Falling Short

Falling Short

Chapter 12: When What We Are Is Not Enough

Koan dreamt that night. She would not remember the visions later, as they were the random, vague drifting of a peacefully slumbering mind. But in the span of those short hours the experiences were as real as the man she slept beside. She was sitting on a hill, the grass coarse against her thighs and the sun warm on her skin. Her gaze wandered, taking in the colorful scenery. Low in the western sky hung a pale yellow globe--her home world, barely visible against the sun.

Surrounding her were dozens of small, delicate flowers. Their tiny black petals would not bend with the gentle breeze that whispered over the hills. Koan laid down among them, breathing in their dry, bittersweet aroma. She closed her eyes, forgetting the faded orb, the wind and the sun. There was only the flowers, smothering her in their scent and murmurs.

She awoke before the Saiyan prince, and for that was thankful. His expression was an odd arrangement of muscles on his face: without strain, but not quite calm, as if his mind were lost in a confusing dream. The thought made her smile dimly. Perhaps he's trying to understand what happened to us this night, she pondered idly, laying her head once again on his chest. Her fingertips absently traced the lines in his skin. It was so perfect. Can…can't we stay like this forever? Just like this, so simply.

Koan sighed, wriggling closer to his body. Unlike the terrible fear of her memories she felt safe here, belonging to him. She knew that she had accomplished something great; she had proven to him a pleasure beyond fighting, where two souls could be equal without competition or anger. She hoped desperately that it had strengthened him as much as it had her.

--

Vegeta's gaze didn't move from its place on the ceiling. He lay very still, barely aware of her gentle caress. For now he would let her believe that he still slept, when in reality he'd lain awake for several of the past hours. He'd been thinking. The same thoughts, tumbling over and over, chaotic and without reason. He moved his fingertips back and forth slowly over Koan's naked back, hoping the touch would keep his mind focused to some degree. He needed that now.

He'd known Koan now for at least two years. That day on Namek seemed further away now than the day of his birth; it was as if he had always known her, as a part of himself. She lay not beside but within him, more deeply now that he had given her so much. He had granted her himself--one night without pride or expectations. In those moments he had cared only for her--had she asked for anything, he would have granted it. And though he had reveled in that strange pleasure, the prince felt as if it were an act of surrender.

Helpless. Vegeta had been helpless, bound by the gleam hidden in her eyes that demanded his help; her spirit was a fire in need of tending and shelter. And he had risen to do so, forsaking all he'd once believed himself to be: cruel, impenetrable, uncaring. He'd dared too close; he was being consumed.

But…is it so wrong? To want to be burned….

Koan resettled against him, breathing a sigh across his chest. Her tail flicked and came to rest over the back of his palm. Without thinking Vegeta turned his hand, gently stroking the soft fur with his fingertips. Her tail swayed, encouraging the touch as she moaned softly. She rose to plant a kiss on his lips--sensually, invitingly--and he responded in kind, sliding his hand up her tail to her lower back. She shivered as he pressed their bodies closer, and whimpered his name when pressed his mouth to the tender flesh of her throat.

Vegeta rolled her beneath him, pinning her arms down as he demanded another, fiercer kiss. She squirmed in protest and he unwillingly released her wrists. She wrapped her arms then around his neck where he could not attempt to trap her again. He exhaled sharply. "You're so frustrating," he breathed hoarsely.

Koan stared up at him, her black eyes wide with a kind of awe. They made his insides churn. He knew then that he would not take her as his body so desperately desired. He would do anything to feed the pleasure in her eyes, to feel her body tremble without agony. With one flick of her tail, one innocent gaze, she had consumed him completely. He made love to her with a passion that was tender in its fury, both reserved and desperate. At some point he even reversed their positions to grant her that satisfaction. And though both were weary and sore from their battles previous, neither would release the other until all their strength was gone. They had experienced each other so deeply that it frightened them.

Koan released her breath heavily in exhaustion as she settled into a comfortable position at his side once more. He remained still in an attempt to regain some strength.

Nothing else matters. This, more than anything.

Vegeta grimaced, trying to quell his turbulent thoughts. He wanted to stay here, with her, as long as he could, even if it hurt. Because in this place there was no need for battles or power levels. He felt no anger or fear. He didn't need to be a Super Saiyan.

What's happened to me?

The prince urged Koan off of him and sat up. He rubbed his eyes wearily--the sun had long since set, and it took his sight some time to adjust perfectly. His bedmate rested patiently in the silence. What's happened to me? he demanded of himself again, swinging his legs over the bed edge. To become a Super Saiyan…it's always been my desire. Nothing--no one--ever mattered more. He could hear Koan's slow, deep breathing behind him. But for a moment, she made me forget that. She changed me.

Can I allow that?

--

Koan watched Vegeta's turned back; slowly, she felt the atmosphere change. He was abnormally silent. He's thinking. Since she'd given up trying to anticipate his mind's working, she simply waited, trusting him.

Without a word Vegeta reached for his discarded clothing and began to dress. Damn. Koan shook her head slowly, her eyes closed, trying to keep her disappointment carefully hidden. I guess…it wasn't the same for him? She raised her gaze to his back as he pulled the sweatpants to his waist and then retrieved his shirt. His movements were slow, and very methodical. Something's wrong. He's upset. No--angry? She bit her lip; perhaps he'd finally come to the question she'd anticipated originally. That must be it. He's realized what's happening to him.

"Koan." He stood up from the bed and took several steps away. He crossed his arms. "We have to talk."

I knew it. Koan reclaimed her own clothing and began to dress as well. "I'll be ready in just a moment."

Vegeta lifted his chin just a bit, but didn't speak as she changed into her jumpsuit once more. When finished she sat on the bed edge and placed her hands deliberately in her lap. "All right," she said quietly, hoping that he wouldn't find her tone condescending, "what do you want to know?"

He was very still, as if sensing that she'd already prepared for this conversation. The thought of being calculated must have disturbed and annoyed him, but there was no helping that now. "About me," he stated, a bit more roughly than before. "About what you said at Kakarot's place."

"No matter how hard you train, no matter how long, it won't do you any good. You'll never be a Super Saiyan." Koan nodded, recalling the exchange clearly. "At that time, it was true."

"At that time?" he repeated sharply.

Don't let him get to you. After what they'd shared, she wasn't sure if she could go through with what she'd planned. He doesn't realize how much that meant to me, she told herself. No man has ever treated me better than a slave, but he showed me tenderness--in his own way. If I'm going to face him, it will have to be as an equal. She frowned. But can I do that? I don't want to fight with him anymore. I'm so tired of fighting with him this way. Why won't he understand?

Koan took a deep breath, forcing herself into the realization that she'd already chosen this path. Maybe we don't have to fight. If he'd just listen, I could explain. "Vegeta, I know I'm not a high class fighter," she began slowly. "I'm not anywhere near being a Super Saiyan, so I have little right in saying what I want to say." He didn't protest, so she continued with a bit of more confidence. "But I have been with Kakarot for some time, so I know a bit about a Super Saiyan. I witnessed him fighting on Namek, and I've spared with him."

Vegeta's stance straightened a bit, and she berated herself for speaking foolishly, even if his reaction angered her. I should have remembered how jealous he can be. "I think I know where a Super Saiyan's power comes from, and why you haven't reached that yet."

"Go on."

At least he's listening. Koan nodded vaguely and did as he'd said. "It's emotion, Vegeta," she declared. "Strong emotion gives Kakarot his strength. It's not enough to be angry. There has to be something behind it."

Finally, he turned to face her. His eyes were narrowed and cross. "That's bull shit," he snapped. "You can't gain power just because you want it."

"Yes, you can--" she started to stay, but he cut her off.

"Bull shit," he repeated. "You don't have any idea what it's like--that bastard Kakarot became a Super Saiyan without even knowing what it was. I've wanted this all my life." His voice rose. "Are you telling me that I didn't want it enough? That I haven't waited long enough?"

"It's not just about power levels." Koan resisted the temptation to stand; she was taller than him if only by a bit, and it would only incite him further. "But it's not about wanting, either. It's about feeling, and needing. Goku became a Super Saiyan when his best friend was killed--killed by his enemy. His anger gave him the strength to beat Freeza."

Vegeta scowled. "That's ridiculous."

"I saw it." All along she kept her tone level and clear, hoping to calm him as well. "And I've seen you do it, too. When you're angry, your power level rises. Isn't that right?"

The prince grudgingly agreed. "That's right."

"It's the same concept." Koan paused to take a breath and compose her thoughts. "You've been fighting, thinking that it's your skill that needs to be improved, but it's your heart."

"I can't believe I'm listening--"

"But you are," she insisted, earning a glare from him. "Think, Vegeta. You were the strongest member of your race, and you kept getting stronger. How was your lifestyle any different than any other Saiyan?"

Vegeta's glare intensified, to a frightening degree. You know very well how it was different, it seemed to say. She genuinely regretted having to accuse him this way, but it was the truth they both knew; she simply had to expose it. "That's right," she said, clearly anticipating his thoughts. "It was Freeza. You've had strong emotions all your life, fighting for Freeza: hatred, anger, despair--"

"Shut up," the Saiyan growled, uncrossing his arms. "You don't--"

"--helplessness. And Goku's the same," she continued without hesitation. "He's lived with every emotion a person has--not only hate, but friendship and love. That's the source of his power."

"It has made him weak!" Vegeta threw his arms up in exasperation. "It's cost him his damned friends and his pathetic life several times! He died fighting that weakling Radditz because of that soft heart you think is so great. He could have gotten himself killed again on Namek!"

Despite her earlier intentions, Koan found herself on her feet, her voice climbing in defiance. "Staying alive isn't the only thing that's important! Goku is strong because he doesn't give a thought to that--whether or not he'll die. His friends, his world means more. Don't you understand--he has no limitations!"

Vegeta glared at her, clearly attempting to rally a retort against her. When nothing came to mind, he resorted to muttering curses under his breath. "So what are you saying?" he asked at last. "That I have to be like him? That the only way to become a Super Saiyan is to degrade myself like he has?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Why must you always think of it that way? What about what just happened, between us? You must have felt it." Gods, please, he must have felt what I did. "Is it so bad, wanting to belong somewhere? Saiyans were bred weak because they were taught not to believe in a home or in friends, or even in themselves."

"Now you're speaking nonsense." The prince snorted, and crossed his arms once more. "The Saiyans were the strongest race of warriors in the universe. And you're saying we're weak?"

"I'm not proud of our race. You say they were the strongest, but they obviously were acting far beneath their potential." At least he's calmed down. Koan wasn't sure what she would do if he lost his temper completely. "In any case," she went on, "you're close--closer than you think. I'm certain that being a Super Saiyan is dependent on two factors: your strength, and your will. It's the latter that you're lacking."

Vegeta turned his back on her. She couldn't tell if it was an act of anger or retreat, but she didn't continue, allowing him space to think over what she'd said. After a minute of tense silence he said, "What about you? You talk as if you have this will. Why aren't you a Super Saiyan?"

"I'm not powerful enough. If I had the same training you and Goku did, it's possible that I would be one."

The words were a mistake, even as she said them, and she knew it. As soon as she'd finished he'd whipped around, his eyes dangerously sharp. "Are you're saying you're stronger than me?" he demanded.

"No--aren't you listening? I don't want to be a Super Saiyan!" And suddenly her lips were moving too fast, spilling forth secrets she hadn't intended. "I lived through a miserable, disgusting way of life. Do you think gaining the power to destroy planets is going to change anything? Erase what I went through? My family, my friends--even you--are the only things I care about." Wait--stop. "You may not understand, but I like the heart you call weak. Because it wasn't until I let my guard down that I stopped being afraid."

The prince's eyebrow twitched, and she pounced on that slight indication. "That's right," Koan went on, as if she were tumbling down a slope, unable to stop. "That's the limitation--fear. You're afraid, aren't you? Afraid that you'll never be good enough."

Vegeta took a step back, sputtering in rage. "You--what the hell are you talking about?" he raged. "Afraid? I'm a Saiyan Elite--I'm not afraid of--"

"You say that as if it means something," Koan spat.

"Shut up, you stupid bitch! I don't have to listen to this goddamn--"

"And I don't have to say it." She was amazed, really, that she was continuing. A year ago, she would have never dared to argue with him this way. Her knowledge made her strong--or maybe he had. She couldn't tell, but she held that precious strength close to her, and used it. "But it's true--every word, and you know that. When you worked for Freeza, you were afraid."

"Shut up! I'll kill you if you don't--"

"Afraid that he'd get sick of and kill you, ending all you'd worked for. Afraid to die!"

"Shut up!"

---

Vegeta felt his hand move. He had only intended to silence her, to stop the agonizing lies from spilling forth. But when the flat of his palm smacked loudly against the side of her skull, he regretted it. He even started in surprise at his own reaction to her words. Koan stumbled, her body tilting, and he waited for her to fall. Somehow, remarkably, she firmly planted her feet and did not drop. She was shaking--probably in great pain--but she didn't retreat or even cry out. With deliberate slowness she carefully righted herself.

She has surpassed you, too. She's not afraid of you anymore. Koan faced him, her dark eyes calm, silent. And he knew then that he'd lost to her. Despite all her hardships she was still willing to stand up to him, for both their sakes. Her truth burned fresh in his mind--the fear he'd suffered, never resolved, never defeated. Because even after everything, the thought of Freeza still caused some part of him to tremble. He would never get the chance to stand up against that ancient pain. Because he was afraid to die.

"You…you don't understand anything!" Vegeta raged--he had to speak, to escape the silence in her eyes. "This is nonsense--insanity! Do you really expect me to believe that to achieve the strongest power of a Saiyan, I have to behave like a human? I'll never do that!" I can't do that. "We're the last ones left--the last of the greatest warrior race--and you'd have me throw that away? Throw away my pride?"

"That's not what I said," Koan murmured.

"Yes, it is!" He snatched her arm and pulled her closer; she didn't resist, which strangely bothered him. "Well, I won't do it, and I won't let you, either." We are the last. "You're a Saiyan, too." I did feel it, Koan. More deeply than anything I've ever felt. "You said it yourself--you belong to me."

She didn't struggle, meeting his gaze directly, confident and without hesitation. "That's right. But I'm not like you, Vegeta. I can't be the way you are. I like this planet, these people. I like this life."

Don't you understand that I can't do that?

The prince flung her back; she stopped her momentum before colliding with the bed, which had been his intention. "You goddamned bitch," he snarled. "You're a Saiyan--I won't let you deny that. Our pride makes us strong." I have to believe that. "Even under Freeza, that was all we were able to hold on to. I hate this shit-hole planet! I hate Kakarot! And if you're a real Saiyan, you'll hate them, too!"

"If that what it means to be a Saiyan," Koan retorted angrily, "then I won't be one anymore!"

Vegeta inhaled sharply, startled by her words. And just when he'd readied another curse, she did something he hadn't expected--could have never expected. He only stared, shocked, as she curled her hands around her tail. She pulled it taunt, then yanked sharply. His entire body jolted at the sound of flesh ripping, and her voice rising in a shrill wail of anguish. The action only took a moment, but his brain was slow to register what his eyes had paid witness to. And when it was over Koan was kneeling on the floor, choking on her own gasping breath. Her fingers were still wrapped tightly around the thin black length of her tail.

She…she couldn't have. Vegeta looked again, refusing to admit the reality his senses insisted on. But the evidence was clear, lying dead and motionless on the cold tile floor. She had ripped her own tail off. The same tail that had touched him not an hour before. The proof of her ancestry lay silent, like nothing more than a discarded piece of clothing. He could not take his eyes from it. And a feeling of pain rose inside his chest, as if the part of him which had rested inside her had been removed, and the heat shared between their bodies extinguished.

Koan slowly raised her head. There were tears in her eyes and on her face, but her strength had not left her. If anything, it was greater by what she had done. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," she whispered. Her fingers uncurled, abandoning the deadened part of her. "I…can't be the Saiyan you want me to be. I have to be what I am."

"How…how could you….." Vegeta stared at her, too shocked to respond. He was shaking almost as badly as she. "You…." And then, thankfully, his outrage swelled, covering and hiding whatever else he might have been feeling. "How could you? You're--you're not a Saiyan at all! You've lost all your power--you've lost everything, you idiot!"

"I haven't lost anything!" she shouted back, her eyes pleading. Don't look at me like that. "You don't understand at all. Can't you see we're the same?"

"Get out!" the prince raged. "Get out before I kill you, you treacherous bitch! I won't listen to you anymore!"

"Vegeta, please--"

"Get out! Don't even look at me--I don't want you!" He felt his spirit rising, inadvertently. And when she reached for him he stepped away. He didn't want to touch her; her body didn't belong to him anymore. She had renounced their race and therefore him, and he didn't want the memory of her flesh. He couldn't surrender to her again; ever. "Get out, now!"

Koan climbed slowly to her feet. She left the tail behind. Her gaze had softened, but he was too lost in wrath to notice the change. She spoke through sorrow. "If I go," she told him quietly, "I won't come back."

"Good," Vegeta growled. "Now get out--don't ever let me see you again, or I'll make you regret it. Just go!"

The woman didn't speak again; she bid him farewell only with her eyes, with the same look when first they'd met. The same searching, and wondering, as if reaching behind his own gaze for something invisible and precious. He would always remember those dark orbs, and that moment in which they were clear. She was inviting him, one last time, to believe her. To cross the barriers she had passed. To trust in her--perhaps even to love her. She was praying for it, and the words lay like heavy fallen snow upon her lips and in her breath.

But then Vegeta's gaze fell, to the curl of flesh and fur at her feet, and his anger returned anew. She was expecting too much of him. She wanted the impossible; for him to give up everything he'd so believed in, the source of his very strength and life. And so he looked away, and kept silent as she slowly moved toward the door.

I did feel it, Koan. And it frightened me.

The door closed with a soft click, punctuating the stillness with a note of finality. It startled him, and he glanced after her, as if expecting it to open once more. She would come back--she always did. He waited for it, even as he heard her soft footsteps echoing down the hallway, away from him. And when they vanish from his senses his breath finally escaped his lungs in a hoarse sigh. "Damn you, Koan," he murmured. He looked to the bed they'd shared that evening, and ground his teeth in anger and frustration. "Damn you."

Vegeta's left hand lashed out, incinerating the discarded tail in a flash of brilliant, hot light. He hoped to feel satisfaction in watching it burn, leaving not even a trace of ash. But he didn't. He felt only that he had erased some part of himself.

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