Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew
-Set seven years after the series-
He glided from his daydreams to the frame beside him. "Hmm . . .?"
Purin browsed her palm, brown eyes boring at the ever so silky skin.
"Do you still . . . remember?" she murmured. There was a gesture of regard on her lips as she talked.
Taruto paid no mind to the wavering query. Nonetheless, he acknowledged it in a drifty voice.
"Do you still recall our . . ." she contemplated her incoming word wisely. ". . . Colors?"
The final word rolled off her tongue like unguarded snow.
Taruto mimicked the typical gum chewing motion in his mouth, making an effort to neglect the strangeness of the utterance. But apparently, he had no luck.
His mind fully discombobulated, he reiterated, "Colors?"
Purin remained disillusioned and embittered by the fascinating view of her bare palm. "The colors, Tar-Tar-kun, our colors . . . I can feel it right this moment ..."
A sorrowful glint intersected her eyes. And she sighed, hugging her knees to her chest with her feet flat on the wooden ground of her front porch. Her movements were mechanical, but it was the dazed sort of mechanical. Sometime during the short period of stargazing with Taruto, her inner thoughts had stubbornly united to close her from the scenery of the beautiful, lustrous stars. Instead, they concentrated her in on her countless peripatetic emotions.
Taruto considered this momentarily.
Having successfully cleared the hazy mist of inattentiveness rotating in his brain, he focused on the important picture. Had he ignored her, it'd probably just turn chaotic.
Taruto toyed with Purin's words, at the time being terribly confused about her motives in terms of conversation.
Alas, a clip from seven years ago conclusively linked with the boundary between his wits, and his smarts elegantly landed.
"Oh . . . the five mews?" he suggested warmly.
A protracted exhale accredited him. " . . . Yes. ."
The blond fluttered dizzily. "You know, I still remember those fun afternoons when you guys would chuck out your monsters and watch us fight them. I had so much fun back then. You three were the ones who helped me absorbed some spice in my life."
Taruto frowned. "That's fine and everything, Purin, but . . . uh . . . why have you chose bringing this up right now?"
The former monkey-infused female smiled. "Just passing memories is all. And . . . I still haven't quite accepted the fact that I've lost my powers."
The brunette grinned. "But you have. Besides, it's much more hassle-free knowing I have authority over you. That way, you won't have anything to fight back with and I'll always be able to ensure I'll win."
"Are you positive?" Purin retorted, her spirits lifting ever so slightly. "In spite of everything, I am a master at the "arts". In fact, I defeated you so badly that time with my unaided—"
The female blew out a minor giggle. She never got tired of Taruto's violent rejections.
"But seriously, do you still remember . . . our colors?" Purin questioned.
"You ask the oddest things," Taruto remarked. "But, nevertheless . . . there was . . . pink. Yeah, that's one color."
"Right," Purin said appreciatively. "Ichigo. You two had that "old hag" and "midget" thing going on for as long as I can remember."
"Charmed," Taruto said contemptuously. "But too bad. I'm tall now. I've had the largest growth spurt in the world which solemnly proved her wrong. In addition that old hag who is REALLY an old hag now, has grown to be old just like I said."
"I'm glad now that I was younger than all my other collaborators in the olden days. After your rather rude comment, I wouldn't want you calling ME a hag, now would I?" she gently poked him in the arm.
He smirked. "Maybe YOU wouldn't."
Purin's lips curled to some extent.
"Then there's Retasu," the sixteen year old resumed, filling up the "puzzle". "Green . . . she was always a nice freak."
"And a neat freak," the youngest alien added. "And a goody-two-shoes. A modest freak as well."
"Wow, Taru-kun, if you can be that impolite to poor, perfect Retasu, I doubt you'll be any nicer to our blue companion."
"So true, so true. Minto Aizawa . . . she was . . . she was . . ." he paused briefly, his forehead highlighting various wrinkles of absentmindedness. It wasn't long before impatience overwhelmed him. "Anyhow, you know I've never really known much about that girl besides the fact that she fights around in an inappropriately short skirt," he said, quickly amalgamating his flaw with an innocent excuse.
Purin shot him a look of condemnation.
"Always so tactless, are we?" she pressed. "Minto was actually comparatively kind once you get to know her better. I was one of those "few" who learned she was, deep down, really kind."
"The hard way?" Taruto asked hopefully, pushing his luck, hoping he'd earn SOME comebacks from his lack of comprehension on the mews.
Purin shook her head. "Hardly."
"Well, well, on we go then. The purple one. We obviously don't know anything about her. This time, even you have to confess," he confronted, shaping his arms into Vs.
Purin flipped over her channels of knowledge punctually, only to find them empty. "Not really I guess . . . But I have a strong feeling she's just like Minto; hard core on the outside and soft on the inside."
"A feeling, huh? But no testimony!"
"You are so pessimistic."
"Of course I am! It's what keeps the balance between us. Otherwise, I'd never have returned to Earth."
Purin folded her hands shyly on her knees. "I'm just glad you got over your coyness," she commented genially. "I don't know what I'd have done if you continued getting so flustered."
"It is not called "flustered"!" he proclaimed. "The correct phrase would be "aggravated. And boy was I glad you stopped saying "na no da"."
Unfortunately, Purin didn't correspond with his joke.
Her expression suddenly turned gloomy again and the half moon shape on her lips changed to that of a ruler. Something obviously triggered her cheerless button. And the something could easily be assumed as another reminder in Taruto's words of her past precious encounters.
Somehow, something felt not exactly right. What was this feeling she was experiencing? Was it pain? Dissatisfaction? Sorrow?
What was worse, as she found herself musing was the abrupt change in motion. Had I really been that melancholic . . . and didn't even recognize . . .?
The absence of cohesive thoughts flickered feebly within her head.
I . . .
I am sad . . .
She pulled up the lengthy velvet yellow sleeves of her nightgown and examined her arms.
Only . . . why was it that the loss was bothering her so much? Why in particular?
After seven years . . .?
Her stare punctured in deeper.
These very arms were once gifted with magic and trust, her judgment indicated.
The joy and freedom of being able to protect and be protected—it had all been right here.
But now . . .
Gone . . .
"Taru-kun," she said, switching the subject temporarily. "Is it normal for someone to feel empty or sad over losing their . . . let's say . . . special powers?"
He squinted, seeking a suitable reply.
"Yeah, it could happen."
"And what if you lost your friends too? A very special four you used to communicate with. But after let's say, an adventure, they all went on with their lives and you hardly see them anymore? Would you be sad realizing your memories are losing . . . existence?"
He folded his arms in a thoughtful manner. "Certainly."
"Me too," Purin sighed. "I'd feel sad too . . . very . . ."
"However . . ." Taruto bought up firmly. "That's what's supposed to happen. This is the part when you try to grab on to anything that's left as a . . . ya know, as a souvenir! Yeah, that's right, a souvenir!"
"It still would be terrible," Purin announced, aware of the many beings that would take suspicion if she lower her voice to a stage lower of a decibel.
The dejected feeling opted to stay within her heart.
Purin caught herself half-hoping she still possessed her monkey abilities. At least then, she'd have something back from the loss.
If only Ichigo and the others hadn't left their lives in Tokyo behind.
Then perhaps . . . they could still continue sharing the old days . . .
She glanced up.
"Remember the yellow?" Taruto asked promptly. His vocals were clearly noting her grief. "Let me tell you something. Out of all the colors, there's one I really appreciated. Not because it's my favorite or anything but it changed my life and showed a new side to me. That's why . . ."
For minute there, a bit of his old bashfulness from their earlier years together returned and the familiar rush of blood drenched his smooth cheeks.
"That color is you," he stated quickly, edgy. "But right now you're acting like you're blue, not yellow. So let me tell you something else, I never like it when you're a different color. Besides, regardless of you losing your powers, plus your friends, you still have . . ." he tinted. "Me."
She wet her dry tongue, digesting the words.
"You . . . you lost something also . . . but there are still traces of it left," she mentioned emotionlessly.
"What is it?"
"Your . . ." she paused. "Shyness."
His eyebrows knitted together to bring forth tight, grim features.
"I-I told, you! It's not shyness it's-- Ohhh, forget it! J-just cheer up already! You know how much I dislike it when you get all down in the dumps. You sure you're not bringing this up after seven years to make a fool out of me?" he charged.
"No . . . it's called flustered," Purin said, taking note of his shaky dialogue exchange and discounting his protests in the process.
Since the chance of Taruto saying such kind things were below ten percent, one fourth of the smile prior returned to her mouth.
"Right, I guess I still have one thing left from that fight over Earth. And he is sitting right next to me."
Apple-chan: I've always wanted to write a story with the title "Primary Colors". After pacing around the house for about two hours and messing with my pencil at least a hundred times, I finished. Now I wonder if it was worth it. (-' '-) (shrinks)