Chapter Text
—
Since deserting from the Keron Army, the celeste-shaded Keronian felt the whispers of hands on their neck dragging them to a fitful rest shortly after the closing of their eyes. These hands would drag them to the depths of an abyss they were uncomfortably accustomed to, an abyss that would both fuel and plague them. Their rest would be dreamless. Only darkness consumed their resting mind, not a hint of conjured-up fantastical dreamscapes like before, yet searing cold hands would still haunt their skin, unyielding.
Tonight, a different pair of hands joined them—hands that belonged to someone who was once... still was dear to them. They dared not think of him in the past tense. They shook like a soggy lamb’s legs, and burned like ichor. A crumbling voice whispered their name, “Jashushu,” that wormed into their fit and staggered them awake.
Jashushu, startled as they were, dared not move unnecessarily after that. Downturned eyes snapped to the kneeling figure holding their midsection with urgency: canary yellow-shaded arms that, despite their incessant shaking, held Jashushu with an intimacy and gentleness that almost reeled them back into slumber.
The celeste-shaded Keronian counted down from sixty seconds until they began to turn to their side and lift their body upright, carefully watching how the other reacted. His hands didn’t move from Jashushu’s midsection; rather, they held on tighter, unwilling to let go.
This was becoming quite bothersome. Their gut was beginning to twist at the sudden proximity– it wasn’t like they weren’t used to his sudden touches. Rather, having such loyal hands cling to them during their most troubling hours of the day created a juxtaposition that made their guts pool with a strange sort of distress. Carefully, they cleared their throat. “Tonana. Quite the unyielding hands you’ve got there.”
Tonana flinched at the soothing voice. He snapped his head up, a singular eye widening at Jashushu’s own eyes staring back at him. The other, afflicted with cataracts, stayed downturned, melted. Jashushu noticed that Tonana’s face was riddled with lines, presumably pressed onto his face from the bedsheets he must’ve been molding his face into; his glasses were long off his face. With a tiny twitch of their hand, they realized they stood next to his hands, and they gently handed them back to their owner.
Clearly embarrassed, Tonana took the glasses with twitching fingers and haphazardly stuck them back onto their face. If it weren't for the predicament presented, Jashushu would’ve giggled at the sight.
“Tonana,” Jashushu called back again. “Why are you here?”
At Tonana’s suddenly wilting expression, they quickly added, “It’s not like I don’t want you here. But,” a glance at the wall, “it’s 4:47 am, in Pekoponian hours. What warranted you to be up so early, tugging at me?”
The canary-yellow Keronian let out a deep exhale. That sound, it always sent Jashushu a little bit off-edge. When they were younger, back on the planet Keron of pseudo-green seas and star clouds, Tonana rarely sighed so heavily: he was cheerful and interesting, like the other tadpoles running around Keron before enlistment. Now, just weeks after his crash landing on Pekopon, the sounds that escaped from his mouth were almost always sopping sad.
Tonana’s body itched to be closer to his childhood friend. He clambered up the tiny mattress so that their bodies were closer to each other. His desire for comfort was met when Jashushu linked their thin arms around Tonana’s figure, squeezing with a message that said, “I’m here.”
His breathing steadied after eight seconds. “Pekoponians…” He whispered into Jashushu’s shoulder. “Are so– vile.”
Jashushu blinked at the ire that spilled from Tonana’s mouth. ’And we aren’t?’ The psychological torturer thought, thumbing the masochist medic’s back with a stubby Keronian finger. “What happened, Tona?”
Tonana shivered at the nickname, tears pooling in his eyes. “That vile woman was looking at me as I made my way to the Keroro Platoon’s base… she was looking at me with interest. There was clearly a desire to split me apart and study my insides, no doubt about it. That– that vile woman! Vile Pekoponians! I can’t stand them!!”
Jashushu was sure he was talking about Aki Hinata, the matriarch of the Hinata household, who beamed at their Keronian invaders with the interest of a child seeing a sparkly object for the first time. Though Tonana had it all wrong: Aki had no interest in dissecting their tiny frog alien bodies. They were sure Aki simply stared at Tonana for so long because of her natural curiosity about the Keronian species, and because of Tonana’s eye-catching hidden eye, plagued with deep cataracts. They said nothing, merely analyzed, as Tonana continued to blabber on with fear and regret, clinging tighter to Jashushu with each finished sentence.
Once Tonana was only a mess of sobs and trembling limbs, Jashushu gently peeled the other off of them. Dilated pupil, rapid breathing; Jashushu could almost hear a devastated voice bouncing around in that head, weeping in deep regret of their decision made two years ago to join the Keroro Platoon in their “doomed” plan of invasion. ’Had I not insisted on leaving the Grand Star and acting as medical aid for the Keroro Platoon, I would have never experienced such torture at the hands of Pekoponian maniacs,’ or along those lines.
Despite being peeled off, Tonana still clung to their arms, head tilted down. Jashushu let him cling, listening intently to him until he settled down into broken hiccups. Only then did they speak again. “Tona.”
No verbal response for ten seconds. Jashushu tried again. “Tona.” When the canary-yellow Keronian issued a small hmm in response, they continued. “Look at me.”
Tonana hesitated. Jashushu counted twenty-eight seconds before Tonana reluctantly peeled his gaze from the bedsheet below him and linked eyes with Jashushu’s. His singular eye, not hidden by a sparkly four-pointed star sticker, was glossy with tears. His breathing remained shallow, and his mutated tadpole tail was tucked underneath a pillow. Rigid shoulders.
The symptoms assembled themselves inside Jashushu’s head before they could stop them. Years of military conditioning with their psychological prowess were awfully stubborn things. “You know,” they murmured, almost absentminded as they worked a way to calm down the sniffling Keronian before them, If you were one of my assigned evaluations back on Keron, I’d have already been halfway through writing your report.”
Tonana stared blankly at first. “... You always did write too much,” He muttered hoarsely after Jashushu counted down seventeen seconds, yet the comment made his eye crinkle in fondness, albeit for a moment. Jashushu’s mouth quirked upward, yet silence regained the room. Then–
“I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong.” Tonana’s eyes flickered. “Pekoponians did restrain you and cut you open,” Their thumb resumed its slow path across his back, gentle. “I’m not foolish enough to pretend that never happened.”
At that, Tonana’s grip loosened by scarcely a fraction, an eye crinkling into dissent. “Then why– then why does everyone keep saying these Pekoponians are different?”
Ah.
He must’ve been put through hours of Keroro’s ramblings about Fuyuki, the first Pekoponian boy he met. Apparently, at least to Tonana, Fuyuki was the one who saved him from his captors. Jashushu was the one who told him that, and a twinge of regret pricked their heart. They had also said, “Not all of them are… that boy, Fuyuki, saved you from that place,” and called the Hinatas “benefactors”, despite noticing before the rest just how traumatized Tonana was from his first Pekoponian encounter, even before Fuyuki had stepped into the medical room in which Tonana was left to heal.
Their insensitive words had only deepened Tonana's confusion. Jashushu had recognized the mistake only after the conversation had long ended, once Tonana had withdrawn into himself instead of reaching outward. He had never been given the chance to ease into the idea. Jashushu had thrown him straight headfirst into it before he was ready.
… Also, they should probably draft a handbook on treating recovering PTSD patients, specifically for the Keroro Platoon, as they were a bit emotionally dense.
Jashushu lowered their gaze to the blankets pooled around their laps. “... Tona.” Their voice came softer this time, yet all the more deliberate. “What was my job?”
The medic frowned. Three seconds before he answered. “You were a Junior Officer Captain, as were most of the members of our Fallback Platoon.”
“Mhm.”
“You…” His voice slightly faltered. “You broke people.”
“I did. I enjoyed doing it as well.” The admission slipped from their mouth with unsettling ease, pooling in their gut with a viscous comfort. “I found satisfaction in watching particularly stubborn minds bend under my will.” Jashushu let the words linger in the air, and when Tonana frowned and tilted his head like a deer in confusion, they continued. Good. He was thinking now.
“However,” their fingers stilled. “Do you think the Keroro Platoon enjoys that?”
Tonana blinked. “Uhmmm.”
“Keroro?”
“No.”
“Dororo?”
“...No.”
“Giroro?”
At the mention of his name, the canary-yellow frog flushed a delightful pink that painted his skin like the swirling sweetness of strawberry lemonade. Quickly, he shook his head in defense of his crush. “No!” But they stilled halfway through the motion. “Well… maybe. Kururu definitely might.”
Jashushu thought back to the sadistic yellow frog who holed himself up in his lab, conjuring up all sorts of hijinks and whatnot. Their gentle face twisted to a rapid anger that came just as soon as it left– the Keronian engineer had left them partially deaf, and to this day, they hadn’t forgiven the other. Tonana, thankfully, hadn’t noticed, probably daydreaming about the red alien frog named Giroro wishfully.
Jashushu hummed. “Then why do the people who hurt you get to decide what every Pekoponian is for you?”
The room fell silent once more. This time, it wasn’t oppressive, like the one that Jashushu’s character reflection left; it was a tentative, thoughtful one. Tonana looked away first, arguing weakly, “They’re the same species.”
“They are.”
“Then how can you be so certain that not every Pekoponian is as vile as they are, Yashi?”
Their nickname. It left Jashushu fluttering for half a second. Tonana was calming down, rationalizing again. This was good news for the mind-breaker. They let out something between a sigh and a laugh. “I’m not. I don’t know every Pekoponian, and I don’t know what stranger will do. I only know the Pekoponians I’ve lived with.”
Their eyes drifted towards the quarter’s doors. “Do you know what Aki Hinata, that vile woman, has spent the past two weeks wondering about?” When he gave the tiniest shake of his head, Jashushu’s finger resumed painting invisible waves on his canary-yellow back. “Whether I’ve been eating enough. Apparently, I have a habit of forgetting meals.”
Despite himself, Tonana let out a tiny, wet snort.
Jashushu leaned forward and quietly adjusted Tonana’s crooked glasses, nudging them back into place with practiced familiarity. Their words had been enough to plant a seed of doubt in Tonana’s own reasoning, and for tonight, that was enough.
“You don’t have to believe me tonight. You don’t have to like the Hinatas. You don’t even have to speak to them.” Their free hand drifted down, lightly enclosing Tonana’s trembling one. “So borrow my judgement instead.” Their brows knit together. “I’ve lived under their roof for two years. If they truly wished us harm…”
A tiny pause. Jashushu squeezed his hand once. “... they’ve had ample opportunity.”
Tonana grimaced. “They just haven’t gotten to you yet. You’re just lucky.”
Jashushu couldn’t help the flinch that erupted from their body. Despite it, they continued, voice softer than before. “I might have been. But they’ve had two years to hunt me down.”
Tonana looked down at their joined hands. “...I…” His voice threatened to disappear again. “I’m scared.”
“I know. I was too.”
“What if I panic again?”
“Then panic. I’ll be there.”
Tonana seemed shocked by these words. He would’ve reeled back had Jashushu’s other hand not been there to hold him in place. “If breakfast becomes too much, grab onto me.”
Tonana looked down at their conjoined hands. Sure, Natsumi Hinata seemed to heavily dislike the frogs, but if she had held any real threat towards them… they would’ve all surely been strapped to tables by now. At the thought, Tonana shivered, and Jashushu’s downturned eyes softened. “I’ll leave with you.”
This time, Tonana really did reel back. He slipped from Jashushu’s arms and landed on his bottom softly, staring at his childhood best friends with surprise. “You’ll really leave with me?”
The celeste-shaded Keronian was almost offended by these words, though they made no move of showing it on their tranquil face. “Tona,” their voice carried the same quiet certainty in which they had once promised Tonana to share stolen lunches and patch shredded tiny knees back on Keron.
“I deserted an army. I left my sister behind. I thought Luchacha had died.”
Their throat tightened.
“I am not…”
A breath. “... letting you eat breakfast alone.”
A small smile twitched on their face, soft and warm, despite the slight discomfort of opening themselves up, this late into the night. But for Tonana, they would do anything for. “So, grab onto me.”
—