Rite of Passage

by Demi-Saiyajin Prodigy

(Complete) A simple trip to track down her future husband. That's all it was supposed to be. But ChiChi's voyage to the 23rd Tenkaichi Budoukai takes on a sharp turn that she never could have expected.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball. It and its characters are property of Akira Toriyama and Bird Studios, and were used without prior permission.

Rite of Passage

Dawn. A time when most people were either still warmly wrapped in their beds or sluggishly crawling out of them to begin their days. But such was not the case here; the rising sun cast its rays over an empty bed with only slightly rumpled covers, as though it had scarcely been occupied the previous night.

And that was the truth of it, for its owner had hardly been able to sleep, and had spent the dark hours pacing about the room or sitting by a window, staring wonderingly at the stars. At this moment she stood in front of a mirror, sweeping her long black hair into a ponytail, but leaving a lock free on each side to frame her cheeks. She briefly took stock of her appearance; then, satisfied, she strolled out of the room.

The walk to the dining area was not long, as far as castles went. Once, only a few years ago, a grander castle had stood at this location and had rested atop a great, flame-engulfed mountain. But that was all gone, now; her father's old sensei had accidentally blown everything up in a successful, if greatly overdone, attempt to put out the fire. The castle she and her father had built afterwards was much smaller than the old one, but she had to admit that she liked this better. It just felt cosier.

Upon reaching the dining area, she found to her surprise that she was not the only early riser this morning. "Papa?"

The enormous man, about twice the height and thrice the breadth of a normal person, looked up from the table and smiled at her. "Well, good morning, ChiChi, honey. I just knew you'd be up early today. Come sit down and have some breakfast."

ChiChi smiled softly – her father knew her too well, sometimes – and made her way over to the table. After scanning the available fare, she cut herself a piece of fried dinosaur egg. "Of course I'm up early, Papa. This happens to be a very important day."

"An important day indeed," her father chuckled before taking a swig from his oversized mug. "My little girl is leaving home." He sighed in mock- sadness, though there was a hint of sincerity to the action.

ChiChi cut her egg into bite-sized pieces, and looked up at him indulgently. "Well, I've got to come back here for my wedding, don't I? Though it won't be much of a ceremony if I don't track down the groom first, now will it?"

Six years since she'd first met her husband-to-be. She almost couldn't believe it. Oh, she'd had mixed feelings about the boy, Son Goku, upon their initial meeting. He'd been rather rude to her, however unintentionally, during most of the trip to Muten Roshi's island. He'd been quite sweet on the journey back, though, and she'd found that she was unable to stay mad at him for very long. So she had been pleased instead of angry when he'd promised her father that he would come back and marry her someday.

And now that she was of age, ChiChi had decided that the time was right, and she wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to come back. She was going to him. And though she was aware that Son Goku had been wandering all over the world for the past few years, there was one place that she was virtually guaranteed to find him.

"I guess it wouldn't be," her father replied. "Just make sure not to get lost on the way to the Tenkaichi Budoukai, honey."

She scowled. "Papa, I'm eighteen now, not twelve; I'm not going to get lost."

"Now, now, I was only kidding, honey," he assured, raising his huge palms in a gesture for calm. "I know you won't get lost."

ChiChi nodded in satisfaction and returned to her breakfast. The conversation went back to the topic of her upcoming wedding, ironing out the basic details. She'd had the day clear in her mind for quite a long time and in less than a month everything would come to fruition.

"Well," she said once she finished eating, as she daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin, "I do believe it's time I got moving along; I don't want to miss my ship." She rounded the table and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back with Goku in a little more than a week. Bye, Papa."

"Don't forget this, honey," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small capsule case. He smiled at her. "Should always travel prepared. Good luck!"

She took the case and slid it into one of her own pockets. "Thank you, Papa. I'll be sure to make a good showing at the Budoukai."

With an easy, confident stride, she left the dining area, making her way through the castle until she reached the front doors. She took a deep breath and pushed them open, allowing the sun to bathe the corridor in its light. One more glance, back into the modest castle where she had spent the last several years of her life. A place that, after she left, she would be returning to only for visits, and not to stay.

But it was time for the next phase of her life to begin, and she had few regrets about that. Squaring her shoulders, ChiChi exited the castle, on the path to claim her future.

* * *

It appeared every inch the typical harbour town.

ChiChi cast her gaze about as she wandered down the street, taking in the modest, yet well-constructed wooden buildings, and humbly dressed residents. The air was thick with the scent of the sea and the less pleasant aroma of fish in the outdoor marketplace. She wrinkled her nose in distaste; hopefully, her ship would not smell like that.

Despite the less than appetizing taste to the air, her stomach growled. It was almost noon, and she had walked the entire way to the town, feeling that she could stand to increase her endurance before the Budoukai. She didn't want to embarrass herself, after all.

But she could manage to stave off hunger for a little while longer; it wasn't as though she had the time to stop. Her ship was due to leave within the next half hour. While taking a plane would undoubtedly make for a faster trip, it would also make for a more expensive one, and she and her father were trying to keep costs down. That, and the fact that she'd heard that air traffic over the Papaya Island area was just horrible during the days surrounding the Tenkaichi Budoukai. The seas would be less crowded.

The docks were not difficult to find, being that most of the town's traffic led toward them. Such was to be expected in a place that relied on the seas for its industry and prosperity. For the most part, the ships were freighters, many of them transporting animals or other such cargo that would be ill-advised to be placed within capsules. There were a few passenger ships, though, probably more than usual because of the upcoming Budoukai, and it was toward these that ChiChi made her way.

She brushed past several dockworkers, some of them giving her a second look that she wasn't sure she appreciated. But so long as they left her alone, she would do the same for them.

Her eyes scanned the names written on the sides of the ships, and a little apprehension grew within her. She didn't see the name of hers written anywhere. Perhaps she had gone the wrong way, toward the wrong pier? She had to make a decision quickly, and she couldn't just miss it . . .

There. ChiChi stopped for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief. A short distance ahead of her, she spied a craft that was somewhat old-fashioned in design – unpainted, relying upon the grain of the wood to give it its colour, and a team of white sails tied to the mast. Upon the side, scripted in blue, were the words Musha Otome. A most fitting name, she had thought when she'd first heard it. And a welcome sight now.

She hurried over to the crowd of people waiting to board, quickly finding herself tightly sandwiched as others filed in behind her; evidently, she wasn't the only one in a hurry. Over the mumbling and general clamour about her, she heard who she assumed to be the ship's captain calling out for all passengers to have their tickets in hand as they reached the boarding ramp.

Obligingly, she reached into her left pocket, grabbing hold of hers, but wrinkled her nose in disgust. The musty scent of those surrounding her didn't exactly agree with her senses, and she was beginning to sweat from the heat of being packed so tightly into the crowd. Ugh. The first thing she would have to do once she got on board was take a shower; she didn't know how she would tolerate being around herself if she did not.

The boarding came and went quickly, much to her relief. And now that she had caught a whiff of some of her fellow passengers, that fishy scent that she could once again discern didn't seem so bad after all. Still wasn't very appealing, though.

A gust of wind hit ChiChi, moving a chill through her despite the fact that she was wearing a long-sleeved dress. Curse these chilly early-spring breezes. Too hot only moments earlier, she hugged herself tightly to keep warm, while trying not to look unladylike as she spit out strands of her hair that had blown into her mouth.

With nothing else to do for the time being, she took stock of the other people on the ship. Not surprisingly, though there were a few women, most of them were men; this was a ship to a martial arts tournament, after all. The vast majority of them looked to be going as spectators, but there were a few of impressive build that she imagined would be planning to compete. Of course, one couldn't necessarily tell by looking. Nobody would expect ChiChi for a martial artist, after all. She wondered fleetingly if she were the only female contestant here.

"Everyone aboard?" called a voice, clear and loud if not smooth.

"She's ready to go, captain!" came the response.

"All right, folks, try to keep your legs under you!"

Though she had been quite stable while the ship had been stationary in the water, the sudden motion threw ChiChi off-balance. She lurched forward, desperately trying to regain her feet, but tumbled onto her stomach. Wonderful. Just how was she supposed to compete in a world-class martial arts competition if she couldn't even stand up on a boat?

A chuckle from above her grabbed her attention, and she glanced up to see one of the better-built male passengers standing over her with an amused smile. "Careful there, missy. Mind a little help?"

ChiChi thought about refusing the man's hand for a moment – how dare he call her "missy"! – but took it anyway. He pulled her to her feet, and she snatched her hand away as soon as she was upright. "Thank you, sir," she said frostily and walked away, staggering a bit with the rhythm of the waves.

Much to her annoyance, the man followed her. "So what's a pretty young lady like you doing here all by herself? Planning on watching the Budoukai?"

She turned, checked an angry sigh. Perhaps if she told him, he would leave her alone. "Not that it's any of your business, but I happen to be a contestant."

"Contestant?" The man laughed outright, nearly falling over backward in mirth. He wiped at his eyes for a second. "You're kidding me, right? A delicate little thing like you? You wouldn't stand a chance against anybody."

Her cheeks burned at this insult. "Oh, I wouldn't, would I?"

The man laid a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, missy, why don't –"

He never got a chance to finish his sentence, as ChiChi pried his hand off her shoulder, and twisted herself expertly under it. With scarcely a break in the movement, she hurled him over her shoulder with a two-handed swing. A resounding thud shook the ship as his body slammed onto the deck.

"Seems as though you've underestimated me, sir," she said matter-of-factly. She casually walked over his supine body, and stomped once on his crotch for good measure. And almost without seeming to, she noticed that there was now a wide berth around her and a great many men with nervous expressions on their faces. Well. At least nobody else was going to bother her now.

Or perhaps not.

The sound of applause and an appreciative chuckle caught her ears. At first, she was exasperated – what now? – but calmed her nerves a bit when she found that these were the actions of a woman. Chances were, this one would be more civilized.

The woman approached from where she'd been leaning against a side rail, still clapping a bit as she did so. "Nice moves, there. That last one was especially appropriate, I thought."

Still a little wary from her last encounter, ChiChi took a moment to size up this woman. Tall – compared to her, anyway – dull brown hair and eyes, somewhat wide of build. She walked with a confident, almost mechanical stride, obviously not one to avoid confrontation. But on the whole, she seemed pleasant enough.

"Well, thank you," ChiChi said, with a brief nod and a careful smile. "I'm glad someone agrees."

"Right." The woman smiled, and extended her arm. "Always happy to point out good technique when I see it. The name's Touki Kinzoku. But just call me Kin."

ChiChi studied the proffered hand for a moment, unsure of whether to take it. She was somewhat shy to begin with, and her encounter moments ago had not helped her any.

"What, don't trust me?" Kin tilted her head to the side. "Come on, it's just a little handshake – so long as you don't throw me over your shoulder, too."

ChiChi stifled a giggle; she was beginning to like this woman. "I promise not to." She took Kin's hand and gave it a firm shake. "And my name is ChiChi."

Kin nodded briefly, and looked away, with something of a strange look in her eyes. Curious, ChiChi followed her gaze, but found nothing of real interest, merely the sails billowing outward in the wind. Surely no one could find such a thing so fascinating. Perhaps there was some problem.

She was normally not one to pry into the affairs of a new acquaintance, but she had to say something. "You seem troubled. Anything wrong?"

Almost seeming to phase back into the real world, Kin regarded her once more. Gone was the blank, hazy expression that had clouded over her eyes the moment before. In fact, she looked almost cheerful again, though there was a small something missing on her face that clearly made it a lie. "Oh, nothing. Besides, even if there was something, I doubt I'd tell somebody I just met. No offence."

Had she known Kin better herself, ChiChi would have pressed the issue, demanded to know the answer. It was supremely annoying for people with whom she was familiar to withhold information from her. Almost like lying. But as Kin had said, they'd just met. "Don't worry about it. That makes sense to me."

"Say," Kin began, eyebrows dropping almost imperceptibly. "You told that creep that you were hoping to qualify for the Budoukai, right?"

ChiChi nodded, unsure of where this was going.

A smile pulled Kin's lips wide. "That's great. For a while, it was looking like I was the only woman with the guts to do that. A little company's nice."

"You're . . ." ChiChi couldn't hide her shock. Certainly, she'd thought the same thing of herself, but she hadn't quite expected this development.

"Well, of course. I would think you'd know that looks don't always give an adequate representation of strength." Kin crossed her arms, looking indignant. "You don't exactly look like you could toss a grown man around, but you did, didn't you?"

That was certainly true, though people would be a bit more likely to consider Kin a threat; the brunette was taller, broader, and once again, ChiChi remembered the way that Kin had approached her – with a stride that would make any warrior proud.

ChiChi almost slapped herself in the forehead over her inability to notice the obvious. "Right. I apologize."

"Ah, forget I said anything." Kin relaxed, letting her arms drop to her sides. "Anyway, ChiChi, since we seem to be the only members of the women's club here, why don't we test each other out? Feel up for a practice match?"

"Well . . ." ChiChi began, not quite sure of what to say. She had walked the whole way to the harbour town, and her legs had a slight ache from being up on them through the whole morning – definitely a hindrance in a real bout as opposed to a single defensive manoeuvre. Still, the Budoukai was in just three days, and practice with a sparring partner would surely round her into form. "I –"

Seemingly finding this a perfect moment, a large wave hit the ship, causing it to bob more than normal. As a result, ChiChi ended up introducing herself to the deck for the second time that day. "Ah, Kami, this stupid ship . . ."

Kin chuckled. "I think I'll take that as a no."

"Well, you shouldn't," ChiChi said, feeling anger colour her cheeks as she climbed back to her feet. "I was about to agree right when this horrid thing lurched. If you're up to it, then so am I." The ship jumped again, obviously intending to make a fool out of her, but she managed to get by this time with a stumble rather than a fall.

"Okay, then," Kin said, with an infuriating smirk – infuriating because the bouncing of the ship seemed to have had no effect on her balance whatsoever. She stood straight and steady as always. Perhaps agreeing to a practice match wasn't the most intelligent thing to be doing at the moment. "But not right now, obviously. You're having enough trouble just standing up for more than fifteen minutes. I'll give you a chance to get your sea legs. Trust me, you'll need them. How about tomorrow morning on this deck?"

"Tomorrow morning it is, then." ChiChi was still wobbling on her legs. If the boat kept jumping like this for very much longer, then she was probably going to be sick. Just perfect.

Kin's smile broadened. "Great. Catch you then. As long as you're not still falling down, that is." A small wave of her hand, and she walked away.

Somehow, that exchange had taken a toll on ChiChi, not leaving her feeling tired so much as drained. All things considered, it was probably as good a time as any – the best one, perhaps – to go below decks to her cabin. A rest would likely do her some good, especially with her upcoming match against Kin.

But yes, she reflected as she staggered across the deck, she had better not be falling down tomorrow. It was merely a matter of becoming acclimated to her surroundings, of subtly adjusting her balance. And she was a fighter, so surely that wouldn't take but a few moments more.

* * *

"Gah! How long is this going to keep happening?"

Well into the night, ChiChi picked herself up off the floor of her cabin. She sat down on the bed, grimacing, and carefully rolled up her pant legs. By the only somewhat more than adequate lighting of the bedside lamp, she was able to confirm her suspicion. Upon each knee there was a small, purplish discolouration. Bruises, when all that she had been trying to do was walk. Even before she'd really fought anyone, she was injured.

The ship's rocking in the waters did not seem quite so bad right now, at least. In fact, now that she was sitting, it felt almost relaxing. She needed something to calm her nerves.

And something to calm her stomach wouldn't hurt either.

While she was not feeling overly nauseated, she was enough so that it bothered her. Why had she never considered the possibility of getting seasick? It was a ridiculously simple concept.

With a sigh to partially and temporarily expel her nausea, she rolled her pant legs back down, and idly reached into her pocket for the capsule case that her father had given her. In pondering her encounter with that Kinzoku woman, she had forgotten about it. Perhaps there was something in there that could help her; after all, her father babied her, and likely provided something for this kind of situation.

She clicked open the capsule case, finding it only half full – her father was concerned, but he was also economical. Idly, she picked one up and pressed the plunger, before dropping it on the floor. Yellow smoke puffed from the container, and when it cleared, two neat stacks of clothing rested in its place, obviously her wardrobe for the next few days. Useful yes, but not what she needed at the moment.

She picked the next one out, repeating the same process as she had with the first. For a moment, she almost did not see what was in the capsule, for it was so small. ChiChi leaned forward for a better look and found it to be a tiny bottle. Curious, she picked it up and examined the label.

"Seasickness medication." She smiled fondly and shook her head. "You always know what I need, don't you Papa? I'll have to remember to thank you when I get home"

She popped the lid, and carefully dropped to pills into her palm. She was not fond of taking medication, but this really was in her best interest at the moment, so she closed her eyes, and downed the pills in one quick gulp. Despite her speed, she still got a taste of them as they slid across her tongue. Bitter and chalky. Thank Kami the aftertaste wouldn't last long. She grimaced and ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth to hurry the ridding of that disgusting flavour. The things she had to do to make herself feel better. Ugh.

There was one last capsule in the case, but ChiChi could not imagine what it was for. All of the essentials were pretty much taken care of. Trust her father to be overprotective. She wouldn't baby her children like that. Still, being as she had nothing better do and that she was genuinely curious, she lifted it from its case.

Surprisingly, she felt it crinkle under her fingers. Confusion furrowing her brow, she brought the tiny object to her face so that she could inspect it more closely. A piece of paper. Gingerly, ChiChi unwrapped this from the capsule, and found the words "In Case of Emergency" scripted upon it in black ink. In case of emergency? Just what was her father expecting to happen here?

Even more that ever, she wished to open the capsule, to discover its contents, but she resisted. Without the note, it would be a different story, but her father obviously didn't want her to see it unless something drastic came up. Since she was a good daughter and respected her father, she put her whirling curiosity to rest. If it truly was for emergencies, she might not want to know what was contained within that capsule.

And besides, it was late. She wanted to be ready for that practice match on the morrow, and a lack of sleep would certainly not do her any favours. Her legs were shoddy enough on this blasted ship as it was. No need to make things worse.

And with this thought in mind, ChiChi recapsulated the seasickness medication and the clothing, placing both capsules back inside the case. This she left on the small table beside her bed, and turned off the lamp.

* * *

The wind buffeted her clothing, her hair, and made the ship bob unevenly in the water. But this time she kept her feet, with passable grace if not perfect. The day was a little cloudier than the previous one, and ChiChi silently hoped that the winds would not pick up anytime soon. Though she had gained a measure of her sea legs, she did not want to have to deal with the bother of a storm.

She sighed impatiently, glancing at the sun, or what she could see of it, from behind the clouds. It was silly of her to be impatient, as she and Kin had not actually set a time. They had agreed on morning, but that was it. ChiChi had not thought to ask for something more specific.

Several passengers roamed around the decks, all keeping a respectable distance away from her. Seemed to still be frightened of her after her little skills demonstration the previous day. At this, she had to smile; it was such a wicked little thrill to actually have people afraid of her. Not something she wanted to make a habit of, but just one bad thing that a normally good girl could enjoy once in a while. Surely there was no harm done. And if they were afraid of her for executing a simple throw, they would be well terrified of her by the day's end. And of Kin, too, if the other woman were any good. Though she presumed that she probably was; she was entering the Budoukai, after all, and it simply seemed in Kin's character to want to show everyone up. She seemed to get an honest kick out of being able to tease other people. Made her day, ChiChi could just tell.

"Oh, so there you are," came a voice from across the deck. ChiChi glanced up to see Kin advancing toward her, clad in the same outfit that she'd worn the previous day: knee length grey shorts and a loose red tee shirt. Perhaps she had forgotten to pack extra clothes. ChiChi didn't know her well enough too peg her as the forgetful type or not. She supposed it didn't matter.

"Well of course I'm here," ChiChi defended, annoyed for some reason. "We agreed to have a match here this morning. Where else would I be?"

Kin raised her hands in apology. "Hey, sorry. Just couldn't find you when I didn't see anyone staggering across the deck in a sad attempt to stay on her feet."

ChiChi felt her cheeks flush. "As you can see, I'm fine. It only took a few minutes more," she lied. She didn't want to give this woman the satisfaction that she had not gotten her balance until this very morning. In the back of her mind, she began to question why she had ever liked this woman the slightest bit. Kin didn't have the familiarity with her that would allow ChiChi to pass of her comments as good natured jokes. And if Kin continued at this rate, then she never would.

"I guess so. So I'll assume you're ready."

"I am." ChiChi lowered herself into a defensive crouch, fists raised, back leg bent bearing her weight, front leg straightened. Across from her, Kin took a forward stance, one fist pulled back.

There was no signal to begin the match. It simply happened. ChiChi, using her annoyance to fuel her muscles, made the first move, launching herself at her opponent with a fist cocked.

But the blow did not land. Kin stepped to the side, catching ChiChi with an elbow to her back as she passed. ChiChi grunted in pain and stumbled face first to the deck. She sensed a danger behind her before she could rise, and rolled to her side just as she heard the hard impact of a fist on wood.

With Kin's motion temporarily halted, ChiChi brought herself up into crouch, and shot one leg out, sweeping Kin's out from under her.

Kin surprised her. While the foot sweep had taken her down, she regained her feet at the same time as ChiChi and was able to duck under her follow- up punch to deliver one of her own.

Pain exploded into ChiChi's stomach – that fist felt like steel! She fell against the mast, the breath totally expelled form her body. She could barley think; her head swam like the fish that would be far below her feet. All that her mind could register was how much that blow had hurt. How, from just one strike?

ChiChi did not know how she managed to dodge the next attack. In fact, she didn't know how she even perceived it. There was still no breath in her; she just moved of her own volition, a body on instinct, a mind on auto pilot. Was this how she was to fight?

A successful counter registered in her mind, the sensation of her foot contacting a kneecap. Then her fist catching a cheek. Kin reeled to the side, staggered for once, and ChiChi took this opportunity to catch her breath.

Goodness what had that been? ChiChi had spent her whole life training against her father, had even sparred with her future husband on one occasion, and neither of them had hit her with that kind of force. Her belly still ached, though thankfully air was flowing into her lungs again. They burned so hot that she had forgotten for a moment a time in which they had been functioning normally. Just a moment, please just another moment; she could not handle another attack right now . . .

Kin straightened her posture, putting a hand to her cheek. There was a slight discolouration there that made ChiChi smirk despite her breathlessness. At least she'd done some damage. The other woman did not seem perturbed by it in the least, however. In fact, her lips spread into a smirk that matched ChiChi's own.

"Nice recovery there," she said. "I thought I had you down after that punch in the gut. I was all prepared to be disappointed but instead I'm impressed. You're a little short on overall skill, though."

ChiChi gulped in more air, her breathing beginning to come normally at last. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that a crowd had gathered around her and Kin, looking every bit as astonished as she felt. Not surprising, all things considered. Any of those with plans to enter the Budoukai were probably reconsidering them now.

"So you up for going on, or did I scare you too much?"

ChiChi considered this. Only a couple of blows into the fight and she had already been winded and injured, albeit the latter only slightly. The power of Kin's blows was frightening, unlike anything she'd ever imagined she would feel – or that anyone would ever feel. Though she did not want to admit it, ChiChi acknowledged the seed of fear in her gut of this woman. But still, to give Kin that satisfaction . . . "No. Let's continue. I'm not afraid."

Kin nodded appreciatively. "Good. I'm glad you don't scare off as easily as most people. More fun this way."

This time, Kin made the first assault. ChiChi leapt to the side, keeping in mind her opponents strength; blocking would only get her injured, thus the better strategy was to dodge.

She lunged toward Kin, fist aimed at the other woman's side, but Kin calmly sidestepped this and twirled about in a roundhouse kick. ChiChi ducked under this, dropping to sweep at Kin's supporting leg just as she had done earlier.

But she couldn't count on the same move working twice. Kin hopped over this, bringing a foot down on ChiChi's back. The pressure did not last long however, and the foot was off her back in mere seconds. Intentionally lifted by its owner. Back aching and face pressed against the deck, ChiChi could not decide whether she was glad that the woman was showing restraint, or insulted that she was giving her charity.

These thoughts, however, she banished form her mind. Slowly, ChiChi climbed to her feet, one hand absently reaching behind her to rub at her back. She narrowed her eyes at Kin, whose thin lips were curved in a pleased smile. Whether the brunette was pleased that she was winning so easily, or that her opponent still had fight in her, ChiChi did not know.

Nor did she care.

She charged forward, working on pure adrenaline now, fist held back as she gathered tension into her shoulder. With a mighty yell, she threw that fist forward.

And Kin caught her punch.

Shocked, ChiChi pushed forward with her other first, but this one suffered the same fate. Just perfect. She had gotten herself into a lock. As if that itself was not bad enough, she had gotten herself into a lock with someone who was by far her superior in strength. Breaking it would not be easy.

But it turned out that she did not have to worry about breaking it at all; Kin's foot came into hard contact with her stomach – considering the force of the blows, it was amazing that nothing there had been broken yet – and Chichi felt the hold on her relax, and she tumbled to the deck once more.

The pain was incredible, rippling in circular waves through her belly and working their way up to her chest, then back again. Kin was going too far; this was only a sparring match for goodness sake! Not a tournament bout or a real battle. This had to stop!

That was what Chichi was thinking – she was sure that it was, so how and why she did what she did next she did not know.

Kin was coming in for another blow, and ChiChi leaned back, palms flat against the deck, and pushed off. Both feet struck Kin square in the face, eliciting a surprised and pained grunt as the taller woman fell backward, ChiChi landing awkwardly on her face. She stumbled off, stunned at what she had just managed to accomplish, and was not prepared for Kin's fist as it slammed into her calf.

ChiChi's leg buckled, and she went down again, eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Stubbornly, she forced them open again, and found Kin standing over her, face slightly dirtied, and her eyes seeming to glow red. Her hair was a brown mess surrounding her face; combined, these traits gave her an almost demonic air.

But the look vanished just as quickly, replaced by confusion, and Kin straightened.

It took ChiChi a moment to register this turn of events, but she made no comment on it until she had regained her breath and her feet. She also didn't make one until after Kin spoke up.

"Hey, sorry about that last one," she said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I'm just not used to anybody scoring on me like that. Sure was some move you pulled off there."

ChiChi could not speak for another moment more. Her voice would have been as shaky as her body. When she finally trusted the former, she spoke. "Yes, well, I sort of surprised myself with that one. I don't suppose you would mind if I headed back to my cabin now? This match wore me out, I'm afraid."

"I scared you there didn't I?" Unlike any previous times, Kin's tone was not joking about this. She sounded sad, worried even. Why –

"Not really. I was just surprised, that's all," ChiChi lied, feeling oddly compelled to console this woman that she had been beginning to hate mere moments ago. Perhaps Kin had just gotten lost in battle rage? That used to happen to ChiChi's father, who'd had a few spotty, violent years in his past. "Really, I'm just tired. It was a good match."

"Yeah." Kin nodded. "It sure was."

ChiChi kept her walk at a steady, even pace, until she was sure that she was out of Kin's line of sight. Then she hurried her steps as she went below decks to her cabin.

* * *

A spark flew in her head, indicating that one of her neural transmitters must have been knocked loose. That was quite a blow to the head that she had taken. Had she anticipated it, she could have simply blocked that attack, but ChiChi had truly looked down and out; there should not have been time for her to make a move. Perhaps she should have put more stock in the woman's earlier comeback. She'd passed it off as just luck. But nobody could get lucky against her twice in the same battle.

Which probably meant that ChiChi was going to have to be killed.

Kin sighed, leaning back on her bed. The thought she'd just had was not a pleasant one. She rather liked ChiChi; the smaller woman had such a fire about her, a spirit so much like her own. Kindred was the word.

Yesterday, when Kin had first seen the woman, she had thought that she looked familiar. Something had triggered her memory files. They were further triggered when she'd seen her effortlessly toss that man over her shoulder, and were confirmed upon hearing her name.

It wasn't a long file, mostly containing information on a raid of the small town near what remained of the base of Mount Fry Pan, but it was useful nonetheless. Any potential threat to the Red Ribbon Army had to be documented, and as a young girl, ChiChi had managed to defeat many soldiers. Mainly through a crying panic and a special energy shooting helmet. Both were gone now, replaced handily by strength, skill, and rage. Such was to be expected from the daughter of the legendary Ox King, and had been taken into account, just in case of any potential interference to the Red Ribbon Army's plans.

The Red Ribbon Army.

Kin frowned at the thought, more disturbed about it than she would have liked. Her memories of the army, disjointed as they were, were hardly pleasant ones. Those memories were of harsh lights and hard metal tables, seeing her limbs or even her torso cut open. The sight was not as gory as it could have been, for there was very little blood in her, and not much in the way of internal organs. Instead of these things, there were circuits and wires, half spilled out of her while figures in pristine white jackets worked. And those sights had surely been still present even when her consciousness had been suspended, herself endlessly a work in progress.

Her programming had been different at first. What exactly it had been she was no longer sure, but she knew that it was not originally to destroy Son Goku. That had only come about some time later; her files told her that Son Goku had all but decimated the army and had put it into a severe state of decline. In one of her moments of sentience – and these were many, despite the efforts of the white clad scientists – she had wondered how they could afford to keep working on her. There had been some sort of half hope that they would let her go, to drift back to wherever it was that she belonged, for certainly it was not in that laboratory.

The hope had been in vain, of course, and she'd had to endure the work and the endless tests that they had put her through. Sometimes, she was alone in these, but on others she was not. She was neither the first nor the last to undergo such work, and one of the others, a tall thin man with a long black braid, actually seemed to enjoy the tests. And Kin had found that he'd volunteered for this. Truly a madman if she had ever met one.

Kin could not fight off a shudder at this, and abruptly sat up on the bed. The ship rolled smoothly on the waves beneath, but this did nothing to calm her. It was no help to her current dilemma, one she wished that she could avoid.

But she could not flee from this, not as she had fled from the laboratories of the Red Ribbon Army. From those scientists to whom she was only a number, only Android Ten. She was not a machine, or at least not a complete one, and had always felt that she deserved a true name. She had once had one, she was sure, though she no longer remembered it. So she had come up with one on her own, one that was most suitable and she used to this day: Touki Kinzoku.

The scientists had been less than impressed with this, that she had insisted on being called by a true name, and that she would often disobey her orders. One in particular was incensed by this behaviour. The old man had not been among the original scientists that worked on her. He was put on the project much later, after the creator of the android project defected. Kin had almost liked Doctor Flappe; if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd conducted his work upon her, then she would have. He had a little compassion, at least, unlike his replacement, that vile Doctor Gero.

The mere thought of that name prompted Kin to rise to her feet and pace about the room. After Gero, the memories only became worse upon worse. His work was far less than humane, or even human, and came with constant threats of deactivation if she refused to obey orders.

Deactivation. It was one of Kin's greatest fears, terrifying because her consciousness was at the mercy of others. When she was deactivated she floated around in blackness. That, or she dreamed, and if she did, she always preferred the blackness. Her dreams were of a terrible melody of screaming, and always one of the voices was hers, as flames slowly and painfully licked across her body, the agony not stopping until she was activated once more . . .

Shaken, breathing hard, Kin put a hand to her chest, and stopped pacing. She had escaped that place. She had escaped that place before she could be turned completely into a machine, mindless save for when she was deactivated. The only time when she would prefer not to have a mind. That way, the dreams would never come.

But though she still had sentience, some of her programming did take priority. Which was why she was heading for the Tenkaichi Budoukai. From his file, it was clear that Son Goku had a high probability of attending this event as he had attended the past two. While Kin wanted to be free, she could not shake the feeling that somehow the Red Ribbon Army would catch up to her and want to deactivate her for insubordination. If she completed her mission and destroyed Son Goku, then perhaps the army might let her free.

And she did not mind the mission, in truth. What did Son Goku matter to her, anyway? Killing him was a sure means to her freedom. It wasn't like she knew the man, or even met him, much less gotten to like him at all. The kill would be quick and clean, if not simple, and then she could go on with her life.

But the sour note in all this was ChiChi. In spite of herself, Kin liked her, although that temporary glitch that had gotten her to go berserk during their practice match ruled out any sort of friendship. Probably for the best, anyway; she must be with Son Goku, and thus had to be –

Another spark shot through her head. Augh, but that was painful. ChiChi's blow must have knocked many somethings loose in there. Kin shook her head to dispel this sensation, but it only seemed to make it worse. Yet another spark flew. And another. Silently, Kin cursed the fact that the scientists had yet to fit her with damage-repairing circuits before she had escaped from the lab.

The damage might be minimal right now, but who knew how far it could get as the night progressed?

* * *

ChiChi folded a hand over her stomach, thinking that perhaps something had indeed broken in the match against Kin. Or if nothing was broken, something was at the very least bruised. In addition to her knees, that was.

ChiChi hobbled across the cabin, now victimized by an injured calf rather than by the waves. It was late, and she ought to be getting some sleep, but some part of her rebelled against this. She told herself that it was silly, that Kin had been merely lost in battle rage and had not intended to cause as much harm as she did. At least not quite as much. Still, she couldn't dispel this nagging sense of fear in the pit of her stomach, much as she tried not to give into it. She was braver than that. And besides, nothing was going to happen.

Yes, she was just being silly. A little sleep and she would be rational again. She would seek out Kin tomorrow and find out just what the deal was. That seemed like the logical thing to do.

Shaking her head to free itself of the nagging bit of nervousness, ChiChi slid under the covers. And to reassure herself, she patted her left pocket.

* * *

Kami, but the winds had picked up tonight. Was a storm on the horizon? Kin hoped not; that was the last thing she needed right now. All this extra jarring could move about other circuits that may have been loosed in her match against ChiChi, and she did not want the risk of malfunction. Besides, if the ship failed to reach its destination, then she would be unable to complete her mission.

Her mission.

She could start it tonight, if she wanted. ChiChi was given as a possible target, and she indeed seemed like she might cause trouble. Not to mention that while the young woman was capable of pulling off a few surprise moves, she was not particularly skilled, and was far weaker than Kin herself. Physically, the kill would not be that difficult.

Emotionally, it was a problem. One didn't kill a person whom she liked. That basic concept from her former life carried over even now, in her still sentient mind. Not her machine circuitry. Machines did not like anyone. Nor did they hate anyone. They simply did what they were programmed to do. Kin was not a machine, not wholly. She had escaped before that forced metamorphosis had been completed.

And yet that would hinder her here. Making a quick clean kill would probably be for the best, and she could not do that with human emotions getting in the way. She had to rid herself of them.

For a few moments, she questioned the wisdom of starting tonight. It would cause a most unholy commotion on the ship, and perhaps put it at risk of not reaching port. Again, this would quite defeat her purposes. However . . .

However, if she could just keep things quiet, then there would be no problem; the ship was due to arrive on the island the next afternoon, so there was a possibility that she could get away with it, so long as she was careful. The one hitch in that was that she did not know how careful she would be if she purely gave way to her programming; she was programmed as an instrument of battle, and she was not quite sure how much that promoted stealth.

Kin wiped a hand over her face. These thoughts were a drain on her mind and soul. She needed to break them off and come to a solid, final decision. Too much time to think about it, and she would falter. Two minutes. She would give herself that long to make the decision, and she would follow through no matter what it was.

Arguments bounded back and forth inside her brain, following the sparking paths of her damaged circuitry, or even generating them, like a small child waving a sparkler. Alternately, one choice was deemed to be the correct one and then overridden almost immediately by the other. The mind could not decide which one was best.

But abruptly, Kin's internal clock went off, signalling the end of the two minute reprieve that she had granted to herself. And the decision in her head at that very precise second was . . .

So she had to do it. This was the best way for things to work, and the sooner the easier, and the better. She told herself this over and over as she tried to make herself exit her cabin and find the one occupied by ChiChi.

Somehow, though, she could not manage it, and she frowned. Again with the human emotions, trying to prevent her from completing her task. If she wanted to get this done, then she had to shut off that part of herself. It was something that she was able to do consciously, and had done on certain occasions when her consciousness could not bear the testing. But only after she had been deactivated and then reactivated did she regain her sentience. Silently, she prayed that she could become human once again once the task was over.

With these prayers as her last thoughts, Kin closed her eyes, concentrating. And became a machine.

* * *

ChiChi was awakened by the ship jumping violently in the water, and very nearly tumbled out of bed. The winds above must have been picking up through the course of the night. For a brief second, as she had woken up, she had wondered if that thump she had heard was the danger that she had feared coming her way. But she clearly had nothing to worry about. Just the ship jumping, that was all. She would learn to ignore it.

With a yawn, ChiChi returned her head to the pillow, ready for sleep to take her again. But this time it did not. There was no chance.

Another thump, and this time, the sound of wood splintering. ChiChi bolted upright, and quickly rubbed at her sleep filled eyes. She thought for a moment that a pale fist was sticking through the door. This sight vanished quickly, though.

And so did her previous sense of security.

The door burst open, blown completely off its hinges to clatter to the floor. And behind it, elbow still in a striking position was Kin.

Instantly awake, ChiChi jumped out of bed, but did not advance far. Kin's eyes had changed from brown to red, that same terrifying red that she had seen once before. The colour that seemed to signify a loss of control.

ChiChi, now mostly in combat mode, tested her footing. Her calf protested this, and the ship continued to rock, but she was steady. "Kin?" she asked. "What's going on?"

Kin did not speak. Nor did she attack. Instead, she slowly strode into the room, not the picture of confidence, really not the picture of anything at all. There was no emotion on her face, and indeed it was difficult to imagine that there had ever been any at all. If ChiChi had not met her before, she would have believed this to be so.

"Kin, answer me. What are you doing?" ChiChi edged closer to the doorway, never taking her eyes off Kin's stationary form. "You must have something to say to me. What is it? Just say anything."

Still no response. The fear that had been a seed in ChiChi's gut now bloomed, and she knew in an instant that she had to get out of here.

And that instant probably saved her.

Just as she dashed out the doorway, Kin barrelled through it to smash her fist into the wall where ChiChi's head would have been. And that it would gave way under the blow was a testament to the strength of the former. ChiChi charged down the corridors, hurrying toward the stairs to the upper deck. It was clear that whether she liked it or not, she had a real fight on her hands, and the areas below decks were far too confined. She need more room than what they had to offer.

As she reached the steps, she heard a harsh voice shout out behind her. Impulsively, she glanced back – and saw Kin flying toward her, leg extended for what was no doubt a powerful kick.

"Augh!" ChiChi screamed, jumping backward, up a few steps, just before Kin's foot smashed into and partially through the floor. On blind impulse, she ducked under a punch and veritably scampered up the rest of the stairs. She needed that open space more than ever. Kin was a good deal faster than she was, and had a longer reach to boot. The confined space would favour her.

The winds hit ChiChi full force when she finally made it up on deck, nearly knocking her backward. But she turned to face the stairs, and deftly hopped to one side as Kin came shooting up the flight. ChiChi tried a punch to the woman's side, but missed the mark as Kin dogged minutely, and shot her leg out. ChiChi jumped back to evade the blow, but only managed partial success; it still landed lightly in her chest. ChiChi sprung forward with an attack of her own, a knee aimed for her opponent's chin.

This blow connected, throwing Kin backward a few steps, and ChiChi would almost swear she saw a small bluish spark fly off her head. The battle haze must be making her see things.

Kin did not stay staggered for long, though, and came after her once again in a flurry of attacks. One by one ChiChi managed to block or dodge them. She did not know how, and it really did not matter. As long as it happened, it was just fine with her. And while she defended, she continued to talk, to try to end this fight which she had no chance of winning. "Kin, stop this! Don't you even know what you're doing? We can talk out whatever this is about!"

Yet again, no response. Kin's face remained emotionless, her eyes still that frightening red. She did not even give any indication that she had heard. Perhaps she hadn't.

"Kin -- Ugh!" Kin's fist caught her weakened chest once more, and ChiChi dropped to the ground. Over her, Kin stood, a herald of death. There was no hesitation. No mercy. Nothing to stop her now. Kin's hand lifted, straightened into a flat blade. And desperately, hopelessly, ChiChi closed her eyes.

* * *

The machine had won. Its target sat on the ground before it, eyes squeezed shut. Defeated completely, no longer a threat. One more blow would end it all. And part of the machine's mission would therefore be completed. It was logical, and logic was all the machine needed.

So why, the machine wondered – strange even to itself that it could wonder – did it hesitate? Hesitation on a target defied its programming, and what else was there than programming? The answer came from somewhere that there was much beyond it, but the machine did not know what that could possibly be. Surely this was a malfunction, based on damages suffered earlier at the hands of this target before it. Something beyond programming was ludicrous.

The machine forced these strange considerations to a backward file for later evaluation. There was a task to be completed here. And so the machine thrust its upraised hand toward its target.

But the blow did not land.

* * *

When ChiChi realized after several seconds that her body had not been smashed to bits, she opened her eyes. Kin still stood there, arm still raised for a strike, but something was different. At first, ChiChi could not discern what it was. She eventually caught it though. The eyes. They were brown again.

But even that lasted for only a moment. Almost before the change could register, the eyes had once again switched to red, and in desperation, ChiChi reached into her pocket and did what she was hoping she would not have to do.

She pulled out the emergency capsule and pressed the plunger.

A puff of blue smoke, and a long, slender object was in her hand. Without a thought as to what it was, ChiChi raised it in front of her, sensing the coming blow.

Said blow nearly jarred the object from her hands, but she stubbornly held onto it. A tremendous pressure pushed down upon her, and she pushed back with all her strength.

Whether it was her return pushing or a simple decision to try another tack, the resistance on the other end ceased, and ChiChi hurriedly scrambled to her feet, ready for another attack, though her body was crying out for rest. A rest that she would not get. Not until she ended this.

Without waiting for another strike, ChiChi lunged forward with the object in her hand – a six foot long bo staff. Kin batted this aside, moving in for a strike of her own. Moving reflexively – she could not afford another blow to her stomach – ChiChi brought the staff across her front.

The staff absorbed the shock, but there was an alarming creak, the sound of wood being overstressed. In only a few more blows, the staff would shatter as well, and she would not have it as a defence. She had to finish this fight, just knock Kin out before that could happen. Which was sadly easier said that done.

ChiChi ducked under a backhand, and landed a double strike on Kin's legs. The blows staggered Kin a bit, but did not knock her down. In a final sweeping arc, ChiChi swung the staff again, this time taking Kin's legs out from under her. The woman fell onto her back, and ChiChi hesitated for a second before making an overhand strike at her head.

And the hesitation cost her.

Kin's hand shot forward, slashing through the staff like a knife. The length of wood snapped in ChiChi's hand, and she stumbled from the broken momentum, landing on top of Kin's prone body.

Before ChiChi could even react, Kin pushed her off, sending her rolling across the deck. ChiChi rushed to her feet, barely managing to evade a blow that would have punched a hole clear through her chest and instead punched a hole clear through the deck.

But Kin did not stop coming. ChiChi used the broken ends of the staff to ward off her attacks – to save herself the injury that blocking was liable to do to her – as she was continually forced backward. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that they were coming dangerously close to the edge of the ship. ChiChi swallowed. Thoughts of what it would be like to be knocked over the edge into the icy windblown waves below her filled her mind.

Costly thoughts.

One of the broken ends shattered in ChiChi's hand, sending splinters flying across her face – a face that luckily did not get a taste of Kin's fist as it roared to the side. Still, the attack put her off balance, and she staggered backward. Another punch from Kin shattered the other length of wood, and she fell backward onto the railing.

Once more, ChiChi glanced down at the black icy waters below – goodness where was her concentration? She whirled her attention back to Kin just in time to see the other woman's fist shooting toward her. On pure instinct, ChiChi leaned back to evade the blow . . .

And fell over the edge.

ChiChi could not hold back a scream as she involuntarily rolled over the side rail. But, ironically, that motion saved her; she was able to grasp the edge of the ship with one hand. For a second, she breathed a sigh of relief. The waters below her looked more forbidding than ever. The winds tossed them, mercilessly, and blew her hair into her eyes so badly that she could scarcely see. But she very well knew that her problems lay above her. She looked up, saw Kin standing there, expression unreadable.

There was an expression? Perhaps then, there also was hope. "Kin?" ChiChi asked. "Kin, you must stop this. Please just help me up and we can talk."

* * *

The machine looked down. It was the same as a few moments before. Its target was down, defeated, needed only one more strike before it was finished. Yet again, the machine hesitated. And it would not have but for the words the target had spoken.

The machine understood words, was capable of using them, but chose not to often exercise the latter ability. Still, perhaps the target was right. If they were to speak, then maybe she would be able to give it some insight as to how these malfunctions had occurred.

This thought progressed through her circuits, analyzing the possibilities. Determining the best course of action. But all that came through was the orders. The mission. This came above all else according to her files. Destroying this target was part of the mission.

For a moment, the machine considered disregarding the orders. If only for a short while. While the target's pleading gaze was affecting it a trifle, it was more the logic of the situation that dictated this. It could save the creature for the time being, and simply destroy it later, when the information had been provided . . .

But the mission was almost complete as it was. The illogical thing to do would be to hesitate.

So why did it continue to do such a foolish thing? Was it what the target had called it? Kin? That sounded like a human name. But why would the target call the machine this? Machines had no names, just serial numbers; they needed nothing so fancy as the titles that humans gave to themselves. They were above that.

And yet the name sounded familiar somehow, for some reason. Almost felt . . . safe, in a strange sort of way. What comfort would a name bring.? The machine shook its head. The target was merely trying to confuse it. Such was a simple combat strategy, one that had been programmed into it for just this purpose – to avoid being felled by it. This target's tactics would not work.

The machine slowly, deliberately pressed its foot onto the target's fingers.

It was time to end this.

* * *

For a second, just for the briefest fraction of a second, ChiChi had though that Kin was going to listen to her. The eyes had gone brown again, and stayed there longer than the time previous. ChiChi had thought that maybe, just maybe, she had gotten through this time, and that this whole terrifying, confusing ordeal was over.

Perhaps she should not have hoped so hard. Her heart sank, as she saw Kin's eyes turn red once more, any hint of expression melting away to nothingness. And Kin's foot fell upon her desperately grasping fingers, pressing hard, trying to force her to let go. To let go and fall to her death.

Oh, and those fingers wanted to let go, how they so wanted to. It was so much easier than enduring the pain sharply shooting through them. But the rest of her body did not share this impulse. It wanted to live. ChiChi wanted to live.

And she realized, suddenly, sadly, that it was either Kin's life or hers. There was no middle ground. Not any more.

While she had long since been prepared to fight, ChiChi had rarely thought that she would have to kill one day. She had thought of fighting as only tournament battles, for why would she get into battles otherwise? Killing had hardly entered her mind. And on the rare occasions that it had, she had been convinced that she would not be able to do such a thing. Ever.

And now she was faced with this awful choice. Live or die. Kill or be killed. She knew what she had to do.

With a supreme effort, ChiChi reached up with her free hand, and grasped Kin's ankle – the ankle attached to the foot that the other woman had pressed over her hand. This time, she did not allow herself to hesitate, and gave a mighty tug.

It did not work exactly the way she intended it to; instead of causing Kin to fall backward so that she could drag her off, it pulled her forward, smashing through the side rail. And Kin tumbled over the edge as well.

But not into the waters. ChiChi gasped as she felt a powerful hand grip her ankle, and looked down to see Kin's fingers digging into the flesh there. And the pull they exerted . . . It was not merely dead weight. No, there was some extra force behind it.

Kin was trying to pull ChiChi down with her.

Instinctively, ChiChi's free hand shot up to grip the deck in order to stabilize her. She kicked her foot desperately, trying to shake off Kin's grasp, but to no effect. Above, her fingers slipped a little, only finding half purchase now.

ChiChi glanced downward once more, readying her free leg. With careful aim and all the strength she could gather, she jammed her foot down on Kin's head.

And this time, blue sparks did fly; they had not been ChiChi's imagination as she had thought before. They were every bit as real as she was. But she did not have time to wonder about this; Kin's grasp had loosened, but not broken.

ChiChi's fingers slipped again, only the tips now kept her from a fall.

She drove her foot down on Kin's head a second time, and was able to feel a split second of relief when the grip loosened even more, and she was able to kick her ankle free. She caught a brief glimpse of something before the fingers of one had slipped off the edge completely, and she shot that hand back up just as the other lost its hold.

ChiChi hung there for a moment, panting heavily, put into a state of near shock. But a persistent ache in her arm drew her attention back to the world, and she swung her free hand up onto the deck. Strenuously, she hauled herself back onto the ship.

And she sat there, breathing hard, eyes wide, hair a plaything for the wind as passengers and crew alike swarmed about, wondering what had happened, and discussing repairs for the ship. She knew all this, could understand every word being spoken around her, but they were far away from her. From her mind. Though aware of all she saw and heard, that particular aspect of her was in the past, just a moment ago.

A moment ago, when she had finally kicked Kin off of her ankle. She had caught sight of the woman's face as she plummeted into the dark seas below, and one particular aspect of it haunted her more than anything else: the eyes. They had been brown.

What had happened? Truly, she wished she knew.

* * *

It was a relief to finally be off that ship. She had never been so glad of anything in her life, not even what had brought her to it in the first place.

ChiChi pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind as she hurried off the pier. Such a dark thing as her voyage should not be dwelt upon. She had a future to look forward to, and a much happier thing it was than her recent past. A husband and a family awaited her. Yes, best not to dwell on dark things. Just to concentrate on getting a room in a hotel tonight so that she might prepare for the Tenkaichi Budoukai tomorrow.

Still, ChiChi could not keep herself from stopping, turning back to face the sea. People rushed about on various ships, preparing for unloading or departures, but that held no interest for her. All of her attention was focused singularly on the water.

She could not fathom what had happened with Kin. Some colossal loss of control, to be sure, but the cause of it was a mystery to ChiChi. And by far the worst thought of all, was that Kin was in control of herself when she'd fallen from the ship. The red eyes were the insanity; the brown eyes were the control. It had just been a hair too late.

"I only did what I had to do," she reminded herself aloud. "There was no other option."

The reminder consoled her a bit, though not completely. But she was sure that she would get over this in time. All she needed was time. She had plenty of that.

ChiChi pressed a hand to her ribs, still bruised from her battle. Her real battle, one that she had though she would never have to fight in her life. She had only wanted a little self defence, and the capability of a tournament fighter. Nothing more than that. She had never desired that rite of passage that would mark her as a warrior. Perhaps a part of her did, but only a part. But she'd had it now, and it would always be a piece of her. Maybe, in the long run, that was not such a bad thing.

She had to believe that, or this experience could overwhelm her. She had too much strength, too much pride in herself to ever let such a thing happen. Perhaps it would still bother her in years to come, but it would not consume her. Only the weak were consumed.

ChiChi took her hand from her chest, and shook her head. Enough of all this. She had a tournament to prepare for.