Purin Fon was here

Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew

Taruto was here.

Purin shivered against the haunting words. They seemed to be jumping soundlessly at her face.

Taruto was here.

Blinking back tears, she wiped a hand across the cold walls, touching the neat handwriting with her fingertips. It answered in painful whispers. She grasped at empty air as the letters echoed through her ears.

So close yet so far.

God, had he really been here? Was he really here?

Her voice shimmered weakly inside her head, providing no real assistance. Her brain found it difficult to respond with her pitiful pleads. She moved a palm over the phrase repeatedly, over and over. For something so simple, it now felt like a heart-breaking reverberation pounding at her skin.

He was her life . . .

He was more to her than she had ever bargained for, more than just a friend.

Much more . . .



Purin leaned over her classmate's shoulder. She was barely able to make out the microscopic letters.

"T . . . Tart . . . Tart was here?"

Taruto grinned, putting away the last of the white chalk.

"Gotta love my phrase," he said. "Really. You should try it sometime; it really is good to write stuff like that everywhere you go."

She made a teasing face.

"Don't you ever get bored?"

Taruto chortled.


"We're gonna run out of walls for you to draw on if this continues."

He sneered.

"Well, if that's the case, then I guess I should begin writing on trees!"


"Okay, okay!"

Purin gave a mock-frown before resuming packing her bags.

Taruto had always loved writing his catchy axiom. He loved printing it in places where he'd rarely visit. Like today, in the strict substitute math teacher's room.

Purin had nothing against it, although sometimes it did get kind of ridiculous.

"With you doing that all the time, I may never have to worry about seeing you ever again!" she snickered.

Taruto smirked, pulling his jacket over his shirt as he did so. His outer piece of clothing matched his black pants seamlessly, like peanut-butter on jelly. His shiny black shoes sparkled in the mild sunlight like diamonds. He took a few steps toward his assigned desk. There, he bent down to retrieve some fallen textbooks. Purin and Taruto were both alone in the classroom. Everyone else had barged out hours ago. Of course, generally, Taruto would have crumbled out right after them. There was a slight 'incident' today involving the sub, and somehow, he was forced to stay after dismissal to clean. Purin insisted on following him to help, because she'd never go home without him.

So with that, they both ended up cleaning, ridding the room off every piece of filth.

As Taruto zipped his satchel, Purin couldn't resist but blushed at his proud figure. He looked awfully nice picking up his supplies with his head bowed low.

She colored deeper.

Not to mention cute . . .

This admiration was somewhat weird due to the fact that she'd never scanned him in his ordinary school uniform before . . . more less turn pink in front of him.

Perhaps there was a reason?

She collapsed back to Earth at a soft slap upon her back. The brown haired boy gawked at her, slyness written chaotically over his amber pools. He flashed her one of his sight-blinding smiles, making her wince.

The two settled into their coats and went on out of Tokyo Middle School. Sun touched their faces while they walked. It took them no time before encountering their main roads. As they waited for the light to turn green, Taruto tapped on his friend's skirt lightly.

"You're gonna need my phrase for life someday," he said matter-of-factly, taking their previous conversation elsewhere. "In fact, you'd be relieved--grateful that I do what I do."

The thirteen year old rolled her eyes sardonically.

"Yeah, right, like I would miss you. I can take long glimpses of you every single hour. You're everywhere with me. I don't need you writing on walls or chalkboards or lockers or . . . whatever to indicate that you've been there."

"You never know."

"Sure I do!"

"Yeah, well, anyways, I'll see ya tomorrow then," he laughed. "I'm taking the short-cut."

Purin blinked in surprise.

Taruto normally went her way.

"Oh? You are . . . ?"

"Sure," the chestnut haired student replied. "It's not like there's harm. Besides, I've gotta get back fast today. I've . . . errm . . . got some trouble going on, with my family."


She watched disappointedly.

"We'll go home together tomorrow," Taruto assured. "I really need to go now."

He waved one last weak good-bye.

When Taruto was fully gone, Purin found herself hesitating, indecisive of where to head to next. She worked up a decision to drop by in the store across the street to get some bread. Her siblings would do for a few extra stacks of food here and there. Scrambling around in her jacket-pockets, she pulled out some yen. Next, she stuck her head out and examined both ways. The automobiles were swift this particular afternoon, making it virtually impossible to cross.

She stood by the bus stop impatiently, begging silently for the signal to turn green. The method took forever.

By the time the buzzing noises of over-dramatic trucks were sliced, it was already seven minutes passed schedule. She glanced from left to right.

No vehicle in display.

Purin prepared to skip the next steps, when an ominous crash erupt the peacefulness of the city with a deadly 'CLAAAAAAAK'!. Commotion was first to reached her hearing instrument.

Before Purin could do as little as react, a petrified teen had dashed into her path; sending her crashing to the ground.

She groaned.

The stranger apologized vigorously and helped her up.

"What's going on?" she asked confusedly.

The girl's green locks, Purin saw, were matted on her skull firmly with sweat. Her blue eyes were widened agitatedly. Her body appeared very much panicked. She opened her mouth, unshackling a whispery, frantic, hasty, sentence.

"Call an ambulance!"

Purin balled her hands into fists.

"But w-what happened?"

"Boy in black . . . brown hair . . . got hit . . . he got hit!"


"He got hit!"

Not waiting for Purin's final reply, she took off again, shouting, 'call an ambulance!'

Purin wobbled helplessly.

Boy in black . . . ?

Then who's . . .?


Tar-Tar was in black and . . .

He took the short-cut!

No . . .

No . . .

No . . .



She broke off into a run. Her heart pounded hard. Piercing screams filtered her lungs. Her small feet pattered against the walk loudly as she jogged, sweat rolling down her cheeks. It was unavoidable. Her systems were technically bursting apart; going hysterical. It felt as if she was submerged into the oceans, drained of breath. Each object was a blur to her eyes. All she could concentrate on was leaping; flying over to the misshapen.

Blood was everywhere when she at last tumbled into the disaster. Three nurses were tenderly lifting the injured victim into a white car. Fragments of brown hair were everywhere, showering the walk like sparkling sticks.

Only one thing circled through her head as she absorbed the news.

Don't let it be him, don't let it be him . . . please . . .

Lights flashed continuously against her lips and she yanked her vision away, full of regret and guilt.

She was afraid to look. Afraid to look at whoever got ran over.

She slammed two hands over her ears.

I don't want to discover who! I don't want to discover who!

Trails of tears trickled down her eyelashes to the floor.

As much as she tried to remain clueless, she already caught the answer.

The black sneaker soaked with warm liquid . . .

The shoe . . .

HIS shoe . . .

It couldn't be him, it couldn't be . . .

Next she knew, she was screaming.

She just threw her head high and screamed.

Screaming her lungs out.

Screaming . . .

Screaming . . .



Valentine walls flickered contently. She was welcomed back with bright pink designs. The tables before her were white and blue. The carts were loaded with tasty pastries, ready to be sold. She looked at the dirty cloth squashed in her palm. She was still at . . .

. . . The cafe . . .?

She heaved a sigh, scolding herself for drifting off. Drifting for yet the fifth time this week. She rubbed a clean hand over her forehead and darted her eyes around the room.

She wanted to forget. . .

She tried her best . . .

. . . But she couldn't . . .

How could she work after her love's horrible death? His life had been snatched away so quick. Everything had been turned upside-down . . .

She couldn't take it anymore!

"Purin-chan . . .?"

She dizzily twirled her neck at the voice and matched face to face with a worried looking Retasu. The green-dressed maid was eyeballing her anxiously, etched with anxiety and concern.

"P-Purin . . . well, that is . . . do you need a hand?" she asked softly. "You've been standing there gaping at the wall for almost an hour . . ."

Silence . . .

Purin bit her lip.

She saw me slipping out the whole time . . .?

I've no idea . . .

It did seem somewhat long . . .

I must be getting really annoying . . . I doubt I'd get my salary by the end of this week.

"Um . . . Purin-chan . . . perhaps I can finish your work now?" Retasu asked once more.

Purin shakily shook her head.

"No, Retasu-chan . . . I can finish my work . . . I just need t--"

"Really, Purin-san, I can complete it for you . . ." Retasu offered a pleading look.

Then, in a delicate voice, she nudged her carefully.

"Why don't you visit him?"

She jerked back.

A napkin floated to the floor.

She stuttered,


"That's what you've been thinking about, right?" Retasu questioned surely. "It's been bothering you. Ever since, I--I mean . . . I know that . . ."

"No, it's not about that . . ."

"Just visit him and it'll be all right."

"But I'm already over --"

"Trust me; it'll make your day better."

Purin exhaled sadly. It was never possible to hide away whenever Retasu was around. Once Retasu sets foot into someone's business, she won't step back out until the problem was done with. Purin knew she had had her sight on her ever since the accident. Every day at work, whenever she wasn't occupied, she would observe Purin. The actions often made Purin stressed.

She was formally cautious of not getting too close though . . . for the sake of having to face the old news a second time. She was careful to turn away whenever Retasu was nearby.

However, the strategy didn't work out suitably today.

"R-Retasu . . . I-I can't do that, you know I can't . . ." she murmured in defeat. She tried her best to smile. "He's gone . . . I just have to accept that . . ."

"You are."

The younger girl twisted away, fighting the urge to yell.

"You are . . . you are, Purin-chan . . . but . . . he wouldn't mind if you pay him a visit."

"But I . . . I can't go there," Purin squeaked, her voice utterly unstable. She remembered how uncontrollable she was the last time she went to the cemetery. Her tears were unstoppable.

"I can't go there," Purin repeated. "It's for the dea—"

"Then don't."

She cringed.

"You don't have to go there, Purin. He's always with you, just find the right place. It could be anywhere. Anywhere at all. He's everywhere with you. So go keep him company."

Purin shut her eyelids tiredly. She walked away, mouthing a "not anymore".

"Sorry, Retasu, but I can't," she choked. Her voice was quieter than a ghost. "He's gone."

Soon after, she exited the café, not bothering to change back into her normal clothes.

The air was humid and warm, hugging her with sticky liquid. She walked up to Tokyo Park. It was Taruto's favorite place.

She sighed, pushing back leftover tresses. She took a seat on a swing by the trees, her knees daintily pressed on the wood. She put both hands on the seat.

What could she do to get on with things?

What COULD she do?

Without him, she was as useless as they go.

The sun shone softly on her back, draping her with golden light. The place was so peaceful and carefree; it was almost as though everything was trying to illustrate she was the only one not moving on with nature and Earth . . .The only one spinning forever in a vortex of nothing. Only . . . how could she not? That event was so sudden; she'll remember it for the rest of her life!

It had been just a normal day . . . a regular day, with the exception that he had to take a short-cut . . .

It was simple!

And then . . .

All that had to happen . . . why?

A piece of past-dialogue traveled into her thoughts as she coped.

"Yeah, right, like I would miss you. I get to take long glimpses of you every single hour. You're everywhere with me. I don't need you writing on walls or shops or lockers or . . . whatever to show me you've been there."

She couldn't have been more wrong! She needed him more than she needed her own life! She needed him to show her he'd been there!

She squeezed at the wood roughly. Pain invaded her fingers and she bit her lower lip.

Birds chirped musically nearby, offering companionship, giving minor support. Flowers swayed in the breeze, blooming with emotion. She closed her eyes, allowing her inner self to take over.

"You're gonna need my phrase for life someday."

She didn't want his phrase, she wanted him.

"Gotta love my phrase, really, you should try it sometime; it really is good to write stuff like that everywhere you go."

But it's only a phrase! What's so special about that phrase?

Better yet, why was it stuck to her cells at all?

That was what she wanted to know. That was what's been a hassle.

What was it doing inside her?

She smashed a palm over her brow. Ever since that day, the phrase was the only thing that rushed through her body. It was almost like a curse. One rotten curse that tended to pull her down every time she tried to run.

"You should try it sometime; it really is good to write stuff like that everywhere you go."

I never cared about your saying! All I want is you!






She stopped.

There were dents under the swing. She squirmed. Her fingers ran across the marks suspiciously. They felt like bristly, heavy, teeth marks. Escaping out of her thoughts, she bent down to examined under her seat.

Her eyes widen when coming in contact with the calm-destroying words, the very ones seen long ago; the ones that had been crashing within her brain these past months, beseeching for acceptance . . .

Taruto was here.

They were carved in messy text, and they were right there in front of her!

She breathed, consuming confidence.

She stared at it . . .

Taruto was here.

And stared . . .

Taruto was here

And stared . . .

Taruto was here

She knew what she had to do.

"You should try it sometime; it really is good to write stuff like that everywhere you go."

She swallowed a final time, storing strength. Then, without further thinking, she grabbed a sharp branch from the dirt. Her hands worked maladroitly and fast, drenched with sweat.

"You should try it sometime; it really is good to write stuff like that everywhere you go."

She dug furiously into the wood.

"You should try it sometime; it really is good to write stuff like that everywhere you go."

She knew what she had to do.

"Gotta love my phrase . . ."

It was something she should have done egos before. To release pain . . .

"Gotta love my phrase . . ."

She bit her tongue. The letters she created were ugly and uneven, but she didn't care.

"Gotta love my phrase . . ."

She scraped one last piece of timber off.

Taruto AnD PUrin were here.