Author's Note: Long time no see, everyone! Sorry about the wait, really, I am. There's just been a lot of stuff going on at school… eh, yea. We'll go with that. No, really, things have been busy. I'll try a bit harder to give you guys less waiting time, but bear with me. That said on to responses!

Kishu: Ok, the ESP with my readers is kinda disturbing. You and Dust-in kinda predict what I'm putting up next… that freaks me out, yet is seriously cool. I know, I know, I won't forget simple needs. I'm too much of a bio nerd, hehe…

xX-Shortcake-Princess-Xx: Yup, I update as often as I can. This is a really long wait for me. Hehe… artsy… I'm an AP Lit student, is all. We're trained in the art of writing with pointless elaboration. Yay us!

Dust-in: Mmm.. Kish/Ichigo love…. must kill Masaya… And yea, the Lettuce/Pai will come. Lettuce will be fully seen next chap, so don't worry. The L/P may not be as focused on as the K/I, but I'll shove some in there.

Kaoru…: Too lazy to type… need sleep… blech. Hehe. I have Arabic friends, and yea, the font shows up. It's pretty .

BlackWingedGabriel: Hey! Fluff is my friend… it is so my friend. And according to my friends, who are goddesses of fluff, I'm getting rather good at it. Which is disturbing. Mmyup. And your theory is sound. I have to confess, I've never watched any of the anime, except TMM, that you mentioned, but I'd prolly go with the Kisshu-esque guys. Doesn't surprise me at all.

Jenvaati: I am so used to the ep 45 drawing thing now… used to freak me out. Not anymore . And I personally thought the ending sucked, actually. Ichigo, like, totally forgot him at the end. It pissed me off royally. Though... there was this interesting little tidbit in ep 51 that I found… intriguing. Sheebs, Toni, I've explained my theory!

Everyone Else: Thanks for the reviews!

Ok, before you all go on, I'd like to mention that Sheeba and Toni have already read the first.. oh… half of this chapter. I'd also like to say that it sent Sheeba into fluff convulsions. She had it during English class, and she looked like she was going to have a fit. Those three pages make her go crazy. It's funny to watch, really. If anyone could tell me was is so fluffy about the first part of the chapter, please do. It perplexes me so, yet watching her go into little fluff-induced seizures is always fun.

That done…

Disclaimer: Proof of my not owning TMM: Episodes 39, 45, and 51. 'Nuff said.

Oh, and any typos or errors will be eventually fixed. I know they're there, I just haven't had time to figure them out. It's late people. I've gotten less than 9 hours sleep in.. two or three days. Bear with me :P

Now, read away.

He was going to die.

That was the first thought that gingerly pulled itself from sleep's abyss as the caress of a cool, damp cloth against his cheek woke him.

Kisshu did not have to remain lucid for long to see the tear stains on Ichigo's cheeks or the cold despair in her bleary eyes. He realized quickly, very quickly for someone in his state, that he had worsened, that his fever was higher, his breathing shallower, and that the girl was afraid. She was terrified. Utterly, hopelessly terrified, because all she saw was the alien boy slowly suffering and dying before her.

I guess… that's it, then…?

If he was going to die, he suddenly realized, then only one more thing mattered. Only one…

Hours had passed. Hours of listening to the boy cry out deliriously in his sleep, hours of futile attempts to keep his steadily rising temperature at bay, hours of heartbreaking deterioration had sapped Ichigo's strength to the point that it took her a few moments to register the feather-light touch against her left hand, and a few moments more to realize that the touch came from Kisshu's trembling fingers.

She nearly jerked her hand back, her surprise was so great, but she managed to stay still as the alien slowly, painstakingly, moved his hand over hers and curled his fingers around her wrist. The shock only deepened when he began to use the last of his strength to pull.

Was he pulling himself up, or her down?

Both, it seemed, and now her eyes snapped to his face.

Those golden orbs stared back, dulled by weakness, yet flickering with a dying spark of hope as his chapped lips parted and his voice, a bare rasping whisper, broke the silence.

"One… one more… Ichigo…" His eyes almost fluttered closed as he took a shallow breath. "Please… just once… befo—"

He broke off, last reserves of energy devoted to a final attempt to prop himself up, to…

Ichigo gave a choked sob when she grasped his intent, and the realization made her go limp for a moment.

As his feeble pulling on her wrist continued, as he wheezed in this final, desperate exertion, her mind could only focus on one paralyzing thought.

He's hurting, dying, because of me, and all he wants… all he can ask for before…

She found herself gently taking his hand and bringing it up to her face, tenderly pressing it against her cheek as a tearful smile replaced the rigid shock on her face. Before she could even speak, she shook her head, eyes firmly locked on to his, shook it again and again even as tears filled her eyes and dropped, unnoticed, to the bedspread.

"No, Kisshu," she murmured, and her voice was as low, as drawn and weak as his as she saw a heavy disappointment dull his eyes further. But her smile remained, even grew, as his fingers faintly caressed her temple, almost attempting to hold onto her one last time. She gave a choked sound, half sob, half laugh, as he fought to keep his eyes open, struggled to ask a simple question.

"Why?"

She chuckled then, a sound thick with tears. Ichigo chuckled, because his request was so ridiculous. It was perhaps the most absurd suggestion her mind had ever received, and in her exhausted state, she could hardly keep from giggling weakly while the tears sank into the bedspread.

Her grip on his hand tightened, and she gently pressed it to her cheek, allowed him to finger her hair as her eyes bore into his, all the warmth and compassion she could possibly feel shining through her pink irises and gradually melting away the utter despair in them.

"Kisshu." As she said his name, she could feel his long nails graze her skin, and the sensation brought a new wave of tenderness to her gaze. She moved her hand around his, pressing his palm against her cheek as an incredible softness took over her voice.

"Kisshu." her voice carried a new confidence in its gentleness, a confidence that eased his breathing, eased his trembling, as his listened to its whispered tone.

"I won't kiss you, Kisshu." The words would have destroyed him had her tone not been so full of sheer compassion, her eyes shining with tender emotion he had always hoped for, yet never truly expected. Her hand was a warm contact against his, and he could feel blessed strength flowing from it, flowing into him as her eyes stayed on his.

Ichigo caressed his temple with the back of her other hand, moving to his forehead and smoothing back his sweaty bangs before her voice returned.

"Because you're not going to die."

That affirmation was all Ichigo needed to escape from her deep despair.

He wasn't going to die. No. Of course not. The thought was stupid, preposterous, and she laughed silently as she continued to run her fingers through his hair.

"You're not going to die," she whispered again, a confirmation, a bold, confident declaration against the wound and the fever.

She would not let him go.

Not like this.

Never.

Not when her mind was swimming with…no… drowning in new possibilities involving that finicky "L" word.

There was no way, not now, when she finally realized, finally grasped it all.

His trust was in her, and there was no chance in hell she was going to throw it away. Not after all he had done. Not after it had awakened these disconcerting, terrifying, confusing, wonderful questions, curious possibilities in her psyche, a psyche that had been so utterly focused on one, that the shock of seeing two was a stinging slap that woke her like nothing ever had before.

"Go back to sleep, Kisshu," she murmured, and the alien did just that. He did it without question, because he had felt the same jolt of doubtless confidence that had revived the girl. A tired smile graced his lips, almost a defiant smirk, as his eyes closed.

Or maybe not…

Ichigo waited only a few moments before deciding that Kisshu was secure enough.

A minute later, she had gotten off the bed and had her cell phone in hand. Leaving the room, standing next to the doorway, she scrolled through her contacts.

She needed help.

He wouldn't die, never like this, but she needed help.

Whom to call? She bit her lip, sudden seriousness overcoming her. Care was needed here; that was certain. Shirogane? No. He wouldn't be quick to help an alien, not by a long shot. Mint? Same. Zakuro? That was so wrong, it almost provoked another laugh.

Onward she scrolled, until a voice sounded in her tense mind.

It seems those people do have feelings…

A gasp, not a laugh, escaped her before she began dialing. Why hadn't she thought of it before?

Please answer…please… you're the only one—

Success! Ichigo's heart leaped when she heard the timid voice of Lettuce.

"Moshi moshi?"

For a moment, Ichigo froze. What was she going to say? Hello, Lettuce, I need you help with a dying alien at my house, could you come over in the next ten minutes?

Somehow, she felt that she couldn't explain herself on the phone. She couldn't risk refusal. Breaking into a cold sweat, suddenly unbelievably nervous, she stammered into the phone.

"L-lettuce? This is… this is Ichigo—"

Lettuce was not one to interrupt. Ever.

However, she sense the intense unease in Ichigo's voice, and her innate compassion flowed through immediately.

"Ichigo-san? Is something wrong?"

In spite of herself, the girl smiled; Lettuce was definitely the right person to call.

It seems those people do have feelings…

She swallowed, the statement bringing back her confidence.

"Lettuce, I need you to come over, ok? Please?"

She could practically see the worry in Lettuce's gaze.

"Is everything all right, Ichigo-san? Should I ca—"

"No! No, Lettuce, don't call anyone. Just come over here! Come over here, and…"

Ichigo was bluntly surprised to find herself thinking clearly. Is there anything I need…? Her mind immediately conjured a checklist: medicine…no…blankets…plenty of those…food…that wouldn't hurt. Actually, the thought of leaving Kisshu alone to go find something to eat brought up a wave of nausea, so she quickly blurted her request into the phone.

"Could you bring some soup? Or something else that's…uh…" How to say this without giving herself away and initiating a conversation she couldn't deal with at the moment? She swallowed nervously, but failed to continue before Lettuce spoke.

"Are you sick, Ichigo-san? Is—"

"No… no, but… please, just come here? Come and bring…just…" she hated herself for stuttering, but all she could focus on was the glaring possibility that Lettuce would refuse, that she would be denied the aid Kisshu so desperately needed.

And if Lettuce refused, whom else could she ask?

"Just… please, Lettuce? I'll explain… when…" she trailed off, biting her lip hard enough now to taste blood as she waited in silence, heart beating so loudly that she was afraid it would drown out the other girl's soft voice.

For a few moments, she thought it was over. For a few heart-stopping seconds, she heard nothing, and was anticipating the dial tone. Then:

"All right. I'll be there in half an hour." She paused as if she wanted to say more, but before Ichigo could beg her to hurry, the connection ended.

Half an hour until what Ichigo hoped was help arrived. Half an hour… what could she do in half an hour?

I should wake Kisshu up. He's gonna have to get up anyway… might as well tell him Lettuce is coming.

Yes, it was definitely best to warn him. The possibility of startling him… she shuddered. Suddenly, the thought of frightening him more made her feel physically ill; it was already bad enough.

He had thought, had been certain, that he was going to die.

The thought of forcing more fear onto him was… simply wrong.

That resolution firmly in place, Ichigo went back into her room and to the bedside, ready to shake Kisshu awake despite her guilt at his just having achieved peaceful sleep a few minutes ago. He needed that sleep so desperately, and he had been so obviously exhausted after having tossed about for so long, suffering from feverish delirium.

Imagine her surprise when she found his golden eyes, fever-bright and half-lidded, but stubbornly focused on her, following her as soon as she re-entered the room.

Blurting out a surprised "Kisshu?", she crouched down at his bedside. He had managed to curl up on his side, and in doing this, she was able to meet him eye-to-eye, more or less, and instantly felt the importance of keeping his gaze while she spoke.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

He took a few seconds to answer, and Ichigo took that moment of silence to slowly reach out and stroke his cheek, fingering on of his pigtails in an effort to lend him some of her strength. It had calmed him before, and the effect was much the same now. He seemed to relax, the dull pain in his eyes lessening some as he found the breath to answer.

"Can't sleep," he mumbled simply before coughing lightly. Ichigo left his hair for his forehead, a small frown settling into her features when she felt the unbearable heat of the alien's skin. Taking the thermometer off the night table, she slid it into his mouth, and he obediently allowed it under his tongue.

Ichigo stood, sitting back down onto the bed beside her charge, returning her hand to the banded strand of hair and gently running her fingers through it, against his skin, while she waited for the thermometer's beep. It didn't take long.

Forty-two… oh my God…

The reading would have made her gasp, should have made her gasp, but she did not want to scare him. Not after their conversation of only a little while ago, a conversation that had shown her just how terrified he was. She simply couldn't.

As it was, she simply stared at it until she felt Kisshu shift underneath her fingers, and her attention snapped back to him. He was watching her with obvious anxiety in his eyes; ill though he was, he was still able to comprehend the worry in her face.

She felt the sudden, urgent need to reinforce what she had told him before.

"You'll be fine, Kisshu." Her hand rested against his cheek, fingers slowly moving against his temple.

"I called a friend. She'll come over soon, and she'll help." With that she paired a small smile.

"Friend? One of the…?" he trailed off into a cough, and she waited until he quieted before nodding.

"Yes, but she's nice. She'll help."

At least, I hope she'll be able to…

Silence for a while, then:

"Ichigo?"

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

She really had to control herself at that point. Really, really had to take a few deep breaths to ward off the threat of tears.

As it was, she froze, her hand suddenly tense against his cheek as she struggled to maintain her calm. It was hard, so unbelievably hard, seeing him trembling under the blankets, weak and flushed and afraid, knowing it was because of her, and then hearing that come from him. Thank you?

"You could have left me," he rasped, eyes straining to meet hers.

Ichigo swallowed, hand resuming its soothing movements against his skin.

My fault… Kisshu, it's because of me you're lying here… how can you…?

She had to fight the emotions down, biting her lip as she desperately fought the outburst that was threatening to break the peace.

Ironically, the boy's illness saved her, forcing another cough from him and giving her a much-needed reason to bury the emotions for the meantime. She reached over to the night table, grabbing a glass and water bottle she had brought some time ago. Waiting until he could breathe freely again, she poured a glassful, asked him to sit up, and supported him as he did so and drank.

"Lie back down," she ordered when he was finished, and was rather surprised when he shook his head weakly.

"Hurts more to breathe when I lie down," he managed to whisper between soft gasps. Ichigo answered this with an anxious nod; she didn't like him having to support himself.

That wave of tenderness, quickly becoming a familiar companion, overtook her again, and she found herself allowing Kisshu to lean against her, head resting on her shoulder as she sat back against the bed's headboard. A few moments confirmed that this position seemed to suit him best, and Ichigo supposed they would remain like this until she had to greet Lettuce and explain the situation. That certainly wasn't a pleasant thought; no matter how kind Lettuce was, the cat girl couldn't even begin to expect anything but shock and disbelief from her. Yet that was not the worst part of it.

Ichigo was much more concerned, infinitely more, by the prospect of leaving Kisshu alone.

The thought of him alone in the room, his weak breaths grating softly against stifling silence brought new tears and nausea.

Almost as if he had sensed her unease, Kisshu nuzzled her shoulder gently, a quiet sigh escaping him before he murmured.

"You smell nice."

This would have inspired much more of a blush if Ichigo hadn't already been through so much in the past two days, but it still managed to call up some pink in her cheeks. It also called up a gentle, almost bashful smile as the girl allowed herself to lay her cheek against the top of his head, finding a pleasant enjoyment in the constant softness of his hair.

Before she could respond, his voice came again.

"I love you."

The way she blinked, total blankness settling into her face, was actually quite comical. The frenzy of thoughts that followed, however, carried all the seriousness of the past couple of days.

He's… h-he's feverish. He doesn't know what he's saying. He's just… just…

He loves you, a calm little voice insisted underneath her own anxiety. He's loved you for a long time… this is a surprise?

No, no, no, he doesn't—

Ah, but he does. He does, he does, and you know it. You know it, so stop lying. And stop lying about—

Shut up! Not now… I have to be calm now!

All of this mental turmoil she took with a calm visage. All of it she responded to only by wrapping a careful arm around her charge and giving him a light, tender squeeze.

These thoughts… they made her stomach ache. They hurt. They hurt so much…

…was this the pain he felt?

She wished she could have shaken her head to dislodge that suggestion; keeping her tranquility was becoming too hard.

Instead, she shifted her focus to Kisshu, who, she realized, had nearly fallen asleep on her. Again, a stab of guilt at having to disturb him; he really did look as if he had finally gotten comfortable, but it would never do if Lettuce was to arrive in a few minutes.

"Kisshu," she shook him lightly, "Lettuce is going to be here soon. Don't fall asleep now."

"Mou… make up your mind," he answered drowsily, and Ichigo bit her lip.

She didn't like the way he was switching between moods, between manners of speaking.

The fever was affecting his mind.

There had to be a way to help him.

For the moment, she could only give him a gentle smile and a soft "Sorry" in an attempt to humor him and keep him awake.

Another cough helped in that department, though it only made Ichigo wince at the obvious pain it caused him. Now she wished Lettuce would hurry up; sleep seemed to be his only respite from that infernal cough.

The wish seemed to work.

Ichigo's ears perked up at the sound of her doorbell.

"That's—"

"Your friend," Kisshu finished, and Ichigo was torn between relief at the fact that he was talking and utter despair at the detached sound of his voice.

"Yeah. I have to…" she trailed off, intensely aware of how much she didn't want to leave him. It was a feeling that her conflicted mind would take advantage of when she argued with herself later. At the moment, it just made her feel awful.

Kisshu, however, obediently, leaned back against the headboard, regarding her with a small smile on his slightly chapped lips.

It occurred to her very abruptly that he was terribly pale, and that scared her. She only realized how much it scared her when the alien boy met her eyes.

"I'm not going to die, Ichigo-chan."

She couldn't tell whether it was a question or a statement, but she knew she was meant to repeat it. She did so with a sweet, tender smile.

"You're not going to die."

With that, she touched his hand once more before heading downstairs to greet Lettuce.

Author's Note: Dear God, I need sleep… Heh. I realize the wait is getting longer between chapters. College apps are due around now, so we're all kinda hectic around here. I'll try to update best I can, but don't worry if the intervals between chapters get long. I'm not dropping the story. If that happens, there will be an announcement, so no fear . Read and review, please!