. Decimus .

The outer door to my office was cheap wood, with a frosted glass window and gilt letters reading 'Retasu Midorikawa, Private Investigator.' It was near the end of a long, dingy hallway. I wished the window was a little easier to see through, but I'd gotten frosted glass myself, for the sake of privacy. Who knew I'd be regretting it? At least there weren't any loud noises from within, like Joe screaming for mercy or guns firing. On the other hand, the silence could be just as ominous.

"We should call for backup," Ryou muttered as we crept up the hallway.

I nodded. "You go ahead. I doubt the response will be prompt, but worth doing."

"You can't be thinking of apprehending Ichigo on your own, can you?" hissed Ryou with a narrow-eyed glare. "She used her powers to kill Aoyama-san. What's going to stop her from doing the same to you?"

I dipped my hand into my purse, pulling out a tarnished golden pendant on a fraying choker and fastening it around my neck, beneath the collar of my shirt. It felt warm resting in the hollow of my throat. "I've still got a few tricks of my own," I told him, rummaging some more to find a pair of equally innocuous items. "Backup is probably a good idea, though."

We had made it to the door. I paused in front of it, taking a deep breath; then, without further ado, launched a kick at the flimsy wood, near the equally flimsy lock.

It flew open. Joe-kun sat at the reception desk with his feet up; standing a yard away was a small, slender woman, girlishness belying her true age, with fashionably bright clothes and brilliantly red hair. I didn't bother with pleasantries, brandishing the pair of castanets I had just taken out of my purse. "Lettuce rush!" I shouted, feeling the pendant flare.

Brilliant green light swept out in front of me, scattering papers and prompting cries of pain and outrage from both of the room's occupants, but I didn't stand around watching. I dove for the desk, wrenched open the drawer, and within seconds was pressing the barrel of the six-shooter I keep around for emergencies against Ichigo's temple.

"Momomiya Ichigo, you're under arrest for the murder of Aoyama Masaya."

For a second there was stunned silence. Joe was crouching in a corner, eyes big; Ichigo was kneeling on the floor, perfectly still. Only a second, though; then my former teammate began to laugh.

"Lettuce-chan," she managed. "Lettuce-chan, you really are too much. You think I could kill Aoyama-kun?"

"Do you deny you fled Japan?"

"No, I was coming to you for help!" Ichigo exclaimed.

For a second I almost faltered. In stark rejection of logic, I wanted nothing more than to put away the gun, give her a hug, and promise all the help I could offer. I forced myself to remember Masaya's bloated corpse and mastered the impulse.

"Do you deny you were at Mint's mansion at the time of his death, and not present at the gathering that had assembled to hear Mint's speech?"

"No, but-"

"Do you deny that you, like myself, are still capable of using the powers you gained as a result of the Mew Project?"

"No," Ichigo murmured. "No. That's why I couldn't kill him, don't you understand?"

"I don't," I told her sharply. "You've got until the police show up to explain yourself, Momomiya, so start talking."

"It's different for you, you got out of it!" she exclaimed suddenly, her face reddening. "I couldn't. Millions of people, always thinking of me as Mew Ichigo, the heroine of a shojo story! It gets into your head, Lettuce-chan! It gets into everything. You have to be the person they expect you to be. You're trapped. I'm trapped! I can't do anything out of character - Lettuce-chan, I'm still biologically sixteen! I should be thirty by now!" Her hands clenched, nails leaving light scrapes on the woodwork.

"I don't know why it is, but I'm stuck in a story. It's bigger than me. It's bigger than any of us. And… I couldn't kill Masaya even if I wanted to. I love him!"

Her voice died, laughter turning into a sob. Again, pity stirred within me, but I didn't dare give in to it, or allow the gun against her head to waver. "So what did he do? Cheat on you?"

"You still don't get it," said Ichigo quietly, staring at the grimy floor of my office. "It isn't that kind of story. I love Masaya, whatever I want. So I would never hurt him. I could never hurt him."

I thought maybe I did get it, just a little. A part of me had always known I had to get away, far away, from Ichigo if I ever wanted to stop being mild-mannered and apologetic, to star in my own story. But the idea of being trapped in a narrative role… "That's not going to fly in court," I growled. "So who was it? Zakuro? She knew about the Deep Blue Initiative."

"No, not Zakuro-chan," said Ichigo, flustered. "And it wasn't the Initiative – not really. Masaya-kun…"

She stopped, and I frowned, wondering what she was holding back; but it hadn't been to irk me that she had paused. She was staring at the office door. I slowly followed her gaze; the battered door hung partway open, and just past it stood a tall boy with soft, dark hair; one with whom I was more than passing familiar.

"Ichigo…" Aoyama Masaya murmured, then shifted his gaze to me, along with the pistol he held in one hand. "Lettuce-san. I knew involving you was a bad idea. Please – drop the gun."

Author's Note: And now we see why I wanted to keep the canon backstory. Also, I like this cliffhanger. I may let it sit here a few days.