Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Tokyo Mew Mew belongs to Reika Yoshida and Mia Ikumi, I think…

I Trust You

Even now, this smile is all I have, but it's fake…

She stares into the mirror, unable to even smile. She hasn't smiled at anyone all day. She can't even smile to herself. She sighs, deep and long. She knows that the hollowness won't end. Her fingers gently tap on her arm. She releases her mask. The confusion is evident. She doesn't know what happened.

"Attack!" Ichigo screamed, racing along the street. "Now! Attack now!"

She moved at once. The Chimera was fast - extraordinarily so. She struck one. It flailed. It fell.

Then it was gone.

The voices were grating and shrill. There was not the slightest leniency to their wrath.

She pushed away from the vanity. The mirror bumped the wall. Behind her the door slammed. She stormed, her footfalls echoing. Their lingering sounds were all the companionship that she had. Her hand snatched at her shirt above her heart. It hurt. It stung. She had spent too long trying to ignore it, overcome it and push it away.

The ache could she silenced, she thought; she hoped. If such a relief existed it was beyond her reach.

For the first time in years tears threatened to crowd her eyes. The abject loneliness of her childhood returned to haunt her once more. She continued walking, not caring to fight back, not caring about being seen.

She bumped into someone. Her stride faltered. She was silent: no apology given, no notice taken. She continued walking at that easy pace for a long, long time. The mild drizzle had no effect whatsoever.

By the time she re-surfaced to reality she found the elevator door opening to her right. An elderly business man strode in and the doors drifted closed. She shook her head in disbelief but the hollowness remained prevailent.

!

The bag slumped into a heap of glossy leather and shimmery straps. She stared, wide eyed, arms quivering with hands frozen stiff and numb fingers. He drew away, then. Their lips parted and a flurry of confused butterflies took flight.

He laughed, embracing her gently. "We won't have to be alone again!"

She shuddered, stammering. "What do you want...?"

He frowned and leaned back. "You haven't apologised yet, Miss Fujiwara. I went all that way to see you too!"

She stiffened. He sounded hurt. It was a game. It had to be. Everything was a joke to him.

The urge to cry was stronger than ever. This time she fought it. She wouldn't appear weak in front of an enemy. Then, however, he kissed her cheek, erasing a stray tear. She knew the act was lost.

"I'm leaving," he whispered close to her ear. "Let's start a new team. What do you say? It would be me and you. No more loneliness. We wouldn't let each other down."

She stared. She hadn't thought of him as the romantic type. He seemed to be too much of a fool for that. She had even considered him to be the 'player' type: it seemed to suit him.

She gasped quietly. She was smiling. She could feel the tug at the corners of her mouth. She didn't know the last time that she truly, wholeheartedly smiled.

They would be traitors. It was his idea. He would accept her as that. She realised then that it was what she wanted - acceptance. Perhaps she even wanted love. Acceptance, in the meanwhile, would do.

She took his hand and he summoned one of his portals.

"I trust you, even if it is stupid," she whispered too low for him to hear for fear of breaking the perfection of the moment. "I trust you even if you play me, Kisshu."

Author's Note Two: Yes, I know there isn't an Author's Note One. The original version of this story - truly horrendous though it was - did not have a note for this chapter. This was one of my first stories. I'm really happy to be doing this now. The chapters with an actual name have been edited. Please read only the chapters that I have edited.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy this. I apologise if you are disappointed.