Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. Please insert the usual disclaimer here.

Author's notes: Well I couldn't believe it two reviews for one chapter and here I was thinking none of you were still reading. Thanks. I know that this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one but the next chapter will be longer. I had seemingly endless problems with the previous chapter, which is why it is in 'html' format we'll see what happens with this chapter. The other thing is I haven't actually seen the first fifty odd episodes of DBZ, so everything in these chapters is guess work and hearsay. Also, for those of you who haven't noticed I have rewritten chapters 1 to 8, I'd love some feed back. I'm taking about a week between chapters now, but I think the quality is much better. Please keep reading and reviewing!

"Double quotations indicate conversations."

'Single quotations in italics indicate thoughts.'

Glossary:

Ohayo: Good morning

Baka: Idiot

Kuso: generally damn or shit

Beneath a lacklustre sun and with his friends around him. Son Gokou died. His friends remained silent in their grief. Many tears were shed, but none by Maya. There were no tears left with in her, her heart bore its grief, silent and dry. For moments before Gokou's death Maya had seen the grey shadow of grief circling, seen it as a grey predatory form. It padded silent, unnoticed in ever decreasing circles, and waited for an opportunity. The senshi gazed at each other in level disbelief; for surely Gokou was some how safe from death, before now he had always seemed so. Maya was beyond disbelief only a humbling mixture of angry and regret filled her. 'Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis, In nomine patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.' I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. The last rights ran through her mind she did not know why, habit perhaps. Her heart thudded, pain flared out from her traumatised hands, but still she did not speak. Even Kamikaze remained silent beneath his tree.

Maya approached the big horse her eyes filled with worry. He greeted her quietly brushed his muzzle against her shoulder. Maya ran her hands down Kamikaze's legs and was relieved to find that they were smooth and cool. A flicker of fear had filled her, to gallop a half fit horse so far was asking for trouble. Sprained tendons, damaged muscles or worse azoturia, he would have been urinating blood for days. Maya's relief intensified as she pinched her way down the stallion's spine. Kamikaze peered at her the tips of his pricked ears touched. He had sweated heavily and now it was dry it had left scurfy white ridges on his coat. Maya could hear the soft tinkle of water at some distance. Kamikaze needed to be watered and so she led him back through the trees towards the stream. He walked quietly his handsome head down nostrils flared, ears flicking.

Kamikaze dipped his black muzzle into the shallow, clear, free flowing water. While Maya wrestled with a volatile mixture of anger, guilt, grief, and sharp aching regret. She rested a hand on Kamikaze's withers. The reins looped down to the water's surface from her fingers, which closed gently around the buckle. Maya sighed and walked out into the water with the stallion. Kamikaze blew at the surface, small ripples fanned out from his nostrils on the water's clear surface. He lifted a front leg and pawed a fine spray of ice cold water plumed from his sharp black hoof. The stream flowed around and between Kamikaze's legs, his long, silky, black tail fanned out on the water's glassy surface. The sluggish breeze tugged the loose wisps of Kamikaze's mane and Maya plait.

Maya closed her eyes, tried to block out the image of Gokou's final demise. She wanted no part of any of it. So much pain and suffering and all of it unnecessary. 'If only, if I'd pushed on if I had flown.' The words lingered in her mind. Her heart ached 'will humanity never learn, maybe we are in capable of doing so. When will the blood shed be enough?' She sighed nature would take care of the scars on the land, the blood too would disappear but it would take time. Time however did nothing to erase the images that filled her mind. Gokou's last agonised moments would stay with her as a reminder of her own failure to act. Behind her, she sensed Yajarobe and heard his quick step.

He positioned himself on the bank arms folded one hand resting on his katana hilt. Yajarobe peered at Maya somewhat uncertainly. Only her slightly rounded shoulders gave any indication of grief. 'I wonder if she's angry at me for stopping her?'

"How many people have you killed?" Yajarobe watched to see Maya's reaction. She was outwardly undisturbed, and gave Yajarobe a rueful smile.

"Enough." Her eyes had a strange glow as if she were mocking them both. The stallion shuffled forward, he drew Maya along with him in to deeper water. Kamikaze huffed into the stream waves pulsed out across the moving water like a cross current. Yajarobe grunted his eyes narrowed. He wanted to know, exactly who she was, what she was capable of. He gazed at Maya, 'I still don't know her, and now I'm not sure that I can trust her. She never gives me a straight answer.'

"That's not an answer." Maya looked amused. She walked forward so Kamikaze could stand in the middle of the stream where the water was knee deep. Yajarobe waited impatiently.

"I've never killed anyone who wasn't dieing and I'm not going to start now so you can stop being offended. I can't help it if you don't like it, it's the truth and that's all there is to it." She sighed. Yajarobe looked offended because he was, he couldn't really help it. 'I know better really, she's a crafty bitch and when I push her, she yanks the rug out from under my feet. Kuso!' Maya gripped the reins close to the bit and pulled Kamikaze out off the stream and on to the grass. Pointedly ignoring Yajarobe's irritated glare.

Yajarobe remained silent as they walked back to the rest of the senshi. He glanced at Maya and suddenly noticed her raw ripped palms. The stallion walked quietly too tired to dance about, so the wounds remained closed. As they approached the battle ground Kamikaze snorted, sharp gun shot snorts. The senshi watched them approach and Maya felt a familiar twinge of guilt. 'Too late. I was just too late, if I'd gotten here a few minutes soon it might have made a difference. Too late.' They really were the two saddest words in the English language. Troubled she stoked Kamikaze's black crest and remained silent. The other one the one like Kami had gone. So had Gohan.

"Where's Gohan?" The young men wheeled and looked at her with strange mask less faces. Guilt and distress burned in their eyes and was evident in every movement.

"Piccolo took him, we tried to stop him but . . ." Yamcha spoke up in the face of a growing uncomfortable silence. His words hung in the air between them the truth remained unspoken. Maya eyes glittered 'kuso!'

"I'll take Kamikaze back then I'll go look for him." She looked pale and exhausted but unfailingly determined. She flicked the reins and turned the stallion around.

"It's alright Maya we'll look, we'll look now. Okay." Maya nodded.

"I'll come by tomorrow and see if you had any luck." Everyone nodded in assent.

Kuririn decided that Maya needed an escort back to the beach. He said nothing at all, but had fallen in step beside her. The trees opened out on to the cliff top. The steep track Kamikaze had broached was clearly visible in the pale sunlight. It ran between the grey rocks like a thin jagged scar. And steep, so steep you couldn't see how anyone could get a toe hold.

"You came up there!" Kuririn said his voice rose in astonishment. Maya, herself was surprised. She hadn't realised how steep the track was.

"Apparently so." Kuririn looked up at her in wide eyed amazement. He stood near her and together they looked down at the almost vertical path.

The rocks were hard and slippery under her feet. Rough flakes of rock lay in shattered solitude, bathed in exotic hues by the slowly setting sun. Their hard edges faded became as soft and beautiful as the petals on a fully bloomed rose. Behind her, the trees whispered their sad words of longing. Waves slipped up the shore to their unchanging, ageless drumbeat. The world, the earth was untroubled by the frantic grief and guilt of her paltry human heart. For centuries uncounted humanity had called to their God, usually he remained silent. But the earth was untroubled, it remained as it was a large ever moving mass of life, light and water a place of beauty and hope.

No tears fell from Mayas eyes though her heart ached in silent accusation. He had been young and yet those who were younger perished each day. She had buried many with her own two hands. Many had she released from the burden of slow agonising death. And for many had she wept and bled. Then there was Gohan, for whom she had searched, only giving up only as the light faded and made the search impossible. Still the grief remained, coloured by regret and guilt. One day it would become an insupportable load, but for now, she was strong. Strong enough to with stand it all.

Maya ran her hands over the abrasive stone reopening her hands. She wondered at the riotous beauty of day's end. Her blood tinged the pale rock an even more vibrant hue. Her hair vivid and free fluttered about her burnt red by the sun's glow. Thin and wiry her tired body soaked up the last of the sun's life giving rays. Being physically young had changed nothing. The wolves of her past still pursued her.

(2002)

In the end, she had accomplished nothing; Gokou had not been spared. Some where in the wilderness Gohan might still live. She sighed who was she to defy the rules of nature. The changing light gave her skin a pleasant glow her eyes shimmered, she was beautiful. But Maya did not see. She still saw herself as a middle aged woman with no faith and little hope, from a past beyond salvage.