Chapter Text
“You want me to teach you what?”
Ichigo was seated at the other side of Quiche’s desk. His office was modern, yet predictably messy with the chaotic flair of a mad genius. Diagrams of animal and chimera biology slumped along the perimeter. Maps of Earth, Cyniclon, and far in between glimmered on the screens across the walls. Quiche sat in the middle of it looking stressed and confused. A cup of liquid that seemed suspiciously like the Cyniclon equivalent of a redeye teetered on the edge of the pages of a worn book.
Ichigo laughed nervously.
“Fighting. Like, with a weapon. And my hands. Anything, really.”
Quiche’s expression was shocked at best, highly suspicious at worst. Ichigo took to fiddling with the hem of her shorts to avoid looking at his face.
“… Why?” he finally inquired.
Ichigo looked back up. “I want to get better at combat. I guess I just realized that I don’t really know how to fight. I mean, I do. But it’s all instinctual. My body sort of moves on its own when I’m in my Mew form. I think it’d make me a better fighter to have some more formal training.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. It was true that her instincts took control when she fought as a Mew. In her civilian form, however, it almost entirely escaped her aside from an odd burst of dexterity. Quiche leaned back in his chair and studied her.
He was too good at reading her. She’d been around the alien long enough to know by now to zip her mouth shut to avoid digging herself into any deeper of a grave. His eyes flickered over her form for what felt like hours longer before he shrugged and rested his arms behind his head. She suppressed the urge to audibly sigh in relief.
“If that’s really what you want. I’ll warn you, though. I’m not an easy person to learn from,” he said. He’d believed her. At least for now.
“I have a feeling you’ll be a better instructor for me than anyone else,” she assured. Quiche snorted.
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you have a pretty face, Kitten,” he quipped while dexterously typing something into his tablet. Ichigo watched him curiously.
“I have some more business to take care of before we do that. Also…” he muttered, typing something into his tablet, “I’m putting you into my schedule. One o’clock for training, and seven for our discussion.”
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “Discussion?”
“Yes,” Quiche said flatly. “We have some more things to go over now that you’re on Cyniclon.”
Ichigo’s heart jumped into her throat. Any number of things could be discussed during that conversation, and her greatest fear was Quiche finding out about what’d happened while she was gone.
The Mew pursed her lips as their vow of no secrecy shrank far into the back of her head.
“I’ll see you later, then,” she simply replied and got up to leave the room. Quiche watched after her for a moment before turning back to the documents sprawled out in front of him.
Closing the door behind her, Ichigo kept her gaze focused on the mahogany wood before a graceless ‘oof’ sounded from her chest. She looked up in surprise at Strudel who she’d bumped into – seemingly just as surprised as her.
“Miss Ichigo! My apologies. I was not looking where I was going,” he said, black hair spilling over his shoulders as he looked her over for injuries. Ichigo laughed embarrassedly.
“No worries! I was the one who wasn’t paying attention. Have fun with Quiche,” she said. Strudel rolled his eyes.
“Working with Quiche isn’t necessarily fun, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Ichigo genuinely laughed. A summer working at the café had taught her all she’d needed to know about working with the flirty alien.
“Trust me, I know what you mean.”
As promised, Ichigo arrived at Quiche’s office just shy of one o’clock.
She wasn’t sure what to wear, considering she’d normally fought in a magical skirt and leotard for most of her life. The Mew decided that normal fighting required some type of athletic clothing of which she’d not packed much for the trip. After much deliberation, a black crop top and black spandex shorts seemed to fit the bill.
Ichigo gave a short knock on the wooden door and waited a few seconds until she heard the low drone of conversation die down in the other room. After a few more moments, Strudel opened the door with his free hand – the other holding the same tablet he seemingly carried everywhere he went.
“Ichigo! Right on time. The lord is waiting for you.”
He stepped aside to reveal Quiche scribbling a few last words onto a paper before unceremoniously shoving both the pen and sheet into his desk.
“Don’t forget, you only have until 2,” Strudel reminded. Quiche mumbled a halfhearted ‘uh-huh’ before getting up from his desk and pushing his arms up into a deep stretch.
“Sorry for stealing him,” Ichigo said. Quiche walked further toward the door to step out of the office with Strudel.
“Please, don’t apologize. I need a break from him,” Strudel joked. Quiche rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him.
“Ready?” he asked. Ichigo nodded,
Quiche gestured for the Mew to follow behind as he left the room. She trailed behind – taking note of the slight pep in his step. Being cooped up in his office seemed to take a toll on him. She was beginning to understand what he meant when he said that working at the café was much more fun than anything he does back at home.
He seemed so isolated.
It wasn’t long before Ichigo found herself staring at a large set of double doors a little further down the hallway. Quiche pushed open the doors to the training room – circular with a sunroof that cast the room in a brilliant white light. Most of the floors and walls were padded save for a few places where a few different types of weapons were mounted. Most of them looked like Quiche’s sais, just in various lengths. Ichigo wandered over to the swords.
They were all crafted with the clear care of a talented artisan. Silver twisted around itself in mesmerizing patterns and sharp edges to create weapons she knew to be as deadly as they were jaw dropping. Precious gems encased in the metalwork glinted in the light, and in her catlike excitement at the flickering light, the choices became overwhelming.
“So… do I just pick one?” she asked dumbly. Quiche laughed and pulled her by the waist closer to the center of the room. She smacked his hands away in defiance. He ignored her.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Kitten. We should focus on the basics so that I can assess where you’re at. We don’t know how much your powers affect your regular fighting ability yet.”
The alien lowered himself into a fighting stance. Ichigo gulped at the familiar sight – although this time she knew it was just for practice, the positioning of his body rang bells in the back of her mind that made her muscles tense.
“That’s it,” he cooed. Ichigo shivered. “Now, watch carefully.”
Ichigo shook the lingering feeling away and bent her knees.
Quiche dashed forward and threw a punch at her face. She ducked down, then tried to swipe his legs out from underneath him. He sidestepped deftly, twisting around, and pushing her in the chest. Ichigo stumbled with a wheeze and landed clean onto her back ungracefully.
“You have good reflexes, which I already knew. However, it’s painfully obvious that you’re untrained,” Quiche said while he kneeled at her side. Ichigo sucked her teeth at the alien and propped herself up on her elbows.
“Isn’t that why we’re here?” she groaned.
Quiche held out a hand. She took it in hers and let him pull her to her feet.
“Of course, Kitty Cat.”
He took a step back to study her form. Then, he took her arms in his and started to position them in front of her face.
“Keep your hands here. You want to defend those pretty features of yours.”
“Are you going to take this seriously?” Ichigo responded annoyedly. Quiche’s teeth poked out from his lips in a cheeky smile.
“I am taking it seriously! Bend your knees, I’m going to come at you again. Focus on preventing me from landing a hit on you.”
Furrowing her brow, Ichigo focused on his advice and allowed her knees to bend ever so slightly. The motion was familiar – one that often occurred naturally in her Mew form when she was going toe to toe with any number of beasts on the field. She tried to file the muscle memory in the back of her head as Quiche lunged toward her with the same speed.
He threw a punch at her stomach and, following his advice, she put all her mental energy into jumping away from his blow. A second strike shot upward toward her chin. It almost caught her off guard, but she slid backwards and ducked once his leg came up to attempt to strike her in the jaw once more.
Quiche let his hands rest on his hips.
“Good. You learn fast.”
He settled into a fighting stance once more.
“Again,” he said.
They continued like that for the rest of their time slot. Quiche tossing various upper cuts and roundhouse kicks at her while Ichigo jumped, slid, and ducked away. By the end of their hour together, Ichigo was panting and sweating more than she had in a long time. The Mew rested her hands on her knees and drank from a glass Strudel had been kind enough to bring halfway through their training session.
“That was great for a first time,” Quiche said, hair and clothes still perfectly in place – not a trace of sweat on his form. Ichigo mentally cursed herself for not taking exercise more seriously in high school.
“I don’t feel great,” she wheezed. “I feel like I just ran a marathon.”
“One step at a time,” Quiche said and poked her nose. She swatted back at him in retaliation. “Although I can’t help but be annoyed at myself for not taking advantage of this apparent weakness more when we were enemies. Although, it seemed like the other Mews were always quick to respond the few times I tried, anyway.”
Ichigo scoffed. “It’s not like you didn’t annoy us enough with chimera after chimera.”
Quiche gave a nostalgic smile that softened the gauntness of his cheeks. Had he always looked so tired? Ichigo wasn’t sure the last time – if ever – she’d seen him look well rested.
Since arriving on the planet, Quiche had been working nonstop. Ichigo, on the other hand, was being treated like a princess by the alien and his staff.
How was she really helping?
Ichigo’s hand instinctively rose to rub at the neck injury she’d sustained at the hands of her mysterious attacker. If anything, perhaps she’d even made the situation worse by letting out the truth. It’d been covered by the high collar of the crop top she was wearing, but during the training it must’ve trailed down her neck to expose the bandage.
Quiche, ever observant, grabbed her wrist causing Ichigo to swiftly retreat her arm in response.
“What’s that?” he murmured. Ichigo broke out into a cold sweat.
“I fell yesterday. When I was with the girls. I just got scratched a little.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, but why did she feel the need to avert her gaze? Quiche’s golden stare burned a hole into the side of her face. Ichigo held her breath and counted the imaginary minutes that passed while he examined the injury. Forcing an exhale, Ichigo turned toward the door.
“Don’t get so concerned over a little scratch when you already spent a year trying to kill me,” she said, wincing slightly at the way it came out cooler than she’d intended.
Quiche said nothing in response. Maybe he was angry – or remorseful. Either way, he just let her walk out the training room doors. Ichigo was worried about how he might have interpreted her words, but it was better than having him interrogate her over something she didn’t want him finding out. Maybe it was better to make him think she was upset about their past for now. As long as he didn’t pry.
On her way back to her room, Ichigo passed a couple of the other employees at Quiche’s manor. They bowed to her as she walked by. It made her a little uncomfortable, but maybe she needed to start getting used to her place on this planet. She was, in the eyes of most, a hero in love with the cunning new politician who’d gained the support of the masses in only six years. It gave her status.
Regardless, Ichigo spent the next couple hours of her day utterly bored to bits. The attack left her a bit too nervous to wander outside alone, but there wasn’t much to do inside of the manor. The books in the library were either in a language she didn’t understand or were far too complex, and the employees seemed too intimidated to talk to her for more than a couple seconds.
She was lonely. And Quiche was too occupied to give her the time of day, and much as he’d probably jump at the opportunity.
Ichigo considered asking if she could visit Lettuce, Mint, and Zakuro again, but felt guilty bothering the staff over something so trivial.
There was nothing to do.
Seven o’clock came quicker than expected. The sun was just beginning to set over the sparkling waters of the horizon. A knock sounded at the door and Ichigo shot straight up in the chair she’d been tossing around in. Maybe, if someone else were watching, they would’ve laughed at the juxtaposition of her excitement while Quiche’s eyes looked sunken into their sockets.
“It’s time for our conversation, Kitty Cat.”
Ichigo got on her feet and stretched. “Here? Or somewhere else?”
Quiche cracked his neck in two places and closed his eyes in thought.
“Let’s go down to the beach. I know a quiet path that we can take to avoid drawing too much attention. You’re a bit of a celebrity around here, if you haven’t noticed.”
Ichigo laughed lightly – half in earnest and half pensively. It was difficult adjusting to the amount of attention. Her life as Mew Ichigo was lived in relative anonymity on Earth; save for the Mews, Shirogane, Akasaka, and Masaya. It felt like everyone she went on Cyniclon someone was staring or stopping her to chat.
Or trying to kill me.
Ichigo shook that thought from her head and looked up at Quiche.
“Sure. The beach. What about–” she began to ask but was cut off by Strudel rushing up to the other alien in a hurry.
“My Lord, a rouge chimera has been spotted about a kilometer off the shore. Soldiers have already been deployed, but they are requesting backup.”
“Twice in one week? Convenient when Ichigo is here, I suppose,” Quiche glowered. “Sorry, but the conversation is gonna have to wait, Honey. We have a chimera to kill.”
Ichigo internally groaned at the pet name but fished her pendant from her pocket all the same.
“Listen, Quiche. Marine fights aren’t my specialty. Can we get ahold of Lettuce?”
Quiche nodded in response. “Strudel, call Pie and explain the situation. Have someone teleport her to the coordinates. We’ll meet her there.”
“Right away, My Lord,” he bowed slightly and immediately began typing into the tablet he seemed to always carry around.
Quiche stepped up to Ichigo and wrapped his arms around her and Ichigo braced herself for the weightlessness of teleportation – a feeling she was beginning to grow accustomed to. Within moments her eyes opened to the blinding sun reflecting off the aquamarine ocean waves and the warm sea breeze tousling her hair around her face as her feet touched down on the white surface of what appeared to be a navy boat.
A large splash and subsequent yelp alerted the Mew to the chaos happening off the side of the ship blocked by Quiche’s body. He sucked his teeth and let go of her to summon his sais.
“That thing is uncannily massive. The odds of a rogue parasite fusing with a squid like that…” Quiche began to say but trailed off.
Ichigo couldn’t see the emotion on his face, but she didn’t have time to inquire any further as she poked her head out from around the man and locked eyes with a gargantuan, slimy, deep-sea squid whupping its tendrils around and smacking what must’ve been Quiche’s personal marine corps into the water like ragdolls.
With the slight press of her lips to the cold metal of her pendant, Ichigo was done transforming in seconds and jumping straight into action. Flipping onto the top of the ship, the pink-haired Mew quickly surveyed the scene with the skill of a seasoned fighter.
There were a couple fishing boats cracked in half floating away in the water to her right. A second navy ship floated to her left, and the giant squid was directly in front of her; thrashing a terrified man about in one of its arms and causing the water to swirl around it.
“Quiche, watch my back! I’m going to save that man,” Ichigo spoke and allowed her Strawberry Bell to materialize into her hand. Quiche whipped his head around toward her from the deck.
“No, wait! It’s going to –”
Ichigo didn’t stop to listen as she dashed into a backflip over the kraken’s body and aimed at the arm holding the fisherman.
“Ribbon Strawberry…” she started to yell but, as she probably should’ve expected, promptly had the wind knocked out of her as the squid smacked her in the stomach with a tentacle and sent her diving face first into the salty waters.
The impact stung, and her lungs burned with the sensation of filling with sea water. She coughed and flailed her arms – trying to return to the surface of the water – but the slimy tendril snaking its way around her leg thwarted her plans with a calculated crack that sent her flying above the waves and dangling above the monster.
“ICHIGO!” Quiche’s voice screamed.
Ichigo’s head spun. She could just barely catch Quiche aiming one of his sais at the monster before she was twirled around once more and tossed into the air with a whoosh before getting smacked in the stomach with another tentacle and wheezing as it tightened around her waist.
Wow. I really wish I could go back in time and convince Shirogane to fuse me with an aquatic animal. Ichigo’s thoughts rang in her dizzied head.
The monster was seriously gripping her ribs in a way that made the Mew feel like she was going to break if she didn’t escape ASAP. Ichigo shook her head and focused her pink eyes to trail across the squid’s body to search for a weak spot, but as soon as she felt the nausea just beginning to subside, the chimera whipped itself around again and swatted at another marine attempting to land a good blow on it.
If only this thing would just stop moving!
Ichigo’s head began to swirl again. Weak from the movement and losing breath from the tentacles tightening around her chest, the Mew squeezed her eyes shut and wracked her brain for an idea. From her left, the chimera gave out a great roar and swung Ichigo up once more just when she heard a voice echo across the harbor that seemed to stop the squid in its tracks.
“Mew Mew Lettuce, Metamorphosis!”