Natsumi peered into the windowless room and was just able to distinguish the restrained form of Giroro. She turned to Keroro, who was unabashedly shaking. "Untie him," she ordered, "he isn't an animal."

Keroro shook his head and turned up his nose in defiance. "Nut-uh. Not until that door's closed again."

She once again felt the urge to wrap her fingers around his neck, but resigned with a sigh, deciding it wasn't worth it. "Listen, frog-breath. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, do not open that door, got it? I really think I can help him while I'm in there, but I'm pretty sure having an idiot like you around would be enough to drive anyone over the edge."

Keroro's wide eyes grew wet with tears, and Natsumi feared for a moment that she may have hurt his feelings. However, he abruptly threw his arms around her legs and began sobbing noisily against the ground. "Waaah, M-master Natsumi! It's s-so gallant of you, r-risking your life for my fr-friend Giroro! You are a t-true Keronian hero, de arimasu! Waaah hah hah…"

Natsumi reddened and pushed the despondent alien off her. "Hey! Is that anyway for a platoon leader to behave, blubbering like a child when Earth needs you? Don't worry about me or Giroro – go do your duty, soldier!"

Keroro sniffled up at her, his tear-filled eyes reflecting admiration and gratitude, before snapping upright into a full salute. "Aye aye, Master Natsumi! I will entrust our beloved corporal to your care and return to my commanding duties, de arimasu! Godspeed!"

Natsumi smiled, having realized that, at that moment, she didn't entirely hate him; he really did care about his friends, at least. She turned and looked once more into the shadow-filled room, drawing a deep breath before stepping inside.

He watched it enter, unmoving. Keronian, female, alone and unarmed. Too easy.

The restraints had fallen from him as his enemy approached. He had no gun, nor could he summon one, but he would not need one for something this pathetic. Standing, he drew back slightly and propelled himself like a slingshot in a full-speed frontal attack. Then he was on the ground, looking up into the eyes of his opponent; it had flung him bodily to the ground in mid-attack and pinned him before he'd even known what happened.

"Giroro?," it said, "Giroro, it's me, Natsumi."

A thread of something like electricity coursed through him at the sound of its voice and the words its spoke. No! This opponent sought to crush his will with its mind-games, but it would not work. He would not be defeated by something so low. Summoning his energy, he wrenched his opponent away from him and threw it across the entire length of the room, earning a high-pitched cry of pain from the creature. Not wanting to lose his advantage, he darted upward and shot once again toward the enemy, only to have his own momentum used against him as he was sent crashing into a wall.

"Stop this, Giroro! Don't you remember me? Don't you know who I am?"

Something was wrong about this fight. Not only was he losing, but a slow, throbbing pain had begun seeping into him. His physical injuries were starting to trouble him, something which they had never done before, and every time his enemy spoke he felt the uncomfortable prickling of something intangible.

Kill it kill it kill it…

He stood. This was a dangerous enemy; he must eliminate it quickly. Using animal instinct and brute force, he leapt onto his opponent and began beating at its face and body with both fists. He relished the feel of hot blood splashing on his face, and the sound of muffled screams of pain. But then, his opponent did an unexpected thing – it latched onto him. The angle made it difficult to deliver any substantial damage, but he continued a vain barrage of blows as the enemy spoke, persistently and painfully.

"Listen to me, Giroro. You know me. I'm Natsumi – Natsumi Hinata. I'm not your enemy, I'm your friend." The words came out in a sputtering jumble, half-choked around tears and a mouthful of blood. "You… you've always cared about me. Remember? Remember all the times you've helped me when I needed you? And I know there's more to it than just that. You loved me, Giroro, and I know you still do! You have a picture of me inside your belt… don't you? I didn't realize it until yesterday when you sent me away, and I still don't know for sure if it's true or not, but I feel like it is, and what's more is I want it to be! Because I understood it yesterday, that you loving me is more important than anything to me – I couldn't get on that ship because I need your love more than I need to live! Giroro, I… I…"

She stopped and panted, having been unable to halt the mindless tumble of words long enough for a single breath. Giroro had also gone still, unable to continue his onslaught, yet not fully in control of himself either. In his mind a thousand voices screamed a thousand different orders, and his attempt to sort through them all was like grasping at straws in a whirlwind. She pulled him back and looked into his eyes with silent yearning, and that's when he saw it – the lone straw in the wind that was his glimmer of hope, his direction, his purpose. But he didn't have the strength to reach out and take it; his body and will were being battered by fear and doubt and anger and countless other obstructions. He would need her once more, just to hear her voice say something, anything, to help bring him to himself.

Suddenly her bloody, battered face broke into a smile and she chuckled softly. Her cognizance was trickling away, and it was clear she was rapidly sliding into delerium. "Giroro," she mused, "I just realized… you're taller than me."

That was all it took. Every dam broke, every wall shattered; he could see for miles, fully self-aware and cognizant of all that was happening. Natsumi… he looked down in horror at her pitiful form. She had forcefully driven him back to the brink of sanity, then knocked him over with a feather. But the cost had been herself, and the pain of knowing that he was the one that had done it to her was exceeded only by that of another thought – that she'd done it all for him.

"Natsumi…," he whispered shakily. "Oh god – what have you done?"

She smiled languidly at the sound of his voice, as if satisfied that he was okay again. "Heey, you," she slurred, "gladda see y'back… Geero…"

Without wasting a moment, he gingerly lifted her and ran to the door, summoning all of his strength to kick it down. A crowd of panicked faces turned to him as he burst into the room, but he didn't care. The others could burn – Natsumi was the only thing that mattered to him.

"Keroro!," he bellowed, unable to control the panic in his voice, "where are you? It's Natsumi – she needs help!"