daaaaaamn fragrantpharaoh, back at it again with those Sgt. Frog fanfictions!
Yup, here I am! I finally started writing a fic that I've wanted to do for a long time now, and I'm happy with how it is turning out so far. Sorry that the chapter is so short, not all of them will be like that. Lmao and sorry that the cover is so shitty, I did it in like 4 minutes.
As usual, I'm using gijinkas in this fic, and it takes place very shortly after the show ends, so that they've been on Pekopon for, like, 7 years now.
Be sure to leave a review and PM me with any questions!
Enjoy~!
Natsumi slumped through the front door and dropped her bag on the floor. "Ugh…," she groaned, kicking her shoes off. She slouched up the low step in the entryway and headed to the living room. The sweat dripping off her face and arms and the dejected way she walked gave off the appearance that she was melting. Her socks were so sweaty that they left footprints of moisture on the floor. Gross. She would have to make Keroro mop that up later.
"Fuyu-ki…," she called weakly. "It's so ho-ot…"
Fuyuki glanced up at her from the book he was reading and gave her a sympathetic look. "I know," he said, "the guy on the news said it was supposed to be over forty degrees today."
"Too hot…," Natsumi complained, draping herself on the couch that was gratefully cool against her skin. She heard the air conditioner kick on and breathed a little sigh of relief.
"That's why smart people stay indoors when it's hot," piped up Keroro from the kitchen. He stood in front of the sink wearing his frilly pink apron and washing dishes.
"It's not like I had any choice," Natsumi replied from the couch. She didn't feel like she had energy to be mad, even at Keroro. "I had practice today."
Keroro squirted some lemony soap onto his sponge and started scrubbing a greasy pan clean. "If it were me, Miss Natsumi, I wouldn't have gone. I mean, really, is volleyball worth the heat stroke…?"
"I wasn't at volleyball practice today, dummy; that's on Tuesday." Natsumi rolled onto her stomach and rested her cheek against the soft fabric of the couch. "I had wrestling today."
Keroro looked around at her in mild interest. "I didn't know you wrestled."
"I started last week… it's ha-ard..." She closed her eyes against the sun that shone in through the window. "All the other kids are so much heavier… I don't stand a chance with my naturally slim body…"
"I suppose steroids are always an option." Giroro came in through the sliding glass door. He had plainly been listening in on their conversation. The tip of his nose and patches on his cheeks beneath his eyes were pink with sunburn. He closed his eyes and leaned against the doorjamb. Even from where she was sitting, Natsumi could smell his sweat.
"I'm not gonna take steroids, Giroro, that's ridiculous." Natsumi buried her face in the couch cushion.
"You could be stronger, like a real soldier."
"I'm not a soldier, you freak," replied Natsumi, her voice a little muffled. Fuyuki chuckled.
Keroro squinted around at them for a moment, then asked, "What are these 'steroids' you speak of?
"It's chemicals you can take that make you strong and improve your performance in sports and stuff," Fuyuki explained.
"Make you… stronger?" Keroro inquired, his interest clearly being piqued again. He glanced at Giroro. "Like a super-soldier?"
"Something like that," Giroro replied before returning outside.
A dark, mischievous look settled over Keroro's face. Fuyuki recognized the sergeant's scheming look and quickly said, "Sarge, don't try anything, okay? Natsumi doesn't need a steroid."
"Yeah, don't you dare even think of doing anything to me. I don't want to be all buff, anyway. I think that I might quit wrestling," Natsumi said, sitting up and shooting the sergeant a look.
"No, no…" Keroro said placidly, returning to his dishes. "I won't do anything to you…"
"You better not."
"I won't, I swear."
"Alright…"
Keroro finished his dishes as soon as he could and headed for the underground base.
Keroro arrived at Kululu's room and knocked on the door. "Sergeant major!" He called, sounding like a caterwauling animal.
There was a brief fuzz of static feedback before he heard Kululu reply in a bored-sounding voice, "What do you want?"
"I need you to make something!" Keroro shifted his weight back and forth and put his hands on his hips. "Just let me in, will you?"
"Yeah, alright," was the response before Kululu's door slid open.
Kululu was sitting with his back to Keroro. His fingers clicked rapidly across the keyboard. The blue of his computer screen was reflected on the floor, Keroro noticed. Perhaps Kululu had recently waxed the floor?
Keroro stared at the screen for a moment (the sergeant major was writing out long strings of binary code), and then he stepped forward and said, "I want you to make something for me, Sergeant Major Kululu."
"Oh, yeah?" Kululu turned around. He sounded as though he was only pretending to be interested.
"Yes." Keroro fidgeted with one of his hat-flaps. "I want you to make a steroid. A really powerful one!"
"What do you want that for?"
"If we all give ourselves steroids and turn into super-soldiers, then we'll be able to invade this planet easily, yes sir!"
Kululu crossed his knees and rested his head on his hand. "We'll need to test it out before we all take it, in case there's any adverse side effects. I suggest," he said, grinning, "testing it out on Corporal Giroro before we try it ourselves."
"That's fine," Keroro said indifferently. "How long do you need to prepare?"
"A few days. But we'll have to wait at least a week to see how it affects the corporal." Kululu's glasses glinted as he cocked his head slightly and rose an eyebrow. "This sounds fun."
"Good!" Keroro said, giving Kululu a thumbs-up. "Get started on that as soon as possible, sergeant major."
"Roger that."
Keroro walked out of the room again, completely unaware that he had just made the first in a series of grave mistakes.