Ichigo was beginning to learn how to navigate the halls of the compound. She strode down the hallway of white, and ran her fingers through the red willow tree as she passed underneath, as she always did. She hardly passed anyone as she walked. After all, it was still pretty early in the morning, and Ichigo was still on the residential side of the facilities.
Last night, the head chef Torin had invited her to pick up a gift the next day, as a thank you for her friendship and their help with the date the night before. Ichigo had awoken with the happy memories of her adventure, and an empty stomach growling angrily. She had shrugged on some of her normal, human clothes – a pair of grey leggings and a loose-fitting white shirt, before making her way down the winding halls of white to pick up her spoils from the food hall.
Ichigo knew Ira, Quiche and Tart would all be angry to find her wandering around alone again, but it felt freeing for her to navigate the compound by herself. It made her feel less stifled, less like a bird in a gilded cage. The events of the night before had helped her regain her confidence after the disastrous council meeting. Her anger with the council was calmer now, a slow simmer instead of a screaming kettle. She only hoped that whatever the three boys had said to the Emperor was enough for the mews to patch up their relationship with the alien court.
Ichigo only made two wrong turns before finding her way to the open-air recreational center of the compound. High ceilings and plentiful glass along the walls flooded the area with light. The space was sparsely occupied with a few groups of early-risers clustered on the lounge seating that sat in the middle. Ichigo could smell something like fresh-baked bread, the scent wafting from the kitchen adjacent to the food hall. She sniffed the air hungrily and made her way around the edge of the compound center, ignoring the eyes on her as the people around her began to notice she was there, without a cloak or a disguise.
She focused her attention to the space off to her left, where large, glass-covered rooms housed what appeared to be gym equipment and weapons. She vaguely remembered passing by this space the night before. The rooms were mostly empty, discarded equipment laying on the floor and strewn across benches.
She passed another white wall dividing the rooms, but slowed her walk when she heard something familiar.
"What the hell was that?!"
"You're out of practice! Again!"
Clang.
"Shit, are you trying to take my arm off?"
"Defend better, and you can keep your arm!"
Ichigo took two steps backwards. She peered down a wide hallway with a row of smaller glass rooms. They were all empty, save for one towards the center. Two figures were whirling around each other, swinging with ferocity and striking metal against metal as they sparred.
Ichigo recognized a lithe, thin body and dark emerald hair. She had been right – it was Quiche's voice she'd heard, but those weren't his weapons. Instead, he was sparring with what looked like long blades, strapped to his forearms like his other, wood weapons Ichigo was used to seeing him use in battles.
She blinked curiously and wondered if she should linger. Glancing towards the kitchen, she bit the inside of her cheek and worked up the nerve to venture down the hall. Just to watch for a minute, she told herself.
As she drew closer, she realized she recognized the figure Quiche was training with. It was Kade, the commander she'd spoken with in the hangar when the mews first arrived on Earth. Her curiosity piqued further, Ichigo found a low bench on the opposite wall, just to the left of the rooms and sat. She propped her chin on one knee. She was far enough away in the wide hall to hopefully go unnoticed.
Though, she felt a bit like a creep – after all, both Quiche and Kade were shirtless, and totally unaware she was there. Ichigo brushed the thought away quickly and chose to study Quiche's new weapons instead.
They were just like his old weapons – tonfas, Ichigo remembered, similar to something used in martial arts – running up the length of his forearms and gripped in his hands. But these weapons were swords, catching the lights overhead in glinting steel. He moved almost identically to how Ichigo had seen him battle with the tonfas, ducking and swinging fluidly as if his whole body was a weapon. Kade, despite appearing twice Quiche's age, was a worthy opponent – handily blocking and returning swings with a thin, light-looking sword in one hand.
The whole thing looked incredibly dangerous. Ichigo caught herself gasping and flinching whenever one of them came close to hitting each other. But they both seemed to have incredible control over their weapons, stopping short of contact at the last moment whenever a swing was about to hit. Her eyes darted between the two combatants as they flew up into the air, toying with different angles as Quiche dipped higher, then lower to try to get an angle on Kade.
Kade was incredibly fast, diving and rising with Quiche's blows in a fraction of a second. Ichigo watched them rise higher and higher in the room – then, Kade swung sideways at Quiche at an awkward angle. Quiche didn't move to dodge. Ichigo gasped, her hands flying to her face.
Kade's blade stopped just shy of the side of Quiche's face. They froze, hanging in the air ten meters off the ground before Kade dropped his sword to his side.
"Like I said, out of practice," Ichigo heard Kade say. Kade waved the sword in the air once, and it disappeared in his hand. "Your mind is obviously somewhere else. Let's reconvene tonight – I'll send for you." He paused, dusting his hands on each other. "Besides, you have an audience."
Ichigo stiffened as Kade's eyes met hers. She dropped her hands from her face and grimaced sheepishly. Quiche turned, brow furrowed, and blinked in surprise when he saw Ichigo. He quickly masked his owlish expression with a grin, and gave a short bow to Kade before both of them lowered back down to the ground.
"His form is awful, is it not?" Kade called out to Ichigo as their feet touched ground again. He raised one brow and picked up a towel from a bench just inside the room.
Quiche scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Geez, lay off for a minute, will you, Kade?" he groaned. He wiped his brow with the back of one arm and strode towards Ichigo.
Ichigo scrambled to think of an excuse for why she was watching them. She found it hard to think when she was watching Quiche approach, slick with sweat and without a shirt. She swallowed hard and tried not to let her eyes roam as she stammered: "I–uh, I'm sorry – I didn't mean to like, spy on you or anything."
Quiche's lips stretched into his signature smirk. He swung his forearms forward, and the silver blades disappeared from his grip.
"Really?" he said. "Because if last night tells me anything, it's that you love spying."
Ichigo crinkled her nose in annoyance. "I do not!" she insisted. Quiche took a seat next to her on the low bench, leaning his arms on his knees and watching Ichigo's reaction with an amused look. Ichigo fought to ignore their closeness; the lack of clothes and the smell of metal mingled with sweat. The last time they'd been this close, things had gotten out of hand.
Somehow, Ichigo had the feeling Quiche was thinking the same thing.
Ichigo rushed to find a topic of conversation. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "You got new weapons? What happened to your other ones?"
Quiche's eyes lingered on her for a moment more, as if he was in the middle of an interrupted thought.
After a few beats, he finally tore his eyes from her and leaned his head back against the wall behind them.
"Nothing's wrong with them; I just got good enough to upgrade," he said, staring up at the ceiling. He tilted his head to glance over at Ichigo sidelong. "But, as you probably saw, I'm still awful with swords. I had these ones made in early spring, so I've only practiced with them for a couple months."
Quiche pushed back from the wall lazily and stretched one arm out in front of him. The air around his arm grew distorted for a half-second before one of the silvery, glimmering swords appeared strapped to his forearm. He tilted it slightly in the light.
Ichigo spied subtle, intricate designs sweeping over the shining surface of the weapon. Similar to the dagger Quiche had shown her before, the blade was covered in an intricate design of winding, thorny botanicals in subtle, expertly-hewn detail. Only, when Quiche tilted the blade down and the design was most visible to Ichigo, she saw that it wasn't a dragon woven between the tangle of thorny roses, like his dagger.
Instead, it was a cat.
Extended as if mid-leap, the beautifully-rendered feline stretched along the curve of the blade, its tail curling around one of the roses on the design. It was the picture of elegance, the design carefully made to complement the exact shape of the wide surface of the sword.
Ichigo's eyes flew to Quiche.
"You … this is …" she murmured, speechless. She kept glancing between the blade and Quiche's amused look. He drew the blade back in to himself, studying the design while he waited for Ichigo to collect herself.
Ichigo momentarily disregarded how close they were as she reached over to tilt Quiche's arm to the side. His skin was hot and slick as she moved his arm to where she could see the design on the blade better in the light. It was undeniably beautiful.
Suddenly, she remembered something Quiche said just a minute ago. "Wait," she started, still transfixed on the weapon, "you said you had this made … when?"
Quiche let out a breath of amusement, his lips curling up a little higher. "Spring," he answered simply. Ichigo froze.
Before everything.
Before the aliens' return to Earth. He had this weapon made before he even knew they had a shot at rekindling their spark. Even then, he had chosen to embellish his new weapons with the image of a cat. The thought of it shocked Ichigo into a frozen silence. If he made the decision to design his weapons with a cat before he even knew they had a chance – what did it mean for how he felt about her now?
Quiche glanced up at Ichigo. Their eyes met, and Ichigo realized that they were agonizingly close – their faces mere inches away.
"Hey, Quiche!"
Kade's voice sliced through the tension like an arrow. Ichigo lurched back in surprise as Quiche looked up at Kade. She suddenly felt embarrassed to have an audience.
"I trust you're not busy past sundown?" Kade asked. He raised an eyebrow, glancing ever so subtlety towards Ichigo. She didn't miss the implication.
"No," Quiche said curtly. "Not busy. That's fine by me."
Kade nodded and swung a towel over his shoulders. "Good. I'll be seeing you later." He nodded to Ichigo once. "Nice to see you again, Mew Ichigo."
Ichigo nodded politely to Kade. The older man turned and started down the hall, smirking as if he held a secret. Ichigo noted that he always looked like he knew something she didn't. She had almost forgotten how careful she had to be when she was around Quiche, in order to avoid sparking too much royal gossip.
Ichigo pushed off from the low bench and stood, stretching her arms above her head. She folded them behind her back and took two steps backwards, purposefully putting distance between her and Quiche. "I should get going," she said. She forced a yawn to appear bored, nonchalant.
Quiche didn't appear to buy it. He raised one brow and glanced down the hall. "Did you come here just to spy on me, kitten?" he asked, appearing amused. Before Ichigo could shoot back with a retort, he added: "Where's Ira?"
"I-it's just me," Ichigo admitted. She bit the inside of her cheek and averted her eyes. "I hate being stuck in that room all the time. The chef, Torin, invited me to come down to the kitchen and pick up a gift for breakfast today, so I came by myself."
Quiche didn't reply. He silently rose from his spot on the bench and picked up a towel from a small stack to the right. Ichigo kept her gaze fixed on the hallway and away from Quiche's judgement.
Suddenly, she flinched as she felt his fingers under her chin. Quiche turned her head towards him so that their eyes met.
"Promise me you won't go out alone again," Quiche demanded, eyes narrowed.
Ichigo felt the grip of fear crawl up her spine. It wasn't fear of him – no, it was fear of the sudden seriousness in Quiche's tone. He tilted his head to one side as he studied her. "If you need to go somewhere, just ask me and I'll walk with you. As they say, 'curiosity killed the cat.'"
"I'll be fine on my own," Ichigo said stubbornly. She stared back at Quiche, holding his gaze confidently, unwaveringly. The buzzing tension, the heavy air between them began to collect in the space around them once more.
Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.
Ichigo turned and ripped her chin out of his grip. Whatever he was warning her about, she had yet to understand it. She knew she could defend herself just fine. Why was he so paranoid, anyway?
Ichigo started back down the hall, calling over her shoulder: "I'll talk to you later."
"Not so fast, kitten. I'm walking you back," Quiche asserted. He matched Ichigo's stride, placing one hand on the small of her back.
Ichigo begrudgingly crossed her arms and glared up at him. She fought to ignore the little fire that spread through her stomach at his touch. "Fine, whatever. I'm still stopping by the kitchen."
"Fine by me," Quiche replied with a grin. "You can split whatever it is Torin's cooked up for you as a 'thank you' for my services."
"Services as what?!"
"Your own personal bodyguard, of course."
"Well you can forget it! If you want special treatment from the kitchen, you'd better make your own deal with the chef!"
Quiche let out a short laugh. Ichigo scrunched her nose and scowled up at him as they walked. "I'm serious!" she insisted. "You didn't even help last night! In fact, you almost blew the whole operation!"
"That's an exaggeration," Quiche countered, raising one brow. The smirk was back. "After all, you should be lucky it was Tart and I who found you, before you were found out by one of the other residents."
Ichigo crossed her arms as she walked. "No one would have found us!"
"I found you."
"You spent practically your entire time on Earth stalking me!"
"I resent that!"
"It's true! I couldn't even go on a date without you somehow showing up to terrorize my boyfriend!"
"And that relationship ended up going swimmingly, now didn't it? All's well that ends well?"
"Shut up!"
Ichigo paused, one accusing finger still pointed up at Quiche, and realized they were practically yelling at each other. More than one group of people in the compound center were staring at them.
So much for keeping a low profile when they were together.
Ichigo cleared her throat and took a wide step ahead of Quiche, so that his hand fell off of her back. She could feel his eyes still fixed on her as she rounded the corner and into the kitchen.
The air in the cramped, busy space was sweet and thick with the smell of yeast and sugar. A half dozen cooks were busy chatting with each other, laughing and assembling what smelled like fruit tarts and cake. Ichigo recognized a few of them from the night before. She hadn't made it more than a few steps into the busy kitchen before a loud voice echoed down the narrow space in heavily-accented Japanese: "Hey, Ichigo! You're here bright and early!"
A smile split across Ichigo's face as the chef, Torin, made his way towards her, grinning and wiping off his hands with a tea towel. He swung it over his shoulder and crossed his arms. "And you brought reinforcements!" he added. His gaze shifted to the space over Ichigo's shoulder. "What happened to your shirt, Quiche?"
A hand curled around Ichigo's waist. She heard Quiche snicker at her side. "Ichigo interrupted my combat training with Kade," he offered.
"What? I didn't interrupt anything!" Ichigo argued. She glared up at Quiche. "Kade said you were done anyway! Besides, where is your shirt?!"
Quiche grinned down at her as Torin laughed. "You two make quite the pair," Torin remarked. He ran a hand through his short blonde hair, a broad smile stretched over his features. He jerked his head towards Quiche. "I've known this kid since he was as tall as my knee, and already learning how to steal biscuits from the kitchen between his lessons. He's always had a knack for getting into trouble. Always sticking his nose into something he shouldn't." He grinned at Ichigo. "Something you two share, it seems."
Quiche let out a "hm" of amusement and drummed his fingers on Ichigo's waist. Ichigo straightened her back, her reply catching in her throat.
"Speaking of which, thanks for covering for the girls last night," Quiche said.
"Any time," Torin said with a nod. "I was a bit surprised to make their acquaintance, but of course I'm always glad to make new friends around here."
He paused, back straightening. "Speaking of which, before I forget — I have your gift as promised, Ichigo! Let me go grab it real quick. I'll throw in a few extras for your sweetheart."
Torin turned and pulled the tea towel from his shoulder as Ichigo sputtered: "He's not—!" But Torin was already striding down the length of the kitchen. Ichigo glared up at Quiche, who was grinning down at her in amusement. Her eyes flicked briefly to his arm still around her waist.
"You're a pest," Ichigo muttered, crossing her arms. "We can't just have the whole compound thinking we're together."
"Why not?" Quiche countered. His lips stretched into a grin as his fingers resumed their drumming on Ichigo's waist.
"Because we're—"
Ichigo stopped herself mid-sentence. There it was again. The question that hung between them, the strange middle ground they were in that Ichigo had been avoiding addressing.
The carving of the cats on his swords. The subtle looks. The way she felt when he touched her. Something powerful stirred in Ichigo whenever she thought of what would happen if she simply allowed them to be everything Quiche wanted them to be. But, with everything that had happened over the past few days — the arguing with Orion and the council, the meeting with the Emperor, her conversation with Tart about the gossip in the court — Ichigo knew the smart thing would be to keep her distance.
Besides, she didn't know if she was ready to confront her own complicated feelings. At least, not yet.
They weren't "good friends", like she had told Orion at the party. But she could pretend they were.
Ichigo pushed the mess of emotions to the furthest corner of her mind.
"... because we're in enough trouble as it is," she muttered, breaking away from Quiche's stare. She uncrossed and re-crossed her arms, feeling Quiche looking at her still.
The sounds of the busy kitchen danced around them – the clang of pots and pans, the chatter between the staff, all in Loq. A hungry lick of fire flared from a stovetop and was quickly quelled as one of the cooks tossed something in a pan that smelled like burnt sugar. Quiche – uncharacteristically – said nothing as Ichigo kept her eyes focused on the whirling activity ahead of her.
He was thinking. And Ichigo had a feeling that wasn't good.
Finally, Ichigo spied Torin approaching them from around the bend leading to the kitchen pantry. Quiche dropped his hand from Ichigo's waist as Torin drew closer. The feeling of his fingers slipping from her side caused Ichigo no small amount of surprise.
Was he listening to her?
"As promised…" Torin announced proudly, extending a large, brown paper box to Ichigo, "A dozen strawberry cream cakes, with a couple extras thrown in for good measure." Ichigo didn't miss the subtle wink up at Quiche as Ichigo took the box from him. She pretended she hadn't seen it.
Curious, she opened the lid of the box. The cakes were perfection – golden brown in color, with layers of fluffy white cream sandwiched between round, spongy layers. Each cake was decorated with a spiral of dark, almost purple strawberry slices. The aroma was the perfect blend of sugary cream and tart fruit.
Ichigo smiled as she shut the lid. "They look incredible!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"
Torin nodded, placing his hands on his hips. "My pleasure!" he replied. "Come back any time, and I'd be happy to whip up whatever your little heart dreams of. In exchange, I'd love to pick your brain about the cuisine on Earth sometime."
Ichigo nodded, a grin stretching across her face. "Deal!" She gave a short bow to Torin and received one in return. "Thank you again!" Ichigo said cheerfully.
Nodding, Torin's eyes fell to Quiche, who was still standing off to her left. "Always good to see you, too, kid. Try not to get into too much trouble while you're here."
"Unfortunately, that's not a promise I can keep," Quiche replied coolly. Ichigo didn't have to look up at him to hear the smirk in his smooth, sly voice.
Torin let out a full-throated laugh. "Of course not," he replied. "Well, have fun, you two!"
Ichigo nodded and waved before turning and heading back out into the open air of the compound center. She shifted the brown box in her arms so that she could lift its lid for another peek inside. Her nose was once again greeted with the aroma of fruit and cream.
"Making more friends, are we?" Quiche remarked off to her side as they walked towards the other side of the common area. "Torin seems to like you quite a bit."
Ichigo shut the lid of the box. "Well, he's one, I guess," she muttered. "Can't say I've charmed everyone around here, judging by what happened in the meeting yesterday."
Ichigo suddenly remembered: she hadn't yet gotten the opportunity to talk about why Quiche was hiding the truth about Deep Blue's power. As soon as she remembered, Ichigo gasped and looked up at Quiche. "That reminds me," she said in a hurried whisper, "we need to talk. About the meeting."
A vague look of distaste passed over Quiche's features. He clicked his tongue and glanced around, surveying the other occupants briefly. "Really, kitten? Do we have to?" he sighed.
"Look, I'd rather forget about the whole thing too," Ichigo huffed, "but it would've been nice if you gave me a heads up about the chimera thing."
Quiche's eyes found hers again, quicker this time, and a flash of understanding crossed his face. "Ah. That," he said. He cleared his throat lightly, and his voice dropped to a near-whisper. "We'll talk, just not here. Need somewhere quieter."
He straightened his back and drew a long breath. "...and while we're at it, maybe you can make good on your promise to split those cakes with me."
"I'm not splitting anything!" Ichigo whined, her voice returning to a normal volume. Secretly, she was relieved to be able to talk to Quiche about the secret. But, she still wasn't keen on splitting her precious spoils from the kitchen. She stuck her tongue out at Quiche. "Get your own!"
Quiche ignored her, peering over at the box and flipping the lid open with one hand. Ichigo yelped and slammed it closed.
"Hey, what did I—!"
Suddenly, Ichigo was sent flying forward, a blunt object colliding with her left shoulder. She gasped, the box of cakes falling out of her grasp as she stumbled. Something boiling hot was tumbling down her left side. She saw Quiche grab the box out of the air and turn with a fierce scowl on his face.
"Oh my! How silly of me — I'm so sorry about that," a voice crooned. Ichigo righted herself and whirled around to face a girl with perfect auburn hair and a near-empty mug of tea dangling from one finger.
Aria. The girl from the welcoming party.
Ichigo thought she had imagined how beautiful she was when replaying the memory of their last confrontation in her head, but she realized now that the thin, porcelain-skinned girl was just as striking as she had remembered her. Aria's bright green eyes left Ichigo and fell to Quiche, who was still standing a short distance behind Ichigo. Her lips curled into a coy smile.
"Funny running into you here, Quiche," she said. The way she said his name sent a shiver up Ichigo's spine. "So nice of you to escort the visitors around the commons. Sorry to have caused a mess with one." Her eyes fell on Ichigo again, surveying the bright red stains that now covered her left side with a look of distaste. "Though, it doesn't appear I've ruined much of anything worth wearing, anyway."
She smirked at that, meeting Ichigo's eyes with a raised brow and a look in her eye like a challenge.
Ichigo tightened her jaw. Always the remarks about her appearance. The shallow comments shouldn't have stung, but Ichigo felt a sharp jab at the back of her throat anyway. She readied a reply, but it died on her lips when she felt an arm loop around her middle. She choked on a gasp as Quiche pulled her against him.
"Sorry to see that some things still haven't changed, Aria," Quiche muttered. Ichigo could feel the buzz of his voice in every word with her back pressed against his chest. She fought to maintain her composure as Quiche's thumb lazily rubbed the place where the band of her bra met the skin of her ribs. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and she wasn't sure it was the spilled tea.
What the heck is he doing? She frantically thought to herself. And how does he know her name?
He continued casually, almost nonchalantly: "You're still drinking that pomegranate tea even though it stains your teeth. And you're still an insufferable bitch."
Aria's smug disposition fell slightly. It obviously wasn't the reaction she was expecting. Ichigo saw her subtlety run her tongue along her teeth behind her lips.
"You'd better watch your mouth, darling," Aria muttered. "That's no way to talk to a lady."
Quiche let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, you mean you?"
Aria looked furious, her angry eyes darting between Ichigo, Quiche, and the arm still tightly wound around Ichigo's middle. Her seething glare finally landed on Ichigo. Ichigo set her jaw. Aria's eyes held the deadly sharpness of knives.
"You really should've taken my advice at the party, Mew Ichigo," Aria said icily. She tilted her head to one side, her silky hair falling over one shoulder. "Because it appears you have little sense for what constitutes a lady, and what makes you look like a whore."
Ichigo felt like the tips of her ears were on fire. She remembered the way she insulted her and Lettuce at the party, and the way her friend had felt so self conscious after their confrontation. This girl obviously hated them both, and Ichigo still couldn't put her finger on why. She'd never been called a whore, but the way the word slid off Aria's tongue like poison made Ichigo want to hit her square in her pretty face.
She knew better than to feed into Aria's baiting, but she couldn't help herself. The words tumbled out of Ichigo's mouth before she could stop them: "At least you can fix your teeth. Seems like you can't help being a bitch."
Quiche laughed – in a way that reminded Ichigo of how he used to taunt her during their battles. Ruthless and cruel. His arm around Ichigo's middle squeezed her tighter in approval.
Maybe he was rubbing off on her a little too much.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were letting the zoo freaks run this place," Aria snarled. The gloves were off, Aria's fake niceties no longer at play. Her eyes were fixed on Quiche now, pupils narrowed into slits. "Don't stoop to their level, Quiche. It's embarrassing — for everyone in the court. No one likes to see a prince tumbling in the mud with the pigs."
She turned to leave, her hair whipping around her shoulder as she went. She made it three steps before turning back on her heel. "Oh, and please teach your little plaything not to wear those ridiculous clothes from Earth. You and I both know I did her a favor." Aria's eyes traveled up and down Ichigo's red-stained clothes, a smirk curling on her lips. She turned again and began to walk away.
Ichigo should have known that Quiche wouldn't let her have the last word.
"You're right — you did do her a favor," he called after her. It made Aria stop in her tracks, glancing curiously over shoulder. Quiche continued: "Because later, she won't be needing clothes."
Ichigo's face burned – more from anger or embarrassment, she didn't know. Too far. She was positively furious with Quiche, her ears ringing with rage. How dare he talk about her like that? She thought he had gotten better. She thought he had learned. The tips of Ichigo's ears were on fire as she held her tongue, biting back a reaction in anticipation of Aria's response.
Aria looked like she might vomit. She turned and marched off with a scoff, her chin tilted upwards and her lips curled downwards in disgust. She obviously had more to say, but had chosen not to say it.
As soon as Aria was a good distance away, Ichigo tore herself out of Quiche's grip, turned, and did something she'd felt the urge to do many, many times over the past few months.
Ichigo slapped Quiche across the face.
As soon as her hand made contact with him, she instantly felt bad. She knew that violence was rarely the answer to her problems, and taking out days of pent-up aggression on Quiche over one objectifying comment was unfair. But a small twinge of satisfaction buzzed in her throat anyway.
Quiche's head slowly turned back towards Ichigo. As he rubbed the side of his face, his expression slowly morphed from shock into a full-faced grin, his sharp canines glinted in the light.
"Kitty's got her claws out, huh?" he purred.
Damn it.
When Ichigo slapped him, she hadn't considered that he'd enjoy it.
She suddenly didn't feel bad anymore.
"When will you learn to shut your stupid mouth?" Ichigo snapped. She crossed her arms and glared up at him indignantly. "You have some explaining to do!"
"Do I, now?" Quiche teased, raising his brows curiously.
"For starters, we still haven't talked about the meeting," Ichigo started angrily, "but before that, you'd better explain why that girl keeps trying to corner me, because obviously you two know each other!"
Quiche cocked his head to one side. "You've spoken with her before?" he pried.
"I'll be the one asking questions, ok?" Ichigo retorted. "After I clean up. And, uh … after you put on a shirt!"
"Alright, deal," Quiche replied. He held out his hand. "Let's go."
Ichigo frowned down at his outstretched hand. "Where?"
"My room, of course. You can wash up and change there, and we won't have an audience."
Ichigo's face began to warm as she remembered Quiche's words to Aria just two minutes ago. "Are you kidding me? No!"
"Do you want answers to your questions, or not?" Quiche teased. He beckoned with the fingers of his outstretched hand and smirked. That stupid, dangerous smirk. "C'mon, kitten. You're playing my game now. Play along."
Ichigo scowled between Quiche's expectant gaze and his hand. This was a bad idea. Especially with that devilish look on his face and his remarks to Aria just minutes before. But she needed to know what was going on with the secret behind Masaya's power. And now, she desperately wanted to know why people like Aria would be hell-bent on tearing down her and her friends.
Ichigo glanced towards the box under Quiche's right arm. She snatched it from him, then grabbed his outstretched hand with more force than necessary.
"Fine, but I'm taking these," she muttered.
Quiche snickered and pulled her closer to him. Ichigo, knowing what was coming next, closed her eyes as she felt the ground disappear beneath her. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to teleporting.
Soon, the only thing she felt was her hair gently tickling her face, and the feeling of Quiche's fingers lacing into hers.
Her stomach wound itself into knots, and she wasn't sure if it was the feeling of teleporting, or a sign of something far, far worse.
(A.N.
Thank you for all of the lovely reviews lately, and for following along with the story! Things are about to get interesting next chapter. :) Please leave a review if you liked the latest update!)