Chapter Twenty-One
Goten and Trunks jumped into the ring and looked to Zarah who was still under the tree.
"Are you ok to fight?" Trunks crossed his arms arrogantly, "If Pan injured you too much, there's no shame in bowing out."
Zarah narrowed his eyes and moved forward only to be stopped by Sasoli's hand.
"Don't forget your mission," Sasoli's eyes were smoldering, "Especially after you cheated me out of my fight."
"I had to do something," his eyebrow twitched, "You were fighting much too seriously."
Her lips tightened and she released her hold on him in defeat.
"Are we going to fight today?" Trunks arched a brow at his cousins.
Zarah's lip curled, "I'm good to go."
"Then let's do it!" Goten punched his fist in the air and whooped.
Zarah smirked and made his way through the crowd and pulled Pan to the side to whisper in her ear. "Stand behind everyone else, no matter what."
"What? Why?"
"Just do it. I need a way to get disqualified." He breathed into her ear before continuing on his way.
Pan just watched him go, puzzled.
Bra appeared at her elbow, "What did he say?"
Pan shrugged, "Something with tradition or something."
Maron sighed as she watched all the guys give each other measuring looks. They never changed, she could still see them as little boys doing the exact same thing. Of course, they had all filled out nicely and if everything went to plan, Goten would belong to Bra just as surely as Zarah belonged to Pan. Trunks was the only one 'unclaimed.'
"Are you guys going to fight in this century?!" Sasoli demanded, mock serious.
Maron glanced at the spy and realized they, too, were alone or 'unclaimed.' She felt her brows crease as she wondered how this would all end. Who, if anyone, they would end up with?
She turned her gaze to Pan who stood behind them. Personally, she would have never guessed the youngest member of the Son family to end up united with her cousin or that her cousin would look up from an invention long enough to notice a woman that way.
Her eyes returned to the ring to find the boys in their positions. The fight had begun.
Vegeta raked a hand through his hair, frustrated with his mate. He had finally found her under their daughter's bed and had had to drag her to their room for questioning. Thus far, she had been uncooperative. Also, his daughter's ki signature had lowered as if it had never risen but he couldn't check on Bra, if her life wasn't in immediate danger, until Bulma was taken care of. Trunks' power had also increased slightly before lowering again.
"Bulma," he demanded as softly as was possible for him, "Tell me what's wrong?"
Bulma kept her mouth sealed shut as she stubbornly stared at the wall. She had to keep him occupied for at least a couple of hours and only two had passed. She may be an
expert at reading Vegeta but her readings weren't too encouraging. He was becoming impatient with her, was almost to the point to where he would stomp off and try again later but she had a plan that would thwart his escape attempt.
"Bulma . . ."
Her head snapped toward him when his voice trailed off. His eyes were fixed on the wall but were unfocused in a look she recognized from growing up with Goku. She immediately burst into tears and threw herself at him.
Vegeta fumbled but caught her, his complete attention on her again.
"It hurts," she clutched his shirt in a grip she hoped seemed desperate.
"What hurts? You're injured?" His senses snapped back to her, searching for any irregularity with her energy.
She nodded pitifully.
"Where?" He demanded.
"My heart," she answered solemnly and laid a hand over the tender organ.
Vegeta just stared at her incredulously for a moment before putting a hand to the bridge of his nose and exhaling sharply.
"Bulma-"
"You don't care," she managed to burst into tears again.
Vegeta watched her helplessly but refused to relinquish his hold on her.
"Bulma, tell me what's wrong," he ordered softly.
She just continued to weep.
Ava huffed annoyed with her current position or she should say their current position. Her mate and herself were tangled in submission moves in such a way that if either gave an inch than the other would dominate. The problem was neither would relent and the result was that they were both stuck pinning the other to the ground in a bizarre yet complex blend of arms and legs.
"This is juvenile," Ava tried to blow the hair from her eyes in vain.
"Then give up," 17 grinned as tried to assist his wife in her endeavor but only managed to blow more into her face.
"Stop helping me!" She snarled at him when her sixth sense went off. "Zarah's power level went up. . ."
17 groaned in frustration. This was fun and all but he didn't know much longer he could hold her back. Unless . . .
"Ava," his quiet voice caught her attention the way it always did, "He's fine."
"Of course, he's fine," her chin went up, "I just would like to check on his progress."
17 nodded, he knew the logical way wouldn't work, "Looking for some tips?"
He swallowed the grin and watched her innocently went she went still.
"Excuse me?" Her left eyebrow twitched.
"Did you fart?" He pretended to take a sniff of the air.
"No," her entire being was vibrating with a forced calm, "I meant, what are you suggesting? Are you suggesting that I need to take fighting lessons from my son?"
17 turned his eyes to the sky and chewed his bottom lip, "Well, your technique has been off lately and-"
Later, he would reflect about his choice of words and be grateful that he had metal alloy reinforcing his skeleton because only pure rage could have broken his hold on her and only pure momentum could have allowed her to fling him off like a bug. The only thing that kept her from flying off was rage and the thought that she would show him just how rusty her technique was by demonstrating it on him. At this point in time, however, he was just grateful she had never ascended past super saiyan.
Chichi gave her husband a warning glare as he wondered to close to the table again. She had been cooking all morning, waiting for some kind of sign to let her know when to distract Goku. So far, no go. The table was so full of food that it was on the verge of breaking and her husband was all too eager to relieve it of it's weight problem.
"Come on, Chichi," Goku was nearly whining, "You haven't let me eat all day. I'm hungry."
He stood in a puddle of his own drool.
"I'm not done cooking yet," she answered shortly and continued to stir a large pot of stew. She was running out of ideas of what to cook and room to put the food.
An almost forgotten sense went off in her head and she knew it was time. She turned to find her husband starring off in space so she said the only thing that could possibly keep him there.
"You can eat now, Goku."
The three warriors were poetry in motion, or would be if poetry could be that wild, violent, and so stimulating to watch. There were simply no words to describe how they moved or how graceful those movements were . . .
The only thing that was certain was that Zarah had the advantage. He had grown up training in group fights of three and four with his family active participants at least three times a week. Trunks and Goten had grown up training in solitude or with the maximum of one partner.
And it was for these reasons that Trunks and Goten became a team against him.
Zarah would have grinned had he the time but, with the joint effort against him, it took all he had to both dodge and attack his opponents. After all, this was standard routine, the only challenge was he had never fought with them in a group before and couldn't predict how they would attack together.
Duck, dodge, kick, kick, block, punch, guard, uppercut, block . . .
Shit, Zarah tasted blood in his mouth and eyed Goten with respect. The Son had caught him off guard. He had expected Trunks to lead on the attack while the 'spy' would try to jump in when he could. He hadn't been this wrong since he had thought babies were created in laboratories at the age of eight.
Instead, Goten was the aggressor while Trunks was more strategic in his attacks.
Zarah sucked his bottom lip absently as he watched Goten try to circle around him while Trunks tried to keep his attention by delivering devastating punches. Zarah kept his sixth sense trained on the other saiyan and gave Trunks what he wanted.
When Goten was close enough, Zarah grabbed the kick went for him and swung the president into his best friend.
This happened in a matter of seconds.
The friends bounced hard with Goten taking the brunt but Trunks had too much momentum and bounced again on his butt.
He let out an undignified yelp.
The fight stumbled to a halt.
Goten and Zarah lowered their fists, which were half an inch away from the other's face, to look at Trunks questioningly.
Trunks was red as he got to his feet and rubbed his bottom.
Sasoli was the first to put two and two together. She burst into laughter and nudged Maron. Bra's revelation followed and she turned to wink at Maron.
"You must have kicked him really hard."
Maron turned surprised eyes to Trunks before giggling into her hand. Pan chuckled at the president who was crossing his arms sulkily while the guys howled with laughter.
"It's not that funny!" Trunks informed them coldly only for the volume of laughter to increase.
"Bulma, tell me what is injured!"
Bulma cringed as her husband stood above her in righteous fury. He had even tried to strip her in order to find the source of her pain.
"All right," she kept a firm grip on her shirt, "I'll tell you."
His anger faded and he sat next to her to wait.
"It's . . ."
He leaned closer to her.
". . .my heart."
Vegeta's head dropped into his hands in consternation.
Fed up, Trunks stomped up to his laughing opponents and, after careful deliberation, punched Zarah in the mouth towards Goten. The Son fell back into the rhythm of the fight quickly and followed up Trunks' punch with one of his own.
Zarah was too amused to be mad at himself for not paying attention. In fact, this was a ideal time to leave the tournament.
Trunks threw him over his shoulder.
Zarah barely landed on his feet. He purposely, well semi-purposely, tittered dangerously close to the edge though the position was one hundred percent calculated, he needed to be facing Pan for this to work.
Goten swooped in for the kill.
Perfect, Zarah made sure Goten saw him flick his eyes to his mate, Now!
He let his draw and guard drop.
The punch connected solidly and he was knocked to the ground outside the ring.
A stunned silence prevailed.
Zarah leaped to his feet and stomped over to Pan who had been rushing to him.
"How could you?!"
Pan was perplexed at his sudden anger and opened her mouth to ask only for him to interrupt.
"You're supposed to be loyal to me!"
"But what-"
"Don't act innocent! You flashed me so your Uncle could knock him out!"
There was more than one gasp.
"I did what!" Her face rivaled a tomato.
Zarah stepped closer to her and spoke so only she could hear him, "Pan, play along."
"Play along," she hissed at him, "Your sleeping in the cave!"
Zarah pouted, "Pan . . ."
Their home consisted of a capsule house inside a cave, a compromise between two people who grew up in vastly different environments. For while, Pan had grew up in the relative wilderness, Zarah's family was the wilderness. She had grown up in a house, sometimes in the forest and sometimes in the city; he had spent his entire adult life in a cave with his parents with periodical visits to the city to work.
Their union had been the first of many changes for both of them.
So while he would not mind sleeping outside their house in the cave, he did mind that she would not be joining him there.
Her death glare stopped any further protests from his lips.
"Why would I be loyal to you?" She announced finally, loudly, and clearly before she left him alone to join the girls.
Ok, maybe that worked a little too well, he sighed and sat at the base of the same tree that had sheltered him earlier.
Pan gave the girls a frosty glare, she had learned from her husband, that dared them to say anything. They didn't, though, Sasoli smirked before turning away.
"And then there was two."
Chichi was in a race against time.
She had to keep Goku's plate full so he wouldn't instant whatever to their son because she knew as soon as he finished his food, he would be gone. She had almost lost the first round to concern but, luckily, the lure of her home cooked meals won.
She wiped the sweat from her brow as she just handed the finished pot of stew to her husband. She watched him with a certain amount of pride, only her Goku was capable of putting that much away.
Exasperation filled her as he drank her stew like it was a small glass of water.
The only thing she wished was that he didn't eat it so fast. She dashed back to the stove and checked the third pot of rice. She was going to need it soon.
Trunks and Goten turned to face each other and slowly sank into a stance. This was it. The winner of this fight would face Bra for the win. This would be a fight to be remembered.
"And I'll have you know . . ." Ava paused in her tirade and released her bloody husband.
17 hit the ground with a sickening thump but he still managed to sit up. "What is it?"
"Zarah's not fighting anymore," she bit her lip in concentration, "They're fine."
"Thank god," 17 mumbled under his breath.
"What?" She turned to him curiously, her tail curled behind her in a question mark.
"You're good," 17 got to his feet, "I think you've gotten stronger."
"Really," she smiled pleased.
"Really," he rubbed his arm where she had grabbed him. He couldn't believe it, he was going to bruise. He never bruised!
"17," Ava was there suddenly, "Does it hurt?"
"Yes," he pouted and wiped the gash on his cheek.
"Good," her smile brightened.
17 backed away from his wife's approach cautiously. He wasn't scared of her, he just didn't know what she was going to do. So when his back hit the wall of their cave, he didn't panic. She smoothed a hand over his cheek before moving in to kiss him as she trapped him between the wall and her body.
"If you ever stop me from flying to our offspring's' aid again, I'll kill you."
"You mean you'd try," 17 remarked dryly, though he was more affected by her kiss than he let on.
She just nuzzled her face against his neck. "Now, let's see how hurt you really are."
The audience was completely absorbed. Trunks was by far the more experienced and graceful fighter of the two but, whatever technique Goten lacked, he now made up in brute strength.
For while group fighting could be exciting, one on one was more of an art.
Every blow was met and every kick was blocked, except for those delivered in skill or just plain dumb luck.
All in all, this was the type of fight every saiyan lived for.
"Trunks is losing," Bra's forehead was creased in concern.
"Goten has increased in strength," Sasoli admitted with respect in her voice.
Maron didn't say anything as she watched the fight intently, amazed that she could still see them at their speeds, though an inkling of worry eased up her spine.
"Uncle Goten has been training," Pan remarked absently.
"That explains it," Sasoli nodded to herself, "Trunks has not."
"He could still win," Maron spoke for the first time as she tore her eyes from the match, "Strength isn't everything."
Bra's eyes narrowed, "No, but Goten has more than strength on his side."
"I agree," Sasoli laid a hand on Bra's shoulder for allegiance. She was just a tad hesitant that Bra would reject the claim.
Bra stiffened, her most dreaded cousin had offered her an olive branch of sorts and, knowing her cousin, it would probably be the last. So, she had two choices, accept, and bury all past resentment, or decline, and remain enemies with her forever.
Sasoli showed no reaction when Bra covered her hand before removing it. Bra had accepted her offer but, by moving her hand, she signaled she was not quite ready to get that close. That was fine with Sasoli, it would take her time as well to adjust from foe to friend.
Maron was oblivious to the exchange and had long since returned her attention to the fight. She had a feeling that they were right but she couldn't help but hope that Trunks would be the victor.
Pan was also intent on the fight but her mind wasn't so focused on it. Her husband might have been a genius but he was still a dumb ass.
Goten and Trunks had locked arms and were striving to out kick the other.
"How long have you been training?" Trunks felt sweat dripping down the sides of his face and pool in the base of his back.
"I told you," Sweat beaded on his upper lip, "Since-"
His head snapped back. Trunks had found a gap in his defense and used it to kick him in the face.
Realizing his arms were still locked with Trunks', he the motion to flip his friend over his head. He arched his back into the movement and used his own weight to slam Trunks that much harder into the floor. When their arms unlocked, Goten used his friend as a springboard and flipped away.
Trunks coughed, he had been effectively smashed and his already tender midsection was screaming in agony. He only barely rolled out of the way of Goten's follow up attack.
"Wait," he groaned, "I can't . . . I give."
"You give?" Goten stopped in mid-motion, the surprise apparent in his voice. He lowered his foot from where he was going to stomp on Trunks' stomach.
Trunks gave him a serene smile, "Maron, messed me up more than I thought."
Goten just laughed as he helped his best friend up.
"That's what you get."
"Yeah," Trunks chuckled weakly, "Maron!"
The blond jumped at the sound of her name but met his eyes steadily.
"Will you take my name of the chart?"
"Sure," Maron nodded.
"Thanks," Trunks eased out of the ring gingerly and made his way to Zarah's tree. "Good luck, Goten!"
Goten nodded his thanks, eager to pull in the win, when Bra entered the ring. He swallowed hard and all the good tension in his body drained. He was going to have to face Bra for the win.
"Are you actually going to fight me Goten?" Emotions swirled in her eyes as the familiarity of the situation hit her. His answer would determine everything. Whether or not, they would be together, if he would be worthy in her father's eyes, and the final balm on age old grudges.
"Will you fight or forfeit?"
Goten licked his lips nervously but his voice was as steady as it would ever be.
"I will fight."
End Chapter Twenty-one