Author's Note: So, before I begin this chapter, I want to make a couple things clear. I DO NOT think Kish and Ichigo would ever work out as a couple, and do not intend to give them a happy ending. If you are looking for fluff and cuteness, this is no the story for you. I wrote this after watching episode thirty nine of Tokyo Mew Mew, and, judging by Kisshu's emotional state at the end, after he wakes Ichigo and then nearly kills her, I don't see how things could have turned out well for either of them. I am not going to bash the sexy green alien in this story, nor our adorable red headed mew. I intend to keep them in character, as much as possible, and deliver a story about what might have happened if Kish decided to take matters into his own hands the evening after the battle and the lavender dream. I mean to deliver a fanfic which is in three parts, and warn you there will be no happy ending. This is a dark story, and a hard T. I would like to ask underage readers to reconsider going any farther into this fic if sexual situations and violence upset you. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I would also like to note that I do not condone sexual harassment or assault or any form of abuse, and, in writing about them, I do not mean to glamorize or romanticize the topics. That is part of the reason I am not calling this a romantic fanfiction. Finally, I am considering posting an "M" version of this story, but have not decided yet. If you would be interested in reading it, you can let me know and I will try to get it posted.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate your support, and would like to say that I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew!

Ichigo Momomiya, aged thirteen, red- haired, and beautifully, wonderfully in love, sat at her bedroom window one dark December night. It was the Christmas season, the season of being close to the ones you care for, and Ichigo could not have imagined a person more suited for such a season than her boyfriend, her Aoyama- kun. With a bubbling giggle, she turned her face into the open window and let the winter wind whip her blushing cheeks to roses. They had a date set for tomorrow, her and her Aoyama- kun, and she could hardly wait. Already she had her outfit picked, spread across the chair at her vanity, in the form of a panda- printed pink sweater and a frilly red skirt to be worn over a pair of soft wool leggings. Beside it, she thought with an embarrassed laugh, was a tube of berry- colored lip stick. Minto, her sophisticated and lovely teammate, had helped her choose the shade just a few days earlier. Ichigo was typically not one for fancy cosmetics and, as she had a tendency to sleep in until the last possible moment, she rarely had time to apply any sort of make up at all. But it was nearly Christmas and in every corner of Tokyo one could find mistletoe strung up in a lovely emerald bunch, and Ichigo had been hoping against hope that her Aoyama- kun might kiss her under such a pretty bustle. And when he did- if he did- she wanted to be perfect for him. Oh, her Aoyama- kun- her kind, sweet, Aoyama- kun-

He was the reason she was at her window that night. The stars twinkled before her, perfect for wishing, and she gazed out at them as the keys to unlocking true love. And she did love Aoyama, And, oh, if he were to kiss her under the mistletoe toe the next day and tell her that he loved her as well, then it would be the finest Christmas she'd ever had- the finest Christmas anyone ever had.

With a giggle and another blush, Ichigo pulled the top of her flannel pajamas close as another gust of ice- threaded wind battled its way into her room. It was late, she realized, as the blinking clock on the dresser caught her eye. She had school the next day, and her date with Aoyama- kun. She certainly did not want to look a mess.

With one last smile at the stars above, Ichigo shut the window, turned the blinds, and made her way to her bed. There she climbed under the heavy pink covers, pulled the sheets to her chin, and sank into sweet, sweet dreams of snow and stars and Christmas kisses.

When Ichigo first opened her eyes, she did not realize anything was out of the ordinary. Indeed, she did not know what woke her exactly, or whom, but figured something must have fallen in her closet or off her dresser. She was inclined to ignore it, and her drowsy eyelids would have been quick to close, if it had not been for the whisper of breath which sounded from what had once been empty space beside her desk.

In an instant, her eyes shot open, and she threw herself into a sitting position. Her hand groped in the dark for her power pendent, that magical golden piece which would transform her into the warrior Mew Ichigo, and felt her heart drop to her stomach when she realized it was not on her bed stand as usual.

"Wha- what?" she muttered in the shadows, as she fooled about for the lamp chain which would provide some form of light, some form of hope and comfort.

Cold comfort, it happened, as a strong hand, tight as a noose and cold as the snow outside, clasped hard about her wrists and forced her back onto her pillows.

"Don't even try it, Ichigo," a chillingly familiar voice sounded quiety, next to her ear, as a pair of cool lips came down to graze the sensitive skin of her soft cheek. With a shrill squeal she moved to jerk away, and found herself pinned, arms held near above her head by one white, white hand, mouth covered by a set of strong fingers ended in talons, beneath the alien Kisshu.

"You!" she gasped out from behind his palm, and her voice did not sound as courageous as she might have wished. "What do you think you're doing here? Get out! Get out before I power up and kick you from her to the moon!"

Her words were muffled, but he seemed to understand, and, to her rage and terror, he did not leave but rather threw back his head in a cruel laugh. She glared up at him, fighting down the tears which threatened to spill, and jerked in surprise as his hand moved from her lips to her neck to stroke against the supple skin of her collar bones.

"Don't be mean, my kitten," he breathed, and she shivered as he sharp fang touched her ear lobe, "Speak kindly to me. I've been through a lot today, you know. Because of you, mostly. Because of what you do to me."

She looked at him in shock, for, as far as she was concerned, he had done nothing to deserve her pity. She'd been kidnapped by his comrades that afternoon, and strung up like a doll, forced into a deep and deadly sleep, as Pia and Tart prepared to kill her dearest friends and comrades in her own dream. Kisshu had woken her up, yes, and she might have been grateful, if he'd not followed her through her fall and lashed out to kill her as soon as she landed.

"You tried to stab me!" she hissed in the night, in what she assumed was the general direction of his face. The shadows hid him from her view, and she was thankful, for she did not want him to see her either, and the terror which was no doubt apparent. "I had just woken up! I had nearly died! And there you were, ready with your swords, and I couldn't even catch a breath before you tried to stab me! What sort of person does that?"

"I made you an offer," he retorted sharply, and a glint of steel in the shadows let her know he had his dragon swords out and ready, and her heart very nearly stopped, "You could have promised to be mine, and I would have saved you. I never would have hurt you if you promised to be mine. I would protect you always, and you would be safe from this war between our planets."

"You-" Ichigo could not find the words to say to the twisted young boy, for she did not understand how he could think to force a person through threat of death to belong to him, and then make such sweet promises.

"I will never be yours." She stated firmly, finally, and winced as he tightened his grip on her wrists.

"Don't say that!" he roared, and she flinched and looked anxiously at her door, praying her parents did not come barging in. He had her underneath him, and his thighs were wrapped firmly around her waist, and she could not imagine what they looked like on her bed like this. Her face flamed red with shame, and he must have guessed what she was thinking, for when he next spoke the anger was gone from his voice and a sort of mirthless laughter followed his words.

"We look like lovers, koneko- chan, in this position," he whispered tauntingly, and flipped up her shirt to nuzzle his face into her bare stomach, "We should be lovers. We will be lovers, Ichigo. I swear it. And I'll be a good lover to you, too."

"Get off me, Kisshu!" She shrieked, and thrashed hard against him. He did not release her, but, to her horror, groaned in delight and rolled his narrow hips against her's.

"I want to be your lover, kitten," he said softly, and he placed a gentle kiss at the base of her throat. "I will be good to you- so good- I'll make you feel wonderful things, and I'll give you so much, everything I have. We'll be so happy, Ichigo-"

He was trying to unbutton her shirt now, and he had released her wrists so he could fiddle with his shorts. In her new found freedom, Ichigo, without thinking, without considering the consequences, brought her hand back fiercely and slapped him hard across the face. In his shock, he fell back, and the mew mew was quick to untangle herself from the sheets and dart to her door. Her hand had fallen on the handle when she felt his claws in her hair and she jerked back roughly against his chest. His very bare chest.

"Get off me!" She wheezed, and struggled against the hands which had locked themselves around her throat. "Get off right now or I'll scream!"

A sharp sting at her side, driven by the tip of his blade, halted her squirming.

"Go ahead and scream, kitten," he said with poisonous sweetness, "Wake the house. Wake the whole neighborhood if you like. If anyone rushes in here to bother us, I'll kill them. I swear I will."

"No!"

"I'll kill your parents first," He said nastily, as the tip of his sai pressed roughly against her rib cage, "And then your sweet, pretty friends. Then your idiot of a boss who was fool enough to oppose us, and finally, finally, when you're so near to broken that you can't take anymore, I'll kill your handsome romeo right before your eyes. Then you'll certainly break and be mine."

"You are a monster, Kisshu." Ichigo said quietly, as the tears at last made their way down her face, which had paled considerably through the torment. "How could you threaten such a thing to so many innocent people?"

"You are mine, Ichigo," he replied simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Why shouldn't I do everything I can to have you?"

"I don't belong to you, Kisshu. You don't own me. My heart has been given to Aoyama- kun, and you can't do anything to change that."

He was silent for a moment, and there was a fleeting hope in her heart that she had gotten through to him at long last, and that perhaps he understood that he could do nothing to win her way from Aoyama- kun, and perhaps he'd let her be and go back to his planet and find himself a nice girl-

But her hopes were dashed to the ground in pieces when he wove his long, clawed fingers through her strawberry locks and fisted her hair roughly backwards so that she was forced against his chest. Her face forced upwards, she was made to stare at the ceiling above her as the tip of his sai found its way under her lifted chin. One move, she knew, and she was dead, as his fingers twisted in her hair and he allowed for a little kiss at the bottom of her neck. He meant to be tender with her, but she struggled and his temper rose up once more.

"I saved you," he snarled in a voice so hateful she thought he might plunge the dagger into her right then, "You should be grateful. You should want to be with me. I saved you from my brothers, from the fate you so deserved, you little witch, and now you are alive and well and instead of thanking me, instead of loving me, you want to run on back to your ass of a boyfriend. Well, where was he this evening, Ichigo? Why wasn't he there to shake you awake and save your life? Didn't do a very good job protecting you then, did he Ichigo? But I did. I risked everything for you, and you don't give me one shred of gratitude. Not one."

"I-" she was dumbfounded, for he was behaving as though he had lost his mind, and she did not know what to say. She scared too, so scared, as the cold metal of his sword caressed her face, and she found she could not quite string together the words she needed. "I- I thank you... Kisshu. For saving me."

It was an awkward thank- you, for she wanted nothing more than to get the knife away from her throat and this mad alien out of her house, but he seemed to take it to heart and, to her great relief, he lowered his blade and turned her gently so that she was forced to gaze into his bright gold eyes which shown like flames in the shadows of her room.

"Do you mean that, kitten?"

Ichigo nodded mutely, praying he did not try to kiss her, and tried her best to back away without making him angry. He did not seem to notice, but pulled her closer, until his arms were around her waist and her face was level with his shoulder. Even in the shadows she could see the dark wound which the blue knight- her dearest protector (how she wished he was here now!) had left on his chest just a few days before. It looked painful, truly, and still bloody, and she gave a little gasp of pity, for she was a kind girl and even though she was terrified to high heaven of this crazed boy, she pitied the pain he must have felt from that deep, dark cut.

He heard her gasp and chuckled, and reached up to clutch her fingers in his and hold her hand to his heart.

"It all feels better now that you are here," he said sweetly, and she gazed up at him in amazement, for his mood swung about so fast she was dizzy with fear. His daggers were lowered now, but she knew him well enough to know he would be quick to raise them up once more if she angered him. "You do care for me, don't you Ichigo? You don't want me to be hurt?"

Again she nodded silently, for it was true enough. It pained her to see him bloody on the roof that afternoon. Scary as he was, she did not wish him pain.

"Then you must marry me, Ichigo."

"What?" At this request, spoken as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, she felt her breath knocked from her body. He simply nodded, his face like stone.

"I've been ready for it since I saw you, since I kissed you, and now that you've come around to see how good I could be to you, how I will protect you from anything, and you know you care for me, there is no reason at all to wait."

"Kish- no- I can't-"

He took a step back as if she had stabbed him, and she gasped in fear as she saw the look on his face was the darkest she'd seen.

"After all I've done for you," he hissed, his voice as soft as poison, "After I saved your life, your very life, you still won't have me?

"Kish, I can't marry you," she said in what she hoped was a calming voice, though she found she could not keep the tremble from her voice, "I'm too young- we're too young- and I have Ao-"

"Don't say it."

She fell silent, hating herself for her cowardice. The room was quiet for a moment, and then the boy used his sword and pointed to the wrinkled sheets of the bed.

"Then lay down," he said quietly, as he rose his second dagger to meet her face, "Lay down on the bed and let me make love to you."

"What?!" Ichigo gasped as she felt her face heat as the tears pooled over and she began to thrash wildly against him. She had to get away from him- this crazed man- "Get off, Kisshu! Get off me! Let me go and leave me alone!"

His palm slammed over her lips then, and he dragged her to him to hold her tight in the crook of his arm.

"Shh, shh, sweet kitten," he said tenderly, "I'll be gentle. Just lay down and relax and I'll make you so happy. I'll show you-"

He tried to kiss her neck then, and his hands traveled underneath her flannel shirt.

"No!" She cried, and finally gathered the strength to shove herself backwards, "Kisshu! You're being gross! I said thank you! Thank you for saving my life today! Now please, please, let me go to bed."

"Let me go to bed with you."

"No!"

"I saved you. You owe me."

"I can't- I have a boyfriend- you and I are enemies-"

"We don't have to be," he whispered, and offered Ichigo a seductive smile, "We could forget about my planet, about yours. We could leave, just the two of us. I could take you somewhere sweet. I could take you to paradise."

"Please leave, Kisshu."

"Not without you, Kitten."

"I-" Ichigo drew in a breath as she gathered her courage. His eyes had begun to glow an eerie blue, and his dragon swords were clenched tightly in his fists. She did not want to anger him. She did not want to hurt him. But he had to stop talking this nonsense and leave. She had the overwhelming feeling that she was not safe with this boy, that she never would be. "I need to go to sleep, Kisshu. I'm very tired. Please leave now."

He looked her over for a second, as if considering her order, before a lazy, predatory smile spread over his pale features.

"Oh, you can sleep, sweetheart," he cooed, as he rose his cold fingers to stroke her cheek. "I can help you sleep."

She didn't quite understand what he meant until she saw his other hand lash out, sai still in his fingers, and the blunt end of the weapon collided with her head and she fell forward into his waiting arms and into darkness.