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DISCLAIMER: SKIP BEAT! and its associated characters are the creations of Yoshiki Nakamura. This author claims no ownership of Skip Beat or any of its characters. All other rights reserved.
Letters Home
Foreword by Ren Hizuri:
My father was a hopeless romantic, and never failed to pursue whatever grand romantic gesture he could think of to make our mother smile during their long and happy marriage. A few months after their wedding, he came to the U.S. to film the second film of the Route Project, "Orestaiad." It was their first separation. During this time, he painstakingly wrote letters home to Mom, despite the fact that the two were in constant contact via calls, texts, and video. He always said 'a real letter is something that can convey your feelings in a way that only tangible things can.' Our mother treasured these letters all her life, keeping them in a box bound with a satin ribbon. While she consented to the publication of Dad's letters, we abide by her wish to keep her own letters private until twenty years after her passing. Dad always wrote to her, no matter where he was in the world or how long or short the trip would be. These love letters follow an old and poetic tradition, one shared by many notable lovers—Napoleon and Josephine, Diego and Frida, Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, and many others. They run the gamut from the sweet to the erotic, from mundane accounts of life to musings on the nature of love. We wanted to preserve these for history.
September 6
Immortal Beloved,
I've always wanted to write you a letter just so I could call you that.
It's my first day in LA and I miss you. I know we just talked. I can't call you back, because I think you'll think I've gone crazy, and it's 3am where you are. I know that this is terribly old-fashioned of me, but I can't help but send you something to hold onto. And when you get it, and I see you holding it on that screen, maybe it'll help me feel I'm not so far away from you.
I can't help imagining what you're doing right now. You're probably asleep in our bed, maybe you've got a smile on your face. Kyoko, do you dream of me? I dream of you. I dream about running my hands down your back as you sleep, hearing you murmur my name. I dream about our mornings and our nights and the kiss you gave me just before I left.
I don't want to wash that kiss from my lips. I don't want to wash the smell of you from my body. I want to keep myself in stasis so that the feel of you never fades from me. The California sunshine is so bright I'm half afraid it'll exorcise whatever magic you've left on me. I hate the fact that tomorrow when I wake, it will be the first time I wake without you since our vows. I don't know how I ever managed it before. How is it possible that I lived so long without waking next to you?
I would buy a bottle of your perfume and spray down these walls, except it still wouldn't smell like your perfume because it's not on you. I should have stolen something that smelled like you. A shirt, or your blanket or...well, I won't go there. Or maybe I will. Next time. I have Corn in my hand, but Corn doesn't feel or smell like you, even if Corn holds your magic next to me. Knights going to the joust receive a token from their lady fair—why, why didn't I ask for one before I left? I am playing a knight, after all, I'll be wearing armor. I would bear whatever token you gave me close to my heart at all times to remind me that you're waiting for me too. Lady fair, your knight is bereft.
And must, with haste, depart for this afternoon's table reading with the rest of the cast. Yes, Cedric will be there. He's been avoiding me, probably because he's afraid I'll break his nose. His precious princely nose on his precious princely face. Bullies never really change, but I like to think that more and more people are seeing him for what he is. I'll tell you more about it when I call you later.
Kisses.
With love,
Kuon
September 9
Dearest Kyoko,
I was gratified to see you holding the letter I sent, and no, as you see, I refuse to send these by regular post where they may languish for weeks before reaching your hand. International courier express delivery is a small price to pay. I am glad they got the letter there on time.
Mom and Dad send their love. I've just spent the day with them. We would have gotten you on video except it was so late...and much as I miss you, I don't want to trouble your rest. Mom wanted to go to Dajowney Land, so Dad and I went with her in disguise. I swear, Dajowney should probably pay her for her endorsement. She'd go every day if she could. We certainly risked being recognized while we were walking around. And I could tell she missed you too, because neither Dad nor I particularly care to take pictures with the princesses—seriously, why would we bother when we have princesses at home? Or are you a Queen, instead?
I...may have torn up some of the landscaping by the castle to send you the enclosed flowers. They are forget-me-nots, for fidelity and devotion. And because I don't want you to forget me. I wanted you to be with us and now all I can do is send you bits of greenery that I stole off the ground as Mom was taking pictures with Cinderella. And of course they had to have lunch at the park. She and father have appetites as large as ever. Yours truly was quite overcome, though I managed to avoid being force-fed through your power alone. You see, Mom and Dad have faith in you...and if you say you're feeding me well, they believe it. It doesn't help that you're so far away, but it seems to relieve them that I take videos of the food I eat for you.
It was a little odd to go back to our old house. The last time I was here was with you, before our wedding...that time, all I could think of were the times with Rick, the fights with Cedric and his gang...all of the things that haunted me. Things that you helped me through. Without you, I'm not really sure how I would've survived those memories when we came into my room. But today, all I thought about was you. The way your eyes lit up when you saw the embarrassing posters that I had as a teenager. You looking through my old collection of manga and laughing at me. You and me, sneaking off from Mom and Dad and making out on my bed and how your lips looked swollen and your eyes looked dazed after I bit your lip and how your skin felt as I moved my hand under your skirt and how you were wet, so very very wet for me in that tiny little white tennis skirt that somehow managed to look sexier than anything Setsu ever wore. Did you know that I sat in my empty room today and instead of thinking about everything that happened before all I could think of was the sight of your slim little legs split obscenely over my twin bed? Do you remember how I swallowed your moans with my kisses because we were afraid Dad would hear us?
I do. And if I am frustrated because of it, I want you to be frustrated too.
There's never been another girl on that bed. I've never brought another girl home. And now I want to keep my parents from ever changing anything in that room, if only to preserve the memory of you in it.
Call me when you get this. I want to hear you blushing...because yes, Kyoko, I CAN hear it when you blush.
All of my love,
K
September 10
Kyoko,
The food here is going to kill me.
Wait, no, it won't kill me...calm down. I can see your face from here. But we've had catered lunches each day on set and every day it's hamburgers...I know you love hamburgers, but these are American hamburgers, not the hamburger steak that you love so much. The portions are so large and so greasy that I've been feeling ill and there is no Yashiro to save me with antacids. I haven't had much of a chance to see Kotonami-san, but I'm certain she's already told you about the food. For all their obsession about surface beauty, Los Angeles certainly serves up the most detrimental things for it. Why do Americans feel the need to serve mounds of french fries with everything? Even you would agree that convenience store onigiri is better for me, I think. At night the food is better, but still entirely too rich. Our first night, the cast went out to a French restaurant and everything felt drenched in butter. And since then, it's been a succession of hot hors d'oeuvres. Is it bad that I never craved In-and-Out burgers while I was in Japan?
By the way, I'll admit it before you yell at me today: I skipped lunch. I have stunts in the afternoon and the last thing I wanted was to have that stuff sloshing around while I do wirework flips. They're having us shoot the fight scenes first this time, perhaps because they want the CG artists to have those scenes to work with in advance. But all the exercise means I'm actually hungry for dinner now.
But I think even if they served us vegan salads, I'd still be unhappy. Because what I really want is your homemade food.
Please, Kyoko, send me a bento? You can pack it in dry ice and ship it overnight. Even a single umeboshi will do.
Love,
Your Very Hungry Kuon
September 12
Kyoko,
Run away with me.
We'll take a motorcycle out of the city and escape.
We can get lost in the Mojave and I'll strip you naked under the stars.
—K
September 14
Hime-sama,
17 days until you come to me.
17 days full of endless shoots in front of the green screen, retakes with a drunk Cedric, bratty co-stars coming in hours late (how I understand Murasame now!). 17 nights full of strangers with fake smiles, rounds of parties with no purpose except to consume time and souls. Los Angeles is a meat market, my love, and I am the meat. I make the rounds like a trained dog. A smile here, a nod there, people promising to 'give me a call to talk to me about their next project.'
17 days until I see you again, until I pick you up in that hellmouth we call LAX and I get you all to myself...for at least a few hours. I am grateful, at the very least, for being able to share this production with you, else I would be separated from you for months rather than a month.
I miss coming home to you. I love walking into my condo to see you in the kitchen and smell what you're cooking. I miss watching you when you sit on the couch and look over your script. I miss watching TV with you, and the way you fall asleep on me in the middle of an episode...and then I get to cradle you until it's time to tuck you in. I miss baths with you, and washing you, and then brushing your hair.
Sometimes in the middle of a shoot I stop and I think that perhaps I don't miss you after all, that perhaps I'm not missing half of myself in the middle of the day. But that feeling quickly passes and instead there's just a pit of emptiness and pain inside of me and I have to remind myself that you are not a dream. That our life is not a dream. That you really are coming to me, and I really am waiting for you.
Help me. I miss you.
Love,
Kuon
September 16
My darling wife—
Because you ARE my wife, my one and only wife, I married you...there was a ceremony and everything (with pictures!). I have proof that it wasn't a dream, and you can't deny it because you put this ring on my finger yourself. You are my Mrs. Hizuri, my soulmate, my destiny, my harbor.
Thank you for the umeboshi. And for sending them express. The UPS guy and the front desk clerk appear to have formed a friendship...they see each other so often when I send these letters to you.
Are these from the same batch you made this spring? I never knew I had a thing for umeboshi, but somehow these taste like home. Even the wrapping paper you used to insulate the jar smells like home. I don't know if it makes me feel better or if it makes me feel worse. The umeboshi are everything sweet and sour. Sweet, to think that these left your hands to cross an entire ocean just for me. Sour, to think that just a few weeks ago, I could have simply found these in the pantry! To think that just a few weeks ago, I was in our bed!
Do you remember the first bento you ever made for me? Right before the Katsuki test...you skipped school and handed me a bento just so I would eat something. I had just admitted to myself that I loved you, I was frightened of it and I all but swore never to let you know. And then there you were like a wish come true to greet me that morning. Kaarage chicken and rice and pickles from the Darumaya. It was my first rabu-rabu bento.
I still can't believe you didn't figure it out that night...when I was holding you on my floor and you were trying so hard to be Mizuki. I can still remember the way you felt...the way you smelled. The quiver in your lip when I traced it with my fingers. You once told me you swore to make me lose my composure with your acting. Did you know how early you succeeded? Do you know you're still the only one that's ever managed it? You were like a drug in my veins. You still are.
Truly, Kyoko, you never should have walked into that apartment willingly. I should have kissed you right then and left you no doubt about how I felt about you. Should've marked you on your neck like you've done to me so often now. I should've unbuttoned your blouse slowly and then taken your nipple into my mouth and then stripped you of the rest of that schoolgirl uniform. And then I would've entwined my fingers in yours, held you down, burned myself with the heat on your skin and licked you until you screamed.
I am off to take a cold shower.
Thank you for the umeboshi.
Love,
The Emperor of the Night
September 17
Kyoko,
Oh tease of a wife!
You have had your revenge.
Have you been keeping your high school uniform all these years for use as a secret weapon?
When did my pure Japanese maiden turn into the debauched succubus I saw on-screen today?
Where did you learn to undress like that?
I want to bathe in the leavings of your soul.
—K
September 18
Dear Bo,
You are my most favoritest rooster in the entire world.
Was it fun to be Bo again?
Truly, what a coup for that producer to have you show up as a cameo. He never treated you right, even when your presence clearly boosted that stupid show's ratings.
On tonight's episode of Kimagure Rock I wanted to bash Hikaru Ishibashi's face in because he is breathing air that has been in your lungs and because I should've known he had a massive crush on you. Has he always had a massive crush on you? Is it possible that you could have been Mrs. Ishibashi instead of Mrs Hizuri? Your Hikaru has such a loving, boyish air to him. I think he would have been a devoted partner. Sometimes I think it would have been better for you to have loved a less complicated, less churlish, less violent man who would have loved you out in the open instead of stealing kisses under false pretenses. If I were a less selfish man, I'd have been in the audience watching instead of five thousand miles away. I would have made you the center of my world from the start, instead of putting you through that ridiculous ruse of having you wait for me, not-mine-but-not-anyone-else's.
I do not doubt that there are many men who would replace me in your affections. Sometimes when we are out and you are busy outshining everyone I just want to hold you in my arms to keep them from seeing you. I am greedy, greedy, greedy, I want to keep you for myself and all to myself and if I could assure myself your horde of fans wouldn't hunt me down, maybe I'd chain you to the bed so you could never leave me.
Say the word and I will drop everything and come home to you.
Grilling mochi,
Kuon
September 21
Kyoko,
My countdown has begun. Ten more days. I hope that this letter will reach you before you leave. Coverage for my phone is glitchy here, so I'm not even sure I'll be able to call you when the time comes.
We've moved on-location to the Bonneville salt flats, and this place is as desolate and remote as any outer-rim planet could ever hope to be. The ground is covered in white-hardpacked salt, far as the eye can see. There are distant mountains on the horizon. Each morning I rise at dawn and watch the crew set up for the day's shoot. Cedric stays in his trailer, sleeping, until he has to get up, and then avoids me unless we have a scene together.
We haven't had much of a chance to see the world. You and I...we work so much, dressing ourselves in other lives from the inside out. But even on our honeymoon, we've never really had the chance to go anywhere. Mom and Dad used to take me camping, and this on-location shoot reminds me of the times when we'd pile into a car while they put on disguises and we'd just...go. Dad used to dabble in dark-sky photography and we would sit on the bed of a truck looking up at the sky by the ocotillo patch in Joshua Tree.
All that ended after we came back from Kyoto—Dad got so much busier and we never camped again. But I want to take you here, Kyoko, to watch the sunrise over the salt flats with me, and then south to watch the stars over the desert. And then maybe we can go north to see the northern lights. If (when?) we have children, I want to take them with us, too.
Promise me that we'll make this time for ourselves.
See you soon.
—Kuon
Afterword by Kanae Hizuri:
Father and Mother's short separation ended in a spectacular fashion as paparazzi documented their reunion at LAX. The picture of them is famous now: Father caught Mother in what appears to be mid-flight and then kissed her with a million cameras flashing. Mother told me years later that Father's last letter arrived just the morning of her flight to join him for her portion of Orestaiad's shoot in LA. After that production wrapped, they surprised their manager, agency, and the rest of the entertainment world by taking a long sabbatical to wander around the world. Mother always said that it was this time away that gave her the added depth she needed to evolve her acting. They kept a tradition of ensuring time together as the years went on. As children, Ren and I grew up in a household that felt like home no matter where we were in the world. Both Father and Mother had difficult childhoods. Above all, they worked hard to ensure ours were happy.