Work Text:
.
.
“You’re still beautiful, you know.” Kazuya says, his voice as soft as his little smile.
Kyoko rolls her eyes at the statement. “Of course you would say that. Is there anything you wouldn’t say to please people?” She scoots closer to the mirror and squints her eyes, trying to see her reflection more clearly. Oh god. It is there; it is definitely there, just under her right eye – no wait, it is also under her left eye! Has her time finally come? Should she change the color of her blush to hide it? Or perhaps it is better to just apply some more foundation around the area?
“Am I really that untrustworthy?”
Something – something in the way he says it makes her pause, and for some reason, she feels a twinge of guilt gnawing at her. Given his nature to over-think everything, of course he would take it the wrong way. Not to mention what they have together is still considered as a sensitive subject to those around them.
Do you still not trust me?
She sighs. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just… you’re so nice.” Too nice, sometimes, that she often has to wonder if he pushes himself too hard, if this persona is really the real him, if he really is honest with her… “And niceties won’t be of any use on this one. This is a real nightmare for women, let me tell you. I know I’m over 40 already and it’s only a matter of time until I get it, but I thought it was still a long way for me. And now it’s just too late…” she mutters mournfully, shifting her position to get a better look of her reflection.
“What are you talking about?” Kazuya asks, sounding a little puzzled.
She turns around and takes a few steps forwards, before stopping right in front of him and looking at him expectantly. “There. Did you see it?”
He only looks at her blankly. “See what?”
“The Wrinkles!”
A blink. “The…what?”
Now she feels like hitting him for his denseness. Oh well. Men. They can never understand how horrible something like this really is. “The wrinkles! There! Right under my eyes! My both eyes!”
Kazuya keeps looking at her blankly, but then she notices that one corner of his lips twitches – again and again – as if it is trying to stop itself from going upwards to form a smile – or worse – a laugh.
She narrows her eyes. The bastard. “This isn’t funny!” she punches him on the arm, making him stumble back against the wall, a silent laughter bubble up from inside of him. “Don’t you know that a woman stops being beautiful when she starts having wrinkles?” another punch lands on his arm. And another. And another. And another, but still he doesn’t stop laughing. “It’s even worse in the entertainment industry, because as an artist, looks is all that matters!”
“…is that what’s been bothering you?” he asks, soft.
“I’m a fourty-year-old woman for God’s sake!” she exclaims loudly, sounding more than a little horrified.
“You’re freaking out,” he points out.
“I’m NOT freaking out!”
Kazuya raises an eyebrow at her.
She sighs in defeat. “Okay. Perhaps I am. A little.” She steps aside and leans her back against the wall beside him, staring at the floor dejectedly.
“I’m sure it actually isn’t that bad.” He says with a small laugh, sounding amused.
Like this is actually something to laugh about. Bastard. “Whatever. I’ve made my points.” She stubbornly refuses to let her gaze leave the floor beneath her.
“Hey,” Kazuya says, pushing himself off the wall only to stand right in front of her, a smile graces his lips. “As I said before, you’re still as beautiful as ever, you know. Nothing changes.”
She looks to the side, avoiding his eyes. “You sure know what to say, aren’t you?”
But then he reaches out to her, his palm on her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “Who says I was trying to reassure you? I was only stating an obvious fact.” He isn’t smiling when he says that.
His mouth might say those words, but all she can read from his eyes is: Don’t you trust me?
She hesitates. The truth is – the truth is not that she doesn’t trust him, it’s just… it’s just –
“You’re beautiful.” Kazuya insists, voice firm, mouth set, eyes dead serious, his hand warm on her cheek.
How can she not believe him when he is looking at her like that?
“Okay.”
.
.
Fin
