Whiskey Lullaby, a tokyo mew mew fanfic

So I haven't written a Tokyo Mew Mew story in awhile. In fact, I haven't even tried to read it in awhile. It was just so heartbroken that Ryou didn't get Ichigo in the end. Poo.

In fact, I gave the remaining volumes of TMM that I had (1, 3, and 4) away at an anime club trade-in. I think I got the first four volumes of Shaman King too. Don't know what possessed me to get those, I just wanted the TMM gone.

But I do still enjoy Ryou/Ichigo. Hell, they're my favorite hetero couple! So I thought I'd make another tribute to them. And I wanted something tragic and emotional.

That's when the idea hit me. Why not combine my favorite hetero couple with my favorite country song. I know how country is too—you either love it or you hate it. I really like this song though, if you haven't ever listened to it. Whiskey Lullaby by Brad Paisley featuring Alison Krauss. If you really want something good, watch the music video too. It is absolutely heartwrenching.

So with that said, I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew. That honor belongs to Reiko Yoshida and Mia Ikumi. And I do not own Whiskey Lullaby, which, as stated above, is owned by Brad Paisley. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

It was true. Masaya had broken up with her. Focus on the word "had".

And for a short time, she had gotten together with Ryou. It had been a pretty quick fling—Ryou was taking her home one day after closing when the two teenagers got caught in the rain and ended up going back to the deserted café. A few words were exchanged and before either of them knew it they were both in Ryou's room taking off their clothes and climbing into bed together.

This went on for some time. Ichigo was always the nervous one in the relationship, and Ryou's personality did a one-eighty when it began. He would constantly remind her how much she meant to him and how much he loved her. She was just unsure of the things going on around her, so she would only nod in response.

Then they got back together. Masaya ended up coming to the café during the hours she worked, getting on his hands and knees and begging her to come back to him, saying it was the biggest mistake of his life to let her go like that. Ryou looked on with a smirk; Ichigo was his now, and there was no way in Hell that she would take him back.

That was before she said yes. And then everything around the blonde seemed to spiral out of control.

She put him out

Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette

She broke his heart

Every day felt like pure agony. It was fine when he was secretly loving her from afar, but after all that had happened he couldn't go back to the way things were. Being with her had changed him.

Ryou didn't know how to deal. He had never experienced pain this intense; it was the feelings of his parents dying over and over and over again times one hundred. No one really suspected that a broken heart could really kill a person, but little did they know that it would. Soon.

So he started drinking. Now of age he could just walk into any liquor store and buy as much as he wanted without getting busted. The first time he tried he nearly gagged, the liquid burning as it went down his throat, closing his eyes as he tried to calm his sense. That first time after taking one sip he couldn't take the stench or the taste, so he just laid down in his bed and cried.

He spent his whole life trying to forget

The second time was so easy. He winced again after that first sip, but this time he didn't care about the burning in his throat or the stinging in his eyes. He just wanted to forget about it all. Forget about her.

So after that first sip he had another, and another, and then poured himself a glass. One glass quickly became two, then three, and four, until the whole bottle was gone. And afterwards Ryou laid down in his bed and stared at a picture of her.

It wasn't working. But this time he didn't cry. He sighed, eyes fixated on the picture sitting atop his dresser next to the alarm clock. He stared until they finally closed and he fell asleep.

Third time is the charm. After downing a few bottles of whiskey he had totally forgotten about her for a whole five minutes. He took in his success, a breath of fresh air, until it all came crashing back down and he felt even more miserable than before. But he was out of liquor.

He cried again. For her and her stupid memory and all the pain she was causing him. For being out of whiskey and being unable to forget about her. For that insipid raven-haired boy who took her away from him. And with the drying of his last tears, he fell asleep, doomed to dream of his strawberry forever.

We watched him drink his pain away

A little at a time

But he never could get drunk enough

To get her off his mind

Until the night…

Third time wasn't the charm. The fourth was. A whole month after everything had gone wrong he bought as much alcohol as he could and locked himself in his room. And he drank. Bottle after bottle, he felt his sanity slipping. For a few short minutes after each bottle he would temporarily forget, but her smiling face would immediately break through his cloudy vision, and in order to make himself stop thinking about her again he'd drink another.

When all was gone, he felt woozy and disorientated, but she was still all that he saw. He shakily picked himself off the floor and stumbled to his bed. The springs creaked as he sat down, staring at that same picture of her he had so many times before. He reached for it with his shaky hands and gently touched her photographed face, smiling, wishing that she would still be there to smile for him now.

He picked up the picture and stretched out, and as he laid down the springs creaked even more. He was tired in all senses. Tired of remembering her. Tired of being awake. Tired of all of this.

He placed the picture back on the dresser and reached around, feeling for a paper and pencil. He didn't have many words to write for his goodbye. Upon finding the items he desired, he scrawled them onto the paper in barely legible handwriting, trying to keep his shaky hands steady so he could write her this final message. Upon finishing he closed his eyes and sighed finally content as his last minutes slipped away.

It read "I'll love her 'til I die." Ryou threw the pencil to the ground and crumpled the note in his hand. Surely they'd find it when they finally found him. He buried his face in the pillow, taking in a deep breath, the smell of her hair still there. It was very faint and hard to pick out from his own scent, but he was still able to find it. He smiled, his fist clenching the note, feeling it crumpling in his hand.

He put that bottle to his head

And pulled trigger

And finally drank away her memory

Life is short

But this time it was bigger

Than the strength he had to get up off his knees

They found him with his face down in the pillow

With a note that said "I'll love her 'til I die."

And beneath the willow tree in the park next to the café he was buried. The girls cried as they said their final goodbyes. Keiichiro read some final notes about the life Ryou had led, leading the girls in a solemn eulogy and ode to their beloved friend.

And when we buried him beneath the willow

The angels sang a whiskey lullaby

La la la la la la la

But there was one who didn't cry, but who just somberly stared at the ground where he laid. How could this have happened? She thought that once she had gotten back together with Masaya and explained everything to Ryou that it would all go back to normal.

But apparently it hadn't. And she was left feeling so confused and saddened. But above all of the feelings she had, the worst she felt was the guilt.

And everyone knew it. No one ever said anything directly to Ichigo, but it was obvious that the note he had left was talking about her.

"I heard that she cheated on him with her ex."

"I heard that got pregnant, had a miscarriage, and then broke up with him!"

"No way!"

Of course it wasn't true. Rumors would be rumors. If there was anyone who stood by her side the most it was Keiichiro, as he tried to dispel as many rumors as he could and convince her that it wasn't her fault, and that she was doing what was right for herself.

Yeah. Herself. Not Ryou. Who was dead because of what she had done. There was no getting around that fact. She was the one to blame. She was the one who had killed him.

The rumors flew

But nobody knew how much she blamed herself

For years and years

She was a few years younger than Ryou, but there was always the parent's alcohol. She snuck down into their stash and took a few bottles. They wouldn't notice a few missing, right?

The first time was the hardest. She coughed and sputtered, doing anything she could to get the foul taste of whiskey out of her mouth. She immediately buried the small stash under her bed and ran into the bathroom. Ichigo tilted her head and put her lips to the faucet in desperation, choking on the sweet liquid that flowed from it's nozzle like honey.

She threw up, her bile inching up her throat and out her mouth, washing away quickly as the sink cleared away the evidence.

Still breathing heavily, she looked up at the mirror and observed her face—the black rings that had only started to set it quite obvious against her now ghost-white face. And behind her she could have swore she saw him.

Turning around quickly to try to catch the blonde, she frowned when she saw nothing. Looking back in the mirror proved that she had just been seeing things as well.

Finally, she cried. A small tear slipping from her eyes and trailing down her cheek. She had been and still was so in love with him. That time had been so confusing and had all happened so fast. During that fling she thought that maybe she just appreciated Ryou being there because he filled the hole that Masaya had made. She never realized how much she really did love him.

The second time was easier. Downing a whole bottle in one sitting, twirling a photo of him she had pulled from one of her albums between her fingers. She giggled and hiccupped as she whispered to it.

"Ichigo…"

She looked up and could have swore she saw him, and she smiled for the first time in weeks. But then the mirage disappeared just like that day in the mirror. Instead of frowning, however, she laughed until she cried, curling up on the floor and clutching the picture to her chest as she let the sobs escape her lips.

She tried to hide the whiskey on her breath

She finally drank her pain away

A little at a time

But she never could get drunk enough

To get him off her mind

Until the night…

Third time was the charm for Ichigo. The picture clutched to her chest as she closed her eyes, lying face up on her bed as she watched the ceiling fan go round and round. She smiled at her moment of piece and how she had forgotten all of her troubles. And she hadn't even touched the stash under her bed.

Until she remembered how Ryou would twirl her round and round, swinging her left and right as they danced on the boat. Cursing her mind, she leant over her bed and grabbed the two remaining bottles. She quickly downed the first one, feeling her memories of him slipping from her.

But as soon as the last drop was gone they all came back. So she twisted the cap off of the third one, the resounding pop echoing throughout her silent room. She giggled at that too, and then took small sips. But that didn't seem to make her forget either.

She was tired too. By the time the third bottle was gone, her muscles ached and her whole body felt exhausted. It had been a good month since he had passed on. And she still felt exactly as she had that day, staring at the ground with a blank expression and a heavy heart overtaken with grief and guilt.

She let herself fall face-first in the pillow, taking in the scent of her shampoo. He had loved that smell and complimented it so many times. "Ha. Even my pillow reminds me of him."

She wrapped her arms underneath her body and hung onto the picture, pressing it as close as she could to her heart, trying to feel him. Something soft touched her shoulder as she laid in her bed. It felt just like Ryou had when he touched her.

She smiled and closed her eyes, her hands crumpling the picture of him as she fell asleep forever.

She put that bottle to her head

And pulled the trigger

And finally drank away his memory

Life is short but this time it was bigger

Than the strength she had to get up off her knees

They found her with her face down in the pillow

Clinging to his picture for dear life

And after her friends had heard of how she died and how she was holding onto his picture, they knew what to do. With permission from her parents, she was buried next to Ryou beneath the willow. While the way she had gone was tragic, it seemed like a fitting end.

We laid her next to him beneath the willow

While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

La la la la la la la

And as they all left that somber place beneath the willow tree, Pudding stopped to turn around and take one last look at her friends. What she saw was even more amazing.

There, next to the graves stood the two, directly across from the other, just staring. No words were spoken; their eyes conveyed any messages they had.

La la la la la la la

Ryou couldn't help but smile after they had gazed into each other's eyes for so long, and after seeing his own smile she did too. He offered his hand, to which she immediately took it and ran into his arms. As the embraced and the blonde twirled his strawberry around, Pudding smiled, and then turned back around to follow the others inside.

La la la la la la la

-END-

So the ending there where they meet under the willow is actually at the end of the music video. Yeah, I'm not trying to wreck this tragic ending on purpose by adding some happiness in there—God forbid I do that.

Anyway, I hope I got the lyrics right. Listening to it so often I remember what it is saying, plus I put the song on Repeat on my iTunes whilst writing thing, and it played a good ten times at least. And I sang through it once I was done.

So I hope you enjoyed. This really was a treat to write. If only I got this excited about my actual continuing stories!

Read and review, over and out! -Nibzo