The Road to Perfection
Dear readers,
Thank you for stopping by and reading this story. I would like to thus thank every single one of you who have left comments, reviews, kudos and follows to this fanfic. We have been on for seventeen weeks now! And that is something, if you ask me! Phew! So, thank you so much for your time and continuous support, really. It makes me wanna write even more when I see people reacting to what I post.
As promised, here is the second part of the previous chapter and with that we are officially about to close this arc. Let's go!
The playlist stays almost unchanged; that is, I used Neffex's 'Tell Me That I Can't,' as the main theme for this segment.
DrDark7 – Thank you for yet another comment! Elton is, indeed, a really peculiar character, whose role is crucial though. Is he the main antagonist or is he an ally? Only time will tell!
Torichan – Thank you for your comments! Haha, I will consider writing an afterstory about how Mint proceeded with her 'interrogation,' but, sadly, it will not be within the main storyline. Sorry about that! With that being said, I hope that you will enjoy the following chapter as well, let me know your thoughts!
Kishlover985 – Thank you for yet another comment! Haha, thank you. Yes, cons are SO much fun! I really can't wait till I attend another one! As for your theories, I would like to hear them! Let me know in the comment section if you guessed it right!
NeKoGirl – Thank you for yet another comment! And, I am so sorry but I thought that splitting would be the best choice, since I did not want to stretch one chapter up to 12 000+ words. Furthermore, I am happy to hear that you find Elton likeable. I like him too, it's just somewhat hard to like him more than Kisshu haha.
KawaiiCutie12 - Thank you for your comment and for joining us with this fic! I am so happy to hear that you enjoy reading this story as much as the reboot. I am totally psyched for the latter as well! Kisshu was my first anime crush ever and, to be honest, I still totally adore him even years later. What about you?
James Birdsong - Thank you for yet another comment! I am glad that you liked the last two chapters. Please do let me know how you feel about this following chapter as well. I am looking forward to hearing your opinion!
As always, please enjoy and review!
I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew
The booming sounds of loud music continued to echo in Ichigo's ears, as she navigated her way through the desolated building complex with unprecedented speed and resolution, her black loafers tapping on the marble floor with each of her following steps. There was no telling of how long she had been running. Nonetheless, when the elevator that was supposed to take her up to Kisshu's floor emerged in her line of sight at last, she mentally sighed in relief, as the robust metal doors quickly shut behind her panting and very much out of breath body. Leaning against one of the stainless steel walls, Ichigo briefly wondered what she should say or do when she met him. Was she expected to declare her undying love for him? Try to kiss him? Wait for him to start? A part of her still wanted to turn back and call this mission off, but the other part, the one that operated on more primitive level, pushed her to move forward towards the feared and the unknown. Besides, it did not matter; whatever she was about to say or do was good; as long as she said or did something.
The moment Ichigo stepped out of the elevator and entered the forty ninth floor, an omnipresent darkness enveloped her silhouette, the techno music in her head finally coming to a quick halt. The long corridor, flanked by a mirror after mirror, stretched out before her and Ichigo squeaked when she caught her own reflection in one of the looking-glass on the opposite wall. From what Mint had told her, it became apparent that she was in the right place. Still, she could not shake off the inexplicable feeling of distress that suddenly engulfed her. Especially with all the pitch-dark blackness into which the whole hall was plunged and the unnerving silence that only accentuated the general creepiness that permeated this perimeter. Such a change did factor in her subsequent movement considerably, as she broke out into a jog at a much slower and more cautious pace. For someone in Ichigo's current state of disposition, it was hard to imagine that there could be any real threat lurking in the shadows, particularly with all the alcohol still flowing in her veins; but Ichigo had learned the hard way that she should never underestimate her cat instincts, since they had very rarely failed to inform her of any impending danger. It was only when she took a sharp turn right and then breezed past another stretch of mirrored corridor that she heard it. She heard them. She heard her. The girl's desperate moans calling him over and over again with such intensity in her tone that Ichigo's cheeks involuntarily flushed with color. Stopping dead in her tracks, Ichigo waited for her eyes to adjust to the all-consuming darkness around her before she craned her neck and squinted over the corner, letting her gaze settle on the scene unraveling in front of her.
In the distance, at the faraway end of the dark hall, pressed against what seemed to be his door, moved two shadows in a frantic rhythm, groping at each other's parts as if there was no tomorrow. Raw cries and throaty groans dispersed the stone dead silence of the corridor, while the heavy make out session was gaining momentum, but before Ichigo could ponder over all the psychological issues this whole situation could produce, one of the gloomy hands swiftly pulled away and reached out to tap something onto the digital pad beside it, causing the door from behind them open and immediately slam shut. Only then did Ichigo fully process what had been happening and what was about to happen next. And once her former shock dramatically faded, a new wave of anger resurfaced, together with a pang of jealousy and hurt that gripped her heart soon afterwards.
Kisshu had always teased her and toyed with her, but there was no way he would ever go this far with her. He would never hold her this tightly; never give her the feel of his weight over her, minus one quick series of heated kissing on the beach which she not only had to instigate but also into which she had to basically coerce him. Just the brief memory of her mouth on his reminded her how much she wanted to know what it felt like to be with him again.
How much she wanted it.
How much she wanted him.
But his arms were wrapped around another girl instead, and that single isolated thought itself made Ichigo's heart smash into million little pieces.
Even though she could no longer see anything anymore, she could imagine perfectly well the face of that girl contorted in maximum pleasure while Kisshu kept devouring her body relentlessly. She did not doubt his ability to not only satisfy but also deliver; a simple statement that was merely reinforced by the incessant muffled noises that remained filling the empty dark hall from the other side of the door.
Ichigo wanted to be strong; wanted to brush it all away as nothing, but each and every of the girl's moans was like a knife slicing through her chest. She wrapped her arms around her body on instinct when the first tear leaked from the corner of her eye and she dashed it away furiously, angry at herself for letting this get to her. But no matter how much she had tried, the smoldering lump in her throat refused to go away.
What was she supposed to do? Stand there? Listen to it? Was the door really closed? Should she try whether it was really closed? Who in the right mind would care about locking the door in the heat of the moment? Again, who in their right mind would want to walk in on somebody who was clearly amid the act of having wild sex? Would he think that she was a stalker if she just barged right in? She was stalking him. If staring at somebody nonstop and running after them the moment they had left was not considered stalking, Ichigo had hard time figuring out what else would.
'He is not your boyfriend, Ichigo! You are in no position to cause a scene,' her conscience ventured to reason with her, "And, don't try to convince yourself you are feeling this way for Yuri's sake either.'
Now, that held true.
Paralyzed, Ichigo continued to hypnotize the conspicuously vacant spot in front of her, as the hot tears began streaming down her face.
She knew for a fact it was him, it must have been him. The girl was even calling his name! If only she could-
"What are you doing in here, old hag?" her ears perked at the familiar smug voice but before she could react, Taruto appeared beside her, making her involuntarily shriek and land on her rear in an extremely un-ladylike manner.
"Wow, I knew you were weird but that you were weird and perverted, I had no idea," he watched her with fair amusement.
"S-shut up, twerp," Ichigo half-whispered, half-hissed, her wet cheeks hot with embarrassment.
At this, Taruto's eyes glowed with mischief.
"Soooo, what do you wanna do now? Wanna open the door? Make ourselves announced?"
"NO!" Ichigo quickly snatched his wrist in protest, but did not gather enough courage to meet his mocking gaze just yet.
When the female cries gradually intensified, getting louder and more urgent with every second, however, Ichigo's hands started to shake with uncontrollable tremor and she tightened her hold on Taruto's arm in a similar way how a drowning person would grasp at their last straw.
Desperate and breathless.
She had to leave. Not leaving meant the possibility of bursting into tears all over again. And she did not want to cry anymore.
"Just get me out of here, would you?" she muttered in a low tone, when she finally got her voice back.
He regarded her for a minute and then shrugged.
"Sure, grab my hand."
They appeared back on the bar at the club venue within the next second and Taruto ordered their drinks before Ichigo could even recover from the teleportation travel and get a hold of herself. As he handed her the strawberry juice, he gave her a weird look of concern.
"Are you really ok, hag?" Taruto asked, genuine worry etched in his face.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she responded flatly.
Nonetheless, when the female cries replayed in her mind again, Ichigo quickly grabbed her glass and downed its contents in one big gulp. She wished it was real alcohol. This juice did nothing to alleviate her sorrow, or to erase the tape of her short-time memory.
"Do you want some more?" Taruto inquired, casually sipping his own drink.
"Sure. But can they add alcohol to it?"
"Weird, perverted and an alcoholic. What a weird combo!" Taruto shook his head.
"Never mind then," Ichigo exhaled, as she slumped back on her bar stool, feeling that the night so far had been a complete and utter failure.
Taruto stared at her for a moment before another glass of strawberry juice, now with vodka, appeared in his hand. He gingerly passed it to her and she downed it again in one go.
This time, though, Ichigo felt its burning effect.
Thank god.
One pleading look his way notified Taruto that one glass was not quite enough to remedy her situation. Knowing full well he would regret it later, he protruded some more and handed them to Ichigo who, smiling back gratefully, gulped them one by one without second guessing.
"Hey, slow down! I don't wanna drag you home too! It's enough that I gotta drag Pudding!"
Ichigo smiled and looked at the young alien with affectionate eyes.
"You're such a good boy, Taruto. You try to mask it and all but on the inside, you're really nice. I'm happy that you're going out with Pudding," Ichigo cooed when she saw how Taruto's cheeks tinted with color.
"We are NOT going out!"
"Yea, yea. For sure," she waved him away and continued to space off, enjoying the sensation of the alcohol slowly sinking into her skin.
She automatically shuddered with delight at the intense feeling.
"Listen, why were you in Kisshu's compartments today? It's not like you should go there, considering," Taruto paused, thinking about the correct word, "your history and stuff."
Ichigo nodded and slumped further down on her bar stool.
"I just really wanted to see him, you know. I miss him, Taruto. I miss talking to him so much."
"You sure that you miss just the talking?" he asked suggestively, while Ichigo groaned in exasperation.
"You know everyone in the army knows that you two did far more than to talk. I'm surprised Yuri has not had you hanged by now."
And then it struck her. Yuri was away. She was not in the city. So who was the girl Kisshu was with?
Her eyes widened in realization before anger took over.
"You knew it wasn't Yuri!" Ichigo stated; it was not a question, just a declaration of the now obvious fact.
"Of course I knew," Taruto conceded, letting out a small smile, "It rarely is."
Hearing this, Ichigo's head instantly shot up in his direction and Taruto cast his eyes away, taking a deliberate pause, as if to decide where to go with this new piece of information.
It took a while until Ichigo heard him talk again.
"If I tell you a secret, will you keep it?"
"Of course. Drunk and dead people never kiss and tell," she chuckled at her own joke ruthlessly.
What worse could possibly happen to her today? She was being lied to, made a move on, frightened, humiliated and caught spying on someone who had been copulating; she would believe in anything at this point, even if it was a lie.
Taruto eyed her for a second, mildly wincing at her drunken antics.
"Cat got your tongue?" Ichigo laughed. It was all too silly.
Taruto exhaled sharply and looked her straight in the eye.
"Kisshu still loves you. It does not matter. Yuri or any other girl. He is still crazy only about you. That is why he has so many flings. Yuri is simply not a replacement enough for you. None of these girls are, really. But I guess it's better than nothing," he scratched his chin as in deep thought.
Ichigo flinched and then froze, when the meaning of Taruto's words finally hit her. She rounded on him, searching the lines of his face intently, trying to find any indication of a lie. When she had found none, confusion came over her features shortly after, before it consequently morphed into a weird mixture of desperation and outrage.
"But it makes no sense, Taruto! He does not want me! He specifically told me that. Right into my face! I basically threw myself at him and he coldly rejected me!" Ichigo's ears grew hot at this memory. It was the alcohol speaking now, but she had nothing to lose; and Taruto evidently had all the answers she had been looking for.
"Right," he scoffed, "you really are a dumb old hag."
No sooner could Ichigo retort than Pudding appeared and tackled the little alien into a tight hug, cutting their former conversation short. The Mew Mew leader watched their exchange with curious happiness, temporarily forgetting about her woes and sorrows at the sight of such innocent, genuine affection. However much Taruto fought Pudding, it was obvious that he harbored deep feelings for her. But maybe it was part of their Cyniclon culture; never to let on how they really felt; regardless of circumstances, rather hiding their true emotions behind a mask of schooled indifference or arrogant mockery. Perhaps it was only that Kisshu was on Earth, outside of his environment, and outside of his social norms, that he had let go and told her how he had truly felt about her on the spur of the moment. But now, back on Cyclonia, what if he simply hesitated not only due to his engagement to Yuri but also due to the constricting Cyniclon social standards? Could it really be that they could all fuck, flirt and tease with no remorse, but when it came to serious commitment and expressing feelings, they were at a loss?
Ichigo was so caught up in her head that it took a little longer for her to realize that Pudding's hand had been waving in front of her face, signaling that she and Taruto were on their way, leaving her alone back to her own thoughts.
But that was okay.
Ichigo knew now that he was in love with her; that despite how much he had rebuked it in the past, she was still dear to him. The only difficulty sprang from the fact that Ichigo had to somehow force him to admit that out loud.
That and that she had less than twenty-four hours to do so.
The display of the alarm clock glared viciously at her tired, sleepy face.
It was 11 am.
11 am was a good time, Ichigo should have thought.
Good enough to have everyone awake by now, and with all possible company from the previous night on their merry way out. For that matter.
Not that she wanted to think about that.
Not now when her spirits were so high again, and when what she needed the most was to concentrate, which proved slightly challenging considering her massive hangover.
Still, there was no time to waste.
Yuri was getting back tomorrow, so this was really Ichigo's last chance. And, depending, how it went down, Tokyo Mew Mew would either go home or stay on Cyclonia.
Ryou should be fine with the outcome either way, as his research could be carried out remotely as well, and with the way how Mint and the others acted, it was obvious that they would follow Ichigo's decision, no questions asked.
Ryou, huh? Why do I feel so guilty about not telling him anything?
As of lately, Ichigo had tried to avoid her blonde boss at any cost, which was not that hard, since his and Pai's research took the majority of their time. It was not out of respect or consideration for his work though; that was not the real reason why Ichigo had kept her intentions in secret.
She was scared.
Because she knew that unlike the Mews, Ryou would never approve of her plan and that sullen notion slightly saddened her.
"You don't seem nervous. That's a pleasant surprise," Mint observed from her chair, where she had been sitting for the past half an hour, idly sipping her tea and flitting through a couple of magazines of her choice.
"That's because I am not. At least not now," Ichigo confessed, staring at the white ceiling absentmindedly.
It was true. She had always been so nervous whenever she was to approach Kisshu that, in the end, her nervousness had always gotten the best of her and she ended up accomplishing nothing; a rather counterproductive effort, she thought. If Ichigo wanted to make it work this time, she would have to broach the subject matter calmly, or, at least, as calm as possible; in very similar fashion to what Kisshu had done when he had taken her to the royal garden after their sparring match. To stay calm was really key here; screaming at him did not seem to work and provoking him might have won her a temporary satisfaction, but once he had snapped back in focus, it was lost and she could start all over again. The thing was Kisshu was very astute; and if Ichigo wanted to beat him, she had to play by the rules of his own game and that meant some serious keeping of appearances; and very collected appearances at that.
"By the way, are you really going to see him dressed like that?"
Collected and very mundane appearances.
Ichigo chose to very plainly ignore Mint's incredulous comment, as she finished putting on her clothes. She had to admit that, in comparison to all the other times Kisshu and her encountered each other, Ichigo was presently looking as disheveled as ever. This time, she had not invested not even an ounce in her looks. Looks got her nowhere with Kisshu last time, and something told her that today wouldn't be any different; which is why she had put on the first thing that she came upon, a loose white shirt with little red hearts on it and a pair of black leggings. It covered her body so it fulfilled its primary function; the rest was up to her brain and mouth, to get her message across.
"Yes," Ichigo answered simply and the finality of her voice made Mint not want to push the topic any further.
The more Ichigo had thought about it, the more she had become convinced that if there was a way of getting Kisshu to talk, she would have to be serious about what she said and not count on her body to do the job for her.
She wanted his rapt attention on her face, not on her breasts.
Besides, Ichigo had no intention of using the elevator to get to his place anyway, too appalled at what seeing the spot where she had caught him earlier that night might do to her newly-built determination.
Better safe than sorry.
That included any unnecessary emotion, or emotional stimuli, which might trigger her.
"You sure you want to do it? Now that your face doesn't look as dreadful as your clothes, I'm almost tempted to talk you out of this," Mint exhaled as she sent Ichigo a wary look.
"I will be fine," she replied and, once she caught Mint's expression, she smiled and further added, "Thank you, though. I wouldn't be here without you."
And she meant it.
After what Mint had done for her, Ichigo knew that she would owe the blue lorikeet Mew big time. And, that sooner or later, Mint would use it against her as a leverage. Ichigo just hoped it would be later rather than sooner.
"That goes without saying," Mint nodded and Ichigo almost felt that perhaps her doubts about Mint were unfair, and completely unfounded; until a sly smirk crept on her companion's lips and she continued, "I will make sure you cover all my shifts at the café once we get back home and, in the meantime, I will also try and find some further use for you. My shoes could use some serious polishing, indeed."
Never mind that.
Why did Ryou and Mint always treated her as their personal slave? Was it even humanly possible to switch from being hot towards cold within a mere span of a few seconds? But one apprehensive glance at Mint solidified that her theory was presumably correct.
Out of nowhere, Mint stood up and walked towards Ichigo before pulling her into a hug.
"M-Mint?" the auburn haired girl asked in surprise, not quite sure whether she understood what had just happened, or whether her inner thoughts really were that obvious.
Mint eased away and gave Ichigo a warm smile, which made all the previous mixed thoughts instantly disappear.
"You won't hear me say that often, Ichigo, so listen carefully. No matter what happens, it's alright. We've got you. Don't feel bad and only focus on yourself, ok?"
When Mint saw her best friend's eyes widen, she grinned, as a strange sense of calmness filled her gaze.
"Now, go and get him! Good luck!"
Kisshu woke up the next day to the feeble light coming into his room through the dark curtains. He was quite surprised at how early it was, taking into consideration what a night it had been. His shoulders still felt tense and the neck pain that was zinging through his body in regular intervals only served as another indicator of how badly he had slept lately. This festival was getting annoying and Kisshu cursed when he realized that he started sounding just like Taruto.
He rubbed his still dream filled eyes with his palm and remained sprawled in his bed in the shadows, too afraid that the light could expose his tainted soul. He was happy that the girl had already left at night, probably around the time he had been in the shower. It was easier that way anyways. Less work. Not that he cared. It was just a temporary distraction that meant absolutely nothing. And yet, he could not dispose of the weird feeling that there was something truly peculiar about last night. It felt different.
But why?
The sex was, for the lack of better word, tolerable. It did loosen up his body a little, for which he was immensely grateful, but otherwise it was nothing out of ordinary. Just another hot night with someone whose name he could not even remember but whose little flashbacks temporarily streamed through his thoughts. She was responsive alright and she seemed to be opting for nothing more than a short, mildly satisfying mating, which was perfect, actually. No need for perfunctory words or useless chitchat; no real effort required. It was easy, perhaps, too easy and maybe that was the real problem. There was something completely lacking in regards to these quick encounters he had had. They were not satisfying enough. Not anymore; the rush had faded way too quickly, as he knew it would. It always did.
One thing stayed in his mind though, and that was the very reason why he had chosen that girl to spend a night with him in the very first place. There were streaks in her hair, dark red, auburn, and for a second, in that dim-lit room of his with only moonlight illuminating them, Kisshu could imagine, or better yet, lose himself to the fantasy of what it would be like to be with her. That it was her whose lips came crashing at his with maddening intensity; that it was her body that trembled and writhed under his skilled touch; that these loud cries belonged to her and her only.
He wanted to believe that he was with Ichigo, if only for a moment.
Sadly, a moment too short.
It seemed somewhat ridiculous to Kisshu, how he could even in the aftermath of sex still feel as depressed as before. But, being a prodigy and a military hero, Kisshu had often managed to succeed where others had failed. This apparently pertained to his sexual needs as well, for, physically, he was satisfied, but mentally? That was a whole different story.
And it was all her fault.
He gritted his teeth together at his dark thoughts.
In truth, Kisshu had tried to erase Ichigo from his memory many times in the past; but it was nowhere as difficult as it was now when he had her around him almost constantly. He was aware that he had to forget. Somehow. Anyhow. Even if it meant spending every night with a different girl to quell his insatiable thirst for her. Anything but to go crazy or lose control. Last night, tonight or any other night for that matter. As long as the luscious visions of her curvy body finally left his mind alone.
God, he needed a cold shower.
Kisshu thought of going training, since exercise usually helped to soothe his sensitive nerves, but his strained muscles protested almost immediately at this preposterous suggesstion. Plus, it was definitely a little early for him to go and ask Elton to fight with him, which basically led to another grim realization; Kisshu had nothing planned for today and an annoyed scowl crossed his expression, while his lips instinctively pressed into firm unamused line. He hated days like these because they let his thoughts freely wander and often end up around a certain pink-haired Mew.
Not today.
He reached out and pulled his sweats over his boxers, as he got up from his bed, and put on his nightgown idly before staggering across his room.
A fresh air was what he acutely needed. More than cold shower or sex. He knew that a fresh breeze of morning air could do wonders to one's body and that it should be enough to fill his lungs with a newly-found touch of freedom and allow him to wind down at last.
He opened the window and let his gaze drift into the distance, reveling in the beautiful scenery his view offered. Everywhere he looked, he could see a flock of birds flying across the sky and a line of palm trees swaying from side to side under the light touch of the windy weather that moved them. It all appeared serene and almost ideal to finally make Kisshu's mind relax, before an unexpected occurrence caught his attention, interrupting his false sense of solace in an instant.
First he spotted one leg, then another and, at last, the full image of Ichigo came into sight.
Kisshu flinched, as if seeing a ghost, and she used that moment of surprise to bend her knees and jump inside.
"Watch out," she screamed once she hurled herself in and Kisshu barely let out her name when he saw her tumbling form in the air, the pull of gravity eventually making both of their bodies fall on the carpeted ground underneath them.
It was soft and warm.
And Ichigo had a feeling that if that weirdly pulsing floor under her did not move up and down every other second, she could lie like this forever. Until the notion that floors usually do not move, nor pulse, snapped her effectively out of her daze.
Was it some kind of inception?
She paused and peeled her eyelids slowly open, ready to evaluate the pros and cons of her current unsteady situation, only to be met with Kisshu's golden wide-eyed stare, when she finally raised her gaze.
"What are you doing in here? I thought cats only climbed trees, not sixty story tall buildings or people," he asked, shock evident in his voice.
'That's right. You are in Kisshu's room. Practically fell through his window and killed him too. Man, what a klutz,' Ichigo silently wailed, having suddenly somewhat hard time deciding whether she still had it in her to be a Mew Mew or not.
Was she out of her job a little too long for her cat genes to really kick back in?
Realizing she had not moved an inch away from Kisshu, Ichigo squeaked and quickly scrambled away from his lap.
Well at least he was awake, it would be way more embarrassing, not to mention traumatizing, to fall through his window and wake him up in the process. Talk about real life trauma.
"I-I wanted to see you," she finally admitted, massaging the back of her neck in sheer embarrassment.
"Is that so?" he propped himself on his elbows, as he peered at her from his position still on the floor, "that's cute," he answered with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
When she did not reply, he sighed and got up, his feet moving him immediately to the cabinet next to his coffee table. He procured a bottle of some liquid substance that definitely looked alcoholic and poured himself a drink.
He took a sip and eyed her warily.
It was then at that precise moment that Ichigo could tell that his walls were coming up.
"You want a glass?" he gestured to the bottle still sitting on the top of the cabinet.
"Is-is there alcohol in it?" she ventured cautiously and Kisshu stared back at her with a complicated look on his face, as if torn between are-you-for-real or what-else-would-it-be-duh.
"Yes."
"Eh? Then, NO! I don't drink, not anymore!" she mentally winced at her drunken antics from her ordeal last night and face palmed.
Drinking anything even remotely alcoholic was out of question, maybe for the rest of her life.
Kisshu studied her facial expression the whole time and he resumed talking only after his glass left his lips.
"Why are you here, Ichigo? And, more importantly, how did you get here?"
"Hm…I just really wanted to see you. As for how, I can climb walls, blame my Mew genes," she grinned sheepishly.
"You wanted to see me? Why?" he inquired, not missing a beat, as he took another sip.
Ichigo drank in the sight of how his night gown opened ever so slightly whenever he bent his arm in a certain manner, and she could not help but blush at the display of the exposed skin on his chest. He was not wearing his military uniform and, instead, she saw him, for what must have been the first time, in what looked like alien sweats with the waistband of his boxers peeking out; a vision which made it extremely difficult for Ichigo to form coherent sentences at the present moment. Seeing him in such informal attire was strange and simultaneously exciting. Somehow, it made their encounter less professional in her eyes. It was usually Kisshu that had always some sort of official uniform on him, reminding him constantly of his position. But now, dressed so leisurely, Ichigo felt like she could for the first time actually have a chance because there was no physical reminder of his obligations in the Cyniclon society in her way.
"Honestly? I just really missed you."
At this, the alien let out a small sigh and put his drink aside.
"Well, now you saw me," he said, smiling again with emotion that his face did not relay.
"You're not gonna ask me to sit down?"
There was a pause.
"No. In fact, you're leaving."
Ichigo felt his fingers around her wrist and she gasped when he whirled her around and started to walk her out. It was incredible how even such a minimal physical contact sent an instantaneous shiver down her body like an electric wire. The warm weight of his hand burned her, making her whole arm tingle. Ichigo looked away, trying her best to resist the feeling of trepidation.
Yo, concentrate!
That was correct. Best not to draw attention to it. Fangirling would get her nowhere; if anything it would make Kisshu majorly pissed, even more than he was now, she would assume. She took a deep breath through her nose and let her mind regain focus. If she wanted him, she had to be upfront about her objective.
No more detours.
Swallowing the panic rising in her throat, Ichigo stopped short and he turned back in question when he felt her arm tug back at his.
"Anything else?" he asked, while a sense of uncomfortable silence befell upon the both of them.
She stared down at his hand still holding hers and then back at his face.
"Mm yeah. Actually. I did wanna ask you something else too."
"Well then, shoot," he replied briskly, arching an impatient eyebrow at her as he cocked his head to the side.
Ichigo looked at him knowing full well this was truly her last opportunity. It all boiled down to this. All these feelings, all these tears, all this pain. And whatever the outcome would be, she was ready to take it.
Here comes nothing.
She moistened her lips before parting them and fearlessly asking, "Who was that girl yesterday by the way?"
Kisshu momentarily froze and Ichigo observed him carefully, gauging for any reaction in his unblinking eyes, but if her question surprised him, he did not let it show. Notwithstanding, his gaze was different now. Suspicious and scrutinizing.
She wondered what was going on in his head.
"What girl?"
"Don't play dumb, I saw you!"
'And heard you too,' she internally cringed but did not say anything.
"You saw me? When?" he looked amused and something about that expression had made Ichigo want to slap him hard all over again.
"Here in your room, you idiot. I saw you fucking another girl and it sure as hell was not Yuri! Aren't you quite a lover?"
Calm. Down.
Kisshu smirked and his eyes glazed over; a telling sign that she had hit the nail on its head.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he yawned, while he let go of her hand and her gaze followed his slow, almost deliberate, stretching, "I was alone yesterday night. Went to bed early in fact. Maybe you really went insane. Crazy people happen to be seeing things," he offered, grinning wildly.
Ichigo looked at him in wonder.
If she had not seen him, she might have believed him. She knew for a fact that all of her theatricals definitely fell into the category bat-shit crazy. Oh boy, he did not have to tell her that. But she could not help it; if what Taruto had told her last night was the truth then that meant that what Kisshu right now was pulling was just another of his tricks of emotional manipulation. She was so tired of pretending, of this perfect façade which was actually as imperfect as ever and now she finally knew what she needed to do to make things right.
If it implied engaging Kisshu in another of her fits of hysteria, then so be it. If that meant slapping him senseless, she would do that. Why couldn't he understand that what he was doing right now was wrong? She briefly entertained the thought about her former promise to keep her emotions at bay.
'Goodbye my composure and self-control,' she mentally saluted.
Before the sorrow in her eyes was chased out by anger and, Ichigo, against her better judgement, burst into a fit of uninhibited fury.
"How dare you?! How dare you lie to me like that? Again?! And when I saw you! Not only that! I HEARD you, Kisshu! Every single grunt and moan. You think I wanted to see THAT? Hell no! I did not want to see you all over someone else last night! But it just happened, so there is no reason for you to lie anymore! And before you say anything, I know that the girl who was crying your name out loud was NOT Yuri! So who is fooling around now, heh? What does that girl have that I have not? Are her legs thinner? Is her face prettier? Does she have a better rack? How can you tell me you can't be with me and you have no qualms about spending a night with a different girl?! And save your lies, Taruto told me! I know that the girl from yesterday is not the only one! Why are you doing this to me? Are you punishing me for all the years back when I was rejecting you?! If you wanted to teach me a lesson, then here LESSSON LEARNED! Are you satisfied by now? You know as well as I do that I will do anything for you so hit me with whatever you've got but PLEASE don't ignore me and don't lie to me because that breaks my heart. How much more do I have to beg you to believe me?! I love you, you idiot!"
She did it this time. She clapped a hand over her mouth once she finally got everything out of her system. By saying it, she had made it a reality and the sudden weight of it finally came crushing over her like a tidal wave, sweeping her up in the storm of strong emotions. She knew she crossed the line. And she also knew that she had just made the situation even more difficult for both of them. But she had to know if what Taruto had told her was really true. Even if it meant a one way ticket from Cyclonia to Earth.
Kisshu just stared.
First she thought he was going to hit her but he stood motionless, sort of shell shocked even, with his eyes fixed on something in the distance.
It took a moment or two for his pupils to finally dilate, as he reset his gaze back onto her.
She was aware of the tears pooling in her eyes. She was also conscious that she must have looked terrible after her little emotional outburst, all flushed and heaving like a heavy smoker after finishing a marathon. But she did not care. He had to know. And now he knew. And come what may. Her conscience was clear and she would never have to reprimand herself for not having conveyed to him how she actually felt.
"I'm sorry," he said with his eyes locked on hers. They shone with such brilliant intensity that she thought she would get scorched, should she turn away, "but I can't take it anymore," he whispered thickly, with real feeling.
"Wh-what?"
Ichigo managed to choke out when, all of a sudden, she sensed a swift pull on her wrist and before she knew it, she was flying forward as his lips crashed on hers in one fluid motion. There was no time to recover; nor to think; neither to breathe, the moment Kisshu began to kiss her with total abandon. She felt his lips, his hands, his body and she could only wish this would be them forever, together, like that. As her top left her form, she vaguely registered the open window in his room but she did not care. The sensation that was coursing through her body, no their bodies, was far too strong to stop them. With them there was no stopping. Never. This was how it felt right. This was different from Masaya's soft touch and Ryou clinical approach. With Kisshu, she felt passion, love and lust altogether. Hands slipped, bodies taut, loud gasps, bone-shattering desperation; this fateful morning, their worlds collided and all the walls built up around themselves came crumbling down at last. She knew that the longer it continued, the more complicated their lives would be. But she could not give a damn. And from the looks of it, neither did he. They were on the road to perfection.
When she wrapped her tongue around his, causing a pleasurable shudder to run through him, Kisshu emitted a thick, choked moan from the back of his throat. He broke the kiss and he was breathing heavily, almost crazed by the way she had made him feel.
"I love you too," he murmured against her lips and with those words he closed the distance between them yet again, leaving no space to argue nor question his proclamation.
There was only pleasure, lots of pleasure and the tingling between Ichigo's legs that she had first tasted back during their sparring match came gradually back in full force. All she could do was cling helplessly to Kisshu's shoulders, her nails making little half-crescent moon indentations in his skin, while his hands kept travelling up and down her body. She felt her hold on his neck tighten when he gave her ass a light squeeze and a faint tremor carried down her spine, raw with desire, as his teeth sank into the soft flesh of her neck. There were probably zillions of thoughts rushing through her head at the present moment, but the only one thing Ichigo could presently focus on was his body flushed against hers leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. She wanted the clothes off, the legs spread and him even closer to her. And, Kisshu must have understood her train of thinking, for he made sure that he tended to her needs accordingly; his touch on her skin as urgent as ever, his kisses even more desperate. This time, he did not stop her when her hand reached down to pull the waistband of his pants, knowing full well there was nothing holding them back now.
They were past everything; there was no point of return.
She squeaked when he suddenly gripped her hips hard and motioned her towards the bed frame; to her surprise, her body urged her to follow his lead almost immediately.
With a small thud, they landed on the silk green sheets.
And everything that happened after that went blank.
