-Battle of One-


Trunks' POV


He sat on the edge of the clearing his father had chosen for the sparring session today, a wide area away from any populated areas, to avoid any possible disturbances. As he'd suspected, Vegeta hadn't been thrilled to know that there would be a third party present. He hadn't raised an argument over Trunks accompanying them, but kept a very strong, very silent hostility, towards his son on the entire journey there. Fine. He knew how to deal with that.

He looked up to check on the progress of the battle before him. From what he'd seen of Kiori's strategy so far, he could tell she was primarily going for a defensive style. She waited for her opponent to come to her, and either parried his attack or evaded it, to then come back with an attack of her own. He could also tell that she was definitely putting more effort into this than their brief match a few days prior, but she wasn't as strong a fighter as his father had clearly been hoping for. She was a challenge, certainly, and he, personally, was impressed by the strength and stamina she displayed.

He watched as she used that strange teleportation technique of hers to appear immediately behind his father and drive her bent elbow into the center of his spine. He winced, imagining the pain from such a sharp blow. That was the main thing about her that kept her a challenge, despite the vast difference in physical strength between Vegeta and her. Her attacks were hard enough to hurt, but not enough to injure. His father might have light marks or bruises for the remainder of the day, but nothing that couldn't easily heal overnight. He couldn't tell whether she was hitting some kind of pressure point or just the more vulnerable areas of the body, but she was definitely aiming for the places where her quick blows could inflict the most damage possible.

She was doing surprisingly well considering the shocking fact that they had learned earlier that morning: she couldn't fly. Even Vegeta had been unable to conceal his surprise when she told him. What's more, she refused to be carried to the sparring site, instead insisting that the two of them go on and begin on their own, and she would arrive shortly after.

Which had given his father the perfect opportunity to take out his frustration about Trunks 'interfering in his fight', as he put it. Once they'd arrived at the clearing, he'd attacked him almost immediately.

"Father, what are you doing?" he'd shouted, flying back a few feet, still wincing from the sudden pain in his jaw.

"Fool, we're here to fight! A real opponent doesn't warn you before he attacks!" Vegeta retorted derisively, tensing up and raising his power level for the upcoming battle.

Before he could even move, Kiori appeared in a swirl of black smoke behind his father, swinging her foot to connect in a solid kick to the side of his neck. Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise and flew several yards through the air from the force of the blow before he gathered himself together and stopped, turning to glare at the girl, now calmly perched on a tree branch below. She had chosen to discard the flowing black garment she normally wore, now clad only in the armor-plated short dress she wore under the cloak. It was black with silver lining, reaching barely mid-thigh with a slit up to her hips. She wore the thin black shorts and tank top underneath, though, so she in no way sacrificed her modesty for better mobility.

"You had best explain yourself, girl!" his father snarled, clearly furious at being caught so off-guard.

She looked curiously up at him, cocking her head to one side as she so often did when considering something. "A real opponent doesn't warn you before she attacks." She said simply, a slight smile on her face.

They both stared at her for a moment before Trunks decided he was definitely starting to like this girl.

She'd gone on to explain that, at different points during the day, if Trunks would attack as she had, suddenly in the middle of their fight, that it would force Vegeta to not only maintain a constant state of awareness during sparring, but also to switch immediately between two different fighting styles. They'd tried this about three times so far, and the first two times had been visibly difficult for his father to change from Kiori's evasive style to the more direct form that Trunks was used to. But the third time, he had not only managed to block Trunk's attack, but had switched fluidly into battle with a different opponent. He had done just as well when Kiori had switched back in about ten minutes ago. Trunks had to admit, although the girl's methods were decidedly different from the typical Saiyan training he was used to, it couldn't be denied that they worked.

He looked up again to observe her fourth match of the day with his father.


Kiori's POV


Without pause he hit me again, and once more I allowed my body to fall from the force of the blow, hitting the ground rolling to absorb and utilize the momentum from the attack. I had to have preformed this move dozens of times today without any trouble at all. I got my feet under me and rose halfway, leaping easily to the side to gain a bit more distance between us. But when I landed from the jump, something in my leg seemed to give out, just for a moment, and I stumbled forward a step before I could catch myself again. It was a minor slip, occurring in less than a second, but I could tell by his sudden smirk that the Prince had noticed. In a burst of speed he came at me, not even as a blur, he simply appeared in front of me, throwing up his forearm to connect in a blunt blow just below my collarbone. I tumbled back, perhaps not as gracefully as I had before, but still in a smooth enough motion to absorb my fall. However, once I had flipped over, I couldn't get my legs to respond properly and resume my base position. Rather than landing solidly on both feet in a crouch, I fell heavily to one knee, one hand resting on my bent leg, the other planted firmly against the ground, and gasping in the air that had just been knocked from my lungs.

I stayed still a moment, only half my attention directed at my opponent, as I tried to determine precisely what was wrong with my body. I looked down at the arm supporting me, cursing myself when I saw it trembling. There was a thin layer of sweat on my face and arms, slick on my skin as a testament to my sudden weakness. Damnit. Of all times, why did this have to happen now? I knew I was built for quicker battles than I had engaged in today, but I hadn't thought that such sparring as we had done would be enough to cause me to shut down again. I could only assume that three matches were the most I could safely handle in one day. Although I was certain that Vegeta wouldn't be pleased to hear of this new discovery.

He didn't appreciate being ignored, either. I gasped sharply as a Ki blast struck the ground immediately in front of me, shock waves from the impact throwing me backwards once more. I managed to land on my feet and spring back in a more controlled leap than last time. He launched another at me in mid-air, hitting squarely on my stomach and forcing my body to spin in the air before I fell at last to the ground, this time hitting hard on my side and rolling to a stop a few feet away, legs curled halfway to my chest and with my back to my opponent. A new wave of heat washed over my body, whether from the blast or as another reaction to the stress my body was under, I couldn't tell. I struggled to catch my breath, knowing that if I rose again before I was ready I would only meet with the same result. So I stayed down.


Trunks' POV


When he first saw her stumble was when he got worried. She caught herself almost immediately to meet his father's next charge, but he still noticed. And he knew his father had, too. He rushed in to take full advantage of her moment of imbalance and when he hit her, she couldn't absorb the attack, as he had seen her do countless times that day. She landed hard, and he could see how the impact jarred her body. That was the first time she had actually hit the ground. All other times she had fallen into a roll or used the momentum to spring herself into some sort of flip into the air again, but she had never really had a hard contact with the ground. She didn't even seem to be focusing on the fight anymore. Vegeta slowly drifted up into the air, concentrating his Ki for an attack to get her attention again.

No. Trunks thought, almost pleadingly, staring up and hoping against hope that Vegeta would have sense enough to end the fight now. Father, don't do this.

When she fell again she didn't get up.

The Prince lowered himself down to the ground, looking scornfully across the clearing at his felled opponent.

"I should have known she wouldn't be a real challenge."

"Father, what are you saying? Can't you tell there's something wrong with her?" He shouted angrily, a small part of his fury directed at himself for thinking that his father would have changed at all.

"The only thing wrong with her is that she's too weak to continue."

"Is that all you ever think about? You're impossible!" He strode stormily past his father, determined not to let his words goad him into a fight. Right now he needed to be thinking about Kiori, not dwelling on his father's selfish arrogance.

Before he could reach her, she staggered to her feet, one hand holding her side.

From behind him, his father spoke again.

"So, she has some fight left in her after all."

He glared back angrily over his shoulder. "Would you just stop it already!" He turned forward and was surprised to see Kiori take two shaky steps back from him.

"What's wrong?"

She looked from him to his father, clearly pointing out the growing hostility between the two of them, and took another step back, slowly shaking her head.

"I will not cause this between you." She said weakly, taking a deep breath and visibly gathering herself before turning slightly and vanishing from the clearing, leaving only a few wisps of black smoke where she stood.


Kiori's POV


I appeared in my room at Capsul Corp. stumbling forward a few steps before I could get my feet solidly under me again. I knew it hadn't been wise to try the transportation in my current state, but I couldn't stand listening to them fighting. I hated being the source of an argument between anyone. Of course, it was all too likely they could be continuing their fight without me there, but I had more important things to worry about now.

I forced my legs to move, one shaky step at a time, and drew the curtains closed, leaving my room in a quiet dimness, as dark as it could be until the sun set. I collapsed in the center of my bed, curling up into a ball and wearily pulling the armor off over my head, letting it slide into a heap the floor. I looked blearily toward the half-open door and, with a slight mental push, closed it completely. Nothing I did at this point would affect how the rest of the night would turn out for me. Already I was enveloped in a hellish heat radiating from my skin, my body seeming twice as heavy as it should feel. Even if I'd felt like moving, I doubted I'd be able to. My body felt completely shut down, refusing any more attempts to exert it beyond its limits. I sighed and let my heavy eyes drift shut, surrendering myself to the only remedy available for my current condition.

The next thing I new, I was being woken by a small, persistent hand shaking my arm. I dragged my mind as far out my dreamless slumber as I could and slowly opened my eyes. The slightly blurry, but clearly concerned dark eyes of a Saiyan child peered at me over the edge of the bed. I dimly wondered why Gohan was in my room at this hour, since the darkness of my room indicated that a good deal of time had passed since I left the clearing.

"Kiori, what's wrong? You look sick." He said anxiously, appearing slightly calmer now that he'd managed to wake me.

I managed a tired smile before closing my eyes again.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

Even with my eyes closed, I could almost see how he fidgeted uncertainly for a moment by my bed, wanting to believe my words, but still clearly bothered by the state I was in.

"I'm going to go get someone." He said finally, followed by the muffled sound of his feet running out of the room.

I smiled to myself at his concern. Stubborn child.

A few minutes later, I heard the padding of feet entering my room again, and quiet voices I couldn't seem to understand.

I blearily opened my eyes again when a cool hand rested on my forehead. I didn't feel as feverish as I had before, but apparently I was still a bit warmer than I should be.

"Kiori."

Trunks' voice this time. Of course, his room would be closest.

I looked dully into his eyes, too tired to feel uneasy in doing so. He was crouched down beside my bed, looking intently at me to hold my attention.

"Has this happened to you before?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, his hand still resting on my head.

"Is there anything we can do?" he asked, just as calmly as before. I could tell he was trying to calm Gohan by not appearing worried himself.

I closed my eyes and thought a moment. Really the only remedy was to sleep, but I noticed that feeling something cool on my skin seemed to soothe me.

"Could you take me outside, please?"

He hesitated only a moment, then gently scooped me up into his arms, turning his head to ask something of Gohan. I didn't care to listen to their conversation, if they had one, as he carried me down the hall. I dozed off in the slight rocking motion of his walk, dimly aware of the cool night air surrounding me and lulling me into a dreamless sleep once more.


I realize this chapter wasn't written as directly from Kiori's POV as normal, but this was the only way I could think to write it and actually get something posted after all this time. Please review! My thanks to Mirai-Vegetto, Crecy, and Niquie, my main reviewers. But I'd like to hear some new voices, too, different opinions to the story. So please tell me what you think.