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E.T.
"In our eyes, you are the aliens."
—Kisshu Ikisatashi, Tokyo Mew Mew Episode 38
He could not decipher this Mew Mew, this girl. This human.
Nor could he determine why he was so intrigued by her. Why she repeatedly grasped hold of his thoughts when she was the very last thing he should be thinking about. Not when he had other things to think about. Things that were of much more importance that he had to think about. Such as ways to end this war. To destroy Tokyo Mew Mew. To seize the planet that rightly belonged to him and his people.
And yet, she kept occupying his thoughts. It was like his brain had become magnetized to her. Or perhaps hypnotized. He preferred the latter. That implied that he was not at fault when she appeared in his mind. It was entirely her doing. Her fault.
Lives were at stake, after all. The lives of his people.
Her life should not have mattered, and did not matter. Or so he told himself. She would soon die like the rest of her pathetic, inferior race.
She was a devil, her and the rest of the mutants created to be an obstacle in his path towards victory.
And yet the more he observed her, the more he watched her when she was out of uniform, pretending to be just as human as the rest, he saw how a devil was the last thing she was.
No.
No.
A thousand times no.
All his life, he was told that humans were to be both feared and ridiculed. Feared for their treatment of their world—his true world, the world that would soon belong once again to his people. Feared for the violence they are quick to use on each other, their complete disregard for life. Ridiculed for their backwards ways.
They were nothing like him and his people. They were superior after all. The chosen of Deep Blue.
She could never be anything but human.
But yet, at the same time she was not.
She was not like the humans that were the monsters of the bedtime stories, the thing hiding in the shadowy corners, the creature and the curse.
No, she was kind even as those around her were cruel, and cruel to her. And she accepted the treatment like a whipped animal.
He hated that. He hated the feelings of anger that welled up deep in his chest. He hated how she was not just like the rest, and therefore easily disregarded. He hated her for making him feel sympathetic for her.
But he had never despised her as much as he did when she offered him the proverbial hand of friendship, offering a truce, peace.
They were from two different worlds. Different cultures. Different DNA.
She was his opposite in every way. She and what she represented.
She was an alien.
And yet, he still felt himself tempted by her offer.
He attacked.
He was seduced by her shy smiles, her eyes that were like that of a small animal no matter the color, human or Mew. He knew so for a fact, and knew that she knew. It was all part of her plan. She wanted to infect him with her poison. Her human ways. The evil masked in kindness.
No good could ever come out of an alliance.
And yet, he was still inexplicably attracted to her.
Fighting was different after that moment, alone in the cold ocean.
He fought, harder than ever before. Like his very life depended on it. And it did.
And she fought. She fought like he had never seen her do so before. With fists flying and high kicks. She still used her weapon, of course, and so did he. But this was different. She had never done so before in all the battles before.
Apparently, that exchange had not just impacted him.
Every touch, every blow they landed on each other, he could feel it, feel it in a way he had never before with any sparring partner before. Her hits left him feeling… strange. He was not hurt. He was not weakened. He would not even have noticed she had hit him had it not been for this oddity.
She exuded warmness, pouring it into him with every hit. Even as she put up an appearance of an hardened warrior, her eyes were as soft as ever. Her heart was just as pure and kind. Even her punches reflected this.
Like everything else about her, he could not explain it.
He did not find the answer until some years after.
His answer?
He had fallen in love with her. The alien. The human. The enemy.
But even long before he had found this answer, he could acknowledge the effect she had on his life.
He was starting to view Earth and the humans differently.
She had unintentionally shown him the other side of humanity. The side that was worth saving, worth fighting for, as she did so every day.
It was as if he had woken up on a brand new planet while wide awake. He had discovered a whole new world because of that girl.
Whether she knew it or not, she had lead his mind—and heart—into a very different direction.
Until the moment he realized he loved her, he simply acknowledged there was something different about her. Something extraordinary. Something unnatural. Something worth acknowledging.
And yet he was completely unaware of how this would affect him, his life and his decisions.
She was what made the words fall out of his mouth, what loosened his tongue to even dare to wonder, out-loud or in the privacy of his own mind,
"If we had been born in a different era…"
And as he stared into her large, soft eyes, he found that he meant it. He wished it. He wanted it.
Not just in a different era. But then. Now.
To walk alongside her. To be her friend. To see that smile day after day.
No.
No, he had a job to do.
No, he had his people to think of.
No, he could not have that life, in this era or any before or after.
No.
It was a joke.
But he was not one for jokes. And as she closed her eyes and sighed, he saw that she knew that too.
She did not believe him, not deep in her heart, even if her brain told her to.
He did not believe his own words either.
But he had begun to believe in her.
Believe that she was not offering him peace as a front to stab him in the back. Believe that she did actually want peace, did actually want to help him and his people. Believe that there was kindness in humans beyond her.
She was the first star to appear in his dark sky. She shown the brightest, though, to the point that he had missed the other stars surrounding her.
Perhaps, what he thought he believed in was not worth believing in after all.
And it was this belief in her, belief in the human race, belief in the kindness of her smile that made him risk everything.
He would give his life to protect her.
He would give it all just to protect that smile.
And, to his surprise, he would be given back everything and more.
A second chance at life. An opportunity to be reborn in the ashes of outdated beliefs and crushed perceptions.
A chance to have that smile directed at him. For those warm touches to be consistent, to spread through him like fire to the cold heart he had kept blocked off for so long. For her kind heart to be opened to someone like him, even after every cruel word he had uttered and after every vicious blow he had struck.
Their touches, after his hasty and awkwardly blurted confession that had surprised them both, were foreign. Neither knew exactly what they were to do, but the warmth was there from their flushed cheeks to their fingertips as they carefully, hesitantly took each other by the hand. Her other hand stretching up to rest on his shoulder while he cautiously put his hand on her waist before entirely encircling her with his arm.
As for the kiss that followed…
Beautiful.
Supernatural.
Cosmic.
Just like her.
A gift for the amazing alexisparade: artist, fanzine organizer, and Captain of the Good Ship Gurple.
I set out to write fluff. Then Katy Perry's E.T. popped up on my playlist and it turned into, well, this.