"...meet my mother."
The woman with the dark hair and gold eyes grinned. Ichigo recognized the grin immediately – now that she knew who she was, the resemblance to Quiche was uncanny. They had the same slim, elven face with sharp cheekbones that lifted with a smile. "You can call me Cici," the woman said.
"Woah, you're Quiche's MOM?!" Pudding exclaimed, hopping up and down excitedly. "Can you tell us any embarrassing stories? Was Quiche always super weird?"
"Pudding!" Lettuce chided, gripping Pudding's shoulder. "Don't be rude!"
Cici laughed, her voice clear and loud. "Don't get me started!" she said with a chuckle. "I could spend all night swapping stories about this little pain in the ass." She drifted over to where Quiche was standing uncomfortably with his arms crossed, and draped an arm across his shoulders. She was just shy of his height – certainly taller than any of the mews.
Quiche rolled his eyes and made a point to glare in the other direction. "Give me a break," he groaned. "You couldn't wait for me to enjoy the festival a little while before you decide to ruin my night?"
"Oh, stop being such a drama queen," Cici whined, patting Quiche's shoulder. "I haven't seen you in ages!"
"...for a reason," Quiche muttered.
Cici sighed. "Well, if you're going to be like this, the least you could do is properly introduce me to your date," she said. She raised one brow at Ichigo. "Though, I'm not sure Mew Ichigo needs much of an introduction."
Ichigo laughed bashfully. "I-it's lovely to meet you!" she said with a smile.
"Likewise!" Cici returned. "After hearing so much about you, it's high time I finally get to make your acquaintance." She turned to Lettuce and Pudding, standing off to Ichigo's left. "And you two must be … Mew Lettuce, and Mew Pudding?"
"That's right!" Pudding said. "The one and only! Nice to meet ya!"
"It's very nice to meet you!" Lettuce replied with a nervous giggle.
Quiche cleared his throat loudly and stepped out from his mother's arm on his shoulder. "Well," he started, "now that we've all made our introductions, Ichigo and I will be leaving."
Ichigo blinked. "Wait, what?" she interjected. "But we just started talking!"
"...and we've had more than enough of that," Quiche muttered. He took hold of Ichigo and turned to leave, but Ichigo snatched her hand back from his grip.
"I am not done with this conversation!" Ichigo protested. She crossed her arms and fixed Quiche with a glare. "You can leave if you want, but I'm staying here until we're done talking with Cici."
Quiche narrowed his eyes. Ichigo glared harder.
Quiche slowly turned back around and stood next to Ichigo with a sigh.
"Stubborn, as always," Quiche muttered, too low for anyone but Ichigo to hear. Ichigo gave him a light smack on the arm. Jerk.
Cici let out a snort of laughter. "Aren't you two a perfect pair?" she remarked. "I suppose I owe you a 'thank you', Ichigo, for not being too hard on my son. After all, I'm sure you could have roughed him up much worse than you did, back when you two were still enemies."
Was that a compliment? Or just a dig at her own son? Cici's way of speaking was throwing Ichigo off. Cici was extremely candid, and painfully blunt.
"I-I don't know about that," Ichigo was quick to reply. "I mean, with the fighting, that is. I never liked to hurt anyone, but of course I had to defend Earth the best I knew how."
"Well, of course," Cici agreed. "Anyone else would have done the same. Anyway, I'm grateful we're all on the same side now. The city has been buzzing since you three arrived, of course I'm sure with you three at the festival tonight, it will send a message of unity to everyone here."
"I'd hope so!" Ichigo replied. "Though, I do feel a little out of place."
"I wouldn't exactly say you blend in," Cici said with a raised brow. She glanced up and down at Ichigo's outfit. "Who was your stylist? They certainly spared no drama."
"Um, her name is Ira? She's the attendant for my friends and I."
"Ah, yes, okay. I'm acquainted with Ira – smart gal, too smart for her own good," Cici said with a wave of her hand. "The drama was certainly intentional, then. Clever choice to match your dress to Quiche, as well – good political image, and all that."
Ichigo furrowed her brow. "Wait, hang on — how did they make the dress in time? I didn't even agree to go with Quiche until yesterday!" she pointed out. Ichigo glanced between Cici and Quiche. Quiche pursed his lips and tried to look unfazed. Cici burst out in laughter.
"What, you thought he'd go with anyone else?" Cici managed between giggles. She elbowed Quiche playfully; he flinched. "If I know one thing about my son, it's that he loves showing off. I'm sure this little charmer gave instructions to your attendant Ira to match your outfits weeks ago."
"Will you shut it already?" Quiche hissed, crossing his arms in discomfort.
"Wait, is that true?" Ichigo asked, whipping around to face Quiche. "Did you really plan this all out before we even got here?"
Quiche let out a long sigh. He looked somewhere between sheepish and annoyed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "...alright, fine — yes, I told Ira we'd be going together," he finally admitted. "Now, could we please go enjoy the rest of the party without all of … this?"
Ichigo wasn't sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that Quiche had planned on appearing with her at the festival for weeks in advance. One part of her was annoyed that he'd be so cocky to assume she'd say yes to being his date. But another part of her was startled with the fact that he'd be so thoughtful. Either way, she could see by the look on his face that he hadn't been planning on his mother ruining his cool, confident facade.
Cici, on the other hand, looked delighted to watch the interaction unfold.
"Have I kept you that long? Patience has never been your virtue, now has it, Quiche?" Cici chirped with a wave of her hand. Her eyes flicked between Quiche and Ichigo briefly. "I'll catch up with you two cuties later." She nodded to the rest of the circle of friends. "It was lovely to meet you, Mew Pudding … Mew Lettuce."
"Pleasure's all mine!" Lettuce replied with a smile.
"Yeah, it was nice to meet you!" Pudding agreed with a grin.
Cici turned and began to glide down the stairs and back to the party. Quiche uncrossed his arms and slid an arm around Ichigo's waist. He let out a long, disgruntled sigh that gently ruffled her hair.
Pie cleared his throat. "Shall we join the rest of the festivities?" he offered, choosing not to address the interaction with Quiche's mom.
"Yes, please," Quiche muttered curtly. "Before anyone else decides to ambush us."
Soon, Ichigo found herself being guided down into the open-air party among a flurry of dancing and the buzz of chattering, starry-eyed guests. She soon forgot about the strange interaction between Quiche and Cici, caught up in the bustle of the party instead.
The small group wandered through the festival grounds aimlessly, stopping to chat with an occasional guest or another small cluster of people. In some ways, it reminded Ichigo of the welcoming party she'd attended only a few days ago, with the luxurious, over-the-top outfits and lively conversations. But there was something different about this party. She had a hard time putting her finger on it.
Was it that the festival was outside, in the sweet-smelling, open air of the palace grounds? Was it that there were about three times the guests, laughing and dancing like there wasn't a care in the world? Or was it the way Quiche held her close to him as they wove through the clusters of guests, perfectly in step? His hand alternated between resting in the dip of her waist, then tracing lines up and down her back, then sliding down, down, down to grip the curve of her hip, where the warmth of his fingers made Ichigo's face burn furiously.
Quiche was the mouthpiece of their small group, a naturally suave conversationalist. Whenever they stopped to chat with a new guest, he made a point to introduce the mews, starting with Lettuce, then Pudding, then – "the leader of Tokyo Mew Mew, the beautiful Mew Ichigo."
It was starting to sound like gloating. And that made Ichigo want to punch him in the nose.
Ichigo had agreed to be "not-friends" for the evening, as part of her terms as Quiche's date. But the way things were going, Quiche wasn't planning on holding up his end of the bargain. Any passerby would reasonably assume they were together – especially now that their ornate outfits matched flawlessly.
At one point, Ichigo made eye contact with Lettuce, pointed her eyes up towards Quiche, and rolled her eyes. She hoped Lettuce understood the meaning of the subtle look, given their conversation about Quiche a day ago.
Lettuce giggled and shrugged. "Oh well," she mouthed with a smile.
Lettuce was practically glowing. Her bright blue eyes danced in the soft light of the surrounding lanterns as she turned her attention back to the chatty group of girls Pie was struggling to entertain. She said something to them Ichigo couldn't quite make out, and all three girls joined her in laughter.
Lettuce was fitting in perfectly.
Ichigo smiled to herself and tore her stare from her friend's conversation to refocus on the one happening in front of her. Two older men were chatting with Quiche about something to do with chimeras.
"Have you considered testing the newest batch with the code that regrows a bird's plumage after molting?" Quiche was saying. "If you want speed, you may want to pivot from bone to something easier to regrow."
The taller of the two men blinked. He ran one hand through his slicked-back, dark grey hair and let out a low whistle. "That … might actually work," he said slowly.
"Keratin is obviously not as strong as bone," Quiche continued, "but a cat's claws can be just as deadly as its bite."
Ichigo furrowed her brow slightly. She wondered briefly if the comment was meant for her, before she felt Quiche's fingers drum on her waist once.
So — yes.
"I really hope you'll consider my offer to teach at the academy sometime," the other man said. "Your knowledge and experience with chimeras is unmatched; the latest cohort of students could have much to learn from you."
"Yes, though – I know you have other priorities at the moment..." the first man interjected. His eyes briefly glanced between Quiche and Ichigo before falling on Quiche again, "...maybe sometime in the near future. And in the meantime, I'll take your suggestion and reach out to the aviary for guidance on the regrowth project."
"Let me know what you find," Quiche replied. "I'm quite curious, myself."
"Of course – I'll send word as soon as incubation wraps," the first man said with a wide smile. "But, I've kept you long enough," he added, straightening his back. He turned and gave a short bow to Ichigo. "Lovely to meet you, Mew Ichigo." The other man quickly mimicked the same bow.
Ichigo smiled and nodded. "It was great to meet you both!" she said with a smile. The men both smiled back and nodded to Quiche before turning and heading off to join another group a stone's throw away.
Quiche let out a long sigh and cracked his neck on one side, then the other. Ichigo winced at the sound. "So," she started, "do you always make cat references when you're talking to your friends, or just when you're trying to get my attention?"
Quiche smirked.
"Well, for starters, those old-timers from the academy aren't my friends," he said. "They know I'm unhappy with their chimera program, so they threw me a softball to stroke my ego."
Quiche's hand slid from her waist and traced along her back as he came to stand in front of her, his touch never leaving her skin. His eyes followed his fingers as they slid down Ichigo's arm and lifted her hand up to chest height. He played with the tips of her fingers, slipping them between his grip and studying them. "Now, tell me, is your bite much worse than your claws?" he purred.
His golden gaze flicked to Ichigo. Ichigo swallowed and reminded herself to breathe. Stupid flirt.
"You'll find out if you can't keep your hands to yourself," Ichigo muttered, scowling up at him. "I thought we were keeping things subtle."
"Mmm, but I am," Quiche hummed in amusement. He slipped Ichigo's hand into his, and gave her a slight tug towards him. She drew a sharp breath and stumbled a step. He caught her other hand in his to steady her. "I am being extremely subtle," he murmured, "considering I can hardly focus on anything else with you here."
"W-well, you're not very good at it," Ichigo muttered, feeling her face grow hot. She snatched her hands back and crossed her arms. "Everyone here probably thinks we're together."
Quiche arched one brow. "Good," he said simply. "If you'd like, we can leave the festival altogether … remove ourselves from prying eyes ... find some other way to spend the night."
His sly smirk grew wider. Ichigo set her jaw and felt her blush deepening.
"That's not what I meant, you jerk," she muttered. "Your mom was right – you're the most impatient, entitled person I've ever met."
Quiche's expression soured; he narrowed his eyes. "Could we not talk about my mother right now?"
Ichigo tilted her head to one side, curious at Quiche's strange reaction. Still feeling slightly annoyed with him, she felt in the mood to pry. "Wait, what is your deal with your mom, anyway?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "She seemed perfectly fine to me. Do you two fight a lot or something?"
Quiche let out a long sigh and crossed his arms in discomfort. "You could say that," he mumbled, averting his gaze to one side.
Ichigo furrowed her brow. She let the silence hang in the air for a moment, waiting to see if Quiche would continue. His gaze eventually drifted back to her. He reluctantly added: "She wasn't always like that, you know – acting all nice and sweet. She's a pilot in our army first, and a mother second."
"A pilot?" Ichigo repeated in surprise. She found her eyes wandering over the crowd to her right, seeing if she could find Cici in their midst. Ichigo had a hard time imagining the candid, sweet woman as military personnel.
"Can we unpack this later?" Quiche mumbled. Ichigo felt his fingers slide under her chin. Quiche guided Ichigo's attention back to him, tilting his head to one side. "Back to what I was saying before, about leaving the party…"
"Ichigoooooo!"
A shrill, excited voice called out from behind Ichigo. She flinched and whirled around to see a group of kids bounding towards her, led by a familiar blonde ponytail swishing back and forth down Momo's back. The chef's daughter grinned, stopping just before Ichigo and Quiche and looking them up and down with wide, excited eyes.
"Hi Momo!" Ichigo greeted the young girl cheerfully. She straightened her back and fought to distract herself from the topic of her previous conversation, and from trying to picture Cici flying a ship. "Who's this with you?"
"Oh, these are my friends from school," Momo replied excitedly. She began to point to each of the five — "this is Jovi, this is Riya, and Willa, and Priya, and Elci!"
The group of kids gave short, hurried bows at the waist. A few were bouncing on their toes with excitement.
"Well it's nice to meet all of you!" Ichigo laughed, placing her hands on her hips. "Your friend Momo really helped me out of a tough spot the other day!"
"We heard!" said one kid in a high-pitched squeal.
"Yeah, a real tough spot!" said another, in slightly broken Japanese.
"A-anyway, I just wanted to say hi and say you look really pretty," Momo said with a grin. She rubbed the back of her neck bashfully. "And, um, I like your cool ears."
"Oh, you mean earlier?" Ichigo laughed. "I didn't mean for that to happen — they just kind of show up sometimes!"
"No, um ... I mean now," Momo said with a giggle.
Ichigo reached up and felt the tip of a fuzzy ear.
Oh no.
"Wh — again?!" Ichigo exclaimed, clapping her hands over her ears in shock.
Momo and her friends burst into laughter. "Wait, you really can't control them?" one of the kids asked between laughs.
"N-no!" Ichigo stammered. "They just kinda show up sometimes!"
She didn't want to elaborate on the details of when her cat ears typically made an appearance, especially to her young audience.
Suddenly, she felt a hand curl around her waist as Quiche came to stand next to her again. She lifted her hands from her ears and glanced up at him in surprise. "I like the ears, too," Quiche said, glancing between Ichigo and Momo.
"Awwww!" Momo crooned. A few of her friends squealed in glee. Ichigo felt a twinge of annoyance squirming in her gut. Gloating over her now? To a bunch of kids?
The urge to punch Quiche in the nose had returned.
Momo put her hands on her hips and nodded. "Well, Ichigo, I'll say — you're going to make a really nice princess!" she declared. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go talk to Pudding over there! Bye!"
"Wh—what?! I'm not—"
Ichigo hardly had two words out before Momo and her group of friends were skipping their way over to Pudding and Tart, who were chatting with another small group a few meters away.
"See?" Ichigo groaned, glaring up at Quiche. "This is your fault everyone thinks we're together! Even Momo thinks so, and she's just a kid!"
Quiche raised one brow, a wry grin stretching across his face. "Is that really so bad?" he replied dryly.
"Well, aren't you two the life of the party?"
Ichigo felt Quiche pull her closer to his side before she could turn to see who was greeting her. When she did, she spotted Orion and his date, Kori, approaching her from behind. Kori's white dress and Orion's matching white, knee-length coat both glowed radiantly orange in the light of the lanterns around them.
Kori's expression held a delighted smile; Orion's looked slightly forced.
"Hi again, Ichigo!" Kori greeted cheerfully. Her hand was looped through Orion's arm, where she leaned on him as they stopped in front of Quiche and Ichigo. "Orion told me you two have already met before!"
"Ah, yes!" Ichigo said with a grin and nervous laugh. "We, um, met at the welcoming party a few days ago, when I first arrived."
"And you've made yourself scarce ever since," Orion replied. "You must be busy. I've hardly seen you since the council meeting the other day."
He tilted his head ever-so-slightly, as if to punctuate his reminder of the catastrophic meeting with a look. Ichigo remembered what the Emperor said to her in his private office just yesterday:
"I've spoken with Orion, and he has clear instructions not to overstep this position again."
Orion was clearly unhappy with Ichigo after being reprimanded by his uncle. But Ichigo wasn't in the mood to be made small by him again. And she wasn't in the mood to be baited into anger, either.
The Ichigo of yesteryear would have fired back with a sharp retort. But a strange, confident power was flowing through her tonight, and she felt it buzzing in her ears as she replied curtly: "Yes, very busy."
She punctuated her words with a smile, and let them hang in the air for a beat. She felt an approving drum of Quiche's fingers where they curled around her arm.
Feeling as though she'd left enough dead air hanging to make her point, Ichigo moved her attention to Kori. "Are you two enjoying the party?" she asked sweetly. "It's a beautiful setting, isn't it?"
Kori took a moment to reply, her eyes darting between Ichigo and Orion. "Um, yeah!" she answered. "It's really gorgeous! I love what they did with the grounds. They even brought the old roses back!"
"Oh, did the old palace not have roses before?" Ichigo asked.
"No," Kori replied, "they've been dormant for at least a century. They're supposed to be okay in harsh weather, evolved to adapt to the climate we were all used to, but apparently they were hard to maintain. People sort of forgot to take care of them during a changeover of royal families, about three generations ago."
Kori let out a wistful, girlish sigh. "And now, here they are, restored to their former glory for the Solstice Festival!" she fawned. "Isn't it so romantic?"
She leaned further into Orion's shoulder and looked up at him through her thick, dark lashes, like she expected him to voice his agreement. Orion complied with a long, tired sigh: "Yes, I suppose it is."
Kori was either oblivious to Orion's distaste with their conversation, or she was simply choosing to ignore it. Her grin stretched wider as Orion wrapped an arm around her, mimicking Quiche's hold on Ichigo.
"What a pain, though – to restore such a decrepit place," Quiche said flatly. "I still struggle to understand why we went through so much trouble after leaving the grounds abandoned for so long after Deep Blue's passing."
Ichigo focused intently on Orion's reaction. Quiche was fishing – for something, she knew, though she couldn't quite figure out what.
Whatever it was, Quiche seemed to have hit the mark. Orion's bright blue eyes, a smokey grey in the dim light of the lanterns around them, narrowed slightly before correcting to a distant calm.
"A worthy endeavour," Orion replied coolly, "to restore something so beautiful to the former glory of the ways of old." He paused, his eyes falling briefly to Ichigo before returning to Quiche. "I only hope we continue to revel in its beauty. Maybe we could resume hosting council meetings in the former throne room, like years past."
Ichigo felt Quiche's fingertips twitch slightly.
"We'll see," he replied simply.
Tension crackled in the air between them. Ichigo began to feel like the conversation was straying into hostile territory.
She cleared her throat. "Um, I was just about to go rejoin the rest of the mews. Would either of you like to come?"
Kori's eyes lit up with renewed excitement. "Yes!" she chirped.
"Maybe later," Orion replied curtly. "The night is young, and I still have other matters to attend to."
He smiled down at Kori and gave her a squeeze on the shoulder. "I'll find you later," he told her. He released her shoulder, folding his arms behind his back before making pointed eye contact with Quiche.
"Let's keep this an open dialog," Orion said. He smiled wide. Something dark passed over his expression — something that made Ichigo's skin crawl. "I'd love to help inform you more regarding the importance of this hallowed space. Maybe you're not as familiar with its cultural richness, given your upbringing and all."
"I'm familiar," Quiche bit back. His slender fingers were squeezed tight enough around Ichigo's arm that she could feel his fingernails pinching her skin. "But please, let's not close the book on this fascinating conversation."
Orion seemed satisfied with the response, nodding and tilting his head to the side. "Certainly," Orion said. He turned his attention to Ichigo, where he gave a short bow. Ichigo found her hand slipping into his as Orion rose from the bow. She thought to pull it back, but his grip was firm on her fingers.
"Pleasure, as always, Ichigo," he said with a smirk. He bent at the waist slightly to give her knuckles a light kiss. Ichigo stood frozen in surprise before she felt his fingers loosen their grip on hers. She snatched her hand back quickly and folded her arms behind her back with a nervous smile.
"Um, yeah, same!" she managed to say. She chanced a glance over at Kori, but she looked unfazed by the interaction. Maybe this is normal behavior for him, Ichigo thought to herself.
Orion's eyes fell on Quiche again. He lifted his brows slightly before planting a kiss on Kori's head and turning from the group.
"So, where's the rest of the mews?" Kori said with a giggle.
Ichigo wondered to herself if Kori was playing dumb, or if their last conversation had really been subtle enough to miss. Either way, she had an inkling that neither herself nor Quiche were in the mood to keep up the facade.
Ichigo stole a glance up at Quiche. He was focused on Orion, watching him leave with a look of seething contempt.
Thinking quickly, Ichigo glanced behind her and found that Pudding and Tart were still standing together a stone's throw away, chatting with Momo and her friends. "Oh, um, Mew Pudding is over there!" Ichigo pointed out to Kori. "How about you two get acquainted, and I'll join you in a minute?"
"It's fine," came Quiche's voice abruptly. Ichigo's attention shot back to where he was staring off into the crowd. "I have to go find Pie to talk to him about … some things," he continued. His voice was even-keeled, but it held a terrifying venom that made the hair on the back of Ichigo's neck bristle.
Quiche finally broke concentration from the crowd, meeting Ichigo's eyes with a forced look of calm. "Go introduce Kori to the mews. I'll find you later."
Ichigo swallowed her nerves and nodded. She refocused her attention to Kori and smiled. "Come on, I'll introduce you," she said. Ichigo held out her hand to Kori in invitation. Kori slipped her hand into Ichigo's, giggling with glee.
At least one of us is having a good time, Ichigo thought to herself as she led Kori to where Pudding was chatting with Momo.
Pudding was engaged in a conversation Tart seemed to be keen on ignoring.
"... and that's when I was like, well, if this boring café job can make me more cash than my performances in the park, I guess I'll take it!" Pudding was saying emphatically. Momo and her friends looked enthralled in the conversation, nodding and grinning as Pudding talked. "And I mean, the tips aren't bad if you can spin the plates in the air when you deliver 'em!"
"Hey, Pudding!" Ichigo greeted her friend. "I want you to meet Kori – she's Orion's date to the festival."
Pudding lit up with excitement immediately, followed by a look of surprise. "Wait, you're Orion's date? You're way too pretty to be dating that jerk!"
Instant regret.
Of course Pudding didn't know better than to keep her mouth shut. Since when did she have any kind of filter, anyway? "Pudding!" Ichigo hissed between her teeth. Tart, watching the interaction with silent amusement, let out a snort of laughter.
Kori burst into confused giggles, hiding her face behind her palms. "Oh no," she said between her fingers, "what did Orion do now? He's such a troublemaker sometimes."
"Well, he kinda said some rude stuff in a meeting, but I think we're all okay now!" Pudding replied, glancing up at Ichigo for reassurance. Ichigo crossed her arms and bobbed her head; Pudding mimicked the motion. "Yes, we're okay now! Especially now that I get to meet you, Kori!"
The small group continued their introductions with laughs and jokes. Ichigo found herself tuning out of the conversation when she spotted a black coat sweep past their group and travel deeper into the crowd of people. The gold embroidery on Quiche's back danced in the light as he walked, the elaborate design – a dragon, a near perfect match to the one on his dagger – visible only as he passed directly in front of a row of lanterns. Ichigo watched him stride further into the crowd, nodding to guests as they greeted him but remaining focused on his task. Ichigo frowned, biting the inside of her cheek.
Something in the air felt wrong. And it wasn't just Orion's kiss on her hand.
"Hey, Ichigo!"
Kori's voice snapped Ichigo out of her daze. She blinked as she registered that Kori was touching her arm. Pudding looked to be arguing with Tart about something. Momo and her friends were walking in another direction, gleefully chattering amongst themselves. Kori tilted her head to one side. "This all must be a lot for you, huh?" she said.
Ichigo smiled bashfully, embarrassed to have not been paying attention. "Ah, um, yeah," Ichigo offered lamely. "It's been a crazy few days, you know?"
"Of course!" Kori replied. "I mean, you didn't grow up in politics, right? I suppose you and Quiche are the same that way. It's a shame you two aren't a couple. You'd be sweet together."
Ichigo felt her face flush slightly; she laughed to hide from cringing. "That's nice of you to say," she said.
"It's true!" Kori insisted. "Though, I know it'd be a lot of pressure. There's the whole language barrier, the whole thing about not understanding our culture and society … plus it's so far away from home!"
Ichigo froze.
The wheels began to turn in her head. Suddenly, she was taken back to visions of an imaginary apartment in London with creaky wood floors and the imaginary smell of pine. A deep, dormant anxiety roared to life in her gut as she began to string together comparisons to the life she'd escaped just months ago.
When she was engaged to Masaya, she had worried about leaving behind her home in Tokyo for London, a place where she didn't speak the language and she didn't know a soul. She had worried about uprooting her life for his dreams. She had worried about being forced into a life away from her identity as a mew. And she had severed their relationship to keep her sense of self intact. She knew she had made the right decision – staying in Tokyo had been the best thing she could have done for herself.
Now, here, on a strange planet far away from home, Ichigo stomach churned as a single thought began to ring louder and louder in her mind:
Is this London all over again?
"Ichigo?"
Kori's voice cut through Ichigo's thoughts. She snapped back to attention, blinking and drawing a deep breath.
Kori looked on with concern. "Are you okay? Did I say something upsetting?"
The roar of her thoughts made it almost impossible for Ichigo to focus. She felt panic rising in her throat as she struggled to form words on her tongue.
Is this London all over?
Is this worse than London?
Am I too attached?
I should have never come.
Language barrier.
Not knowing the culture.
Far away from home.
From everything.
Am I in too deep already?
Am I already stuck?
"I – no, it's fine, I just feel like I'm – I'm going to be, um, sick," Ichigo managed to stutter. Her breath felt shallow and weak as she looked around for an escape – somewhere she could be alone with her thoughts. "I – um, need to find a restroom."
"Oh! There should be one in the old palace – in the west wing, past the kitchens," Kori offered. "I can show you!"
"No!" Ichigo said, a little too forcefully. Kori blinked in surprise. Ichigo cleared her throat and tried again, softer this time, "No, I – I'll be fine. Thanks, Kori. I'll, um, be back in a few minutes."
Without waiting for a reply, Ichigo turned, picked up her skirts and headed towards the steps of the palace. She wove through groups of party-goers, keeping her head down and her eyes trained on the narrow gaps between bodies as she went. Her head felt like it was pounding, her focus clouded with a sudden terror she couldn't calm. It was only when her foot hit the first step of the black marble stairs did she begin to feel a deep, mournful sadness.
Black marble of an ancient palace. Wooden floorboards of a dusty apartment in London. It was obvious now — with all of the elaborately-dressed party guests around her, laughing and talking in a language she didn't understand.
This place wasn't for her. It was never for her.
Ichigo barely registered the click of her shoes hitting the steps as she ascended them, her throat feeling like it was closing up on her as she walked. She took a left at the top of the stairs, as Kori had instructed. She needed to find somewhere to be alone. She knew she needed to quiet the shrieking thoughts numbing her mind.
With some silence, Ichigo figured she could sort through what it was she needed to do next.
The old palace was abandoned, the west wing deserted and still as Ichigo made her way down the halls that smelled of dust and old linen. It was the perfect place to disappear to, at least for a little while. The only sound was the tap, tap, tap of her shoes on the marble floor.
Until it wasn't.
Something that sounded like whispered voices echoed down the hall. Ichigo flattened herself against the wall and held her breath.
The footsteps stopped. Ichigo heard the sound of a door open and close.
She peered down in the direction of the noise, squinting into the dim light streaming in through the windows of the hall. Slowly, she lifted her back from the wall and exhaled.
Her exhale turned into a gasp when she felt someone grab her wrist.
Ichigo whirled around with a raised palm, stopping just short of Quiche's face.
He didn't even flinch, his expression stormy as he hissed: "What did I tell you about wandering around alone? I would have never found you if Pie didn't see you running up the stairs."
The sickly feeling in Ichigo's gut churned as her eyes flicked between his. The golden light in his irises danced in the dim corridor, and Ichigo had to fight to keep herself from losing her wits in their firey stare. "Let go," she murmured weakly, twisting her wrist. Quiche held fast, his eyes narrowing as he studied her reaction for a few moments.
"What's all this about, kitten?" he muttered. "Did someone say something to you? Orion's date giving you a hard time?"
Ichigo pulled at her wrist — hard. She forcefully yanked it out of Quiche's grip, and balled her hands into fists. It was hard to even look at him. Suddenly, all she could think about was the look on Masaya's face when she had broken off their engagement.
She hated picturing the same expression on Quiche.
"Just leave me alone, ok?" Ichigo said between her teeth. She let her gaze fall to the floor, pointedly focusing on the skirt of her dress. "I just want to be alone."
"Why?" Quiche pried. Ichigo flinched as she felt his fingertips brushing through her hair framing her face. "Tell me."
Ichigo set her jaw. She tightened her fists and tried to fight the familiar lightness in her chest as Quiche's fingertips gently traced the skin behind her ear.
Dangerous. Dangerous. Dangerous.
The words fell from her lips before she realized they had escaped: "How is this different from London?"
Quiche's touch stilled.
Ichigo found herself holding her breath, but the rest of her thoughts tumbled out anyway as panic took hold in her chest: "How is this different? How is this not the same thing as before?" Ichigo said, her voice rising as she lifted her eyes to meet Quiche's look of confusion. "I don't know the language, the culture, or anything about this place. I don't fit in anywhere. I don't belong here, and it's obvious to everybody.
"But you do. This is your home. It's not mine," Ichigo said. "And it's no different from London. This is where you need to be. Not me."
"You're wrong."
Ichigo was startled by Quiche's sharp response. She blinked, searching Quiche's expression as he narrowed his eyes and continued in a biting tone: "If you think I'm anything like Aoyama, you're wrong."
"But how is this different?" Ichigo argued, feeling frustration building in her voice. "We live in separate worlds, Quiche! Everybody around here knows your name! You have a whole life built here! How am I supposed to believe that you're going to be happy being away from all of this?"
"Because I already made that choice."
Ichigo opened her mouth to argue further, but Quiche interrupted her by forcing her chin up so that their eyes met. Ichigo held her breath as he continued in a low tone: "I decided a long time ago that you're the only thing I care about. I knew the moment I raised a weapon against Deep Blue. I knew it meant I was a traitor, but it was worth it. Even when I thought I'd never see you again, it was worth it. And now that you're here with me, I'm not about to lose you to some bullshit political drama I didn't sign up for."
Ichigo stubbornly tore her chin out of his hand. "But this is your home!" she argued.
"What do you think is so important to me about this place, kitten?" Quiche bit back. He gestured wildly behind him with one arm. "Do you really think I give a shit about the stupid title, or the parties, or the politics of all of this? I don't care if I leave tomorrow and never see this place again. I'd go against my people a thousand times over if that's what it takes for you to be mine."
Suddenly, Quiche turned and looked over his shoulder. Ichigo inhaled sharply and stepped closer to him, where his other arm slowly snaked around her waist, their argument temporarily forgotten. Quiche's words hung in the air, their weight vibrating between them in the silence.
A few tense moments passed between them as Quiche continued to stare down the hall behind him, listening for something. Ichigo could only make out the sound of their breathing, outside of the silent chaos that continued to rip through her mind. His words settled into her thoughts like a flock of nesting birds.
It was only a few seconds, but it felt like ages before Quiche finally turned back to Ichigo. He glanced down the other end of the hall for a moment, then wordlessly reached out to the wall behind him to a pin pad on the wall. He punched in a series of numbers without looking, and the door opened with a swish and a click.
"Too many people around here," Quiche whispered in remark. He inclined his head to the open doorway. "After you."
Ichigo frowned and took one last glance down one end of the hall — then the other — before slipping inside the mystery room. Quiche was quick after her, the door closing as he stepped inside.
The room was stuffy, and smelled like a combination of burning paper and iron. Ichigo could barely make out in the dim light that it was some sort of study; the space was lined with bookshelves, an abandoned fireplace nestled into one wall. She barely had time to take in her surroundings, however, before she felt Quiche's hands on her arms. He moved quickly and urgently, spinning Ichigo around and walking her back until she was perched at the edge of the table in the middle of the room.
"Now tell me," Quiche murmured, his hands coming to rest on either side of her, gripping the table next to her hips, "what is it you want, kitten? Is it for me to return to Earth with you, and stay for good? Is it for you to have a life here, to come back to with your friends whenever you please? Or, do you simply enjoy watching me try to figure you out, while you look at me with those eyes and pretend like you don't know?"
He tilted his head to one side. Ichigo could hardly focus, trying to drown out the alarm bells ringing in her head while she felt utterly consumed by the tension buzzing between them.
Weren't you just thinking about breaking things off with him five minutes ago? she thought to herself.
But, that was before Quiche had somehow managed — yet again — to break through her mental walls and pull her back in. He'd always had a way with words. And now, Ichigo wondered to herself how dangerous that could really be.
"I already made that choice."
"I'd go against my people a thousand times over if that's what it takes."
Could she really trust he was telling the truth?
Ichigo collected her breath and forced words to leave her lips: "I just..." she started. She found her eyes drifting for a half-second, glancing from his hands on the table, to the exposed part of his collarbone, to his lips before finally meeting his eyes: "...it's just a lot."
Quiche raised one brow, considering her response for a moment. Then, he took one step back and let his hands slide off of the table, folding them behind his back instead.
Ichigo felt the pull immediately — like a thread was pulling her chest towards him. She suddenly ached to close the distance between them again. "Then," Quiche started, glancing between Ichigo's eyes down to her lips, "you want less?"
No.
More.
More.
More.
The distance between them felt like a canyon. Ichigo's senses were betraying her with the intense urge to close the gap between them. She knew Quiche was toying with her on purpose. He was too clever, too calculated to not know how strong the urge was to move closer.
She knew it would be stupid to cave to her emotions, when she had been so sure of her feelings just minutes before. How could she possibly give in now? Yet, she knew it was always like this with Quiche. The back and forth. The constant fight between what she knew was smart, and what she felt was real. It wasn't simple. With him, it was never simple.
But now, in the small, dusty room with an arm's length of space between them and utter silence pressing in on every side, the only thing Ichigo could think about was the fact that Quiche had just promised her that he would leave everything behind — his friends, his position of power, the city he grew up in — if it meant they could be together. He'd done it before, he claimed, when he decided to turn his back on his leader and de facto god, Deep Blue.
But could it really be that simple?
"I … want things to be simpler," Ichigo murmured finally, allowing her thoughts to spill over to her voice. She paused, biting the insides of her cheeks. "I want … I want easy."
Quiche regarded her for a moment. "Done," he replied, his eyes flicking between hers. "Whatever that means, consider it done. As long as I never have to hear you compare me to that insufferable, waste-of-space human ever again."
"Don't talk about Masaya like that," Ichigo quickly chided, frowning. "I wasn't comparing you two, just the … the situations."
"Fine," Quiche muttered, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Same thing."
"You're so childish," Ichigo said disdainfully. "Only insecure people say things like that about their significant others' past relationships."
Quiche smirked. "Hm. I'm your 'significant other' now?"
Ichigo felt her face go warm instantly; she couldn't believe the words that had just fallen out of her mouth. She rushed to correct herself: "I– um, wait, no! I mean – you know what I meant! Don't distract me from what I was saying!"
"What, distract you from calling me names?" Quiche teased. He stepped forward, narrowing the distance between them to less than a hand's width apart. "There's lots of other names you can call me, you know. Nicer ones." His fingertips brushed up against the skin of Ichigo's arm. "Like, say, 'darling'? 'Sweetheart'?"
"Shut up," Ichigo muttered. Her ears were hot, her senses hyper-aware of how little space was left between them. Quiche was watching her with the same dangerous, teasing grin that she'd come to know all so well over the years — the one that always meant trouble was soon to follow. "And wipe that stupid grin off of your face! I'm still mad at you."
Quiche's hand found its way to the small of her back, where he brushed the tips of his fingers up against the overlapping folds of Ichigo's dress. "Sure, kitten," Quiche murmured, drawing close enough that Ichigo could feel his breath on her lashes, "...whatever you say."
Then, he leaned in and kissed her.
The moment their lips met, the tension between them snapped, and a rush of warmth poured all over Ichigo's body. All of a sudden, the memories of Quiche's touch on her bare skin when they were last alone roared to life in her mind, crowding out any of the lingering feelings of doubt or sadness that had been so loud just minutes before.
The kiss was urgent and fierce. Quiche deepened it almost immediately. His body pressed against hers, and he leaned into Ichigo so that her back dug into the edge of the table, and she had to steady herself with one arm to stay upright. The kiss felt almost desperate with the way they moved against each other.
Ichigo broke away from the kiss to catch her breath for half a second — and in that moment, she heard the popping sound of buttons coming off of her dress.
"Quiche!" Ichigo hissed in shock. Quiche was already preoccupied with kissing the side of her neck, one hand making quick work of pulling the back of her dress apart.
Ichigo shoved Quiche's shoulders, forcing him back to look him in the eye. "You're going to ruin my dress!" she said. "I can't go back to the party if you keep doing that!"
For a moment, there was only heavy air and the sound of their breathing around them. But then, there was something dark that passed over Quiche's expression as he drew closer, reached around Ichigo's waist, and ripped the back of the dress clean down to her waist.
Ichigo's jaw fell open as the tiny chorus of tapping cascaded around them, buttons bouncing off of the table and onto the floor. "Whoops," Quiche said darkly. A devilish smirk crawled up his face. Ichigo was frozen speechless as the tapping began to die down around them.
Did Ichigo really care about the dress? A little — it was pretty, and keeping it intact meant she could go back to the festival. But in that moment, she did her best to put on a stubborn scowl, even as her whole body felt a surge of heat at Quiche's fingertips on her bare back.
"Jerk," she finally muttered half-heartedly.
Ichigo clutched the bodice of her dress to her chest, trying to keep it upright with the back seam torn open. But she had a hard time forcing herself to look annoyed as Quiche pulled her closer, picked her up, and placed her on his hips. Then, they disappeared from the dusty little room, the festival, and all the worries of the night. All of Ichigo's doubts felt as though they had dissolved into the air as quickly as they had formed.
Could it really be this simple?
That night, he made it feel like it could be.
The door to the small, cramped study slid open, then closed as two figures slipped inside.
The first strolled confidently towards the center of the room, while the second lingered by the door, checking for any openings or ways into the windowless space.
"You caught all of that out in the hall, right?" the second person hissed. They tapped the wood of a bookshelf, then knocked on the wall, listening for something peculiar. "You're sure they're not coming back?"
"Quite sure," the first figure replied. They surveyed the room slowly, methodically, drinking in their surroundings. "They have no reason to return to this room, what with the festivities outside of it. Besides, the room is retrofitted with modern security. They wouldn't be able to teleport in — they'd have to use the door."
"True," the second person agreed. They sniffed, straightening their back after their inspection of the walls on either side of the fireplace. "Room appears clean. No bugs or wires. I don't think anyone's touched this place since Deep Blue's death."
"Sadly," the first person remarked. "What a waste of facilities."
The second person sighed. They paced the length of the room, observing the bookshelves as they passed. "It's too bad Pax couldn't finish the job tonight. He talked big, but I knew he'd resort to cowardice when it mattered the most. I mean, what are the odds he would be called for the transport of the mews?"
"Pax is young and easily frightened," the first figure remarked. "He would have a manhunt after him if he had followed through with the plan. It was a gamble to give him the assignment, but not crucial to our mission. His failure compromises very little."
The first figure turned and sniffed, catching the second figure's attention.
"Though, if tonight proves anything," they said, "it's that we can't afford another day spent in the shadows. Every day that goes by, the council rots from the inside."
"Yes, but — how did it get so bad in only a few days?" the second person asked.
"It's not days," the first figure replied icily. "What you heard tonight … it all but confirms my suspicions. Tokyo Mew Mew – no, their leader, Ichigo – has had her teeth in Quiche for much, much longer. Years, it seems. I can't believe we didn't see her as an inside threat sooner."
"But what about Quiche?" the second figure argued. "Tokyo Mew Mew can go back to Earth and stay there for all we care, but what are we going to do about him? And the rest of those from the mission to Earth, for that matter?"
"We're going to do exactly what we should have done a long time ago," the first figure replied. Their attention shifted for a moment, down to their feet. They stooped down and picked something up from the rug, turning it over in their fingers as they spoke. The small object glinted in the light. "Quiche and the rest of the traitors to Deep Blue will suffer, just as Deep Blue suffered."
The first figure held out the small object to the second.
It was a button – a small, shiny black button.
"This has already gone too far," the first figure continued, nodding to the button. "Time is a luxury we can't afford – not with the level of treason we heard tonight. The moment she's alone, find her."
The second figure nodded and pocketed the button.
"Oh, and one last thing. Remember – I want her alive."