AN: Still a hard story. Wanting everything to progress right, gah. And, it doesn't help that a V/B prequel to this is slamming itself in my head. Thanks, K. Nightwing. Now I can't think of this story right. ;)
Floating over the quickly passing terrain, Kameko sighed. While she was glad that she had healed so quickly for her kind, the fact that she was healthy enough to once again train the Prince did not help her mood. And, she had debated lying low, so to speak, pretending that she was still disabled. However, yesterday, there had been a knock on the door that she had answered. Once she opened it, she recognized the Royal Guard armor of the visitor. He had asked if her name was Kameko, and when she replied in the affirmative, he stated that the Prince would expect her tomorrow, as it was obvious she was well. She cursed herself the rest of the day for that slip.
As Kameko left the isolated island the False Saiyans called home, she mused over the differences. Where the False Saiyans built their homes to suit their tastes, the Saiyan homes tended to be exact duplicates of each other, created for efficiency. Perhaps the greatest difference, she thought, was the concept of aesthetic beauty. The False Saiyans decorated with trees, colors, and…life. Each home had its distinct personality, each town its own history. Proper Saiyans found little in such trivial matters, and preferred to find their beauty in the fight.
Her father had placed it best, she thought. False Saiyans cultivated new life, where the Pure Saiyans concentrated on preservation and destruction of life. As she now broke the horizon of the Palace, she understood that now. She was instructing the Prince how to preserve his own life and destroy others. Even the Palace's construction was meant to preserve the lives of those inside, with the complex maze system, and sentry arrangement.
Kameko landed, and walked over to the training hall. Five minutes early. Good. She stretched out a tapered hand, and quickly tapped in the key code provided to her. As the door slid open with a gentle hydraulic hiss, she nearly gasped as she saw the Prince already standing inside, leaning calmly against the wall.
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"Vegeta?"
"Yes, woman?"
Vegeta almost smiled when his nose told him that his mate was approaching. Much better her than another weak, worthless squadron leader having to report why someone was killed in combat. In younger years, Vegeta would have blown the leader into oblivion for his failures. Remarkably, it was Trunks that had taught him that killing them on their first offense was counter productive. Threatening their lives worked much better, as they generally redoubled their efforts, and came out ahead. On their second offense, well, the cleaning robots Bulma had created get to do their task.
Coming around from the back, Bulma stepped around, and sat down in Vegeta's lap. He settled back into his throne, and waited for her verbal assault.
"Why are you making Trunks do this?"
"Do what?"
"Train with this girl. What good is it going to do?"
Vegeta pulled Bulma's head into his strong chest, and she relaxed in the familiar warmth. "Because he needs to learn basic fighting strategies. His technique is horrid."
Bulma favored him with an arched eyebrow. "You said less than a year ago that his technique was decent. What's the deal?"
"He needs to learn something new now."
Bulma braced a hand against the solid muscle of Vegeta's chest, and pushed herself away in order to look in his face. "You've got something up your sleeve, don't you? This isn't just about training. If it were, you'd get a Royal person to train him."
Snorting, Vegeta pulled his Queen back into his chest. "You think too much, woman."
"No, no, I'm right. I can feel it. What are you playing at, 'Geta?"
Vegeta merely rumbled his chest in response, causing Bulma to snuggle in further. Her comparatively weak ears were too preoccupied with the base tone to pick up "You'll see, Woman."
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"Your…your Highness." Kameko quickly ducked her head in a quick bow, and then glanced up at the clock. It was rare for royalty to be early to anything, what was going on?
Trunks followed her eyes to the timepiece, and smirked. "Yes, I am early. Does that annoy you?"
"No…no, your Highness. I was just surprised."
Amused at her verbal cover up, Trunks chuckled a bit. "Very well, stretch out, we will begin in five minutes." Kameko nodded her head, and began a light warm up and limbering routine. Unbeknownst to Kameko, Trunks had been training for thirty minutes already, and so was fully warmed up.
After the five minutes had passed, both trainees stood, and walked over. Before Kameko could open her mouth, Trunks cocked his head to the side, and asked Kameko, "What would you consider the most important element of your style?"
Momentarily taken aback at this Prince's purely curious tone, Kameko blinked a few times before responding. He almost seemed…innocent with his head cocked and wide eyes. "Well, I'd say efficiency."
"But, we covered that…there must be more."
Kameko smiled. He was genuinely interested. "Efficiency doesn't end just in movement. It's mental. But first, what you need to learn is how to trust in your movements."
Trunks scrunched his eyebrows. "I trust my movements."
"Ok, then, don't get punched." Holding up her left hand, she made eye contact with the Prince, and then launched it at his nose. Trunks moved to the side and blocked her punch before it was even halfway to its target. "See? You don't trust your movements. You trust your blocks."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, don't block. Just move." Punching again, Kameko couldn't help but smile as Trunks moved to the side while her elbow had barely left her side. "Why'd you move so early?"
Trunks remained puzzled. "Why is that a problem?"
"Because I'm not overextended. I can change my direction, change my attack. Wait until the last moment, I'm a sitting target." She punched again, and Trunks waited until Kameko was just about finished before sidestepping at the last moment. When he realized the position he was now in, he smirked.
They practiced this for a time, and then Trunks held up his hand. "Time to switch roles."
He sauntered over to the edge of the training hall, and beckoned for Kameko to join him. Taking a deep breath, she slowly advanced. Once she saw him begin to power up, she steeled herself and turned sideways, locking her knees in, and turning her feet pigeon toed. "What are you doing, girl? Walking like that will get you nowhere!"
Kameko didn't say a word, but continued to sideways walk towards the power source. Slipping the scouter on, Trunks powered up a bit more to see her reaction. This level had knocked her down last time. As she felt the wave slam into her, Kameko gritted her teeth, steadied herself, and continued to walk. Trunks frowned. Her power wasn't much more, how could she stand? He powered up a bit more to watch her.
Letting out a puff of breath, Kameko grimaced. The power smashing into her was painful; she could feel it barreling into her side, unrelenting. Yet, she continued. Trunks became nervous; she was supposed to be down now. He powered up more, sure that this would send her into the far wall. Suddenly, it hit him. She had turned sideways to minimize her area exposed. By lessening the target, she could lock herself in, becoming relatively immovable. She was using her own strategies, rather than running in headfirst. He laughed, it made perfect sense now. "Girl, I understand. We will train you a different way now." A rare smile came over his face as he released the power he had built up.
Kameko turned to face the Prince, and smiled herself. She actually wasn't going to dread the next training session.
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In his room, Vegeta turned off the monitor to the training hall, and smirked. Perfect.
AN2:
K. Nightwing: Like I said, I've got a prequel to this kicking around, there'll be more V/B interactions there. Bulma will come in a bit more next chapter. Thank you so much for reviewing, it makes me feel all warm and squishy to know people are actually reading this. :)