Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew.
Re-written July 2015.
It had been so long since she had accepted contact from the outside world.
Ichigo Momomiya- no, that wasn't right. Ichigo had disappeared off the face of the planet long ago, in a freak accident that took the lives of her friends, Moe and Miwa. Nami Tsugowara, otherwise known as Miss Strawberry, had taken her place. It was Nami who sat against the wall in a dimly lit bar-tel, clad in black leather from the neck down with her long, crimson hair in a high ponytail, and it was Nami who sipped without abandon a mixture of vodka and scotch. She didn't like the stuff, but it made her blend in with the hunters who frequented the bar often. She had to change everything to keep herself secret, if not sane.
Even after so much time had passed, Nami's past caught up with her. Back when she was a hyperactive teenage heroine, she had inexplicably killed two of her close friends in a horrible car crash. Unable to show herself in the wake of deaths she had caused, even accidentally, the girl played it off like she died with them. She fled to a ratty motel and camped out until the investigation blew over, and then some; because she was still alive, the lack of a third body at the scene brought many questions that couldn't be answered, and the case turned cold when they ran out of leads.
Masaya, her poor boyfriend, had been crushed. He denied vehemently that she had been killed when detectives couldn't find her body, and even insisted on trying to help them find her. Seeing him on the news asking around for her made Ichigo feel guilty over leaving him that way, but there was nothing she'd do about it. At her funeral, Masaya mourned heavily, and cried almost as hard as Sakura, Ichigo's mother, did.
Tokyo Mew Mew had, predictably, grieved for their lost leader and (despite initially believing she would return, totally fine) moved on. Zakuro had become the lead Mew for a short time, until the group disbanded a year and a half later. There weren't any more threats to the city other than common burglaries and thefts, and the police had that handled. Each moved on, either to college or part-time jobs as their lives went on normally.
Akasaka and Shirogane had been upset upon hearing of her death, but they were also skeptical when her body didn't turn up. Both attempted tracking her down via her Mew pendant, but the signal was blocked and Akasaka was unable to break through the unknown firewall protecting it. Masha hadn't been with Ichigo when the accident happened, so he was useless in finding her. A couple of months post the end of the investigation, Akasaka too quit trying to locate the red-haired teen and gave into mourning.
Only Ryou continued to pursue her. Somehow he had figured out she escaped the accident with her life and holed herself somewhere inconspicuous, and took it upon himself to find her. His almost-obsession with locating someone who didn't want to be found (and who appeared dead to many others) made Akasaka and the girls worry about him. He had come so close to her location countless times, but she was watching and left as quickly as she came. Nearly two years past Ichigo's death did Ryou get an anonymous letter in the mail, which told him to wait for someone to contact him first. Stamped at the bottom was a small pink strawberry.
It was not until many years afterwards that Ichigo decided to resurface, under the alias "Miss Strawberry". It was the name she chose for her Mew form's new look, and it fit rather nicely. At twenty-four, eight long years since her staged death, she had come back full force and made a place for herself on the social ladder of Tokyo's underground as a renowned hitman. With no single employer, she took jobs that came her way and served well. It didn't matter who ordered the hit or what the person's death affected; if there was good money to be had, and with little to no penalty to herself, Miss Strawberry was there.
But she had taken tonight off. Barely a day prior she had taken out a very troublesome politician, whom she'd had to tail for three days before an ample opportunity arose. It was a hit with too much pressure on the hitman, and she needed time to relax and lay low after all hell broke loose when the American Senator Alois Foreman took a dive off the Japanese Prime Minister's balcony during an important arms trade convention. She barely got out before the whole place went on lockdown to root out the assassin.
Now, she lounged in a shady bar at the edge of the Tokyo metropolitan, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and enough booze to completely trash her already destroyed morality. It was here that she chose to finally reunite with Ryou Shirogane, hopefully ruining his expectations of her in the process. She fully intended to drop the blond genius from her life; she liked to live dangerously, and having someone like him always around would surely turn a few heads for the worse. Not to mention a connection with someone from her past would arise suspicion, or questions she didn't really want to answer.
"Nami Tsugowara!"
The self-proclaimed 'host' of the bar-tel called her name through his microphone, drawing the woman from her musings. She threw her head back and downed what remained of her alcohol, before leaving the empty glass and a five on the counter. As Nami made her way towards the stage, several drunken men turned her way and erupted with insinuations, catcalls and wolf whistles coming from all around the room. She ignored them with a heated glare, and had to resist the urge to deck one of them in the face.
Dirty, disgraceful, pathetic. That's all every man she had met ever amounted to be. Filthy, disgusting pigs who lusted after money and women and always ended up with neither. No man had been able to change her views about the opposite sex after she broke it off indirectly with Masaya. No man but one.
She met the host halfway, taking the offered microphone from his outstretched hand. He flashed a broad, sleazy grin as he passed her, winking lasciviously as he eyed her up and down. With thinly veiled disdain she rolled her eyes and took center stage. The lights dimmed until one shone down on her, and the music began.
In the chill of the night, I can feel my heart racing
As I run towards the light that seems so far away
Wondering forever in the darkest of shadows
Wondering if I will ever see you again
Wondering if I will ever see you again
I'll take your love (I'll take your love)
I'll take your hate (take your hate)
I'll take your desire
I'll take the world when it turns on you (when it turns on you)
I'll set it on fire
Nami looked at the front crowd of hunters as she sang, unable to see anyone's face beyond those seated closest to the platform. A few met her gaze, but most were focused on their drinks and their own coversations. Many watched her out of courtesy, not interest other than her supple figure and dazzling features. Comments from the galley before her easily reached her with feline clarity, all innuendous and despicable in nature. Some years back, she would have blushed and been altogether embarrassed about the situation. Now, she'd gladly meet them around the back of the bar, flirt a little shamelessly, then spit in their faces and claw their eyes out, quite literally.
W-the-w-th-th-the walking dead, the walking dead (walking dead)
Digging in the dirt, I can feel you getting closer
Steadying my hands through the blistering pain
Anxiously awaiting for the earth to reveal you
Wondering if I will ever see you again (see you again)
Wondering if I will ever see you again
Her grip tightened around the mic handle, voice unwavering as she remembered her first months as as Miss Strawberry. "The first kill is the one that stays with you the longest," a hunter she'd been close to once said. For many years she vividly recalled one of her most crucial mistakes: not finishing the job. She had to dig up the target from a fresh grave and end him in his final moments. He tried to speak to her, but dirt and blood clotted in his throat and he accidently spat it in her face before passing on. It disturbed her intensely to bury the man a second time. His mangled corpse reminded her too closely of the accident that ended the lives of her friends.
I'll take your love (I'll take your love)
I'll take your hate (take your hate)
I'll take your desire
I'll take your heart, I'll take your pain (I'll take your pain)
I'll bring you to life, I'll bring you to life
W-the-w-th-th-the walking dead, the walking dead (walking dead)
I'll bring you to life
As she stared beyond her fellow hunters, who were now quite closer to the platform than when she began, she whispered the last line into the microphone. Something caught her eye in the farthest reaches of the room, close to the bar. A flash of gold, a moment where Nami swore she felt her heart pause mid-beat in her chest. Then everything continued as it had, and the feeling disappeared.
I'll take your love (I'll take your love)
I'll take your hate (take your hate)
I'll take your desire
I'll take the world when it turns on you (it turns on you)
W-the-w-th-th-the walking dead
I'll take your love (I'll take your love)
I'll take your hate (take your hate)
I'll take your desire
I'll take your heart, I'll take your pain (I'll take your pain)
I'll bring you to life
With a loud thunk unheard by the unanimous clapping and selective cheering of the hunters, Nami returned the mic to its stand and walked off the platform. She wove through the boisterous crowd in silence, blatantly ignoring offers to take her home and requests for her phone number, or for her to partner up with them. The thick iron door gave way with ease and Nami stepped out into the bitter cold, her maroon orbs scanning over the parking lot with anticipation. She saw him inside, and she knew he had seen her.
A crunch of gravel behind her made her turn, and she was almost unsuccessful in stopping the gasp that built up in her throat. Around the corner of the bar stood Ryou Shirogane, in all his scruffy scientific glory, smoking a cigarette as he waited for her. When he saw her approach, he offered her a smirk and dropped the cancer stick, snuffing it out beneath his shoe. "Ichigo," he said.
The red-haired woman stiffened. "Nami," she corrected him.
Ryou chuckled. "It's nice to see you too, strawberry." His eyes, unnaturally bright beneath the moon, glittered warmly. "You're looking well."
"That's supposed to mean... what, exactly?" Nami growled, brow furrowing in building fury.
He held up his arms in a surrendering gesture, his smirk wide as he bared his fangs playfully. "I see that even in death, you're as feisty as ever, Ichigo," the blond man replied, and he took a step toward her.
Instinctively she started to step back, but she stopped herself. "It's Nami now. Ichigo's gone, Shirogane." Her tone was hard and cold, a weak cover for her fluttering heart.
Ryou's mouth curved gently as smirk became smile, his gaze boring into her own so strongly, she wouldn't be surprised if he could hear her heart's frantic change in pace. Nami visibly twitched when his stance abruptly went from casual to calm, giving her a look she couldn't understand. It was almost... tender. "You'll always be Ichigo to me," he said softly. "Nothing will change that."
"You're not-"
"Shh," Ryou suddenly closed the distance between them, towering over Nami as he leaned close to her face, "don't speak. No more words from you tonight." Their lips met and she felt her walls crumble, almost unwillingly so as he deepened the kiss. They didn't advance past liplock, but she was trapped in a warm, passionate rush of emotion that contented her just fine. His arms, strong and safe, wrapped her in an embrace, holding her to his chest as their mouths moulded as one.
She missed the touch of another person more that she had let herself believe.
They finally broke the kiss after several long seconds had passed and they realized they needed oxygen. Lapsing into silence as they caught their breath, neither wanted to break the fragile atmosphere. Nami's hands were taken into Ryou's and he smiled down at her, the image stealing her breath away. "Follow the leader, I-chi-go," he purred.
In a flash of blue light the man was gone, replaced by the grey cat Nami recognized instantly, down to the crooked tail and dark green bandana. "Alto," she murmured, before she too was engulfed in a soft blue light. When the parking lot returned to normal, a black cat with a small, dark pink ribbon tied around the base of her tail stood before the grey cat, crimson and cerulean meeting with mutual agreement. Black tailed after grey as the two cats ran off, leaving no trace of either human behind.
Autumn: So how's that for a story, ne?
Ichigo: Why am I all emo and crap?
Autumn: Cos I made you that way, get over it.
Ryou: laughing in the background
Ichigo: SHIROGANE!
Autumn: R&R!