Ryou lay sprawled out on his bed, shirtless, ((XD)) his golden head cradled back in his arms. He gently chewed on a toothpick from a tuna sandwich Retasu had made him for lunch.

Even with all her kindnesses, her real reason stuck out like a sore thumb.

"She's after my money, I'm sure." Ryou said blankly. His face showed no emotion, his lifeless eyes stared as his thoughts wandered back in time.

So many girls bothered him and still did, wanting their selfish desires to be fulfilled. They were all the same, each wanting money and wanting to be held by the drop-dead knockout.

Ryou smirked slightly, remembering how they grabbed for him, swooning and utterly falling over themselves.

His scoffing smirk quickly faded. He shifted his weight on the squeaky bed, trying to shake off the looming feelings of remorse.

Why did I let those girls worm their way into my feelings . . . I knew what they were after, but I let them get the best of me anyway.. Ryou's hands balled into fists as he closed his eyes wishing he could close himself from the past.

Of course, what you wish most to go away only stays longer. Faint, taunting voices echoed within his head causing Ryou's fair skin to prickle with goose bumps.

They had not cared for you, Ryou . . . not one. No one cares—. Ryou was suddenly thrown from his thoughts as the toothpick snapped in half by his clenching teeth.

I don't need you reminding me. I don't want to remember. Ryou hissed silently. The voices laughed maliciously amongst themselves before finally dying away.

Despite Ryou's words, the young man couldn't help but feel empty. A space within him longed to be filled, wanting to be filled with another's love.

"You're pathetic." Ryou grunted coldly at his hidden desire, he longed wished to forget. His gaze shifted to the window.

Thinking randomly, he twirled the toothpick halves with his tongue, lazily staring up at the passing clouds.

A smirk crossed his lips as Ichigo's blushing face came to mind.

"Ichigo is different . . . " Ryou whispered, picturing her beautiful eyes.

Ichigo was like a cool breeze blowing softly across his face, refreshing and different. She was sweet, innocent, alluring, and . . . genuine which made all the difference.

As thoughts of Ichigo drifted about his mind, Ryou mentally flinched as if someone had poked a tender bruise on his body. He visibly paled, white taking over soft pink.

The fear of rejection poked its ugly head in his thoughts. Ryou's slender body stiffened a little, but his face remained the same. Emotionless and blank as if he was bored past all saving . . .

Though the young man appeared calm, inside Ryou was a train wreck. Should I tell her? I don't even know what to do. I can't even treat her right, more lessly tell Ichigo I care for her.

Ryou just groaned as he sat up, disgusted with his petty fear.

Standing up, Ryou grabbed a jet-black tank top that lay draped over a chair. He pulled it on and momentarily ran his fingers through his messy hair.

The blonde headed for the door. Upon reaching the door, Ryou turned to glance back at his bed.

These feelings . . . she must not know. Not now.

Closing his room's door quietly, Ryou walked down the dim hall, hands in pockets, chewing gently on the broken toothpick.

Ichigo lowered her head slightly, unwilling to look up into Kishu's eyes.

I'm engaged to his guy? She intently stared in disbelief at Kishu's odd clothing. ((The one and only middy shirt outfit!))

His clothes hung loosely from his lanky frame, showing his thin stomach. Her eyes traveled Kishu's pasty abdomen down to his brownish boots.

Ichigo frowned . . . HIS GUY HAS ABSOLUTELY NO FASHION SENSE! Ichigo laughed mentally at herself. This 'Kishu' had just forced a kiss on me with his arms wrapped around me, telling me I'm betrothed to him and I'm thinking about his clothes! Ichigo sighed.

For some reason, she let Kishu hold on to her, even though he was slightly brassy.

The alien tilted his head thoughtfully to one side in question, observing the mew.

She was everything he imagined she would be. Countless hours he had spent just dreaming about the earth-girl his clan had assigned him to marry. From that then on, she was all he could think about.

Kishu's uncommon golden eyes stared down at Ichigo in his arms, not emotional or in amusement. He just simply stared, unbelieving that he was finally able to interlock his future bride within his embrace. Kishu took hold of the moment to gently pull Ichigo closer.

He did so slowly and delicately as if she were a piece of glass. His green hair fell across his face, wrapping his arms warmly about her shoulders. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against Ichigo's satiny hair, his only fervent desire set aflame.

I want you, Ichigo.

Ichigo blushed as Kishu drew his arms about her. He pulled her with such tenderness and passion Ichigo's head swirled and her vision blurred slightly. Her ears started to appear and her tail popped from beneath her skirt.

My ears.. AH! OK! THAT IS THE LAST STRAW! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS WEIRDO! Ichigo struggled violently, resisting the strong feeling to melt within his arms.

"I've had enough!" Ichigo piped up, her face a little flushed.

Kishu arms tightened like coils. "I'm not going to let you off that easy kitty. You're mine and always have been." Kishu purred as he slowly dragged her from the café to the front yard.

"Someone help me! Anyone please!" Ichigo cried as the café doors closed, but no one noticed . . . not one customer moved to rescue the mew.