Jack, John or Jason, It Doesn't Matter
Dear readers,
Thank you for stopping by and reading this story. I would like to hereby thank you for all of your amazing comments, reviews, follows and kudos! Words cannot describe how incredibly nice it feels to see that people are really enjoying this fic!
Now, in terms of the plot, this upcoming chapter is going to portray a defining moment for this arc. As many of you have already pointed out, Ichigo's mental health is slowly deteriorating, depicting the side effects of her toxic relationship with Kisshu to the T. Her life has officially become a real emotional roller coaster ride, there is no disputing that. And, as any other toxic relationship, hers is starting to take its mental toll on her mind in similar fashion. She is not crazy, not yet, at least. But is she getting there? Only time will tell. I personally find it quite remarkable how much a toxic relationship can actually influence and twist one's own way of thinking. So sit tight and prepare yourself for some serious drama, because this update is intended to bring out a LOT of feelings in you. Until next time!
The music I used for this part is Mareux's 'The Perfect Girl.'
Lucero Perez - Thank you for your comment! I am so happy to hear that you liked the last update so much. We are in for a lot more and things are only going to get more and more tense now. So stay tuned!
Lulyy Elizabeth Vaca - Thank you for your comment! I am so happy that you enjoyed the talk between Zakuro and Ichigo. Zakuro is so level-headed and wise. So I could not think of a better person with whom Ichigo could have such a conversation.
AnimeRoxx - Thank you for your comment! Yeah, Kisshu has definitely gone into all psycho mode in the last chapter, hasn't he? Well, a romantic rejection can be an extremely painful blow to one's inflated ego, mind you!
DrDark7 - Thank you for your comment! We are surely going to dive into even more problems and obstacles! In fact, there's plenty of them ahead of us. And it's only about the choices that the respective characters are going to make that will determine the course of the action.
Lilith - Thank you for your comment! I am excited to hear that you liked the previous update so much. Fingers crossed that you are going to enjoy the following one as well.
Kishlover985 - Thank you for your comment! I am so happy that you are enjoying this story so much. And, yes. I totally agree. Regular updates are a blast!
As always, please enjoy and review!
I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew
It had all started with one extremely simple question.
"Why don't you just sleep with someone else?"
Substitution.
The idea was brilliant, really. And rather uncomplicated, now that Ichigo had time to truly think about that.
For days, she had relentlessly troubled her mind with delusional scenarios and intricate predictions, when, in all actuality, all she had to do was to step back and understand that the solution to her pressing situation was displayed in front of her all along; she was just too blind to see it. But that was alright. Beauty was in simplicity, after all. And the deeper the red head had allowed herself the benefit of the doubt, the clearer everything had suddenly seemed to her.
In a way, Ichigo felt completely stupid for not reaching such an obvious conclusion herself. Yet, luckily for her, Ichigo had the two best friends in the world who had showed no qualms about giving her a piece of their mind, nor to objectively assess her mental distress without too much emotional drama or flat-out criticism.
The only reason why Ichigo had become addicted to having sex with Kisshu was the fact that she did not know any better. In other words, it was not a question of any strong romantic feelings, but rather a matter of sexual curiosity that had spurred her to keep going. Masaya might have been sweet and all; however, when it came to sex, his experience was seriously lacking, which was exactly why Ichigo had indulged herself in the sinful desire with the obnoxious alien for so many times. Yet, that was soon about to change. Now that Ichigo had finally discovered where the origins of her malady stemmed from, she knew precisely what steps she had to take to successfully negate her deep-seated longing and regain her sanity. She had to substitute. For everything that she had been so vehemently missing. Find a replacement that would sate her yearning and make her forget all the painful memories. That way, she would kill two birds with one stone; and the best part about it was that if she had actually found someone who could fuck her even better than Kisshu, there would be no need for that stupid alien in her life ever again.
In a nutshell, it was a perfect solution to all of her problems, through and through. And Ichigo could only thank her stars that she had been blessed with having such amazing people like Moe and Miwa as her friends. The only thing that had slightly puzzled Ichigo was the issue of morality that both Moe, as well as Miwa, were so clearly dismissing. Quite frankly, Ichigo was shocked at how supportive both of the girls were of her actions, making her once again think of her conversation with Mint and Zakuro.
'I wonder how everyone at the Café would react if I told them?' Ichigo inwardly mused, as her brain tried to picture what it would be like to address her sexual debacles with Masaya with the Mew Mews.
Perhaps, Pudding would get it, which was somewhat ironic, considering her age. But, aside from the Monkey Mew Mew, Ichigo had hard time imagining anyone else processing this peculiar item of news without either a completely panic-stricken expression on their face, or a scrunched up nose in disgust. Furthermore, Ryou had made it pretty clear to her that he was no interested in hearing any of her love drama and, somehow, Ichigo did not think that Keiichiro would take the bullet and listen to her excessive whining either. Without any raised eye brows or chiding looks sent her way, at least.
"So, you like really don't judge me, guys?" Ichigo asked, although she knew what Moe's answer was going to be even long before the blonde girl parted her plump red-tinted lips.
"We are your friends, Ichigo. Of course not," she grinned at the red head broadly, as she adjusted the straps of her pink corset dress, "Besides, it was about time for you to get out and live a little. Masaya's not the only guy out there, you know. Don't worry! Me and Miwa will help you find what you've been missing before you know it," she winked at Ichigo conspiratorially before turning back to the bathroom mirror and assessing her appearance one last time.
"Couldn't agree more," Miwa smiled, when she finished applying mascara on her long, thick lashes, "Sex should be a lot of fun, not a painful task to perform so that you make the other party happy."
"Right," Ichigo smiled back, nodding politely.
'Would they feel the same if they knew that I have already cheated on Masaya a couple of times and with an alien from another planet at that?' the Mew Mew momentarily pondered but, in the end, decided to say nothing.
There was no reason to scare her friends with unnecessary facts any further. She had done enough of damage, she would have thought. And the notion that both Moe and Miwa had not rebuked her for her potential infidelity and even seconded her choice to pursue random hot sex, had made Ichigo's belief not to share anything more with them even stronger. Plus, she had told them enough. For obvious reasons, Ichigo had omitted the parts that involved supernatural elements and extraterrestrial powers, of course. But, on the overall, it had been the first time ever that she had talked with someone honestly about how she had sincerely felt about her sex life with Masaya. And, probably, it was specifically that brutal honesty that had made Moe stood up after Ichigo had finished speaking and openly declare that they were all going to the club the next day, or rather the next night - a Friday night- which, per se, should resolve Ichigo's situation fairly quickly.
And quick, it surely was. The sole one thing that was expected of Ichigo was, apparently, to put on a tight body con dress that had left very little to anyone's imagination and she was half way in for the victory. That was, at least, what Moe had told her. And Moe was far more immersed in the whole bar-hopping scene that Ichigo simply had no other choice but to trust her friend's gut, no matter how skimpy the red satin dress that Moe was parading in front of her had seemed. The moment Ichigo's eyes had rested on the blazing red material, she instantly knew that she would never walk next to Masaya dressed in anything as remotely revealing as this. But right now, it didn't matter. She was getting laid and went to a club. She could not give two fucks. And the sluttier she appeared, the more guys would ogle her. Moe was right. Ichigo was not searching for a long-term relationship or any meaningful connection tonight. No. She wanted to get dicked down so that her wet dreams about Kisshu would come to a grounding halt and stop bothering her sub-consciousness once and for all. And if wearing something so tacky was supposed to help her do the job and reclaim the ownership of her life, then so fucking be it.
As bizarre as it had initially seemed, with time, Ichigo's former feeling of depression had soon transformed into a peculiar amalgamation of two very opposing emotions: deep uncertainty entrenched in unabated anger. After days of being down and crying like a little bitch all night through, Ichigo had decided that she had had enough of living the life of a shell of ghost existence. For the first time in months, she had been given a few days off work from her boss without a fight. And although she still had to attend school, she would be damned if she did not put this rare opportunity of leisure time to a good use. She was free. As a bird. To do anything she wanted, which unambiguously meant that if she was to really enjoy herself to the fullest, she had to relinquish her grip on the grim past and, instead, look ahead to the bright future.
This rapid change of thinking had not come overnight, of course.
Ichigo could still visibly recall the evening from two days ago, when she had spent almost the entire night sitting on a bench in a park, alone and on the verge of breaking down in tears, trying to mentally will the alien to come to her. A wish that had not only proved fruitless and desperate, but also somewhat ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as the constant questioning of herself and her actions that Ichigo had so willingly subjected her trajectory of thought to.
Why did he not come? Was it because of what she had said? She hadn't seen him for days. Was he okay? And why were there no real alien attacks, minus the one that Taruto had tried to pull off? Could something happen to him? And why did she care so much about where he was and what he was doing? She should be happy that, for a change, he was following her wishes and left her alone. Finally. Wasn't this what she had been wanting all along? Wasn't this what she had been telling him over and over again, and to which he had never paid any heed? What had suddenly made him listen? That one punch?! Oh please! She had battered him far more than that in the past.
But why wasn't he attacking her, then? Wasn't the reason why he was stuck here on Earth to create Chimera Animas and eradicate all human life? Did they sack him? Serves him right if they did. One huge, big sack for the incompetent idiot he truly was.
Ichigo locked her jaw, staring numbly at the girl that was caught in the reflection of her bathroom looking glass.
She could stay home and cry her eyes out, dressed in her PJs.
Or she could dress up in a sexy, provocative manner and get her brains fucked out.
Sensing the gradual depression that slowly began spreading through her veins like a virus the longer Ichigo had kept wavering, she snatched the red skimpy dress from Moe's hands swiftly, putting it on with no further hesitation.
'No more sadness. Besides, a little party never killed nobody,' Ichigo concluded wryly.
But even if she was dressed the part, adjusting her mind to the idea of being sexually intimate with a complete stranger, as well as actually finding exactly what she had been looking for, was a completely separate issue; a notion which was merely confirmed to the Mew Mew upon their imminent arrival at the dance club.
The place was swamped with bodies, sea of human flesh that was sweaty and hot, and Ichigo found such an atmosphere somewhat suffocating to that extent that she immediately wanted to turn on her heel and leave. Yet, the moment the mental picture of Kisshu's gleaming eyes flashed in her mind, her treacherous trait of thinking had made her movement stop instantly. She had gone this far, even talked Moe and Miwa into going with her. She could not chicken out now.
There was no way!
She had spent way too many days pondering all the complexities of her regrettable situation, coming up with literally no solution by herself, no matter how hard she had wrecked her brains out. Now she had a chance to finally turn the tables! And, with a tall glass of vodka in her right hand and her best friends by her side, Ichigo felt as though she would make it. That she would reach a moment of solace at long last. Or a semblance of it, at least. They said that alcohol could cloud one's judgement enough to neutralize any sort of pain. And, truthfully, Ichigo was desperately waiting for the liquid happiness to kick in so that she could forget that she had ever dealt with the stupid alien pest and continue with her life as if he had never existed.
But, drunk or not, Ichigo was rational enough to know that it would not be that simple. Forgetting Kisshu was not an easy task; it required a lot of mental willpower, as well as solid emotional resistance, which is why Ichigo had even first contemplated the option to restore her relationship with Masaya just to get the Cyniclon ultimately out of her head. Nonetheless, upon learning that her no-longer boyfriend had already gone on his conference to Okinawa to save pandas, or something similarly environmentally-friendly oriented, Ichigo could only sigh in exasperation in a rather unsurprised fashion.
Of course, when I need him the most, he must be elsewhere. Of course.
Oh, the painful ironies of her life.
Had she, perhaps, really chosen the worst timing ever for calling it quits with Kisshu?
But, again, it was not like Masaya's physical presence in her life would change much about her rapid decline of mental health. Alcohol, on the other hand, had a far better chance to get her through the day than her ex-boyfriend's poor sexual libido ever could; not to mention the immediate effect of vodka that had translated into a temporary ego boost, which was helping Ichigo quite a bit, steering her in the direction of what she had come here for tonight.
"You know what would make this whole thing even better?" Moe wrapped her small hand around Ichigo's wrist and dragged her through the crowds, directly to the dance floor, with Miwa following closely behind.
The blonde girl pushed through people and made sure that they stood in the center, enabling all the flickering eyes on them.
"What?" Ichigo retorted, balancing her drink in between her fingers carefully, while she let her body move with the alcohol assisting her raging hormones.
They were now swaying into the rhythm of the music, slipping in and away out of reality, as the heavy beat pulsed through them, controlling their every movement.
Moe's face lit up with an impish glee before her eyes flashed with a libidinous longing.
"If Ryou was here with us."
Ichigo jumped, disconnecting from the binding music instantly.
Frankly, she had never fully gotten to the bottom of her friend's thing for her boss. Because, to Ichigo, Ryou was asexual, insufferable and a total arrogant prick in every sense of that word. That was, probably, why she had found it so extremely difficult to comprehend Moe's drooling at the living sight of the blonde.
"You're only saying that cause you don't really know him," Ichigo sighed, failing to understand Moe's infatuation with Ryou once more, "If you did, you would know that he is a monster," she replied with a tinge of bitterness coloring her tone.
"No way. If anything, he is the prince charming," Moe giggled as her arms kept on floating beside her in accordance to the catchy pop song.
"Right," Ichigo said sarcastically, eyeing her friend thoughtfully.
'Some people simply cannot be helped,' Ichigo let out a deep exhale, until another, far more disarming thought had crossed her mind, 'Though Ryou is not exactly ugly. Should I have asked him for sex instead?'
However, the moment this notion fully clicked in her brain, the red head had almost choked.
The truth was that the idea of fucking Ryou was simply weird to Ichigo. She knew he was very attractive, at least by most human standards, so from merely biologically point of view, it could work. Nonetheless, his obnoxious personality along with the fact that she knew him long enough to know how exactly he operated was an immediate turn-off for the Mew Mew. And for good, she might add.
"It's such a shame you didn't invite him to come with us too, you know," Moe sighed in dejection, as she drained her glass, intending to get drunk as a skunk tonight.
"Yes, because having my snarky boss next to me is exactly what I need the most when I want to get laid with some random guy, right?" Ichigo muttered under her breath, knocking most of her remaining drink down.
"But he is so dreamy, Ichigo! And so intelligent too! You should have heard him! He spoke so highly of you all, guys," Moe continued to drool, making Ichigo's breath hitch in slight alarm.
"Ryou? As in the Ryou Shirogane? Blonde hair, blue eyes, annoying permanent scowl-"
"Yes," Moe responded, slightly pouting, before her face began to beam with her undying admiration for the blonde scientist all anew, "You should really reevaluate your opinion of him. Because Ryou is not only gorgeous but has a great character as well! Could you imagine? Good looks, brains and a good heart? What are the odds of such a combo? I can only wonder how good he is at other things too."
"Mmm, I can only imagine," Ichigo drawled in sarcasm, but Moe ignored her completely.
"And he is also so caring! When we talked, we were actually mostly talking about you. He seemed pretty concerned when he asked me how you were doing in school lately, which I found really cute, if you ask-"
"W-what!?"
This time, Ichigo ended up splattering herself with her drink and coughing loudly.
To be honest, she still felt somewhat in awe at Ryou's initiative the other day. If it wasn't for him and the Mews, she was sure that Kisshu would have hurt her. There was no way that he wouldn't, not with that maniacal look he had had on his face. Regardless, even if her boss had displayed a rare glimpse of kindness, that had not changed all the other times when he had treated her worse than poorly. Just that single isolated thought itself had made her skin crawl.
"One good deed cannot buy him off," Ichigo begrudgingly thought to herself before her friend's words had turned her blood suddenly very cold.
"Yea, he totally wanted to know how your sorry ass is doing outside of work, so I told him that you are your usual silly self," Moe shot her a mischievous grin, "Though more distracted lately, which also reflects on your grades quite badly, but nothing too serious that a few extra sessions with Masaya could not make up for. I assured him that you will make it to the next year somehow, I think," she snickered, whereas Ichigo immediately went stiff at her response.
"Hey, Moe. Please don't tell Ryou anything else about me, if you ever see him again. Ok? He's a total jerk and he will only use this information as a leverage against me. Plus, he already knows enough as it is. Please, Moe, I mean it," Ichigo pleaded, hoping that her tone relayed enough of her deep despair that her friend would get it at last.
Or, maybe not.
"Not even about your soon-to-be-steamy sex life?" Moe smirked coyly.
"Yeah, especially that, Moe!" Ichigo answered without missing a beat.
She could only imagine Ryou's mocking reaction if he had known what they were up to at the present moment. The image of her boss pestering her, which had instantaneously conjured up in her mind, felt a little too tangible for Ichigo's comfort.
"You're just trying to hog off your sexy boss all to yourself, aren't-"
"Hey, girls, hottie alert," Miwa interrupted their argument in an instant.
Ichigo directed her attention to her left where Miwa's manicured index finger was pointing towards and she internally grimaced.
"No way. Gross."
"Each to their own," Miwa laughed, taking another sip of her cocktail, as the girls continued in their merry spirits.
It took some more time, some more alcohol, some mild conversation, and a bit of dancing and a lots of laughter, but as the night progressed, Ichigo had eventually found herself wrapped in the hands of one hot dark-haired guy. His jet-black hair had reminded her profusely of Masaya and, on second thought, that was, perhaps, why she had chosen him so willingly in the very first place. She wanted some familiarity, if she was going through with this. Some reassurance if you will, in the field she knew so little of. Familiarity was, after all, great. It brought comfort and confidence to those who had decided to push their limits beyond their customary spectrum and explore a brand new world of the unknown. Familiarity was key, in other words. All the more, when it had fully dawned upon Ichigo that she was about to spread her legs for this guy later that night, enabling him to take from her whatever he wanted.
But the longer Ichigo had studied his features, the more differences she could pinpoint, causing her to immediately erode any of her former thoughts about her ex-boyfriend with as much as one single bat of her eye lash. As opposed to Masaya, this guy's face was far too mature, far more angular. And, upon a closer inspection, she could also discern that he was wearing an earring in one of his ears, while a silver chain with a small cross was hanging loosely around his neck. There was something intrinsically bad about him. Something that had immediately classified him as a delinquent in any of Ichigo's books. But that was ok. She was not looking for a long-term boyfriend tonight. Quite the opposite, actually. And even if she was not particularly into tattoos or piercings, it had hardly stopped her in her current endeavors.
This was not about her personal preferences. This was about saving Earth. And the guy in front of her was cute enough. No, scratch that! The guy in front of her was hot enough to do it. So she would be damned, if she had let herself be bothered by such menial trifles as a few extra pieces of jewelry and let this opportunity slip in between her fingers.
Nevertheless, one thing that Ichigo could scarcely miss was the distinct notion that the dark-haired tattooed hottie had the alien's wild streak and arrogance. His big green eyes reflected the same palpable lust and need for sex. In fact, the longer their semi-verbal, semi physical interaction continued, the more Ichigo grew sure of it. And a part of her inwardly cringed at this disturbing realization that she might really never get over Kisshu, if she had voluntarily chosen a rebound that was behaving a lot like him. But, maybe, it was the other way around? What if it was the similarity in their personalities that had eventually made her muscles relax and give in to the temptation that he had been offering her? Yes, that was it. It must have been. Since the temptation that she had been feeling only increased when his hands started to roam down her front and his lips parted with hot breaths and seductive whispers of all the things he would do to her once they were totally alone.
'Great, this one should do,' Ichigo cheered inwardly, with her hopes high up, as her mind began to get hazy with the promising images and overwhelming glitch of sensations that continued to ripple through her body.
And the heavier their make out in one of the bathroom stalls had gotten, the more Ichigo had imagined that it would be good, really good. And possibly even better than with Kisshu. Because if she could find someone who was better, there was no need for that stupid alien in her life anymore, and she could turn back to fighting him and hating him, just as she had done until some couple weeks ago. This vivid fantasy resonated through every single of her cells with such a palpable intensity that it had spurred Ichigo to shortly transfer the slowly unraveling prospect of sex with the guy from the bar right into his car. She wanted it quick. And easy, so that she would immediately know that there were other guys besides Masaya and, well him, that could give it to her.
But, apart from a couple of heated kisses, Ichigo had soon discovered that although her brain gradually started to be open to the idea of fucking the hot guy, there was no real connection between her and the temporary object of her longing. It was pleasant, of course. Very. However, except for the short chemical reaction she had experienced whenever their eyes locked, the scorching hot maddening passion she had been so ardently hoping for was nowhere close to be found.
Maybe it was just the fact that they were not familiar enough with each other's bodies? Or the notion that he did not go down on her? Again, would a complete stranger go down on her under normal circumstances and considering all the sexually transmitted diseases?
STOP!
What the hell was that? She was here for hard, hot sex. Not sexual diseases, thank you! Plus it was not like she wouldn't use a condom. Wait, should she use a condom? Technically speaking, she was still on the pill. That did not allow her to have unprotected sex now, though, did it? She had no idea who this mysterious guy even was. What was his name, again? Was it Jason, or John? Jack? Oh my god!
"J-Jack," Ichigo stuttered.
"Jason," he replied huskily as he tore himself away from her chest, "It's Jason."
"R-right," she breathed out, when she reclined her head further against the headrest of her seat, enjoying the manner with which his tongue dove back down in between her breasts.
This was good, this felt good. She might have as well succeeded and found for herself a decent replacement. It was going to be great; that was all Ichigo had to think about.
Besides, even if his fingers did not produce the desired effect she was praying for, she knew that that could change with time.
Wait a second, did that mean that she wanted to do it with him again?
Well, if he was good, perhaps? Like why not, right? If this was what the Earth's safety depended on, then she would simply grin and bear and do it for the sake of the mission with no questions asked. The others would be proud of her. Ryou would be proud of her. And, that way, Ichigo would not have to feel so guilty whenever she had to look him straight in the eye.
On second thought, maybe she really should have asked Ryou for sex instead. Force herself to do it and get it over with rather than engaging herself in dangerous scenarios with random dudes in bars. Would something change if she got drunk? But what would she do once she was sober again? Wouldn't that make things between her and her boss even more awkward? No, there must have been somebody else who could have ensured the safety of the planet Earth, like this guy, for instance. The world simply did not revolve only about Kisshu or Ryou.
Stop thinking about them already. God, you're impossible!
'That's right!'
Ryou or Kisshu, who cares! Now she was with Jack to make her feel good.
Jason!
'Right!'
And good, it felt! True, he did not have Kisshu's skill, but his experience had surpassed Masaya's by far. And he was extremely attractive and also very confident in what he wanted, which, by itself, had instantly posed a stark contrast to her bland, dull sex with her former boyfriend.
Ichigo was just about to start relaxing and getting into the good part when she suddenly heard the handsome guy from above her growl and, soon afterwards, he collapsed on top of her, heaving rapidly.
Ichigo stared at him in mute shock, utterly dumfounded, the alcohol only barely helping her fuzzy nerves.
"I-is that it?" she asked aloud before she could stop herself, unable to accept the fact that her planned steamy sex session was cut short so quickly.
He shot her a confused look before his features consequently darkened and turned into a deep scowl.
"What do you mean? I fucked you for good five minutes! It's not my problem, if you're too slow to come."
His snarky reply had immediately made Ichigo's blood boil.
First, she was heavily reminded of Masaya and his awful treatment of sex and all these fake orgasms she had grown so tired of faking. And then, of him as well. And how he had never ever in the entirety of their encounters complained about anything and never made her feel bad or guilty about herself for taking her sweet ass time.
Where Masaya, as well as this guy in front of her, would complain after a couple of minutes, Kisshu would never stop, not until he would get her to her release. Even if it took forever.
She felt her fists subconsciously clench.
God, she hated him! She hated everything about him. And, most of all, she hated the fact that she could not hate having sex with him at all!
The malevolent cackle that had reverberated in her ears had caused her pulse to jump in rage and before she could stop it, a reel of heady images of all the things they had done consequently filled her senses, forcing Ichigo to gasp at her complete inability to unsee it.
Even if she had closed her eyes, she could not unsee it. That was the lingering effect of him; no matter how much she had wished for it to disappear.
Digging her nails deeper into her palms, Ichigo shifted her attention back onto Jason who had returned her baleful stare. She could instantly feel all the pent-up frustration that she had accumulated in her body threatening to spill over, should he decide to push her a bit more and throw her off balance.
And with the way how his green eyes continued to glower at her defiantly, it was only a matter of a few additional seconds until Ichigo would open her mouth and explode all out.
An assumption, which had proved not exactly incorrect.
"And what did you want me to do? Fake it? Just to make you feel more of a man? As if!"
She sensed how the air in the car immediately soured after her harsh words had left her mouth, making it more than apparent that their ideas of good sex significantly varied.
Still, Ichigo could not give a damn. She knew that her honesty was never very much appreciated to begin with. She had learned it the hard way. Was Kisshu just some kind of a weirdo, then, or was it an alien thing that he could take in her brittle comments in stride and even turn most of them against her? Why did he, no matter what she had said to him, never get offended when it was so easy to hurt any other male's ego? Aside from their last encounter, obviously. But that was a completely different scenario.
Jason looked down at her impassively, his expression clearly informing Ichigo that he and Kisshu might not have that many character traits in common, after all.
"God, you're a cunt!"
She felt her anger well up at his comment and she bared her slightly sharpened teeth.
"And you're a jerk, Jack!"
"Jason!" he screamed back.
Fuming, Ichigo ground her teeth. She was losing time. This had evidently been a bad idea that had completely backfired on her. And, if anything, it had left her feeling even more empty and hollow on the inside than ever before.
"Jack, John or Jason, it doesn't matter! Don't you get it?! You talk big, but when it comes to real deal, you don't deliver. No matter what you claim, you're not good enough. Period," she yelled at the top of her lungs, far more frustrated with herself than him, her voice dripping with sheer disappointment.
Tearing her gaze away, Ichigo briefly contemplated when she had become such a colossal bitch, and if it had somehow coincided with the time she had started sleeping with Kisshu.
She chanced a look back at the guy in front of her and grimaced slightly at the way how her criticism had twisted his visage. No one's ego could take such a fatal blow, Ichigo did not blame him. But she did not feel like dealing with his personal inadequacies either. She had had enough of these of her own. So, instead of an apology, she slammed the door of his car open and, without another word, stepped out angrily.
She heard him screaming something at her while she was smoothing her dress, but she did not care. She could always walk back home on her own. Plus, it was not like she could not use some good alone time. And, on the off chance, that someone would be brave enough to approach her and try to ambush her when she was in such a state of unabashed fury, Ichigo would be more than happy to kick some serious ass and get all her disappointment and frustrations out of her system in the process.
Far more than happy, actually.
The night air felt cool and crisp against the Mew Mew's angry eyes, cooling her mental well-being bit by bit, the longer she had continued with her walk.
She knew that she should not have put such high hopes in some random dude at a bar, the more she had really thought about it. Since when had bar-hopping ever worked for her, anyway? Besides, wasn't her behavior a little over the top? There were ways how she could express her disappointment more politely. Why did she, then, not do it? That poor guy would be probably completely bewildered by this whole experience, bashing her in front of all of his friends the next day, and for all the valid reasons. To a normal civilian, the stunt Ichigo had pulled would look like nothing but a round of quick sex with some crazy weird-ass chick who was just too sexually frustrated and with possible anger issues as well. But, maybe, he would forget about it as quickly as it had started. Because, at the end of the day, to him, it would not mean much. Yet, to Ichigo, it felt like the world around her had crumbled down with the greatest fiasco of her life. She had put a lot of effort into tonight. An effort that had not come back to her and, furthermore, which had made her feel irrevocably like even more of a total failure. And when the sky above her head all of a sudden darkened and a bright flash of light passed in front of her eyes, she viewed the heavy downpour that had subsequently enveloped her whole form as nothing but another clear indicator of her personal demise.
The rain was her punishment; her karma.
She could feel herself getting drenched to the bone, as the thunder above her began to gather momentum and made her dress wet and her hair sticking to her face. But that was fine. The outward storm merely mirrored the inner one in Ichigo's mind, connecting the two seemingly opposing concepts inadvertently in one in her line of thoughts.
Ichigo's head turned skyward, letting the rain drops hit her face directly.
She wanted to scream, hoping that the nasty weather would drain out all her internal pain, disappointment as well as her sorrow. Whatever ideas and outcomes she had envisioned for tonight had dissipated, leaving nothing but a sense of dull emptiness behind.
Would it change if she tried again?
Doubtful.
In fact, Ichigo knew that history had a funny way of repeating itself, making the Mew Mew momentarily ponder whether she was subconsciously only picking guys who were sexually incompatible with her, or whether it was her unlucky hand that was dealing her merely the wrong partners to begin with. Except for one, of course. Yet, that was a train of thinking million times too complex for Ichigo to contemplate now. And, still. She could not help it. Regardless of how much she had strived to block her thoughts about Kisshu from her brain, she simply couldn't. She could not stop thinking about it. About him. About everything. Nothing in this world was helping to cure her of her malady. Friends, food, work, school, pills, alcohol, random sex, no matter what she had tried, Ichigo's mind had always found a way how to revert back to the evil alien and the vivid picture of his gold, gleaming eyes that had pursued her everywhere she went like a looming, ghastly shadow.
Even now, standing at the porch of her house, Ichigo visibly shuddered, as the mental image of Kisshu once more flashed in her memory and she knew, then and there, that if she was to encounter the alien again, there was literally nothing stopping her from letting him fuck her senseless.
And, for that to happen, she fortunately did not have to wait much longer.
When Ichigo climbed up the stairs and opened the door to her dimly-lit bedroom, her breath hitched in her throat, once her eyes landed on the unexpected figure that was leisurely sprawled on her bed swamped in the murky darkness, causing her to involuntarily jump in a plenty of shock.
Everything went oddly quiet in her head and, for several tense seconds, Ichigo just stared in consternation at the disturbing sight ahead of her, with her pulse racing and scared half to death. In a way, his sudden presence in her room would have felt almost reassuring, supposing she was not so mad and anxious about their close proximity and its undeniable effect it would have on both of their lives. Almost. Yet, when she spotted the dark violet splotch which was still perfectly visible on his face, it had made her swallow thickly at the prospect that he was here only to even the score. For, outwardly, the alien looked the picture of calm, and something about that eerie composure did not settle well with Ichigo's psyche. Calm Kisshu never meant anything good. Actually, calm Kisshu meant nothing but trouble.
And with only the silver moonlight streaming feebly inside through between the cracks of the window shutters, the Cyniclon's intentions rendered as obscured to her as his eyes.
In reality, Ichigo was terrified.
Both of him and of herself; because she was aware now that regardless of how much they had argued or fought, there was no way that she would say no to him. Not now and possibly not ever. Not with the intense way how he had always looked at her, as if she was the only thing in that moment that mattered. She could only pray that her body would stop betraying her, but she knew that that wish was going to remain unanswered, one way or another, the second his shimmering gaze found hers and the mounting feeling of dread and burning whirlpool of feelings in the pit of her stomach only intensified.
Yet, she could at least try to pretend; that there was nothing happening between them; that it was not true; and that this would be just another quickie that would leave them both breathless and yearning for more, but in the overall picture meant absolutely nothing. It was too hard to verbally articulate it in simple words, let alone logically explain the phenomenon to anyone who would be willing to listen. But regardless of the consequences, regardless of the many implications that her bond with Kisshu could trigger, Ichigo could not help but be subconsciously drawn to him, knowing fully well that she could never really refuse him anything.
No matter what an outrageous proposal he might come up with.
Ichigo let out a dejected sigh, as she reached behind her back and, with some difficulty, unclasped the top button on her back with her fingers, the remaining effect of the alcohol evidently still affecting her system.
"What do you want? I'm in no mood for your games! Get out!" she called out, hinting with her annoyed tone that his presence in her bedroom was less than welcomed, once she started unzipping her drenched dress.
In a retrospect, Ichigo might have thought twice about whether removing her clothes with the alien still lying on her bed was exactly a good idea. But, on second thought, she could not care less, if she was undressing in front him or not. It did not matter. Not anymore. She knew he would undress her either way; that was what he had come here for, after all.
Kisshu merely watched her, with a blank expression that gave nothing away. And, for a long silent moment, Ichigo wondered if she should keep her pendant close to her and this was really going to be a visit based on vengeance and ill intentions above all else.
That was, at least, until his low, cold voice wafted to her ears, startling her momentarily.
"Did you sleep with him?"
His question caught her slightly off guard before she remembered that this should not have baffled her so much, since he had been already stalking her before. There was literally zero reason why he would not do it again.
Creep!
"What's it to you? What I do and don't do in my personal life is none of your business! I don't care about yours, so beat it already!" she glared at him from the corner of her eye, recalling their last conversation, her anger coming back in spades. And, even more so, when the notion that he might have seen her having sex again with someone else who, for the lack of better term, sucked fully registered in her mind.
He looked good and hard at her and Ichigo saw the jealous rage briefly arise in the alien's gaze, as she tried to fight the twinge of fear that sprang up within her at the sound of him abruptly standing up and flowing closer to her. His voice took on a slightly venomous quality, when he cupped her chin in between his fingers and tilted it upwards roughly.
"Answer me, kitten," he said in slow, measured words, "Did you sleep with him?"
There was no humor in his tone and Ichigo audibly gulped, noting with apprehension how more uneasiness crept up her spine, creating goosebumps on her lower back, the longer Kisshu bore his intense, mesmerizing orbs into hers.
The way how he was staring at her had frightened the living hell out of her.
Yes, that was, at least, the first reaction she had acquired before it had subsequently morphed into that weirdly familiar mixture of excitement and longing she had not felt for what had seemed like eternity. A pregnant silence then descended heavily upon them, as more forbidden images rose unbidden to Ichigo's mind, making her inner muscles yowl. Her tongue seemed tied, her breathing constraint, but she felt like he would extract every single breath out of her, if she did not start speaking and answered him honestly.
"Hm, yea. But it was…eh well not so-"
His eyes narrowed dangerously at her, plunging her nerves instantly into a deeper state of anxiety. Yet, it wasn't until he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him, that her body began to quiver and she winced at the sheer authority in his voice.
"Don't do it again. Sleep only with me. No one else."
"W-wait, what? WHY?!" he tore her dress open in response before she could stop him, and grinned at her wolfishly.
"Because I can fuck you better," Kisshu paused, giving her chest an appraising look, until his dark, glimmering eyes darted back to meet her consternated face, the conniving glint in his gaze burning bright and alive, "And you're mine."
Without warning, his pale arms encircled her waist, as he leaned in and his lips smothered hers in one fluid motion. Still in a plenty of shock, Ichigo at first struggled against his grip, not wanting to let him ensnarl her once more. However, the moment his tongue entered her mouth, something in her must have snapped and her loud moans subsequently filled the small room, while her hands started to clutch at his shoulders with crushing desperation that Jack, John, nor Jason could not provide and that she had been so vehemently missing for so long.
And although she still deemed the second part of his bold proclamation somewhat problematic, with the first half, Ichigo could not argue. All the more, when she had found herself utterly lost, kissing him back fiercely, melting into him all over again, giving in to the temptation that was trembling harshly through all of her cells, while she continued ripping his clothes off of him with bone-crushing desperation and urgency until they both fell naked on her bed, yearning for more, needing more. That more that had not been in their life for more than eleven days now and that screamed loud and clear that they had both reached their point of withdrawal and needed it more than anything else in their lives.
There was no real rational explanation for how he had made her feel, as her world gradually shrank to the few hot breaths and indulgent moans; she just knew she could not stop; and that she wanted him. All of him. Inside her. Immediately. More and more. Sucking, biting, pressing, and all the rest of the things only he could do to her that nobody else could. Perhaps, it had something to do with her rather strong propensity to throw herself into the clutches of extreme danger without too much thinking, but Ichigo was completely unable to stomp down the burning feeling of desire in her chest which was quickly flooding every corner of her mind. Her breath was catching in her throat, the desperation welling up inside her, and with her moral barometer compromised beyond any point of repair, she had soon lost every last scrap of her inhibitions, along with any doubts, concerns, regrets and admonishments, sending them straight down into the gutter with no serious afterthought.
It was only carnal pleasure moving her forward; one of those unstoppable forces in life.
Her neck craned, when she felt him push inside her. And, in a flash, a string of raw, throaty sounds were torn from both of their mouths once he began moving in her aggressively, pumping into her in frenzy and drawing out loud cries and gasps for more. More than she had ever been brave enough to ask for; and more than she had ever craved.
Somewhere at the back of her mind, Ichigo was fully conscious that her parents were home, but it did not prevent her from looping her arms around his neck and screaming shamelessly at the pure pleasure he had been inflicting in her, while their hot, sweating bodies moved in perfectly synchronous manner. She was lying below him, gripping at his nape with almost bruising force, as she bucked her hips, meeting his every hard thrust with equal need, never pausing, never stopping, not until they had finished what they had started. It was maddening, fervent and crazy and she enjoyed every single second of it. Her body vibrated with all the tension that was immediately dispersed with his touch and that waited patiently, building all the heat from within her, until it eventually exploded and sent her muscles in a spasm of feverish pleasure once she came, writhing in ecstasy as the final surge of her climax seared through her.
With her eyes squeezed shut, Ichigo let her head fall back on the pillow, her breathing ragged, never letting go of his hair.
How long did it last? Why was she so short of breath and sweaty? Why did every neuron in her body pulse with the feeling of euphoria that had kept tingling through every pore on her skin, while her eyes suddenly watered? Ichigo did not know.
All she knew was that there was no way out now; no matter what other guy would come her way, he could never, in no way, compare to Kisshu.
She was trapped.