X.X.X.X.X.X.

Ichigo sat in her chair, rubbing the hole in her arm where she had been shot. Growling in discontent, she shot up and kicked the cabinet. She was angry.

Why had she allowed herself to say 'picnic'? She was fine with the others having a picnic with other people, but she herself did not trust any human—or alien, for that matter. It was clear that the Fool was not of the human species; only partly at best.

That angered her more. Why would humans allow aliens to live peacefully with them, yet revolt against the Mews, who kept to themselves and were generally peaceful? It was human domination; that was the only logical answer. Humans—and aliens, for that matter—only have a short time to live before going off into the after-life. Mews, on the other hand, stay age twenty for all eternity once they reach that age, and can only be killed by physical wounds.

That must have been another reason they did not agree with Mews. They lived forever while humans could only hope for 90 if they lived a perfect life. Aliens could live for hundreds of years, but eventually die as well.

Sighing, Ichigo limped into her room and prepared for the night's events. She opened her wooden chest next to her bed and pulled out her ninja suit; the most flexible fabric ever created. It was something her father had entrusted to her when she was small, saying that one day she would find it more useful, and sooner or later she would be able to fit into it.

How cliché.

Ichigo grabbed onto the gloves, stroking the black fabric gently. She couldn't wait until the night passed over the town. She would finally be able to steal her most prized possession.

The Sword of Shintaro.

That Sword had belonged to her father, before he was killed in the final battle of the Mew War—as it was often called. It had been placed in a museum to be ogled by everyone that walked into the city. They spat at it, threw things at it, and did everything they could to try to destroy the great Sword. In fact, the Sword was so priceless, and people kept trying to destroy it, they assigned guards to stand next to it and insure its safety. If it was destroyed during one of their shifts, the penalty was death.

That's their fault, Ichigo thought. I don't pity the man who is on guard when I steal that.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

Chapter Five: Theft Number One: Part One

Retasu returned to her home two hours later, after lollygagging around the river and racing through the fields. She then stopped before going home to swim.

Retasu loved the sea above all other things. She loved any kind of water to swim in. Swimming was her talent, her forte, her animal in a way. In fact, she couldn't transform unless she was near water, or she would suffocate. She was a water animal. To transform nowhere near water would be suicide to her.

Shrugging, the reluctant Retasu came back to the house, a little less than soaking wet. The sun was nearly all the way down, and she needed to be home to help Ichigo into her uniform.

They were getting the big artifact today.

The Sword of Shintaro meant a lot to everyone in the group, but to Ichigo, it was the world. Shintaro had been her father, before he was slaughtered in the Mew War. Ichigo would do anything to get that sword back. It rightfully belonged to her: the new Chieftain of the Mew Tribe. Of course, there were only five of them left, but they were planning to repopulate.

Retasu opened the door to their house and looked around. It was pitch dark, except for a candle burning in the farthest room.

Ichigo's.

"Ichigo-san!" Retasu trotted over to the room and stepped inside. The others were helping her into her suit. "I'm sorry I'm late. It won't happen again, I promise." Retasu bowed deeply, her face reddening.

"It's alright, Retasu. It's just once." Minto answered for Ichigo. The bird-child wound the fabric around Ichigo's middle.

"Do you need any assistance?" Retasu offered. Ichigo shook her head, grinning.

"Just tell us how the meeting with the boys went." She ordered. Retasu nodded.

"They arranged for the day after tomorrow." Retasu explained. Ichigo grunted in approval.

"Perfect." She said. "You did well, Retasu. Great job."

"There is another thing, Ichigo-san," Retasu reluctantly said, raising a hand lightly into the air. "A man there—his name is Keiichiro—he studies Mews."

Everyone stopped moving, staring at Retasu.

"Oh?" Ichigo perked up. "What did he tell you?"

"He showed me a picture of Shintaro, Ichigo-san. The picture had you in it, with just your back showing. He will recognize you if you use your last name." Retasu explained again, her voice getting quieter.

"Very well, I shall use a different name." Ichigo nodded.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

Kisshu paced around the museum, keeping close watch of the Sword of Shintaro. Oh, how he long to see it up in flames with the rest of the Mew Tribe! That instrument of death sat silently—almost deathly—on its podium, the gold hilt wrapped in a fine linen, and the blade crusted over with blood.

Kisshu was supposed to be one of the guards for the Sword. His shift would end soon, and he would be able to collect his wage and go home. Truthfully, his shift had ended at least an hour ago, but Joka never showed up until it was plenty late. Kisshu was underpaid for his overtime, which always happened. If Joka wasn't late, Kisshu would be sure something was wrong.

This night, though, he felt something. Something was going to happen. His hair was standing on-end and his eyes were now more alert.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

The sun set rather slowly that night, taking its time joyfully, prolonging Ichigo's anxiety. Many times she had walked passed the monument of her Sword, and she knew the place by heart. But something about this night gave her a slight pang of guilt. She shrugged it off. The sun was almost gone, so Ichigo would soon have to make her way to the museum.

"Be safe, Ichigo!" Minto squeezed her friend tightly.

"We're waiting here for you na no da!" Purin threw a fist into the air.

"Give a howl if you need help, alright?" Zakuro insisted. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"We all will, Ichigo-san." Retasu added, forgetting her animal for an instant. Ichigo eyed her, making the green-haired lady purse her lips. "I can be a decoy without transforming, you know."

"I know."

"So be off!" Minto pushed Ichigo abruptly out of the door, receiving a squeak of surprise from the cat-girl. Minto slammed the door shut and placed her body weight on it. She let out a sob.

There were going to be surprises tonight.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

Keiichiro sat in his favorite chair, in his favorite corner, reading his favorite Mew book. He kept staring at the same picture with Momomiya Shintaro in it. That girl he was holding—she seemed so familiar.

"Hey, Pai. Come here." He beckoned Pai, who floated over.

"Hmm?"

Keiichiro pointed at the small girl in her checkered jumpsuit, her legs kicking furiously out underneath her.

"Doesn't she look like that girl Kisshu sh—had problems with?"

Pai raised an eyebrow, studying the picture.

"A little."

"Hmmm…." Keiichiro rubbed his chin.

"Why? What's so wrong about that? She's probably dead." Pai chuckled.

"Well, the resemblance is remarkable, and look at that…." Keiichiro placed a magnifying glass at the girl's neck, revealing a scratch. A huge scar. "Seen that before?" Pai gasped.

"That was on that girl!" He remembered. "It wasn't too unnoticeable."

"But there's a problem." Keiichiro debated. "This couldn't be her."

"How come?" Pai asked. "It makes sense."

"Because you see this book?" Keiichiro held the book in front of Pai, who nodded.

"Yes, I see it."

"It was made sixty years ago."

THE END!

Whoa, huge hanger. Wait until next chapter. And YES, I updated! I'll put up the rest when I type it up. I have a spelling bee tomorrow, so wish me luck guys! Please review!