"Rio, are you alright?"
It took him a few seconds longer than he was supposed to in order to register that the question was directed at him. He pulled away from the window and turned to her expectantly. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"You seem a little out of it lately," Natsumi told him, frowning. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Uh, yeah, must be something I ate," Giroro mumbled dismissively.
"I would buy that if you had actually eaten anything," Natsumi said. "You barely had two bites for breakfast."
"Mm, I didn't notice."
Natsumi opened her mouth to say something else, but before anything came out, the helicopter stopped with a mild jerk, indicating to all that their ride had ended.
Giroro quickly got up, picked up the suitcase he never really used, and began to retreat to the outside.
The helicopter's choppers were whirling menacingly loud, splitting winds in all directions. He raised his hand to shield his face and promptly hopped out, landing, and nearly tripping, over his weak, wobbling legs that still hurt over the sea urchin's/dog's bite into the ocean.
As much as he had expected to keel over, he was surprised he was able to balance himself so quickly.
And the possible reason why made him sick to his stomach.
"Hey, Rio, wait!" Natsumi shouted over the noise.
Giroro hesitated for a moment, but then turned and met her. "Yeah?"
"Do you want to come inside?"
He thought about it. "No."
"Oh." She looked disappointed.
"I'll come back later, though," He suggested, wanting more than anything not to make her upset.
"Okay."
First, I have to talk to Keroro…
"Back home, right, D?" Koyuki said unnecessarily, sighing as she plopped backward onto her futon.
"It… does feel nice to come home," Dororo said, attempting to sound cheerful. He shuffled his feet awkwardly and stuffed his hands in his convenient pockets.
Again with the moving.
Dororo willed himself to stand still, but found himself unable to. He twitched his fingers together.
"What are you doing?" Koyuki giggled.
"N-nothing," Dororo stammered.
"You should be turning back about now," She mused. "What do you want to do before then?"
Well, that suggestion sounded… suggestive.
Dororo felt his face turn red. "U-um. I-I dunno. It doesn't have to matter, r-right?"
"I know!" Koyuki stood up and clapped her hands joyfully. "Let's make sandwiches!"
"…Sandwiches?" He sounded a bit too relieved. "Sure, I'll help." Most of the time her choice of food isn't always edible…
"Does the crawfish go inside the bowl before or after the eggs?"
"Huh?!"
Koyuki was already preparing her definition of a "sandwich", and he stopped her before she got too far.
"You start off with two slices of bread. I think."
"Oh," Koyuki paused thoughtfully. "I don't think we have any of that."
"We could always make the bread, although that'll take much longer."
"Then let's not make sandwiches," Koyuki picked up the crawfish again.
"I have an idea," Dororo said, putting his hand on hers to stop her again. "Why don't we have a cherry contest?"
"Cherry contest?" Her eyes widened with curiosity.
"We have cherries, don't we?"
They had stopped at one of the markets before they finally went back to their cottage. Normally they wouldn't have, but Koyuki had overheard Natsumi talking about there being a discount on cherries and suggested that they go get some. Dororo spent his money (or whatever money he had in general) on a small bag of cherries at the booth.
That was extremely random, but hey, the most random things happen on Sgt. Frog.
…I think the writer is just using that as an excuse.
"What's that?"
"Um… you put a cherry in your mouth, with the stem still on it, and then you try to twist it into a knot."
Koyuki gazed at him in confusion. "…You… try to twist the cherry in your mouth?"
"No," Dororo laughed. "You try to twist the stem."
"Oh! Okay. That kind of sounds familiar."
"Whoever knots it first wins."
"Okay!"
They each popped one in their mouths and began to chew, spitting out the seed but leaving the tiny stem.
Dororo laughed at Koyuki's attempts while he watched her lips twitch and wiggle in attempt to wring the blasted stem into a knot. In that fit of mirth, he swallowed the stem and choked on it for a few seconds while she hit his back with a flat palm to get him to spit it out.
"Are you alright?" Koyuki asked, her mouth still muffled. Just because of this minor distraction didn't mean that she still didn't have a chance to win. Dororo was coughing, turning away. He pulled off his mask and plucked off the stem from it.
"Yeuch. Remind me to never try that again."
"Hey!" Koyuki showed off her stem as soon as Dororo began tying his mask and turning toward her. She held it like a victorious trophy, a triumph of their little contest.
"Oh, congratulations, Ms. Koyuki!" Dororo said, his eyes creasing a little as he smiled.
"You know, I remember why this sounded so familiar."
"Really? How come?"
"I heard that when you're able to twist a cherry's stem into a knot, it means you're a good kisser!" She examined Dororo with gentle surprise. "D? Your face got all pale. Do you want to sit down?"
"Hey."
Fuyuki looked up from his book and saw his sister glancing out the glass window nervously.
"What's up, sis?"
"Has Giroro gotten back yet?"
"Oh," Fuyuki said, as if the thought suddenly struck him. "I don't know. I didn't even notice."
"I'm gonna go check."
She slid open the door and stepped out, the air crisp and cool. She closed it behind her and took a few timid steps toward the familiar red tent. "Giroro?"
No answer.
She sucked in a breath. "Giroro, if you're asleep, then wake up."
There was a still silence, and Natsumi had the reluctant feeling that she was talking to nobody. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she reached into her pocket and dug out the seashell bracelet. She sat down on the porch, her eyes glued to the fireplace that was kept peculiarly cold and quiet.
She closed her eyes and tried to picture the warm cackle of the familiar fire, or at least smell the homey scent of the sweet potatoes that aroused her senses, but there was a strange, lonely nothing.
Finally coming to the conclusion that Giroro wasn't here at all, she stood back up and went back inside- a defeated warrior.
"Intruder."
Giroro glared into the small camera that flashed a red light against his forehead.
"I don't have time to play around, Kururu!" He snapped. He felt his fists clench and tighten. "Open the frogging door!"
"Intruder."
Frog this stupid new security system.
Of course, it was a good idea, genius, even, to set up a strong surveillance system that would let the frogs and only the frogs (plus their associates; Natsumi and Fuyuki had insisted) inside. However, the possibility that the Keronians would be (or one Keronian in particular) in an entirely different form was never considered into the equation.
So Giroro had the security camera forbidding him entry to the secret base, where he could discuss this extremely unfortunate and unnerving situation and possibly even end it once and for all.
"Kururu, I know you can hear me! Open up!"
Chills ran through his body. His Pekoponian body.
Giroro stepped back, deciding that he'll have just have to use force to get inside. He prepared himself, imagined the gun forming into his hand…
And realized that he felt nothing materialize.
He looked at his barren hand in horror, relaxed, and then tried again, concluding that it's just all in his head.
He tried again.
Feel matter twist and shape against your fingers, harden into reality. Now feel the cool metal bend against your will, to form the weapon in mind…
When he rose his hand, again, there was nothing. No gun, no bazooka, no bomb.
Something rose in his chest, made him hard to breathe.
Pekoponians can't summon weapons at will.
"Keroro! I have to ask you something!"
Natsumi.
He ran off before she could see him, question him. As far as Rio was concerned, as far as she knew, he wasn't supposed to be there. This would only complicate things…
Don't start on that now!
Giroro managed to maneuver his way around Natsumi, making sure that she didn't notice him on the way out. When he finally found himself outside, he took a long, deep swallow of the cold air around him. He curled one of his hands and massaged his forehead, mentally pleading for everything to turn out right, for everything to maybe even return to the way the things were before.
He'll wait a few hours. The platoon will find him then- or maybe he'll even change back. Although, at this point, he had a worrisome doubt, like he felt that that possibility wasn't likely.
He sighed roughly, and with long, heavy, exhausted steps, he ambled a tiring journey toward the park.
"Keroro! I have to ask you something!"
Natsumi paused only briefly because she thought she heard footsteps. Quiet, faint, yes, but footsteps. She listened closer, but whatever it was, they were gone. She decided to just ignore it; it couldn't possibly be important.
"Keroro?"
"Natsumi Hinata," A voice hummed. "Scanning."
Natsumi jumped slightly, a green, web-like line spanning across her face and then slowly down the rest of her body. When it was done analyzing, there was a satisfying 'click', and the door whooshed open. She stepped in curiously, wondering where on Earth everyone was.
The base looked… empty. No Keroro lecturing some stupid plan or other, no Tamama munching on those fattening foods, no Kururu laughing maliciously while clacking his fingers against the keyboard, no Dororo crying and sulking in the corner… no Giroro antagonizing Keroro on said plan…
Natsumi gazed around everything, realizing that everything, even the impressive, shiny technology that the aliens were so thrilled on showing off had lost its splendor when they weren't in it.
Another fruitless search.
She turned and walked outside, her shoulders sagging heavier than ever.
After wandering around the park for several hours, snacking on a hotdog a very kind lady offered him, and taking a nap for a few more hours, drops of a cold liquid hit his nose, rolling off cheek into his open, gaping mouth.
Giroro erupted in a fit of coughs, surprised by the unwelcoming wake up call, and looked around, dazed and confused. It took a while for him to remember, and when he did, he eagerly looked at the back of his hands, only to put them down in disappointment.
How long is this going to take…?
Giroro leaned against the tree he had been sleeping against earlier and wearily looked up at the sky. Clouds were bunching up together, like cruel kids forming a gang to fight against a weak child. He frowned grimly and pulled his legs closer to his chest, watching the darkening sky with unwanted anticipation.
"There you are!"
"Kero?"
Keroro jumped slightly at Natsumi's sudden exclamation.
"Uh… yes, Natsumi?"
Oh, he hoped it wasn't another chore to do. Or a bet. But he didn't feel up to facing the consequences of doing work or being punished for another Giroro-and-Natsumi-and-Pie-related scheme.
"Isn't Giroro supposed to be back yet?" Natsumi asked, worriedly.
Having realized that the statement had nothing to do with work, he relaxed. "Uh, yeah. He is." The fact that she had just mentioned that suddenly hit him. "Wait. He's not back yet? I thought he was with-" He paused mid-sentence, and Natsumi gave him a look that indicated for him to go on. "-uuhh, with, you. You know. Sweet potatoes and such."
Natsumi closed her eyes and sighed. "No. I don't know where he is."
The two stood in awkward silence for a while before they directed their attention to the nearest window.
"Um… it… sure is getting dark outside, isn't it…?"
The tree didn't offer that much protection; the weak branches and fragile leaves couldn't support the weighty drops of rain that fell from the sky. Giroro had to leave and find a stronger tree- one that would protect him from the rain.
The one he found wasn't exactly perfect, but it kept him (mostly) dry and even a little warm. He checked the ground with one hand and promptly sat down, watching the rain fall harder and harder. Every once in a while a raindrop would fall through one of the leaves and hit him on his face, and he would respond by glumly swiping it off.
Why wasn't his platoon coming to get him?
The clothes on him felt damp and they stuck to his skin. He knew in a while he would be cold and itchy, but he didn't want to bother with the sentimentals. He didn't want to bother with the whole "I'm-turning-into-a-Pekoponian" thing.
"Hey, man, are you okay?"
Giroro looked up. He felt the anger rise in his head and he immediately jumped to his feet. "What do you want?"
"Um… I'm sorry," the metallic blond said, smiling apologetically. He tilted his yellow umbrella slightly and walked under the tree. Giroro slid back a step. "I'm not going to mug you, if that's what you think."
Giroro didn't respond, just glared.
"I'm.. I'm Saburo," The boy said cautiously. "Um, are you alright?"
"Fine," Giroro growled roughly.
Saburo was silent for a moment, switching his umbrella to his other hand. "What are you doing here so late?"
"What are you doing here so late?"
"I'm looking for someone," Saburo said, frowning slightly. "But you look like you need some help-"
"I don't need any help."
"You sure?"
The quietness that followed only emphasized the rain that fell heavily against the tree and the ground and Saburo's umbrella. The white haired boy finally took the handle of the umbrella, balanced it against his forearm, rested it against his shoulder, and begun to dig something out of his back pocket.
Any stranger would have wondered why he carried a notebook and a marker with him, especially in the rain, but Giroro knew. Admittedly he was curious as to what Saburo was drawing, but he pretended not to. He still considered this attractive young man his rival for Natsumi's love, even if Giroro more or less was dating her. And he definitely didn't want to start liking him now just because he was "Rio".
"Here," Saburo said, ripping out the page. It twinkled slightly as the image started to come to life: a big, white umbrella, closed. Giroro stared at it warily. "…Yeah, I know it's weird. But it's completely safe. Go on, take it."
Giroro took it out of courtesy; the poor guy had so many things in his hands, it looked like one false move and everything would fall splat to the ground. And he definitely didn't want to face Kururu's wrath if he ever found out that Giroro was sort of responsible for the fact that Saburo needed a new pen.
"So," Saburo said, as casually as he tried to muster. "What are you doing out here? You never answered my question."
Giroro swallowed a little, wondering whether or not he should answer to his enemy. He gazed at him steadily, and after a moment, decided, unwillingly, to just go along and pretend to be "Rio".
"It was nice outside."
Okay, that was a lie. But what else could he say?
"Usually most people tend to just relax at home."
At this, Giroro winced, and Saburo got the message, even if he didn't understand the whole story behind it.
"Want to come over?"
Natsumi popped the umbrella closed, and shook the wetness off it, sprinkling the ground outside. "Any luck?"
"No," Keroro's voice sounded from the kitchen. He appeared at the front door, his face considerably sullen and full of frustration. "I'll take it that you didn't find him either?"
"No," Natsumi shook her head.
"I mean, he could still be at Headquarters…" Keroro said, although the sentence drifted off. He of everyone knew that that wasn't possible, being as there was no such thing as an actual check-up at HQ for Giroro. Tamama, Dororo, Koyuki, Momoka, Fuyuki, Saburo, and even Kururu joined in a small search to find him. And then everyone got home, wet and cold, voicing their disappointments and regrets over the phone.
Keroro tried to communicate to Giroro over the collar, but for some strange reason, he wouldn't respond. After a few more futile calls, he gave up and decided to try again the next morning, assuming that the heavy downpour had something to do with it.
"Keroro, what if something bad happened to him?"
"What, are you kidding me?" Keroro said, trying to sound optimistic. "A grumpy, hard-headed, hard-boiled corporal like Giroro?"
Natsumi smiled faintly at this. "Yeah, you're right." She walked toward the back to gaze out the window, at the lonely tent that bounced slightly under the influence of the rain. "Remind me to kill him when he gets back home."
"Take a shower," Saburo had told him, "I won't mind. I'll get you some clothes, too; don't want you to catch a cold."
It was hot and steamy, vague clouds of mist forming around inside the bathroom. All this time Giroro had avoided the mirrors or anything with reflective surfaces for this somewhat distant fear he had about his appearance. He was mildly afraid of the fact that he looked too different from his true self, and, probably the most fearful of all, that he will never turn back.
Well, Giroro thought grimly. Now's a good time than ever I guess.
And with that, he swept his hand against the foggy glass and stared.
He had blond hair, with long bangs that swept against to his cheekbones and the rest fell down flat and ended at the small of his neck. He thought for a moment about brushing it, but remembered a painfully embarrassing incident that involved hairbrushes and immediately voted against it. His eyes were pointed, a bluish color- a little on the gray side, perhaps representing the likeness his eyes made when he was under intense situations. His skin was coral; a little pale like Natsumi's, though a bit pinker. And he was thin.
Giroro frowned and rose to his full height. Thin.
He wasn't sure he liked that this body made him look so… feminine.
Ha, ha! Girly-boy.
The devil returns. "Shut up, Narrator."
"Hey."
There was a tiny knock from the other side of the door. "I got some clothes for you to borrow; I'll put yours in the wash." There was a waiting pause, and Giroro realized that he must have been waiting for some sort of sign of gratitude. He mumbled an almost silent "thank you" in reluctant response, and with a satisfied chuckle, Saburo left.
Giroro opened the door and picked up the clothes that Saburo left for him. They weren't that bad; at least they looked comfortable. After slipping them on and stepping back outside, Giroro heard the door open.
"Any luck?"
"No." Such a twinge of displeasure.
Kururu?
Giroro leaned against the wall, listening in.
"This isn't good."
"Kururu… don't tell me you're… worried?" Saburo asked jokingly.
"Of course I'm worried. Who else am I going to use as my special lab rat? Ku."
Oh. They're looking for me. Giroro was a little disturbed he was able to figure that out by Kururu's comment.
"…Still, in all seriousness…" Kururu stopped, like he didn't want to continue, but with probable urging on Saburo's part, he added, "…I hope he's alright."
Aww, he has a heart.
"Yo," Giroro said, stepping into the room. Kururu stared at him in abrupt horror while Giroro grinned on.
"O-oh," Saburo looked at him, and then Kururu, and then back at him. "Um…"
"I know what they are," Giroro said evenly.
"I see," Saburo smiled, relieved. "Okay. Um, this is Kururu. Kururu, this is-"
"Rio," Giroro was utterly enjoying the look that demented scientist gave him.
Kururu evidentially recovered. "…My, Saburo, look what the cat dragged in."
"So, I'll take it you know each other?"
"…Quite."
There was silence that seemed to do nothing but stretch on, so Saburo promptly excused himself to let them talk, dirty clothes in hand.
"I see you're still in your Pekoponian form. Ku-ku-ku-ku~"
Giroro's smirk vanished. He sure knows how to kill the mood. "I wanted to ask you about this earlier." Kururu examined him thoroughly while Giroro continued, "I did change back, but it wasn't for a long time. I turned back to… Rio maybe an hour later." He shook his head. "After I, you know, go back, I'm gonna need to get off that thing before it's too late and I stay a Pekoponian."
Kururu finally stopped, a troubled expression clouding his face.
"It may already be too late."
Commercial Break~
Author's Note: Not a word, Saburo-haters. XD Not. A. Word.
And yes. The "incident with a hairbrush" is a direct reference to "Giroro's Secret Hobby". To you, Scissors.
So, the 20th chapter. Wow. Honestly, I don't think I would've gotten this far without you guys. Thank you so much for reading even this far. A special thanks to, mentioned earlier, RunwithscissorsXXXbattlescar s, Words make the story, and FutileCrux. You guys are awesome (: