It's not real
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters.
A little one shot between Eighteen and Piccolo on Master Roshi's Island
He looked at her wide eyes, steely and particularly blue. Striking really. She was staring, cold gaze penetrating the night which had just settled around them on the beach. He wondered what she was thinking, if she had any recollection of what she had left behind, who her family was, where she lived. Her real name. Or maybe she wasn't thinking. Do machines idly think?
Her arms were crossed and she stood with an arrogance he had come to associate only with her. Not the kind Vegeta radiated, or even the kind he seemed to possess. He didn't really know if he could pinpoint exactly what it was, or what you would call it. The ocean carried a chill with it as it moved back and forth and he could see it swimming through her light hair. She didn't move as her striped shirt wavered as well, torn and dirty.
Laughter caught his attention and shadows played on the beach in front of the lit window, reaching her faded jeans. He was also stood with crossed arms, leaning against a small tree, it made him feel ridiculously predictable. Only a short time ago she had been the enemy, her swift power had been the bane of their lives. He scoffed at how easily the group of humans had accepted her into their brood, welcomed with open arms in fact. They had done the same with him and he had scoffed then too. Dark eyes watched as she turned her head towards him, her piercing eyes questioning.
"What are you looking at?"
Her voice was cultured. He figured that she was educated, she had gone to school.
"Nothing"
She made some sort of non committal noise before she replied.
"Then look at nothing in another direction"
He felt strangely compelled to abide, it irritated him. He was glad to know that his ego wouldn't let him.
"I'll do as I please"
Her face was expressionless.
"Whatever"
Had he won? If it was a victory, it was a hollow one. She turned away from him, shifting slightly to lean on one leg. Being artificial, he wondered if she did it out of habit rather than actual discomfort. After a minute or so passed he realised he was thirsty. His mouth felt dry and when he moved his tongue, it didn't move smoothly. He pushed off the tree and watched her as he walked, his sharp ears hearing the sand shift beneath his feet. Her hair continued to sway in the breeze and as the shadows danced on the beach, in the dark, he wondered if she felt exactly like that. A shadow, existing without definition, chasing it's owner. He spared one last glance as he entered the small house, not really caring as she turned to look at him.
As she returned his gaze, he suddenly felt like he was abandoning her to the loneliness she was seeking. He scowled internally, not sure why it bothered him. He nodded, needing to break the moment.
She nodded back, her hair falling in her eyes as she turned back towards the ocean. An uneasiness had crept up on him as he opened the door and as he walked through he hesitated, leaving it ajar. Hopefully, she would know that this door was open, and that she did have somewhere to go.
Let me know what you think!
