Author's Note: Ok, it's 11:36, and I've had the whole day to start this. Can someone explain to me why I'm doing it now? Especially with mountain biking tomorrow? Eh? Sheeba and Toni, this is all your fault you know. If I crash into a tree tomorrow, I place full blame on you.

That said, we move on with the story. In answer to you two fluff-crazed people, yes, I'll work on the characterization here, I suppose. We all know that I need my fluff fixes, too, though I'm surprised you're complaining, Toni. Goodness knows you're the ultimate fluff-monger, you psychotic IchigoxMasaya fan… I can only hope episode 51 will fix you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but an adorable ferret named Scout, and he has no rights to Tokyo Mew Mew whatsoever. If he did, I'm sure I could've trained him to pair Ichigo and Kisshu up. Unfortunately, I don't have that luxury, so we're stuck with moronic Aoyama over here.

According to the wall clock, it was 11:46 when Ichigo, lightly drowsing in her desk chair, was awoken by a soft groan from the bed. Her eyes, half-closed just a moment ago, instantly focused on Kisshu's stirring form as his own golden orbs opened. Immediately, a feeling of intense relief seized her; just by looking at his eyes, she could see that he was totally conscious. She released a breath she had not known she had been holding. He's himself. He's ok, really, this time, everything's going to be all right… The Kisshu of just a couple of hours ago had distressed her beyond what she had thought possible; only after seeing him in such a state could she recognize her own appreciation for normalcy. Unfortunately, the exact brand of normalcy characteristic of Kisshu had the unique ability to turn her honest concern into embarrassment and annoyance.

His eyes quickly scanning the room as he propped himself up on an elbow, wincing slightly in the process, his gaze landed on her, returned to study his prone position on the bed, and flicked back to her. A fanged smile, small but sly, lifted his lips.

"So this is how you play, eh, koneko-chan?" he quipped in a voice still raspy and weak, but laced with enough suggestive playfulness to light her cheeks aflame and coax an enraged sputtering from her.

The only thing that kept her from giving the alien a well-deserved slap was the remaining pallor in his complexion. He's still hurt, he's just feeling better. This is a good thing. Yes, very good, very, very good… "Playing hard to get, though, aren't we? I mean, if this is what I have to do to get into your bed…"

Goodbye self-control. Wave to it while it flies out the window, boys and girls.

"You pervert!" she screeched. "I go through all the trouble to— to—! Listen to me!"

The boy was chuckling at her sudden outburst, only making her more flustered as she struggled to gain control over the situation. About to lose her temper, Ichigo was pulled back to the harsh seriousness of the situation when a snicker resulted in Kisshu hissing in pain as his wound reminded him of its presence.

Ichigo couldn't tell, absorbed in the moment, but a bystander would have seen that her anger dissolved with surprising rapidity, giving way to an even more intense concern as she closed the small distance between them, suddenly aware that, capable of his usual nonsense or not, the alien boy still had a grave injury. The same thought seemed to occur to Kisshu himself as his smirk turned rueful and he carefully lay himself back down. Ichigo was surprised when he spoke, his voice serious, tinged with… could it be… wistfulness? Sadness?

"I wasn't lying, Ichigo." Somehow, when he called her by her real name and not by his pet names for her, she felt a peculiar shock of feeling. This time, she blamed it on the distressing events surrounding their current situation. He took a deep breath, or as deep a breath as he could take with that wound stretching across his chest, eyes filling with a dill sort of regret.

Before he could continue, the girl interrupted in a small voice, so quiet and tentative that she reminded herself more of timid Lettuce than of herself. Had she been slightly more observant, she may have recognized it as the same voice she used with Aoyama in those moments when her heart pounded and she found herself overly concerned with her hands.

"You could… you could stay here." Surprised as she was to hear that come out of her own mouth, Kisshu appeared even more shocked. As if trying to apologize for the astounding statement, she blurted out "Only until you're better!"

Instead of the lewd comment she was expecting (perhaps an extension of his previous comment, or a remark about the… questionable…possibilities of imprisonment), Kisshu responded in silence, a simple smile replacing the surprise on his face. He relaxed back against the pillow.

Ichigo nervously sat back down in her desk chair, painfully aware of the sudden awkwardness of her situation. She had just asked him to stay. Stay, as in not go. Stay, as in… she shook her head. Yes, she got the point. As her eyes dared to wander back to Kisshu, she realized that he was staring at her, and that damned blush quickly resumed its place on her cheeks. Seeing this, he smirked, a soft snicker breaking the silence, but he took it no further. Either too tired (Yeah, this whole thing probably just exhausted him, she thought) or, was it possible, acting somewhat courteous? Could he maybe… just maybe…? Before she could give herself a firm mental slap and remind herself that this was still Kisshu, a softly-uttered word, free of sarcasm, untainted by threat or disturbing suggestions, gently cut through the silence.

"Thanks."

After that, she supposed his strength really did give out, because his eyes closed, his breathing evened out, and Ichigo was left to contemplate, eyes wide in confusion, lips tempted to lift in an unbidden smile, the sense of what had just happened, the sense of the wild emotional ride she had just experience, and the exact nature of what she had brought upon herself.

A few minutes of this, and she realized that it was futile. All she could do was quickly check the sleeping alien's bandages and breathing before quietly leaving the room, changing and washing up, and returning with a plush sleeping bag. Deciding that answers would not magically appear no matter how long she stayed awake, she lay the sleeping bag down next to her bed, got as comfortable as she could, and was asleep before she could bother with another thought

Author's Note: 1 AM again. Mountain biking tomorrow…eh… today. Damn. It.

Read and review, please. At least give me a good reason for killing my sleep.