CHAPTER 1: THE STORM

"You. are. such. an. ass" Ichigo gritted through clenched teeth, face scrunched up into an ugly scowl that did wholly suit her usually cheerful countenance. Her hands were fisted at her sides, and her face was horribly red, induced by the genetic curse of automatically turning various colors due to any emotional upheaval which, at the impromptu moment in time, was caused by the idiotic boy standing in front of her.

Ryou Shirogane stared smugly back at her, knowing just how to press her buttons, and loving it. She hated it. She loathed how he could rile her up. Despised how she could never get him angry. He never got emotional but he knew just what to calmly say to shatter, destroy, or hurt someone. He could rip someone's existence to shreds with that snide tongue of his.

However, on the other case scenario, he was so good with words that he could make someone feel extremely and genuinely significant, as though that person was the center of his universe. Not that he had ever attempted this practice on her of course. Nope, she was usually stuck with being demeaned by his sarcastic words.

And here they were, at it again.

Lovely.

What else was new? Just another row was already in the making.

Ryou cocked his head to the side mockingly "Why are you so angry baka?" His tone was laced with an air of fake innocence while his eyes glimmered deviously.

She glared, vision enhanced with red rage. How did it always get to this point? To the point where she couldn't think clearly, where she couldn't breathe because there was so much charged energy and tension in the room. The café was stifling, hard to breathe, and yet- it was only the two of them.

"I'm leaving" Ichigo exploded finally. She shoved past him in her usual hotheaded manner.

She did not care anymore that it was freaking storming to high heavens out there. That there were continual weather warnings about the brewing storm, thunder, and rain-That a major warning for a hurricane was in session. She did not care about her mother's ringing admonitions of not to leave the café, to stay where it was safe and sheltered even if meant staying the night, alone, with him.

She just did not care.

All she cared about was putting enough distance between her and Ryou. She could not stand one more minute, especially alone, with the jerk.

"What?"

"I'm leaving" Ichigo reiterated.

Ryou scowled in disapproval, "like hell you are. It's a weather hazard out there. I'm not letting you jeopardize your life like that just because you don't want to spend one more second with me"

"Why do you care?" She challenged.

"I don't" he said coolly, without missing a beat. "I just don't want your death on my hands"

Ouch. Her ego plummeted. She couldn't pretend that his statement didn't hurt. After all, for one who knew her for many years, were sort of- semi friends, for that one to say to the other that he was impartial to her hypothetical death…well, that was, simply hurtful. And even if said hypothetical death was a joke, what sick fuck joked about their friend's hypothetical death?

Okay, so maybe she was going a little overboard with his comment- after all Ryou had saved her life countless times- but still, Ichigo was nothing if not theatrical and exaggerated.

"Well, don't bother coming to my funeral, since you don't seem to care at all" she snapped back viciously.

"I- " An emblem of guilt flickered in his ice blue eyes, enraging her further. Good, he should feel guilty. What a heartless statement to say.

He tried to interrupt her but Ichigo wasn't having it. She talked over him "Anyway, I'm not spending another minute with you. So goodbye Ryou. How does it feel that I'd rather face a storm then face you?" She ended sweetly as she marched smartly to the door.

Ryou's gaze darkened, "You are not going anywhere".

He grabbed her arm, his grip firm.

She tugged at her wrist, his grip surprisingly tight around it.

"Let me go" she snarled.

"Like hell I will." Ryou snapped back "crazy idiot"

His grip was strong and she couldn't shake it. Exasperated, Ichigo rolled her eyes. "Let me go Ryou! You don't own me, you can't tell me what to do, you're not the boss of me-"

"Technically I am."

"That doesn't give you authorization over the rest of my life so just let me leave—"

"No. Absolutely not" He snapped.

She looked at him deliberating. He was physically stronger and faster than she, spanning at his towering height of six feet, his body lethal and lean filled with sinewy muscle. Though she had previously been a Mew, her powers had slowly dissipated with time as the war faded into the background.

Even if she got away from his clutches he could easily catch up to her and throw her over his shoulder like a bag of Irish potatoes. Knowing him, he would also lock her in a closet of some sort and leave her there all night to guarantee her safety. She wouldn't put it past him, his audacity, and his control freak syndrome of being a dictator.

As though he was reading her mind, he announced threateningly.

"You know I can stop you if you even try" He looked seriously pissed. His face was flushed pink, blue eyes bright, and his unruly blonde hair more tousled than usual.

She huffed, crossing her arms, and attempted to swallow her pride. She hated being told what to do but she couldn't very well march out that door with him holding onto her arm. "Fine" she muttered, jerking at her wrist for him to release her.

Ryou searchingly searched her eyes for a minute, seeing her spark of anger and determination ebb away. Designating her safe enough to think rationally, she supposed, he released his hold.

"Fine" He echoed.

She plopped onto the café's couch with a scowl "I can't believe you're keeping me hostage like this" She muttered, irritated. "You are so extreme"

"Yeah, well, you'd be extreme too if you saw everyone you care for die" He muttered angrily. He always let too much information slip when he was angry. One would get more out of the tip lipped man when he was pissed rather than when he was comfortable. And sure enough, it had happened again. She blinked rapidly at the intensity of his statement.

You'd be extreme too if you saw everyone you care for die.

Her eyes softened, unconsciously, and pity shaped her almond shaped eyes as she looked at the handsome youth who had faced and shouldered more than one should have to burden. Sometimes it was easy to forget because he was so overconfident, cocky, and overbearing. Yet, he had lost both his parents as a boy; and he had lost Keichiiro, his caretaker and best friend, to an ailing, incurable disease. She winced painfully as she thought of that memory.

Poor Keichiiro.

Poor, poor Keiichiro.

Though three years had passed since his death, she could remember every detail of that horrible, nightmare of a time as though it were yesterday. She recollected feeling utterly helpless as she watched her friend slowly wither into nothing. It was an incurable disease that slowly yet steadily seeped the life out of him. He had become a haggard skeleton of the handsome man he had once been. Her heart thrummed painfully in her chest and she went down memory lane.

Yet, her suffering had been nothing compared to Ryou's. He had looked haunted and horror struck in the coming months. He had paid numerous doctors of the best degrees to fix his friend and even when they had said it was inevitable that Keiichiro would die in a year's time, Ryou would not take their words as truth. Instead he took it upon himself to find the solution. Numerous hours he had spent in his lab alienating himself and attempting to use his intellectual strengths to find a cure yet to no avail. Instead, circles of tiredness developed under his eyes, his weight dropped rapidly, and he became practically mute. Except with Keiichiro, and only with Keiichiro did Ryou make an effort to be positive and fake-optimistic with. It's going to be fine. You're going to be alright. Even though everyone knew it was all pretense and lies.

Everyone knew he was not going to be alright. The worst was that Keiichiro himself knew it. One would only have to look in his toffee colored eyes and see the glimmer of hopelessness in his gaze. Unlike Ryou, Keiichiro's face was an open book.

When he died, Ichigo knew Ryou blamed himself.

More guilt and more pain developed in Ryou's heart.

Guilt over his parent's death.

Guilt over his ability to save his best friend.

Guilt over the mew project.

Guilt over changing the genetic engineering of the five girls to transform into mews.

Guilt if any one of them got hurt.

Then he would lock all these emotions up in his heart with his mouth tightly closed so as to never speak of it again. Every once in a while his emotions would glimmer in his burning blue eyes before he managed to obscure it once more behind an inscrutable gaze.

How much guilt could he hold? She had wondered. Why couldn't he just let it go?

An overwhelming rush of sadness and guilt washed through her, and she sunk into the cafes couch, biting her lip in agitation. The weather of rain, doom, and gloom suddenly reflected her mood perfectly.

Who was she to pester and bother him? Who was she to make his life harder than it already was? It was so easy to forget all his hardships due to his overbearing personality and her own impatient one but she tried to hold onto the wave of compassion she felt for him.

She would do better next time, she vowed silently to herself.

Maybe, leaving him alone would be the best option. At least that would stop them from practically lunging at each other's throats.

She automatically recoiled from the thought, surprised at her own reaction. Bemusedly, she glanced at the blonde boy. The idea of him not being a constant presence in her life filled her with anxiety and she shyed away from the idea of it.

Even though they were constantly at each other's throats, they were semi-friends, and she never turned her back on a friend.