Book One "Don't Mess with Derrick Spencer!" - Chapter Two

 

2.12 (Akira)

Aldryn rereads Derrick's note, his forehead furrowed as though he's looking at a difficult Math equation.

Heading back to New York.

Don't worry. The calendar stays the same.

So, Sjon, you have a week without me, cherish it.

I'll see you guys in two weeks.

He remembers being told by Derrick himself that 'The Witch' is in London for some business conference. So, why did Derrick still leave? His mom will not be hosting the party later nor is she going to be there. Who else is he running from?

Seeing himself as the peacemaker in the group, the one that unites them four and the most analytical of all, Aldryn then realizes that this time, it's Derrick who has given him something to mull over. It was usually Howard, who's like a walking jigsaw puzzle board most of the time. He stares at his solitary friend, who has preferred sitting on the carpet over the cozy, long Baroque couch, seemingly more interested in the book that he's reading than Derrick's sudden escapade.

"This is highly unusual," he finally breathes out as he passes the letter to Sjon, sounding like he's running out of conclusions. He starts walking to and fro behind Sjon's couch.

Sjon, on the other hand, must be reading the note for the nth time. He tosses it away instead and the letter falls to the couch a few inches from his side.

Aldryn figures that maybe Sjon can't afford to have another look at the note again and risk getting a headache, too. Well, that was why he handed it over back to him anyway.

"He really left a note," Aldryn says, almost grimly.

"That's his plan," says Sjon, sounding so sure. "Ditching us and now we look stupid for worrying. What is he now? The Easter Bunny?"

"No, he's Derrick," Aldryn replies, like a detective putting the pieces together. "He doesn't leave notes. The almighty Derrick Spencer? Taking a minute to write one and then place it somewhere only Howard Griffin can find?"

"He got bored, I don't know," Sjon exhales as though in surrender.

"This isn't like him. But he's right, you should make the most of our last week here."

"Don't you think it's going to be boring, Sjon?" Howard asks calmly; Aldryn has almost forgotten he was there. As usual, he looks like a little boy in wonder, his legs bent up and his chin resting on the top endband of the book. "Not having anyone to argue with."

Right then, Aldryn sees the change in Sjon's expression. Like suddenly, his ice of irritation has been thawed out. Yep, only Howard can do this. Asking rare questions that only he can think of. Only Howard Griffin can see.

"That bastard..." says Sjon, irritated but manner softened. "Didn't even have the decency to tell us in person."

"Because he knew you would stop him," Aldryn continues with a knowing tone.

"Yes, I would, but it's not like he would listen. Derrick does things as he pleases. He's a Spencer. I just wish he wouldn't be so stubborn as to choose being on his own when something serious is up. Particularly when it’s about his mom. He just can't help but be selfish in all different angles. That idiot."

Aldryn hides a smile. He knows what Sjon really means with that exasperated tone.

"Margaux Beauchamp is on the list," Howard says, referring to the party later.

"The French heiress?" That's definitely a lead so Aldryn asks quickly, "The one his mom wanted him to meet?" And, getting a quick 'yes' nod from Howard, he sighs.

That can never be passed for a coincidence. Duh? They're in Paris. What was I thinking? 

"It was definitely a set up."

"What's new?" Sjon asks dryly.

Right after that, Howards gets up. He stretches and yawns so innocently. And then, "I'll just see you later at the party then." Then, he walks straight out of the room.

"That sleepyhead eager to stay up this late again?" Sjon asks with a telling smile. “If we’re in New York, he’d be preferring sleep over us.”

"It is 5 am and still he could barely hide his smile. Yes, Paris keeps Howard awake." And then, Aldryn goes around the other couch and sighs, "Those two…" as he finally lets himself crash into the opposite couch. "They go nuts when it comes to women."

"You do not say!" Sjon fakes a surprised tone.

"Wait, let me clarify that by borrowing your words, my friend: they both go nuts when it comes to women…on different angles. Derrick tends to bounce off while Howard floats in place like a little ferryboat…"

 

2.13 (Tsukasa)

A couple of hours ago, back in Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Derrick was staring at the plane that would take him back to New York. Via Air France. But he was not really staring at anything. He felt numb. Margaux Beauchamp was pretty, yeah. But the fact that she's the one the Witch wanted for him made it the very barrier between him and the heiress.

As the passengers were summoned, he started heading for the door to the bridge, too. But then, he was stopped by his message tone.

He took a deep breath. "Bring it on, witch."

Even so, just with that brief message tone, he couldn't deny the jolt his heart just made, the adrenaline suddenly forming inside him and the choking sensation from his throat. He readied his eyes and mind as he checked his phone's screen.

You know she'll still go after you, right?

No matter how many times you run away.

Derrick almost jumped in relief. But he didn't. He knew the real warning behind his sister's text. 'Go after you' was not something literal in their world.

 

2.14 (Rui)

Furnished with aristocratic carpet design, gold-plated lamps, heavy curtains and finely sculpted wooden chairs, Howard walks down a corridor in the Ritz Hotel like he is back in Central Park. It is without effort that Howard can still look at peace in his walk even when angry, worried…or excited. While most people find it stylish, pleasing to the eyes, to him it is second nature. Back when he was small, he wouldn't even go out of his room, not without crying. Not without her company.

But then, something stops him.

A Marie Claire magazine resting on one of the chairs.

He browses through it and not more than five pages, he finds her. Two pages all to herself, clothed with a gorgeous light grey Versace gown. And that puts a smile on his face. Not the weird kind of smile this time.

 

2.15 (Soujiro)

A chuckle of approval follows after analyzing what Aldryn has just said—Sjon can’t even believe sometimes his friends with those two when their reputation is admired and feared altogether.

"Shall we call them the Loser Duo now?" Sjon asks.

And now, he really said it. The word 'loser' has a telling resonance to Sjon somehow.

"The world that we live in will never be normal, I guess,” as usual, Aldryn’s response backs up Sjon’s thoughts, authenticating that he and Aldryn are always on the same wavelength.

“What is normal anyway?" he asks dryly.

Being hailed as the so-called Four Princes is normal. Getting away with anything is normal. Four losers sleeping in a utopian cradle… That I am not sure of. He suddenly wonders if Aldryn really has the same definition of ‘loser.’ She would never love a loser. Who would? He stops it before that air from his childhood could completely seep in.

"Fooling around is normal," says Sjon as he gets up, looking all excited again, putting all his sad thoughts back inside a drawer in his mind, "Come on, I'm making the most of my last week in Paris. Starting tonight."

It’s good to know that Aldryn knows he’s just being sarcastic. That even amidst their customary squabbles—he and Derrick—he won't leave a fallen friend behind, especially an instant fugitive, figuratively speaking, trying to get away from his beast of a mother.

"He needs us, he’s just being reckless,” but Aldryn still reminds Sjon every now and then; it’s in his nature.

"Of course, I’m kidding" Sjon assures his friend. “We'll head back to New York. Let’s just get some rest first. I think Derrick might need some time alone, too."

 

2.16 (Rui)

Howard arrives in front of Hotel Le Bristol, in the 8th arrondissement, under the afternoon sun. Still holding the book that he was reading earlier at the Ritz Hotel, his smile is undeniable. He can't fathom it but as he walks into the hotel's main doorway, it feels like it's this familiar luxury hotel back in Manhattan.

As if he's coming to see an old friend and have her check his homework.

$$$$$$

Standing in front of a suite's door, Howard checks the time on his Rolex Submariner. It's roughly 1 o'clock. He only had four hours of sleep back at Ritz. About to knock on the door, he recalls that this is not just to surprise her. It’s a rare chance to see her face again. He takes out his cell phone and searches for a name in his contacts.

Charmaine Nicols.

He presses 'call' and after four rings…

"How!" a girl's voice answers, sounding thrilled and surprised altogether.

"Please open your door, you've got a delivery."

After a quick pause, Charmaine is completely in disbelief, "Oh no, you didn't! Are you standing outside?"

Howard giggles, which almost never happens, then hears her walking—heading for the door to test her theory.

"Hurry, Maine."

He hears her opening the door but the door before him remains closed. His forehead wrinkles in puzzlement.

"How, where are you?" confused, she asks.

"I'm outside your door."

"I'm outside my door! Oh no…"

"Where are you?" confused, Howard is about to knock.

"Monsieur, are you Ms. Nichol's friend?" a girl's voice with a French accent asks him from behind.

Howard turns around and sees that it's a young, blonde hotel maid—French, of course—actually quite young that she might just be his age. She's holding three folded white towels.

"Oui, mademoiselle," he tells her as he looks straight into her eyes.

"B-but she is not here, m-monsieur" with a shy smile, unable to look back at him, she begins to struggle in his language. "She leave yesterday…t-to Italy."

"I'm in Italy right now, How!" Charmaine's voice echoes from Howard's cell phone.

"Merci Beaucoup," smiling, he tells the girl politely.

She nervously curtsies, surprising Howard—only, of course, the expression is not discernible on his face. But in that second, the girl looks stunned as well, seemed embarrassed by her own action that she leaves practically in a hurry.

"You're in Italy?" he returns to Charmaine. It is not really a questioning tone. More like an upset one.

"Is that Belle?" Charmaine asks like she didn't hear Howard's question.

"Belle who?"

"The one you're talking to. I know that voice. She's a hotel maid."

"Oh—ah…she left already," he hears Charmaine closing the door on the other line.

"What did you do, Howard Griffin?! Did you scare her away with your good looks?" Though teasing Howard, Charmaine manages to still sound like an affectionate adult.

"What?" he feels like the one being grilled instead. Like he's the one who has made her upset. How does she do that?

"Don't you think she's a cute one? Be nice to her, okay? Anyway… YOU CAME TO VISIT! That's really sweet of you, Howard…"

"Except that you're in Italy," trying not to echo disappointment, Howard starts walking.

"Yes, in Milan…we have a show. You could've told me you were coming!"

"I wanted to surprise you. When they told me Paris, I said yes right away."

"Aw… Well, I'm surprised, How, and really touched. So, the boys are with you? How's everyone? I miss you guys…"

Howard shares on the phone how his three other best buddies on the planet are doing. He's certain that tonight's event would definitely showcase Sjon's and Aldryn's specialties in getting girls. Well, in Aldryn's case, women.

"Still the biggest playboy" as he envisions Sjon flirting with gorgeous French girls later in this evening’s party and Aldryn giving an attractive magazine writer, who’s much older than him, a toying smile, "and still the biggest cub."

"Those boys… How about Derrick?"

"Somewhere between a runaway blind date and a runaway would-be fiancé?" and he visualizes Derrick sleeping soundly on his huge bed in the middle of his dim two-floored bedroom.

"Hm…" Charmaine's tone turns much softer now. "I’m guessing…it has something to do with the…”

“Yes, the witch, what’s new?”

“My… I really hope that one day Derrick finds someone with whom he’ll do exactly just the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, someone with whom the option of running away is out of the question,” she says and then chuckles, “Although I have to admit, the idea of him standing up to his mom? For someone? …gives me a violent image."

Does she have to worry about everyone?

"And I hope you find one, too!" Charmaine continues sunnily. "But hey. How? Remember, you have to tell me first before everyone else. Okay?"

Tell you what? You didn't even ask me how I was doing or if I was mad.

"I'm sure that this girl will be very interesting…"

 

2.17 (Tsukushi)

Briony's face gets soaked instantly the moment she twists something around the water pipe and it spurts water directly at her nose. It's just roughly 8 in the morning and she's already beneath their bathroom sink, fixing a pipe. Her 13-year-old brother Gian is at her side, laughing.

"Don't you just love Sundays?" she asks him in a sarcastic tone.

"Wait another year, Bry, and I'll be the one fixing that next time. I promise."

She secures a ring around the pipe and, getting up from her squat, turns the faucet. "Faucet's working, mom!"

In a few seconds, her mom is standing outside the bathroom doorway, relieved, "Thanks, honey, I don't know what I'll do without you especially when your father's not around."

Briony smiles back at her light brown-haired mom, then, gets out of the bathroom, followed by Gian, leaving their mom there. Holding three wet plumbing tools, she heads for the orange tool box on their round dining table but then pauses. Like remembering something important, she returns her attention to her brother, who's now standing beside her as if waiting for the next instruction from her.

"Wait another year and you'll be done with middle school. But while at it, focus on your studies, prepare yourself for high school and don't mind these things, I can take care of them."

"But you're a girl and I'm the guy. That’s why families are lucky when they have sons."

"Okay, since you really want to help, go wipe these three and make sure they're completely dry before putting them back inside the tool box. Can I count on you?"

"Last time you were Lady Carpenter," there's a hint of frustration in Gian's tone. "Well, of course, I can do that, Lady Plumber. What’s up with this tool box? You adore it too much."

"Trust me, it has done us so many favors…" Briony replies, winking at him. She taps her brother's head, messing up his hair a little bit, and reaches for a clean towel hanging on their couch's backrest. About to wipe her face, that's when she notices her mom…

…Laurie, who is looking back at her eldest child.

Briony can't fathom if her mom is temporarily catatonic or just staring back at her although not really because she is really thinking of something else. Like recalling a missing bullet point from her grocery list or something. But then, no.

Without saying a word, this woman in her mid-40s darts across their small living room and into a bedroom, puzzling her daughter.

Oh crap, I hope it’s not the cheese! I thought they weren't going to use the other half anymore so I ate it all up! I was so hungry last night…

But Laurie returns with a wide smile and a shiny white box in her hands, resembling a tiny vintage suitcase. "Briony, sweety? Come take a look at this," as she excitedly walks to the dining table, "I have something for you," and puts it next to the tool box.

"Another tool box?" Gian asks wearily.

"I was going to ask the same thing," Briony adds, curious but with caution. She would love it if it's the portable type but she thinks she also knows what this other box is, until her mom opens it. It confirms her second suspicion that makes her remember Barbie.

"No, it's a makeup kit, silly," says Laurie, in a matter-of-fact kind of tone, making Gian cackle without a care. "And it's time for you to have one!"

Briony’s eyes are wide in shock, "Oh no, mom, I'm okay, I don't need—"

"Of course, you do, you're a young lady," Laurie says enthusiastically, "and, you’re correct, wait another year, Gian will be 14 and you'll be 18. That ugly box goes to him and this cute one goes to you. I still need some of these shades, I guess, but any color you want, just choose honey it's yours. I'll take the ones that suit me. I think some of these might be expired already. But we'll clean it up. Okay? But from now on, YOU START YOUR MAKEUP COLLECTION WITH THIS BOX."

Oh my God, someone has turned my mother into a giggly little teenager.

"Mom, I'm fine,” Briony tells her mom firmly. “And that tool box is not ugly. Don't judge the box by its…size and-and weight. That box is irreplaceable."

"But it's not the right box for you."

Briony thinks her heart has just skipped a beat. That tone from her mother is different this time. The look that she's giving her, it is almost like a plea. With a touch of apology.

But then Laurie Mullins relaxes her expression into a thoughtful smile. "If you ask me, Briony, at your age, you should be practicing by now how to apply lipstick, like what shade compliments your skin tone, what blush…eye shadow… You can never tell, dear, you might bump into some rich guy anytime of the day—"

"Mom!" This is getting really silly now.

"Okay…yes…" not minding her daughter’s reaction, Laurie picks one shade of lipstick after another. “Oh yes! Let's try this one!"

"It's 8 in the morning," as Briony prepares to shield herself from her mother, who's on her way to her.

"Yes, dear, it's 8 in the morning and I just made you fix the faucet, which I could have made your father do except that he left early today for work."

"Mom, I'm so drenched I could get sick so I better go take a shower, bye!" and in a matter of seconds, she is back in her room. She hears her mom muttering outside her door 'What will I do to you?' in a hopeless tone.

She takes a rest as she leans on her closed door, asking herself what has gotten into her mom this morning.

But then, the view of the four yellow roses on her desk sidetracks her. The four are now submerged in a half-full clear vase of water. She remembers sharing Jane's lucky charm. Like a child, she almost believes for a moment that it is real. Because suddenly, she sprints across her small room, moves her curtain to the side and ties it up. Then, she picks up the vase and puts it on her windowsill so the sunrays can touch it. So that it’s beauty doesn’t go to waste.

2.18 (Rui)

Howard suddenly gets an awkward feeling. He can't help but recall that his plan to surprise Charmaine in a romantic way turned into a complete miss a few minutes ago. The recollection irritates him that he feels like hiding in his room and curling up on his bed. But hearing her voice on the phone right now is more than enough.

"But you know what, How," Charmaine continues. "I really am more worried about Derrick. You see, his situation is a bit different than ours. And I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

 

2.19 (a bodyguard to the Spencers)

Somewhere in London, a beefy, tall man in a business suit, shipshape and suave, moves along a clean carpeted hallway. He turns to a bend and enters a room—a vast, minimalist conference room—filled with businessmen, who ooze with importance and gravity.

Sid Rinsky finds not one head turning to his direction. Good. But he'll soon have to distract them, any second from now. He recalls how efficiently Emmanuel does his job. Any news concerning the name of the company, including concerns like the son's mistake or the daughter's, the mother should directly be informed. Even if she's in the middle of an important meeting. He has no choice. He's the head of her bodyguards and Emmanuel is not present at the moment.

Upon spotting the star of this meeting, the only woman among this bunch of gray-haired men, he wonders how Catherine Spencer is as a mother. What is she like, minus the CEO title? The woman meets gazes with him and he almost chokes. She raises an eyebrow at him, not fighting the superior air about her.

He then walks towards her in downright quickness. Upon reaching her, he leans over and whispers something to the queen of the Spencer Empire. The meeting keeps on, as though he remains invisible. Good.

"The young master Spencer has left…" as he tells her the news in an undertone.

The company heir leaving Paris…abandoning the surprise plan of pairing him up with that precious French heiress. It's pretty obvious that her children's muddles keep her in her toes. But it’s also obvious that it’s not mother-like. Her future plans for the company's undying success make up the fifty percent of the whole scenario. The other fifty is watching her children's every move and arranging their future. It’s for this empire. Any trifle thing shouldn’t exist at all.

Sid leans back after a dozen of words that sum up the story of Derrick's early antic. And that's when he catches a glimpse of the woman's reaction.

Looking out the extensive window at the night cityscape outside, he sees her taking one poised yet deep breath and then blinking heavily once. Like she could crush anyone with her bare hands and she's just holding back. Sid wonders if there’s anyone more terrifying than Derrick Spencer’s mother. Then, in a second, she shifts back to her elegant, professional facade. Smiling like a pompous Queen Bee at her investors as if nothing had happened.

 

2.20 (Tsukushi)

With the four yellow roses remaining on her windowsill, Briony stares out her opened window at the night sky. Only a few stars are evident tonight. She wonders briefly how the weather will be like tomorrow. A Monday. She smells the still-fresh flowers and then opens a book next to them, discarding those negative thoughts that are trying to climb up her spine again.

Unbeknownst to her, an affluent-looking woman is observing her from inside a parked black Benz by the sidewalk. Sitting comfortably in its backseat, the lady in her late 30s is looking up at her in an indescribable face expression.

It seems that Briony Mullins is also one of those people whose being watched with her every move.

2.21 (Tsukushi)

The breeze is cooler today than usual. Briony recalls there's only a week left before school starts. It's a Monday and it's her last week as a waitress at the small diner The Smits. She sure did save a lot these past two months in this part-time summer job. That should get me through this sophomore year without asking money from mom and dad. And besides, she still has that job in the pastry shop called Robinskins.

Wiping the table, she hears Mr. Smith trying to get his employee's attention by complaining that he will be short of two people in the last shift. Nobody reacts.

She observes the old man: he must be in his late 50s or early 60s and still has the perseverance to run a small business like this. Where are his kids? Does he even have one? She dares not ask because of the man's temper, which kind of explains it. Her dad once said that Mr. Smith was a widower and that's it. Only that still doesn't explain why the letter H is missing from the 'Smits' spelling.

Then, the no-reaction mode a few seconds earlier changes into everyone gaping, including their boss…

"Count me in, Mr. Smith," says Briony while raising her hand. "I could use four more hours. My next job doesn't start until 5."

"Thank you, Briony, thank you," the old man sincerely says. "Anyone else who would like to volunteer?"

But poor Mr. Smith proceeds sulkily back into his office. His asking for the third time just went in vain.

"And that only leaves you an hour before your next job," a plump fellow waitress, blonde and curly, tells her worriedly, "to prepare, get at least a quick snack, if Mr. Grouch here gives you one, and make a run for it."

"An hour gives you plenty of time," Briony says positively. "I can do all that in 20 minutes. Don't worry about me, Evelyn. And besides, this means more money and a coming school year means unexpected school materials. I better be prepared."

"Yes, and you better stay healthy, too, darling, you hear me?"

"I'm okay. Remember, a Briony is a uniquely strong, wild climbing vine—"

"So that means you're strong, the kind of girl who will never fall down from a wall and will always hang in there, yeah-yeah, I heard you the first time you said that."

She smiles at Evelyn then watches as her attention gets seized by something. A group of three girls enjoying their ice cream stops outside one of the diner's window. They are laughing like butterflies are parading inside their tummies.

"But mind you, girls your age should be eating ice cream and having a laugh at this time of day…just like those three. Like every other teenage girl in the country, you should be enjoying the last days of summer. You deserve it the most."

And those words certainly hit something inside Briony. But before it could take over her, she immediately shifts back to her cheerful self. "I'm having fun working here, too. I get to see you guys every day. Especially hearing these guys' jokes…they're priceless."

"God bless you, darling," then Evelyn takes a deep breath and smiles like she finally rests her case. "How I wish every girl in this town is like you. Seriously."

"No, you don't want them all poor, 'coz then you'll be leaving all the luxury and power to rich men," as Briony shrugs. She heads to a newly emptied table, leaving Evelyn a little confused by her words.

 

2.22 (Yuuki)

She wonders if he is really going to give her a call later. The guy who had asked for her number this afternoon at an ice cream parlor nearby and made her laugh. His dark blond hair stood out the most, she recalls. He was really cute, a little snobbish, but still adorable. Plus, he told her she was pretty and that he adored the blond highlights in her black hair.

"It is 10 minutes to 9, Eunice and-and," a woman, in her late 40s, turns around looking for another girl aside from her. "Where’s little Briony?"

Eunice Chai spins around, looking for her best friend, too. "Oh, she's outside, Ms. Robins." She admits, Briony is indeed petite, a few inches shorter than her, but the girl inside her best friend is one tough cookie.

"Well, girls, you can start closing the shop."

"Yes, Ms. Robins," And in the next moment, their boss is out of sight.

Eunice recalls that Ms. Robins’ first name is Liz. Maybe it’s short for Lizzy or Elizabeth. Then, she remembers Briony’s high opinion of her: straightforward, no non-sense kind of woman and independent. And she lives upstairs. And obviously alone. To Eunice, that’s kind of lonely. It’s just Briony’s thing; choosing to see the positive side of it. That’s second nature for her. But the actual view of her best friend through the glass walls diverts her thoughts.

Briony can be seen sweeping the small front outside, and Eunice notices, right then and there, that something is different about her friend tonight. She rushes outside straightaway.

"Bry, Ms. Robins says we can start closing the shop now, it's almost 9. Well, wait. You know what, you can go ahead. Get some rest. I can take care of this."

"What? Are you kidding me? I'm not going to leave you."

"You don't look…so good? Are you okay?"

"You, too? Why is everyone—I'm fine, Eunice. I promise."

"Okay, this past Saturday was…I don't know…round the clock? Diner waitressing then here and then hopping your way to that charity thing?"

"I didn't hop, I took the bus—"

"Bry!" Eunice nearly squeaks like a little fragile girl, both her hands seizing Briony’s right arm. "I used to like calling you The Warrior but now…"

"That's because I'm not. I'm Briony. I'm fine, I swear."

“You’re not very good at lying, you know.” To Eunice, sometimes, letting positivity play too much role in your life could be a bad thing, too. But this is Briony, so…

 

2.23 (Tsukushi)

On her way home from the pastry shop, Briony finally begins to feel some stickiness in her eyes. She tells herself it's just sleep finally getting to her. And that the cold she's feeling is just the current temperature of her surroundings. She remembers Evelyn's words about staying healthy—

"I'm sorry!" she says right after bumping into a woman, who turns to her briefly, looking a bit irritated. "I'm so sorry, ma'am!"

And the woman continues walking. So does Briony.

She wakes herself up by slapping her cheeks many times. I’m just hungry and tired. I wonder what they put aside for me—

View swirling, she tries to keep her body steady. But the spinning sensation doesn't stop. She ultimately falls to the ground.

*****

 

Main Cast

[American Character Name – Japanese Character Name (Inspiration)]

Briony Mullins – Makino Tsukushi (Caitlin Stasey)

Derrick Spencer – Domyouji Tsukasa (Max Irons)

Howard Griffin – Hanazawa Rui (Douglas Booth)

Sjon Wells – Nishikado Soujiro (Nico Tortorella)

Aldryn Bishop – Mimasaka Akira (Steven R. McQueen)

 

Others:

Eunice Chai – Yuuki Matsuoka (Malese Jow)

Charmaine Nichols – Shizuka Toudou (Blake Lively/Nina Dobrev)

Marianne Burks – Makiko Endo (Emily Osment)

Kyle Donmoyer – Kimoto Takayuki (Alex Russell)

Mark Hooper – Kimoto's friend (TBA)

Emmanuel Dillard – Nishida (TBA)

Laurie Mullins – Makino Chieko (TBA)

Felix Mullins – Makino Haruo (TBA)

Gian Mullins – Makino Susumu (TBA)

Ms. Robinson – Okami-san (TBA)

Rachel, Cacey & Kristen – Asai Yuriko, Ayuhara Erika & Yamano Minako (TBA)

Catherine Spencer – Domyouji Kaede (Melinda Clarke)

 

Added/Original:

Roger Anderson, Eleanor Lawson, Martin, Jane Urimoto, Mr. Urimoto, Evelyn, Mr. Smith, Ruby, Older Attendant, *Darwin Lawson and *Mina