The cyborg assassin and the space pirate captain

by The-Derp-We-Call-Taruru

My friend made me write this...so yeah o3o It's basically about Zoruru explaining to Pururu why he's so messed up. Why he hates Dororo, why he's made of metal. All that kind of stuff. I think it's a kind of sad story, has some funny and cute bits though later. o3o Has Zoru/puru in it in later chapters too, despite my friend hating that. Rated T for violence and swearing. o3o

1. Pirate flags and bed sheets

The cyborg assassin and the space pirate captain.
Chapter one- Pirate flags and bed sheets.
By The-Derp-We-Call-Taruru

(Disclaimer: I do not own Sgt frog/Keroro gunso. I own none of the characters and none of the plot lines.
I DON'T EVEN OWN THIS STORY! MY FRIEND CAME UP WITH IT! I'M JUST WRITING IT OUT!
I own NOTHINGGGG o3o )

{{A/N (authors notes): Right. So this is my first story ever. :D
I WAS going to write my first story about Taruru, cuz I love Taruru. But my friend said I should write one about Zoruru instead, and he said he would help me with it, so that's what we iz gonna do now. I can't think of many storys for Taruru anyways =3=
But yay! First story! I'll try and make it as good as possible. I apologize in advance for being a n00b. ^3^
I know the characters are seriously out of character, but I'm trying my best. So yeah, this first story is about Zoruru, it's based off of a group of role-players I have been playing with on Facebook. I edited everyone a little to make them somewhat closer to the real characters, but kept all the cute little head-cannon traits. EVERY CHARACTER IS A DERP! O3o
The next story I do, I will write about Tororo I think. But for now I will work on this one.
So uhh, I just want to say, constructive criticism I am open too, but please don't flame me or anything, I'm trying my best, I struggle with grammar and spelling, even with modern technology I'm bound to make some mistakes.
Right, enough rambling. Please enjoy the story and I'd love you forever if you'd leave me a comment telling me what you think of chapter one! ^3^ }}

Chapter one- Pirate flags and bed sheets.

He sat there. Frozen to the spot. Up against the wall, squashed up as small as he could make himself, hugging his knees to his chest and staring out from behind the barrels. The small tadpole couldn't have been more than five years of age, his skin was sickly and pale, his eyes were plastic, unusual looking artificial eyes, black with big red lights in the middle, like pupils. There were so many little cuts and scrapes and scratches on the little boy, blood dripped from various parts of his body, and he had bandages wrapped around his arms and legs, covering the horrific burns and infected, sore, cuts. His body was so thin, as if he hadn't eaten in a long time. His eyes, although robotic, filled with pure terror.

He sat, squashed up behind the barrel, hiding, and peering out innocently, watching as every now and then, large footsteps stomped by. After a while he let out a small sigh and looked up at the huge black flag, waving frantically in the harsh winds, above him. The big piece of waving material always fascinated the boy, how as it fluttered in the breeze, the big skull and cross bones in the centre seemed to dance. He felt a sudden splash of cold hit his head, and realized that it had begun to rain. The sky looked dull and gray, a small flash of lightning struck way in the distance, and rain began to fall heavier, like millions of tiny, wet bullets from the sky.

The little tadpole began to shiver, his skin prickling with the cold of the icy rain, and hugged his knees tighter, trying to retain his body warmth. He continued to watch the flag get thrown around by the wind, and sighed gently. He felt so scared, so alone, so much in pain. The raindrops gathered and covered the ship deck, the ground he sat upon became drenched in water, and as the small drops fell they created a harsh pitter patter sound. He sat there listening, the sound like sweet music to innocent ears, reminding him of waterfalls and the waves that crashed against the side of the ship.

He continued to sit quietly in his little hiding spot, mesmerised by the rain. So much so that he didn't notice as a large hand suddenly came down and wrenched him from the ground roughly by his tail. The tadpole screamed, his high pitch child's voice ringing with terror. The big hairy man was about the size of a large human, he had an eye patch and several scars across his big ugly face. His showing eye was bloodshot and filled with hate, large disgusting tentacles hung from his hairy alien face, like a beard. He held the young, scared tadpole up to his face, so close that the boy could smell his alcohol ridden, vile smelling breath. He started to cry, tears rolled down his bloodstained, baby cheeks. "Please don't hurt me! Please!" He screamed in terror as he trembled before the humongous man. "I won't do it again! I promise! Please!". The big hairy pirate, with a vile look upon his face, threw the small child into the wall. With a crash, the little boy slammed into the hard wooden surface, then splashed onto the cold wet floor.

More people began to gather around, all big sweaty men. Different types of aliens, all equally terrifying in the eyes of the child. He sat up slowly, looking around in terror, sparkling tears running down his face continuously, a look of sheer terror, and horror on his innocent little face. Some of them laughed in a cruel, sadistic way, others just looked upon the child, awaiting their entertainment. He backed against the wall quickly, still sitting, too afraid to stand. He looked up at the circle of pirates around him, all looking so threatening and horrible. He felt his stomach clench up, he was almost sure he was going to vomit. The ship swaying from side to side so harshly in the storm was only worsening his tummy as well. One of the pirates, the one from before, took a stand from the group, in front of him. The boy cried harder. "PLEASE! I promise I'll behave! I just want to go home! I miss my mommy! I miss daddy and big brother! I'm so scared! Please don't hurt me anymooooore!" He wailed miserably, his voice shaky and scared. He looked so heart wrenchingly terrified as he cried his little heart out.

The big pirate captain took another step towards him and drew out his plasma sword, a large, glowing, blue blade. It was three times the size as the child. And he held it inches above the tadpoles head. The little boy froze in terror, heart stopping for a second in fear. He found he couldn't breathe, staring at the huge deadly blade. His bladder gave out to fear, letting a warm puddle form around him where he sat. He didn't even care. He was so petrified. So scared out of his mind. He knew he was as good as dead. There was nothing the child wanted more than to be wrapped warmly in his mother's arms again, to feel the safety he hadn't felt in years. But here he was instead, with a blade above his head on a cold scary boat, all by himself.

He whimpered quietly, trembling violently as he sat there, frozen in terror and staring at the blade. A cold silence has fallen over the crowed of pirates that surrounded him. "STAND!" Boomed the pirate captain loudly, as he held the blade firmly in place. The tadpole stayed in his place, so terrified that he couldn't move. His brain had just frozen, he was barely able to process the captain's demands. "I SAID STAND!" The huge pirate demanded even more violence in his gruff voice. That was too much for the boy and the terror got to his stomach, which in turn decided to eject. He violently puked up, what mostly looked like blood and bile, all over the ground and the pirate's shoes. He was just so very scared.
He felt light headed and ill, he had no balance, his ears rang and his vision was blurry through all the tears. "...I just...want my mommy..." The little boy cried quietly, his voice becoming tired and sore.

The pirate captain was staring to get fed up. He harshly grabbed the child's skull and pulled him up off the ground, forcing him to stand. The young tadpole just stood there, shaking and looking up at the big scary pirate, eyes shining with tears, terror in his heart. The captain grinned a dark smile and held up the sword. "No one ever disobeys me runt. No-one!" He boomed as he threw the sword down, strait through the little boy. The tadpole gave a tremendous scream, a heart wrenching sound of terror from just a small child. As he split perfectly into two pieces. And died.

With a horrified cry of terror, Zoruru suddenly sat bold upright in his bed. Eyes wide and sweating, still trembling in fear and his sharp metal claws digging so far into his blankets that they were ripped up. He breathed heavily and looked around, then quickly leaned over and switched on the lamp by his bed. After a few minutes, he began to calm down a bit, his breathing slowed and he leaned back slightly in bed. "...the...the pirates...it's always them..." he mumbled to himself quietly as he wiped sweat from his face with his hand. The very rarely slept, the frog had never found sleeping to be easy. There were so many things he wanted to forget, and they always returned in his dreams. This must have been the first time he had slept in weeks. The platoon had spent several hours chasing and killing kilulu's, and had all found themselves exhausted. He simply couldn't stay awake.

He laid back down lazily, staring at the ceiling in misery. Trying to once again block his most hated memory of childhood. Soon enough he started to realize that his bed didn't quite seem as comfy as normal. He squirmed around a bit, trying to relax. But it felt warm and moist under him. After a few seconds it suddenly hit him, that beds weren't normally "moist". He cringed slightly and sunk down a little in shame. Lifting his blankets awkwardly and looking underneath. Of course seeing what he had thought, a large, warm, wet area beneath him. "...fuuuck" he whined as he pulled off his blankets in embarrassment and climbed out of bed, taking a better look at the humiliatingly obvious large wet patch in his sheets. He groaned in shame and rubbed his temples. As if he didn't have enough to deal with already. He knew he had to hide this. "God...if Taruru found out...even worse Tororo..." he mumbled, mentally hitting himself at the awful thought.

He looked over at the clock on the wall. "4am... no one should be up yet" he thought to himself. He quickly gathered up the dripping, pissy sheets into a pile and tiptoed over to his door. He stood there for a while, listening out, just in case there were footsteps or any other signs of people outside. After a while, it seemed clear. Carefully, and as quietly as he possibly could, he creaked open his bedroom door, sticking his head out and looking both ways. The coast was clear. Quickly and quietly he snuck out, carefully closing the door behind him, and crept down the hall carrying his pile of dripping sheets. If he could get to the laundry chute without waking anyone, he knew he could get away with this. As he walked quickly down the metal floor of the base hallway, the rather potent aroma of urine hit him, starting to make him feel rather queasy. He groaned quietly and tried to hold his breath. He couldn't stop himself wondering why this happened. He knew that the nightmares scared him. The memories of long ago haunted his very soul. But he hadn't pissed the bed since he was a child, it seemed odd to him that it would happen now. His minds drifted back to the memory. He looked down silently at his cold, metallic arm. It was good for use when fighting. It scared people and made him threatening... but he knew it would never be a real arm. And that made him feel somewhat...sad.

He completely lost concentration and suddenly bumped into something and fell over backwards. "What? What?!" he whispered loudly as he jumped back up in surprise and looked to what he had knocked into. To his horror, what he had knocked into looked back at him. "Lance corporal?" Nurse Pururu asked curiously as she climbed back up herself in slight surprise, looking at him in confusion with her large crystal purple eyes. It took the assassin a few moments to process what had happened, he suddenly realised that he had dropped his pile of sheets on the ground and quickly scrabbled to pick them up. "What are you doing up so early? Everyone was told to sleep after the fight." The female asked innocently as she picked up one of his damp sheets and handed it to him. "NOTHING!" he almost shouted, getting slightly flustered. He snatched the blanket from her roughly, his face tingeing slightly pink under his mask, desperately hoping she wouldn't realize what was going on.

"Lance corporal...?" she suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she put her hands on her hips. He started to get nervous but tried to keep looking as threatening and stern as always, trying to keep his cool. "...What are YOU doing up so early?" He asked, glaring at her as he hid the sheets discretely behind his back. "Hmm? Me?" She shrugged in a laid back way, "I was going to start making breakfast for everyone, like I always do. How do you think it gets made before everyone wakes up?" She smiled jokingly, "You never answered my question?". He flinched and shuffled around a little nervously, trying to come up with an excuse in his head. "umm...?" she said quietly before he could answer, and giving him a funny look. "I...uhh...I..." he stumbled awkwardly, trying to come up with something to reply with before she said anything. "Lance corporal...umm...have you had an accident?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly looking at his pile of slightly dripping sheets.

The man's face quickly grew bright red as he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. "NO! I mean...of course not...I mean...that's stupid...I'm an assassin...not a baby...I don't piss the bed...how dare you accuse me of such a pathetic act!" he growled nervously, trying to be threatening as he glared sharply at her. "Then why are your bed sheets dripping? And why is the inside of your metal leg going rusty?" The nurse asked knowingly, putting her hands on her hips. She could tell when someone was lying. He looked down in humiliation at his slightly rusting leg, he hadn't even noticed it before. "umm...umm I...I can explain!" he growled nervously as he crossed his legs to hide the rusting. "There's no shame in wetting the bed Zoruru. I'd rather you just told me the truth. Maybe I could help. Everyone has accidents sometimes." The female explained, trying to comfort him into telling her the truth.

He wasn't buying it though. "I did NOT wet the bed! I am an adult!" he snarled harshly. "It...it was Taruru!" he lied, "Taruru wet the bed! And...and he asked me to take away his sheets for him! That's all!". The nurse raised her eyebrow again, "Zoruru?" She said in a demanding tone, obviously sensing that this was a lie. "Stop bothering me! It was Taruru!" The assassin cried out in irritation as he rushed past her. He dumped the wet sheets down the laundry chute and dashed back to his room, locking himself in, in humiliation. The nurse continued to stand there for a little while. "...I think we may have a problem here." She mumbled concern in her voice as she looked over at the laundry chute. "...Nothing the nurse can't fix though! "she smiled to herself after a while as she continued back to the kitchen quietly.

~
{{A/N: Well there's chapter one for you. ^^
What do you think? I know it's a little out of character, I'm working on it though.
As you can see, it's rather a sad story at the moment, I will throw in a little humour as the story continues though. :3
As you can see, Zoruru had a rather "interesting" childhood. More will be explained in later chapters.
And yes, Pururu IS going to be relevant in this story. And the rest of the Garuru platoon will join a little later too.
So anyway, please leave a comment and stay tuned for chapter two. ^3^}}

**Author San. Over and out**
**