Teach You Something Good

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Tokyo Mew Mew

Copyright: Reiko Yoshida, Mia Ikumi

It's all happening so fast.

I'm in the alien ship, srrounded by rubble, kneeling on the cold floor, facing the alien god who used to be my boyfriend. I see Kisshu – a gaunt, hollow-eyed Kisshu – teleport out of nowhere, holding one of his sais to Deep Blue's throat, and I'm so thrown by the unexpectedness of it – that he, of all people, should turn against his lord to rescue me – that I'm too slow to react to what happens next.

Deep Blue's sword flashes, folding Kisshu's body in on itself like a paper doll. He falls to the ground … rolls … comes to a stop in front of me.

My first thought is, this can't be real. It can't be that serious. He's had injuries that looked life-threatening before, and he always came back. He's like a resilient cockroach or a rainstorm when you want to go outside. He's the kind of plague that doesn't just go away.

How I wished he'd go away. But not like this … never like this.

There he is, looking – for all his gray skin, pointed ears and fangs – just like a boy, not much older than I am. The blood staining his shirt is red, just like mine. He doesn't look like the same man who forced a kiss on me in the street, who almost drowned Aoyama-kun inside a giant amoeba, who held a sword to my throat, who would have made me, his "toy", stand by and watch my people die. He looks like someone who's no longer worth hating.

"Ichigo," he whispers, the weak smile on his face a terrible echo of that grin he used to wear when he thought he had me powerless. He's the powerless one this time, and he knows it.

"I'll teach you something good … " he says, trying to lift his trembling head up to my face for a kiss. Oh God, another pick-up line, even with his dying breath. And my eyes burn with tears, but I don't meet his lips. I'm not giving in to him, not even now. I won't have the last moment of his life spoiled by a dishonest kiss – even he deserves better than that. And I want to tell him something – what? What should I tell him? That I forgive him? That I'm sorry I couldn't love him the way he wanted? But his amber eyes are fluttering closed, and his head drops down to the cold gray floor, and he's gone.

In all my battles as a Mew Mew, I've never seen someone die before. The futility of it. A scream rips out of me, like blood when an arrow is removed.

"KISSHU!"

Screaming for him to come back, to open his eyes just one more time, so I can tell him what I couldn't say before. So he can absolve me of this choking, burning guilt I feel. I hated him, and he died for me anyway.

Looking up from my kneeling position, my tear-blurred eyes find Deep Blue. There he is, still holding that bloodstained sword, watching me with the coldest look on his face. As if Kisshu – his own subordinate – were a fly he'd just swatted. And it makes me hate him even more than I hate myself.

How dare he use Aoyama-kun's hands for murder?

My Aoyama-kun was always precise with his hands, whatever he did – scoring points in kendo, combing the river for trash, tying the bell pendant around my throat. He used to touch me so gently, always making sure I would accept it. My Aoyama-kun was not perfect; he could be self-righteous, overprotective, jealous … but he would never, ever disregard what he believes is the sanctity of all life. If he is still there inside Deep Blue – please, God, let him be there – he must be so frightened and disgusted right now.

Kisshu has taught me something good, I realize. He's taught me how to be stubborn; how to fight tooth and nail for what I believe in. Right or wrong, it doesn't matter anymore.

Kisshu believed in me. I believe in Aoyama-kun. And I will save him, if it's the last thing I do.