Work Text:
Sho Fuwa had to concede that despite being a model, Aya Hasebe probably had the chops to make it as an actress. Unlike many of the ones he’d worked with on music videos before, Hasebe could balance subtle emotion and the dynamic movements needed to communicate without words. She was also incredibly hot. Ink-black hair and chocolate-brown eyes complimented the gentle curves of her figure. It made for a pretty solid day of filming.
Now that filming was wrapped up, they made their way to their dinner reservation. A French restaurant with one of the nicest patios in Tokyo, their agents mutually agreed that the paparazzi could be an effective way to build up excitement for the music video. Making small talk with people he just spent the whole day with was generally a no-go for him, but for once, he didn’t mind the exception....
Until he did. Rain was pouring from the heavens and wind was blowing it sideways by the time they made it to the host’s stand. The host was practically grovelling while explaining that the balcony was insufficient to keep them dry in this weather. “Since we’ve had to move every diner inside, we simply won’t have space for the next hour to seat you.”
Sho turned to Hasebe to express his disappointment in the poor planning, but she wasn’t paying attention. Looking toward the far window, she held a hand in the air and waved. “Kyoko-chan?!”
Sho’s blood ran cold. No way. Come on, there has to be a million Kyokos in Tokyo. But, of course, that flat board of a girl stood from her white table clothed table and waved just as enthusiastically as Hasebe. The man sitting across from her turned and for a moment; he let himself hope that Kyoko was cheating on Tsuruga. Nothing would bring Sho more joy than dragging Kyoko as a hypocrite, but he wouldn’t be granted that satisfaction. The allegedly handsome face twisted into the briefest of scowls before it turned into an implacable mask of politeness.
Seeing an opportunity to get two more butts in seats, the host ushered Sho and Hasebe to Kyoko and Tsuruga’s tiny table, and after the briefest of conversations between the girls, two chairs magically appeared to squish them all together at the table. A plate of cheeses, cured meats, and crackers already sat in the middle of their table. “Help yourself,” Kyoko said, smiling at Hasebe and generally trying to ignore Sho’s presence.
Sho waved a hand. “Nah. We’ll just get some salads to start. Gotta fuel right for work, ya know?”
Hasebe helped herself to a couple of slices of Camembert and a few water crackers. “I’m off for the rest of the week. Thank you! Now, forgive my manners. Have you two met Fuwa-san?”
Huh? Sho looked at her, confused. “We know each other.” He pointed to Kyoko, Tsuruga, and then to himself. “Do you know them?”
Hasebe nodded. “Former boyfriend,” she said, pointing to Tsuruga. “Future co-star!” She then pointed to Kyoko.
“Ah, gotcha,” Sho said, bewildered. He tottered between annoyance and glee at the revelation. Kyoko and Tsuruga were plastering on their most good-natured smiles. “What a wild twist of fate.”
Hasebe was clearly oblivious to the tension brewing, because she had dove into the menu and exclaimed, “Crepes! Kyoko-chan, they have so many kinds.”
“Yes!” Kyoko exclaimed and took the out to look at her menu as well. The girls proceeded to discuss the virtues of one variety versus another.
Sho stared at Kyoko deliberately, then Hasebe, then finally Tsuruga. He raised his eyebrow and cocked the most shit-eating grin.
“What?” Tsuruga asked in a low, warning tone.
Sho used it as target practice. “Makes a guy wonder, that’s all.” He leaned back and pretended to care about pasta.
“Unbelievable,” Tsuruga hissed. “Unconscionable.”
Sho’s eyebrow raise to all new heights. “Careful now. Between you and me, you’re the one who’s been involved with both women at the table.”
Tsuruga pushed himself up from the table and slid his phone out of his pocket. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said toward the ladies, who only briefly acknowledged his departure before diving into their strategy around the dessert menu. Bullseye.
Not too long afterward, Kyoko excused herself to the restroom, leaving Sho and Hasebe alone for a few moments. “Did you and Kyoko used to date?” she asked simply.
Sho barked a laugh despite the prickles of heat that crawled up his arms. “Not my type.”
Hasebe sipped her water and then said, “Understood. So, appropriate enough to release a song about you wanting her back, but not to genuinely care for.”
Sho froze, realizing that her previous gift of knowledge was more of a display of power. “I thought you were a model.”
When the server came around, she ordered a bottle of chardonnay for the table, then explained, “The entertainment industry is like a mountain. While we all might climb different faces of it, it gets narrow at the top. Not being willing to do a bit of internet research about who are in the nearby camps is negligent.”
Sho’s positive feelings toward her were draining by the second. “Why do you care about her? Or anyone’s shit that could get in your way?” At least, if she’d admit that it was for leverage or sabotage, he could plug the leak. Not despite everyone at this table.
The server arrived back promptly and poured her the first taste of the bottle. She swirled it, smelled it, and gave it a taste. “Excellent. Thank you.” The server proceeded to pour a glass for each place setting. “No one climbs Everest alone, Fuwa-san. Those who try end up utterly lost.”
“You think the guy who dumped you is worth hiking up with?” He ignored the wine — wasn’t stuff like this an old lady drink?
“It’s worth not making my life actively more difficult. And, just because one person may have come in to your life one way, doesn’t mean it’s not worth letting them take a different role later on.” She reclaimed her wine glass and nodded towards the front door, where Kyoko and Tsuruga were talking and likely figuring out how to run away. Chicken shits. Unaware of his internal characterization, she said, “They found each other. Now, they’re trying to summit together. You can be left out in the cold, or you can find a way to coexist and climb together. It doesn’t stop you from trying to reach the top before them, but at least it’s less effort than whatever you’re trying to do.”
“What I’m trying to do?” he retorted before she could ask exactly what that was. “What about you? Why would you nose around in my business like that and talk all this big talk?”
She smiled reluctantly into her glass. “Because I rather enjoyed working on this project with you. I believe in this song and the artistic vision behind the video. If I do nothing about potential sources of conflict, I put myself in a position where I chose sides, and therefore cut myself off from future possibilities. At least there’s a chance to have my cake and eat it too, if I meddle.”
She drank. Sho smirked. A bit soft for his taste, but it did reek of honesty dosed with self-interest. “Fine. I’ll play nice for now. If you make it clear to Tsuruga that you think I’m a better performer than him.”
She pursed her lips. “Musically? Oh, absolutely. He can’t sing at all.”
Ha! Sho snorted and conceded to trying the wine. He took a sip as Kyoko and Tsuruga slunk back to the table. The wine was kind of fruity, but it was kind of... creamy? He scowled and ignored the quote unquote happy couple. “What’s that?”
“Chardonnays are buttery,” Hasebe explained to the table. “I thought a toast to this lucky coincidence was in order.” She raised her glass. Tsuruga and Kyoko raised theirs good-naturedly as well.
Sho cleared his throat and raised his. “Allow me. To chance encounters.” To whatever absolutely batshit behavior led those two to meeting. “Hard work.” To Tsuruga being tortured by Kyoko’s ten thousand different ways of twisting a situation. “And putting on a good show.” To their inevitable train wreck of a public break up. They clicked their glasses, some more reluctantly than others, then drank. Sho sat his glass down and ran his finger along the bottom of the glass. “Huh, that wouldn’t make a bad part of a song. Maybe not for my brand, though...” He raised a devilish eyebrow. “Tsuruga? You ever think about recording an album?”
Kyoko took the bait. “I’ve never thought about that for you! You can play the piano, right? Have you ever sang?”
Hasebe hid a chuckle behind her napkin, which sent Kyoko into a spiral of confusion and Tsuruga’s ears burning. Heh, not bad.
Admittedly, it wasn’t as fun as it was to be an outright ass. This relationship was going to fail. Kyoko was going self-destruct under the pressure of her own damn minefield of a head. Tsuruga was going to get sick of it and have one too many drinks with a co-star because he couldn’t stand the stress of being around her. It was obvious. Did he really need to be the one who shoved them off that cliff? Or could he just place himself at the right angle so they bounced off him and careened off themselves?
“I, uh, never had the pleasure of training for that,” Tsuruga explained.
The server finally came to take their food order, and it took a fair amount of effort to not say “Popcorn”. Maybe Hasebe was right to want to stay up close and personal. Maybe the best seats in the house were up front and center. And just maybe, he’d find what the hell bullshit logic made them think they were right for each other.