Program Lovely
chapter three; Verifying Files
checking systems... confirming password... logged in.
The tea was cold.
And it had been cold for approximately six minutes and forty-four seconds. The fact that, out of everyone, Pudding - attention-deficit, ball-of-energy Pudding - was the one to count and remember that was just as good an indicator as any of how awkward the current situation was.
For one, Mizuki had been in the kitchen for all of those six minutes, at least. Cleaning, probably; the only sound that filled the entire cafe was the clinging of dishes and the sloshing of water. Zakuro couldn't begin to fathom where she'd managed to find so many dirty dishes, when this place had been closed for years, but who knows? Maybe Ryou had been too lazy to even clean up after himself?
Tick. Tick. Tick. In the kitchen though she may have been, each of the girls had this eerie feeling that robot-girl could - and probably did - hear every little thing they happened to say. For that reason, it had been hard enough to carry a conversation, knowing that she was standing just feet away, analyzing them, studying them, judging them based on every word. Well. That's what they felt she was doing, anyway. It seemed silly, knowing she was what she was, but still...
Tick. Tick. So in complete silence, they sat, staring at each of their own respective, now-cold beverages, wondering if there was any way to escape the tortuous silence. Lettuce, especially, fidgeted in her seat uncomfortably, shifting her nervous blue eyes toward the kitchen door.
"Is anyone else," she said in a low, breathy whisper, lest Mizuki overhear and decide to go kamikaze-mahou-robot on them all, "scared to ask for more tea?"
But before anyone else could answer, the door did. All heads stopped, all heads turned, and in that very doorway was the answer to their prayers – their escape.
Ichigo's stumbled in, her body slumping affectionately against the inside wall, "Ahh, it's so warm in here…"
"Ichigo!"
"Shirogane-oniichan!
The chairs clattered noisily as all four girls simultaneously jumped to their feet, and made a dash to tackle-hug the two, chorusing in rejoice.
"Whoah," Ryou attempted to take a step back, but before he'd much chance to get any further Pudding glomped his arm, squealing incessantly. "What do you guys think you're--?"
Making a noise of struggle as Lettuce hugged her, while pulling Ryou into the Love Blob at the same time, Ichigo had about the same reaction at first, though she grinned and started laughing quickly after.
"Hi everyone!" She called, voice bubbling with girlish giggles as Pudding wrapped her monkey-kid leg around her neck to accomplish a double-hug. Even when Mint (while having her arms wrapped loosely around the two in a dignified, yet friendly-esque matter) commented on the fact that the Wet-Dog look did not help the red-head's vulgar appearence in the least, and Ichigo, naturally, had to retort back in a quickfire way, Ryou noticed there was still a smile wrapped beneath her faux-angry features, glowing so unmistakably bright that it would be impossible to take her seriously at all, especially for Mint, who never seemed to do so in the first place.
She really was glad to be back, wasn't she?..
He cracked a smile just as Zakuro joined in, quietly latching on to the outside of the group to contribute to the 'family' atmosphere created... or, at the very least, have an excuse to get away from the thick and suffocating air that had surrounded them just moments before.
Still, even the stoic model had to admit a group hug was refreshing, and she didn't even have the chance to feel at all nostalgic, because nothing was missing. 5 years of little to no contact with each other, and they were still as close as ever...
...it was amazing, and everyone else knew it.
Once the laughter and light-hearted argument had died down, Mizuki silently stepped out of the kitchen, waiting politely in the doorway, watching the group with mild interest. Even though there was still some low chatter going on, she spoke in a clear and attention-grabbing voice, without using an ounce of emotion.
"Welcome back, Shirogane-sama."
Stopping, without seperating in their hug, everyone looked up with perplexed expressions. Ichigo felt Lettuce's posture grow rigid, and realized that Pudding had tightened her playful hug into a death grip. Huh? Why are they so tense? Still, even she was a bit surprised by the extreme formality - so much that the fact she had received no acknowledgement whatsoever flew right over her head.
"Ehh," Clearing his throat in discomfort, Ryou attempted to ease monkey-girl's hold on his arm as he spoke, "Mizuki, you really don't have to call me by... that. Just 'Ryou' is fine." Ichigo looked at him funny, and realized he seemed a bit embarassed. She blinked, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, completely disregarding the fact that he was probably not used to or comfortable with people talking 'up' to him. No, Ichigo was ninety-nine percent sure he was on the verge of blushing, even though there wasn't a trace of red on his tanned face. "I'm not... really your --"
"I'll go bring you some tea," Mizuki said plainly, as if forcing the offer on him, and the girls knew she had completely ignored Ryou's reasonable request. As she turned to prepare the kettle, however, the boy spoke up.
"Just water," Stopping, the robot girl looked over her shoulder to him, a flicker of uncertainty in her slate-blank eyes. Finally managing to pry most of the gaggle off him, Ryou looked over at her and, realizing he must've sounded rude, quickly added, "If you don't mind."
She was silent. Then, without any further comment, Mizuki pursed her lips and disappeared into the kitchen, lilac hair floating huffily behind her.
Determined for it not to become stale and awkward once more, Lettuce took initiative and wormed free of the 5 others, motioning towards a table. "We... we haven't really had a chance to catch up properly yet, have we? Now that Ichigo-san and Ryou-san are here, we can... ah!" Straightening up quickly, her eyes widened as she realized something. "You two are soaked! You'll catch colds if you don't -- I'll go grab some towels!" Lettuce squeaked, and hurried up the stairs in a mad dash.
Ryou attempted to tell her she didn't have to go (after all, he was technically the host, and here he was being waited on hand and foot), but when it became clear she wouldn't be convinced, he further attempted to tell her where said towels were, before finally sitting down, everyone else following suit.
Now that things were calmed down, Ichigo took the opportunity to fix her hair - or try to - by combing her fingers through the strands, only to encounter stubborn, tough knots. And the look of concentrated frustration on her face was so intense that everyone at that table instantly knew she was having trouble.
"Honestly, Ichigo" Mint chided with a sigh, pulling a brush out of her purse and scooting over behind the girl, "You're still such a mess. I'd have thought you would at least know how to take care of yourself by now."
Ichigo grumbled in protest, yanking her hand out of her hair to try to push the offending brush away, "I do know how to take care of myself, I'm not five, thank you very much, now put that thing awa-- owowowowowowOW!" She yelped in pain and tried to run, only to be shoved back down by Mint and put in a strangle hold.
"Hold--still!" Ryou and Zakuro sweatdropped as the dark haired girl continued ripping the brush through Ichigo's hair, and as she in turn let out whimpers of pain and the occasional howl, along with cries of 'just give me the stupid brush and I'll do it myseelllff!' followed by the plain response of 'oh, you couldn't fight this beast if you tried! I'm trained to do this, a dancer's appearence is as important as her skill!'. It really was a wonder Mizuki didn't seem disturbed at all in her kitchen-work, even if Lettuce did come running to the stairs with wide eyes once or twice before continuing on her search for dry towels.
It took a few minutes, but once Mint had gotten through the worst of it (or Ichigo's skull had simply become numb to the pain), the 'hair victim' stopped flailing and was able to sit relatively still, much to the disappointment of Pudding, who had found joy in cheering for either Ichigo's hair or the brush as if it were a wrestling match. Now she simply sat back on her chair, blowing her bangs out of her eyes absently.
"Mint has a point," The purple-haired model said finally, once things were quiet-ish again. Ichigo looked up at Zakuro strangely. "It was irresponsible of you to run off like that. Whether you were genuinely upset about something or not, you're almost an adult now - you should be able to keep your emotions under control."
Ichigo lowered her gaze to the ground, barely even minding the steady stroke of the hairbrush now. "I... I know... I didn't really think --"
"We know, you've never been much of a thinker, Ichigo. That's the point." Mint ignored the fuming response and simply gave the brush a healthy yank, which shut her up instantly. "Even you, Ryou - you should have asked us to come help you look for her. While you two were off dancing in the rain, we had to suffer through rather irritating suspense, and I'd personally like to avoid that in the future." The blonde raised an eyebrow at her, but Mint simply rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn't possibly understand what had gone on with them out, "Yes, Ichigo may be a painfully ditzy Damsel in Distress, but try to save your Hero card for when you really need it, alright?"
After hesitating for a moment, Ryou smirked. "Fair enough. I figured she hadn't gone too far though, so I didn't think it was worth bothering you all. After all, it was just one of Strawberry's idiotic outbursts..."
Had she not been at the other end of the table, Ichigo would have elbowed him in the ribs.
"Well, for the record, come back more quickly next time. We were worried about you. Plus I doubt getting wet accomplished much..." Zakuro looked with amused disdain at the rough red hair that had caused such a commotion.
"And lord knows what the two of you were doing out there for so long..."
"Mint!"
Before Ichigo could rag on her further, though, Lettuce came hurrying down the stairs with two overly fluffy white towels, setting one generously across Ryou's shoulders and shuffling over to Ichigo to dab her dripping hair and face dry.
"Guys..." Ichigo felt her eye twitch, and sighed, "...I'm not a dog, you know."
"Of course not," Mint said lightly, content with the rhythmic brushing, "Even my Mickey is better groomed than you are. I wouldn't dare compare her well conditioned hair to your rat's nest."
As Ichigo made an angry face and Lettuce reminded Mint 'not to be mean on our first day together again', Pudding was sitting unusually still, staring at her lap.
"Ichigo-oneechan..." The smallest girl started uneasily, looking up at the young adults with big eyes, "...Why did you leave in such a hurry? Did you really not want to be with us at all, na no da?"
She looked almost like a puppy that was being left in a gutter to die.
Ichigo blinked in surprise, and quickly shook her head (which had unfortunate results, considering there was still a brush in it), putting on a sincere and reassuring smile. "No, no, that's not it at all! I just left because... well..." At a loss, she glanced at Ryou for an answer, but he seemed rather caught up in his own train of thought. Frowning inwardly, she turned back to Pudding, "I needed fresh air, there was just a lot on my mind. But I'm not gonna run off like that again, I promise." Her smile widened, "Because when I was out there, I realized how much I wanted to be with all you again. So I am definitely here to stay - for you, for the mission, for everything."
She looked at Ryou again, proud of her little speech, expecting a nod of approval or a smile in return or something - but he was off in his own world, obviously mulling over events passed and events to come. Ichigo scowled at him. Jerk. Then she wondered why she even cared, and turned back to the people who actually mattered.
Clearly pleased with this answer, Pudding beamed, sitting up straight with that silly lopsided grin on her face again. However, the last comment made reminded Mint of something, and, after giving Ichigo's now-smooth hair one last run through, she stashed her brush away again. "Speaking of... Ryou, what exactly does this 'mission' entail?" Ichigo grimaced when somehow Mint managed to snap him out of his daze. He even turned to give her his full attention. What the hell! "Will it be much like the alien situation, where we fight whenever a danger presents itself? Or will we seek out this 'SQUAD' ourselves? And I assume that because we were called under the pretense of re-uniting 'Tokyo Mew Mew', we will be using our transformations as defense?"
Forgetting about her newfound grudge against Ryou's airheadedness, Ichigo marvelled at the strength of Mint's voice. It didn't hold the same snooty, 'higher than you' quality it usually did when the girl spoke to her - instead, it was assertive, meaningful, that of a young woman who was confident in her every move and choice. She supposed it had something to do with being a dancer... it seemed like a fairly aggressive business to begin with. Mint would have had to be very strong and sure of herself to progress this far.
Folding his arms over his chest, Ryou nodded. "I'll admit, there's not much we know about the 'enemy' at this present time, even with Mizuki's data. According to her, they're a very shady and mysterious group, and it's been impossible to track them or predict what it is they hope to accomplish... So for now, we're standing by until a threat presents itself. In the best case scenario, they won't be able to locate Mizuki while she's here, and we won't have to deal with any fighting at all. However... if there is any word or sign of them nearby, we will have to take action. And, yes - I don't think the effects of your fusions will have worn off at all by this point, so we are going to be relying on your transformed states as a weapon. But hopefully we won't need to resort to that."
After drying off Ichigo to a point she felt fit, Lettuce sat down at the table as well, leaning over to peek at the open kitchen door. "But, ah, Ryou-san... Mizuki-san said she was able to fight, didn't she? If she really was designed for military use, wouldn't she, in theory, be able to defend herself without us?"
Ryou took a moment, leaning back against his chair in thought. "Well, yeah, in theory. But realize that the whole reason she is in danger is because a few rebels are seeking to steal or copy or manipulate her programming. Her security system is strong, no doubt, and state of the art, but it's not perfect - one of the reasons the government cancelled the project was because they were unable to guarantee 100 that her data couldn't be accessed by anyone, under any circumstances. It's too risky to put her out on a battlefield like that, alone, when we have no idea what technology or means of weaponry SQUAD has access to."
"I want to see," Leaning forward eagerly, as if intending to pry answers from Ryou's very brain, Pudding grinned, "what kind of things Mizuki-oneechan can do, na no da!"
Before anyone could agree or elaborate, the wonder-machine herself emerged from the kitchen once again, delicately holding a tall glass of water in one hand, an assortment of rags, dusters, and a pail of water in the other.
"Ah, thank you," Ryou said somewhat uneasily as the drink was set before him. Simply nodding, Mizuki set off to a group of unoccupied tables, setting out her cleaning supplies neatly and with precision. Turning back to the girls, the blonde set to continue - "She's told me a few of the basics of her own transformation, but I'm really in the dark about most of it. It makes sense, since that kind of info would be..." - but just as he was about to bring the glass to his lips, his hand jerked and set it abruptly back to the tabletop.
Lettuce gave a start at the sudden move. "What's wrong?" She nearly squeaked, green eyes wide. The boy was staring strangely at the liquid, as if the water contained were foreign or poisoned, and he couldn't seem to fathom why.
"It's hot," he said simply. The girls blinked, and glanced at Mizuki quizzically.
"You were just out in the pouring rain," was her effortless reply, as she dipped a cloth into soapy water and wrung it dry, "If you don't warm up, Shirogane-sama, you're going to become ill." And she immediately began to wipe the table surfaces clean, with careful and effective movements of the hand, her eyes glazed unattentively toward the clockwork task.
At that statement, Ichigo bristled slightly. So, fair enough, Ryou was technically her 'owner', but would it really have killed her to offer some hot water/tea/cocoa to her? After all, she'd been in the storm for just as long, if not longer... And when she turned her head to look at the robot, she could have sworn the other had shot a cold glare from the corner of her slate blue eyes. It sent a shiver up her spine.
After a pause, Ryou took the warm cup back in his hands and took a slow, thoughtful sip, giving his throat a moment to cool before taking another. Everyone else had fallen strangely silent again, and Ichigo, after getting over her offended phase, watched with soft and puzzled eyes.
Being the only one at the table who wasn't too afraid (or occupied) to speak up, Ichigo did so, voice holding no hints of sarcasm or disapproval. "Mizuki, you really don't have to do all that..."
"Last time I checked, you weren't the one in charge of this cafe..." Ryou mumbled in response, resting a fist boredly against his cheek.
Ichigo shot him a look. What happened to the considerate, compassionate guy who had ran after her in the rain and convinced her to stay in Tokyo? He'd gone back into jerk-mode all of a sudden! "Oh, so she's your slave now? And here I thought it was our job to protect her," she hissed in return, and the rest of the girls simply threw each other looks of exasperation.
Clamming up momentarily at that, he pushed his hair from his eyes in frustration and looked to Mizuki once again. "Ichigo's right. We're not re-opening the cafe or anything, so all the work of cleaning would be wasted... Besides, that's not really an expectation --"
"I'm programmed to be useful when my other skills are not required."
The word 'program' made them wince, once again the cold reminder that she was different, that she may look human as the rest of them, but didn't wish to be treated like one; and so Mizuki finished her scrubbing, dusting at the edges of chairs routinely before moving her station right on over to the next table, barely sparing so much as a glance or any other sign of acknowledgement.
Once his glass was half emptied, Ryou stood up, the scrape of his chair interrupting the silence. "Well, I think it's about time we all ate - I don't really have any food here, so I can drive you out to a nearby restaurant. My treat."
Raising an eyebrow over at the one doing all the cleaning, he gave a boyish smirk, "Maybe then Mizuki won't be tempted to do so much work."
Ichigo found herself admiring Ryou's sudden display of genorosity. Treating five girls to dinner? Unlike most of the things the boy did, this didn't have an inkling of selfishness involved at all! As they all walked together into the high class, five star, fine aroma-laden restaurant, the girl couldn't help but see him through new amber eyes - a grown up, a true gentleman, an aura of maturity and self worth...
...of course, as soon as they walked into the door, this all vanished, for she saw who was coming to greet them.
"You cheapskate!" She hissed, turning to smack him on the shoulder. Ryou barely blinked. Ichigo, on the other hand, was practically fuming. "You brought us to his restaurant? He's not gonna make you pay!"
"Well, what did you expect, Strawberry? I'm a starving grad student," he simply shrugged coolly, turning to face the chef who had come rushing out of the kitchen just seconds earlier, "It's not like I'm in a state to take you all out somewhere fancy out of my own pocket. If you don't like it, we could always go grab some ramen... you might have to all share a bowl or two, though."
Ichigo shut up at that, though she didn't look impressed at all anymore.
"Welcome!" Keiichiro greeted as he finally reached them, a bright smile on his tired face, "Ahh, I'm so glad you all came. It's been a very busy evening, but I managed to save you all a table! Just follow me,"
While the red-head of the group did so a bit begrudgingly, the rest matched the cook's enthusiasm, making small talk all the way across the crowded room to where they were going to sit for the evening.
"This is amazing, Keiichiro-san," Lettuce remarked at one point, looking around in awe, "So, you started working here after we left?"
He nodded cheerfully, pulling a chair out for each lady, "Yes. At first, we considered closing the cafe, but because of all the equipment and 'secret base' items that were lying around, we decided it was too risky, staffing it with anyone other than you girls." At that, a look of concern veiled his eyes, "I offered to help find Ryou an apartment in town, or even live with me until he could find a job, but..."
"I'm fine where I am," The boy, who was already seated, said as if he'd already said it a million times before. The brunette hesitated, and then, without any further hint of reluctance, smiled.
"I know. Now," Pulling his attention from that matter, Keiichiro stood tall, looking as gentlemanly as ever, "I haven't brought you all any menus, but I was planning to serve a top secret, brand new dish we are planning to add next month. It's my own creation - that's not a problem, is it?"
The girls were quick to assure him it wasn't, and with that he wished them a good time and headed off to the kitchen again.
"Yeah, 'my treat', I'm sure," grumbled Ichigo, still apparently annoyed by the earlier incident. Mint pinched her leg under the table and she nearly shrieked.
"Sit up, Ichigo, we're in public." Giving a motherly sigh, she folded her hands innocently in her lap and looked with distaste at the clothes the girl beside her was wearing, "And honestly, would it have killed you to change into something more formal? It's a fancy restaurant, for goodness' sake. If you had half the good taste Mizuki has, we wouldn't have to worry about you looking like you'd been dragged from a gutter."
Mizuki seemed slightly unsettled at this. One of the first excuses she had tried out, when the subject of eating out came up, was that she didn't 'eat', and therefore would only be taking up space. When that was shot down, she insisted her attire - which was very maid-like in style - wasn't appropriate for such an occasion. And much to her apparent chagrin, Lettuce was quick to offer up one of the dresses she'd packed , and quickly dug it out of her nearby suitcase for the robot-girl to change into. Now, Mizuki sat between Pudding and Ryou with a simple black dress that had something of a low neckline and long, lacey sleeves. Even though it was far less fancy than the clothes Zakuro had chosen to wear, or even the chinese styled dress Pudding had brought from home, Mizuki appeared to be very uncomfortable, sitting completely rigid and having not said a word on the entire trip here.
Ichigo just groaned. She'd changed into a semi-fancy skirt, what more did they want? "You're so mean," she mumbled, though her mind had apparently been taken off its earlier agitation toward Ryou.
"Mizuki-oneechan!" Pudding suddenly burst, hands hitting the table, as if she'd been holding back for the last half hour, "When will we get to see you transform? Could you show us when we get back, na no da?"
"Pudding, lower your voice..."
"It's an emergency measure," Mizuki said blandly, "and I will transform only when it is needed. Beyond that, it would be unnecessary and a waste of energy. I was not designed to entertain..."
"But, but, what does it look like?" Although she was far from giving up, the short girl talked more quietly, though with equal force and eagerness, as she practically leaned over Mizuki, "Will you get bunny ears, na no da? Or a cat tail? Or bear feet? Or otter skin? Or --"
Impatient, she closed her eyes, tone laced with bitterness. "Animal 'features' are unnecessary and inconvenient. It is from the ability that power comes from, and my abilities are far more advanced than anything the likes of you are capable of."
Pudding stared at her with big eyes before slowly sitting back down, staring down at the floor like a little kid who'd just been slapped. Snapping out of her grumpy daze, Ichigo quickly noticed how uncomfortable everyone suddenly seemed, and piped in within seconds.
"Come on, let's get our minds off all of this!" All of them, Ryou included, looked at her a little strangely, but Ichigo didn't notice, "Look, I know all this 'mission' stuff is important, but... well, can't we leave that for later? I dunno about you guys, but I really want to catch up! It's been five years since we've been together, and now all anyone can say is transformation this, SQUAD that, mission mission mission! In case you haven't noticed, no one's attacking us right now, so can't we just enjoy an evening out like 'normal' people would?"
The word 'normal' seemed to be a cue on which everyone (save Mizuki, who remained distanced) relaxed, smiled, even - because, in the end, this whole thing was anything but normal. After all, here they were again, about to 'save the world' from yet another trecherous threat, and that's not something normal people would do on a Wednesday! At the same time, though, Ichigo was absolutely right, and they all knew it. Normal people came to restaurants. Normal people sat at tables together. And normal people talked about things normal people talked about - so why couldn't they?
Seeing that the level of comfort had suddenly fixed itself, Ichigo beamed. "So, has anyone else here had any ice cream from Italy? It is sooo good! I can't believe we don't have anything like that here...!"
And from there, conversation came naturally, alongside the dishes of scrumptious food that were brought to their tables. When the excited ice-cream-related chatter died down, Pudding revved it on back up when she began babbling on about her and her siblings' 'misadventures' in China. Mint later added on by describing one of her most memorable dance performances, getting a dreamy look in her eye at just the mention of it - which lead to Zakuro giving mention to all the celebrities she'd encountered while on her model run. Even Lettuce put in her share - though over-modestly, as usual - by telling them about all the hard work she'd committed to in order to get into the school she wanted. Ryou, though he did nothing nearly so exciting or groundbreaking, also pitched in with his own amusing little stories, one of which involved a case of mistaken identity in a grocery store.
Between bites, there were fits of laughter, compliments, questions, innocent remarks and strange ones, withheld giggles and mortified stares, interruptions, side stories, playful insults and flustered faces, suggestions and agreements and reminiscing all around, and things were just as they once had been again, just as they should be. Smiles and lit up eyes decorated almost every face at that table, and there was no moment of silence, comfortable or otherwise - it was as if each had a lifetime of stories to share, and each in turn had a lifetime of curiousity to fill. They chatted off well into the night, barely having a spare moment to scarf down their delicious meals, exchanging exciting conversation, from trivial matters to potentially life changing events, all level of emotion and volume and tone being tossed about like a hot potato.
And Mizuki sat through it all without batting an eye.
Either no one noticed, or no one was willing to give up the fun to let the 'awkwardness' settle in - and by the time they had finally finished their food and it was time to leave, all the girls, and even Ryou, had radiant smiles on their faces, refreshed and exhausted all at once.
Keiichiro popped out to see them off, and by the time they were all in the parking lot again, the exuberance had died down - but only slightly. Ichigo, apparently unaware of the consequences, took advantage of this to acknowledge someone who had gone unnoticed.
"You haven't really said much, Mizuki," she remarked, not noticing the suddenly-rigid stances the others took, "What about you? Didn't you experience anything interesting before you came here?"
"Ano, Ichigo-san, I don't really think..." But Lettuce's voice quickly died down and she reddened, realizing how rude it would have seemed coming from her own mouth.
Mizuki didn't care. Her eyes simply flickered in recognition. "Nothing like what you have all been speaking about," she replied shortly, and left it at that.
Clearly, Ichigo expected an elaboration - for whatever reason, considering how it had to be obvious by now that the robot girl was not one much for talking. And when she didn't get one, the redhead frowned slightly, shuffling over so she could walk and see Mizuki more clearly.
"There has to be something. Didn't you say you spent time in training rooms? What kind of tasks did they have you perform? Was it hard? Did you learn a lot? What sort of people were in charge of those things?" Seeing she was getting no response, verbal or otherwise, Ichigo persisted, though with a patient smile on her face, "You're not in a government owned laboratory anymore, you know. We don't need you to act all formal and 'top-secret' around us - you can be yourself!"
That got a reaction. Stopping dead in her tracks, it almost seemed as if Mizuki's artificial complexion paled, her eyes widening the slightest bit to show a tiny speck of horror in her darkly-lit irises. Ichigo also paused, blinking in confusion, while the others simply slowed their walk at a comfortable distance.
For several moments, nothing was said. And then, in a hushed, almost shaking, voice, Mizuki spoke up - "How can you say that to me?"
It was as if she'd been offended, insulted in the most crude way possible, humiliated, shaken and beaten to expose every weakness and flaw to the prying eyes of the world.
It was as if she was afraid.
But Ichigo only smiled, totally unaffected by this display. Ryou - though he kept with the rest of the group - leaned over an inch or so to watch the situation more carefully. He couldn't tell whether the redhead was simply painfully oblivious, or... if that was just the way Ichigo was. Was, and always had been.
"You can be yourself," she repeated gently, at the very least considerate of Mizuki's painful shock, "You're not our servant, and we're not your masters. You act like if you relax the littlest bit, we'll get angry and disown you, but we won't! We're here to protect you, but we want to see what's underneath that guarded exterior. We want to see Mizuki's real personality --"
"I do not have a 'personality'," the robot finally found her voice, stoic expression comfortably sliding back over her face, "You know what I am --"
"You're not like us, we know that!" Ichigo interrupted, waving her hand in motion to the others, "So what? In some ways, I'm not like them either. I'm clumsy, and awkward, and I constantly fall asleep in public. I'm not sophisticated like Mint, or selfless like Lettuce, or as eccentric as Pudding, or as strong-spirited as Zakuro! I'm not even as brilliant and hard headed as Shirogane!"
"Oi..." The blonde growled in response to that comment, but was flat out ignored.
"Everyone here is a tiny bit different than the person beside them, and not always in a good way! It's like that all around the world. Every person has their own little differences that set them apart," a soft smile appeared on her face, a glow in her eye, "Without them, we'd all be lost. We know that you're a 'machine', Mizuki, but you're a 'someone', too! When you brought Shirogane that glass of hot water..." Pausing, Ichigo tried to demonstrate holding a beverage, as the one being imitated watched with a mix of awe and bewilderment, "...that's because you cared about what happened to him. Fridges and computers can't 'care' like that. They're just 'things'. Even if you have circuits instead of blood and a program instead of a heart, you still have your own thoughts and feelings, don't you?"
Mizuki's lips moved, slightly, as if she were prepared to answer. But she stopped herself. She fixed her gaze on Ichigo, and, although it was intense, and smothering, the undettered cat girl bravely went on.
"That's why we want to get to know you better. We - all of us - want to know the kind of person Mizuki is. You're wrong, what you said before... You're not just a 'what', Mizuki, you're a 'who'. Just like us. We already know what you are - now we want to know who you are. But you have to let us at least try to figure it out."
Having to inhale a little after that speech, Ichigo rubbed the back of her head, glancing up at Mizuki a bit timidly. And the one in question stared back with glazed eyes - but Ichigo couldn't help but notice there was something different about them.
Something more... open.
But since she didn't say anything, Ichigo figured it must have mostly been her imagination. Only mostly, though. "So, if you don't want to share your stories with us right now, that's alright. But I'd like to hear them someday, okay? I really, really would."
With that, Ichigo flashed a smile at the formally-clad, violet haired 'girl', and turned back to the rest of the group. "C'mon, let's get going! I could really use," she had to stop midsentence to give a feline-like yawn, "some sleep right about now. Plus it's getting dark..."
"Strawberry's right," Though he was feeling a bit tight-chested from the conversation they'd all just witnessed, Ryou opted to take control again, "We need to get the rooming arrangements sorted out before anything else can go on. So, hurry up."
He started walking and, like sheep, the rest followed. Mizuki, too, even if she chose to lag silently behind.
"Ichigo-oneechan, I had no idea you were so inspirational, na no da! Did you read all that in a manga or something?"
"Ahh, thank you Pudding! No, I actually just thought of it all, right --"
"Really, Ichigo, you have no class! That has got to be the cheesiest thing I've ever heard... at least put some originality into it, you crude girl..."
"Wah! Sh-shut up, Mint, you don't have to be so mean--!"
"Um, um, um... the food was good, wasn't it? Akasaka-san really is talented...!"
"I'll miss his cooking. It'll be very odd not having him at the cafe all the time."
"Oneesama, can we please move away from this trivial subject? Ichigo is attracting stares of disapproval and putting us all to shame!"
"I am not!"
And they were all laughing again, giggling and teasing and arguing playfully, just like before. There was that sort of happiness lingering in the air, one that couldn't be described, but could certainly be felt... one that they all had carried in their memories for all the years apart. And yet, despite those years, it was almost as if nothing had changed and no time had passed at all. Everything was... right.
Even while the 'outcast' followed behind on the way to the car, keeping a distance and not making a sound, that happiness could not go unnoticed or unfelt - and even though no one was there to see, or be surprised by it, or wonder what had brought it about, Mizuki's thin lips curled into a tiny, soft smile.
Trudging back up the narrow flight of stairs, she wiped the blood from her hands, more as a force of habit than a precaution of any kind. The entire building was silent, lifeless, save for a few impatient stomps on the floor above, the climp-clomp of her own boots, and an irritating dripping sound from the utility room - it seemed almost a prison, where every breath was oppressed, every twitch was restrained, and every movement, no matter how subtle, was faced with the endless amount of empty dead space.
The girl - short, with alert posture but relaxed eyes - poked her head around the corner lazily, catching the eyes of the other two in the otherwise empty room.
"They took her."
The taller of the two snorted, throwing something metal to the ground in frustration. Bam clatta shh. Unfazed, the small girl simply pulled herself through the doorway, carelessly inspecting the overturned surroundings of the room.
"I wondered why the security was so half-assed..." His shoe scuffed the hard floor as he kicked the gun - unloaded and unused - he'd been examining before, "This place is just a god-forsaken empty box. Wrapped up all nice with ribbons and shiny paper, but not a damn thing inside..."
The second boy, small, but not quite as tiny as the girl, sidestepped a corpse in order to approach the others, "Figures. They musta known we were coming... shipped her off to the other end of the country."
Pacing around the room in a display of anger, the tall, tanned man found no guilt in pushing equipment off tables, letting screens smash and papers scatter, shoving anything and everything loudly out of his way. "If it hadn't taken you so damn long--"
"Enough." Her indifferent gaze morphed to a glare, irritation sparking off in her bright red eyes, "You're wasting time." This invoked a short period of silence, which she took advantage of to scan every surface, every space, searching for any answer or hint or direction which they could follow... "Where the hell are they hiding her?"
Grunting, the littler boy only folded his arms across his chest, staring at the bloodied walls in annoyance. Though his furious destruction of furniture had been quelled, the darker skinned one continued to stalk around the lab, dragging his hand along desks and drawers, trampling over broken objects and useless papers...
...only to have his foot catch on one in particular, a file, torn open by his boot, no different from the others, perfectly placed for venting rage - but two words caught his eye, a name, more precisely, and he stopped. Pausing where he was, bent over to retrieve the piece of paper, surprisingly delicately for someone who had spent the last thirty-so minutes exerting tremendous energy and force.
Her ears perked at the sound. "What is it?"
While his eyes lingered on the text of the document, something flashed across his face: triumphant glee. "Our girl hasn't gotten too far, after all. If she's not here, with this one 'creator'," A grin blossomed on his face, revealing sharp teeth spattered with red,
"Perhaps that means we should pay a visit to the other one."
saving data... closing applications... shut down.