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turnupswritessometimes · 2 years

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Summary:

"I have two tickets to the aquarium," Aoyama said, as though it was normal. "But Momomiya-san is busy that Sunday—" "I'm so sorry!" Of course, the girls were having a spa day, at the weekend. A girly day with, hopefully, no aliens. "But I wondered if you would like to come with me." *** Ryou agrees to visit the aquarium with Ichigo's pretty, perfect boyfriend. The worst part is, he doesn't even have a bad time.

The boy was here again.

Ryou wouldn't mind, but it wasn't like he ever brought anything. Or even came in the front door. He hung about, outside, checking his watch, and glancing in at the cafe. Not even with an irritated expression. His big, doe eyes just look worried. Worried why Ichigo was still at work, when they had a date.

He could at least be angry about it.

He could at least come in, and not act as though he would be infected by frills and lace if he did.

Keiichiro told him to, "Relax. He's not hurting anyone out there." Then added, under his breath, "His face might pull in more customers."

Ryou rolled his eyes. Keiichiro had never acquired the skill parents had, of knowing when Ryou did, behind his back, so he got away with it.

So, Ryou put up with it. For a week.

Then he had to go out himself. Without a plan. Once he'd stepped outside, and leant against the wall next to the boy, he realised that he hadn't thought about what he was going to say. Not start a fight – intimidate him? Just let him know that Ryou knew he was out here, and was angry about it? He stared out, over the path, as though he'd meant to stand out here, all along.

The boy looked at him. Then away. "Is - is Momomiya-san on her way out?"

"In a bit," Ryou replied. He crossed his arms.

Another pause. Another glance to him, and away. He was too polite to stare normally, and that was annoying too.

"You also work at the cafe, don't you?" His voice was soft.

Ryou smirked. He couldn't help it. "I own the cafe."

"Oh." A blink, with those doe eyes. He had long, dark lashes to set them off. "Sorry, I thought you must be in high school."

The smirk widened, and maybe he was being mean, but he couldn't help it. "No. But, I'm fifteen."

A slight, puzzled frown. He liked puzzled. Pitying was what he couldn't stand. He stared back, and waited for more questions.

"You must be very busy," Was the reply. Not a question.

Ryou scowled. He didn't like this boy.

It was that moment that Ichigo chose to burst out the cafe doors in a whirl of cherry red and a cry of, "Aoyama-kun!"

They went on their date, and Ryou went back inside.

Of course, Aoyama was back soon. If not for a date, then to walk Ichigo home, because he was that kind of oh-so-gallant boyfriend. The perfect kind of boyfriend.

Ryou didn't know why he went back out, again, and again leant against the door. Perhaps to show that he didn't care. That he was close to Ichigo too.

She was their bio-weapon, after all.

The boy - Aoyama – was his name – stared at him again. Ryou ignored him, but out of the corner of his eye, could see him biting his lip.

"You don't go to our school."

"No." He flicked his head, to get the hair out of his eyes. To catch a glimpse of the boy's disproving frown.

"You dropped out." He said it like he knew for a fact, his hands on his hips like a disproving parent.

Ryou scowled once more. "I did not."

"Sorry. Were you were expelled, then?"

"I graduated." Ryou stepped forward. Another step, just to see the boy actually frown, like a normal person. "Early."

He didn’t frown, just stared back, as though trying to make sense of it. "Very early."

"You don't believe me?"

Those big, brown eyes looked at him. No, studied him. They stared at him like he was between two panes of glass under a microscope. Lingering on his eyes, as if they held the answer, until his gaze fell. His hands fell to his sides.

"Well, you don't look the part."

That was true, he supposed. The bleached hair and the blue eyes made him stand out, and he hardly dressed like a teenage genius. Keiichiro said he dressed like a punk.

Fine, then. He looked a punk, and Aoyama looked the part of the perfect boyfriend. A pretty, polite boy. He didn't get the chance to snap that like an insult - Ichigo came swirling out of the cafe in a rush of bags and school uniform.

"Aoyama-kun! I'm sorry to make you wait!" Her cheeks were as red as her hair. "And for Shirogane's company."

He couldn't help it. He reached up and tugged one of her ribbons loose. It trailed like a comet tail behind her. "You know you love me."

“Whatever.” Ichigo batted him away, frowning - Aoyama was too, because he was a white knight, ready to defend her.

Ryou kept talking before he could, "Haven't I graduated high school?"

Ichigo tugged the ribbon completely free from her hair, and set about tying it again. Her pink mouth worked, as though she was weighing up her options.

"That's right."

Ryou couldn't help it; he smirked, triumphantly, at Aoyama. Who still didn't look impressed, just raised his eyebrows, and smiled politely. It wasn't the reaction Ryou wanted.

When he complained to Keiichiro about it, he simply got, "Well, you were hardly nice, were you?"

Ryou sat on the stool at the kitchen island. It was still smeared with buttercream, flour and cocoa power. Still, he crossed his arms and rested him chin there, whilst Keiichiro loaded the dishwasher with all the dinky plates and cups.

"He's not nice to me." And he knew he sounded like a child.

Keiichiro actually laughed. "How is he not nice to you?"

It was in his stares. His glances. The fake smile. The politeness. But nothing out-rightly, which meant he had no real answer. He huffed, and his hair blew up.

Keiichiro paused. He leant down, close to Ryou's ear, to murmur, "Try smiling, next time."

"Shut up."

"Well, don't say that, either."

As if he was the one going on the date. The thought twisted his stomach. Ryou actually groaned, and buried his head in his arms. He heard Keiichiro chuckle. Wondered if he was going to ruffle his hair, like he used to when he was very small. He hadn't in a long time, and he didn't now. Ryou missed that, but he would never say so.

He listened to the sound of the dishwasher door close. The beep, then rush of water as it begun to fill.

"Why does it bother you so much?" Keiichiro asked.

"He doesn't buy anything."

"We're well in the green."

Ryou just grunted. There was more to it than that, but he would not - could not - admit it. Not to Keiichiro. It was something Ryou knew about, and determinedly ignoring, because he would not go there. Couldn’t go there.

So he sloped off to his room, and didn't say anymore.

Of course, the boy came back. Aoyama. He leant on the wall, outside, fiddling with his phone and glancing inside, anxiously. Ryou pretended he didn't see, but his hands started to shake. His heart thumped too, in his fingers, and he bit his cheek, busying himself in the kitchen.

Ichigo stuck her head back in, even after she left. She was frowning.

"Aoyama-kun wants to talk to you."

Keiirchiro raised his eyebrows. Ryou didn't look at him. He shrugged, and followed Ichigo back out to the front of the cafe.

Aoyama had that polite smile back on.

Ryou didn't return it.

"I have two tickets to the aquarium," Aoyama said, as though it was normal. "But Momomiya-san is busy that Sunday—"

"I'm so sorry!"

Of course, the girls were having a spa day, at the weekend. A girly day with, hopefully, no aliens.

"But I wondered if you would like to come with me."

Something twitched in him, like a worm. He folded his arms. "Why me?"

"I told him that you were interested in animals too," Ichigo said, with a bright smile, but there was something in her eyes. A panic. Either at him going, or at Aoyama going with someone else. Of course, there had to be a dozen girls eager to go out with him. It was safest if he went with someone who couldn't stand him.

Someone like Ryou.

"I might be busy that day," he said.

"No, you're not," Ichigo snapped. "You barely leave the cafe."

Which was true. Still, Ryou felt his cheeks burn crimson. It was embarrassing to admit, especially in front of Ichigo's oh-so-popular boyfriend, that he didn't have friends. That he didn't leave the cafe on Sunday. She'd already seen his bare room, she didn't need to know anything else.

"You can double-check." Of course Aoyama was still polite about it. "I'll be at the aquarium at ten, if you can make it."

"Yeah. I'll see."

Ryou dug his nails into his arms. Hard. Until he felt the sting. He didn't look at either of them, as though he couldn't care less.

And tried to ignore the thrill he felt that he had plans on a Sunday.

Ryou didn't have to show up. On Sunday, he could just not meet Aoyama at the aquarium. That never seemed like an option, though. He didn't like him, but he wanted to go. To the aquarium. It had been a long time since he'd been, with anyone.

Keiichiro used to take him. Soon after they moved back to Japan. Would insist on taking him out of the lab for a bit, and holding his hand when crossing the road. He remembered the deep-sea exhibit, with the 'scary' fish in small tanks at the top, and being lifted up to see the eels. Remembered saying, "Wow!" very loudly, because they were very cool.

That had been with Keiichiro. Or had it been before? Why couldn't he remember if it was with his father?

Ryou noticed Keiichiro's smile, as he clattered down the stairs as he was leaving. He scowled, "What?"

"Just - it's nice to see that you have a friend," Keiichiro turned back to his book. "Who you didn't genetically alter."

"Very funny." He ran a hand through his hair. It had taken way too much thought to get dressed. He'd decided to look as high school drop-out as possible; clunky boots, black, tight jeans, sleeveless shirt, the choker that he used to wear when he was twelve. But it covered the mark. He'd gone as far as a smudge of eyeliner under his bottom lashes.

"Ryou." Keiichiro's voice was soft enough that Ryou turned back. "Have a good day, alright?"

It was hard to stay sulky, when he was being smiled at so softly.

"Sure."

He second guessed the outfit, when he headed into town. It felt like there were people staring at him; like they were raising their eyebrows; like there were murmured comments.

And of course, Aoyama was - normal. Normal hoodie, normal jacket, normal trainers that were all neat and tidy. His hair was soft and shining, like an ink spill.

Ryou didn't look like he should be here. Stuck out too much.

Aoyama smiled, when he spotted him, those doe-brown eyes soft. He waved, and actually called, "Shirogane-kun!"

It was like he shone a spotlight on him. He tried not to wince, to look embarrassed at all, as he joined him. As if he was unbothered.

"Hey."

"I'm glad you could make it."

"Are you?" Ryou had been told to smile, but he couldn't. They stepped out the way of the main entrance to the aquarium. Near a bench, designed to look like it was carved from coral.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I thought you didn't like me."

The polite look fell, then, for a moment. Before the mask was replaced. "It's nice to go around the aquarium together."

Even someone dressed like Ryou, he supposed.

"Besides—" Aoyama bit his lip, like it was something he shouldn't say. "It's nice to be out with someone who won't disappear. Not like—"

Ichigo. Maybe Ryou should feel guilty for that – he'd turned her into a weapon and given her a secret life – and he was, but only a little. It wasn't even about the greater good, or any of that. Maybe he was broken.

"Should we go in?" Aoyama was back to polite smiles.

Ryou didn’t dare attempt one. "Sure."

It was cool inside, air-conditioned, the walls painted with different shades of blue to look like waves. There were banners with close-ups of the turtles, or sharks. The lobby was mostly full of children, with some junior high girls in huddles. No boys their age, unless they were with girlfriends. They joined the queue of people with tickets. Waited. And something sat between them. The same thing that always sat between them, and got worse since the not-mention of Ichigo.

“Look,” Ryou said. “There’s nothing – we’re just friends – barely, even.”

Aoyama raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I thought she would complain about me – all the time.”

“She doesn’t talk about work very often.” The eyebrows went back down. “Perhaps that’s why.”

Because she hated Ryou. She had to, because of what he did. He could accept that; expected it. Still, saying it dissolved some of that something. He wished he could explain more, but that was getting into aliens and secrets.

They got their tickets scanned through and their hands stamped with a black fish. Ryou's was askew. Then they were inside.

There was always a strange hush within aquariums. Voices echoed in the space, but seemed swallowed up in the dim lights. They didn't play ocean sound effects, but Ryou swore he could hear waves none the less.

The first few tanks were giant, stretching a whole wall, the lights streaming through and creating patterns over the walls. They were full of what most kids called 'boring fish.' Carp and trout in the dozens, swimming with gaping mouths and staring eyes. Most of the people they'd come in with walked straight past.

Ryou lingered; these fish were just as important. Aoyama noticed – of course he did. He stepped up to the glass too, watching too. The water cast patterns over his tanned skin; his eyes seeming darker than ever. He looked strangely ethereal, like a fae from a bedtime story. It wasn't hard to see what Ichigo liked about him, at least on the outside.

She hadn’t mentioned much else.

Ryou focused on the fish again, stomach clenching. That line of thought shouldn't even be started.

They stepped slowly past – oddly in synch. Stared at the other tanks together and only sometimes needed to murmur that awkward, "Should we move on?" It was – okay. Not terrible. Maybe even nice.

Ryou didn't want to use that word. He could just imagine the smirk on Keiichiro's face if he came back and said he had a 'nice time.'

They had to wait to see the octopus. There was a gaggle of girls in front of them, who squealed and clutched each other, as though it was terrifying.

Aoyama bumped into Ryou as he stopped. A tiny bump of their arms, but he was very aware of the touch. Aware how pathetic it was to be so aware of the touch.

The girls hurried away when the octopus swam a midge too close to the glass, clutching at each other.

"How can you be scared of something so harmless?" Ryou muttered, as they stepped to the glass. The octopus was making its way past the front, arms feeling out the rocky display.

"Lots of people are scared of spiders, and they're harmless." Aoyama half-smiled. "At least, the ones in Japan."

"Eight must be a scary number." Ryou's fingers hovered over the glass.

"Although-" Aoyama paused, then continued in a rush. "Although, octopi don't have legs, they have—"

"Arms." And one of those arms pressed against the glass, showing the underside of those suckers. “Tentacles have just one sucker at the end."

"Yes." It was as enthusiastic as he had ever heard Aoyama. He was smiling – not that polite smile, but a real smile – at Ryou. "You do like animals."

"I'm more than just a pretty face."

And Aoyama actually laughed. He ducked his chin when he did, as though he was trying to hide it, turning back to the tank. The octopus watched them, with one dark eye. The shape of it made it seem like it was squinting suspiciously.

"Let me guess." Aoyama rocked on the balls of his feet; more relaxed than before. "Your favourite cephalopod is the vampire squid."

"Firstly, anything with bioluminescence is very cool—"

Aoyama made a face. A slight one, just a purse of his lips, but he might as well have rolled his eyes.

Ryou narrowed his own eyes. "What?"

"Just – that's such a boy thing to say."

“I am a boy.”

Aoyama bit his lip. "Sorry, go on."

They were drifting away from the octopus tank, and on, into the doorway for the deep-sea exhibit. The girls were shrieking again, running through quickly.

"But my favourite cephalopod is the chambered nautilus," he said.

"I see." Aoyama turned away, but not before Ryou saw him smile. "That's sweet."

"I'm not sweet."

"You don't look it." They stepped into the deep-sea exhibit, and Aoyama became little more than a shadow. Just a gleam of his eyes, like they’d caught a star. "But I think that's just an act."

They stood in front of a tank full of spider crab. Their long, thin legs waved back and forth. Ryou stared at them, arms folded, nails digging in. Perhaps there was something of an act, but it didn’t hide anything soft. It hid how truly empty he was.

"What about you?" Ryou asked, with a final dig of his nails. "What cephalopod betrays your act?"

Aoyama was quiet. "The mimic octopus."

Ryou couldn't help it; he snorted. Tried to cover his laugh with a cough but he knew he was being stared at, and knew the question those pretty eyes were asking.

"Just – that's very on the nose. Very angsty. That should have been my answer."

"They have incredible camouflage abilities."

"I know." Ryou paused. "And do you?"

"I didn't mean—" Aoyama stepped past him. Past the crabs, which seemed to drift, and follow him. He stayed facing the eel tanks. "It's not camouflage. I pretend. To be what people expect."

Polite and perfect. That was his act, and he played it well.

Ryou didn't move. "Does that make you happy?"

"It makes them happy."

The family behind them stepped into the deep-sea exhibit. Ryou continued, up to the eel tanks with Aoyama. Had he really been small enough to need picking up to see them? They weren’t even that high.

Maybe Ryou was a little soft, after all, because he felt the need to say something – anything.

"I can do a motivational speech about being yourself and being happy," he said. "If you like."

Aoyama hid his smile behind his hand. "Please don't."

“Only if you stop being polite.” Their shoulders knocked, as Ryou stepped past. It sent a warm tingle through him; made his breath catch.

Aoyama followed. “Are you going to teach me how to be rude?”

They were out of the deep-sea exhibit, back in the blue-yellow lights of the rest of the aquarium. It created a halo on Aoyama’s dark hair, turning his skin to bronze. Ryou found himself grinning, ready to keep teasing – then he realised what he was doing. Who he was with.

What was he doing?

Being honest. Have Someone be honest to him.

Groups ran past them, on to the coral reef section; the section full of fish like the kind in cartoon movies. The whole section was full of excited children, all tapping on the glass and screaming.

Aoyama saw too. He winced, and got the closest to scowling that Ryou had ever seen. So he hated kids doing that as well, because it annoyed the fish – and he cared about the fish.

Ryou’s heart was racing, and he hated that. Hated him. Hated this. Didn’t think about taking Aoyama’s elbow and stepping over to the bench in the corner. This one was plain wood.

Ryou sat. There wasn’t really room for both of them, but Aoyama did too. They were pressed together, in the alcove, and he was very aware of that. Very aware of his hand, on Aoyama’s arm, and dropped it, as though it was hot.

“I have to know,” Ryou said. “Why you asked me here.”

Aoyama didn’t flinch. “Ichigo was busy.”

“And you must have friends – lots of other friends who could have come.” The rest was on Ryou’s tongue – the accusation that he was being pitied – that he didn’t want or need friends.

“I don’t.” Aoyama looked down, his lashes casting spidery shadows on his cheeks. Pretty. “I don’t, actually. At least, not anyone who would actually want to. The boys from kendo aren’t interested in marine life, and I couldn’t take a girl.”

Not even as a friend? That seemed awkward, to Ryou, to not be able to talk to a whole gender without jealousy appearing. Maybe he just didn’t understand relationships.

Aoyama had taken Ryou because he liked marine life, too. That was all.

But it wasn’t. He didn’t have those kind of friends; he was a mimic octopus. It didn’t fill Ryou with relief, it seemed to suggest something worse.

“Perhaps – we could be friends.” Aoyama was so close, Ryou could feel his breath on his cheeks. He turned away, sharply. No. Not friends. He wouldn’t be able to cope.

“Perhaps.” He stood, ready to continue on, and finish this.

Aoyama stayed sitting. “I see. You’re still in your shell.”

“What?”

“A chambered nautilus has a shell. You’re in one.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” That came out as a snap. Close – this was still close.

“No, I don’t.” Aoyama stood. They were the same height, Ryou realised. Eye to eye. “But I think I’d like to.”

His cheeks prickled. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. He could only mutter a, “Perhaps,” before turning and heading for the coral reef. That wasn’t right. People didn’t want to be friends with him. They weren’t interested in him, and definitely didn’t call him a chambered nautilus.

But then, Keiichiro would say, Ryou had never made the effort. Never really spoke to anyone his own age, anyway. Only the mew mews. He pushed everyone away, not the other way around. Now here was a boy who said he might want to be his friend. A boy who was interested in animals, like him. Who was different, when he dropped the polite demeanour; he had a sense of humour and something more, under the surface.

Did Ichigo know about that? About the mimic octopus?

He tried to ignore it and ignore the boy next to him. He stared at the bright displays, full of the ‘interesting’ fish. They were bright, flitting in between bright coral and through displays of sunken treasure.

Ryou stopped in front of the round windows of the seahorse display. Stared at the tiny fins fluttering on their backs as they made their way from seagrass stem to seagrass stem. Fins the size of his fingernail, tails curled like a finger to keep them in place.

Aoyama stayed next to him. “Seahorses have bladders, so they can rise – it makes them very interesting.” He stopped, then, as though he’d said something rude. “But of course, you knew that.”

“They’re terrible swimmers.” Ryou didn’t tear his gaze away. It seemed to be watching him, with its black bead of an eye. He took a breath that hurt his chest. Aoyama had been honest, so could he. “When I first heard seahorses have to hold on to something or they’ll get caught in the current, I cried.”

Aoyama was watching him; he could see those dark eyes in the corner of his vision. He regretted saying it, immediately. It was too personal, too soft and tender. He expected a comment about his shell.

That didn’t happen.

Aoyama’s hand grazed his.

It sent a spark of electric, all the way through him. Like being shocked by lightning. Made his breath catch. For a moment, he thought Aoyama was going to slip their fingers together; he almost did; before he pulled away.

“I like seahorses too,” Aoyama whispered.

They stared for a while, watching them, before slowly moving on. Through the underwater tunnel, with small sharks swimming over them. It encouraged more squealing from girls. Aoyama caught Ryou’s eye, and smiled.

He found himself smirking back. Didn’t really want to, but couldn’t help it. Maybe enjoyed the company. Wouldn’t go so far to say he enjoyed it, but – it wasn’t as terrible as he thought it would be. They fell back into mostly silence, but it was a companionable silence. A silence broken by exchanging fish facts; exchanging opinions on favourites.

It wasn't awful.

Which made it awful. Because Ryou should not be friends with Ichigo's boyfriend. He could live with her hating that – it would be perfect to annoy her with – but he wouldn't be able to cope. Not having this pretty, polite boy trying to be friends with him; who'd admitted to something as private as being a mimic octopus.

Not after Ryou telling him something as silly and embarrassing as the seahorse story. He'd said it as an olive branch – in exchange for the mimic octopus – but it was silly and soft.

The giftshop was an aquarium of soft toys in itself, populated by pens, rubbers and keychains too.

"Are you going to get something for Ichigo?" Ryou asked.

Aoyama looked distant, for a moment, before he nodded. "I suppose so."

Supposed that was the perfect boyfriend thing to do. Ryou hung back, telling himself he could buy himself anything he wanted here, but it didn't settle the lamp in his stomach. It wasn't the same as someone buying something for him.

He didn't name the feeling, but he knew the colour of it was green.

It mingled with a much stranger feeling, when Aoyama selected a small, stuffed seahorse for Ichigo. It was blue, not pink. She would have preferred pink.

They stopped, at the exit. Stepped to one side to allow the flow of people through, and glanced at each other. That was the end of the visit.

"This was fun, and we should do it again," Aoyama said, because that was what should be said, after an outing like this. Back to polite. Back to camouflage.

"Yeah." Ryou would not smile back. He bit his cheek to stop the urge to. "Perhaps."

"I mean it," Aoyama pressed. His hand twitched, and Ryou clenched his fist, for protection. "I've never met anyone who has a favourite cephalopod."

"Well then, yeah," Ryou repeated. "We'll see."

Aoyama's smile was not the usual, polite one. It was friendly – private. His dark eyes crinkled, a deep bronze, and his teeth very white.

They said goodbye, in that rather awkward and abrupt way that left them walking in separate directions.

Ryou's fist was still clenched. He clenched it tighter, until his nails stung his palm. His heart was not racing, but it was pounding.

That smile stuck in his mind, like a barnacle.

#tokyo mew mew #ryou shirogane #masaya aoyama #turnupswrites #tmm #fanfic #fanfiction #tmm fanfic #tokyo mew mew fanfiction

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sugoiigrove · 10 months

Text

Wolfs Instinct: ZakuMint one shot

Written by SugoiGrove (me)

The hustle and bustle of cafe mew mew was growing steadily everyday. Things were busier than usual and that went double for chimera anima attacks.

To broken glass and Retasu’s muttering apologies, to Purins dinner and entertainment. The place didn’t change.

Giving a side glance, the strawberry haired waitress had a displeased look on her face. One she always wore but it was more intense. As Ichigo held a full tray in her hands, she tried not to let her sour attitude spoil the sweetness of the parfait on her tray. Staring at Mint while customers were trying to flag her down, Ichigo huffed.

The high class lady sat at her table with a calm exterior. Drawing out her porcelain tea cup, she lifted the cup to her mouth with her pinky to hover just below. Sighing with an amount of satisfaction, she let the warm sensation of the tea refresh her.

“Mint!” Ichigo hissed as she barged up to the table. As Ichigo hounded Mint for slacking especially during such a busy day, the lavender haired waitress walked out from the kitchen with a full tray in hand.

As her eyes skimmed the floor, she spotted Ichigo nagging Mint like the usual. Zakuro’s performance in the cafe wasn’t spectacular but she worked hard. With a stoic look on her face, she walked up to a table with an order. The customers silenced their conversation as Zakuro’s uncomfortable glares made their stomach churn.

Muttering a nervous greeting, Zakuro placed the dessert on the table and walked away. Overhearing some unusual chatter from another table, she stopped to peer at a table with two males dressed in school uniforms.

Spying on them from afar, they had an odd smile about them. As they threw glances occasionally in a certain direction, Zakuro glanced at their curiosity. Staring across the room, Ichigo badgering Mint about her tea time was what caught the two males attention.

Staring at their body language, it was clear to her that they were curious about the navy blue haired girl. Staring back and forth between Mint and the school boys, Zakuro felt a strange feeling overcome her.

Finally, after Ichigo’s constant nagging, Mint set down her cup of tea and pulled out from her table.

“Fine, if it’ll get you to stop bugging me. Besides, seeing Oneesama work so hard has me motivated!” She added with a gleam in her eye.

“Whatever puts you to work” Ichigo sighed. As Mint picked up a tray, she was suddenly flagged down by the innocent school boys.

“Miss!” They exclaimed. As Mint took notice of the customer, she put on service with a smile and went to work (for once)

As Zakuro looked upon their nervous smiles as Mint took their order, she felt an odd twinge in her eye.

“Zakuro..” Ichigo added nervously. Ichigo, Purin and Retasu stared at her as she exuded a fearsome aura.

“Ichigo” Zakuro added with a deep voice. Ichigo flinched from having been called in such a deep voice. “Can you help me with something?”

Meanwhile, Mint was flustered at the customers advances but tried to stay neutral.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Can I have your number”

Those were certain advances Mint wasn’t particularly used to. During her dance performances, she had fans and people who looked at her with adoration. But none so forward as them.

Denying more advances, Mint was starting to get a little annoyed. Mint wasn’t afraid to kick someone out for misbehaving but surely that would be the last resort.

“Is there anything on the menu you’d like?” She asked.

“That depends” The school boy added “Are you-“

The conversation was suddenly put to a scary halt as a tray slammed on the surface of the table. The school boys looked on nervously as Mint was quite stunned for words.

With an eerie glare in her eye, Zakuro had slammed on the table what appeared to be two parfaits dressed in an odd sauce.

“O-oneesama?” Mint inquired. It took a lot of strength out of Zakuro to not go full mew mew and kick them out.

“Here you go. Two mayonnaise and ketchup parfaits” Zakuro added with a monotone voice. The two boys were honestly too scared and confused to argue with her as she looked as if she could break their limbs.

“Eh?” Mint inquired.

“W-we didn’t order-“

“It’s on the house” She snapped as she glared daggers at them. The two boys looked on with disgust at the parfait, but too afraid to say no, they quietly thanked her.

As Zakuro turned away from the table, Mint looked back at the boys to see them forcing down a parfait with sour condiments. Meanwhile, Zakuro glanced at the other girls who witnessed the whole thing.

“Ichigo, did you have anything to do with that?” Retasu asked. The strawberry haired girl winked and shushed.

“Zakuro-neechan is jealous~!” Purin exclaimed out loud.

Meanwhile, Mint was absolutely flabbergasted at the scene that just unfolded. Mint however, paid no attention to the two boys who were clearly struggling to keep down the odd flavoured parfait.

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