A ki blast crashed into the ocean, splitting the waters in half before it engulfed itself. The mist of some of the water kissed Krillin's skin. Sweat dripped from his hair into his eyes, and he blinked, feeling them sting. He sat on the ground for a moment, his arms supporting him as he leaned back, taking a quick break.

An hour or so had passed. He didn't realize how out of shape he was. What should have been a simple training session turned into a battle of will and determination. So little had happened since Cell's passing there didn't seem to be a need to train anymore. This session seemed to prove otherwise.

He stood up and wiped his forehead with his shirt, which was already soaked with sweat itself. It did little good. He shrugged, and took off back for Kame's House, hoping Eighteen would be awake.

He walked through the front door to an empty kitchen and living room. Master Roshi still was not back from the city where he and Oolong were doing God knows what. He glanced at the clock that sat in the kitchen. It read 4:30, almost dinner time.

Krillin walked up the stairs, bringing his shirt over his head. He headed into his room, tossing the shirt in the circular laundry basket in the corner near his closet. Grabbing some fresh clothes, he made his way to the bathroom. He placed his ear on the door. He heard nothing.

As he raised his hand to knock the door quickly swung open to reveal Eighteen wrapped in a towel. Krillin stepped back at the sudden movement, and then realized the sight in front of him.

"Eighteen! I'm so sorry, I was just about to knock," he said in one breath, shielding his eyes with his other arm, "I'm happy you decided to take a shower, I mean, not in a creepy way, of course, but it's great you're making yourself at home!"

He continued to step backwards until his back collided with the wall.

'Perfect timing, Krillin. Just perfect.' He braced himself for the wrath of Eighteen, but nothing happened. He could hear Eighteen take steps towards him, and remained perfectly still, ready to be sent flying through the wall Instead, he felt a tug at the clean shirt he was holding.

"I don't have any spare clothes," she said.

"Oh! Right! Well, this shirt may be a bit small for you, but let me rummage through my room to find something suitable." He felt her let go of the shirt, and kept his eyes protected until he heard the 'click' of the bathroom door. How tempting it was to sink to the floor in embarrassment.

Eventually, Krillin was able to find a large men's shirt that could cover Eighteen, and some gym shorts, which weren't the most flattering, but would do.

"But I don't have a bra or any women's underwear…," he muttered. He prayed she'd be alright with these two simple pieces.

He stopped in front of the bathroom door, and knocked.

"Eighteen, I've got a shirt and gym shorts, so I hope these will do for now. I'm just going to leave them outside the door, and you can get them whenever you're ready." He did as he said, and left to go back into his room. Right as he entered, he heard Eighteen open the door, and he smiled as he walked inside. A shower could wait.

Eighteen changed into the spare clothes. They certainly weren't extravagant, but served their purpose. The t-shirt was loose, and the gym shorts came to her mid-thigh. She gathered the pile of her dirty clothes that were scattered over the floor, and brought them back to her room.

As she walked down the hallway, she noticed the door to Krillin's room was ajar, and peered in. It was empty, and she figured he must have been downstairs.

'Perhaps it would be best to join him…'

The skillet on the stove popped and crackled as Krillin added some fresh vegetables to it, the olive oil becoming agitated in response. In another pot, Krillin was cooking some pasta, the water on the verge of boiling as the smallest of bubbles rose to the surface. He figured a couple more minutes would do, and then he'd be able to drain it.

Some pasta and vegetables seemed appropriate for dinner; simple and easy to make, but he was mostly unsure of what Eighteen liked to eat. Would she eat? Does she need to eat? He stirred the vegetables in the skillet as he pondered his thoughts.

Immersed in the cooking, he didn't hear Eighteen take a seat at the small dining room table behind him. She tapped her fingers rhythmically on the fake wooden surface, her chin resting in her other hand. Her eyes took in the view of Krillin cooking. He re a red tank top that bared the muscles in his shoulders and arms. The would twitch and change as he worked, something she found... into a red tank top that bared the muscles in his shoulders and arms. She could see the way the muscles moved as he stirred the wooden spoon in a circular motion. It was...an attractive sight to behold.

Eighteen blinked a few times, confused at herself, and turned her attention to the screen door where she could see the ocean swell up and down. The sky was a mixture of pink, red and yellow, a sign the sun would be setting soon. She peeked over at Krillin, who was still oblivious to her, and so she cleared her throat. He jumped a bit, mishandling the wooden spoon as it tumbled to the floor.

"H-Hi, Eighteen! Wow, scared twice in one day, ha," he said as he reached down to pick up the spoon. He examined it before washing it in the sink to re-use it again, and placed it back in the skillet.

"I'm, um, sorry for catching you at a bad time in the bathroom. I had finished training and was in need of a good shower, but had terrible timing." Eighteen watched as he rubbed the back of his head...again.

'A nervous tick.'

"Apology accepted. Thank you for the clothes," Eighteen replied. And she was grateful. Krillin gave a smile and nodded.

"You're welcome!" The water of pasta began to boil rapidly, and he rushed over to grab the pot, draining it in the sink, steam rising up to cover his face. He coughed to make some breathing room.

"I'm unsure of what you like eat, so I thought some pasta and veggies would suffice, but if you don't like it please let me know. I'd be happy to try and make something else for you." He prepared their plates and settled one in front of Eighteen. Her nostrils became filled with the potent aroma of spices, and she could feel the heat radiating from her plate, strangely warming her. It looked delicious.

'No one has ever prepared a meal for me.'

They ate in silence, the scrapping of the fork against the plates drifting between them. Krillin would glance up at her between a few bites, but she kept her face down, the curtains of her wet hair providing gentle cover.

'And yet she still looks beautiful,' he thought. Eighteen could sense his eyes on her, and she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face," she asked, her hand touching the skin near her mouth.

"Oh! No! You look great, I mean, I'm sorry, I was just thinking, and gosh, wow, I didn't realize how full I was. I'm just going to clean my plate up," he said as he made a bee-line for the sink, turning the water on to let it run over his messy plate. Eighteen's brows furrowed in annoyance, and continued to eat the rest of her dinner, keeping her eyes fastened on the short monk.

'Or is it ex-monk now?'

After dinner Eighteen walked out to the sand, burying her toes in the sand. The sky had changed drastically in a matter of minutes, and was now a vibrant orange-red. The sun was beginning its gradual descent for the horizon, and would soon bid adieu.

The afternoon nightmare stirred up hidden anger and emotions she had thought were long forgotten. The past hurt her, but the way it would not relinquish its hold on her made her teeth grit. It made no difference how hard she tried to remember what had happened. All she knew is she had lost a vital piece of her humanity, one that evaded her over and over and over again. There was no one who would understand her current predicament, no one except her twin brother, Seventeen.

She looked down at the sand, her feet tracing designs only to have them be blown away by the sea breeze. Two years. 730 days. She'd been keeping track in her mind, a simple way to keep from going insane over the boredom that followed her left and right. She'd search everywhere she could think, and had yet to find a single remnant of him; his stupid orange bandana, his dumb blue shoes, leftover bullets from his pistol. Nothing. It was as if she was a stone, continuously rolling down hill gathering no moss, no dirt, no grim, nothing, and that's all it would do; roll forever with no apparent end.

Such emotions and math could leave one breathless, defeated, alone, forgotten.

'Forgotten…' She brushed the sorry feelings aside, and went back inside. Tomorrow would have troubles of its own.

Krillin sat in the living room watching TV, occasionally peeking at the screen door to observe Eighteen. He had hoped she wasn't already regretting staying for the day; he'd tried to respect her space and make her feel comfortable by preparing dinner. Maybe even such an act was overwhelming.

The blaring of a commercial distracted Krillin. A man appeared in front of a store, blabbering about the latest sales taking place, his movements eccentric and forthright.

"Shopping...I can take her shopping tomorrow! Thank you, stupid man." Krillin grabbed the remote and switched the TV off. He heard the screen door slam, and saw Eighteen make her way to the stairs. It was now or never.

"Hey, Eighteen, how would you like to go shopping tomorrow? If you're not comfortable with that, that's totally fine, but I figured you'd be able to get some clothes and whatever else you need," Krillin offered. Eighteen's head turned, her eyes searching his face for...something.

"Sure" was her only reply, and continued the trek up the stairs.

'Better than nothing…,' Krillin thought.