It came of no surprise that Ikuto loved milk. The delicious, creamy beverage never ceased to amaze him. But no matter which brands he drank, he noted that milk tasted best when he had stolen it from his rosette, Amu. He loved seeing her startled expression, the blush that was sure to follow, and then finally her outraged look as he drained her bottle. He'd tease her, telling her that they'd had another indirect kiss before avoiding whatever she threw his way. She'd yell at him, calling him a thief, a pervert, all with that endearing tinge of red on her face. Ikuto looked up at the sky from his spot in a tree, a smirk crossing his face. He was getting thirsty…Perhaps it was time to visit his little strawberry…
