Improper rescue


Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew


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He sat in the middle of the café, scribbling in his notebook furiously. His legs set crossed at the ankles and drops of perspiration were rolling down his collar in steady beats. Every once in a while, he scratched his head, plainly peeved.

It was completely deserted on the bottom floor of the luminous cake shop. Everyone had gotten upstairs to tackle the last bundles of work left on schedule. Downstairs, Taruto was rushing to complete what was left of his homework assignment. It was near to closing time and he intended to finish his English project before the tag hanging on the doorknob labeled 'closed'.

He exhaled noisily, snatching greedily from the fresh atmosphere. Of course, the only reason he was stuck here right now instead of researching at the library where there were oodles of useful researching materials and check-out items to borrow was because of his partner.

It would have been quicker if she'd helped. Needless to say, he'd have finished his report ages ago.

He hissed exasperatedly.

Sometimes, the blonde was just downright discouraging. It only took her long enough to lifted a finger before she twisted his brain inside-out. Not to mention how easily she was able to forced Taruto into doing the writing while she earned her pay.

" . . . Let's try . . .," Taruto mused, pondering over his smarts. ". . . They . . . they require consistent supervision and mental stimulation and dislike receiving little attention." He stopped. "Ah, wait, that's no good . . . uh . . . If not given the correct amount of care, bored monkeys can become overly critical and would go as far as tossing their own feces . . .? No, no, no, umm . . . monkeys cannot be parted from their owners for long because . . . uh, because . . . due to the fact that . . . uh . . . ARRRGH!" Having backfired on his educated constructed sentences, he burst into a rampage. Stomping his foot impertinently, he erased what he printed and began over.

Glancing at the clock, a new piece of knowledge flew to his head.

7:25 pm.

Great, just great, he thought bitterly.

How in the world could he finalize all his uncompleted portions of the task in a mere five minutes? Well, I certainly am not going to stay up late until three again, he affirmed, recalling the last time he patched a partnership with Purin. In the previous disaster, the girl had been so busy filling in her afternoon shifts that he had to create the science-related essay all by himself. He'd ended up skipping half a night doing it! No way was he traveling over that stream over.

From one of the private rooms upstairs, a squeaky voice could be perceptible, "ICHIGO-SAN, WATCH YOUR FOOT!"

He recognized Purin's voice immediately.

"YIKES, PURIN, DO SOMETHING!" the shrill tone of the red haired girl sounded. "PLEASE! STOP IT!"

More cries reached where Taruto was seated. He raised an eyebrow.

Don't tell me, the pipe's leaking again.

He wrinkled his nose. Well, whatever it is, it's none of my concern. He stirred back to his concentrations. (Or tried to)

"DON'T WORRY, I'LL KILL IT!"

A rattle of plates and platter of footsteps . . .

Then, out emerged Purin, holding numerous dishes with frozen desserts atop; one leg posing on the stair rail.

"Oh, hello Tar-Tar, how's that report coming along?" she chirped.

He jerked up, pissed. Oh, fantastic...

"Good, I'm sure we'll obtain an A," Purin shouted, disregarding his expression. "I need to get a broom to sw—AHHHHHH!"

Purin never get to finish her explanation. The next thing Taruto knew, she was sliding down the pink rail, straight at the windows.

His eyes enlarged in awe. The sight caused him to release his objects, letting them to fall unnoticeably from his palms.

Purin screamed in horror. She waved her arms frantically, begging for mercy.

Quickly, (and surprisingly) the brown haired boy sprung to life. He dove at her, shirt bulging from behind. Grunting, he fulfilled softening her fall using two hands and one knee. The strategy might have been thriving, but because Purin was carrying so many things at once, it made the load on Taruto's arms MUCH heavier. This resulted in a CRASH as the two collided with the wall. The impact nodded Taruto silly. He groaned, head throbbing with pain. It took him a full minute to realize what kind of position he was currently in. No sooner it was clear, he opened his mouth.

He was on "TOP". (Imagine the position any way you desired)

He tinted rapidly, staring straight into the eyes of a red faced Purin. For once, she appeared to have understood just how inappropriate some situations could be. This was one of them.

The two figures stayed in their "pose," not daring to move a single muscle. Each waited for the other to creak. Finally, a holler from upstairs rocked their engines. It was obvious they should get out of this mess as soon as possible. Taruto felt the blood rushed to his head. He would die if anyone caught him doing something this "queer" to the one he claimed he hated. He'd never get out of it alive!

Somehow, without uttering a word, Taruto and Purin managed to "undo" their position, just as Ichigo. Minto, Retasu, and Zakuro entered the scene. However, despite their success at veiling everything that had previously made an occurrence, their blushes still remained exposed.

"Hey, Purin, I took cared of the rat thing," Retasu informed.

"Purin . . . Taruto . . . what just happened between you two?" Minto demanded, seeing their beet-red faces.

Both gaped at one another.

"Oh, umm . . . nothing, nothing at all," they replied in unison. "Nothing."

Unfortunately, the overly scarlet color gave off too much suspicion. It wasn't long before the four elder teens pictured wrong ideas.

Retasu gasped, dropping her equipments.

"You didn't!"

Ichigo's eyes widened. "You guys are lying! Tart, you sneaky little midget! What did you do to her?" she cried, traumatized. Zakuro looked shocked as well.

"But we're telling the truth!" the flushed couple exclaimed.

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Apple: Thank-you for reading!