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Chapter 30

The battlefield was cold and dark. The sky was lit only by stars, the earth beneath it was barren, littered only by bodies, blood and gore. Naya could still see, and what little she could see made her stomach turn. But she was used to battlefields. She walked, ignoring the smell and the various squelches under her footsteps with practiced ease.

The place felt endless. The horizon remained distant, the bodies spread out as far as she could see. There was likely blood seeping between her toes already from all the walking.

She was looking for something, though she was unsure what she was looking for.

Then something broke the emptiness. An explosion, a massive dome of chi detonating in the distance and sending strong winds howling past her. Even from here, the earth rattled beneath her feet. She was suddenly struck with the knowledge that what she was looking for was there. She ran, stepping thoughtlessly over the corpses as she made her way toward the source of the explosion.

There she found Raditz.

"Damn…" the long haired Saiyan swore as he wiped some blood off his face. "What's taking him so long?"

"Raditz?"

He turned to her and sneered. "Aren't you supposed to be up front with Nappa?"

It suddenly struck her that yes, she was supposed to be up front with Nappa. For the life of her, she could not figure out why.

"These ones are aggressive, if you don't hurry up even he might end up overrun," Raditz said, turning away and powering up. He snorted. "Some army killer you are."

He flew off, leaving her alone once more.

Then starting faintly at first, she heard screaming. Many screams. War cries and screams of pain and death all rolled into one aural storm. She ran toward that.

She came upon a sea of warriors and in the distance she heard Nappa's cries of exertion and rage as he fought. Bodies flew into the air by the hundreds. She burst her way in, smashing warriors aside in her bid to reach her senior. It took but a moment before she was by his side. Like Raditz, Nappa was also covered in blood, both his own and belonging to others. His armor was ripped off and he was visibly angry.

"No! Don't interfere!" He roared. "These ones are all mine now!"

There were two armies. They were supposed to take one each.

"I have to do something," she said.

Nappa swung once more, blasting away a chunk of the warriors before him. "You want to be useful go ahead to the commanders. Riku was supposed to take them out and destroy their coordination."

Nappa snarled. "COME AND FIGHT ME COWARDS"

And so she went ahead once more, beating her way through wave after wave of incoming enemies. She could not identify any distinctive features. Nameless, faceless things that she killed. But their blood was real enough, their flesh lingered on her fists. She tore through them, smashing skulls with single blows until a castle loomed before her.

She flew up to its top where a giant cannon loomed. The castle roof was filled with dead bodies, two of which wore special looking armor.

Riku was lying on top of the cannon with his eyes closed and his arms folded behind his head.

"If Nappa sent you, I already took care of it," he said. "The Star Cannon can't be used on him again."

"He survived a Star Cannon?"

"It wasn't full power. They got desparate."

Meaning he was killing too many too fast, even without her to help with the second army.

"And the commanders?"

"Dead. My job is done."

"Where's Vegeta?"

"Dealing with the king."

"I'll go back him up."

Riku only waved dismissively and kept napping.

Naya kept running now, leaping off the rooftop and down into the courtyard below. She rolled upon landing and headed straight for the main door-

The entire northern half of the castle exploded to reveal Vegeta and a giant muscly creature facing each other down. The creature was steaming even as Vegeta remained pristine.

"Hmmph, and you call yourself king," Vegeta sneered. He lifted a hand and incinerated the beast, leaving nothing behind; no not even ash.

He turned to face her now. "And where have you been?"

She found that she couldn't quite say.

"What is it?" Vegeta demanded.

"I tried to help everyone."

"You had your orders," the Prince said, expression cold as he folded his arms. "And now the battle is over and you have done nothing."

Naya bowed her head. "I'm only trying to be useful to everyone…"

"This is an army," Vegeta replied. "A Saiyan Army."

"I'm sorry…"

Vegeta suddenly shifted into a very familiar pose. "I have no use for weak Saiyans."

The purple beam slammed into her.

[Planet Bahtu, Lavek Prison]

Pyf and Lyf were in the middle of a thumb war when Naya suddenly convulsed and they both jumped.

The old man shifted in his cot. "Ah… I was wondering when this would start."

"What's going on?" asked Lyf.

The golden skinned man reached for the medical supplies that had been delivered sometime after Naya had been imprisoned and walked over to the cage the girl was in. He placed the bag on the floor and sat cross-legged next to it.

"I am no medic, so I am unfamiliar with the technical terminology," the old man said. "All I know is, this usually indicates some kind of internal failure to deal with the effects of whatever she was given."

"What will this do to her?"

"The concoction given is carefully balanced to incapacitate," the old man replied. "The Administer is good at his job. Unfortunately the margin of error is so small that imbalances happen, which is why a caretaker is necessary. A reaction like this means her dose is a bit too strong."

"Sounds straightforward…" Lyf said, glancing at the Saiyan girl. She was starting to tremble.

"Every alien physiology requires a unique combination, from various local and non-local materials," came the reply. "I do have familiarity with the combination and doses given to my own species, with all others I am sadly far less capable. I have no idea what even courses through her veins. My job is to deliver the substances in this bag according to the balance indicators I know of."

He shook his head sadly. "It is only simple in the sense that there are no guarantees."

"What's the mortality rate?"

"You'll forgive me for avoiding this question. I find it difficult to find meaning in what I do otherwise."

The two Yardratians turned their gaze back on Naya as she slowly began to curl in on herself.

[?]

Vegeta's beam knocked her backwards. She was completely helpless to do anything about it. Too strong. Too fast.

She smashed into something and the blast began to eat her up entirely, swallowing her in its intensity and turning her to nothing.

She screamed.

"Hey, are you alright?"

She opened her eyes to see a young man staring at her with concern. She looked around to see she was lying on the ground, in the dirt. A quick scan showed that she was fairly bruised but so far nothing too painful.

"I'm fine," she replied.

The boy smiled. "Well, it looks like you're pretty strong for such a little girl."

Naya snorted some blood out of her nose, reflecting that he was a rather big man from her perspective. She was seven years old and only reached just above his waist. But he wasn't an adult she could tell that much.

"Seems like you don't have any friends," he said, looking around. "Say, how about you come do some stuff for me?"

Naya glared at him. "I'm not going to."

He looked sad. "Why not?"

"You just want me to do stuff for you, you don't care about me; so it's a waste of my time." She folded her arms and looked away from him. "So go away."

He bent down to stare at her. Brown skin and dark brown eyes, clothes more ragged than hers.

He smiled at her. "Your friends might be that way, but I'm not. I am very interested in you."

Even disillusioned, she couldn't help smiling. "Really?"

His smile widened. "Very, interested in you." He stood back up. "But first, money. What do you say we go money hunting?"

We.

Nobody had said that yet. It had always been you and me. Never we.

"Where?"

"So there's this guy named House…"

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base]

Cel couldn't help tensing once Riku had finished talking. He couldn't help doubting his senior and himself. Was this really the right decision to make or would it all be for nothing? What would fighting now teach him that he had not already learned? But he was here to understand, to see what was motivating Riku's behavior.

He tightened up his fists briefly and loosened his posture. "Alright…"

If Riku recognized the posture Cel was using he gave no sign. "You should use your other form for this."

Cel blinked. "What?"

"There is little point in this battle if you are too overwhelmed to learn anything."

Something in Cel wanted to rebel against that statement and outright defy him but he held it in. He was here to see if this was all worth it. That was what was important.

He huffed. "Fine."

It took him a moment to concentrate, to get his energy in the right state. Then like a spark in an ignition his energy flared and swelled, bursting out of him in a familiar golden aura. Then of course, came the strain. He could feel it, an invisible intangible weight between his shoulders. Like he was carrying something heavy that physics itself did not seem to be aware of. He felt the aggression also, a proclivity towards anger that could be dangerous given his new power.

"I hope you know what you are doing," Cel said, eyes narrowing at his senior.

The comment seemed to amuse Riku. "The fight starts now."

They both began to circle each other looking for openings.

After a minute or two, Cel lunged at him.

[?]

They talked as they walked down the street.

"So where are you from?"

"This district."

"I meant like your people. Not everyone here has a monkey tail."

"Dunno."

"Ah… maybe your folks know?"

"Dunno."

"So you're all alone then."

There she flinched. "Yes."

The boy smiled. "Well now you've got me so don't worry about it."

She forced herself not to smile because trusting people blindly was bad.

"Anyway, my name is Amon. What's yours?"

"…Naya."

"That's great Naya," Amon said as he opened a door to a building.

The place was a single room with a short wall between the spectators and the fighters. Two grown men muscling it out. The room was crowded with people yelling and screaming.

Amon led her around to the back where a great big man, with scars all over his face and right arm was sitting.

"Afternoon Mr. House," Amon said. "I have someone I'd like to enter for the kids division. Heard you were expanding."

The man turned and eyed them both, his gaze lingering on Naya.

"Some decent muscle on this one," he said, his eyes travelling up and down her form. "But it takes more than muscle to scrap with the street rats around here. What she got?"

Amon smiled. "I picked her up because I saw her doing exactly that."

House eyed her more closely, seeming to notice the dried blood trailing from her nose for the first time.

"So it seems…" House said. "Alright."

He snapped his fingers and a young man came running up with a sheet. "Your name, division and handler if any."

They wrote it.

"Fights start at four revolutions past midday every day," House said. "Show up or don't. Pay is on the spot."

"Thank you Mr. House."

The man didn't even reply, his eyes back on the fight.

Amon turned back to Naya, smiling his friendly smile. "Looks like we're in."

Naya felt that feeling in her chest again. We. He said we.

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base]

Cel led with a jab. Riku was constantly singing the praises of the basic jab. A weak blow, but it was effective because if you let them pile up the damage could be debilitating. So you couldn't just ignore them. A fantastic pressure tool.

Riku blocked it with ease, retaliating with a heavier blow. Cel dodged it. Jabbing once again, he almost clipped Riku, who stepped back. Cel pressed his advantage, throwing out more jabs. Riku dodged them and planted a foot between Cel's legs as he advanced. The boy tripped and stumbled off to the side. Riku was on him immediately, throwing out a jab and then a roundhouse kick that Cel blocked.

The impact was jarring. Properly executed roundhouse kicks were powerful and generally blocking them was unwise for the simple reason that you would take some damage anyway. He threw Riku's leg aside and came in close to neutralize Riku's reach advantage.

Cel's mind was racing, as they exchanged blows. Going through everything Riku had ever said about each move or technique or strategy and selecting the best one. By comparison his senior seemed to be doing so effortlessly, flowing from one move to another without much pause. Riku's gaze was mildly absent, like he was only half paying attention.

Feints were good when your opponent could not devote full attention to what you were doing. Cel threw out yet another jab and stopped just short of Riku's guard and swept his senior's legs from under him. Riku fell and rolled back up just as Cel put a straight kick dead centre on his chest. Riku went sliding backwards with a grunt.

Cel rushed in knowing Riku liked to retaliate when you thought you had him on the backfoot. He was fully prepared to block whatever attack Riku had planned. Riku's entire body seemed to heave and his fist came flying forward. A fast, violent blow. Cel covered up, ready to take the hit and counter. The blow never landed.

In the moment he was stationary Riku side-stepped him and put a foot in his side for his trouble. This time it was Cel who went sliding. Riku did not chase him, his expression just as blank as when the fight started. Retaliating with the same trick that originally put him at a disadvantage.

A part of Cel was infuriated by this. He felt like he wasn't being taken seriously.

Big moves are best dodged. Cel ran up and leaped into the air to deliver an axe kick.

Riku dodged the blow with a simple adjustment of posture and Cel took a punch to the chin for his trouble. He swung blindly and Riku side stepped that, tripping him on the way. Cel turned around just to take a back kick to his mid-section. Cel went flying briefly but recovered in mid-air and landed on his feet.

He had made a mistake there. Never run up to your opponent and big moves are easy to read.

He closed in briskly but more cautiously now, letting loose with a snap kick as soon as he was in range. Another good pressure tool with far more range than a jab, but only if you had the footwork to stay mobile if it was blocked or dodged.

Riku blocked it and Cel immediately began to focus his attention on recovering his balance when Riku suddenly moved and Cel stumbled-

But the movement was another feint with a follow-up directly after. Riku's second roundhouse of the fight blew Cel off his feet entirely. This time the boy crashed into one of the walls of the solar room, unable to stop himself in time.

He growled at Riku from his position up above. Riku lowered the foot he had attacked with and began flicking his fingers. Cel was powered up enough to notice detail in Riku's movements and he could tell that the older Saiyan was cleaning his finger nails.

Infuriated, Cel aimed his palms at Riku and started firing.

[?]

They setup a meeting spot where every day Naya would come out of her home in order to meet with Amon. He always had news about her possible opponents. He stopped giving her advice when he realized she was quite capable of figuring out what to do with the information on her own.

She had a small reputation as the dumb girl who does whatever you tell her to, but soon her reputation as a fighter eclipsed it. Wherever she walked other children shied away from her. When she spoke they all listened. Whatever she asked for, she was given because no one wanted to challenge her. They were calling her monster.

They also called her Same. The shark. A reference to a time she had caught a surprise blade in her teeth and broken it. She had not intended to do so, but she had been so desperate. No one had told her weapons were allowed. She had never seen anyone use them either. The bright yellow flash of the sparks when she broke the blade in her teeth coined many variations of the name, some more popular than others. But always Same was in the name. Kirisame was most common.

Her earnings were used to buy food, she had little need for much else. Her clothes were tattered but she saw no reason to change them when they were still serviceable. She spent most of her time besides fighting crawling around looking for work. Put her muscle to good use.

Amon was elated to see her one day. "You're becoming a big name. Everyone's hearing about you."

Naya sighed. "They just like the fights. No one likes me."

Amon smiled. "I like you."

The comment made her feel very warm inside. She was growing less and less able to hide this from Amon.

"Anyway, you're starting to move up and soon no one will be able to beat you," Amon praised her. "You're considered the strongest in the district."

Naya paused. "Really?"

That didn't seem likely. She had seen him from time to time. Curly hair, narrow eyes, slender figure. An aura of intimidation despite his small frame that made even adults think twice before crossing him. No one liked him. Everyone said it.

"There's something wrong with that child."

There was a boy in the 21st district of the first sector. Her district. There was a boy in the 21st district of the 1st sector and there was something very wrong with that boy. He was to be avoided at all costs. Every single one of the street rats feared him. They called him names, but never to his face. Driftwood, Demon Bones, Swallow, Long Step…

She saw him every morning when he walked by heading who knows where. He never gave her a second glance. Sometimes she would see him during the day, walking on the walls and rooftops of the buildings on their street. No one dared scream at him to come down. Even on the thinnest walls, he moved with easy grace and precision. Watching him walk felt like watching a conveyor belt.

Too smooth, too clean, too measured.

Everyone said, "There is something wrong with that child."

"Naya, you sound like you don't believe me…"

"You've seen him haven't you?" she said. "You know he fights there?"

Amon frowned. "Who?"

Naya felt a strange reluctance to refer to him by any of his names. "You know. That boy. The one everyone's afraid of."

Amon waved it off. "Oh him. He's not that special. I've seen him fight. You're way stronger."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's not that special. At least compared to you."

A part of her was happy but also wary.

"Anyway, he doesn't fight there. House says he's not registered so he doesn't pay him. He lets him get away with it because he fights during off hours."

Something told Naya that House didn't complain because he was also afraid.

Naya stared. "Then what does he go there and fight for?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask him."

There was a boy in the 21st District of the 1st Sector. Everyone was afraid of him. She saw him every day.

She felt sad for him.

[Planet Bahtu, Royal Bedroom]

Shiva sat on her bed, staring around the large open space that was her room while she considered what to do with the new prisoner. Waiting for the Administer's concoction to do its work was proving agonizing. For a fruit like this to drop in her lap was more than she could hope for. If that stupid old man let the Saiyan die she would finally execute him like she should have long ago.

The men of this planet were incompetent fools but she had no women to spare on this task. They were busy managing the more important positions. Raiding others was what kept their planet thriving in the intergalactic trade. No one wanted the natural resources they could produce except themselves. Not to raid would mean falling behind other planets economically and becoming vulnerable to anyone with the resources, technological or otherwise, to seize their planet. She wouldn't put it past the Cold family, for example.

Shiva sat up and walked to one of her windows, observing the brownstone city at the bottom of the mountain upon which the Royal Palace was built. Simple materials, but simplicity had its own kind of beauty.

She folded her arms behind her back.

That Saiyan represented the next step in Ta'ava evolution. It would be yet another leg up the women would have over the men. Yes. Those bastards would all begin to look upon them as the goddesses they truly were.

Shiva couldn't help smiling. Fitting that a female Saiyan specimen was the key.

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base, Solar Room]

Despite Cel's escalation to full energy blasts in addition to martial skill, he was completely unable to overwhelm Riku. The older Saiyan wasn't even using energy blasts in return. All shots were slapped aside, more powerful ones were redirected.

At this point Cel didn't know what he had to do. He didn't know what else he could try. He was doing his best but nothing was really getting through. Riku always seemed to be a step ahead, maybe several steps ahead. Cel was starting to lose count of how many times he had been knocked off his feet. The fact that this was all occurring in his golden state only added insult to injury.

More than once he almost gave in to the temptation to go all out. To use the full power that this form was capable of bestowing upon him and rushing Riku. Except that would defeat the purpose of the fight. Another reason that held far more weight to Cel was that it would be the same as admitting that without overwhelming strength in his favor he stood no chance against Riku whatsoever.

It was easy to sit back and say strongest wins, but it was hard to be satisfied knowing that you had to put so much power into taking out someone who wasn't even on your level. It said something. Maybe it was oversimplifying, there was a lot that went into managing a higher power level after all. Greater risk and so on. But the fact remained that your opponent was using their power a lot better than you were for the simple reason that you were spending far more power and being far less effective. It made Cel feel incompetent.

Cel rushed in once more, trying for some of the combinations he'd been taught. Even improvising on some of them.

Riku sidestepped each blow easily.

"So Cel, can you tell me why you're losing?"

Was he trying to get Cel to demean himself?

Riku ducked a punch and put one of his own firmly in Cel's solar plexus. "Somebody losing track of what this battle is about."

He said it passively, like the idea that Cel was losing his temper was as interesting as the weather. Even so there was a vague hint of chastisement behind it.

Cel stumbled back, trying to catch his breath. He leaped in with a tornado kick.

Riku stepped back, letting the attack fly by and blocking the follow ups.

"I don't know…"

Riku didn't seem fazed by this. "How come? You're fighting me, aren't you?"

"I know you're blocking everything I'm doing and you're hitting me back," Cel said. "I just don't understand how you're doing it or why nothing I do in return seems to work."

He went for a sweep that Riku lifted his foot to avoid. He slammed the same foot into Cel's midsection, knocking the boy back again.

"Hmmm an interesting assessment… any hypotheses as to how I'm winning?"

Cel closed with Riku again. Nothing was landing.

"No…"

"I see. Would you like more time to figure it out?"

Cel answered by redoubling his efforts. He was rewarded with a trip and an intimate encounter with the walls again.

[?]

Amon was excited.

"I have good news," he said as he climbed up to Naya's shelter.

She had an entire building to herself after clearing out all the other people trying to stake a claim there. She had been willing to share and they had not. She also happened to be the strongest resident and things progressed naturally from there.

"What's the news?" Naya asked.

Amon came up to her smiling. "You're the top fighter now. Everyone recognizes you."

Naya smiled. "Really?"

Then instincts well-honed by the arena of the streets called for her attention. That made no sense. There were others who could match her if they really wanted to. The 'big boys' they were called, but thankfully they didn't do scraps like the street rats did. No matter how well she did in House's little ring there was no way people looked up to her like that. Gangs held a different kind of power.

Amon noticed the frown on her face and said, "It's too good to be true for you huh?"

She nodded.

Amon smiled and leaned in closer. "Oh if only you trusted yourself the way I trust you."

She melted a little bit more.

Days passed, then weeks. Amon moved in with her, occupying a small room she had no use for. He cooked and cleaned and mended clothing. He had a lot to teach her.

"I've got to care for you," he said would say and touch her hand.

Ever since she let him move in he was a lot more touchy. She quite liked it actually. She learned basic self-care from Amon.

The rooms seemed to shift, the walls aging ever so slightly as he stood before her, one hand on her cheek and there was a knock at the door.

She opened it to find a large group of teenage boys.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Is Amon here?"

"Yes, who's asking?"

"Jaja is, kid."

The boy moved to step in and she pushed him back. "This is my place. Step off."

The boys behind him began to stare at her, some of them glaring. The leader narrowed his gaze at her and said, "You're that monster girl ain't ya? Letting your reputation get to your head huh?"

He suddenly grabbed her by the arm and jerked her toward him.

"You forget you're half my size or something?"

It took her three tries to pull free and only because she went against his thumb.

"Your place don't mean shit to me yeah?" he said. "I'm here for Amon and I will get him whether you like it or not. I'm not here to play games with little kids."

He shoved past her and she grabbed his arm again. As soon as he turned she stepped off the wall and drove a punch into his jaw with her entire body weight behind it. He slammed against the opposite wall of the hallway eyes wide in surprise. He moved to speak and cringed in pain and then his expression changed to a scowl.

He lashed out with a kick. Naya sidestepped it and punched him in the groin. As soon as he dropped low, she hit him with an uppercut so strong it lifted her clean off the ground. His head snapped back and he staggered, dizzy. Naya jumped up and hit the lower half of his face with a drop kick. He slammed into the wall and stayed down, groaning.

She grabbed him by the leg and dragged him bodily outside. He was heavy but she could drag him well enough and she dropped him outside the door.

"Stay out of my place," she growled.

With the leader down, the boys seemed uncertain what to do. The leader wobbled to his feet and glared at her before stumbling away without a word. Male species tended to do that when they wanted to cry and didn't want anyone to see. She'd beaten enough boys to be aware of this. It was unspoken but all the group at her door knew it too. They left talking among themselves about what had happened.

The street seemed to warp and she was inside again, it was dark outside and Amon was sitting in front of her.

"I used to be in that gang," Amon said. "I was viewed as useless so I left rather than let everyone continue to treat me poorly. When I saw you I figured you were trustworthy based on what I heard. You care about people. No one else here does."

Naya felt a warm tingly feeling spread up her back, like she was wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold night.

The world around her seemed to warp again and she was at the Press and Amon was arguing with one of the Handlers.

"I've been keeping track! She's top dog now and you know it!"

The Handler laughed, revealing sharp teeth. "Oh that's funny kid. Do you really not know?"

Amon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The Swallow is top dog around here," the Handler said.

Amon was confused now. "That's not right he doesn't fight here I've never…"

The Handler nodded. "Yeah. He beat his way to the top and now everyone's afraid to fight him. All his matches are unofficial now. Unsanctioned. He fights when you piss him off. Arena don't matter to him no more."

"Not sure if it ever did," he added under his breath.

Amon just stared. "How can this…"

The Handler shrugged. "He likes to hangout in the Cages with the cheaters. You know? Guys who don't like rules? He spends all day fighting there. He doesn't stay nights. No clue where he goes."

"And House is okay with this?" Amon said.

The Handler's response was flat. "No one wants to challenge the guy so House doesn't owe him shit. He still comes here though. Snaps quick too. The Swallow don't give a shit none if you're in an official fight, or about to enter one. Grind his nerves and he'll let you have it."

Naya too was surprised that something like this could happen.

"This isn't-" Amon cut himself off, visibly frustrated.

Naya shook his arm. "Does it matter so much if I'm top?"

"You get better rewards," Amon said.

"Isn't what we have okay?"

"Not if we want to make it anywhere meaningful in this hellhole…"

Amon looked upset. Unusually so.

Naya wanted to fix that. Besides, she was sure that the Swallow guy was also in need of companionship. There's no way someone could be alone as often as he was and just be okay.

"What if I fight him?" she asked.

The Handler stared at her. "Listen girl, you don't even know what you're saying. There's something wrong with that kid."

She frowned. "Everyone says that."

Just like how everyone called her monster girl and were only interested in what she could do for them.

"You don't get it," the Handler said. "I've seen him. The way he fights ain't right. He knows how to hurt people. Too well. That kind of mindset in a kid his age ain't natural. He makes people scream is what he does."

There was a boy in the 21st district of the 1st sector and there was something very wrong with that boy.

She was going to dispel that myth once and for all. She saw him walk by every morning. He was just a boy who was all alone. Loneliness was a terrible feeling. It wasn't rocket science. He was no Demon or Swallow or whatever other nonsense name they had for him. She just knew it.

Amon arranged things and everything was set.

[Planet Bahtu, Lavek Prison]

"She still suffers," Lyf said.

The old man remained silent, glancing at the syringes he had carefully laid out beside him every now and then. As if he was making sure they were still there and in the correct order.

Naya was still sweating and she was still curled up, though she no longer clenched her fists.

Pyf didn't say anything. He was too busy monitoring her spirit in order to inform the old man when things seemed to be getting worse. Anything to reduce the uncertainty of the process.

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base, Solar Room]

Cel was slowly using more and more of his power as his frustration climbed. His technique and strategy was starting to fall apart bit by bit. What was the point of all his training when it couldn't even net him one hit? He knew Riku was experienced. He understood this. But an effective strategy was an effective strategy, and if executed properly, it should get some kind of result.

But no. Cel had not yet touched his senior cleanly. Not even with jabs. In the videos, whenever any member of the Saiyan Army was struggling, confused at how their opponent was doing so well against them, they asked themselves how this was happening. They usually arrived at an answer too. The opponent was faster, stronger, relying on some kind of latent ability or obscure technique.

But here none of those answers applied as far as he could tell. Riku was strong, but he had used nothing that he had not taught them discounting the fact that he was using them better. But that was the thing wasn't it? To what extent did being better at using certain techniques mean you could avoid damage completely?

Cel rushed the older Saiyan with rapid-fire punches. Riku blocked each with minimal movement, punching back while avoiding Cel's fourth punch in the same motion. Cel was knocked flying, flipped in mid-air and landed on his feet growling. He charged in once again.

There was no way Riku did not notice his frustration and escalation, but the soldier had yet to make any comments on it. He had also yet to say anything about Cel relying less and less on technique and more and more on brute force and sheer power level.

"They feel useless don't they?" Riku said suddenly.

Cel swung but the blow was ducked and his arms trapped against his body.

"The techniques," he clarified while Cel glared at him.

Cel did not trust himself to answer that question without insulting Riku. He instead pulled his arms free and shoved Riku away. The older Saiyan maintained his footing, unfortunately.

"You're wondering why they seem to work for me, but not for you."

Cel rushed in once more and Riku met him with a boot to his gut. Cel was knocked sprawling. He rolled to his feet and paused trying to think of a way to get through his senior's defense.

"It is because what we've been doing is martial arts, Cel," Riku said, gesturing between them as he said so. "Like a game of star chess, there are rules and optimal moves. We fight using complex exchanges several steps ahead of each other and he with the most foresight, the most proper execution and the necessary pieces to support his strategy wins."

Cel stayed low, listening.

"In a sense, this too is combat," Riku said. "But what about he who does not respect the rules and does not know the moves or the optimal choices? He should lose yes?"

"Yes," Cel bit out, getting to his feet.

Riku nodded. "It is only logical, given the context I have provided you- but it is false."

Cel frowned in confusion. "That makes no sense."

Riku smiled faintly, beginning to move. "I'm sure it doesn't."

It was odd how he seemed almost… sad. Like he was worried about something.

He was settling into a stance Cel had never seen him use before, expression turning grim.

"What we've been doing is martial arts and it is like a game of star chess," he said, finally coming to a stop.

His aura flared to life around him. The room seemed to decrease in temperature. The aura itself had an icy quality Cel couldn't quite place. Like it was there and not there. An invisible darkness on the edges of his perception that caused Cel to shiver.

Riku's voice came out much colder. "This is fighting."

[?]

Amon was getting really touchy lately. He was obviously worried about whether she would win. He was weird like that but Naya liked him. She would relieve his fears and destroy the myth constructed around the boy with many names and perhaps make another friend in the process. She knew he would likely want nothing to do with her- like he wanted nothing to do with anyone. But at the least, doing this would show people that he was just a person like them and he needed people, just like them.

And perhaps one day, he would have an Amon of his own.

She was at the Press at the specified time close to the end of the day, when most people had dealt with the vast majority of their responsibilities. He was there too, standing on the other end of the square courtyard. His hands were in his pockets and he was looking around the place. The roof, the dirt, the people chatting animatedly while they waited for the fight to start. Everywhere but her. Disinterest. She would cure that soon.

Amon was behind her. "Apparently the reason this took so long to set up is because he wasn't interested in defending his title. I had to pull some strings to get him to agree to the fight."

He hesitated. "I may have insulted his ability in order to do so."

Naya eyes widened. "Wait, you mean he hates me right now?!"

Amon held up his hands in surprise at her reaction. "No. I didn't really mention you except as my champion. If he does hate you, it's only as far as you represent me, I swear."

She looked back at the boy. "That's alright then."

Amon left her then and went looking for the guy who was supposed to record the matches and make sure all victories were legit. He was the one supposed to start the match and declare when it was over.

In the meantime, Naya stared at the boy, taking him in. He was tall and skinny. That was the first thing that popped up about him. He looked like he could pass for an immature ten year old even though she knew he was seven years old at the most. His skin was dark but not to the same degree as hers. Bronze as opposed to her brown.

A bit of knowledge hit her though she did not know where from. He was seven, only a few months older than she was. His hair was curly, his eyes narrow and their gaze piercing. Even now he was twitching his feet, a tic that felt at once familiar but also new. His impatience was both infuriating and amusing. Infuriating because it was so obvious how little he thought of all this. Amusing, in the sense that it felt like something she had seen him do many times while complaining about something.

The Matchman was found and things were set to start.

He settled into his specially designated spot in the disorganized crowd of onlookers and nodded.

"Aight, let's get it," he said, gesturing for them to start.

Naya brought her hands up and sank lower to the ground, turning her side toward the boy. The boy lifted his hands from his pocket but made no other moves.

There was a lot of cheering and jeering coming from the onlookers. She did not bother trying to distinguish what they were saying. She didn't like distractions when she was in a fight.

"What do you want me to call you?" Naya asked him.

"You're wasting my time."

"You can attack whenever you like," Naya pointed out. "No one's holding you."

"Hmm."

He closed distance with steps so smooth it was like he was gliding.

But his movements were slow. She-

He was in front of her.

She swung at him and he stopped short. She stepped forward-

His foot slammed into her stomach, shoving her backwards. In a single smooth motion he was in front of her again. Two fists flashed. Her head rocked back twice. She raised her hands to block, trying to get into a better position. He put his fist between her ribs instead. She moved back but he was always right in front of her, landing blows, finding holes no matter what guard she used.

His expression was detached. Bored.

Naya gave up on defense. She struck out with a fast blow. He put a hand on her shoulder and the hook missed his head by a hair. He smacked her nose with the same hand, then boxed her in the ear. Naya went stumbling. He tripped her as she went. Before she could truly fall she did a cartwheel and popped up with fists raised once more.

He stayed where he was simply watching her with a dull gaze.

Naya stayed where she was trying to digest what had just happened while keeping a watchful eye on him. She was feeling a slight ache in her head somewhere and some discomfort in her ribs but for the most part she was fine. She'd taken harder hits for sure. She'd seen him coming. She was sure she had his number but somewhere in there she had lost control of the battle.

Why?

All around them people were laughing. Some were shaking their heads. Now that there was a general consensus what they were saying came through much clearer. She had no chance.

Perhaps that was why he wasn't attacking yet. She was being looked down on.

"You going to keep standing there?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Naya replied.

For the first time he showed something besides boredom. All he did was raise one eyebrow but it thoroughly communicated disdain far stronger than anything else she had ever seen.

"I was thinking it was too much work," he said. "But after listening to the things that come out of your mouth, dealing with you quickly might be worth it…"

There were cheers and laughter when he spoke. People asking her if she was going to take that.

Naya tensed up, preparing herself. She had no idea how he got the upper hand and she clearly did not have his respect either. The first step at least, was clear. She had to beat him to be taken seriously.

She leaped at him.

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base, Solar Room]

Riku appeared before Cel in a blur, fist cocked back. Cel raised his guard, blocking the move easily.

Big moves are easy to read.

Cel struck back-

Riku jumped up with a knee to the jaw that sent Cel flying! Cel recovered just in time to land upright and he was blocking another knee.

Repeat attacks, easily read.

He shoved Riku's knee down and punched him in the gut. Riku was knocked backwards and Cel rushed in to take advantage.

As he stepped forward something glowed beneath his feet. A ki blast placed on the floor.

The explosion tossed Cel up toward the ceiling. Before his brain could catch up Riku was smashing into his mid-section feet first. Cel hit the ground so hard the room quaked. He groaned.

He had felt that. He had actually felt that.

He turned over only to catch a punt to the face. He rolled over the floor popping up with a decent sized blast. The other Saiyan spun around it only for Cel to catch him with another solid blow.

Never run at your opponent.

No something was wrong it felt too light-

Riku moved. Straight, low upper cut, straight. Each blow lifted Cel of the ground with their force. He felt those too.

Enough!

He shot back with a headbutt that Riku blocked. The older Saiyan was still knocked away by the sheer power of the blow. Cel roared, drawing on more power, golden aura surging around him as he prepared an attack the likes of which-

Riku came gliding forward through the air, a hand gracefully extending in time with the motion, two glowing fore knuckles connecting almost gently with Cel's forehead.

And the words, "Down boy…"

-even Riku would never be able to-

An explosion of immense power blew Cel into the walls of the solar room yet again, hard enough that he felt them give beneath the pressure. Cel fell to his knees, aura lost, hair black once more, staring up at the ceiling, stunned- still trying to process what had just happened.

[?]

Naya was on the ground, completely unable to rise again. She was heavily beaten and bruised. She'd started bleeding from her nose and mouth at one point. Her opponent on the other hand, only had a few scrapes from when she'd started using nails and teeth. The minute she bit him, he went completely wild, smacking her around harder and harder until even the crowd stopped cheering.

He glared at her and then left without a word.

The environment shifted and she was lying in bed with Amon tending to her.

"He really messed you up."

"I couldna' see wha' he was doi'." Her mouth was too swollen.

She would recover and she would go again. The world really began to shift. She kept finding herself in the Press with that same boy standing before, his expression more and more disdainful as they fought.

It was so strange. Fighting him was like fighting nobody else at all. She was stronger and faster. It didn't seem to matter one bit. She caught his hands and tried to overpower him. He did something with his fingers that made her entire hand ache and go numb. She tried to grab him and he would lash out with powerful blows that were so damaging that she could barely maintain her grip when she finally did catch him.

His movements looked slow, but over time she learned that it was their smoothness that created the illusion. If she considered purely how much distance he covered in the time it took her to perform an action or how many actions he performed before she could do even one, she realized he was far from slow. In fact, he was much faster than she was.

Beating after beating. Week after week bleeding and in the dirt.

Every time she tried to use dirty tactics his responses were incredibly violent. Scratching and biting of any kind was rewarded with injury. He'd bashed her so hard across the face she lost a tooth for biting him. When she scratched him he would knock her down and drag her over the rough ground of the Press until her skin was raw, heedless of her screams.

Vicious. He was vicious. A small part of her acknowledged why everyone was so scared of him.

Time flew by. The ring blurred around her as she fought and bled. The pain accumulated, her body cried out.

[Planet Bahtu, Lavek Prison]

Naya was convulsing wildly, foaming at the mouth.

"Her spirit is fading!" Pyf hissed.

The old man frantically searched through the bag picking one of the syringes and holding her down.

"Help me!" he commanded.

Lyf held Naya's legs down. Pyf held her arm down. She almost shook them off.

The syringe was inserted and its contents pumped in.

"She's not stopping!"

The old man wiped the foam off her face and checked her over again, then he reached for another syringe, counting under his breath.

"Okay hold her!"

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base, Solar Room]

Cel came to his senses to find Riku in front of him a blast held in his palm and ready to fire.

He blinked. "I… lost?"

Riku cocked his head. "Indeed."

It all felt so surreal. One moment he'd been losing his temper and suddenly here he was, calm and aching all over.

"Have you pieced it together yet?" Riku asked. "The reason why you lost."

Cel paused. His mind was awfully clear all of a sudden. He had not even noticed the rage clouding his thoughts. Now, it felt foreign but at the time it was very much his own. His but not his. So strange.

Like a game of star chess, there are rules and optimal moves. We fight using complex exchanges several steps ahead of each other and he with the most foresight, the most proper execution and the necessary pieces to support his strategy wins.

"I… don't know."

Riku did not seem surprised to hear this. "In which of the fights would you say I performed best?"

It was hard to say. In the first one, Riku had basically been toying with Cel. There was no move Cel could pull that Riku did not have an answer for. The older Saiyan had been calm, methodical, strategic. His form was good, his execution was also good. Cel had barely touched him. Had he not been relying on the extra power his golden state allowed him to access he wouldn't have done anywhere near as well as he had.

But then the second battle…

Cel looked at Riku trying to match the ice cold demeanor from before with the calm individual casually waiting for an answer to a simple question.

The second battle was where he was actually beaten. He'd been able to land two hits on Riku and even keep up somewhat but in the end he'd been demolished in a brutally short exchange.

"The first one," Cel said. "You were better in the first one."

He displayed far more skill and avoided many of Cel's attacks while punishing him in such a way that he couldn't be punished in return.

"So why is it the second, sloppier one that brought you to your knees?" Riku asked.

Cel paused to think. "I'm not sure…"

Riku had rushed in, seemingly blindly with easily readable attacks but there'd always been something underneath what he appeared to be doing.

"You were sneaky," Cel offered.

Riku nodded. "Yes. But your answer is incomplete. What purpose did my sneakiness serve?"

Cel really wasn't sure. It was right in front of him. He could tell that much. He just couldn't quite place his finger on what the difference between the two fights was.

"Start small," Riku suggested.

Cel paused as he thought. "This fight was shorter…"

He got a nod of encouragement.

"It was more aggressive…"

The key was there. He was sure of it. Aggression. Yes. Something to do with aggression. That last fight had aggression plastered all over it.

Like a game of star chess, there are rules and optimal moves. We fight using complex exchanges several steps ahead of each other and he with the most foresight, the most proper execution and the necessary pieces to support his strategy wins.

There was still strategy in the second fight. Riku had used trickery for sure.

"I don't know how to say it," Cel confessed.

Riku smiled. "The rules in martial arts are based in efficiency. Optimal moves that can be planned several steps ahead between two masters."

Cel nodded. He had gotten that feel in his first battle with Riku.

"Fighting only respects one rule," Riku said. "That is to do damage without taking damage. How exactly one achieves this is irrelevant so long as they are in fact, achieving this."

Cel paused to digest this, comparing.

"But I could say that about both fights," Cel said, confused.

Riku was smiling now. "You could."

Now that he was thinking about it the Star chess comment could also be applied to both fights. Riku had planned ahead, every move putting Cel into position for another devastating attack. He still didn't quite catch what the last move was.

"Then… wait…" Cel looked down at his knees.

Riku waited patiently for him to think, dissipating the attack in his palm and stepping back.

Both fights shared similar properties and yet the results and feel of them were very different.

Fighting only respects one rule.

Riku's moves in the second fight. They were a lot more direct. Purposeful. They lacked the technicality of before but… they got the job done. Was that the answer efficiency?

He looked at Riku who tapped the side of his head.

"Mindset?" Cel said.

"In the second fight I focused less on technically correct fighting and more on the golden rule," Riku said. "So yes. To an extent it is mindset. But it is also strategy, it is foresight, it is planning. It is all of those things applied, not to proper execution of movement and efficient delivery of energy, but first and foremost to dealing damage without taking any."

"So martial arts isn't necessary?"

"It is helpful, for the exact reasons I have outlined before," Riku said. "An efficiently delivered blow, saves energy while delivering maximum effect. In that regard, it has many benefits. Matching blows with a physical superior, saving stamina while you're at it and so on."

Cel was starting to see it. He didn't quite get it, but he was seeing it. It was strange.

"It is a question of effectiveness," Riku said. "You can be efficiently ineffective. Your moves may have perfect form and perfect timing and yet fail to serve the golden rule. You must pick and choose what will allow you to achieve the end goal of dealing more damage than your opponent, all the while making sure that it does not leave you exposed to damage yourself. Real fights are never so clean."

He paused thoughtfully. "In that regard it would also be a question of priority."

Yes, Cel was starting to see it. There was significant overlap but the difference was not entirely swallowed up. He could see it.

Mindset. Effectiveness. Priority. Deal damage, take no damage.

A bunch of fancy moves could not do the work for you. You had to know how they were useful and why and pick where and when to use them to serve the golden rule. To hurt your enemy, without letting them hurt you. Your ability to perform certain techniques did not mean you were dealing damage, neither did it mean you were avoiding damage. They were helpful, and nothing more.

That meant you had to look at your opponent and decide how and where you were going to hurt them.

It hit Cel then… the sort of mind… the sort of heart it took to look at another person and think of ways to hurt them. To decide that you were going to hurt them. Because it served your purposes.

Riku seemed to recognize something in Cel's expression and smirked.

"I believe my work here is done," he said, turning around to leave.

"You asked me to think about our first fight too," Cel called after him.

Riku paused.

"That time… you let me win didn't you?"

Riku was quiet for so long Cel thought he wouldn't answer.

Then he exhaled loudly, a breath laden with weariness and something Cel couldn't quite track.

"It is hard to serve the golden rule, without conviction," Riku answered.

Then he left the room.

Cel thought back. They'd always had excuses hadn't they? They had never been truly ready to make the investment. They hadn't been ready to go out with the specific intention of hurting people to achieve an objective. They'd just thought a bunch of fighting moves would allow them to put down trained killers. Trained killers who would most definitely have no problem hurting them to achieve their objectives. Like they had hurt them before.

We must've sounded so stupid to him…

To think that this was what it took to be a truly good fighter, a good soldier… There was no room for thinking about your enemy. He made his choices and you made yours and then you both stuck with it, through all the pain, until you either won or you lost.

Cel kept staring at the door. "Conviction…"

For some reason, the thought made him sad.

[?]

"Everyone's tired of seeing you lose."

Amon's voice spoken softly in a room. But no that was false she was in the Press. Still fighting, still bleeding, still wounded. Day after day. Endlessly. Until business grew stale, and she was relegated to the Cages. She still challenged him.

The fight continued. Every day she was a little more broken down, a little slower. She had given up biting and scratching long ago. They just earned her more punishment.

The boy's expression changed slowly. Subtly. With each day. The fights were slowing down. Time was slowing down.

She swiped at him and he dodged it with a single step, eyes flashing with something she couldn't quite trace.

There was no rage, there was no disdain. There was something new, something she had not seen before.

"Stop fighting me."

More voices. "Sir, they're not leaving the ring."

She was in a place with many cages now. The boy was next to her. Locked up for not leaving. Spending the night with the cheaters. His cell was special. Someone unruly had been in it but he'd beat them silly so now he was in it.

"I'll get you next time," she promised. "I have nothing to fear from you."

Another fight, she swung.

He leaped up to the wall of the cage and spun off it. His foot flashed toward her.

That was the last thing she saw.

[Planet Bahtu, Lavek Prison]

She'd stopped moving.

Pyf stared. Lyf stared. Neither could sense her Spirit anymore.

The old man put two fingers to her neck and waited. He leaned back and sighed.

He rolled up the pack of syringes and put it aside. He cleaned the foam from her mouth one last time. Then he placed a covering over her and sat with them.

The Yardratians knew what it meant for someone's Spirit to disappear. It meant they had died.


Yeesh. I actually managed to depress myself with this one.

As such I would just like to take a moment to inform you that there are in fact good things in life and reassure you that things do get better. On a side note I envisioned myself being much farther ahead with this story than I am now. I'm nowhere. Honestly, I might be writing this one for years if I keep up this pace. Pray I get faster XD.

Do let me know what moments came across as particularly interesting to you. Until the next.

(Do excuse any typos. I write this thing on the fly and I can only catch so many errors.)

PS. If I were to put Goku in the DC universe who do you think he would annoy the most?