Notes: The first section begins from Paiji's POV on the dawn of the eighth day (She's having a dream, by the way, for the very first section, before the star *).
~
The sun shines behind a dusky cloud in the red-orange sky, hanging over the ruined black roof of a palace and forests where a rule once stretched far: the haunting backdrop of a humid evening. Dust hangs like drooping curtains, trying to cover up the piles of bodies prepared for mass graves. Those who still stand limp and lean on their bloody, proud swords, some even having the cheek to vainly lift their chins and boast. The wiser ones lean against what's left of the palace, clutching their weapons tightly with white knuckles, prepared for Hell again, and not let their pride be spoiled by surrender. That is their way.
I timidly poke my head out from behind a bent willow tree, my pale hand grasping the smooth bark, my very being now suddenly part of the lull in this massive war. Silt fills my eyes and nostrils as the odor of blood hits me like a slap in the face. I cringe. For the first time, I'm actually conscious of what's around me, before consisting more of memories and scenes passing me like ribbons flying in the wind. My inner self, the modern self, mumbles a waking thought: "My dreams were never this real before…" They never had been. Why now, a bloody, intense, deathly, earthly dream for a real dream? Was there something I should know?
Away with softness!
My eyes narrow as they survey the camp. Disgusting conditions. One man urinates in my sight! The others don't care to watch their comrade, for they wander in pointless directions with their wounded gaits, yearning a place to hide with cleans beds and hot wine, away from the enemy and its discomforts forever. I pity them and their depleted morale, secretly glad for not being a man, who are always having duties with war and casualties and always running the risk of his entire self sometimes destroyed.
Barely a few yards away from me, a warrior pauses in his wandering of the camp. His strong hands reach for his helmet and he pulls it off with a yank. He shakes his head, trying to dry the sweat clinging in his hair. My breath is caught in my throat and my heart halts at his beauty. I am tempted to be bold to walk right up to him, in my pretty white shoes and shining hair, in the plain sight of filthy, homesick soldiers, to grab his handsome face and kiss him. "No," I think, "Don't be foolish." Suddenly, something catches his attention, and he stops. The sun shows her face for a moment, lighting up the dusty ground beneath the warrior like a beam from Heaven, the light catching the twinkle of his shining eyes for the first time. I look deep into those eyes, and the words write themselves between us…
…I love you…
Despite my usual, modern nature, the ancient instinct of a different time caused me to shirk back behind the tree. Had he seen me? I blush and the white sleeve of my kimono brushes against my pink cheeks. "Of course he saw you!" I scold myself. There is the sound of clinking metal approaching me. My body stiffens and my breath holds still. The heart in my chest is thumping, faster and faster…Footsteps of boots trudge in the dusty dirt and I dare to peek around the tree. Those gorgeous eyes meet me, and my foot, with a life for itself, takes a brash chance in taking a step towards him. He steps forward. My heart is now a hum to my ear and I lean forward to take his outstretched hand. I grasp it tightly, suddenly knowing how precious his touch was. His returning grip nearly hurts me, but there are no cries of pain from me.
…I love you…
Our clasped hands parted, mine retreating to hanging by my side and his fingers unexpectedly went through my hair, holding the back of my head and pulling me to him. His other arm wrapped around my waist, securing me as he suddenly kissed me. It was a sweet, precious kiss. I knew even before that this wasn't some ordinary man wasn't just looking for some stray pleasure…It was Trunks. My dearest, darling Trunks…
Deafening eruptions penetrate, and Trunks pulls away, his head jerking towards the opposite direction and his hold on me tightening protectively. The sounds of revived war ignite our fears and horror in our veins. He glanced at me a moment and he nodded. I nodded back. Battle cries rose and died in the air as he fixed his helmet back on, with me watching him, silently and sadly. A tear must've crept from my eye, because he brushed my face with his fingertips.
"Don't cry…" he said, "I love you."
The first and only words he said to me. He kissed me again, quicker and more passionate. I responded just as equally. Then, he was gone, his sword raised and his cry riding the wind.
…Wait for me…
I did not look around the tree again for a moment, fearing. There was no question of his death. Sounds of clashing swords, tearing flesh, and dying shouts reached me and I shook, crying. I finally dared another peek. A gasp escaped my mouth and I felt the color drain from my face at the sight I saw. The details felt even too real for a dream. My innocence is hushed to the rhythm of my pounding heart… Eager terror burns itself on the faces of dying souls, sending the chills like deadly needles pinching my skin…Awaking reality. Numbness engulfs all emotions as malice sears souls and horror strips away my consciousness in the grounds of warfare…Shattering…Demonic splintering angelic…
For a moment…as I ran from the shelter of the tree to my fallen beloved…I thought: "Is this real?"
More than anything I didn't want it to be. As I held Trunks' head in my lap, stroking his hair, and whispering to him, I could feel myself rising from my body like a cloud as a cold stab of steel invaded my back and heart, stealing my life. I could even look at my body and see the spurt of red from my chest stain my beloved's still face. The scene was fading away before me, the edges of the dream lined with red. However, even if I was waking up, the war inside my head was still going. The men were still dying and my body was still there…Maybe…I was dead…For real…
*
My eyes snap open from the dream, and I am instantly awake. Instinctively my hand flies to my chest, half-expecting the familiar, telltale warmth and the cold, slippery steel of a murder weapon. All my fingers felt was the dry, stiff material of my tank top. Slightly relieved, I lean back, my hand to my forehead, checking for any fevers. The cold sweat on my neck and face is drying, making my skin sticky.
"God…" I say, with a strange and unfamiliar hysterical note in my voice, "I was dead…and Trunks…"
I wildly glanced around, still unconvinced that the dream was over. No, the bathroom looked the same: wooden floor, one sink, a toilet, a medicine cabinet, some towels stacked neatly in a corner, a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling…My hands grasp the sides of the bathtub, heaving myself up to the little window above. There's numbness in my fingertips as they fumble with the little catches. A panic nearly settles over me.
(Oh my god! I can't feel my fingers!)
I quickly massage my fingers, almost frantically trying to revive them. The living feeling returns only after I nearly do become hysterical, which I blush for despite that no one was around to see me. Cold, fresh air gently comes when I finally open the window, and my sweat becomes even stickier. I close my eyes, glad for the smell of something else. There is a moment before I dare open them again, a little afraid of what I'd see: The still, pale face of my dead Trunks? My murderer poised with a sword in hand? A sea of blood? And bodies floating in it?
No…I am mistaken. It is dawn, no doubt, for I see the sun, rising in her golden-pink glory. A sigh escapes me. Freedom! I am tempted to blast the wall to pieces and fly away…To escape…To go home…
"…And Trunks…"
There is a quiet flood of anger in me. My fist threatens to collide into the wall, but I only cry in frustration. I've nearly always been so strong…
"Damn! Damn, damn, damn…"
I couldn't escape this damn place! Before I could move those damn Cell Juniors would grab me! And then Cell…who knows…One really couldn't trust him… The wall swims before my eyes and I blink, trying to clear my vision.
(…What's one more to him?)
My head drops, my forehead making a dull thudding sound against wood.
"God damn him!"
A noise stirs from the next room. I'm on immediate alert, my head turned and my fist poised. My ears pick up sounds away from the bathroom…I lower my fist. Maybe it wasn't for me. I tilt my head, listening closely. It sounded like it was from the entrance door of the cabin…A heavy dragging sound…A body maybe? I allow myself a shudder.
(Sotari!)
Chuckles catch my attention, and I am absorbed in listening once more. Some shuffling, like feet sliding against the floor…A deep laugh…
"Cell…"
I shift my position slightly, straining my ears. Sometimes I wish I were part Namekian! Though the next part was loud enough all right…
"Sotari," said Cell's voice, "I am surprised…You've managed to live this long?"
(Sotari's alive!?)
A mumbled response…More laughing…
"…I always knew you were strong…"
Ki rising…Then a smack…I wince. The sound of Sotari's head thuds against the floor. Then something soft being tossed and landing somewhere. Next another noise, like someone's foot kicking against something. A groan…
"Get dressed."
Footsteps…I shrink back into the farthest corner of the bathtub. The door opens and I shut my eyes. I could even feel his presence towering above me, chuckling. A hand rests upon my shoulders…
…No escape…
~
A tense, confusing strain had come into the atmosphere as the group of Z Senshi touched ground in front of the cabin. There was a slow kind of watchfulness as all eyes were fixed on the cabin door, waiting…All had their minds fixed to go and barge right in there, but the faint, glowering memory of a promise still weakly clung to their minds. Kuririn alone was torn between his love and the world as he sat down and stroked an unconscious Juuhachi-gou's hair in his lap. Everyone felt some sympathy…Well, almost everyone.
Trunks was barraging Basu with unnecessary attacks on Kuririn's crush. Basu mutely agreed, and quickly turned away from the rest of the conversation. His expression didn't escape Trunks. He opened his mouth to reprimand his friend, but a movement halted his raised hand. Every single head turned as the creak of the cabin door alarmed Cell's approach. The ugly face appeared from the dimness. Its owner took a step, exposing half of himself. The Z Senshi tensed, poised to leap forward and attack, whatever was necessary. Cell seemed quite amused, and stepped forward, dragging something heavy behind him. Trunks took in a sharp breath, and Basu reached out and gripped his friend's shoulder.
"Pai Pai…"
The half-Saiyajin girl looked deathly pale, her body limp, and her eyes were closed. One could almost think… Trunks couldn't hold himself back any longer. He shrugged off Basu with a violent jerk and drew his sword, his eyes narrowed and icy. There was a flash of light as he charged forward, sword poised above his head. Cell took a step aside, and Trunks landed neatly beside him. Immediately, Trunks slid the sword back in its scabbard and scooped up Paiji. Without so much as a nod to Cell, he stalked off the porch, a dark look on his face.
During this whole exchange, no one else had so much as moved. They didn't even now as Trunks angrily stomped passed the group. He didn't stop until he was well behind them, away from Cell's view at least. No one said anything to him. Goku stepped forward now, but it was Cell who spoke first.
"Give me Juuhachi-gou."
Gohan looked at Kuririn, whose gentle, black eyes were pained and on the verge of tears. Pen and Basu nodded at him, and the little fellow gazed down at the beautiful face of the only woman he'd ever love… His fingers stroked away the stray strands from her seeming deathly face.
"I…love you…" he whispered a little brokenly, "I only hope…that you know…"
He leaned forward and gave a small kiss on her lips. Then, he stood up, his face downcast and fists clenched tightly, the tears starting to spill. Deep inside, he could feel something tearing…Something drifting away as Juuhachi-gou was lifted up by Basu and Pen… All other eyes were fixed on Juuhachi-gou, and Kuririn, unable to take it anymore, turned his back and cried. Gohan patted his shoulder, but knew nothing soothing to say. There couldn't have been anyway. It was like a funeral as the two half-Saiyajins carried their load up to Cell's doorstep.
Cell waited for them to retreat back to their sad little group before he swallowed up Juuhachi-gou whole. A brilliant light was suddenly emitted, radiating as it lit up the whole area, blinding people. Surges of power and heat could be felt in the air. Silt rose and trees bent, and whole chunks of dirt could be seen flying. But the group remained where they were, and when it was over, the sight was simply astonishing. Cell chuckled, flexing and stretching, feeling the new added power curse through his veins. Juuhachi-gou…was finally his. His pink eyes---the same shade as Sotari's---cast carelessly over the Z Senshi.
"The tournament's in two days," he said shortly, then disappeared into the cabin once more.
It was a while before the group finally dispersed, heading back to Capsule Corporation for a meeting. Only Kuririn stayed, with Gohan and Goku at his side. Neither son nor father said anything, but sat beside their friend and watch him cry with sympathetic eyes.
After a while, Kuririn rubbed his face and said loudly: "Well…We had no choice…It was for the better."
He said it without emotion. A most untruthful line! However, Goku and Gohan knew better than to say anything. It might only hurt the poor fellow more. Gohan and Goku stood up, but Kuririn remained sitting on the grass.
"I'll stay here a while," he muttered, "I'll be there soon…"
The other two nodded and flew off. Kuririn turned around and gazed at the cabin with glassy, distant eyes.
I can still feel her ki… She's still alive---even inside that monster…
Kuririn took a sure step towards the cabin, a tempting and exciting thought beating in his head and his heart pounding. However, sore fact of him being significantly weaker restrained him, and Kuririn took a step back. An exasperated noise escaped him, and Kuririn felt his ki rise as he clenched his fists. He felt positively angry at himself, almost to the point to doing Split Form technique just to beat his copy, like Piccolo did sometimes.
Like Piccolo…
Am I… Kuririn thought suddenly, Falling into a trap?
His eyes shifted back to the cabin.
"…heard you talking… wanted to visit…"
"Cyborgs are cyborgs. …created…only information. Any feelings…artificial."
"…I human?"
"…rethink your actions… don't wish to die…Like our friend Piccolo."
Like Piccolo…
~
The international broadcast was made that very afternoon. Cell made quite a show bursting through the floors of the city's broadcasting station and interrupting various programs until he found the room where there was the six 'o'clock news going on. He then blew the nearest mountain on live television, which convinced many of the people who didn't live near that particular mountain to think it was a stunt, but those who actually witnessed it were completely dumbfounded.
There was a great to-do that evening, and the whole thing was blown up and all over the news stations, both on radio and TV. Many famous fighters were interviewed, but there was hardly one that was willing to take Cell's challenge. Most of them scoffed at the threat, waving their hands in a ridiculous air and saying things that would've made even Cell's blood boil if he had been listening. Though the creature had no access to such modern devices, he knew easily enough that his message had reached the world.
Two days later, the Z Senshi met at Capsule Corp for breakfast bright and early. Between Bulma, Chi Chi, Mr. Briefs, and Mrs. Briefs, there was even enough for Goku to have fourths. However, the air was tense, and no one seemed to enjoy the meal, delicious as it was. There were some half-hearted efforts from Mrs. Briefs to ignite a conversation and cheer, but it was useless. Nothing pierced their nervous exterior. It was Goku who finally stood up from his chair, his fists at his sides, and his determined eyes gazing at the kitchen door.
"Let's go."
Then he went out, and the others followed suit, silent. Their faces were taut with whatever emotion they had kept hidden for the past few days. Some felt the close tie of friendship tighten, some felt like crying, others battling their own personalities in an internal indecision. They all knew now, that this was the ultimate battle for their lives, and anything after…Was nothing.
It was too soon when they arrived at the appointed place. They were all in the middle of a mountain region, and an enormous white-stone stage had been cut perfectly to fit their purpose. Cell had not wasted his time. The menace appeared now, his juniors (in their second form) scuttling after him. Obviously, he had not made any new miniatures. Sotari was nowhere to be seen. Everyone's eyes followed Cell as he stood in the center of the stone stage, his arms folded, but his eyes dancing in anticipation.
His voice called out, loud and clear, to the Z Senshi: "Is this all that Earth has to offer?"
The tone cut sharply at the little crowd, a cold and harsh metallic, mocking their ringing ears. No one answered him.
"The rules are simple enough," continued Cell, lowering his voice slightly, "I will destroy all of you, one at a time, unless one you worthless beings does so to me first."
He narrowed his eyes, critically judging each fighter of his worth.
"Who's first?"
Goku took half a step forward. He opened his mouth to speak. Another spoke for him.
"Goku."
The Saiyajin looked behind at Kuririn, the closest person to him. Kuririn shrugged his shoulders. Vegeta didn't move. Trunks' eyes were confused. Paiji was looking around. Gohan turned to Basu, but he made no motion. Denno and Pen looked at each other.
"Goku."
Cell's eyes shifted upwards, towards a cliff, and others followed. Atop the cliff, there was a glowing presence of golden hair and clenched fists. For a moment, the presence seemed almost normal, like an angel flown down especially just to see the end of the world. The corner of Cell's mouth tugged in a half-smile.
"Nijuuni, I'm glad you've come."
Sotari's eyes narrowed.
"Nijuuichi," she nodded.
She leapt from the cliff, and in her fall, there seemed a change. Everything about her---golden hair, white coat, arms spreading out for balance, pink eyes twinkling---was graceful. Like a silk scarf in the wind. For once, for a moment, for a second, she wasn't what she was… It was, rather, to the mind of maybe a few observers, refreshing to know that maybe…Sotari wasn't their enemy to begin with.
I wish she wasn't, Paiji thought candidly, She would've been a smart addition to the Z Senshi…
Until disaster was absolutely positive, Sotari did not break her fall. When that moment came, she crossed her arms and a swirl of visible white energy flew out from under her. The energy gently and abruptly slowed her descent, and she leaned back, almost like sitting in a beach chair. Then, she was hovering three feet over the rocky ground. Cell waited patiently. Sotari painstakingly tested the terrain with her foot for weak ground. Some of the Z Senshi was stirring, like from a fitful dream.
Sotari stood from her 'chair', her arms crossed. She nodded: an indication of her satisfaction that no traps lay hidden in the ground. The half-Saiyajin-cyborg hovered a moment, her eyes glowing white. The flames flickered and their hues changed into purple and black. Cell stood in his spot, not taking his eyes off her. Sotari took off her long coat, in an almost casual way, and tossed it aside.
Her right foot took a step back and slightly leaned back on it. Her left fist she held out in front, the right poised as the chambered arm at her hip: Ready Position. Judging by it, quite a beginner's stance, but nevertheless versatile.
She has no plan, Paiji thought, observing the insufficiency of caution on Sotari's stance, Is she going to lose on purpose?
Cell's stance was a shade more advanced, but certainly not of expert quality. His right foot was back, his right knee bent, and most of his weight was on the back foot. His left, however, was stretched in front, his left foot in a similar fashion, and his left knee slightly bent. Hands up in a guard, back straight, head up, and head turned to face his opponent.
Kokusa-dachi, Paiji thought while taking note of Cell's stance, Also basic. He has no definite plan, but his direction is clear. It's obvious: He'll win.
A blink of light, and the fight was on. Paiji tried to watch the fight [as did everyone else], but it was quite difficult, for no one could actually see what was going on---except Gohan. The little boy was in his SSJ form, and, upon discovering no one could see, related the events as quickly as he could.
"She's just punch him, no, wait, he's punched her…A kick…Oh! Ki blast!"
A blue streak flew through the air, followed by a purple one.
"She's flying in a curve around that rock over there…He's headed her off…Kicked him…Another ki blast…She ducks…Missed her…Wait, it's coming back…Following her…"
Sotari suddenly reappeared with a yellow disk following her. Cell was hovering in the air firing more yellow disks. Sotari flew up in arch. The disks were slower, and Sotari, virtually upside-down, fired her own blue bombs at the disks. The disks exploded one by one, and Cell mimicked Tienshinhan's (don't know what's it called in Japanese) 'Triattack'.
The nearly invisible blast hit Sotari like a brick wall. Cell repeated it, and each blow caused morale to drop among the Z Senshi, despite the fact she wasn't really fighting for their side. The fight, in reality, was only a personal dispute between the mates; but Sotari's losing would cost the Z Senshi to actually move their lazy backsides (certainly, no one really wanted to mutilated and humiliated). It was the most likely explanation for what happened next.
Trunks withdrew his sword and flew at Cell, yelling at the top of his voice. Cell's attention was distracted a moment, and directed a Tri Attack at Trunks. Trunks took full force, his sword nearly knocked from his hand. Sotari recovered, and fired "Kagami Hansha!" The mirror-like beam drove at Cell, driving him to the ground. Several seconds passed before Cell finally managed to push the attack elsewhere. Sotari circled round again, toward Cell, and Cell mimicked her movement till the two were opposite each other on opposite sides (their original positions, coincidentally). They were still for a few moments, because, they were making fires in their hands.
"Sanzen," Sotari muttered, and a big maroon ball of swirling energy swelled in her cupped hands.
"Sakebigoe," finished Cell, and silver streams of energy cracked across the surface of his ball.
Sotari glared at him. How dare he mimicked her! She'd kill him…Kill him!
…My last attack.
Sotari's muscles tensed, and she leaned back, gently cradling the warm ball of energy in her hands. Cell took his stance, too, but he was too far for his expression to be seen. Sotari let the wind whistle by before she took flight, releasing a strangled cry from herself. Cell leapt from his place, yelling and raising the attack above his head. Sotari kept hers tucked above her hip, carefully and quickly calculating with her piercing eyes.
Now where to attack… Preferably, she wanted to shove it in his mouth and watch him swell as his insides exploded. To do that, however, she'd have to disarm him first… His head would be second choice. Sotari's eyes narrowed. That would only work if he aimed low…Risky… His legs? He'd trip, and Sotari could do other damage besides…Sotari frowned.
No. One shot only, Sotari thought; One shot will decide it…
Cell, who had before been a small stick in the distance, was coming closer… Sotari became taut once more, prepared to release her energy wherever it might go… Wholly prepared she wasn't (trusted instinct better than anything else), but Sotari trusted at Cell would go low, judging by the way his hand was raised. He'd probably bring it down on her head. That would be quickest. Sotari frowned again.
Too quick for him…
"The stomach," she whispered, "That's it."
She would have to guard that region, though the likelihood was somewhat low. Cell would have to change the curve of his hand very quickly to shove his attack in Sotari's stomach; and, there would be Sotari's reflexes to consider. Sotari turned this over in her mind as Cell's charging figure became larger. It would difficult to guard the stomach and her head at once…Cell was ten feet away now.
Stomach, Sotari decided.
Five feet… Sotari's left hand started reaching out; prepared to catch or brush anything out of her way. She was ready… Her right hand was behind the red ball, to push it and watch it fly its own course…If it missed…She'd direct it to travel backwards into Cell's head…
I'm going to win, Sotari suddenly psyched herself up, I'm going to kill him…It'll be over, Sotari…The pain…Over…
It seemed too close to be true. Then, she met his eyes…Unblinking…She could her him sharply take in an icy breath as he lunged…Her left hand fully stretched out…Her red ball flying out…Almost touching his head…
"SOTARI!"
Without a second's hesitation, her head turned. A flash of green bobbed above the rocks… The sound of her name rang like a church bell among the cliffs… A white fog suddenly came over Sotari's eyes, and she felt Cell's face close to hers…He had smiled at her, she thought, and his lips brushed against her cheek… He might've been holding her…She thought his hand was on her back… Maybe he had whispered in her ear…
"Farewell."
…Then…Red…Sotari felt a round sphere of warmth pierce her seemingly impenetrable skin… It greedily tore at her insides, and joyfully snap her spinal cord as it ate at tender inside of her back like frantic, happy mouth…She felt the ball burst from her back, going still, very slowly, and, dripping from its smooth surface, a trail of dark rivers… The support of a hand was gone, and Sotari felt herself fall…Splashing…Hard rock…Wet… Had she fallen into an ocean of her own blood? A lake? No…Only streams…But her own blood!
Sotari was down and nearly dead, her eyes half-open and seeing whitish haze. What happened? What happened? Where, in Heaven's name, was that distracting voice, the one who called her name and killed her? She sorely wanted to see… Her whole body was paralyzed, her energy drained… Sotari's eyes felt heavy, her head was lead…She couldn't feel her fingers, her legs, anything…Everything was asleep…She should, too…So…so tired…
"Sotari!"
That voice again. So strangled, so far…A dream? Yes, a dream…a dream she made up…One she had heard before…She should sleep now…
Piccolo…A dream…Sleep…Piccolo…
Piccolo was suddenly there, holding her broken body, cradling her head…His eyes…Black…Gazing… Full of tears…
…Piccolo…My…my love…
She wanted to reach his face…To touch it…Tell him…Tell him it was okay…He shouldn't cry…Take care of the children…
"Stay, stay…" she thought she heard his choked voice say, his tears spilling and dripping on her white, cheeks.
…Stay…I wish I could…Stay…I wish I…Piccolo!
"…I…" her mouth was full of blood.
She could not say it. She could not say it! Could stealing Death not wait? "I love you!" That's all she wanted to say. That is all! Can you not be kind, cruel, cruel Death? Cruel, ice-heart, cold-faced Death…
"…You…" Her lids were closing, "…Piccolo…"
She was leaving. Leaving him. Piccolo cried, "No!"…And she was gone.
Gone.
Piccolo held her closer to him; her limp head lay in the curve under his chin. Piccolo closed his eyes. Not denying, but crying…The Demon King…Crying…
…Crying…
~
End.