Peparia sat motionless in a dark room of stone and reinforced steel. This basement prison cell was meant for the worst criminals, a designation that Peparia didn't dispute.
Gone were the expensive clothes, jewelry and technology. Gone was the custom armor that her family had commissioned for her. And what replaced it was a drab gray top and pants. As for shoes, she didn't wear them; she was barefoot.
Peparia was a mess. She couldn't sleep, she barely ate. In fact, her food had to be laced with sedatives to force her to sleep.
Her mind was empty save for thoughts of her actions that night…days ago? Weeks? A couple months? Peparia didn't know. Time had no meaning now. The only things that had meaning is how her mistakes leading up to that night cost her the most important being in the world to her, and how being separated from her was torture.
She'd had legal advocates come to her cell many times, trying to get some defense out of her. But while Peparia answered questions truthfully, she offered no defense. She was prepared to die when her sentence was passed down. She didn't want to live in a world without Celes.
Eventually, Peparia was brought to a court room. She had been forced to shower, brush her teeth and hair, and groom as a Saiyan noble should, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered to her anymore, least of all her appearance.
The trial was a blur; the city's prosecution tried to paint her as incompetent, that her failure jeopardized the lives of the entire city, and that her actions to "save her daughter" shamed a child in a way he'd never recover from emotionally.
Peparia didn't dispute any of this. She knew they were right, that she didn't deserve to live. She didn't want to; she wanted to join her daughter in the afterlife, even if she were sent to hell; even hell would be better than going on living without her.
However, her defense advocate had plans to avoid that. This advocate was a cousin of Celes' father, and that their family shared the grief Peparia carried, though she knew that was a lie. The Chilli hadn't given birth to this girl, hadn't fed her, hadn't watched her grow, hadn't began her training in ki control, and hadn't loved Celes the way Peparia had.
But he was determined to make this work. He brought Peparia to the stand and asked her to answer some questions.
"Okay," Peparia said in monotone.
"Let's go back to that night," her advocate said. "You had just put Celes to bed with Arugu and sang Celes her favorite song to get her to sleep."
"Stop it," Peparia pleaded, still in monotone. She knew where this was headed, and she didn't want to relive it; it already tormented her.
"Once Celes was in bed, you heard the rumbling of the Great Ape, as it stomped to your home. You went out in a panic, trying to stop it before it could get to your house," the advocate said, continuing despite protest.
"Stop it," Peparia again pleased, still in monotone. The memories of that night beginning to bubble back in her mind.
"And despite repeated failure, you managed to cut off the Great Ape's tail, but only after he mortally wounded your daughter, a fact that you didn't learn for almost an hour after taking her to the hospital," the advocate said, still walking Peparia back through the vents of that night.
"Stop it," Peparia said, her emotions finally beginning to break through, sobbing.
"And when the doctor finally allowed you to see Celes, you saw her connected to those machines that were meant to keep her alive. You had to sing your daughter's bedtime song so she could pass peacefully…" her advocate said, before being cut off by Peparia.
"STOP IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTT!" Peparia shouted, her emotions exploding out from her. The grief and sorrow and rage at herself was overwhelming her, finally forcing her to transform once again into her Super Saiyan state. She sobbed uncontrollably, tears flooding out of her eyes. She couldn't contain her emotions, and she was lost to her grief.
She was later told that her advocate told the judge that she had punished herself far worse than any judgement he could pass. That she'd bear the Mark of Yamoshi on her soul for the rest of her days for what happened that night, and that death would be a release, not a punishment, at this point.
And so, the judge sent down his verdict; Peparia would live. She would go to the monk who taught those who bared the Mark of Yamoshi to control their newfound power. She would then join the Full Moon Patrol and learn the right way to take down a rampaging Great Ape.
So Peparia was brought back to her family, allowed to stay in her childhood room, wear the expensive clothes and eat the quality food that Peparia felt she didn't deserve for the week between judgement and when the monk would be prepared for her.
And when that day came, her loved ones came to see her off. Her father, mother and brother were there, of course, but so was Arugu and Lottus. Arugu dealt with a lot of the same pain that Peparia did, though he hadn't lost control the way she had. And that was likely because he hadn't had to watch her die with his own eyes. He didn't see her again that night until after his daughter was gone.
And Lottus was the most heartbroken. To see her girlfriend in this state, this catatonic state that was out of the question for Peparia's mental and emotional fortitude until this very event. Lottus put her hand on Peparia's shoulder, and Peparia didn't even react. Not even goosebumps that always trailed up Peparia's skin as it always did whenever Lottus touched her.
Lottus moved around so she was face to face with Peparia. And that is when she saw just how dead she was inside. Her eyes, once that beautiful brown, just seemed far away, as if part of Peparia had just died. And in a way, it had.
"You'll be okay." Lottus said compassionately.
"Will I?" Peparia said, having returned to monotone since the trial. "My daughter's dead, and I have to live on without her."
"It's time to go," the guard said, motioning Peparia over to him. Peparia merely bowed her head and followed instructions and took to the air with the guard.