Hmm

“Giroro, are you in there?”

That voice brought a blush literally steaming to his cheeks, lightening his deep red face to a pretty shade of pink. “E-eh...” Giroro stammered, forcing himself to swallow so he could respond. “Natsumi, do you need me?”

“Maybe. Come out here so we can speak properly,” She requested, sounding quietly exasperated. He crawled out, and stood before her. Natsumi's posture matched her voice, with her hands stuck loosely on her hips. Her eyes were trying to find a place they could focus <i>through</i> the wall into the house, or so it seemed, and below them was a small frown. She flicked her gaze down to meet him, and she began, “Neh, Giroro...”

“Hn?” He responded with only the minimum, unsure of what else he might add. His stance shifted to military attention out of reflex, a faint tension straightening his spine as he waited for her to continue.

“What's been going on lately? And don't try to tell me it's nothing; I've been around you stupid frogs long enough to know when something's up!” Her brow furrowed in familiar anger, an almost comforting bridge over her distance before.

He did not want to hesitate, but that goal didn't give him the words he needed, and so he answered in pieces, “It's not... any kind of problem... that you need to worry about.” He nodded brusquely, and snatched a gun to polish from subspace storage. The action would normally have closed the conversation, but in Natsumi's opinion, there hadn't been anything close to a discussion yet. She wanted to keep tabs on what those stupid frogs were doing, and Giroro had given her the impression that there was some “kind of problem” here. Her hands found a more solid perch on her hips, and she bent forward to loom over the soldier for a moment.

“Oh, come on! That's ridiculous, and you know it.” She snapped. Giroro flinched, his rag stopping midstroke on the metal. She crossed her arms, pulling herself away from him suddenly. “If there's a problem, why shouldn't I worry about it? Half of what you guys do is a serious danger to this planet, too.”

“This has nothing to do with Pekopon. I can tell you that much,” He muttered sourly, his pupils collapsing into pinpoints. He resumed shining the gun, but each motion was jerky, directed by pure habit.

Natsumi dropped her arms to a limp position at her sides, but that didn't last long. It seemed that she needed something to occupy her hands with as badly as Giroro did, but she had nothing, and settled for clasping them behind her back. She avoided facing him, so he didn't see her unusual anxiety, as passionate as anything else about her, almost charring the grass. She wanted to keep tabs on these stupid frogs. She didn't like the idea of not knowing what they were doing, in case they got into trouble- <i>No</i>, in case they caused trouble.

“If it has something to do with you, it has something to do with me!” She whirled toward Giroro, her pigtails flaring up with spirit as much as motion. She gasped, eyes widening, recollecting her attitude with a quick breath. “At this point, I can't just let you do whatever you want without someone to look after you.” Her eyes caught a warm gleam above a smile that bordered on a soft smirk. “Okay?”

“I really shouldn't let a Pekoponian be involved,” He said gruffly, once again pausing in his work to give her a warning glance. His heart dipped in his chest, this was actually a chance at his dream; to be side by side on the battlefield with his Pekoponian princess. But that battlefield would be dangerous, and weren't princesses supposed to be protected? At the very least, they shouldn't just be shoved into danger, even if it did give you a major tactical advantage.

She shook her head, whipping his warning away. “Hey, that wasn't a request. I'm going!”

He swallowed, not fully able to let go of his dream, and above that, the notion of an extra advantage. They could use anything, but anything that was deployed was a weapon, including himself. There was a risk of breaking. He really didn't care, gunsmoke and blood both could be in or out of his veins, and he would be fine. Earth's Last Defense would hold her own, and it would be almost impossible for her to not serve some worthwhile purpose, but that didn't mean she would make it out for more. A scowl split his face, showing off shark-like teeth, and he hoped that it would somehow be enough to scare Natsumi, because he could only reach one conclusion after this thought. As a soldier, he had to take any weapon he could, for the sake of success in combat. Still, she did not even flinch.

“Fine,” Giroro grunted.

Natsumi grinned triumphantly, slamming a fist against her palm. “Thank you, Giroro! Just... tell me when you're ready, I guess.” She regained her composure to a degree with that pause, but her fierce aura was still almost tangible.

He couldn't remove his gaze from her. Her spirit, what he could only honestly call “guts,” gave him his own new determination. He was a soldier, a weapon, but he intended to see that she would only fight. No one would use her, in part because she would not let them.