Ryou Shirogane found himself crawling on his hands and knees through an air duct of an alien headquarters, with a small alien child leading their way and another strange girl at the rear. It was hot, and he hardly had room to slick the sweat from his face in the claustrophobic tunnel of metal. He could hear labored breathing and cussing as Tart and Pudding scuttled through the duct just ahead of him.
"How long is this damn thing?" Tart hissed up ahead. "I'm sweating like crazy in here!"
"It's not far!" whispered the young girl in the front, in perfect Japanese. "We should be just above the Emperor's quarters in about a minute."
Ryou wasn't sure what would have happened if they hadn't found the chef's daughter by pure chance as they snuck their way around the compound center. Their plan was already falling into chaos with the interception of their ship. Their discovery by the chef's daughter — who, apparently, recognized Pudding from Pudding's mission to the planet — gave them an easy way to gain access to the Emperor's quarters. The girl ("Momo?" Was that her name?) seemed to know all of the secret passageways around the city's commons, where all of the main government operations were.
Momo was also privy to information. She told the group about how her father, the head chef, hadn't touched any of the Emperor's food for at least a week. The staff caring for the ailing Emperor insisted on him getting a "special diet", but upon hearing of the insurrection in the government, Momo had other ideas.
Ryou did, too. It didn't take long for him to connect the dots — the Emperor's food was being poisoned. The timing was too good; the evidence, clearer by the minute.
Ryou knew Quiche was likely already dead. The Emperor seemed like the next to go in the firing line of the new, brutal alien government.
The team looking for Quiche wasn't likely to turn up anything but a body. Ryou only hoped he could get to the Emperor in time for their small group to help.
Momo was armed with a small pouch of antidotes and teas meant to counteract any toxins in the body. Ryou wondered to himself how a girl who looked no older than 10 knew so much about poisons, but he chalked it up to a strange educational system and an abundance of curiosity. The herbs reeked of cat piss. The smell was overwhelming in the small metal tunnel.
"Remind me why we can't teleport?" Ryou whispered. "I'm about to lose my mind here."
"Our security systems prevent us from teleporting into rooms," the attendant girl behind him offered helpfully. Ira, Ryou reminded himself. She had slightly awkward Japanese, and a look about her like she was smarter than she let on. She continued: "Unfortunately, the only way into rooms is through the doors. Well … except this, I suppose."
"Shh, everyone shut up! We're almost there!" Momo hissed up ahead.
The small posse shuffled a few meters ahead before finally coming to a stop. Ryou heard some bumping and sliding up ahead, then the quiet scrape of sheet metal against metal.
They all sat in dead silence for a few, painfully tense seconds. Ryou peered over the shoulders of Pudding and Tart, and saw Momo carefully, gingerly sitting on the edge of the opening. Then, she looked up, pointed down, and jumped through the opening.
Pudding and Tart quickly followed suit. Ryou scrambled after them awkwardly. He swung his legs over the edge of the opening in the air duct and peered down into the dimly-lit room. He didn't see anyone below him, so he jumped.
Thanks to the feline genetics in him, Ryou managed to land on his feet. But thanks to being a 23-year-old who spent too much time at a computer, his knees hurt on landing. Ryou cringed, but quickly recovered and stumbled to the side to make room for Ira. She glided down gracefully and began to survey the room with the rest of the posse.
The room appeared vacant; it was shaped like an octagon, and very small — not somewhere Ryou pictured for an emperor's quarters. He wondered at first if Momo had led them to the wrong place. Soft, glowing golden light emanated from elaborately-etched glass lanterns mounted close to the high ceiling. The walls were decorated in elaborate designs of red and gold. Between the scattered pieces of furniture — a low bench, floor cushions, a dresser and a vanity — sat a bed.
An occupied bed. Ryou could make out the sounds of soft wheezing emanating from the thick covers blanketing its occupant.
Tart tapped Pudding's arm with his elbow. "Help me watch the door," he whispered to her. Pudding nodded, took his hand and tip-toed to where the simple metal door sat on the other side of the room. Ira nodded to Momo — as if to reassure her — and softly padded over to the side of the bed.
The alien girl knelt down and examined the figure in the bed — the Emperor, Ryou knew. Momo walked over to where Ira stood, waiting cautiously to the side. Ira reached out gingerly and touched the Emperor's shoulder.
"Your excellence," she murmured softly. "I'm so sorry to disturb you. Are you awake? Can you hear me?"
A few more seconds of labored wheezing.
Then: "Lady Ira … why …"
His next few words were unintelligible. Ryou furrowed his brow and wondered if the Emperor was speaking gibberish. After all, the poison could have easily affected his speech. But then, Ira replied in the same gibberish.
It finally clicked — they were speaking their native tongue.
Ryou found himself stunned in fascination. He suddenly felt the familiar, uncontrollable desire to learn. He wanted to absorb as much of the language as possible, so he listened intently as Ira and the Emperor continued to speak.
Western phonetics. Sounds a bit like French. No, Italian. Wait, no … Latin. Their language is a derivative of Latin. Or an early ancestor of it. How early was their language developed? Did it evolve over time, while away on their planet?
His head swimming with questions, Ryou watched as Momo brought over the herbs from her bag. She handed them to Ira, who continued speaking softly to the Emperor and showed him the herbs. Then, she made a quick cup of tea with the herbs and a kettle on the nearby side table, and helped the Emperor sit up.
He was much, much older than Ryou expected. He knew the average life expectancy of the Viatorem was short — only about 40 years of human life, due to the previously harsh conditions on their planet. This man appeared to be at least 10 years older than what Ryou had been expecting. It was a good sign — a good omen for the life expectancy of the rest of the species. Ryou couldn't help but stare in fascination. Even in a weakened state, the Emperor had a distinguished air of power about him. His snowy white hair was thick and long; his bright blue, catlike eyes shone in the dark as he squinted into the room at its occupants. He took a cup of tea from Ira that had the same foul smell as the healing herbs Momo had been carrying.
Ryou stepped forward. He had so many questions. So much to say.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
"Your Excellence, is everything okay? Is someone there with you?"
The whole room descended into silence. Tart and Pudding braced themselves against the door. Ryou held his breath.
The Emperor turned to Ira. "You're certain about all of this?" he asked in Japanese. His voice was soft, but distinguished in tone.
"Yes," Ira murmured. "The evidence is overwhelming."
The knocking grew more aggressive. "Your Excellence, please open the door if you are able!" came the voice from the other side.
"What do we do?" Tart hissed at Ira. Ira glanced between Tart, Ryou and the Emperor.
The knocking continued for a few more seconds. Then, someone began to pry at the edge of the metal door. Ryou could hear metal sliding against metal. Pudding jumped away as a thin sword slid under the gap between the door and the ground.
"Let them in," the Emperor instructed from the bed. He sat up straighter and lifted his chin. "I have some … strong words for my caretakers over the last few days."
Ryou glanced between Ira and the Emperor. The only mew with them was Pudding, and Ryou was completely unarmed. The Emperor was in no state to defend himself.
"Can we hold them off?" Ryou blurted out. "Does someone have something I can use to defend myself?"
The Emperor inclined his head to one side. He examined Ryou carefully. "Dear son of Earth," he said, "we have no need. I understand now that my own blood has betrayed me. We'll settle things with the unknowing accomplices using the gift of speech."
Ryou clapped his mouth shut and nodded. He knew better than to argue with the Emperor, but it did little to settle his nerves.
The Emperor nodded to Tart.
"Prince Tart, please release the door."
Tart swallowed and nodded. He motioned for Pudding to back away, then slammed the button opening the door to the room.
Immediately, three Viatorem soldiers rushed in with weapons drawn. Tart and Pudding retreated back to where Ira, Momo and Ryou stood by the bed.
"Stand down," the Emperor commanded, his voice stronger than before. "I am of sound mind and body."
The soldiers hesitated, glancing between all of the room's occupants. They kept their weapons drawn as one of them started hesitantly: "What is … what is the meaning of this?"
"I've just been informed that there is a coup happening under my nose," the Emperor replied calmly. "Orchestrated by my nephew, of all people. I would venture to assume none of you knew my food for the past week or so has contained a highly poisonous herb, meant to cause my respiratory system to fail over time?"
The three soldiers all went pale. The largest one on the left, all broad shoulders and square jaw, was the first to speak: "N-no, your excellence. We were simply following Prince Orion's orders to ease a peaceful transition."
"Ah, but that's where things get complicated, no?" the Emperor said. "Are you not privy to Orion's plan to restart the wishes of Deep Blue and retake Earth?"
Silence descended over the room. The three soldiers all looked like they would faint.
"It's of no concern," the Emperor said finally. "I understand. The frustration of losing a promised reward is blinding. Especially when those we previously thought were enemies…" the Emperor glanced over at Ryou, "…turn out to be the caretakers of such a reward."
He breathed a long, tired sigh. "Rest assured, I will hold you at no fault, given that you commit to additional training on the history and culture of Earth. You may find yourself surprised to discover how much the planet is similar to what we've built here on Novutera.
"And, of course, I am stripping my nephew of power, effective immediately. I understand you had no hand in the attempt to poison me. Your wishes were to unlock the spoils of Earth, uninhibited and without considerations, to better the lives of your families. Unfortunately, it seems my nephew has exploited some of your wishes for his own personal gain."
The Emperor paused, furrowing his brow. The guards all snapped out of their stunned daze to exchange panicked looks. Momo, Tart and Ira all looked to each other, wide-eyed and panicked.
"Ah — he's here, isn't he?" the Emperor said. "The host of Deep Blue. A remnant of the power … it's calling to us now. How fascinating."
Ryou let out a sigh of relief. Aoyama had done it. He was able to trigger his power.
"Yes, he's here, Your Excellence," Tart offered. "You … you can meet him, if you'd like. The host."
"Maybe I will," the Emperor sighed. "First, I have my nephew to deal with. I will seek him out … just as soon as I have a bit more of my strength."
"Your Excellence," one of the guards blurted out — female, with a short and stocky build — "we're … I'm so sorry. I vow to never commit such an act again."
All three soldiers dropped their weapons, kneeled and placed a hand over their heart.
"All is forgiven," the Emperor said simply. "Send word to the others who were taking orders from Orion. Let them know the council is now 11 princes instead of 12."
The Emperor furrowed his brow. "Though, I recall … Quiche has been missing for several days. Are we sure the council is not down to 10?"
Ryou glanced nervously at Ira, Momo, Tart and Pudding. Tart fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and stared down at the floor. Ira locked her jaw, her face expressionless.
"We…" Ryou started hesitantly, "…we have reason to believe Quiche is already dead."
The Emperor nodded solemnly. He turned his focus to the soldiers in the room, who'd just begun to stand. "And you three have no information on the young prince's whereabouts?"
All three shook their heads. The woman who'd just spoken up said, "No, but … there are others who moved him somewhere else for security reasons a few days ago. We don't know where they took him."
"Very well," the Emperor said with a long sigh. "We'll count ourselves as a council of 10. Now, go and deliver my message to the others."
The three soldiers nodded, picked up their weapons and left the room. Ryou looked to Tart, who had his arms crossed into himself, his shoulders slumped and head lowered. Pudding had her hand on his back in comfort. Ryou could tell by Tart's expression that he was struggling not to cry.
"You, the young human man," the Emperor said suddenly. Ryou's focus snapped to the Emperor, who beckoned him closer with one hand.
Ryou walked over to the side of the bed, next to Ira. The Emperor squinted up at Ryou. "You're the young boy who created Tokyo Mew Mew, are you not?"
Ryou tried to hide his shock. "I—yes," Ryou replied. "I created the Mew Project."
"Mm, I thought I recognized you," the Emperor said with a heavy breath. "Your father … he was the one who began the Mew Project, was he not?"
Ryou's heart began to race. He felt his palms sweating. "Yes," he said breathlessly. "I took over for my father fifteen years ago."
"Your father… our society tracked the progress your family made for years. Your father's research heavily influenced our decision to build up our forces to attack Tokyo, under the guidance of Deep Blue.
"And yet, here we are … not as enemies, but friends," the Emperor murmured. He regarded Ryou with warmth and light, despite his icy blue eyes.
Years ago, Ryou would have given anything for the opportunity to end the life of this Emperor – the leader of the alien race his father had long studied as threats to civilization on Earth. But now, relations between their two planets were so different, even better than Ryou's father could have imagined. Everything had changed.
It was a new day. A new dawn of an era of peace between the two planets.
He knew his father would have wanted it this way.
So Ryou smiled and nodded.
"I look forward to working with you," Ryou said. "Together, as friends."
Ichigo dragged herself ashore and sputtered for breath. Her arms shook as she scrambled through the grass of the old palace's courtyard on the other end of the city. Zakuro was right behind her, then Berry, who had to be helped out of the water by the wolf girl. Berry coughed, her breath a slow wheeze as Zakuro pulled her back towards the safety of the courtyard gardens, concealing them from plain sight.
Mint landed behind them. She crouched low and scanned around the back half of the palace where her teammates struggled to catch their breath.
"We need to move," Mint hissed. "I think we may have been spotted."
"Easy for you to say," Ichigo choked out between coughs. Her lungs were sore, her throat burning from the river water she'd accidentally inhaled.
"Mint is right," Zakuro mutterd. "We need to go. Now. Move as much as your legs will allow." She pointed her chin up and over Ichigo's shoulder. "There's a door just ahead – behind that fruit tree."
Ichigo swallowed her frustrations and hauled herself to wobbling legs. She stumbled through the garden in an awkward crouch to the door. Thankfully, it appeared to be an older-style sliding door with a handle on it. Unfortunately, it was locked.
Ichigo pulled and pulled, but the door rattled in its place. She summoned her Strawberry Bell and took two steps back.
"Are you dumb?" Mint whispered, grabbing the weapon before Ichigo could fire. "You'll blow our cover!"
"Fine, then what do you want to do?" Ichigo hissed back. "We can't just waltz in through the front door of the old palace, and we need to hide!"
"Move," Zakuro commanded sternly. Ichigo blinked, stepping away from the door as Zakuro came forward.
Zakuro wordlessly turned to Mint, and took Mint's chin in one hand. With the other hand, she delicately plucked a pin from one of Mint's two perfectly-made hair buns. Mint looked on, speechless, her lips parted as her hair fell out on one side. Zakuro's fingers slipped from Mint's chin, and she turned her attention to the lock on the door. She began to work on the lock with the hairpin.
It wasn't more than five seconds before the door opened with a click.
Zakuro turned, nodded to the rest of the mews, and proceeded inside.
"That was … smooth," Berry whispered in fascination as the mews filed in behind Zakuro. Ichigo couldn't help but agree. Mint looked about as red as a tomato, but Ichigo thought better than to try to tease her.
Once they were inside, the smell of old textiles and metal brought Ichigo right back to the night of the Solstice Festival. It appeared as though the mews were in the east wing of the old palace. It was a mirror image of what Ichigo remembered the west wing looking like. Small, dusty rooms lined the dated-looking hallway. Plush, worn rugs ran up and down the floor they traveled on, mercifully masking the sound of their steps as the mews crept cautiously.
"Should we start our search for Quiche here, since we ended up here anyway?" Berry whispered as they moved along the wall. They paused every few doorways to listen for noise.
"I don't think they'd hide him here," Ichigo speculated. "This place is like an old mansion, with lots of little rooms, and old technology. Not somewhere that would be hard to break out of."
"It's going to be impossible to search the rooms without a guide, either way," Mint added. "Since we don't have Ira with us anymore, or Cici. One of them might be able to get us into these doors, but…" Mint's eyes trailed off to the tarnished keypads by the sliding doors they passed, "...it looks like we got lucky with the door outside."
Zakuro signaled to "hush" with one finger and motioned for the mews to back up into the doorway they had just passed. All four girls flattened their backs into the doorway and held their breath. Two voices spoke in Loq to each other down at the end of the hallway before fading into the distance. Ichigo exhaled slowly and peeled her sweaty back from the metal of the sliding door behind her.
"Cici or Ira … or, Pie or Tart ... will come find us," Ichigo offered in a whisper. "Cici and Ira saw us jump into the waterfall. They know the river ends here, by the palace. We just have to stay out of sight."
"Easier said than done," Mint muttered under her breath.
The mews continued to creep along the hall, peering down corridors and stopping every time they heard a sound. They had yet to find an unlocked room, and it felt like they were on borrowed time.
Ichigo's ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching on the black marble of the main foyer, down the fork to their right. She motioned wildly for the girls to hide in the door frame next to them. They flattened themselves into the small space and held their breath.
The footsteps stopped off to the right of the doorframe, just around the corner. Ichigo was nearly certain they'd been caught; she could hear the sound of her pounding heart in her ears. But then, Ichigo heard them turn, and begin to walk down the other direction on the carpeted hall.
Ichigo peered out from their hiding place just a hair, to judge how far away the person had gone down the opposite direction. The guard hadn't gotten too far – only about 15 paces. They were surly and tall, with a slow gait and a small sword at their side. The guard adjusted their belt, and the thin sword glinted in the light. The handle flashed and intricate design of winding roses … between the dance of dragon scales.
It was Quiche's dagger. Ichigo recognized it in an instant.
She lunged out of their hiding spot, but was quickly pulled back against the doorframe by her friends.
"What are you doing?!" Berry whispered fearfully.
"That guard has Quiche's dagger," Ichigo gasped. She pulled her arm out of Mint's grip to her left. "We need to go after him."
Her mind was racing, her muscles screaming at her to run after the guard. Ichigo peered around the corner of their hiding spot again, just in time to spot the guard inputting a key code next to a door. She pulled her head back and waited to hear a beep and a click.
Then, she took off.
Ichigo tore herself from the doorframe and out of her friends' grasp. She sprinted down the hallway, hearing the wind whistle in her ears, and tore around the corner of the halfway-closed door. She hurled herself inside, crashing into the back of the guard. She ripped the dagger from the guard's side as they both fell into the dark, windowless room. She vaguely registered a thump and a cuss word as her teammates wrestled the door open long enough to stumble in after her.
Ichigo held the dagger to the guard's neck, feeling the cool metal of the blade dig into their skin. Mint and Berry both rushed to either side of the guard, pinning their arms to the floor to keep them still.
"Where is he?!" Ichigo demanded. "Start talking!"
"I don't know what talking about," the guard hissed. It was a male voice – deep, and he was bad with Japanese.
"Where. Did. You. Get. This. Dagger?!" Ichigo said through clenched teeth. Blood began to bead on the edge of the blade pressed against the guard's neck. "I know who the owner is. Tell me where he is. Now."
The guard tilted his head to glare up at Ichigo with one hateful eye.
"Dead," he snarled. "Been dead a while."
Ichigo stilled. The adrenaline left her body in one breath, like it had been suddenly sucked from her lungs. Her hand began to tremble. The blade loosened in her grip. "You're lying," she said flatly.
"They told me his whore might try to return," the guard hissed. "You're too late, sweetie."
Mint twisted the guard's arm in retribution. He yowled in pain. "Shut up!" Mint demanded. "We don't believe you!"
The blade slipped from Ichigo's hands. Berry caught it and resumed holding it to the guard's neck as Ichigo felt her mind going numb. She stared into the middle distance and tried to wrap her mind around the guard's words.
Dead.
Been dead a while.
"If we were to find a body, where would it be?" Zakuro asked in a low, powerful tone.
The guard chuckled. "You don't believe? Stupid girls."
Zakuro snatched the dagger out of Berry's small, gloved hands and held it pointed between the guard's eyes. He flinched and craned his neck to look up at Zakuro. "I asked you a question," Zakuro snarled. "Where is the body? Quickly. You'll be incapacitated while we look. Lie, and you lose your life."
"Alright," the guard sighed gruffly. "Rotting below us."
"Elaborate," Zakuro demanded. She prodded the dagger into the skin of the guard's forehead.
"This, the old palace, has chimera labs … in the old prison," the guard muttered. "The prison goes deep, deep below these floors. I was to guard entry to it, to avoid recovery of traitor prince's body, but, seeing as … er, you are asking kindly …"
"Where is the entrance?"
The dagger's tip pressed deeper. A stream of blood began to flow down the guard's face.
"Doors in the floor," the guard grunted. "End of this hall. Back of palace."
Zakuro flipped the dagger in her palm and hit the guard over the head with it in a brutish thud. All of the mews startled backwards. The guard's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his body went limp on the ground.
"Someone help me stuff this guy into the closet in that wall," Zakuro muttered, nodding to the door off to her left.
Ichigo felt frozen in place as Berry and Mint went around her to quickly lift the body of the guard and drag him over to the closet door. She barely registered the sounds of them struggling to dump him into the small closet and close it behind them. Ichigo sat still on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her, staring into the wall ahead.
Dead for a while.
Too late.
The door of the closet slammed shut.
"Let's move," Mint instructed. "We might still have time."
Ichigo broke her blank stare to look up at her friend. "We're … too late…" she murmured weakly.
"No, we're not," Mint said sternly. "The guard is lying. Why would someone station a watch over a dead body deep in a prison no one would think to look in? It doesn't add up."
A spark of hope flickered in Ichigo's heart.
Zakuro nodded next to Mint. "We might still have time, but we need to move. We made too much noise just now, and now one of their guards is missing."
"Ichigo, are you okay?" Berry coaxed softly, coming over to Ichigo's side. "Can you stand?"
Ichigo nodded. She stood on shaking legs and rubbed the back of her arm across her brow. "I'm okay," she said weakly. The spark of hope began to burn brighter with the encouragement of her friends. "Let's go."
The group of mews cautiously pressed the button to open the door, checked that the coast was clear, and hurried back down the other direction of the empty hallway. Ichigo's pace grew faster and faster with every step, until she was nearly running. If the guard was telling the truth after all, she would hardly believe their luck — that they'd ended up in the exact place in the city to search. Whether it was fate or just dumb luck, Ichigo could only hope whatever force had put them in the old palace was merciful enough to keep Quiche alive.
When she finally reached the end of the hall, Ichigo looked down and saw a newer-looking rug had been placed over the worn, older design beneath it. Ichigo dragged the newer rug up and tossed it behind her, revealing a set of double trap doors in the floor. Without hesitation, she reached down and pulled.
The doors squeaked open with a tremendous noise. Ichigo had no time to cringe; only to throw herself down the metal staircase lit up by what appeared to be bioluminescent light. The mews quickly followed, and Zakuro closed the creaking doors behind them, shrouding them in the eerie, bluish-green glow.
Ichigo realized the light was coming from rows and rows of glowing, tube-shaped tanks — tanks holding chimera parasites of all shapes and sizes, floating in containers like jellyfish at an aquarium. Facing the tanks, file cabinets and miscellaneous desk-like surfaces were covered in stacks of paper, small electronics and folders.
It didn't look abandoned — in fact, the air was only slightly stale, and the cabinets closest to Ichigo lacked dust.
"We need to go lower," Ichigo said on instinct. She glanced down the stairwell. It was hard to tell how deep the structure went. "This is too close to the surface for them to hide something."
"You're right," Mint said. "Let's keep going."
The mews quickly descended staircase after staircase, pausing at each level to run up and down the hall to check the abandoned cells between scientific equipment. Some of the levels of the abandoned prison had tanks housing specimens for chimeras — not all parasites. Some appeared to contain small, dead animals or insects that made Ichigo feel even more sick to her stomach. One level — the fourth down — had rows and rows of what appeared to be server towers, blinking with light and whirring in an electronic hum.
"One more level," Mint muttered as they finished searching the fourth level. "This has to be it."
They clamoured down the last metal staircase and down to the last level of the abandoned prison. This level had a small cluster of dusty cabinets off to one side, but not much else. It truly felt like it hadn't been touched in years. The lack of bioluminescence and its distance from the surface made it darker, mustier than the other levels of the prison.
Something in Ichigo's gut twisted in fear. A horrible feeling passed down her spine as she put one foot forward, then another, then another. Her pace quickened when she realized with wide eyes that one of the last doors on the left was closed.
She broke into a dead sprint, skidding to a stop in front of the rusted cell door.
There was a figure inside, slumped on the back wall.
Not moving.
Ichigo's blood ran cold. She dropped to her knees, searching the cell for any sign of movement. Her friends caught up to her, and Ichigo frantically whirled around with wide eyes, searching for Zakuro. "Open the door!" Ichigo screamed at her desperately.
Zakuro looked between Ichigo and the lock. "Ichigo, this lock isn't a common door lock, I can't—"
"Get back!" Mint interjected. Ichigo scrambled back on her hands as Mint summoned her bow and aimed it at the lock. Zakuro and Berry took two steps back.
"Ribbon Mint Echo!"
The attack slammed into the lock with a booming force, blowing the mechanics into shrapnel that ricocheted off the walls and fell to the ground. The door flew open at the impact; the light hadn't even died from Mint's attack before Ichigo rushed inside.
She was right — it was Quiche.
She hardly recognized him at first.
His head hung limply; his hair was loose, and an oily, disheveled mess. His clothes had been torn, and his abdomen was crusted with dark, dried blood. Ichigo realized with a start that one of his legs was bent in an unnatural way.
Ichigo began to feel hot, wet tears form in the corners of her eyes as she dropped to her knees and took his face in her hands. His head lolled in her grip — lifeless, with no support from his neck. She only vaguely registered Zakuro coming up behind her and beginning to work on unlocking the shackles pinning him against the wall.
Ichigo moved her hands down to where his jaw met his neck. She forced herself to calm down, willed her hands to stop shaking just long enough to feel a pulse.
A pulse.
"He's alive," Ichigo croaked, her throat in a knot. "Oh god, oh no … Quiche, you have to wake up."
Miraculously, there was a click, and Zakuro managed to free one of Quiche's hands. His arm dropped limply at his side, and he fell forward enough for Ichigo to see that his shoulder had been completely mutilated. The texture of his skin was like raw hamburger.
Ichigo felt like she was going to puke.
Instead, she focused her attention on rubbing the sides of Quiche's face with her thumbs, desperate for any sign of consciousness. "Quiche, come on, wake up. It's Ichigo," she pleaded. "We need to get … to get you help."
She searched for any signs of life — for some movement, but there was nothing.
Another click, and his limp body fell forward as his other arm came free from the wall. Ichigo caught him in her arms. His back was sticky in her gloved hands — from blood or sweat, she didn't know.
"Is he awake?" Berry called from where she stood watch at the cell door.
"No," Mint called back. "But we have a pulse."
Ichigo vaguely registered them exchanging more hushed words, but all she could focus on was the horror of knowing Quiche was completely unresponsive. She struggled to turn his body awkwardly in her arms, and lay him down on the floor of the cell. Mint helped Ichigo reposition his legs so he laid completely flat.
When Mint grabbed hold of his twisted leg, Ichigo heard a low groan. Her focus snapped to Quiche, whose face convulsed in pain.
Her first sign of consciousness.
Mint took her hand off of his leg immediately. Ichigo leaned over Quiche, "Quiche, can you hear me? It's Ichigo. We're going to get you help."
One of his eyebrows twitched. His eyes screwed shut a bit tighter. Then, his dry, cracked lips parted and one bloodshot eye cracked open just slightly.
His meager eyesight found Ichigo immediately. It appeared as if he was trying to swallow something in his throat, and failing. His one open eye has trouble focusing; his iris wandered as if his center of balance wasn't quite calibrated.
He was weaker than Ichigo thought. She didn't know how they were going to safely get him out of the old palace. There was no way he had the strength to teleport himself out. He was about the same size as Zakuro; if they needed to carry him to the surface, it would take at least two of them to maneuver him to safety. And they still had no idea whether he'd broken something in his neck or back. If he had, Ichigo knew they couldn't move him at all, lest they risk even more severe damage.
Their options were rapidly dwindling. Ichigo held tight to the last scraps of hope as she addressed Quiche again: "It's okay now. We're getting you out of here."
Quiche's open eye shut again. His brow creased. With a wheezing whisper, he spoke.
"You… came back."
It was barely audible; a ghost of his voice. Something in Ichigo shattered at the sound of it. His first words to her, after undergoing everything he'd been through, his body beaten and mutilated for days — he didn't know if she would come back.
"Of course I came back," she choked out. She gingerly brushed his hair from his brow. "And now you're coming with me. Okay?"
"Mm," Quiche groaned. His face strained as he wheezed: "You need … to leave. Orion is … he'll…"
"No," Ichigo said firmly, "no, I'm not leaving without you. We're going to get you help."
Quiche wasn't reopening his eyes. Ichigo felt panic rising in her chest. She found it hard to breathe deeply. Her lungs felt constricted and cold with fear.
Then, she felt a touch on her hand. She looked down, and the pinkie of Quiche's limp hand had found hers. She looked up at him, and a ghost of a smile pulled at his lips.
"I'm…" he started in a wheeze, his voice just barely cracking through a whisper, "just happy you … you were … with me. Ju— just… one last time."
Hot, wet tears began to fall down Ichigo's face as the full weight of the moment began to crush her. There was no Mew Aqua this time. No miracle healing salve, and their time was out. It was clear Quiche didn't have much longer to live, and there wasn't anyone coming to save him.
He knew it, too. Maybe even before she did.
She was reminded of when Quiche had sacrificed himself in the battle against Deep Blue. She remembered the feeling of him going limp in her arms, the light falling out of his eyes. She didn't think she'd ever have to experience anything like that ever again. She didn't think she'd ever have to relive the suffering of seeing him die. And now that it was happening again in front of her, every second seemed too precious as time slipped mercilessly by.
As the memory played in her head, a thought snapped her out of her spiral like a match in the dark.
After Quiche died protecting her … and Masaya stabbed himself to prevent Deep Blue from taking over his body …
Ichigo wasn't able to save Quiche. But, she was able to save Masaya.
By giving up all of herself. Every ounce of her power as a mew.
The last option left.
Determination flooded through Ichigo as she felt herself calling to the wildcat that nestled deep within her subconsciousness; the root of her power. She felt a surge of energy rush through her chest at the thought of what she was about to do.
When she'd given Masaya all of her power during the death of Deep Blue, she felt herself descend fully into darkness. She wasn't sure she could control the amount of power she was about to use, and by the looks of it, Quiche was hurt even worse than Masaya had been. She didn't even know if her power would take to Quiche the same way it helped Masaya. After all, the alien race was what she'd been programmed to fight from the start.
Would the power of the Earth living inside her even recognize Quiche as a vessel worth healing, when her power had been programmed to fight him?
But Ichigo didn't care how dangerous it was. She had to try.
"No," Ichigo said firmly. She could feel warmth emanating from her chest as the tears continued to stream down her face. She felt something leap in her stomach as she continued to call out to the light, the root of her power nestled deep within her soul. "You aren't going to die. I'm not going to let you."
Ichigo tore both of her red gloves from her hands, and placed them on either side of Quiche's face. His skin was freezing to the touch, but she reveled in feeling skin on skin. She closed her eyes and focused on calling to the power of the cat inside of her, coaxing it from her chest with every fiber of focus she had left in her mind. She could see behind her eyelids that the cell around her was beginning to glow with a pulsing, warm light.
"Ichigo," Mint called out warily, "you can't— you're not—"
"What's happening?" Berry cried out on the other side of the cell.
"Ichigo is … exerting all of her power as a mew," Zakuro said solemnly.
When Ichigo finally opened her eyes, the whole room was flooded with a soft, white light that emanated from her like a scene from a dream. She could feel the wildcat leaping in her chest, awake and alert as she turned her focus back to Quiche.
He'd managed to crack both eyes open now, watching her with a bleary focus she hardly recognized. Ichigo knew time was nearly up. She caressed his face with her hands and drew closer. She smiled weakly, and let out a long, calming breath.
"I'm not going to let you die," she whispered. "Because I love you."
Then, she leaned in and kissed him.
Immediately, she felt her power begin to leave her with the fury of a wave crashing ashore. The cat lept from her chest, and Ichigo felt her power begin to dance in the space between their souls. It took all of her energy not to pull away; the feeling of shock, the feeling of every ounce of energy being sucked out of her muscles made Ichigo want to scream. But she knew from doing the same with Masaya that she needed to hang on. Quiche needed every ounce of power she could give.
And he was taking all of it.
It felt like the skin was being torn from her muscles. Every nerve ending felt like it was being pulled and squeezed towards him as her power continued to leave her body in a relentless surge. It was only when it felt like the surge was sputtering, weakening — like there wasn't anything left in her to give — that Ichigo gave one last push of energy down through their connection before tearing away from him.
She sat up with a start, gasping for air as the light around them began to die. Her head felt like it was full of helium. Her eyesight was blurry, and she had a hard time figuring out which way was up.
She leaned into the heels of her palms and steadied herself. Her dazed eyes roamed around the room before finally focusing in on Quiche.
The life was back in his face; his breathing, normal. She could see her remaining power finishing the last touches on sewing the lesion in his stomach.
Ichigo's eyes felt like they were drifting in their sockets. Her tired muscles began to shake under her own weight. Her very bones felt empty, as if she'd spent the very last bit of energy left in her.
But when Quiche drew a heavy breath and opened his eyes, it was worth it to see his golden gaze staring up at her. Fully aware. Full of life.
"You're…" Ichigo started, "…okay."
She smiled weakly, and felt her arms buckle under her.
She wanted to be present. She wanted so badly to find the strength in her to stay here, in that moment with him. She wanted to be able to make it out of the old palace together.
She didn't want to go. Not now. Not after everything.
Ichigo swallowed one last gasp of air before the world folded in around her. Mercilessly, quietly, her last bit of energy went out like a candle in the night.
As soon as Ichigo began to fall, Quiche bolted upright and snatched her out of midair. He was half-expecting his body to shriek in pain at the sudden movement but, miraculously, whatever Ichigo had done made it so that his strength was back in spades.
Panicked and alive with adrenaline, he held her to his chest and surveyed the cell.
Zakuro. Mint. And Berry. Great, he thought. The three I know the least.
"Does someone want to explain what the hell is going on?" Quiche barked, glancing between the mews and Ichigo's lifeless features.
"What, you think we owe you the explanation here?" Mint fired back. She marched over to where he was sitting up, with Ichigo in his lap. "Get her pulse, you arrogant prick. The least you can do is make yourself useful after we came all the way from Earth to find you."
Quiche glared daggers at Mint as he carefully felt along Ichigo's neck.
There was a pulse. Light, and fast.
Thank god.
"She's got a pulse," Quiche muttered. "Now someone tell me how the hell we wake her up from whatever it was she just did."
Berry trotted over to where they were gathered. "Maybe try pinching her?" she suggested.
"What Ichigo just did wasn't just normal overexertion," Zakuro interjected. She stood off to the side with her arms crossed, looking on solemnly. "I remember she's done this before. She sunk all of her power into Aoyama after he stabbed himself to prevent the return of Deep Blue."
Quiche knocked his jaw back and forth in frustration. He replayed the memories of after Deep Blue's awakening in his mind. The minutes after he'd been resurrected through the power of Mew Aqua. "So what then?" he prodded. "How did our favorite lord and savior of the Earth manage to get her awake again?"
"I don't know," Zakuro replied.
"But we can ask," Mint interjected, turning from Zakuro to Quiche. "He's here, on this planet."
"What?!" Quiche exclaimed. "Whose idea was it to bring him with you?"
"His idea," Mint snapped. "He's here to pose as the voice of Deep Blue, to convince the Deep Blue loyalists and defectors to stand down."
Quiche began to put the pieces together. Admittedly, it was a brilliant idea. Risky, but done right, placing Aoyama directly in front of the defectors…
"I'll admit, I'm impressed," Quiche mumbled. "Maybe he's good for something other than being an emotional sack of dead weight. Now, where is he?"
"We have a planned rendezvous point," Zakuro answered. She pulled something from the back of her costume.
Quiche's dagger.
It glinted just slightly in the dim light as she passed it to him.
"Ichigo spotted this on a guard. It's how we found you," Zakuro offered. "I figured you'd want it back before we go."
Quiche slipped the weapon from Zakuro's fingers, and looked down at Ichigo's body, still slumped in his arms.
She'd come all this way. For him.
She came back for him after all.
And he'd be damned if he didn't make it count.
Quiche waved the dagger in the air to dismiss it away, at least for the time being. "Do you think you can teleport?" Berry asked him.
"Yes," Quiche answered carefully. He slowly, carefully shifted his weight and drew Ichigo up in his arms with him. He floated up from the ground and set himself back down on his feet.
He grimaced in pain. His left ankle still hurt when he put weight on it. He resorted to floating slightly off the ground instead as he scanned the reactions of the mews.
Zakuro stood with her arms crossed, assessing his every movement like a wolf stalking its prey. Mint placed her hands on her hips, glaring between him and Ichigo with an accusing scowl. And Berry looked nervous, pinching the ends of her gloves and biting her lip as if she was waiting for him to lash out at them.
Quiche let out a long breath of air. His lungs felt light, and full of warmth. His skin felt like it was glowing, almost like it had on his first sunny day on Earth. Something about the energy flowing through him made him want to laugh in bliss.
But he knew the happy energy flowing through his body wasn't his.
With Ichigo held tightly in his arms, Quiche nodded to her friends and said: "Thank you."
He paused, glancing down at the lifeless face of the girl who'd saved his life.
In the painful final moments before his body was flooded with her power, Quiche had felt like he was underwater, just barely hanging on to the last thread of consciousness above the waves. In those final moments, his vision was filled with a bright, white light. He thought he heard…
Did I imagine … that she said…
He put the thought out of his head. This was no time to speculate on something he heard in a state of delirium. All that mattered was figuring out how to put life back into Ichigo's body.
Then, once he brought her back …
He still had Orion to deal with.
Adrenaline coursed through Quiche's veins, joining with the gift of Ichigo's power to form a powerful rage, a trembling fury that clawed at the pit of his stomach. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for Orion's betrayal. The torment, the suffering, the feeling of his own body rotting around him. And finally, Ichigo's power, drained to repair his broken state and drag him back from the clutches of death.
He gripped Ichigo tighter in his arms.
Quiche was alive.
And there was going to be hell to pay.