Well, people, here I am writing another story… This time about unrequited love. Jesus, I pick the happiest topics, don't I? First quiet delirium, homicidal urges and now this. And the sad thing I'm such a happy, spunky person in real life.

But anyways, moving on, you already know this take place within Tokyo Mew Mew. I chose this topic because, personally, I think Ryou got gypped hardcore. He went through all the crap, kissed Ichigo about 10 times more than Masaya did, and even got mortally wounded for her and Ichigo goes 'Oh, poor Ryou. Well, I'ma go talk to Masaya now, bye-bye!!'

When I finished the manga, I was like "WTF, mate" I was so not amused. So, here's a little look-see into how Ryou really felt about that situation. Because I know I sure as HELL would not smile, give her a hug and except how she treated me in the end. I'd have screamed, yelled, cried and have a full and total break down complete with floor pounding hysterics.

I personally never liked Masaya, but if Ichigo was really going to go and be with him, the least she could've done is handle the situation better. I mean, Ryou put his heart on his sleeve. And she ripped it off and stomped on it. All the while saying 'I hope you understand'. Tch, pisses me off…

Anyway, there's my reasoning for this story. If you think Ichigo handled it fine, you're not quiet there in the head. But that's okay. I hear you're to humor crazy people.

Mazzie May

Ryou continued to stare at his ceiling. In his room at Café Mew Mew. He'd be leaving soon, a day or two from now. But he wasn't thinking about that. He was trying not to think of anything. You know it really is amazing how hard it was to keep his mind blank. He'd always have that 'breath in, breath out' voice and the registration in his brain that he just blinked. No matter how hard he tried, Ryou could not force his mind to drift off into an empty abyss, void of all worries, all sounds, all sights, all thoughts of her…

"Damn it" he sighed remorsefully. He drew is left arm up and away from his side and slide his forearm unto his forehead, covering his eyebrows. He opened his eyes slowly, the thick dark lashes sticking together slightly as they were forced apart gently. They were still gummy from the thick tears that had manifested at the corners of his green orbs.

Ryou's tears were always special, as no one else he ever met cried the way he did. He would not sob, or choke nor would his body ever quake and quiver. But thick, salty tears would escape his eyes. They left large and long heart-wrenching streaks down his youthful, lightly tanned skin. And last night had been no exception.

He'd lain on his back, arms at his sides. His face completely blank. The pleasantly bored look of a cat. You'd never know something was wrong. Except for those tears. He'd closed his orbs and the tears began to build up. They pooled around his lashes, making those dark blonde strands shimmer. But they would overflow, sliding out of the pool of salt water and create a small rivulet from the corner of his closed orbs, past his ear and through his hair to the pillow case bellow his heavy head. And then the process would repeat. Tears pool, overflow, fall to the pillow, repeat.

That is how he'd spent the night; mentally beating himself so hard it became physical.

Hs eyes were hallow. No longer that crisp green, cold and as distant as winter skies. Those eyes were long dead. Replaced by a darkening meadow green, that green that was so new, so young, one touch and it would break. His eyes once rivaled spring skies; so bright, yet managed to look so cold. Now they were like green glass, you could almost see what was happening in his head. But only almost, with the wetness still hovering there. That damp shine, like wet silk.

When he moved his gaze, those around him more than half expected to see ripples flow across the iris and pupil. But that was rare, for barely anyone was aloud to see him like this. See him with eyes of wet silk.

Which is what he was laying on.

With another sigh escaping his lightly chapped lips, he tried to shift to a dryer area on the pillow. He'd indeed cried hard, for the dark patches were on either side of his head, the white silky pillowcase turned to a soft grey, eggshell color where his tears had made a new home. But, try as he mite, Ryou could not find a dry – and comfortable – position. He laid his head back to its original place and turned his head to the side, sighing a bit, but quickly in hailed. He face twitched a moment as he winced, the pain quick and sharp, but just as quickly gone.

His arm, shoulder and torso were still recovering from the last battle with Kisshu, Pai, Taruto and all the other aliens. He'd dislocated his shoulder, broke his arm in two places, broken three ribs, and cracked a fourth. 'All in the name of love…'

Oh, there he went again. Thinking about her. But was it really all for her? No, no of course not. He'd have taken those hits for any of the girls. But he didn't take a hit for any of the others. He'd taken them for Ichigo. Her and her 'Blue Knight'. He was lucky to be alive…

The pain had been intense, white hot, searing. He'd cried out. He never cried out. He remembered the pain that temporarily blinded him. Flashes of blue, red, purple, green, yellow – all the colors of the world over took his vision. He felt cold inside, but his skin burned. Numb, yet electric. So many things, yet nothing at all. It was a horrible but still thrilling sensation. It was the feeling of dying on the inside. He still felt it. His innards slowly decaying, organs and muscle shriveling, but what he felt most of all, was his soul dying. It leaked out bit by bit, never to be retrieved. He was losing his personality, his standards, morals, memories… It was all just drifting around, just out of reach. That's how he new he was losing his soul; he could see everything he once was. Everything he would never be again.

A small sound escaped his lips. He was worthless. Totally worthless now. 'Maybe Ichicgo saw that.' His old voice wisped across his barren and vulnerable mind. His old voice, that of which he used to posses. When he was still a whole person, not the empty husk, this pitiful shell, a pathetic excuse for a human bean. That voice was crisp, cool, held its ground, but had a soft undertone of kindness when it came to certain things. But that voice was dripped with acid, filled with a malice that made Ryou visible shudder. 'Maybe she new that you would become this way. She new you would let her down. So she dropped you like a bad habit' Oh, that voice. So mean…

He quivered suddenly, the cold truth of the voice washing over him like he'd been tossed into the artic ocean. The bed shifted greatly, causing him to wince and a hiss through clenched teeth. He would not cry out. He still had his pride. It was broken, bruised, and bleeding, but it was still there. That had not died. Not yet.

The weight shifting of the bed continued, the soft rustling of the silky sheets, the quiet creak of the stiff mattress. The blankets were suddenly pushed aside, in a wave of shiny, black, wet silk his body was over taking for a moment. He gave a small grunt and pushed the sheets away from his face, ready to slap whoever did that, when he saw Purin.

Well, buddies, they're you go. Chappie one complete. The next one will involve a bit of Purin's thinking but that's about it

Also, the name thing. Yes, I do know their English names. But you know what? The Japanese ones are cuter. Though, I am leaving Mint as "Mint", not "Minto". It serves a purpose in later chapters, and the joke will make a bit more sense if it's left "Mint".

Well, see you next Chapter

Manga Trivia: Who said "I'll beat him someday, that damned cat!! Then I will become part of the zodiac!!" and who was it said to and about?

I'll give you a cookie if you can guess all three