The Soul and The Flesh Part XXIIII Kami-sama was watching the men spar, when he felt a chill. He looked over his shoulder and saw the door to the Room Raimi occupied glowing.
"Kurilin, Popo! Come with me! The rest of you, wait here, and only come if one of us calls you!" He turned and walked briskly into the Room, Kurilin and Mr. Popo behind him.

Raimi swallowed her fear and walked over to the King, standing before him, and turned to face Cold. Their anger at each other was lost in the realization of the threat they faced together. Raimi was now one of the Royal Guard, and she would fulfill these duties as she had been trained to do, no matter what her feelings were.

"Korudo-sama, if you wish to kill the King, you must go through me. I may not seem like much of a challenge, but the smallest packages often hold the largest surprises. But you know that, don't you?" She said, crossing her arms over her chest. Cold raised one "eyebrow", and shrugged. The Saiyan King looked at her in amazement, and then shook his head. He'd never figure her out...

"What do you want, Korudo-sama?" He asked. The silence was crushing. Finally, Cold strode over to them, and walked up the dais, looking down them. He made no move to attack either of them; he seemed to be thinking. Raimi moved to stay between them, even as she felt The King try to stop her. They waited for Cold to speak.

"I want your people to work for Frieza; exclusively." He finally said. Raimi knew what he meant. Saiyans were mercenaries, working for the highest bidder. They cleared planets for the Cold Family, fought wars for who ever could afford them, assassinated for the highest fees. Ten Saiyans could destroy the entire population of almost any planet in three days, and the Elite could do the same with only three men in two.

Cold wanted to put the Saiyans at Frieza's beck and call, at whatever fee he felt adequate. They wouldn't be able to refuse a commission, or fail to deliver on time. They would become servants to the Cold Family, something most of them couldn't bear.

"I want you to keep the peace. Wouldn't you like to be more than just mercenaries, you and your kind?" Cold leaned down into the Kings face, moving Raimi out of the way with exaggerated care, his cold amber eyes piercing Vegeta's black one's. The Saiyan didn't look away, but his jaw tightened, as if to keep from saying something stupid.

"We don't much like the...interference of others. My Lord. We love our independence." He hedged instead.

"Ooohh, but I will be sure to make it profitable for you and your people. Very, very profitable, Vegeta. Come now, be reasonable." Cold said persuasively. Vegeta's eyes narrowed. He didn't have any choice, not really. He reluctantly held out his hand to the giant looming over him.

Raimi wanted to stop him, to prevent this; but she could only watch as the King of all Saiyans sold his people into slavery with a handshake. She shook with anger, but said nothing. The Kings stared at each other, and Raimi could tell that while death was held off for now, King Vegeta didn't have long to live. She turned away, and bit her tongue, feeling more depressed than she'd ever been.

Home; she wanted to go home.

"Little Girl, you may leave. Good luck, wherever you're going." Vegeta said, his eyes dull, lifeless. He was trapped, and knew there was no way to avoid the future Raimi had predicted. After all, all the Saiyans on the planet together were nothing to Cold's power. Raimi bowed to him, then turned and pulling her skirt aside as if avoiding filth in the street, walked by Cold, refusing to look at him. He chuckled, amused by her defiance.

"I didn't give you permission to leave," he said to her. Raimi didn't hesitate, she ignored him and kept walking, finally feeling the sensation she had been hoping for; her body was calling her home. She disappeared before she reached the door of the Throne Room.

"Wait, she's coming!" Kami gasped. He had been reaching out for Raimi, and was fearful for her as he realized the danger she was in. Now she had seemed to escape, and he was able to grasp her essence at last. Mr. Popo stood by his master, ready to lend what help he could.

Kurilin stared as Raimi began to look solid again, her hair growing even longer at accelerated rate. Her armor seemed to melt off her, leaving a long black dress in its place. Suddenly her back arched as she gasped, taking her first real breath in five weeks of Chikyu-sei's time. She screamed, and sat up quickly, covering her face with her hands as she began to cry. Kurilin forgot the danger of the sigil, and ran over to her. Raimi grasped his arms as he held her, asking her what was wrong.

"It's all my fault...I'm the reason...it was me..." was all Raimi said, before she bit her lips to hold in her sobs. Kami nodded to Mr. Popo, who went outside and asked Yamcha to help move her to her room. She could barely stand, but if it was because of her inactivity, or her breakdown, Kurilin wasn't sure. He and Yamcha looked at each other, wondering if what ever had done this to her was something she would recover from, and be able to help them.

It was hours later. Raimi was finally asleep; Mr. Popo had used all his sleeping herbs to knock her out. She lay on her back, breathing quick shallow breaths, looking very pale. She refused to be alone, trying to stand and follow the men as they left. Yamcha had stayed, watching over her sadly. They had seen her last five weeks ago, but she hadn't seen them in a little more than a year, Kami had told them. She was alright, physically, but...

Yamcha looked at her, wondering what had happened. Kami had said she was fine until the last few hours. He wouldn't say what had happened. "She will tell us if she wants to, it's her story."

Yamcha didn't buy it. Whatever had happened to her, the Saiyans were the cause of her problem, and they needed to know what was happening. These monsters were on their way to Earth right now, and he felt that gave him and the others the right to know what they were dealing with. Only Raimi really knew, and she was going to have to tell them.

Just then, Raimi mumbled and turned onto her side. Her hair fell over her face, and she twitched, as if it bothered her, but she couldn't waken enough to move it. Yamcha gently moved it aside, and touched her cheek. She sighed, and he smiled. She was trying to be so strong for them, to be a warrior, and he was sure that after a year on the Saiyans home world, she could fight; but she was still very young, and new to this. Kami-sama had been letting little things "Slip" about her as he learned them; one of these things was her age of sixteen, now seventeen. All of them had been shocked, and even more worried about her. Now he felt bad that she had gone at all. She was so...small and looked so fragile right now, drugged into a stupor and yet still so sad.

He had also forgotten how pretty she was, with those cheekbones and all that red hair; then he felt guilty about Bulma. He really did love Bulma, but she was too possessive, to demanding and far too bossy. He felt like a slave sometimes, having to be where she could find him, and not being able to even look at other girls, as if any of them were as beautiful as she! He had been unable to look at or even think about girls for so long because of his abnormal shyness towards women, and he had lots of time to make up for. He had no ideas at first of how to get along with women, not even Bulma herself, who he felt such a bond with. Besides she looked all the time! Bulma had even had a crush on GOKU, for heavens sake!

So they started this awful cycle of breaking up, and getting back together, over and over, each time more painful than the last. She would see him talking to some female, and fly off the handle. He would get defensive. They'd fight, and fight, and she'd storm out, and he'd feel awful about hurting her. She never thought it bad if SHE looked at guys, though, to be honest, she didn't do it that much. She had been unfair more than once though.

Like the time he had been talking to a meter-maid, flirting to not get a ticket on Dr. Briefs car (since he had "borrowed" it and didn't want to pay for the ticket). Bulma caught the tail end of that, and they'd fought for days; she refused to believe his story of what she had seen. He didn't understand it. She seemed to feel so...betrayed, if he spoke to another woman. How could someone so beautiful be so jealous?

Just then, despite all the herbs and other things Mr. Popo had poured down her throat, Raimi started to wake up. She moaned and then jumped, her eyes wild as she looked around for something.

"Hey, Raimi it's OK, you're home now..." Yamcha said, pushing on her shoulders as she tried to get up. She grabbed his arms in a painfully powerful grip, and stared at him for a moment, then sort of deflated.

"Oh, Yamcha! It's true then, I'm here? Has anything changed? Are they still coming?" She said quickly. He looked at her, puzzled by the question. She looked guilty for some reason.

"I think so. Why wouldn't they be?" He asked carefully. She took a deep breath, and shook her head. Yamcha winced at the pain of her grip, and Raimi let go with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that. I need to speak to Kami-sama, please go for him..."
"No need. Raimi, what is wrong? Can you tell us?" Kami said as he came in the door. Yamcha stood to leave, but Raimi held him there. He sat again, and she smiled gratefully.
"First, has ANYTHING changed here, Kami?" He shook his head, and she sighed, "I guess that's good. I was worried about that..."

"The Paradox of the Room does that to you. But, the magic's and science that were combined to create that space and its properties are not just powerful, but well thought out. If you were going to do something to change the future, you would find yourself unable to do so. It might be subtle, or it might be something as drastic as pulling you back here, but something will stop you from harming the time continuum, or at least that's what I understand. Also, you cannot be killed; you are protected as well, in the same way. So, while I know you had a difficult time there, I knew you were also as safe as you could be." He said. Raimi quietly absorbed this, and sighed, frustrated by her thoughts.

"But, I wasn't part of the story originally. So how could I be responsible for..."
"Who says you are? Even if you are the cause of that genocide now, you were just another means to an end. What you told the King is true. That time is, was, over. I'm sorry for your guilt, but it is self-imposed. The people of the Universe would probably thank you if they knew." Kami said bluntly. Raimi shook her head and smiled.

"You're right. I can't worry about it anymore. I'm sorry to be so much trouble, Ok?" She turned to Yamcha. "I'm starving, wanna have lunch?" Yamcha laughed at this. She was so much like Goku in some ways. Did all Saiyans have bottomless stomachs?

"Yes, Mr. Popo has made lots of food for your arrival, Raimi, I'm sure Yamcha can take some without you missing it!" Kami said, relieved at her easy acceptance of the facts. Still, he wondered how many sleepless nights Raimi would have over this puzzle, and if it would affect her ability to fight when the invading Saiyans arrived...