Mind Games – Part Two

Sequel to "Sharing the Dream"

A Dragonball Z fanfic

By Hana Noir

Piccolo, Dende, Kyrie and Mr. Popo stood before the huge doors that lead into the Room of Time and Space. Everyone was tense but trying their best to hide it; some were doing better than others. Popo was wringing his hands, distress evident on his face. Dende was trying to be cheerful, but falling a bit short. Piccolo stood there with a scowl on his face, annoyed with all their dithering.

"Enough!!" he bellowed, unable to tolerate any more. "Popo, open the damn doors. This is ridiculous. We'll only be gone for twenty-four hours." He caught Kyrie by the arm, steering her for the door that was groaning open. She wiggled her fingers at the startled pair and mustered up a small grin as Piccolo marched her through the opening. The door slammed shut behind them, sealed for the next twenty-four hours.

"I do hope they'll be all right," Popo murmured, seeking solace from his plants. Dende continued to stare at the closed doors. He hoped so as well. He had the feeling that the room would either cement their relationship or shatter it beyond repair.

*******

White as rice on a paper plate in a snowstorm. The silly phrase popped into Kyrie's mind as she stared at the endless empty vista of the Room. She didn't even hear the doors closing and locking behind them. She was frozen like a deer in a spotlight, unable to tear her eyes away from the horrible blankness in front of her. All that sterile whiteness reminded her of the hallways and rooms of the Facility. There had been no color there either…

Piccolo knew that something was wrong as soon as she halted in front of him. He could easily sense the turmoil in her mind and he grimaced. If she let the Room overwhelm her in the first few seconds, her mind would never survive an entire year in it. He stepped around her rigid body, noting her wide, glazed eyes. She was breathing in shallow gasps through her mouth, her hands opening and closing spastically. He shook his head, raised his hand and slapped her across the side of the face. The sound of the blow seemed to echo all around them. But it did the trick. She blinked, one hand reflexively covering the red mark that was spreading across her cheek and glared at Piccolo silently.

"That's better," he said with a small grin. The oppressiveness of the Room seemed to retreat a bit from the humor in his voice. "Now, don't think about what's out there. And don't start staring at it, either. If you feel like it's getting to you, concentrate on me. Got it?" She nodded, keeping her eyes on him. "There's food, clothes and a place for you to sleep here by the door. Don't go too far from the doors unless I'm with you. It's easy to get disoriented out there," he continued, waving one hand at the harsh whiteness. "I see no reason to put off getting started so," he folded his legs beneath him as he settled down on the white tile surrounding the door. "Let's begin with some meditation." Kyrie followed his example, taking a deep breath to settle her still jangling nerves. She closed her eyes, sinking into the comfortable blackness of her own consciousness.

Her body's increasingly insistent demands brought her back from within her mind. Biting her lips, she unfolded limbs made numb by hours without movement and clambered to her feet. Surely there was a bathroom somewhere here. She started out hesitantly, but moved quicker as she approached the small living area beside the doors. She found the kitchen and bedroom easily enough, but there was nothing to indicate a bathroom anywhere.

"Oh, no," she muttered, beginning to tap on the walls in the bedroom. "This can NOT be happening. There has to be a bathroom here somewhere." Her search turned up nothing, however, and the persistent urges of her bladder were becoming uncomfortable. Dancing from foot to foot, she started searching again, determined to find it.

"What the hell are you doing?" came an exasperated voice from the doorway. She whirled, eyes wide, to find Piccolo regarding her with no small amount of amusement.

"There's no bathroom!" she wailed, still bouncing up and down on her heels. Piccolo rolled his eyes and crooked a finger at her. Back out in the hallway, he pointed to a handle on the wall at the very end. She pushed past him, grabbed the handle and pulled. A door swung open to reveal pristine white personal facilities. With a sigh of great relief, she entered, the door closing silently behind her. Human beings and their biological functions, Piccolo thought with no small deal of gratitude that he had been spared such indignities.

He went back outside and waited for her to join him. He heard her footsteps as she approached and began their first lesson. "The first thing you need to learn is how to sense ki. This would be easier if there were more people in here, but you'll have to make do with me. Once you've learned to sense ki, it will be next to impossible for anyone to sneak up on you." She rocked back on her heels, hands clasped behind her back, considering his words. "The first thing you need to do is get an idea of how this works." He rose to his feet and walked around her. "Stand still," he snapped becoming agitated by her constant motion. She froze, waiting for his instructions. "Now, clear your mind and close your eyes. Try to sense where I am in relation to you." He waited until she had complied, then blurred and reappeared behind her.

"You've moved," she said slowly, trying to get a feel for his ki. It was almost like a candle flame in a dark room, one point of light in total darkness. She swung around, eyes still closed, and pointed straight at him. He blurred and moved to her left side. Unerringly, she homed in on him. He moved several more times, pausing before darting off again. She kept track of him without hesitation. Finally, he ended, hovering several feet in the air above her head. She opened her eyes, stared straight up at him and grinned smugly.

"Not bad," he said grudgingly, surprised that she had caught on to the technique so quickly. "But can you do it with your eyes open?" He blurred again, stopping right in front of her, one large fist only centimeters from her face. She inhaled sharply, surprised, instinctively throwing her arms up to block. His finger flicked out to thump the end of her nose and he grinned sarcastically at her. "Not as easy as you thought, eh?" Her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched, her ki rising to writhe around her.

Piccolo stepped back, watching her closely, still with that mocking little grin. He'd pissed her off badly, he knew. The question was, what would she do about it? The answer came in the form of an attack. She rushed him, her right fist drawn back. Her face was warped by a vicious snarl as she swung at him. The grin faded as he blocked her punch. He swung around as she overshot him and he slammed his knee into her back, her own momentum carrying her forward. She skidded across the floor, fingers scrabbling over the smooth tiles for whatever purchase could be found. She slid to a halt on the very edge of the tile, teetering dangerously over the lip that separated the courtyard from the emptiness of the rest of the Room. Regaining her balance, she struggled back to her feet, then came at him again.

He reached for her mind as she aimed a powerful roundhouse kick at his head. Being almost two feet shorter than he was, she had to jump high enough to reach, but that didn't seem to be a problem at the moment. He blocked easily, though the force of her kick was surprising. She pushed off of his forearm, executing a perfect backflip and landing on her feet. Never hesitating, she launched herself at him again. This time, the spinning back kick connected, making the tall Namek stagger slightly. His face darkened as he wiped the trickle of blood from his split lip. So, she wanted to play rough, did she? He had enough presence of mind to continue to try again to probe at her mind, however. If he could hit her with a mental attack, it would stun her long enough for him to calm her down.

He was shocked to discover that her mental shields were as hard as diamonds. He had never had a problem getting past her shields before, but it seemed that her anger had strengthened her defenses to the point where even he couldn't get past them. It seemed he was going to have to do this the old fashioned way. He raised his ki just enough to increase his speed to outflank her. Coming around on her side, he managed to catch hold of her arms and pin them to her sides. With an enraged shriek she thrashed, kicking backward, her bare foot just grazing Piccolo's groin. He hissed, holding her away from him. She was a little hellcat when truly angry!

"Calm down!" he shouted, shaking her slightly. She bared her teeth and snapped at him, trying to bite his hands where they held her arms. Piccolo was at a loss. He hadn't thought his teasing would make her so furious! Was it the Room's doing? There was only one thing he could think of to do. He released her, jumping back quickly as she whirled around to face him. She ran at him again and he drew his fist back, blocking her punch with his free arm, and planted it firmly in her stomach. She gasped, eyes rolling up into her head, and collapsed over his arm. He picked her up and carried her into the sleeping area, depositing her on the bed. What's gotten into you? he wondered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He reached over and placed his index finger in the middle of her forehead, trying to probe her mind again. Now that she was unconscious, her shields were relaxed and he was able to work his way past them this time.

Once inside her mind, he began to search for the reason for her anger. He found nothing to indicate that the Room was influencing her. All he could find was a great deal of stress, along with convoluted feelings of fear, love and unfocused anger. It seemed that the volatile combination had bubbled over to the point where she had lashed out. And as he was the only person there, he had become her target. He shook his head. They really needed to work this out or it would happen again. He would wait until she woke up and they would have a serious discussion.

He rose from the bed, frowning. Why was it that they kept having to talk everything over? He was a warrior, not a psychologist. It was much easier to fight than to talk, but he didn't want to spend the rest of his life brawling with Kyrie. But she understood him more clearly than anyone else ever had, with the notable exception of Gohan. And the understanding that he shared with the girl was different than the one he shared with his former student. Deciding that he needed a workout, he went outside and used his split form technique to get in a good sparring session.

*******

Kyrie moaned softly as she regained consciousness. "Ooowww…." She gingerly prodded her stomach, pulling up the baggy tank top to examine the purpling bruise blossoming there. Damn, he landed a good one, she thought as she sat up slowly. Her abused stomach muscles protested and her breath hissed out between clenched teeth. I acted like a complete lunatic, she realized. I don't know what my problem is but I need to get the hell over it…. Piccolo needs my help now. How can I let him down? With new resolve she left the bedroom in search of him.

She walked out onto the terrace and skidded to a halt, astonished. Before her, dueling in mid-air, were TWO Piccolos. She had never seen the split form technique in action, so she sat down to watch as the two traded kicks, punches and the occasional ki attack. It was an amazing sight; the two identical Nameks were so fast that she had trouble keeping up with them as they zipped around the emptiness of the Room. When they were finally both beaten and battered, clothes ripped and scorched, they stood there and watched each other. One of them straightened up, taking a deep breath and the second seemed to merge sideways with him and disappear.

Piccolo stared down at Kyrie. She seemed calm enough and her mind was tranquil as she sat there on the floor. She rose to her feet as he touched down and gave him a hesitant grin. "I'm sorry," she said, holding a hand out to him. "I don't know what came over me, really…" He just stared down at her impassively. Her hand dropped back down to her side and she looked away. "You're mad at me now, aren't you?"

He hardened his heart against the pathetic picture she made and turned away. Concentrating for a moment, his clothes became whole and unstained again. If there was one thing he couldn't stand it was tattered and dirty clothing. His cloak and turban were still lying over next to one of the pillars where he had tossed them before starting to spar and he took a step toward them. He froze when two slender arms wound around his waist and a trembling body pressed up against his back. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the contact, then firmly took her hands and moved them away. He continued over to his garments, determined to ignore her. He couldn't be weak now, there was too much at stake. He knelt down and gathered the cloak and turban into his hands, grinding his teeth in an effort to close out the empathic pain. She was struggling to keep her emotions under control, but he could still feel her sorrow. Finally he surrendered, dropping his armload back onto the cold tile. It would take a crueler heart than his to be completely indifferent to her.

He turned to find her standing where he had left her, her eyes closed tightly and her lips compressed in a bloodless white line in an effort to keep from showing any sort of reaction. He sighed, going over to her and running a hand through her baby fine hair. "Don't do this," he said softly.

Her eyes flew open and she gave him a watery glare. "Don't do what?" she whispered harshly. "Don't let myself love you?? It's a bit too late for that, don't you think?" His eyes widened and his hand dropped away. "Why else would it hurt me so badly when you treat me like dirt beneath your feet?" She closed her eyes again, but not before one tear managed to escape to trickle down her face. "Do you want to know something? I never cried before I met you. Nothing and no-one ever hurt me that badly. It seems like I've done nothing but cry since I met you." She drew in a shuddering breath. "I'm pretty used to being treated like I'm not important and it never bothered me. But now it does, and I don't like it. Not one bit. I wish I could just go back to the way I was before, when I could just hide my feelings behind a grin and a witty joke or two."

He couldn't bear to hear any more. His hands shot out and grabbed her, pulling her against him. Her eyes became wide and startled when he growled at her before bringing his mouth down on hers. Her hands crept up to rest on his shoulders as she leaned into him. He ran a gentle hand up her back, keeping one firmly on her waist. He shuddered as her fingers traced the line of his neck and teased the curve of a pointed ear. He opened his mouth, using his tongue for the first time to gently explore her willing lips. He couldn't help but to smile when she sighed against his mouth. I must be doing something right, he thought wryly as she tightened her arms around his neck. He released her mouth, but trailed his lips down her neck, inhaling deeply as he did, reveling in the spicy-sweet scent of her skin. He nipped at the delicate skin covering her fluttering pulse and she moaned, letting her head fall to the side. For the first time in his life, Piccolo could fully understand the urges that drove males to do the stupid things they did. Breathing heavily, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and tried to regain some semblance of control.

That's your problem, Piccolo, came her voice in his head. You spend too much time in control. Haven't you ever wanted to just let go? Even once?

He smiled wryly, eyes closed. Maybe…

There's no reason we can't, she continued. There's no-one here but you and me. And a year is a long time to fight. And, I'd really like to see what all the fuss is about. Unless you don't want to….

He lifted his head, obsidian eyes locking onto emerald. "Oh, I want to," he replied aloud. "Very much so, which is part of the problem."

She gave him a flirtatious smile, and pressed up against him again. "Why is it a problem? You want me and I want you. We're both adults. Neither of us are involved with anyone else." She ducked her head, smiling a little wider. "And besides, I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with…."

He pulled away slightly and looked her straight in the eyes. All he could see there was a deep trust and, even more startling, firm conviction. He knew that many people would take her words the wrong way, think less of her for speaking as she did. But to him, it was just another measure of her unique innocence. And he couldn't bring himself to say no. At the same time, however, he didn't think the time was right for such things. He opened his mouth to tell her that, but halted, another realization catching his attention. What if something happened to either of them when they faced the kurukon? Did he really want to live the rest of his life without knowing? Did he have the right to deny her request if memories would be all that she had left of him? He couldn't stifle the sigh that escaped; emotions made life complicated indeed…

She saved him from having to make a decision by releasing her hold on his neck and pulling away slightly. Her eyes were solemn as she studied him for several silent seconds. "I won't push you," she said finally. "We've got plenty of time in here, right?" Dry mouthed, he nodded, unable to speak. "I'm hungry," she continued, stepping back. "I'll just get something quick to eat, then come right back. Okay?" Still mute, he only nodded. She walked away quickly, leaving him to stand staring at her.

What just happened here? he wondered. Never have I seen anyone who could change mental gears that quickly. One minute she's happy, the next depressed, then right back to happy… He shook his head. He could ponder the feminine mind for eternity and probably still never come up with an answer.

Kyrie's smile disappeared as soon as she was out of sight. It seemed she was as good at hiding her feelings, on the outside anyway, as she had ever been. She leaned her forehead against the cool stone of one of the great white columns in the hallway and made sure her shields were solid before she gave vent to the pain still in her heart. The way things were going, the Room itself would be the least of her worries…