Petit Fours
an anthology of four Tokyo Mew Mew short stories
by Cooking Spray
Disclaimer: Insert general disclaimer here. Or go read another Tokyo Mew Mew fan fiction's disclaimer.
Well, here we are, just past the one-year anniversary of this anthology and just now is it in completion. Sorry, kept getting distracted by shiny things! Anyhow, I hope this was well worth the wait. It was originally intended to be a chapter story, but I didn't feel up to the task, so it ended up here. I think it works best in vignette format, anyhow.
This is a slightly dark and altogether angsty tale, which is an alternate ending to the final showdown with Deep Blue. Many hints at the beginnings of Quiche/Ichigo. Enjoy!
Morsel Four:
Apocalypse
A dull ache stirred her consciousness, and she pushed through layers of sleep to meet it, aroused from a deep forced slumber. Her eyelashes fluttered and she elicited a soft moan as her awareness began to flow back to her. At once a feeling of discomfort settled in, caused by tender new bruises and the stiffness of sore muscles from hours of fighting. Fighting . . .
Momomiya Ichigo's eyes at last flounced open, her mind disoriented from her indefinite period of rest. Her vision was blurry and distorted, and every small movement shot a searing pain throughout her body. She forced herself up on her elbows, fingers grasping handfuls of rubble. Wait . . . rubble?
And then the memories assailed her. Aoyama-kun . . . the transformation into Deep Blue . . . she and the other Mew Mews had followed him into the sky to find the last Mew Aqua. And then . . . Quiche's sacrifice, Aoyama-kun placing her into a bubble for protection, Deep Blue about to destroy Tokyo . . .
She stopped cold as she surveyed her surroundings, eyesight suddenly unhindered. Her mind stumbled over those last words. No . . . no . . .
An enormous wave of power, she recollected. Deep Blue's cold laughter . . . and then, nothing. She must've blacked out then. Which meant . . .
She had failed. Her friends, her parents, everyone . . . she had let them down. And worst of all, she would never be able to apologize, because they were gone. Earth was now property of the aliens. And Aoyama-kun . . . Aoyama-kun . . .
Ichigo crumpled; dazed, nauseated. She should have been feeling so many emotions, but instead she was oddly numb. This . . . all of this . . . everything around her . . . it must just be some sort of nightmare, just a fabrication of the imagination. And when she woke up, everything would be fine again . . .
But some corner of her mind knew these were just pale excuses to avoid having to believe the reality of the situation.
She sat there in a stupor a while longer before coming to her senses. There was no value to mourning, she had to get up on her feet and do something. Besides, if Deep Blue really had successfully conquered Tokyo . . . she couldn't waste time loitering around. Slowly, with effort due to her protesting muscles, she stood, banishing from mind the sudden churning grief and self-hate in her mind. She forced anger into her steps to keep her moving, to keep from dwelling on even more depressing thoughts.
She trudged blindly through the wreckage of Deep Blue's wrath, not knowing what she hoped to find. If the Tokyo Continental Renaissance had been fulfilled, what was there to salvage? She noticed then with a twinge of irony that sometime during the duration she'd been unconscious she'd reverted to her human state, and was now attired in a rumpled edition of her school uniform. Former school uniform, she reminded herself. Education would be the least of her worries if she survived all of this. In addition, in her current state. . . she did not think she could summon the energy to transform.
Perfect. She was alone and helpless in the lair of an enemy.
And then, after a few more seconds of careless stumbling, she approached a hunched figure on the floor, lying amidst heaps of crumbled stone, motionless. Ichigo's brown eyes widened in true shock for a moment. Another survivor? It seemed impossible . . . Once again she cursed Aoyama for saving only her, protecting her while the walls of her home crumbled and everyone dear to her faded. She deserved to be wherever they were; she was no better, no more useful than any one of them. It wasn't fair!
She choked down angry tears, instead approaching the figure before her. Deal with the present, now. All other things can come later. When she was only about a stride away, she gasped suddenly in horror, dropping to her knees.
Quiche. There was another person who gotten hurt because of her. He'd been her foe up until a few hours ago . . . when he defied his entire race and stood against Deep Blue. Stood against him and gave his life. He sacrificed his existence to protect her, because of his love for her . . . She bit her lip, eyes becoming glossy. He didn't deserve to die like he had. She reached out to touch the bare skin of his neck, trying not to let the tears overflow. . .
Maybe it was sentimentality that made her reach out that hand. Maybe it was the lingering hope that his memory could somehow console her . . . whatever the case, when her fingers made contact with Quiche's flesh, she withdrew sharply with shock.
There was a pulse.
It was faint, barely there, but it was a pulse. All of a sudden, things made sense. How could she have been so careless? When Quiche had collapsed in her arms after being defeated by Deep Blue, she'd naturally assumed he had died, but she never did check for his pulse. And then Aoyama had re-emerged. . . She stood, a swell of confidence building. She knew what she must now do. If she was correct in thinking that she was the last of the human race . . . And Quiche had most probably already or would be disowned by his own kind once his betrayal had been discovered. Both of them had had their scruples with each other in the past, but when the fate of the world was at stake, such matters took a backseat. Besides, after what he had done for her, she owed him at least this much.
Without taking a moment to consider her actions or even really realize what she was doing, she summoned all of her power, focusing it and letting it grow and encompass her. Her whole body began to emit a pink aura, steadily growing brighter, and her clothing was discarded, replaced by the familiar cat ears and tail. Ichigo gritted her teeth against the physical strain, a droplet of sweat sliding down her brow. In her current condition, performing magic was dangerous . . . but in the end, she'd die anyway. She had nothing to lose by trying.
Quiche's body had began to levitate towards the hovering Mew Mew, the light surrounding her now almost at a blinding intensity. Just when the black spots began to dance in the corners of her vision, she released all of the energy she had built up into Quiche, hoping against hope that it was enough.
The result was about as effective as electric shock therapy. In an instant the comatose alien shot up, gasping and sputtering. Ichigo, completely drained, fell into a heap beside him, Irimote cat genes fading from dominance and school fuku donned once more. Quiche's hands went instantly to his forehead, searching for the wound Deep Blue had created there. Instead, he found nothing. Incredulously, he examined the rest of his body, discovering all of the nicks and gashes there were gone as well. All that remained to serve his memory of the battle was a faint ache and stiffness in his muscles. And a warmth at his side. . .
He jerked his head around to find Ichigo sprawled out beside him with disbelieving wonder, for some reason wearing her normal school attire. A cold lump of dread formed in the pit of his stomach. "Ichigo?" No response. "ICHIGO!" He seized her roughly by one shoulder and shook, heart pounding. Please answer me. . .
"Mmmmph. . .mmmmm. . ." Relief was written heavily in his expression. Good, she was alive. That was the most important thing. With some assistance from whatever strength she had left, Quiche managed to maneuver Ichigo onto her back. Her eyes were squinted closed, expression pensive and pained, and beads of sweat had gathered on her forehead. She had a sense of deja'vu as she once again pushed herself through layers of the unconsciousness that threatened to overcome her weakened body. But when she tried to open her eyes, her world lurched sickeningly, and she was forced to shut them again. It was completely honest to say she was too weak to move.
Quiche seemed to deduce that, if he didn't know all the details. Of course she'd be exhausted after having to fight Deep Blue. However, why he had been healed and why they were surrounded by ruins was a mystery. He had no idea how much time had passed when he was in his coma, but things certainly did not feel right. No one was celebrating. . . He almost laughed. The Quiche of a day ago would never have wished for the Mew Mews' victory, but now . . . well, even though he felt partly responsible for aiding in the revival of Deep Blue, he had decided that Ichigo was his top priority, something he didn't assume he could go back on. He smiled absently at the redhead beside him. He still stood by that decision.
Ichigo first, facts later, he resolved, giving his full attention to the obviously physically distressed girl still huddled among the rubble on the floor. He was terribly uninformed about the situation, but if he could bring Ichigo to at least talking capability, he could remedy that situation. He sensed her struggle and exhaustion, and guessed she was suffering some level of paralysis. Sighing, he gathered a little of his power, enough to allow her to have free movement of her body again, and extended it to her.
Ichigo relaxed under the energy Quiche had leant her, its feel warm and mysterious with just a slight edge of menace. The sensation was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. She shuffled into a sitting position, as to not expend her energy, massaging her temples and running a hand through her hair. "Ugh. . ." She opened her eyes and waited for them to adjust, once again familiarizing herself with the world. What was left of it, that is.
"Ichigo. . ." Quiche's feline amber eyes betrayed none of his concern. "What happened?"
"Long story," she replied in a tone that might've been described as sarcastic. Sarcasm? That threw Quiche. It was not in Ichigo's character description to be depressed.
"Did. . ." he began tentatively, ". . . did Deep Blue succeed?" He both dreaded and anticipated the answer.
She turned away from him, expression masked by shadow on her face. "Yes," came the tight response, after some time. Her alien accomplice probed no further, sensing her anguish. He had suspected that ever since he had awakened . . . she had just confirmed his sinking suspicions.
After a while, he tried again. He knew asking a lot of questions was hard on Ichigo, who must've been grieving . . . but he had to get to the bottom of everything. He needed answers, and Ichigo was the only one around to provide him with them. "How did I . . . how am I alive? Why are my scars gone?"
She turned to him again, red tendrils of hair swishing at the motion. Her tension seemed to be gone for the moment, which was an improvement. "I woke up on the floor here, and I was walking around trying to find someone, anyone . . . " She broke off. "I found you lying on the ground, and you had a pulse, so . . . I revived you the best I could with my powers." Her round, expressive eyes became mournful. "Quiche, we might be the last people left."
Quiche was stunned. She'd revived him? He felt his heartbeat skip a little. It shouldn't be so surprising, he reminded himself, Ichigo was a very trusting and forgiving person, but . . . it touched him that'd she'd go through such lengths to protect the sake of someone who had been her nemesis just hours ago. It explained why she had been collapsed beside him when he woke up, and yet, he felt a sense of guilt. Perhaps she felt like she owed him, what for he couldn't possibly think of. . . whatever the case, he wasn't complaining. This new feeling of friendliness between the both of them was serving as more than just compensation at the moment.
"The last people left?" Her eyes were still upon him, so he decided he'd have to lay aside his emotions for the time being and concentrate on the situation at hand.
Ichigo nodded. "When . . . Aoyama-kun . . . was taken over by Deep Blue for the last time, he couldn't . . . couldn't fight him off." The remorse in her voice was audible. "Aoyama-kun . . . placed me in a bubble made of his powers to protect me. It wasn't fair. He wanted me to be safe, but . . . I saw Deep Blue regain control of him, and then he began the destruction. And then I must've blacked out, because I don't remember anything else. I woke up here, and I think what happened was pretty obvious." She lowered her eyes, voice choked. "I couldn't save anyone! If only I'd been able to be free, this wouldn't have happened . . ." She sat with her head bent, trembling for a few minutes, trying to contain her lament.
Quiche watched, feeling decidedly helpless but immensely pitiful for his strawberry. He searched for the right thing to say. "It wasn't your fault," the alien said quietly. "Aoyama was the one who placed you in that bubble. There was nothing you could do. He wanted to protect you. Maybe he knew that right then you wouldn't have been strong enough to defeat Deep Blue, but if you survived through the destruction . . . the world might have a chance."
The sniffling redhead turned her gaze to him then, chocolate eyes wide and glistening with tears. Quiche almost melted. "I'd never thought of it that way. . ." A soft sob escaped her lips and she threw herself into her green-haired companion, to his complete stupefaction. She cried openly, without suppression, into his chest, oddly comforted by his presence. Quiche was unsure of what would be proper to do, but he wasn't complaining about the sudden turn of events. After a while, he settled for stroking her hair, which seemed to be appropriate, because she seemed to cry more softly. Things were happing in such a dizzying pace, and in so short a time, that he felt dazed. But, if the future held any more moments like the one in motion, it couldn't be entirely without hope.
Ichigo pulled away suddenly, furiously wiping all signs of her breakdown from her eyes, a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry! I'm probably being such an annoyance to you . . . Your feelings, I didn't even consider them, and . . . Oh! Look, I've even gotten your shirt wet . . . I'm being so careless . . ." She continued to brush away tears with a nervous fervor, refusing to look at Quiche. In her current confused state, her utterances were not unlike those of a certain green-haired girl's they'd both used to know . . .
Quiche's lips weaved themselves into a slightly ironic smile. "After everything that's happened, I believe wet shirts are the least of our problems." Ichigo nodded in relief, glad she hadn't ruined the atmosphere between them, giving a laugh heavily accented by residual tears. Quiche's smile grew as he watched her. Although he didn't say so, he was internally gleeful that she trusted him enough to be so open with him. And that he'd been able to hold her so close . . . However, he didn't think that would be an appropriate comment to make at the moment.
Ichigo's weeping had subsided to just an occasional sniff, and she felt greatly relieved to have released some of her stress and grief. The incident also left her feeling just a little bit hollow and drained, though. She'd only just slept, but in a short amount of time she'd used a lot of magic and was already physically strained. She knew she'd have to rest soon, or risk passing out again. But how safe was it to sleep now? The thought of it made her shiver, it still seemed impossible . . . although she knew fully well it was true.
Quiche was satisfied that he'd been able to console Ichigo, or, more aptly phrased, completely overjoyed. To avoid becoming a grinning idiot in a situation where it might earn him a lump on the head, he abruptly rose up and stretched, hovering leisurely a few feet above Ichigo as it felt natural for him to do. She gazed up at him, not sure of her ability to stand herself, and couldn't help but feel intimidated. The position was all-too familiar, reminiscent of a time when the both of them were not as civil to each other as they were now. And it reminded her of just how powerful Quiche really was . . . She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts. She didn't feel completely comfortable with her green-haired accomplice just yet, and the kindness between them was something that had evolved over the past few hours, but she was confident he would not hurt her.
Just as both were ending their musings with similar feelings of triumph, an echo of voices sounded from the nearby stairs, causing both to freeze.
"You say the body of the traitor lay in this room, Your Majesty?"
"Yes." The voice was cold and dark, causing Ichigo to shiver involuntarily. Her heart was hammering. They'd be found! And her legs still weren't fully functioning . . .
The footsteps grew closer. Ichigo's breath caught in her chest. "Quiche . . ." she whispered, voice tiny and fearful.
There was little time to think. Quiche snapped out of his trance, and, taking one look at Ichigo's condition, scooped her up in her arms before she could protest. Setting his sights on a large chunk of stone that had fallen nearby, he steered both of them toward it, just as the double doors swung open.
Ichigo gasped, forgetting the fact that she was huddled against Quiche's chest. His hair was impossibly ebony, spilling all around him. His face was strikingly beautiful, skin pale . . . but his eyes, they were as cold and emotionless as the depths of the ocean . . .
"Deep Blue-sama . . ." Quiche breathed, both of their eyes wide and mesmerized.
He strode with elegance and fierce purpose, trenchcoat sweeping the ground and giving the impression of gliding. His demeanor remained unchanged, and the only indication of any sort of emotion was found in his eyes, which Ichigo could not bear to look into. Fear consumed her, and also sorrow and anger . . . this entity, he had destroyed her world, corrupted her love, and would not hesitate to do it again. And for this, he frightened her to an extent she'd never experienced, one that made the very blood in her veins run cold, constricted her breath, and made her lightheaded and dazed.
Behind the newly ascended messiah was a following of Quiche's kind, standing stiffly and nervously in attire that Ichigo assumed bore the royal insignia. Members of the alien government? They watched with darting eyes and fidgeting bodies as their leader navigated the wreckage for something he would not likely find, at least not in the state he wanted it to be in. Ichigo and Quiche held their breath.
"Where is he? I know the filthy traitor was murdered here, I have seen his lifeless body, his blood on my hands . . ." Deep Blue's voice was like venom, sharp enough to cut.
"I-I don't know, Your Majesty . . ."
He whirled around, face contorted in a horrible snarl of anger. "The corpse has moved . . . which means it is not yet a corpse . . ."
Ichigo reflexively clutched at Quiche's shirt, who was still holding her. Normally, she would have complained, but any sort of movement now would call attention to their location. In addition, she still couldn't move her legs, and if they needed to move quickly, Quiche was her only ticket out. She hated feeling useless again, but it couldn't be remedied. Deep Blue was looking for a body he would never find . . . a body that, if it was found, was still living and breathing. Either way, he'd know they were still alive, and sooner or later they'd have to make a getaway.
Deep Blue was now very close to their hiding place. Ichigo held her breath again, to avoid making noise, and squeezed her eyes shut. Quiche . . . what are we going to do? Is it the end for us anyway? She braced herself, waiting for the heart-lurching moment in which those emotionless, almost arctic eyes would lock with hers, trying without success to calm her nerves. It was astounding to her, on a purely rational level, that she was still struggling to survive in such a hopeless situation, especially when she was so weak that it seemed senseless. But to want to preserve your existence is an inherent part of human nature, and Ichigo was reacting in the only way she knew how.
The footsteps shuffled even closer, and became more cautious. It appeared Deep Blue had sensed something. Ichigo tightened her vice on the fabric of her newfound ally, and also lifeline, if you wanted to go that far. She felt a surge of energy and noticed that a pulsing, yellow-orange light had gathered in Quiche's hand. His every muscle was tense, his jaw clenched and expression hard. He was ready to fight if he had to.
And then, in a swirl of deft movement so sudden and dexterous that you would've missed it by blinking, they were staring into the face of the one terrifying person they'd hoped most to evade. The dimmest flicker of surprise flitted across his face when he discovered Ichigo, but he recovered quickly, and his expression twisted into a one of rage.
"Here lies the traitor! Seize him! Seize him and the girl!" the monarch bellowed, lunging for both of them. Guards immediately began to scramble toward the apex of the action obediently, weapons drawn.
That was all Quiche needed. Not allowing Deep Blue to follow through with his execution attempt, he shot up into the air, simultaneously lobbing the raw energy he'd gathered in his hand earlier. It may not have been more than a diversionary tactic, but they needed as much distance between them and Deep Blue as they could get. Just a glance told him that the royal army would pose no serious threat, so he didn't waste time or energy in combat with them. They'd be lucky if they kept up, anyhow.
"Hold on tight!" he shouted to his red-haired accomplice, and she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly and burrowed her face into his chest, hoping against hope that they'd get out of all of this alive.
And with that, Quiche jetted off through the air as fast as he possibly could, heading straight for the exit and ignoring the orders Deep Blue was spewing in fiery tones behind him. He knew that the messiah himself would be after them soon enough, anyhow, once he became frustrated with the incompetence of the royal army. Once out in the hallway, a gathering of guards began to rise up and block their path, but Quiche shoved past them and sent a few more blasts of energy over his shoulder to keep them busy.
There was a light at the end of the tunnel, one that Quiche knew to be the central dome of the royal place. He sped up even more, causing Ichigo to curl even closer to him, but he didn't have time to enjoy the sensation. His mission right now was their safe escape, which was enough to contend with without complicating the situation with his feelings for his partner in so-called crime.
The spacious and circular dome room appeared around them in all its grandiose architecture, but neither were concentrated on such things at the moment. Quiche headed straight up, towards the top of the dome and the view of the overcast skies beyond. Deep Blue and the royal army were probably hot on their heels, if not already one step ahead of them. But thinking like that would do neither of them any good. When he was in range, Quiche aimed an energy blast at glass encasing the dome, creating a satisfying shower. He ducked away from the falling debris and then sailed through the opening he had made. The heat and humidity, even with the impending rain, was instantly shocking.
Quiche dawdled not for a second. They were out of the palace, but they were not out of danger. Any moment now, someone would show up to oppose them. It had been way too easy thus far. And Quiche had a sickening feeling who that person would be. . .
He looked down at Ichigo, still holding onto to him for dear life. Which was interesting, because he'd heard somewhere that cats always managed to land on their feet. . . He shook his head. Not now. "Are you alright?"
"I think so!" The wind that was rushing past the both of them was muffling their speech. "Are we safe yet?"
"Not yet." Quiche centered his vision dead ahead, and, as if somehow conjured by his words, a familiar but not at all welcomed figure came into view. Of course.
"Keep close to me," he whispered, and Ichigo couldn't help but feel a shiver of fright, despite the stifling heat. He's here.
"How unfortunate that we cross paths yet again," the monarch intoned with surreal calm. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to terminate you once again. You and your friend. . . It will be quite easy this time, now that she has no means of protection." An aura began to throb around the edges of his silhouette, and both Quiche and Ichigo felt its magnitude.
"Yes, how very unfortunate," Quiche growled, already generating energy for a defense. How were they going to get out of this? It was obvious that neither he nor Ichigo were powerful enough to come out of this alive or victorious. Ichigo was his main concern. No offense intended, but at the moment, she was rather useless, not to mention a sitting target. Deep Blue knew this, and he also knew what she meant to him. It would be all too easy for him to take a shot at her while she was incapacitated, and knock out two birds with one stone. While this would fuel his rage, Quiche knew he was no match against Deep Blue alone. That'd already been proven. If only Ichigo could transform. . .!
Our cat-girl had been thinking similar things, but in spite of her terrible fear, she was one step ahead of Quiche. She hadn't completely recovered from her earlier expenditure, but she could feel her strength returning. The only question was if it was returning quickly enough. . . At any rate, it was all she would have to rely on. If she stayed still and relied on Quiche for as long as she could, she would be able to concentrate on reviving her powers. And maybe, just maybe, if he could buy her enough time, she would be able to transform and assist him. Of course, it was asking a lot of him, but at this point, they were out of options. And if it failed. . . Well, it was best not to think about that now. There was nothing to lose.
"Quiche?" she whispered, knowing she would instantly receive his full attention, whether or not it was the best thing at the moment. "Can you do something for me?"
He blinked confusedly. "Sure, anything. . . Although I have to say that now isn't the best time to be asking. . ."
She hurriedly shook her head. "No, no. . . Just give me some time. Don't attack unless you have to, and defend the best you can against anything."
"But. . ."
"I'm sorry I don't have the time to explain, but trust me. . . This'll be better. Just try your best, okay?"
Quiche nodded, suddenly resolute. "As you wish."
Deep Blue smirked at the exchange, the glow emanating from him having grown quite a bit in volume. Its cold intent was almost palpable. "Done strategizing, I hope? Good. You know it's futile, don't you?"
Quiche responded with a smirk of his own. "Why is it that you villain types must be so sure of yourselves?"
The monarch's face remained amused, but his words were deadly serious. "You would not be one to talk, young traitor. Don't forget who you were not so many hours ago. . . And since I don't intend to keep throwing insults back and forth all day. . . Allow me to demonstrate why I have every reason to be sure of myself. HAAAH!"
He arched back, his eyes glowing an eerie aquamarine, and an immense wave of energy was sent crashing toward them. Quiche had to lurch violently aside to miss the brunt of it, and Ichigo tried her best to block the close shave out of her mind and focus on summoning her own magic. Put your faith in him. He won't allow you to be harmed if he can help it.
"You're lucky that you have such good reflexes. . . But that was just a test. Here's what I'm really capable of. . ." A miasma of raw power started to swirl and grow in Deep Blue's outstretched hands. He devoted all of his attention to feeding its enormity, a fact that Quiche made note of, and then flashed the same disturbing aquamarine gaze at them as he thrust his palms outward and sent the mass arcing their direction.
Quiche immediately shot upward, drawing his weapon and forcing it down on the destructive mass in attempt to slow the momentum of the blow. As he parried, the cloud exploded just as he thought it would on contact, and in a split-second he wrenched he and Ichigo as far away from the resulting shockwave as he could. The boom nearly deafened the both of them, as they hadn't been able to get far enough out of range, but they escaped the impact, save for maybe a singed hair or two. But Quiche had the feeling that next time they wouldn't get so lucky. Think fast!
Deep Blue was through with talking. His next move was rapidly closing in on them. Quiche only had one trick left up his sleeve, and it was a risky one. There was no time to explain it to Ichigo, but she'd just have to trust him. If he didn't try it it, they were done for anyhow.
He stood right before the enemy, in prime position, hoping to appear as if he had given up. With any luck, Deep Blue would interpret it that way, and let go of the new energy mass he was forming without trying to make it any more formidable.
It worked. With a wicked grin, Deep Blue was arrogant enough to believe his opponent had surrendered, and as a testament to Quiche's observation earlier, he let loose of the attack he had been forming. The second Quiche knew that his action would be irreversible, he took hold of Ichigo's arms and shoved her as far away from him and the point of impact as he could, praying that she'd gained enough power to support herself or that he'd be able to get back to her. He propelled himself in the opposite direction as well, jabbing his weapon forward to absorb the impact. Please let this work. . .
The moment Quiche threw her, Ichigo knew that he was unknowingly giving her just the opportunity she needed. It was now or never. Just as the wave of energy roared passed them and before Deep Blue's anger could mount high enough at their deception to decide his next move, she let the words she knew so well flow off of her tongue.
"Mew Mew Strawberry! METAMORPHOSIS!"
A warm, pink glow that gave her assurance in spite of the desperate measures she'd been forced to take enveloped her, morphing her into a warrior suited for battle. She felt the tingle of power flowing over her and through her very being, and felt fresh and determined as the light faded and she stepped onto the battlefield not as Ichigo but as Mew Ichigo. It worked. . . And now I'm going to try my very hardest to come out on top. . . Drifting down to the top of a nearby turret, she assumed a fighter's pose, ready for anything Deep Blue might throw at her. At least, she hoped she was ready. . .
Deep Blue gaped at the unlikely pair disbelievingly, shaking with rage. He had not thought them to be so trusting or so coordinated with each other, from what he had witnessed last night. Apparently, he had misjudged. There was still no doubt in his mind that he could bring them down, but now it would take a bit more precision. The stakes had just gotten higher, the gameplay, more intense. . .
He gave a thin, strained smile. "How admirable. Touching, even. . . Do you think of yourself as some sort of saint, little girl? There's no need to try so hard to save the world anymore. I can guarantee that it won't thank you. And him?" He gestured to Quiche, who was a bit, but not seriously, scuffed up from the earlier blast. "What good did resurrecting him do? Have you forgotten the way he has treated you? Two children does not a savior for the world make. . ."
Quiche understood what Deep Blue was trying to accomplish with all of his taunting, and a grin spread across his lips. Even though he had faced off with Ichigo, he had never really battled with her, and therefore had no idea what he was getting himself into. She may have many faults, but she never questioned her sense of what she knew was right. And she never, ever gave up.
Although Ichigo would've loved to refute Deep Blue's words, she got the feeling that he was a person who'd rather blast you out of the sky than sit around debating. Besides, she and Quiche still didn't quite pack enough of a punch to put him down for the count, and then there was the entire royal court to deal with even then. . . Their only hope was to wound him just enough to give them time for a clean getaway and time to recuperate. And so, even though it was an entirely unfair and unoble thing to do, that's why Ichigo made the move she did next.
"Strawberry Bell Bell!" The monarch's eyes widened for yet another round of shocking developments as he realized what he was about to do. The look deepened to horror when he also realized there was no way to stop her.
Quiche, too, was a bit stunned. Not that he was against the idea, but this was Ichigo they were discussing. As the saying went, desperate times called for desperate measures. Just in case, Quiche readied a counterattack. He was just as eager to make a retreat as she was.
As soon as she was grasping her weapon in her hands, Ichigo did not hesitate to use it. Stretching both arms as far as they could go, she aimed. . . and fired.
"Ribbon. . . Strawberry Check!"
It was a direct hit. In a swirling fury of multi-colored bubbles, Deep Blue met his doom. For the moment, at least. As soon as Ichigo heard his anguished roar of pain and defeat, Quiche had read her thoughts exactly and was already sweeping her off of her feet and hightailing it into the hills.
Suffice to say, neither of them waited around to hear Deep Blue's revenge-driven vows.
"Where are we going!" The demand belonged to Ichigo, who had been breathlessly trying to keep up with Quiche's breakneck pace. The scene was now of lush and verdant foliage, and the overcast skies of earlier had gotten even darker and decided to send down some rain. Since she had remained in her Mew form even after their getaway, just in case anyone tried to pursue them or they got into trouble along the way, the weather was especially unpleasant. Not only did cats despise water, but it was becoming a bit difficult to run when her skirt was sodden. Quiche would gladly carry you, her subconscious volunteered. But after all the time she'd spent in his arms, necessary time, she reminded the voice in her head, she was glad to be back on her own two feet again, for a change. She'd stick it out."Where are we going!" The demand belonged to Ichigo, who had been breathlessly trying to keep up with Quiche's breakneck pace. The scene was now of lush and verdant foliage, and the overcast skies of earlier had gotten even darker and decided to send down some rain. Since she had remained in her Mew form even after their getaway, just in case anyone tried to pursue them or they got into trouble along the way, the weather was especially unpleasant. Not only did cats despise water, but it was becoming a bit difficult to run when her skirt was sodden. , her subconscious volunteered. But after all the time she'd spent in his arms, time, she reminded the voice in her head, she was glad to be back on her own two feet again, for a change. She'd stick it out.
"To my ship! I've had it hidden here for a long time, just waiting for a situation like this to come up!" He had to shout over the hiss of the rain.
"What! You can pilot your own ship?"
Quiche threw a teasing glance back at her. "You didn't think I floated across the galaxy to your planet, did you?"
"Ha ha, very funny!" Undeterred by circumstance, they were both beginning to act like their old selves.
Not more than a few seconds later, Quiche let out a whoop. "We're here!"
Ichigo stopped and stooped over, catching her breath. She watched with some amusement as the green-haired alien excitedly ran over to a towering growth of exotic-looking weeds, scaling the side of the concealed spaceship and flipping open the top hatch.
"C'mon!" He motioned eagerly for her to follow.
Slightly more reluctantly, Ichigo strode over to the mass of weeds and felt her way through them to the hidden spacecraft, climbing carefully and with some hesitance. When she neared the top, Quiche extended a hand to her that she took only too gratefully. Once she was lifted to the top, she began her descent into the hatch, Quiche right behind her (or more correctly, above her), shutting its door on his way in.
Once Ichigo had reached the bottom, she chanced a look around the place. It was a smaller spacecraft (not that Ichigo had seen a larger one), but it looked clean and well-maintained. Spaceships must be the same to boys on Quiche's planet as they are to cars on ours, she mused. Surely enough, a certain gleam overtook the alien's eyes when the rested on the control panel.
"So, what do you think?"
"Does it matter? We're stuck here for a while, whether I like it or not. . . But since you asked, I guess it doesn't seem so bad. As long as you don't start going on about horsepower or something." The redhead took a much-deserved seat in a nearby chair, sighing and running her fingers through her damp and stringy locks.
"Horsepower? What's that?" Quiche blinked, his face blank.
Oh, that's right. . . "Um, nevermind."
Now that there was no urgent fleeing of royal palaces or fate-determining battles to distract their minds from the truth, the gravity of their situation had begun to sink in. Even though he was overjoyed to have her there, Quiche got the feeling that Ichigo seemed out of place in this tiny ship. Funny, it really hadn't seemed so small a moment ago. . . He knew that a horrible twist of fate was the only reason why she was here, and that if the rest of the world hadn't been destroyed, Ichigo would never be paying him this kind of attention. It was awful that he was happy about a situation that had only come about with the death of an entire planet. planet. He searched her expression, trying to see if the sorrow and loss and regret had seeped back into it, and felt a pang in his own heart. He hated to see her like this! But what he hated worse was that he had no power within him to give her the comforting she needed.Even now, though he knew she would at least put up an act of cheer and acceptance, she stood out among the space-age fixtures of the cabin they occupied. The very bulk of the ship seemed as if it would weigh down on her delicate frame, and the rude steel that composed it was somehow injuring to her beauty. She was a flower in the midst of a barren steppe, condemned to an unsuiting life of harsh winters that would eventually wilt and tatter her spirit. It was just the two of them, now. If he so desired, he could seduce her right now, and she could do nothing to stop him. But somehow, that idea had lost its appeal. . . For reasons he himself did not understand, all he was interested was in humoring her needs and making her happy. It was really quite ironic that he should have the perfect opportunity to fulfill all of his fantasies and then pass it by. Nevertheless, this felt right. . .
Having Ichigo around could be potentially damaging to his ego. And it seemed they were going to be stuck that way, for a while, at least. He just hoped she wouldn't bring up those things he'd said while he thought he was dying. Burning stars, women drove you to do some crazy things. . .
Far too much time had passed since either of them had spoken. Attempting to break the uncomfortable silence, Quiche cleared his throat and made what was supposed to be a neutral announcement. "We can't stay here. In a few hours, the whole city with be crawling with guards. We're well-hidden for now, but I think it'd be best to leave as soon as possible. I don't want to risk it."
Ichigo seemed to snap out of her trance, centering her big doe eyes on him. "Does that mean. . ."
Quiche nodded grimly. "We'll be headed for Earth, yes. I'm sorry. . ." He grew a little nervous as Ichigo ducked her head. Dealing with the emotionally distraught wasn't his forte. "It's the only place we have left to go. And anyway, we have to see if there's anything we can do. If there are any other. . . survivors." He kept his eyes locked on Ichigo's slumped form, his unrest increasing.
Thankfully, when she did emerge again, her eyes were free of any tears. "Alright," she agreed softly.
Quiche gave a mental sigh of relief. "Er. . . good, then. I'll be starting the engine for take-off. You can sit in the co-pilot's chair, if you want-" he tried not to let the hope be overly evident in his voice "-or you can retire to your quarters."
There was something almost pathetically endearing about the way Quiche had tried to hide the pleading in his voice. In spite of all, Ichigo smiled. "I think I'll sit in the co-pilot's seat," she told him. "I've never been in space before."
Quiche's face lit up, but then he realized what he was doing and tried to smother his joy. But the damage was already done. "Er, well then, just come up when you're ready. . . I'll, ah, be preparing things. . ."
As soon as he disappeared behind the control terminal, Ichigo stifled a giggle. She didn't know what it was, but there was an almost puppy-like quality that he had that somehow took her mind off things.
In a puzzlingly good mood, she pushed back her chair and followed him to the cockpit.
"I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing!" Ichigo shrieked, clutching the handle overhead for dear life as she was once again jerked out of her seat. They'd been in space for only a couple of hours, but that was more than enough time for Ichigo to discover that Quiche's piloting skills were more rusty than he would like to admit.
"I do!" Quiche protested, frantically shoving down a multitude of flashing levers and buttons with his free hands. It was usually Pie's job to handle the ship, not his. "She's just not handling very well!"
The spacecraft made another vile lurch, causing Ichigo to knock her head on the ceiling and lunge forward. "That was an asteroid! What are you doing!"
"Trying"-jerk-"to"-slam-"fly"-wrench-"this"-twist-"ship!" Another asteroid careened into view, and Quiche made a rough turn to avoid it.
"Don't you have some kind of directional computer! Or seatbelts!" This time, Ichigo held firm her grip on the overhead handle, not even bothering to reseat herself. At this rate, they'd be rattled to pieces before they even entered Earth's atmosphere!
"Well, you try maintaining a spaceship on my salary! It's not like we had time to do a systems check! Pick one, death by evil alien king or death by asteroid belt!"
Just seconds later, his comment almost came true. A particularly large specimen zoomed into view, hurling towards them at a sickening pace. Ichigo's eyes dilated and she emitted a frightened scream. Frantically, Quiche tried to swerve away, but the control stick seemed to be stuck. Great, me and my big mouth. In a last ditch effort, he tried to pull the stick loose, and in the final moment, it un-jammed. . . Causing them to roll and tumble wildly as the huge space rock knocked against the side of the ship.
In the ensuing chaos that reigned as all manners of loose objects clanged around, Quiche felt something warm, soft, and decidedly female crash into him and latch hold. The lights flickered and the entire vessel groaned. Instead of focusing on the crisis at hand, Quiche was trying hard to ignore the scent of Ichigo's hair and the warmth of her body and especially the rapid fluttering of her heartbeat.
A few minutes passed, and then the ship was sailing smoothly, everything stabilized. Ichigo froze and flushed a deep red as she noticed the death grip she had on her green-haired comrade. But before she jerked away, she was shocked to notice that his head was politely turned away, head ducked. And was that a blush she saw? Surely not. . .
She stood there awkwardly for a couple of heartbeats, unsure of what to say or do next, before Quiche intervened with a polite cough. "Er, Ichigo?"
"What?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she heard the snap in her tone and cringed.
"Your, ah, skirt has risen up, I believe." His head was still turned to the side, and his voice didn't seem to carry any lecherous intent.
Ichigo looked down and saw, with horror, that Quiche spoke the truth. Her cheeks burning even more fiercely, she tugged the fabric down, hard. "Ah. . . th-thank you," she said, unsure of what else she could say to make the situation less embarrassing. He had seen her panties! But at least he had the decency to look away and tell her. . . Wait, had she just used the words "decency" and "Quiche" in the same sentence?
There was another long pause. Before the silence could stretch too far, Ichigo took her seat again, her face still tinged pink. She preoccupied her sights with the stars all around them.
"It looks like we've cleared the asteroid belt," Quiche announced, trying to save the atmosphere (and trying not to think of Ichigo's adorable strawberry-print panties). "Since we're back on course, I'm going to make the jump to lightspeed. It might be a little bit of a jolt at first, but you'll get used to it."
Ichigo nodded, her eyes still lost in the star-dotted tapestry of space. Were one of those distant lights her sun? Her heart sank at her next thought. Was there even anything left for it to warm? She clenched the bunches of her skirt in her hands, trying not to give into the despair that had become all too familiar in the past few hours. Be strong, Ichigo. They need you to have courage!
A red glow surged up the length of a particularly large lever, its beeping growing more shrill and insistent, catching Ichigo's attention. As soon as the whole lever shined red and the beeping reached its epithet, Quiche slammed it down, and they jolted into hyperspace. The initial force pinned Ichigo to her seat, and the black vastness outside became a blur of lights. It reminded her of a carnival ride, almost. Except the purpose of this adventure was far more grave.
Hang on, she pleaded silently. We're almost there.
It was there before them. A round globe of swirling blues, greens, and whites. . . The scene was breathtaking from Ichigo's viewpoint. "Home", she whispered, swallowing a lump in her throat. It still looked beautiful from the outside, at least.
"Approaching Earth's atmosphere shortly," and automated voice chimed. "Please engage deflector shields and prepare engines for entry."
Quiche fiddled with some buttons and switches and the spacecraft became encased in a semi-transparent force field of sorts, its surface rippling with energy. Ichigo blinked, studying it. She had done similar things with her powers, and wondered what technology the ship relied on to duplicate the effect. Her knowledge on technological matters was very little, though, just enough to operate any everyday electronic device.
But perhaps it would be in her best interest to learn, since this would be the only piece of technology she would be using for a long while.
Quiche spoke, bringing her back to the present and away from her own disturbing thoughts. Which was probably a good thing, because she would have new ones aplenty once they landed. "The ride through the atmosphere's going to be rough, and probably hot, even with the anti-friction and cooling systems. So hang onto something." His manner was unusually somber and subdued. They hadn't said much after the incident with the asteroid belt, and along with the silence had stretched a certain pensiveness, a deep chasm in the conversation made of things unsaid and better left unspoken.
Ichigo just nodded and reached up to grasp the security handle overhead once more. She trusted him.
"Beginning descent into Earth's atmosphere. 10, 9, 8. . ."
Ichigo held her breath as the computerized voice counted down, hoping that whatever she found down there was nowhere near as bad as she saw it in her imagination. And, more imminently, that they landed safely.
". . .3, 2, 1."
Quiche throttled another glowing lever, and downward they shot, the hull a molten orange point plummeting into the oblivion so quickly and so forcefully Ichigo had to squeeze her eyes shut against the brilliance and the heat.
Her heart hammered. But whether it was in hope or fear, she could not be sure.
From the moment they entered the stratosphere, Ichigo knew all of her fears were confirmed. Where there should've been a glittering skyline, a patchwork of skyscrapers, there was nothing. .
They floated down with a disturbing ease, but Ichigo was already shaking at the view before her. Her dread, which had before swirled within her like mist, comprised of fear and worst-case-scenario imaginings, now solidified, settled in her stomach like a hard, cold lump. Tears that should've welled up refused to spill over, and she felt hollow all of a sudden. Is this what it feels like to become numb?
A gentle, graceful thud and the spacecraft had landed. Ichigo's eyes remained riveted to the horrendous scene that had unfolded before them, as if locked in place. She'd expected this, braced herself against it, and yet it still left her reeling.
Beside her, Quiche gave her a soft tap on the shoulder. Ichigo turned and blinked, her eyes large and empty, like the eyes of one haunted.
"I've lowered the loading ramp," he whispered. He looked concerned, and he seemed to struggle against consoling her, as he didn't really know if there was anything he could do to assist, or if should would be insulted by his attempt. After all, this was partly his fault, much as he hated it. He had supported, aided, and carried out the Tokyo Continental Renaissance from start to finish. A change of heart at the last moment didn't absolve him of his wrongdoing. He'd helped destroy a planet, Ichigo's planet. There was nothing he could do to take it back. And to be honest, he was thoroughly shaken that Ichigo had seemed to completely forgive him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness. He was thankful for it, tried desperately to preserve the fragile bonds that held it intact, but he didn't deserve it. And since they were stuck with each other anyway, it made things easier. But the easy way out was not always the best one, or the right one.
Ichigo gave him a blank look that tore him apart, as if she was unaware he had spoken. Then she snapped out of the trance, giving a mechanical nod. Though it took all of his willpower to do so, Quiche led her to and down the ramp silently, suppressing the many things he wanted to say.
As soon as their feet touched the ground, if it could even be called ground any longer, disbelief and horror dawned anew.
It was more destruction than even an atomic bomb could ever hope to cause. It literally looked as if a giant fist had plunged from the heavens and impaled all that was once Tokyo, grinding the massive city to its foundation and reducing it to rubble. Wasteland. That was what Tokyo had become.
Mangled steel, crumbled concrete, blasted pavement, twisted hunks of metal that might've once been automobiles. All of this, piled in heap after heap as far as the eye could see, reaching toward the sky. There were no signs of life anywhere, just a rough breeze, which served only to make the place seem more lonely, more desolate, more forsaken. Seawater rushed and lapped over the gigantic scrapyard, flowing through the craggy and damaged surface along the shore. The impact must've depressed the whole landmass, Quiche realized. They were below sea level now. And speaking of the sea. . . A blow powerful enough to decimate an entire metropolis would probably trigger a seismic reaction, pummeling the coasts of other continents with mega-tsunamis. Deep Blue had certainly done his homework.
And then, abruptly, he wondered why the whole city wasn't crawling with media, those camera-toting, microphone-shoving, business-poking annoyances that Earth seemed to breed like rabbits. Surely with a planet this large and advanced, someone would've noticed the disappearance of a world empire. . . And that's when he felt it. An energy field of some sort, spanning the entire circumference of the city. The waves that it generated were intense, meant to ward off anything from the outside. It seemed Deep Blue intended to keep his prize well-preserved. But then. . . how had they been able to penetrate it?
"He knows we're here," Quiche spoke aloud, and the prospect was nauseating. He had manipulated the force field to allow them in, and now, essentially, they were trapped. Trapped in a godforsaken city with no provisions and little hope. It was a marvelous scheme. Why, as they spoke, a fleet of royal star cruisers were probably on their way, ready to make mincemeat out of the both of them. Their best bet was to find somewhere to hide, to maintain some element of surprise and conceal their exact location for as long as they could, if only to buy time.
He looked to Ichigo, ready to divulge his plan. She was taking this hard, unsurprisingly. He didn't want to seem callous, but for the sake of their lives, they'd have to keep moving. But before he could get a word out, Ichigo beat him to it.
"I used to walk along this street on my way to school," she stated, her manner still disconcertingly calm. "Miwa, Moe, and I, in our school uniforms, every day after school, we walked this block. It was the most crowded of all the streets, but the three of us always loved it the most of all. So many exciting people, on their way to work, or to school like us, or to who knows where. . ." She smiled ruefully. "And now, it's empty. There's nothing left of it. No one will ever walk down it again."
"Don't say that!" Quiche reprimanded reflexively. "We haven't lost yet. There's still some hope for us." But it sounded flat and false, even to his ears. She was right. Without a miracle, Ichigo's words would most likely come true.
Her eyes filled with pity, but the cause of it was undeterminable. Herself? The Earth? Him? Wordlessly, she walked over to a nearby mound of wreckage, fingering the crumpled remains of what had probably once been a very grand building. "So much effort to build, and so little effort to destroy. . . It's so unfair." She sifted the chunks of concrete in her hands, feeling a certain sympathy for them, even if they were only inanimate objects. They, too, would never get put back together, never get to stand again.
Quiche couldn't take it any longer. Something about Ichigo carressing a mound of splintered concrete tore at his heartstrings. If he didn't say it now, his guilt would strangle him. "Ichigo. . . I. . . I'm sorry." He hung his head, his expression resigned. "I helped create this. I should be here among all of this rubble. We were comissioned to do this by our king, Pie, Tart, and I. Times were very hard, and our people were anxious for a better life, a savior to guide them. We were, too. We didn't think about doing the right thing; all we cared about was getting back what we thought was rightfully ours. But. . . if we'd stopped and thought about it, we'd have seen that revenge wasn't the way to go about it. You showed me that, and it took a long time for me to really listen. Too much time. I wanted you to love me like I loved you, but another thing I didn't realize was that I couldn't force affection. If I'd really cared, I'd have let you go. I'd have stopped everything before it was too late."
He looked up at her, regret etched in his every feature. "I'm so sorry, Ichigo. It shouldn't have happened this way."
Ichigo was taken aback by such a heartfelt confession. All of what Quiche had told her was true, but. . . He couldn't be held accountable for his past actions. At least he'd seen the error of his ways in the end. It was better than not at all. He had been willing to fight against his own evildoings, at least tried to thwart them. Besides, his whole upbringing, his whole planet, had told him he was doing the right thing. . . She felt a wave of compassion. It seemed they both felt responsible, in one way or another.
She walked back over, stopped before him, and took both of his hands. He looked at her in awe, hardly believing her actions. She smiled firmly but reassuringly. "Quiche, it's neither of our faults. You convinced me, and now I'll convince you. You did some terrible things, but. . . I know you regret them. And more than regret them, you'd do anything to take them back! It doesn't matter now. What matters is that we're both here, and now we're both trying to undo everything." She looked him straight in the eyes. "Quiche, I forgive you."
The alien's eyes seemed to glisten just a bit more than usual, for a moment, and then he smiled in return. "Okay."
A broken city was a terrible thing, but as both Quiche and Ichigo were beginning to discover, it offered some terrific hiding places. Of course, hiding would really be no use in the long run, especially if Deep Blue could sense their presence like Quiche feared he could, but there was nothing to lose by trying.
Ichigo had done her best to hold her head up and keep her composure while they had navigated the ruined streets. The interesting thing was that they'd found no bodies, no remains. They seemed to have vaporized completely. But everything was so familiar, and after she had lived her whole life there, there was almost nothing that didn't have some kind of memory tied to it. Thoughts of her friends and family and everyone hurt the worst, though. Tokyo had been so crowded and full of life. To see it reduced to its current state was painful. Several times tears had threatened her, but she'd pushed them away. They didn't have time to grieve.
But now, in the basement of a building in the business district, Ichigo wasn't sure she could ward off her grief. Sure, she'd given an encouraging speech, picked through rubble, and searched for provisions, all with dry eyes, but this had been accumulating since the moment she'd arrived. The circumstances had just forced her to push it back.
She fingered a ceramic jar on a desk, examining it. The eerie thing about this particular building was how undamaged, how well-preserved it was. The jar was in the shape of a cat, with two glass eyes and ears and a tail. There person who had sat there every day had probably put it there to add a homey touch. Maybe she'd enjoyed ceramics, and had made it herself. Maybe she had cats at home. Or maybe her daughter had given it to her for a gift. . .
The burden then became too much. The jar fell from Ichigo's fingers, shattering, and Quiche turned at the disturbance. Ichigo could feel the tears welling up, weak and incriminating. She was angry with herself for being powerless to stop their descent down her cheeks, and at the same time relieved to be able to properly vent all of the pain and suffering she had kept bottled inside. As her entire lifestyle and then her entire city had before her, Ichigo crumbled, and there was no more dignity in her fall than there had been in the previous disasters.
"I can't do this!" she sobbed, hands obstructing a face ruined by lament. "I . . . I'm not enough. Not enough for this world! I. . . can't save it. . . Look at me! I'm so exhausted from running that I can barely stand. I haven't even had a bath or a decent meal for so long. . ." Ichigo straightened, removing her hands from her face and regarding Quiche directly, her brown eyes intensified by her tears and passionate deliverance, strangely vivid and captivating.
"Do I look like the savior of an entire planet? Do I? Why me? Why not someone stronger, someone older, someone who would have stood half a chance. . . It doesn't make any sense. . ." She dissolved back into weeping then, tilting her face downward so that her hair concealed her face. Her shoulders trembled viciously.
Quiche was torn. Ichigo's torment stirred him somewhere deep in his heart, and he ached to watch her like she was. All the same, he wasn't certain if any consolation would be the right sort. He couldn't lie to her and say that everything would be all right; that was cliche and both of them knew the opposite was far more likely. He understood the source of her pain, knew what it was like to have a burden forced upon oneself far bigger than your capacity to carry. And this was what gave him the compulsion to comfort her in some way, this time, to stop or at least temporarily ease whatever pain had made his strawberry into something that was not herself. He didn't know how she would react, but the desperation of the situation and his own inner conviction gave him the courage to reach out to her.
A hand lifted her chin, and Ichigo choked on a sob in shock as Quiche brushed her bangs out of her eyes. His face was commandingly serious as he smoothed away her tears, his fingers finally coming to rest grasping her chin. She gazed at him, still slightly dazed by the gesture, and her heartache still lurking just behind the surface was currently overwhelmed by a soft wonder.
"You said yourself that we were not to blame," Quiche intoned carefully, still watching Ichigo's every move to see if he was doing the right thing. Her rapt, almost spellbound attention gave him momentum, confidence. "So why are you blaming yourself now?"
She closed her eyes, and a single tear trickled down. "I know I'm not to blame. It's easy to say it, but. . . I'm not blaming myself. I just. . . everything. . . I don't know. . . I don't want to die!"
Quiche understood her distress. It was nothing that could be remedied in words. No advice could be given to heal the wounds of loss, and no words of confidence could hide the fact that the odds were against them. There was only one thing Quiche could offer, and he wasn't sure if it would be comforting in the least.
"I'll protect you," he whispered, erasing the last tear from her face. "I won't let you die if I can help it."
Something in his words made Ichigo's heart swell unbearably, something familiar that she had needed to hear all along but had been unable to. Impulsively, she leaned forward and pressed her lips into his.
Ichigo had shocked him many times that day, but this was the biggest shock of all. He couldn't tell if she just wanted the sensation of intimate contact to banish her worries, or if she was really kissing him. But he didn't care who she thought of him as in that moment. Whoever she needed him to be to overcome her struggle, that was his identity. He kissed back, relishing the contact. Although he had locked lips with Ichigo before, that was a kiss stolen. This was a kiss given. It felt different. It felt wonderful.
Just as soon as it had began, the kiss was over, and although it had been quite brief in the way of snogs, it had felt like an eternity. Ichigo came to her senses and realized what she had just done, really realized it, and her face exploded into a violent flush, looking down. This was pathetic! First she was crying her eyes out, and then she kissed Quiche without warrning. . . What must he think of her? Especially under the circumstances, and with the past she had of trying to convince him that she didn't want such advances from him. . . Now she was the one making the advances.
A suffocating silence dawned. Quiche tried to interpret Ichigo's blush, her sudden shyness, her refusal to look at him. He knew what he hoped they meant, but that chance seemed remote. Then, he remembered the last words he had said. . .
"Was I Aoyama?" he asked, trying not to sound bitter and failing.
Ichigo's looked up, her expression startled. "No, I think. . . I think you were you." She said the words slowly, incredulous that they were coming out of her mouth.
Quiche's expression lifted to disbelief, hope not quite concealed in his eyes. "You mean that?" His voice was soft.
And then everything made sense. She nodded and wrapped him in a bone-crushing embrace before he could say another word, not wanting to think about how insane and selfish this all was and just wanting his nimble fingers in her hair and his comforting presence all around her.
As the rain (when had that started falling?) beat down on them through the damaged building, Ichigo felt a lightness she hadn't in a long while. There was still so much that she didn't understand, so many things left to face and repair that she wasn't sure she could handle, but at least she knew she had someone else there to stand beside her.
And neither of them heard it when the thunder began to roll in.
There's more being said than what appears in that last line, as always with me. Kisses are what blur the line between friendship and love, so that's why they've been prominent in the key points of each of these stories.
So, has everyone liked my fan fiction? I really hope so. Okay, so maybe the premise was a little far-fetched, but altogether logical if you really consider things. Have you noticed in fiction that whenever people collapse everyone always jumps to conclusions and starts screaming "Don't die!"? They never act rationally and check for a pulse, and people don't die so suddenly if you think about it realistically. And surprisingly, a lot of Quiche/Ichigo fan fiction has been popping up around here. Personally, even though I'm a die-hard canon couplist, I really like them together. It's tragic and angsty enough to appeal to me. So this scenario would make a relationship between them more believable and canon, if that's not contradictive. And about the space-y bits. . . All the techno-talk and such was drawn from what I know of space travel (most of it's from Star Wars novels and fan fic!), and my somewhat logic-inept brain. So if you want to point out a misnomer, go ahead. I'll be the first to admit that I have no idea about the real workings of spaceship, aside from the basics.
Also, a note on my spelling of Quiche. Most people here refer to him as Kish, due to either Tokyopop's translations or phonetic spelling. Quiche, pronounced Keesh, is a baked dessert similar to a tart, which fits with the tune of the other aliens' names, so that's why I use it. It's like spelling Lettuce as Retasu. Retasu is just a more phonetic spelling, since Japanese have difficulty pronouncing the letter L or saying words that end in consonants. Everyone got it?
And so we reach the epilogue of this anthology. It was a fun ride! And because I got so many great reviews, there will be another short story coming up soon ("soon" being in a few months, knowing me), as a kind of "bonus dessert". The plot bunnies really won't leave me be. Anyhow, this story will be set in the not-so-distant future, and will be my take on the lives of the Mew Mews as they grow up and settle down. And who knows? If it really inspires me, there might be another anthology coming soon. . .
Don't keep your fingers crossed, though!
Love always,
CS-chan
(P.S.: If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading my monstrously long author's notes, as well! I'd like to think I'm rambling for a good cause.)
