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Kame Island Romance

By koinekid

1. The Article

Part 1

The magazine was an impulse buy as Eighteen did the weekly grocery shopping—her preferred chore as a member of the Kame Household since it combined her favorite activity with the ability, when deviating from Oolong's prepared shopping list, to decide what she and her roommates ate for dinner. The magazine's glossy cover boasted an article on twenty-five activities for budget-minded couples.

She thumbed through the pages as the clerk rang up her purchases. A throat clearing reminded her the magazine needed to be scanned as well. The annoyance in the clerk's face had Eighteen considering how easy it would have been to push the cart out of the store without paying and flip off anyone who tried to stop her. Old habits and all.

Instead, she angled the magazine so its UPC label was visible, forcing the clerk to resort to her handheld scanner: Male clerks usually did so without complaint, but the female ones gave her attitude.

The clerk announced the total, and Eighteen handed over Roshi's credit card. She stuffed the receipt into one of the bags and reluctantly did the same with the magazine before retrieving a capsule from her pocket. A group of bag boys groaned their disappointment at not being permitted to help the beautiful blonde with her bags.

Eighteen rolled her eyes. Did they think she would fall madly in love with the one who pushed her cart for her?

She returned the full capsule to the pocket of her denim vest and snapped it shut before walking outside. At a suitable distance from the store—for some reason, her new friends insisted they all hide their powers from ordinary people—she took to the sky.

The old perv would give her an earful about charging the magazine to his credit card when she got home. "That card is to be used for essentials only," he would exclaim, though the genuine source of his upset would be her continued refusal to pick up his pornography when she did her shopping.

Roshi's yelling amused her. True, she could roast him alive at a whim, but they both knew she wouldn't. And the fact that he was willing to yell meant he considered her part of the family. It was a welcome change from his and Oolong's cowering after she first accepted Krillin's invitation to move in.

Krillin. The mere thought of the little man made her smile. After less than a year on the island, she could no longer imagine life without him. He was the first of his friends to treat her as a person rather than a machine, and when she was with him, sometimes—just for an instant—she forgot she was a cyborg and felt almost normal.

He was a true friend, though lately, the feelings she harbored for him went beyond friendship. But had she arrived at those feelings too late? Long ago, she overheard Krillin's friends tease him about having a crush on her. Embarrassed, she loudly proclaimed in front of everyone that his actions that day hadn't won her heart. Perhaps time or her own big mouth had soured him on the prospect of a romance with her. She hoped not.

The island with its small pink house came into view, and she spotted Krillin out front, clearing the beach of debris washed up during a recent storm. He took aim at a nearby piece of driftwood, and she startled him by blasting it first.

Though taken aback, he grinned as she lighted beside him.

"Hey, Shorty."

"Hi, Blondie."

Krillin showed spirit today. Normally, he didn't tease back.

"Are the others here?" she asked.

"Nope, just you and me. And Turtle, of course."

The ancient sea turtle that frequented the island lay near the front door. She nodded to it absently. If the old man were gone, he wouldn't know about the magazine. Good, one less headache. She turned back to Krillin. "Help me put away the groceries?"

"Okay."

When he cleared a spot on the kitchen counter, Eighteen triggered the capsule's release, causing the bags to appear. They worked slowly, chatting all the while. It would be more efficient to divide the dry goods from the refrigerated and work them separately, but Krillin's way of choosing a bag at random and handing her an item at a time led to more interaction and more than a few "accidental" touches. She liked Krillin's way.

Still, it would be best to unpack the bag containing the magazine herself. The last thing she needed was for him to discover it and start asking questions before she was ready. Now, which bag was it?

"Hey, you bought my favorite cereal."

She shrugged. "It was your turn."

"That's what you said last time."

"I won't tell if you…" The bag with the cereal—that's where she stashed the magazine. "Krillin, why don't you let me—?"

"Twenty-five activities for budget-minded couples?" He raised his eyes from the glossy cover and looked at her curiously.

Eighteen could feel the blush rising in her cheeks as she snatched the magazine away. "I, uh—"

The front door opened with a bang, diverting Krillin's attention. Into the house stumbled two stacks of magazines with legs—Roshi and Oolong laden down with armfuls of what Eighteen assumed to be the pornography they nagged her to buy. She used the distraction to slip from the room unnoticed while Krillin took pity and asked just what their roommates thought they were doing.

"Someone forgot to bring capsules," Oolong growled.

Roshi's protest—"We wouldn't need to worry about capsules if Krillin's girlfriend picked up the magazines for us"—was the last thing she heard before reaching the top of the stairs.

Krillin's girlfriend, eh? If they called her that behind her back, there could be hope for a romance yet, and somewhere in this article just might be the key to igniting it. She tapped the magazine against her chin. Time to start reading.

"Do you think Eighteen is seeing anyone? She has to be, right? Why else would she want to read about couples' activities?"

Yamcha sighed. Every Wednesday that his baseball team wasn't on the road, he and Krillin sparred on one of the islands near Kame House. Ordinarily, it was the highlight of Yamcha's week, but today his friend couldn't stop talking about that magazine.

"Maybe she bought it for a different article. Magazines generally print more than one an issue."

"Then, why did she blush when I read the title of that article?"

"You got me there." Yamcha readied an energy blast and sent it toward Krillin, who easily swatted it aside, much to the taller man's annoyance. "Eighteen is a beautiful woman. Did you expect her to stay celibate forever?"

"No," Krillin said, "but I figured she would move out before she started dating. Then I wouldn't have to see her with another guy."

"Do you want her to leave?"

"Of course not. The island is her home. I just…" Krillin kicked at the dirt. "How would you feel seeing someone else dating the woman you—oh, right. Sorry, bro. I didn't think—"

"I'm way over that, Krillin." That wasn't strictly true, but Yamcha thought it best to limit their conversation to one lovesick martial artist at a time. It might be too late for him and Bulma, but Krillin still had a shot with Eighteen. I won't let you go through the same thing I did, even if I have to knock some sense into you to stop it.

Yamcha surged forward and threw a barrage of punches that knocked the distracted Krillin onto his back, then held out a hand to pull him to his feet.

"She isn't your girl, you know."

Krillin sighed. "Yeah, guess I'm just dreaming, huh?"

"No, you aren't. Eighteen isn't with you because you haven't made a move. So, what if she is dating another guy? I bet if you asked her out, she'd drop him in a heartbeat."

Krillin brightened. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. After everything you've done for her—"

"She doesn't owe me anything, Yamcha."

"I know, I know. I just mean that she already knows you're a great guy. Even if she doesn't think of you romantically now, telling her how you feel will plant the seed. And—worst case scenario—if she doesn't want to go out with you, at least she'll keep the guys she dates away from the island. She's your friend if nothing else and wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Shouldn't she already know how I feel? She was at the Lookout when I told you guys I like her."

"Eighteen isn't exactly normal."

Anger flashed in Krillin's eyes, and Yamcha felt a flicker of fear. "T-take it easy. I'm not belittling her for being a cyborg. But you said she doesn't remember anything from before Gero modified her, right?"

Krillin nodded. "Not much, anyway."

"That means he wiped out whatever dating experience she had. Chances are, she doesn't even know how to interpret the signals you're sending her."

"You think Eighteen can't tell I'm interested."

"Yeah, bro, you need to spell it out for her. If you treated most girls half as well as you do Eighteen, they'd know. But ten-to-one she's oblivious. Plus, she's pretty, and guys will fall all over themselves to help a pretty girl. Heck, I'm tempted to hold doors for her myself."

"She'd break your hand if you tried."

Yamcha grinned. "But not yours."

A smile tugged at the corners of Krillin's mouth. "No, not mine."

"You're in, man. Ask her out. Look, there's this physical therapist I've been flirting with. We could double."

Krillin looked as if he were about to panic.

Yamcha held up his hands. "Okay, okay. That's too much. How about a group thing?"

"Maybe." Krillin nodded again. "But Eighteen and I have gone to parties together. How's this any different?"

"We'll make it more intimate and invite only couples."

"That…could work."

"Good, let's head back, and you can ask her now. What? It isn't as if you'll give me a decent workout until you get this sorted anyway."

After escaping the kitchen, Eighteen locked herself in her room and worked through the article with a red marker, pausing only to watch from her window as Yamcha arrived to pick up Krillin for their weekly training session. Why didn't Krillin spar with her? She'd certainly make a better partner than some weakling who gave up martial arts to play games for a living. Probably because you never asked, came her mind's response. True, she conceded.

A box fan propped in her window circulated a cool breeze through the room. It was no hotter than usual indoors, but the noise drowned out the sound of her roommates stomping around on the first floor. Eighteen sat at her desk and twirled the marker between her fingers as she read:

Shared interests lead to couples spending more time together and engaging in livelier conversations. And the best part is that it doesn't take a boatload of zeni for you and your sweetheart to have a good time. Here are 25 activities that won't break the bank!

That sounded good to her. She could barely scrape together a pocket full of zeni, much less a boatload. Unless she absconded with the old man's credit card or returned to a life of crime, whatever activity she chose would need to be cheap. Or better yet, free.

The article's first suggestion—gardening—was out. They lived on a tropical island with limited real estate, so unless they wanted to plant another palm tree…

Her marker swept down and crossed out the illustrated flower next to the suggestion.

Join a local sports team. Interacting with new people…no. The point was to grow closer to Krillin, not make nice with strangers. She crossed through that one as well.

Photography…much too expensive unless she shoplifted a camera. But the thought of Krillin's disappointment squelched the idea. She desired his respect as much as his affection, and though she might joke about it, she had changed. Whatever drove her and her brother to terrorize society in the past was no longer a part of her. She started to mark another X but paused.

Pictures of Krillin's friends decorated the walls of his room. Eighteen even allowed him to add a few snapshots of her to his collection, pretending to be annoyed as he took them. A few more on display—ones where she actually smiled—would be gratifying. Krillin borrowed the camera he used to take those photos. They could always ask to borrow it again. She circled the suggestion and drew a question mark next to it.

Walk or hike. Again, limited real estate. Though she had spied a few decent parks while flying over nearby islands.

Stargazing. Lying on the roof and watching the stars—that could work. It would be a good time to talk, and if she worked up the courage, to lay her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, wait for it to steady, and then raise her mouth for a kiss. Was it getting hot in here?

PJ Day. Spend the entire day in your pajamas. Eighteen twisted her face. How was that an activity?

Camping. A sleeping bag for two. Hmm…

Have sex! Her cheeks burned. Did they need to be so blunt? Well, eventually, if it worked out between them, she'd love to. A memory surfaced of the last time she saw Krillin shirtless in the surf. Definitely love to. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned the fan to high. It was getting hot.

With her marker poised to strike, she read the next suggestion. Her hand stayed put. That…actually sounded perfect. If Krillin went for it.

Through the window, she could see him, and Yamcha, approaching over the horizon. Closing the magazine and capping the marker, she shut them in her desk drawer and hurried downstairs. Best ask now before she lost her nerve.

Arms crossed over her chest, she watched Krillin land, her instinct to blurt out what she had in mind undermined by the other man's presence. Krillin stammered out a greeting. For some reason, he seemed as nervous as she. Was she putting out a bad vibe?

No matter; it was now or never. "I want—"

"Eighteen—"

They shared a smile over interrupting one another.

"You first," he said.

"I want to ask you something."

"A-all right."

She cut her eyes at Yamcha, her stare menacing.

He rubbed the back of his head and laughed nervously. "Guess I'll let the two of you talk." To Krillin, he said, "Does Friday night work for you?"

"I'll call when I know for certain."

"Friday?" Eighteen questioned once Yamcha flew away. That was the day she intended to ask Krillin out. "What's Friday?"

Krillin took a deep breath. "That's what I wanted to ask you about. But you were—"

"No, go ahead."

"Thanks. Um, Yamcha and I are planning to host a game night—cards, board games, that sort of thing—and invite a few people over. Our group used to hold them years ago but sort of fell out of the habit."

"You want to hold it here—on Friday?" Great, there went her plans. Though it wasn't Krillin's intent, she couldn't help feeling rejected. It was a new feeling, and she didn't like it. "I guess I can find somewhere to spend the evening."

"No!" he shouted, then added more quietly, "No, we—I want you to—if you don't mind—to take part. Be my partner, actually. We usually play teams, and well…"

"Partner, huh?" Was Krillin asking her on a date? It wasn't exactly dinner and a movie, or even the activity she planned. But a low-key evening with a group they already knew could help ease them into a dating relationship. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"Of course, if you're not interested or if you already have plans—" Krillin's brows furrowed.

"Yes."

"Yes, you have plans?"

"Yes, I'll be your partner." She fought and failed to keep the silly grin off her face. "Who knows? It could be fun."

Krillin looked relieved, though he averted his gaze and blushed when their eyes met. Had asking her out been that intimidating?

"Oh," he said suddenly. "You wanted to ask me something."

"It can wait." Eighteen beckoned him to accompany her into the house, bumping his shoulder playfully as he came alongside her. "So, partner, what games are we playing?"

In response, Krillin only smiled.

TBC

Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.

Any suggestions about what games should be at game night? I'm looking for games that will frustrate and annoy the players.

Note: Activity suggestions for this chapter were taken from the blog article:

www dot fatwallet dot com /blog/25-hobbies-and-activities-for-budget-minded-couples