The snarling cry of the brunet cyborg rung out across the open field, a mere hot second after the sickening crack of skin against skin had echoed loud into the quiet winter sky around them. Eighteen strode over to her brother, who was now coming up from his embarrassing sprawl in the snow, with a deep grin worked into her features. She glanced at her upheld fist, slowly opening and closing it, a thorough feeling of satisfaction running through her blood. She tossed her hair back, laughing, unable to suppress her childlike glee, and looked back to her brother, now standing and trying to hide his hurt pride as he made his way back to his sister.
Since she'd gotten her "upgrade," as Seventeen put it, her brother had been taking her out to spar with him as soon as she'd passed the stabilization phase. Just about every day, they'd go out into the forest behind their beautiful abandoned mansion, to the clearing they were standing in now, and fight in the snow.
He went easy on her at first. That was to be expected. But they'd come in every morning with the untouched snow laid out before them, and leave afterwards with huge areas of it seared away, mixed with debris, and generally torn asunder. In the evenings, it would snow again to cover it all up (though sometimes it continued snowing right into the next morning -- something Eighteen came to love), and they would return the next day to a fresh arena.
Seventeen was a capable teacher. Once the nanos had established themselves in her, there was little else Eighteen had to do, though there were a number of new programs Seventeen had installed along with the nanomachines that were meant to be accessed. Of course, basic use manuals had been uploaded to her cyborg brain (which of course also received an upgrade), and she read them all, but there was a certain finesse to be gained when using her new abilities in real time during their sessions.
Eighteen had all sorts of new goodies thanks to her brother. Her eyes, which had long since been augmented, were now outfitted with several new capabilities, again thanks to the nanos and her new applications. Before, she was only capable of storing the most basic of information, later to be accessed and projected onto the back of her retina. Now she was able to gather multiple streams of data, on all kinds of subjects, and use them concurrently, as she was fighting. The world was a beautiful place.
"Are you jealous?" She grinned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her left ear. Seventeen tugged up his jeans with a scoff, giving her a light shove as they finally met.
"What would I be jealous of, E?" His steady blue eyes focused on her a little too intensely for Eighteen to take his lighthearted tone seriously. She gave him a look and laughed, walking past with a shrug.
"Looks like you are jealous. You didn't expect me to be this good this fast, and now you're wishing you didn't give me so much cool stuff. Not all at once, at least..."
Her brother coughed up a laugh from somewhere in his chest, looking off to the side quickly after, as though the cough was to blame. Eighteen snickered and he looked back to her, his hands falling loosely onto the bones of his narrow hips. She reached out grinning and tapped his cheek.
"What's it matter if your nanos are better than mine? It's only fitting that my twin sister be as great as I am. If she's a little stronger, that's okay with me," he said, finishing with a soft grin.
"Is that so?" Eighteen said, her own arms falling akimbo.
"Yeah, It's really okay," he responded in a smooth voice. A single blonde eyebrow popped up. Seventeen's lips pulled taut in a smirk. "Cause I'll just make better ones for myself." Eighteen balked at her brother's words, throwing her arms up.
"You little shithead! I should've known you'd say something stupid like that!"
"Little shithead!" Seventeen cried, bracing himself against hits and halfheartedly blocking against her slaps. But his sister was growing aggressive and he was getting tired quickly of being hit in the face, which seemed to be her favorite area of attack. He figured it had something to do with how she always called him a pretty boy, and that was just a tad vexing. Cause he was pretty. What did she have against that?
Eighteen was starting to get frustrated now that her brother decided to really defend. He kept putting up his arms and redirecting her punches (to hell with the slapping, huh... though the sound was more satisfying), even though she was starting to get serious and use more of her strength, which was on par with her brother's, if not a touch more (praise be to the nanos). But Seventeen actually had techniques and a style, whereas his sister currently only had brute force and whatever she thought might work.
Seventeen had offered and she'd thought about downloading some martial arts programs, but they were only programs, reference information. She'd have to learn all that just like any normal human...though she did have the advantage of her nanos yet again, which, as cells, could retain a memory of movement. This wasn't exactly amazing -- humans did the same thing normally -- but Eighteen could do it at an accelerated rate. And learning fast in this continuously mysterious world was definitely an advantage.
Right now, though, Seventeen had her in his guard, and that was definitely a disadvantage. Usually, if you were good enough, Seventeen said, you could be done with your match quickly. But if it wasn't, you had to be prepared to go to the ground, just in case. Cause saiyans were pretty good grapplers, which was something Seventeen had learned the hard way. Most saiyans were pretty good at any kind of fighting, he had said to her with a sneer. This didn't surprise Eighteen; the handful of saiyans she'd known her now dreamlike memories had all been strictly fighters as well. Warriors, even, though she wouldn't relate that to her brother.
She'd have to get pretty good pretty fast if she was going to fight like her brother, she realized. Sitting around the house reading comics and catalogues or getting a normal, tedious human job were really her only other options. So Eighteen was glad when her brother so easily encouraged her to become one of these "tournament" fighters like him.
She didn't quite know why she thought he wouldn't let her join him. Maybe it was because of the weeks he'd spent pampering her, or the fact that he didn't really talk about what he did while he was out. Then again, maybe he was hesitant to tell her his "work" stories because of all the weird arguments they'd had over it before. It didn't really matter now. She was happy he'd so readily opened up this side of himself to her.
Although, right now, the fact she still hadn't passed his guard after five minutes was pretty disheartening. She could tell he wasn't even being serious either. Yeah, definitely have some more grappling time with dear brother. At least with standup fighting you could manage to do okay without any real moves...but that sort of thing didn't fly with ground fighting. You could get manhandled so easily...or at least with Seventeen. And this was him just messing around?
Too lost in her thoughts, Eighteen found she was on her way to getting armbarred a moment too late to have a chance of getting her arm out of it. Seventeen snickered at her, teasing as she grabbed her own hand to try and keep her trapped arm from slipping deeper into her brother's bite. For a moment it worked, but eventually Eighteen had to give up and tap out. She rolled off her back and sat up with a frown. Seventeen, who surely would've been winded if such a thing were possible, smiled brightly at his sister, sitting up himself to pat her on the back.
"You did good this time," he said reassuringly. Eighteen gave him a cynical look.
"Getting armbarred again is considered good with you?"
"No," Seventeen smiled. (She was cute like this...) "But you're picking up on things quickly. You get noticeably better every time." Eighteen shot him another look. "And no, I mean even a normal person could tell," he said, a little chuckle coming out.
Eighteen sighed and flopped backwards into the cool snow. She was only wearing a long sleeved shirt and some thin black workout pants, but the cold of the snow was so subdued against her, it felt like she had a winter jacket on. Oh, the glorious freedom of these nanos! In a fit of glee she laughed out into the sky, kicking up her feet.
Seventeen, who was sitting back on his palms now, smiled at his sister. He didn't remember a time when she seemed so ... innocent? No, that wasn't the word he wanted. It felt like she'd broken out of her shell or that she'd only been half alive before (which was technically true). She wasn't an entirely different girl, but she just wasn't the same as he remembered; she was ... sweet, and less fraught with such intense passiveness. In a way it was intimidating, this refreshed version of her, because he could almost sense the independence steadily brewing. And though he knew it was always there, he wasn't used to it. Not yet. Nevertheless, he was very pleased he was able to make her so happy ... his sister. Back together again.
Eighteen had since surrendered herself to the chill calm of the snow beneath while her brother collected his thoughts. Both their sets of clear, snow-shadow eyes were up on the blue sky above, its wispy white clouds hanging dead in the air.
"I'm glad you're back," Seventeen said finally. Eighteen sat up slightly to look at her brother, brow gently perked in curiosity.
"What makes you say that?"
"What doesn't?" he said with a quiet, lopsided smile. Her eyes softened.
"Do you think about that a lot?" she asked, her voice a gentle smoothness.
"Every day," he replied, his gaze steady on her. "Why? You don't?"
"I do ... But I wonder if we think about the same thing."
"What ... do you mean?" Eighteen looked back up to the sky shrugging her shoulders at her brother's question.
"Well I don't know. It's just a feeling."
"Yeah? What kind of feeling?"
"I dunno ... I guess like you care about this a little more than I do."
"What do you mean by 'this'?" Seventeen asked with a quiet suspicion. Eighteen glanced back at her brother with another light shrug.
"Like ... I'm back. I've been back. We talk about this almost every day, I think. It's like you can't get over it, either. I am back, Sev. I'm not going to go anywhere or disappear again or whatever. I'm back. We're together again, and ... I don't know. That's it, I guess." Eighteen looked over at her brother yet again. He stared back at her for a long moment, his smooth face unreadable, and she hated that.
"So ... what kind of point are you trying to make, E? That you don't like it when I tell you I miss you or something?"
No, that's not it. Just that ..."
"Just that what? There's not much else to it, really," Seventeen said abruptly. Eighteen's shoulders bunched up immediately to her brother's tone, her lip twitching into a curl.
"That's not what I meant, Sev. Why don't you calm down a little, huh? I'm just talking to you. You don't need to go jumping to any conclusions ... and over what, I have absolutely no clue, either. It's nice to know that you missed me, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. But I guess it gets on your nerves to hear me say it so much, right? Cause that's what you just said to me."
"What? No I didn't."
"Oh, you didn't. Okay. I see. So if I told you that, after you thought I was dead and then found me again, it was getting a little old to hear you saying how much you missed me and were glad to have me back, you wouldn't feel a little offended by that?"
"No. Why would I?" Seventeen looked at his sister for a beat and scoffed, an incredulous look in his eye.
"No, Eighteen. That's not the right answer. It's who wouldn't be offended to hear something like that?"
"Hey, Sev. Calm dow -- "
"No, Eighteen. You should really listen to what just came out of your mouth. You just now told me that, while it's nice and happy to know that I miss you, you really don't want to hear it anymore. It's lame."
Eighteen stared at her brother, waiting for him to continue, her brow raised up irritably high.
"Now what the fuck does that mean exactly, E? Listen to yourself! You basically just told me you don't give a shit! You don't like it when I say I've missed my own sister, who I thought was dead and gone? You think that it's corny or something? What the fuck?
"Shut UP and let me TALK for a minute, Seventeen!" Her brother scoffed again and impatiently gestured for her to speak. Eighteen found the sudden silence he'd given her more irritating than anything. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts, to think of something to get him to shut the hell up and stop jumping to conclusions ... but she was struggling.
"That's what I thou -- "
"Shut UP," she snapped, eyes shooting open to glare at him. "Now ... listen to me, Seventeen." The older twin looked to her brother and waited for him to settle, which he thankfully did, if only through the slight ease of his posture. "Okay. Now, I am glad when you tell me those things. I like it. It makes me feel loved. But ... it's like you are always telling me that stuff and nothing else, like you can't get over it.
"What? What the fuck else am I supposed to think about?"
"I dunno! Your next match or some shit! I didn't realize you were such a needy little baby and needed me to tell you how much I missed you every day, Sev! You have to stop obsessing over me!"
"What?"
"You heard me."
Seventeen slapped her, a gasp of shock instantly silencing the room. Her hair had fallen into her face. She turned her head slowly and looked at him, a wild, reeling churning behind her widened eyes. He looked less angry than she expected, for that, and he stared her down with crossed arms. Seventeen's dark eyes narrowed, his voice suddenly snapping with a spiteful rumble.
"You stupid bitch."
Hateful eyes. He turned on a heel, and left the room.
Eighteen could only sit there, stupidly sit there, as she replayed what had just happened in her head. She was frozen. She was bewildered. She was hurt. Wide eyes started to wilt with emotion. She reached up to touch the spot near her temple, where his hard, sound palm had struck.
Seventeen appeared in the doorway. Eighteen froze. Their eyes met. He looked too distraught for his menacing, raised-shoulder posture. Brow twisted.
"E, I..."
"Get AWAY from me!"
Her shriek hit him like a shock of cold water. His eyes widened as he took a step towards her, but she tensed and threw up her hands. Seventeen halted, then turned. And left. She didn't pay mind to his apologetic face, and not until she saw him leave the house entirely did she unlock from her frozen posture.
He never hit her like that before. Not outside of play or sparring, not in anger like that. She was annoyed, but could make no excuses for her words. Regret. The look on his face when he left wasn't worth it. Still...he hit her. And why she didn't just hit him back, she couldn't say. Only that this wasn't over something petty, and maybe, maybe she deserved it.
The rest of Eighteen's night was spent alone. He didn't come back.
The next morning, Eighteen woke up with her brother's arms wrapped around her. At first, she thought nothing of it (she liked to be held at night sometimes, and she hadn't asked him for a while now), but the bitter memory of the night prior returned to her quickly enough. She unclasped herself from his stubborn embrace and gingerly turned to her other side to face him. There was a troubled expression etched deep into his smooth, boyish features, and perhaps unconsciously realizing he didn't have her anymore, his brow winced further down.
She felt wildly sorry in that moment and wanted to apologize for ever upsetting him so badly. But the thought was easily countered by a flash of his furious eyes and the dark sound of his spiteful voice. The lighter-haired twin turned onto her back with a sour grimace. For that troubled sleeping face of his, she wanted only to remove it. The idea that, when he awakened, she would comfort his frayed nerves, was nice to her and almost whimsical. But when she looked at him she could only replay the deep-rooted spite in his voice; he meant to upset her.
Seventeen had inched his way closer again, throwing an arm and a leg across her body as he nuzzled her shoulder. What, did he sense her frustration? Was he doing this on purpose to pacify her? She looked to his face for any sign he was awake. There was nothing.
Eighteen sat up on the edge of the bed, hoping her brother wouldn't sense her distance and awaken. Not yet. She wasn't in the right mindset to deal with whatever he had to say. But she didn't want to leave the room, or him. It was too warm to leave, too peaceful and melancholy to desert.
She got up and started to pull her sweater on when she realized she didn't need it, even though her breath came out in wispy white puffs before her. Did he "upgrade" her while she was asleep last night, or was she doing that well on her own? Eighteen walked over to the window doors that faced their broken balcony, and pulled her arms across her chest.
Her eyes searched for something, down on the snow-covered yard below. A lonely feeling was wrapping itself around her enhanced heart, and the nearly forgotten, nagging feeling that things still weren't all right, began to overtake her mind. For all the high possibility there was that her memories were false, the reality of her world now was still almost too surreal. Something was so clearly different between them. A dangerous stranger? Why had Seventeen never experienced any false memories? What if he did and wasn't aware? What if the fights weren't real?
Too dangerous, she suddenly thought to herself. If Eighteen let herself dwell on something that felt so treacherous just in thought, it certainly wouldn't be good if it showed in her actions. And he would find out, somehow. Her twin. Her savior, her obligation. Undoubtedly, she loved him. But...could she trust him?
Her body jumped; two lithe arms slinking around her waist. Seventeen sighed against her, squeezing her tightly as if to apologize for causing her troubled thoughts. She hoped he didn't sense the spike in her adrenaline level.
"What's this for?" she asked softly, placing her hand over top one of his wrists. He shrugged against her.
"You know ... " came her brother's hushed voice.
"Do I?"
"I ... hope so," he replied. Eighteen felt a starburst of anger in her chest, that he should sound so goddamn sad when he started this in the first place. But she couldn't be mad, couldn't even force herself to, not when he was like this; no attitude, no snide remarks. Just a quiet, regretful boy trying to show he was sorry. She sighed.
"Come on," she said, taking his hand. "I want to lay down still."
"Okay ... "
Eighteen regarded him with a frown as they climbed back into bed.
"What is it?"
"Nothing to worry about, Sev." She pulled the heavy comforter over their heads.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." He looked at her with worried, imploring eyes and she clicked her tongue. "Come here, stupid." Eighteen pulled him into her arms. He nuzzled against her shoulder, arms wrapping tight around her.
"I'm so sorry, E ... " She sighed at his broken voice, and dearly hoped he wasn't doing this to make her feel bad.
"You don't have to say anything, Seventeen. It was my fault ... "