No More Pulse

Dear readers,

Thank you for stopping by and reading this story. I would like to hereby thank you all for your undying patience with me, for your comments, reviews, follows, as well as all of your kudos! ＾▽＾

Last time on Libidinous, we had quite a cliffhanger, did we not? Sorry, sorry! I hate splitting, but I hate writing chapters 10 000+ words even more T_T. What will happen to Kisshu and Ichigo next? Is this really the end for them? Or is there any chance for reconciliation? We still have a LOT of chapters to go!

The music I used for this part is Barren Gates and M.I.M.E's 'Enslaved.'

Guest - Thank you for your comment! It makes me really happy to read that you enjoyed the last chapter so much. We are in for more, and with a regular Thursday update at that. Yayy!

Lulyy Elizabeth Vaca - Thank you for your comment! Yes, Ichigo's decision to cut ties with Kisshu was rather unexpected, wasn't it? Will she be able to stand her ground? Or will she subdue to her urges and feelings? That is yet to be found out.

BettaDream - Thank you for your comment! I am really happy to hear that you enjoyed the last chapter so much. On we go with regular updates. Hurray!

DrDark7 - Thank you for your comment! Haha, yes. We are definitely in for some more fighting and dramatic tension. That is a given! How things will turn out in the end is yet to be decided, though.

Sorakitten - Thank you for your comment! I am so happy to hear that you enjoy all the drama. I can promise you that there is a lot more to come. So get ready!

Lilith - Thank you for your comment! That is actually quite an exciting prediction! Mint and Masaya teaming up against Kisshu and Ichigo has never actually crossed my mind, but now that you've mentioned it, I really like that idea!

AnimeRoxx - Thank you for your comment! I am so glad that you enjoyed reading the last chapter so much. Cliffhangers are terrible, I totally agree. All the more, when some real drama is involved!

As always, please enjoy and review!

I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew

As far as the break ups were concerned, Ichigo could scarcely argue that she was anywhere close to being an expert in that field. However, even someone as unversed as her was acutely aware that hurt pride and hard feelings were one of the most important things that the majority of guys did not take lightly.

There were obviously differences in how badly one's words and approach could affect a guy's behavior and, by extension, his ego. But something told Ichigo that Kisshu's reaction would be thousand times worse than Masaya's, when she had informed him about their imminent separation.

And, from the looks of it, she was not wrong.

Almost on instinct, Ichigo's hand fished for her pendant when the alien's gaze suddenly streaked a darker shade of amber, the menacing glare still in place.

"Mew Mew Strawberry Meta-" she tried to transform, yet his sai had made that impossible.

With one quick, precise movement, he had hit the metallic golden object in between her fingers with laser accuracy, causing it to fly out of her reach and thwarting her initial plan to engage him in a fair battle instantaneously.

Shit.

"Now, without you being able to change, how exactly do you intend to fight me, I-chi-go?" a cruel smile was tugging at Kisshu's lips, as his sharp, intense eyes flashed dangerously.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She definitely should have thought about that before they had started arguing. That was one hell of a bad tactics on her behalf. And, with the way how he was slowly advancing towards her, with his sais in each of his hands, Ichigo knew that she was at a complete disadvantage now. And she certainly felt like it too; considering that she was totally alone, powerless, and, with the sun already setting down, making everything around her a shade dimmer, even more fear generated in the girl's head. She was fully conscious that there was only a slim chance of bumping into someone at this part of the town and at this point of the day, for that matter.

But Ichigo was far from being a quitter.

And it never hurt to try.

So, instead of curling into herself and admitting defeat, the red head resorted to the only option she had left.

Without another word, she swiftly turned on her heel and ran, cursing herself incessantly under her breath for leaving Masha at home that morning.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

At least, her phone was still in her pocket. That was a good sign, providing her with a small speck of hope that, as long as she had managed to contact the others, there was a way out of this messy situation. There was still a way out.

Evading another blow of electric blue current that Kisshu had directed at her, Ichigo took a sharp left and dialed Ryou's cell, praying for a miracle.

Come on, pick up. Pick up! PICK. UP. PLEASE. PICK. UP!

An immense wave of relief washed over her face, once she heard a familiar snarky voice at the other end of the line, causing her to almost squeal in euphoria.

"What? Finally decided to return my calls?" the blonde barked back irritably.

"Ryou! It's Ichigo. I can't transform. Kisshu took my pendant. I'm close to the Sumida River, please send someone-"

No sooner could she finish her sentence, than an ear-shattering explosion had cut the connection short and Ichigo found herself immediately hurled into the air before her body crashed back on the ground with a loud, painful thud.

She yelped in pain at the contact of her skin with the groveled path before her attention shifted towards her right and Ichigo looked at her phone, or, better yet, what was left of it, in her hand.

FUCK.

Was the call long enough for the Mew Mews to mobilize? Or was Ichigo too succinct with her description? She could only pray that Ryou had heard her correctly. And that he would think of a way how to help her, if he had. He had always been a genius. Now, he had finally a chance to prove it to Ichigo first hand. And, hopefully, he would do it sooner rather than later.

She glanced back up just in time to dodge Kisshu's blade, throwing herself to the side and barely managing to avoid getting hit. She quickly sprang back onto her feet but her own legs had betrayed her and she stumbled back and tripped as a consequence, making it rather easy for the alien to dive down and attack her all anew.

Without missing a heartbeat, he tackled her forcefully onto the ground with him on top of her and restrained her wrists with one of his hands, while the other continued to press the sharp tip of his sai against her neck.

"Any final words?" Kisshu asked in a dark, low voice and, for the first time in Ichigo's life, his tone scared her.

Really scared her.

After everything they had been through; after everything they had done and shared, she could not recognize the look that he was presently giving her, as his hand kept on crushing her wrists, pinning her down with brutal force. The chilling sensation, which had been rattling through all her bones, was so unlike the exciting shivers Ichigo was so used to getting from him whenever he was around her, that it had forced her to reevaluate the identity of the person who was now hurting her altogether. This could not be the guy she had been intimate with within the past few weeks, could it? He simply couldn't be. Whoever it was, it was not Kisshu.

Or was it Kisshu?

Wasn't he just pretending all this time and, only now, did he make a point to reveal his real self to her at last? Because no matter how much she had tried to debunk the thought, Ichigo could not juxtapose the image of Kisshu she had previously formed in her head with the crazed, completely maniacal expression he was currently wearing, which was so vastly different from his usual sly smirks and wide grins that it had made her unanimously terrified of him. He looked far more dangerous now, far more ghastly. And the deep, dark aura that was bursting through his every pore, like a veil of impeding death, merely resulted in making Ichigo miss the old 'Kisshu' even more.

Her heart clenched at that sad realization.

"K-kisshu," she tried to hold back the tears that were garnering on her bottom lashes and, for a second, when their eyes locked, Ichigo could swear that his visage momentarily softened, as his pupils dilated back to their normal size, no longer the thin cat-like slits that only fed on the need to kill.

She felt his grip on her wrists briefly loosen, the longer they had stared at each other. But that hurt and hatred that had been burning in his gaze had never fully left his features.

"Don't give me that look, now. You wanted to fight, kitten. Not me," he hissed, while he prepared himself for the final blow.

Upon finally recognizing the hopelessness of her situation, Ichigo felt the hot tears spill over and flow down her tinted cheeks. This was really it. The person who had made her feel so great about herself so many times would be the same person who would see to her personal demise. There was too late to cry about it now. Why could she, then, not stop? Was it really so heartbreaking that she had to cry no matter what? Or was it the blur of her mind or sight that was inviting a plethora of contradicting emotions to the foreground of her consciousness, blending everything together in a disarray of strong feelings and overwhelming thoughts? Was this how someone was feeling right before they died? So pathetic and weak?

Whichever it was, Ichigo did not want him to see her look this way. Not when she was like this. It was too much. In fact, she herself did not want to see anything anymore. Not even him. So, in order to shut everything out, she instinctively closed her eyes, when the glint of his sai gleamed in her peripheral vision, readying herself for her impending end.

But before the sharp blade could slit Ichigo's throat with one precise movement of his hand, his weight was suddenly lifted off of her and Ichigo felt strangely….wet?

She peeled her eyes open in shock at the unexpected physical sensation of water on her skin, just when she saw the splurge of Lettuce's attack struck the alien again.

And, soon after, two bright silhouettes emerged directly in front of her eyes, each with their weapon at a ready.

"Mint! Lettuce!"

"Are you alright, Ichigo?" Mint called out, as she turned around and kneeled down towards the confused Mew Mew on the ground.

"Y-yes," Ichigo replied, still somewhat surprised at their presence.

"Good. Here," Mint protruded something from her pocket and, upon a closer inspection, it turned out to be Ichigo's pendant.

"My pendant!" the Iriomote cat girl exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, you can thank Ryou and Masha later," Mint retorted smugly after she straightened her posture and faced away, regarding the enemy at the opposite side of them.

"Get up now, though. We still have some trash we need to dispose of."

"Right," Ichigo nodded readily before quickly kissing the golden object in her palm and changing into her Mew form in the next instant.

"Ok, let's kick his ass," she declared with a newly-found courage, wiping the rest of her tears away from her face, "For the future of Earth, we will be of service!"

And, in spite of how much Ichigo wanted to make this her personal battle, she was immensely grateful for Lettuce's and Mint's intervention, since, as victorious as Kisshu had initially seemed to be, the tables quickly turned when it had become apparent that it was now three Mew Mews against one Cyniclon.

One Cyniclon who was losing badly.

Teeth clenched, Kisshu held his arm, as he landed back on the ground, looking daggers in Mint's direction who had managed to strike him yet again.

"Don't be shy, come for more," the blue lorikeet teased, retrieving another arrow from her arsenal nonchalantly.

Hearing this, Kisshu's face screwed into a malevolent scowl, while his lips slightly cracked only to let out an angry, snake-like hiss.

"I will, you can bet your life on it."

His fierce eyes then found Ichigo's. They briefly exchanged a heated glare before he tore his gaze away from her and his contours slowly dissolved into thin air.

Ichigo kept on eyeing the spot where he had been kneeling defiantly with anxious heart, while her mind tried to process all of the events in silent contemplation.

Did I really just break up with two guys in one day? Will Kisshu stay mad at me forever? Will he rat me out now out of spite? But why didn't he already, when he had a chance? What did his final words even mean? Is he going to come for me later when I am alone again?

The last isolated thought had made Ichigo's stomach drop a notch with cold, paralyzing fear, which was only slightly mitigated by the notion that she was, apparently, not the only one whose brain did not fully comprehend Kisshu's sudden leave, nor his threatening words of good bye.

"What is wrong with them? These fights are becoming weirder and weirder," the finless porpoise Mew commented, as she powered down into her beige sweater dress and shot her companions a distressed glance.

Mint did not reply to Lettuce, ignoring her worrisome nature entirely. However, when she came closer to Ichigo and placed her hand on the red head's shoulder, startling her friend momentarily, she softly whispered to the Iriomote cat girl that she had done the right thing.

A few days had gone by since their last battle with Kisshu, and Ichigo began to feel gradually more and more depressed with each day.

At first, she had tried to pretend that she couldn't feel the cold, niggling feeling in the pit of her belly where there had been only the warm hum of contentment merely a few weeks ago. But it had made no sense to lie to herself. And, as much as she hated to admit it out loud, she missed him. Terribly, though, whether it was her brain or her body that missed him more, she could not quite tell.

It must have been addiction, Ichigo glumly concluded.

A serious state of withdrawal which had made everything around her suck and taste poorly no matter how delicious it had formerly seemed. In all actuality, Ichigo would never believe that she, of all people, would have gotten so used to the random rendezvous with the alien that she would even crave them. Notwithstanding, in her line of work, even crazier things had happened.

That is perhaps why her heart had jumped in her throat when Masha had begun to flutter his wings with the sudden alien alert yesterday. To her great dismay, it was only Taruto, nonetheless, striving to get even with Pudding for her latest act of bravado on the battlefield. In short, nothing even slightly enticing to Ichigo's severely progressive depression. If anything, it had left her feeling void, somewhat even more adrift with the outer would around her.

The others had naturally caught upon her antics and attributed her foul mood and the sharp decline in her spirits to the shock of being directly attacked and almost killed by the alien again. Quite surprisingly, even Ryou had decided to be a bit less of a jerk to her, for a change.

But it hardly mattered.

Even if everybody was worried about her well-being, some more openly than the others, Ichigo didn't notice, nor did she particularly care.

Strange as it might have sounded, she felt as if her whole life had all of a sudden lost all of its former light; all meaning; all purpose; as though her strength and willingness to carry on and keep on living had irrevocably evaporated, turning everything around her into eternal, hollow darkness as a result. There was nothing anchoring her back, nothing to keep her holding on. In fact, she did not seem to care about anything any longer. Why should she? Everything appeared so weird; so pointless. In a way, Ichigo truly believed that she must have died, almost to the point that she had somehow started to doubt the fact that Mint and Lettuce had made it in time and actually saved her.

But did they really save her? Because, no matter how hard Ichigo had thought about it, she did not feel like she had survived the last encounter with the extraterrestrial. There was no more pulse left in her veins. And, in reality, there was nothing that would even remotely persuade her that she was still among the living. Not anymore.

She might have doomed them all, if she were to continue with that ridiculous charade. Yet, with the way how her heart presently trembled and shook, why did it, then, feel as though she had ripped herself apart?

Ichigo looked down at her wrists, which were still donning the bruises from where he had been fiercely grabbing her, remembering the distinct, feverish emotions of hurt and hatred at her rejecting him instantly.

Was this how real break up felt?

Why did she not feel that way about her break up with Masaya? Was she truly so ungrateful to her boyfriend that she did not even have the basic human decency to mourn the loss of their relationship and, instead, focused on pining for someone who did not deserve half of the attention he was getting?

Ichigo slumped further into her chair, sinking deeper into the darkest crevices of her mind, when a sudden creak of the door brought her back into the room. Looking up, she gasped when she found herself staring directly at the pair of dark, sparkling violet eyes.

"Z-zakuro," Ichigo stammered, turning stark red at the unexpected sight of her companion.

She knew that Zakuro had returned back a couple days ago. She had even vaguely remembered Mint talking excitedly about that. Yet, for some reason, Ichigo's brain had successfully decided to tune that piece of information out.

"Hi, Ichigo. Mind if I join you?" the elder Mew asked and Ichigo could not but marvel at how suave Zakuro's behavior was, as well as the vibe that she intrinsically carried around herself.

Zakuro was perfect. Unearthly pretty, exceptionally intelligent, moral and gracious. She was everything Ichigo was not, and that immediate realization had saddened the auburn-haired girl to quite some degree.

"S-sure, go ahead," Ichigo ultimately replied, averting her gaze back onto the table, her arms still hanging limply in her lap.

Zakuro nodded and sat down, crossing her legs elegantly under the table like the model she truly was.

A long, silent pause then befell upon them during which none of the Mew Mews said anything to each other. It was a comfortable silence, though, almost pleasant, and, after a long time, Ichigo finally felt like she was breathing freely again. There was something incredibly calming about Zakuro's presence. The manner wherewith she did not prod, did not judge and did not worry. It was soothing, refreshing, invigorating even, causing Ichigo to feel almost as though she could share with Zakuro anything that, with the others, she could not.

"Zakuro?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?" Ichigo whispered meekly, not daring to meet the latter's serious eyes.

"Of course," Zakuro replied offhandedly without any change in her visage, nor frequency in her tone.

There followed another drawn-out silence, as Ichigo fell completely mute once more, not really sure of how to even start.

"We don't have to speak about anything, unless you want to," the elder Mew offered.

"N-no, I do," glancing up, Ichigo met Zakuro's deep, penetrating gaze, "It's just…"

"Hard," Zakuro finished.

"Yea," Ichigo nodded, somewhat surprised at how perfectly Zakuro understood her despite the fact that she had not exactly filled her on any details of her misery just yet.

"Sharing one's thoughts is never mandatory, Ichigo. That is the beauty of one's choice. It is solely dependent only upon the will of the speaker, their distinct prerogative, if you will," Zakuro responded calmly, patiently.

And, it was that calm patience that had eventually pushed Ichigo to open her mouth and start to speak at the long last.

"I-I don't know if you have heard already…from the other girls but Masaya….Masaya and I…well…things aren't really…alright between us now."

"I caught something but I don't add to the mill of gossip, as I find not minding one's business a rather unbecoming quality in a person, would you not agree?" Zakuro retorted.

"Right," Ichigo sighed, hoping that one day she would be as cool and smooth as Zakuro, or, at least, half as cool and smooth.

Briefly, Ichigo contemplated whether Zakuro had always been this way, or if it was her age that had made her so confident and wise.

That particular notion had provided her with an idea.

"Hey, Zakuro…you are way more experienced than me….in life….love and such. Tell me," Ichigo inquired, leaning back in her chair, her eyes slightly hazy, "How can you tell if someone is 'the one'?"

"Is this a hypothetical question, or are we talking specific?" Zakuro raised a quizzical eye brow at her.

"Purely hypothetical," Ichigo deadpanned, with her gaze transfixed on the slowly rotating fan hovering above their heads.

"Ok, let me think," Zakuro answered with a far-away look on her face before closing her eyes and resuming with her thoughtful response.

"I'd say that love is a very fickle emotion, Ichigo. It is like a pack of cards, really. It can be destroyed with as little as a blow of wind, if you are not careful. But it can be also put together or started all anew, if you are willing to put enough effort in it. That's the easy part. The difficult thing is that, no matter how much you can love someone, you will never get a guarantee that the person you chose to love will love you with the same intensity back or forever. Love is incredibly selfish in that manner, but also very transparent in a way. What you can always count on is your heart. If you are next to the right person, your whole existence will feel like you are invincible, unstoppable, more alive than ever before. And that nothing is too difficult for you to overcome. I don't know if you find my answer satisfactory, but that's how I personally feel about it. For me….a good relationship is, above all else, about mutual support and positive emotions, since the life of a model is, more often than not, superficial and extremely chaotic," Zakuro concluded, meeting Ichigo's open stare.

"That was…wow. You really are amazing, Zakuro," Ichigo breathed out, still too stunned at the latter's eloquence.

"A lot of angry paparazzi might disagree with that statement, but thank you," Zakuro dipped her head, a slight smile curling at her lips.

"Then those are idiots," Ichigo relaxed her posture and let her chin rest in one of her palms, looking suddenly very at ease, "It's really nice to know that I have you as a friend, you know. It means a lot to me that you heard me out. Thanks."

"You have all of us, Ichigo."

Standing up, Zakuro gave Ichigo's hair a small pat before her features again readopted their standard seriousness, "Don't make any rush decisions, but think about what I said. Life is too short of a journey to be sad. We came from dust and will return to dust. That is the inevitable fate of every human's existence. Make the most of it, while you still can."

"Sure," Ichigo grinned happily, "Will you tell Ryou that we are done for today?"

"Actually, I came here to tell you that he wants to speak with you."

"He does?" Ichigo visibly paled, her uncertainties instantly back.

"Yes," Zakuro gave an affirmative nod, "You should go and see him now."

"Okay."

The two of the girls waved each other goodbye and, shortly after that, Zakuro's elegant figure slipped through the swinging door, whereas Ichigo's dejected form remained sitting tightly by the table, all of a sudden, very alone.

"You wanted to see me?"

The moment she had let those words out, a cold chill of déjà vu shot down Ichigo's spine when she had recollected the last time she had asked Ryou exactly the same question a few weeks ago at the exact place; the day when she had, for the first time, slept with Kisshu.

Ryou looked away from his screen, subjecting her immediately to one of his quick, scrutinizing once overs, his eyes completely unreadable.

In a way, it was really like reliving a trauma. A bad one, indeed.

"Yes, sit down, please," he answered plainly, as he made a room for her and pulled another chair directly next to him.

'It had better be a nice chit-chat this time, Ryou,' Ichigo mentally prayed, while she followed his order and assumed the designated seat, 'Only me and God knows what happened the last time you were roasting me.'

Nonetheless, the moment she dared to meet her boss's piercing blue eyes, Ichigo could instantly note that this would not be a funny ride. At least, based on the way how he had been closely studying her, his mind impenetrable and his visage stone cold.

Could he already know what she had been hiding from him all this time? Was that the real reason why he had summoned her here? To inform her that he had finally acquired the knowledge of the real nature of her abysmal misery? Or to make her sweat drop some more? Ryou was really good at that, after all; immediately throwing her into a whirlpool of panic with the speed of lightning, which was mainly why Ichigo had often begun to think of herself as of a hamster in a wheel whenever she was dealing with her annoying boss.

There was no reason why this meeting would be any different.

"How are you feeling today, Ichigo?" the blonde asked eventually, looking somewhat contemplative when she slightly flinched at the unexpected question, her heart beat speeding up once again.

Ichigo looked him dead in the eye, before she let her gaze fall back on the hem of her Café Mew Mew uniform.

What did he want her to answer? 'Even more terrible now that I see you in front of my face' would be an honest reply, but Ichigo knew that she was in no position to spite him head-on, especially since she was still not really sure where this conversation was heading. Plus, being polite never hurt; actually, being polite had saved her a couple of times from trouble.

And, the truth was that Ryou had helped her out when she needed him the most. She wouldn't be here today, if he hadn't picked up that stupid phone. They both knew as much.

"Good. Is that all you wanted to know?" Ichigo started standing up, but his voice had made her pause.

"Sit down. We have not even started," Ryou countered, leaning further in his seat.

She shot him an odd glance, but followed his instruction, plopping back down into the chair beside him, regardless. He was her boss and she was his employee. A very grateful employee. As far as the present moment was concerned, at least. And while they relapsed back into the deafening silence once more, Ichigo had let her mind wander a little.

There were many times in the past when she had really pondered what kind of a strange relationship her and Ryou had had with each other. It did not matter that they had been working together for months. Ichigo would still hardly call them close, and she definitely had no idea what he was even thinking most, if not, all of the time. There was also literally zero chance of them ever becoming friends, or even friendly coworkers, since their mismatch of personalities created a far too big of an opening to overcome, thus separating their two little worlds with deadly finality. Partially, it was somewhat baffling since it was not that they didn't share the same goal: to save Earth. Because they did; they had just never managed to meet half-way when they had actually tried to accomplish it. And, with him being up her ass all the time, Ichigo had momentarily thought whether she was the only one who had had such a huge problem of miscommunication with Ryou, or if it was the blonde's problem with the whole team in general that was making any verbal interaction with him so difficult.

Catching a glimpse of him from her peripheral, Ichigo had a feeling that that rift was only going to get wider now, though, unless she didn't start speaking up, that is.

Because, to anyone else, Ryou's current posture would indicate that he was completely at ease; with his shoulders slumped and posture relaxed, evoking the vibe that he did not give a damn in the world, he looked almost careless and nonchalant, but Ichigo knew better than that. The way his fingers continued to slowly drum against his elbow was a dead give away.

It was only a matter of time until he would start bullying her again. In fact, she was certain of it now. And, when he opened his mouth, she knew the grilling was about to begin now.

"I have a few things I want to ask you."

Here we go.

Ichigo only hoped that she would be able to keep her shit together in front of him.

Just don't cry. Please don't cry, Ichigo.

"Ok, ask away," she crossed her arms over her chest defensively, giving him a glare and masking her inner claustrophobia.

"What's wrong with you? And, this time, you'd better tell me the truth, Ichigo."

She held his inquisitive stare for a moment longer before she cast her gaze away, letting her deepest thoughts and fears consume her along with her subsequent honest words. She balled her hands in fists when she felt the first tears welling up in her eyes, and she blinked them back, secretly wishing for Ryou not to see them.

"I'm just….shocked…about everything, Ryou…It-it's a huge change…for me," Ichigo replied after a while, her glistening eyes focused on nothing in particular, her breath shallow.

"You mean the whole Mew Project, saving the world, the Cyniclon attacks, Kisshu almost killing you or some other stuff?" Ryou ticked each of the items off on his fingers.

"Everything," she let out softly, almost as in a daze, with only the painful memory of her ex-lover almost killing her deeply carved in her features.

"I d-don't know….I-I don't know if..if I-I can do it anymore," Ichigo choked out, wiping the first drops of salty water away with the back of her hand.

Ryou pursed his lips.

"Ichigo?"

"Hm?" she tried to dry her eyes completely before facing the blonde's harsh judgement, too afraid of his berating.

"I want you to take a few days off."

She whipped her head back at him in shock, her jaw going slack and her eyes popping out of her sockets.

Surely, her boss would not be giving her vacation willingly now, would he? There was no way. Not the Ryou she had known for so long.

"W-what?" she spluttered, somewhat speechless.

"I want you to lay off for a few days, Ichigo," Ryou repeated, folding his arms dismissively, "Stay put and pull yourself together. This erratic behavior of yours isn't helping anything at the present moment. Zakuro's photoshoots overseas are over, so we will have all four girls on the clock as of now. I want you to use that time and wind down. Disregard the alien attacks hence forward. If there is an emergency, I will call you directly. But otherwise you're off duty. You have the same phone number, correct?"

"Y-yes, I bought a n-new phone but the number's the same," Ichigo nodded absentmindedly, still rather flabbergasted.

"Good," he replied simply.

"Ryou."

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For saving my life the other day. I mean it," she forced out, not meeting his eyes.

"You're welcome. "

For a split of a second, Ichigo felt like telling him. Everything. What she had done; why she had been feeling so devastated and why her life did no longer make any sense. She felt it all at once. A strange mixture of hurt, despair and relief. Was this really just a temporary vacation, or was he suspending her for good? Was this Ryou's way of saying that he did not need her anymore? Or that she was not competent enough?

But the more Ichigo had really ruminated on it, the more apparent it had become that-

Was Ryou actually looking out for her?!

Ryou Shirogane?!

No shit!

She knew him well enough to know that that wasn't even a feasible option. Still, she felt grateful towards him. Even though both of them would pretend that this unprecedented act of kindness had never actually happened tomorrow, for both of their sakes, Ichigo could not help the immense rush of gratitude towards her boss that had momentarily coursed through her body.

And, almost on reflex, she lowered her head in shame for doubting him earlier.

"R-Ryou, but-"

"No buts. That's an order, Ichigo," the blonde shot back tersely, before his tone, once again, softened a bit, and he gave out a deep exhale, "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

He wordlessly swiveled around in his chair, a clear sign that their conversation was over, leaving no more space for any argument.

Jerk.

Ichigo couldn't control the angry twitch of her eye brow that had shot up automatically at his rude antics, but she said nothing, as she turned around and started for the door. A curious thought had then crossed her mind just when she had found herself standing in the doorway. With her eyes staring firmly ahead of her, Ichigo asked suddenly.

"Is it a paid vacation, Ryou?"

Without glancing away from his monitor, the blonde's reply came back just as quickly.

"Don't push your luck."

A tight smile lifted the corners of Ichigo's lips, while her face twisted with a cheeky grimace, not that Ryou could see it.

"Wouldn't dream of it."