Imperfection
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Tokyo Mew Mew
Copyright: Reiko Yoshida and Mia Ikumi
"A word with you, Aoyama, if you please."
Aoyama Masaya looked up from tying his shoelace to find Sugihara, his kendo coach, hovering over him. They were the last two people left in the locker room, and the older man's hair was spiked with shower water. It didn't make him any less imposing.
"Yes, Sensei?" said Masaya, getting up from the bench and trying not to wince. He was still sore from the practice session and bruised in several uncomfortable places. The pain reminded him that he could make a very good guess what Sugihara's frown was about.
"Can you explain to me what I saw back there, Aoyama?"
That's easy, he thought bitterly. You saw me stumbling around on the floor like a clown, missing points a first-level student could hit, and getting the daylights knocked out of me by the boys I should be leading as captain.
"No, sir."
"You have no excuse? No explanation? Are you sick, maybe, or have you been staying up late having teenage parties? I know what boys your age can get up to."
Masaya could never quite tell whether his coach was genuinely concerned for him, or just worried about him bringing down the quality of the renowned kendo team. When he'd been distracted by falling in love with Ichigo, Sugihara's reaction had been the same.
At any rate, Masaya knew the truth would not go over well. You see, Sensei, I'm really an alien dictator/god who disguised himself as a human and lost his memory. My subjects and I had been terrorizing the city up until one week ago, when Mew Ichigo – who, by the way, is my girlfriend – put a stop to it by shooting me with her Strawberry Bell. We released an alien energy source known as Mew Aqua from my body in order to repair the damage done by my alter ego. And since the Mew Aqua is gone, Sensei, so are my superhuman speed and agility. I'm sorry. It was for the greater good.
He had to force himself not to laugh. This was not what he'd pictured as the aftermath to saving the world.
"It's a private matter, sir. I'm afraid I can't tell you."
Sugihara's eyebrows drew even closer together, like two caterpillars. "Any chance of you resolving it and getting back to your old self? The team needs you, Aoyama. You've been our champion for three years in a row. You can't let us down now."
Let them down? Masaya suppressed a huff of irritation; he could just imagine how Ichigo's face would turn crimson if she were here. We saved their collective bacon and now they're complaining about being let down.
"I'll work on it," he replied instead.
"You had better," were Sugihara's final words before marching out the room.
Masaya folded up his kendo suit roughly, without minding the pleats as he usually did. He tossed it into his duffel bag, slammed the gray metal locker door shut with more than necessary force, and left the room without looking in the mirror. He wanted to avoid seeing the pimple there, a fat blackhead sprouting on his chin. He'd never had a pimple before. Was it just puberty, or another effect of losing his Mew Aqua?
"Aoyama-senpai!" sang a girlish voice from behind him in the corridor.
He waved briefly to the speaker and hurried on. Instead of getting the message, however, the little brunette fell into step beside him, looking up at him with the expression of a wounded doe.
"Remember me? It's Aya, I handed you a towel at your last match! You were awesome, Senpai. Seriously. I just know our team's gonna make it to the finals."
Since when was it so exhausting, he wondered, to keep up the mask? He would have dearly loved to ignore her, or even snap at her to leave him alone. But the force of habit was still all-powerful in him, so he smiled.
"That's good to hear, Aya-san. Thank you for your support." Why did these girls have to introduce themselves by given name only, so he'd be forced to call them by it? Ichigo had never been so crude.
"So I was wondering," the brunette continued, "If you're free this afternoon. We could do lunch somewhere? Like, a good-luck kinda thing?"
She batted her eyelashes, or tried to. There were clumps of mascara in them.
"I'm sorry, Aya-san," he said, spotting a familiar figure by the shoe lockers. "I have a previous engagement. See you later."
With a final nod, he turned his back on her and strode towards the girl standing by the window. Golden afternoon sunlight fell onto her strawberry-colored hair. She was humming a tune as she packed away her slippers.
A week ago, he coud have snuck up on her as silently as a panther. Now, she must have heard him immediately, as she whirled around and beamed.
"Hey, Masaya! How was practice?"
"Ichigo, thank goodness you're still here." It was the first genuine sentiment he'd uttered all day. "Practice was … horrible. I'm thinking of quitting the team."
"But why?" Her gray eyes opened wide with pity and confusion; she looked more upset than he did, as usual. "You're the best player they have!"
"I was."
As they left the building and stepped out into the spring afternoon, linking arms as usual, Masaya detailed to Ichigo everything that had gone wrong about the practice, including his coach's displeasure. By the time he had wound down, she was biting her lower lip and frowning in thought.
"Hmm … makes sense. Mint told me something similar was happening to her in ballet. Apparently now our animal DNA is gone, the special abilities go with them. If I hadn't quit the rhythmic gymnastics team, I'd probably be feeling it, too. As it is, remind me not to fall off of stuff anymore."
She giggled; Masaya shuddered and held her arm a little closer, remembering a time when she would have fallen to her death if the Blue Knight hadn't caught her.
The Blue Knight. Here was another problem.
"You're awfully quiet," said Ichigo, poking him gently. "Even more than usual. This thing really bothers you, doesn't it?"
He nodded.
"Hey … talk to me, Masaya," she said. "Please? Tell me what's wrong."
"Everything is wrong," he admitted, with a sigh.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm wrong … kendo is wrong … school is wrong. Look at me, Ichigo. I'm clumsy, slow, my voice cracks and I'm getting acne. I can't concentrate in class. I'm not the person you fell in love with anymore. If you were in danger … I couldn't protect you."
That was the worst of it. He could handle being mocked by his teammates and frowned on by his coach, but if Ichigo were hurt and he failed to save her …
"Do you still love me, Masaya?" she asked earnestly, coming to a stop and letting go of his arm to face him. "After all, I turned ordinary too."
It was such a non-sequitur that he could only stare for a few seconds.
"Do I – still - ? Ichigo! Of course I love you! How could I not? And why would you even ask me that, after all we've been through together?"
She beamed. "Then it's okay. Because I love you too, and I don't intend to stop. It's not the kendo team captain I fell for, you know."
"No?" he raised an ironic eyebrow at her. She blushed.
"Yeah well, it may have started out like that. You do look kinda cool in that suit. But what I'm saying is, you don't have to be superpowered or special or anything like that to keep me. I love you for your kindness … for caring so much about the Earth and its creatures … for always being there when I'm down and making me smile again. That's you, Masaya, under all the glitter. And that hasn't changed."
"Ichigo … " He had no words for the way he felt about this impossibly wonderful girl. Even 'I love you' seemed redundant. She had saved him in so many ways, saved him from emotional stagnation, saved Tokyo from his hidden dark side. She had brought him back from death with a kiss. She continued to save him every day.
Instead he reached out and touched the bell pendant at her throat, letting it chime as his finger caressed her warm skin. She shivered slightly, her eyes fluttering closed as their foreheads almost touched. The brief contact spoke more than words ever could, and he knew she understood.
Since they could hardly make a passionate scene on a public street, he stepped away and linked arms with her again.
"I'll walk you home," he said.