two parents instead of one... besides, they seemed to get along very well, and Kyoko also recognized the adoration flowing from Kuon to her little girl, and vice versa. Who was she to deny their bond to develop?

With a sigh, she nodded and began her story.

It was hard at first; she was stuttering as he patiently waited for her to regain her composure. He had settled himself by her side, draping an arm around her shoulders as he encouraged her to keep talking. Before long, she was spilling it all: her reasoning, the events that had spurred her into leaving Japan, and how hard it had been for her to do it if it weren't for the help and continuous support from her old friend, Aria-sensei and Sho, who had expanded his business to Indonesia. She wasn't aware of the tears trickling down her cheeks as she told him about the times she had been pregnant; to be looked down by most women, and the leering from men... how she wished that she had never left, that she had told him, that she—

"I'm sorry," Kuon murmured against her hair as he tucked her head beneath his chin. Guilt, so immense that it brought a painful twist in his heart, caused him to immediately give her what she deserved for what felt like forever since it had all begun. "I'm so sorry, Kyoko. I should have been there for you..."

She shook her head. "You don't have to apologize," she sniffled, burrowing her nose into the crook of his neck. "It was all my doing. I was the one who decided to leave. I was..."

"No." This time, he leaned away and grasped her shoulders tightly. His eyes and expression were a perfect picture of remorse as she watched him, spellbound at the intense emotion he projected. "It was all my fault. Never, never, blame yourself, Kyoko." He squeezed her shoulders when she furrowed her brows in disagreement.

His jaws went tight as he shut his eyes close, a frown knitting between his eyebrows. "There is so much, so much..." he paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He found it hard to meet her eyes, he felt so guilty for being an asshole for so long. "I also have so much to tell you... so much..."

A part of him wanted her to understand and forgive him eventually, yet another part of him wanted to recoil from their close proximity. He didn't deserve to pursue her again, her love, her affection, a place in her future... if she even at least let him to be near her daughter, he knew he was going to be deeply grateful for the opportunity. He would refrain himself from killing any man who courted and married her, and continue to love her and their daughter from afar.

But I don't want to let go...

Kyoko placed a hand on his left cheek, and he quickly leaned against her touch, needing the reassurance from her. How selfish, Kuon berated himself mentally, wanting her to console him while he had wronged her so many times? Yet, he was unable to stop himself, tilting his head slightly as he kissed her palm softly.

This was home, he realized. He was finally home, with her in the center of his world.

When he opened his eyes and stared at her, he could only smile wanly and drop a kiss on her forehead. The contented sigh emitted from her lips caused his heart to skip a beat.

Perhaps there is another way, he surmised. Looking down at her, with eyes sparkling and a bright aura surrounding her as if a heavy burden was lifted off of her shoulders, Kuon gave in to his desire; now it was time to soothe his nerves.

He cradled her close to his body, ignoring the chilly wind from the air conditioner brushing against his bare chest, and simply held her. There was still time to think more seriously... Now, now he only wished to be close to her if only for just this one, fleeting moment.

President,

Phase one has been completed.

Successfully (spectacularly, if I might add).

Yashiro.

Yashiro pressed the send button, smothering a loud squeal as he did so. With a small smile and one last glance at the couple cuddling on the couch, the man turned around, leaving them in the dimness of the late afternoon.

She stirred awake, feeling warm and content for the first time. There was a comfortable weight laying atop her stomach and a muscular pillow beneath her head. Kyoko giggled softly, and turned her nose to the right to nuzzle against the bare, warm skin of Kuon's chest. His scent immediately brought a sense of relaxation, eliciting a sigh from her lips. From their close proximity, Kyoko could hear his slow and steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He was here, really here, holding her to him as though this was a normal occurrence that happened every night. It was as if their separation meant nothing here and now.

She couldn't believe it, still. Right before they drifted to sleep, Kuon had confessed that there were some things he needed to explain; what, she was unsure. He looked so miserable that she could not help but reached out to him, wanting to brush away that expression from his face. It did help to distract him, yes, but she was so flustered by his reaction that she didn't fight him as he pulled her close to him. Instinctively, she curled against his side, hands clutching his shirt that still draped over his shoulders. In return, he lend her his warmth and protection in his arms as he sought out to reassure himself that she was real.

Why, though? Kyoko failed to understand it. She had wondered, night after night, day after day, whether he still cared for her, still loved her even... She had looked so closely, guessing what lay behind his every word, touch, and the sex they shared, and felt disheartened at the conclusion. There was heat in his eyes whenever he stared at her, yes, but that was because they were so drowned in overwhelming sensation of the carnal pleasure. There was also his care, and sometimes, concern for her... but that was also because he was that kind of person; he was naturally attentive, even when she had yet to go out with him back then. It was obvious that he didn't have any lingering feelings (which she herself doubted there were any at the first place) for her anymore.

For, how could someone truly loved her, a woman with a dark... and filthy past? She was often disgusted with herself to the point she wanted to kill herself. It was because of the reminder of the people who had bothered to care for her that had stopped her from doing it, and given her a new strength to live day by day albeit she was tired to keep the facade for so long. It was only until Kuon took an interest with her, then pursued her relentlessly, and after she agreed to go on one date with him that she felt happy. Genuinely happy that she wanted to laugh, to jump, to tell the world that this was the happiest moment in her life.

Of course, when everything felt too good to be true... Like in every fairy tale she read, the evil witch, or should she say, the evil stepmother grabbed a hold of her and cursed her existence. There would be no knights, no princes to save her—only dragons that kept her in the highest tower while everyday, she longed for a sliver of happiness for herself. In every chance she got, she was reminded of how undeserving of her to love and be loved in return; she was too stained, too dirty, too disgusting to even be looked at... She was resigned to spend her life in loneliness, the only friend that had been by her side for as long as she could remember.

And Kuon? Well—he was a dream of a dream of a foolish girl with unhealthy obsession over fairy tales. He had his princess somewhere; that person wasn't her. Definitely not her.

As she said prior, she was resigned of her lonely life. She'd only live for her daughter, she had vowed to herself. And yet... when he suddenly kissed her like that... Was she allowed to hope? Would that hope fail her again; giving her a brief sense of joy before it crumble before her eyes? Was it also possible that he still love her?

Distressed, and not wanting to ponder deeper, she closed her eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Don't think of anything yet. Don't be presumptuous. Don't be a fool. Don't hope for the impossible...

And yet, she sighed shakily, eyes opening once again to stare at his face. I can't stay away from him if I want to. I love him. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest as she whimpered softly, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. I love him... I want him... I need him...

"Shh..." A large hand brushed away her bangs from her forehead, and then she felt the fleeting touch against the top of her head. His arms tightened minutely. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Feeling a wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips, Kyoko replied weakly, "...yet, you mean."

He chuckled. "True, true," he conceded. "But I will always be here, or there, for you. And Sachiko." He grabbed her chin and lifted her head up to meet her eyes. "I will come back."

Kyoko looked down. "I know," she murmured softly.

"You don't seem too inclined to see me again." There was a pout in his voice.

She shrugged her shoulders, then let her eyes wander about the room, ignoring the grumble from the obnoxiously tall man behind her. Golden eyes widened as they caught the sight at the abandoned package on the floor, still in its plastic wrap.

"What is it?"

He curiously followed the direction where her eyes rested upon, and frowned at that. He'd known, of course, of the significance behind the flower. However, recalling that Kyoko had brought it inside, Kuon felt his gut clench in anxiety. Surely, she didn't...

"Do you hate me that much, Kyoko?" he blurted out his fear before he could stop himself. He looked down, letting his messy bangs cover his eyes. He didn't want to hear the answer... nor could he look into her eyes when she told him that she despised him.

Startled, the black-haired woman whipped her head around to see him. He looked so forlorn, defeated even, and Kyoko couldn't stop herself if she wanted to. Palming his face, she glared up at him. Green eyes, so similar to Sachiko's yet also different, went so wide they almost looked comical.

Scowling at him, she asked heatedly, "Why do you think so?"

A heavy sigh, then, "The flowers?" he offered, eyes refusing to meet her gaze.

"I didn't give that to you," she firmly, and a bit angrily, exclaimed. If there were someone she wanted the flowers to be delivered to, then it was only for one person. That is, if she cared enough to send the bouquet. "I found it near your door."

He stared at her blankly. She was able to see his mind processing this information. Then, after a whole five minutes in silence, he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Mine?" he asked at last. "...but who—oh. It must be the first knock before you came." Kuon rubbed his brow thoughtfully. "It wasn't a prank, then..." he trailed off. He had, unfortunately, experienced through enough bullying and racist treatment from his peers, even the adults, to not recognizing the meaning. However, this was the first time someone wanted him dead.

Kyoko interrupted his train of thoughts. "...erm, what?" she asked confusedly, a bit lost.

Grinning sheepishly, he explained it to her. "Right before you came here, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, though, there was no one. The hallway was completely empty, and all the doors were closed." He shrugged a shoulder. "I thought it was only a prank."

She sat straight on her seat. "How long has it been before I came?"

"Hm?" He hummed for a few seconds in thought. "Five minutes... no, I think it was less than that. Give or take, two or three minutes; enough time to slip unnoticed. I was busy entertaining our daughter to note the time." He grinned widely at that.

Warmth pooled in her heart as she witnessed his expression softening in remembrance of their Sachiko. She bet with all her money that Kuon would be the oya-baka as his own father already was. I will have to learn to stop him from spoiling Sachiko. She refrained from bursting into giggles at the image of Kuon, bragging about their child to everyone who had ears.

Still... "That was not what the focus of this talk here," she said, stirring his focus back to the present. "...I should ask Honda-san to check on the footage. I think we have a CCTV there."

"Honda-san? Who is that?"

Feeling slightly giddy at the jealousy tone in his voice, Kyoko lightly answered, "One of the bodyguards who are personally chosen by Shotaro." He relaxed, sighing inaudibly, before tensing up again at the name of that man. "Idiot," she muttered, swatting at his arm.

He huffed, annoyed. Then, a thought crossed his mind. "Shiori-san is one of them, too?"

"Yes."

"Ah."

"Why?" she asked, raising a brow.

"...nothing. I just thought it was weird for a mere nanny to have the grace of a fighter."

Kyoko merely hummed in response.

For a while, they cuddled, content with the silence. They watched the rain still pouring outside, the room getting darker and darker as the hour grew late. Suddenly remembering the child waiting back in her suite, she jumped from his lap, cursing as she tidied her appearance. Kuon was still gaping in shock when she quickly brushed her hair with her hands, kissing him on the cheek as she murmured her farewell. She was slipping on her shoes when Kuon finally woke up from his stupor, and knelt to assist her with gentle hands.

"See you soon?" he asked as she eventually stood on her own feet. He watched with interest as her cheeks pinked prettily. In that moment, he wanted to keep her here for the night; only the thought of Sachiko waiting for her that halted him. Not to mention a certain meddling manager...

She nodded, snapping him back to the present. "...see you soon," she agreed timidly.

The blond man leaned forward, brushing her cheek tenderly before kissing her lips for one last time that day. "Say my hello to her," he murmured, slowly (and reluctantly) easing away from her.

"Yes," she said breathlessly.

"Good night, Kyoko."

"Good night, Kuon."

(And both of them knew it was impossible to have their good night sleep tonight...)

There is something I need to address since someone pointed it out to me. White chrysanthemum indeed symbolizes truth and grief. Therefore, in Japan, you can find (and give) this particular flower in the funeral. Be careful with the color (or flowers, in general) or you may end up giving someone an entirely different idea.

I hope that you like and enjoy this chapter too. There is so much I want to convey, but—well, one step at a time, I guess. There is still so much issues to be addressed and a pest to kill (LOL—maybe not kill, only maim) so their reconciliation will not come right away. They need to work for it.

See you... hopefully...soon.

-dee