Kururu hated that woman.
She was always smiling brightly, calling for her uncle. Just looking at her made trippy rainbows and beams of sunshine bounce around your eyeballs. She was so pure. It was a pureness and happiness his twisted mind could never comprehend.
That was why she frightened him.
Keroro wasn't really as shallow as he seemed. The Gunpla he collected, and his laziness, ineptitude, and other various things that caused his teammates to hate him…they were just walls. Walls that he put up to forget about his father. His childhood would not hurt him again.
It would not.
Dororo, though peaceful as the stillness of a pond on the outside, was filled with a fiery rage. Always, he was angry inside. He was bitter and resentful. Sometimes, he would hide it with his trauma, sometimes his self-control.
But one day, the fire inside would evaporate the pond without.
Giroro was tired of being the comic character.
Day in, day out, his enemies, rivals, and even his friends taunted him, watched him suffer, for their own enjoyment. They found ways to put him through pain, to humiliate him in front of the woman he loved.
And he hated it.
Tamama could never get anything he wanted. It wasn't fair. Gunso would never be gay, and who was he kidding, anyway? Just himself. He may as well forget about hating that woman, and find someone other than Gunso. But it hurt him.
He did not want to give up love.