Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, or Dragonball for that matter. Or any other cultural references I happen to make.

Author's Notes: Well, this was a challenge to get started. But once I got started it flowed pretty well. If you don't understand some of the references, I'll explain them at the end of the chapter. Probably my first foot-noted chapter ever. Footnotes are numbers in parentheses. Enjoy!

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Chapter 32: Drawing Near

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*Crinkle-crinkle*

The paper flew through the air in a perfect arc. It would have landed directly in the litter basket, but the small container was so full that the paper bounced off the top and landed amid the growing pile of small paper basketballs surrounding the basket. Jiten didn't notice. He probably wouldn't notice until his mother would "gently" remind him to keep his room a bit neater. But for now he was frustrated. He pulled out another sheet of paper and started drawing tentative lines. Surrounding him were sheets filled with sketches, some just partial drawings and some fully finished and colored. At the moment he was focusing on one sheet covered with small drawings of a mass of odd angles. "Darn it," he muttered to himself, "I can't get it right."

"Aren't you supposed to be training?"

The four-year-old looked up at the older mirror-image of himself. "Hi, Uncle Vegeta. Mommy gave me a break for a little bit."

Vegeta regarded the mess around him. "You may not get any more breaks once your mother sees this place," he remarked with a smirk.

Jiten smirked back and then went back to his drawing. 'You don't know that half of it,' he thought with smug satisfaction.

Vegeta looked over the boy's shoulder at his work. His eyes widened in surprise. In the middle of the page was himself and Goku, standing some distance apart and joining ki-blasts. Many insets were drawn around the picture showing Goku and Vegeta in different stages of a fight, some Super and some not. Jiten was currently working on a small picture of non-Super Goku, making lines and rub marks around the head. "Why are you drawing that?"

Jiten stuck his tongue out in the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. "I like to watch you and Granpa fight. I want to draw it, but Granpa's hair is hard to draw," he complained. "Yours is easy because I can just go by mine, but his is weirder."

"You're lucky that you didn't get that hair. Your father had hair just like his when he was little."

Jiten wrinkled his nose and laughed. "Is my hair gonna change when I get older?"

Vegeta looked over his nephew. He was glad that the boy looked so much like him. He'd never said it, but it had been a little disappointing when his children had taken after their mother so much. Especially when they seemed to take all recessive genes. It didn't really make sense. 'Must be some sort of genetic manipulation in the Briefs family. Wouldn't surprise me a bit.' "I hope not," he voiced aloud. "Here. Let me."

Jiten gave the pencil to Vegeta, who was studying the drawing intently where the boy was having problems. He grabbed a scrap sheet of paper, and quickly and precisely he drew the form of Goku's head in the proper angle for the drawing, barely even picking up the pencil to sketch the wild angles. "Is that what you're attempting?"

Jiten studied it intently. "Yeah! That's perfect! Hey, I didn't know you could draw."

Vegeta gave him a half-serious stern look. "As far as it concerns anyone else, I can't."

"Sure!" Jiten grinned. He turned his attention back to the drawing, frowned slightly, and drew in the wild locks. He drew back and surveyed his work with satisfaction, seeming to declare perfection. Vegeta nodded in approval. Then Jiten turned his attention back to Vegeta's drawing. "You forgot to give him a face, Uncle Vegeta."

Vegeta accepted the pencil again and, with a growing smirk, drew the face on. It was the same look Goku got whenever he didn't understand something, a sort of blank confusion. Vegeta then steadied Jiten in his chair when his laughter almost made him fall to the floor. Vegeta emitted a small chuckle, debating on whether or not to tell Jiten that he sometimes got the exact same look.

"JITEN!!"

Jiten's head snapped up in panic. He'd been so preoccupied with drawing that he'd forgotten to monitor where his mother was. His stomach began to knot as Jita's form appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and mouth scowling. He looked down sheepishly, putting down his pencil. Then he looked up, making his eyes as wide as possible and said as innocently as possible, "Yes, Mommy?"

Jita chuckled under her breath. "Don't you 'yes, Mommy' me. I told you an hour ago to clean up your room and then do some private training. Why is your gravity room turned on? You're not in there."

Jiten sputtered for an explanation. "I - I -" He clammed up, mind racing for any excuse. It was no good. He was caught.

"Well," Jita continued, "if you're not going to answer me, I'll tell you. You decided to trick me into thinking you were in the gravity room and not actually go in there."

"I was gonna go in there. . ." Jiten said softly.

"What did you say?" Jita said sharply.

Jiten jumped. "I . . . I . . . was gonna go in there . . ."

"Of course you were," Jita interrupted. "Just in time for me to check up on you. Your timing was a little off. You remember what I said would happen the next time you pulled this."

Jiten's heart began to thump faster as he edged away. He looked up to his Uncle Vegeta, who was only giving a scowl that mirrored his mother's. Jiten drew back further. "No. Mommy, please. I promise . . ."

Before Jiten knew it, he was looking at bed sheets. Jita had taken him over her knee faster than Jiten could even think. He squirmed and whined, but his mother's hold on him was firm and unyielding. By the time it was over, his face was a red mess of tears. When Jita set him upright in front of her, Jiten looked away from her. He was shaking in pain, anger, and embarrassment. Not only had his mother spanked Jiten, she'd done it in front of Uncle Vegeta. Of all the people in the world, Jiten hated being embarrassed in front of Vegeta the worst.

Jita held the boy upright until his broken sobs gave way to sniffles. Wincing at the mess on his face, she grabbed a couple of tissues and wiped him up. She pulled his face up by his chin, but he jerked his head out of her grasp. "Look at me," she demanded softly.

Jiten pretended like he didn't hear her.

"Look at me," Jita repeated, her tone refusing to be ignored.

Jiten's eyes slowly rose to meet his mother's. Jita was relieved that the look in his eyes was more of shame and less of defiance. "I want to be able to trust you, Jiten," she began. "When you lie to me, you show that you can't be trusted. I trust you with going to your gravity room alone. That's a lot of trust. What if someone walked in your gravity room without realizing it was on? If they weren't strong enough, it could hurt them. And you would be responsible. So that's why I spanked you. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mommy," Jiten said in a soft broken voice.

"Good. Now, I want you to go to your gravity room and meditate for an hour. And this time you won't know when I'll be checking up on you."

Jiten's eyes widened. Usually he would only meditate for fifteen minutes at a time. A whole hour?! And he wasn't allowed to levitate, just in case his thoughts wandered and he fell. So he would have to sit on his sore bottom for a full hour. Jiten scowled and ran out of the room. Jita watched out the window, satisfied when he ran into the dojo. Then she slumped back on the bed and rubbed her temples.

"I was not aware," Vegeta began, "that he was supposed to be training. I thought he enjoyed training."

Jita looked up and smirked tiredly. "He likes seeing what he can get away with a lot better. At least, that's the only explanation I can come up with. What was he doing, anyway?"

Vegeta motioned toward the stack of drawings. Jita shook her head and walked over to them. "He does that day and night, when he's not finding some way to get into trouble. There's so many pictures posted on these walls, I don't even remember the wallpaper Chichi put in this room." She looked at Vegeta's tiny drawing, recognizing it as not her son's style. She smirked up at Vegeta, who merely raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her to mention anything. She smirked wider and began to straighten up Jiten's desk. She swore to herself that she would never do the boy's work for him, but she just started before she realized what she was doing. 'Hell if I'm going to clean the rest of his room. He's doing that tonight.'

"Why did you ask me to come over, child?" Vegeta broke into her thoughts.

Jita winced at the moniker, but let it slide. "Goten if out with Kakarrot, and I need someone to watch Jiten for a while."

Vegeta's eyes widened. "So I'm a baby-sitter now. Doesn't Chichi usually do that?"

"Yes, but Chichi's getting older. You know how quickly humans age. I don't see how they can stand to have such short life-spans."

Vegeta snorted. "She's in her late 50s, if anything. That's hardly infirm, even for human standards. My woman's older. Besides, Kakarrot's woman is far from helpless."

Jita sighed impatiently. "The years have been kinder to Bulma. And that was just an excuse. I want you, and no one else, to watch Jiten because his strength is surpassing his ability to control it. You're strong enough and strict enough to keep him in line and keep him from hurting himself and anyone else. That's why I trust you. Besides, he won't test you like he does the rest of us."

Jita frowned, tired and aggravated at her son. All he ever did was test her. Jita and Goten had to stay on him all the time. Vegeta looked amusedly at her weary eyes, a silent attest to her never-ending responsibility. "You were no better as a child."

Jita looked at him in surprise, but then laughed softly. "Do you remember when I gave my bodyguards the slip? Led them on a merry chase around the palace."

Vegeta's smile widened slightly at the memory. "Ran straight into father. And attacked him when he couldn't figure out who you were. Then bugged me everyday for training."

"Then I got so strong that I kept accidentally knocking down walls." Then Jita's eyes widened. "You don't suppose he'll start doing that, do you? No wonder Saiyans sent their children off-planet."

Vegeta laughed in assent. "Where are you going, anyway?"

Jita shifted uncomfortably at the question. "I've - ah - got an appointment to get to. It may take a while, and I didn't want Jiten to be left alone. Listen, if I'm not back here by this evening, go ahead and take him to Capsule Corp with you."

Jita left before Vegeta could get another word in. Used to his sister's secretive ways, he merely shrugged his shoulders. He looked back at the drawing of him and Kakarrot fighting, noting with satisfaction that the better-looking pictures were ones where Vegeta had the advantage. He put down the picture and headed for the dojo.

Vegeta looked through a window to the little boy. He was doing less meditating and a lot more pouting. Vegeta shook his head. Trunks had been the same way a lot of times. Vegeta knew Jiten probably didn't want to see him at the time, so he just watched. Vegeta also checked the outside controls of the room. He laughed at all that talk about trusting Jiten with his own gravity room. It was the only gravity room with padding on the floors, decorations on the walls, and a gravity generator that couldn't surpass 10 Gs. That room, too, was covered with Jiten's drawing, all protected behind study glass cases on the walls.

Suddenly, Jiten looked up at the window, finally coming out of his self- pity enough to sense Vegeta on the other side of the wall. Jiten looked away, still ashamed that he had been caught and punished in front of his stern uncle.

Realizing he probably couldn't just watch anymore, Vegeta turned off the gravity and opened the door. At Jiten's puzzled and expectant expression, Vegeta closed the door, turned back on the gravity, and sat beside the boy to meditate.

Jiten smiled. He had been worried that Uncle Vegeta wouldn't like him any more. Finally able to ignore the hard floor with Vegeta's comforting presence, Jiten slipped into meditation.

*****

Jita descended a bit in her flight as the towns gave way to trees and farmland. In the more rustic areas dwelt people with longer memories less excitable personalities. It was a known fact that you could fly lower in the countryside because the common people wouldn't be thrown into a panic at the sight of flying people. She had often wondered about that phenomenon, until Eighteen had explained it to her, from the explanation she had received from Krillen. These people had actually kept up with Goku. They were the ones who most remember being terrorized by the Red Ribbon Army. As such, they remembered the one who had destroyed the Red Ribbon Army. They had kept up with Goku's accomplishments all these years, and knew that flying people were, for the most part, saviors rather than enemies. Jita was surprised at how public Goku's victories over the Red Ribbon Army and the various Piccolos were, as well as his performance at the Budoukai. She was surprised because you never heard about those. It was always Satan who was the Earth's savior. Jita shook her head. It was really sad when the country bumpkins had more sense than the more educated city people. (1)

She put up a bit more speed. The farmland and trees quickly gave way to a desert. She knew that somewhere in the same desert was Kami's Lookout, but that wasn't where she was going. She consulted the map Krillen had found for her to orient herself. Of course, she'd made sure Krillen wouldn't tell anyone what she was up to. Krillen didn't even know the reason behind her visit. She wasn't even all that sure about the reason. It was just one source she had not taken advantage of.

After half an hour of searching, Jita found where she was looking for. It was a cross-shaped complex from the air with interconnecting buildings and an arena out back. But Jita had heard the stories, and knew there was far more to this place. Out front a long line of various humans and sentient animals had formed - some very well dressed and others looking tougher than average earth-dwellers. She saw some in bandages limping out of the gate house. Jita smiled sardonically. She wondered what the reaction to her would be. She decided not to make any trouble and descended to the back of the line.

Several turned around to regard this girl who had dropped from the sky. Some whispers started, but Jita ignored them. She knew that if her dojo was successful, there would be more flying people on Earth and in time the novelty would die down. That was as it should be.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you Son Jita?"

Turned to the voice, and her eyes went a bit wider as she realized she was talking to the stereotypical ghost with a flat pointed hat. She was sure she'd seen Jiten watching some cartoons with similar figures. She quickly got over her surprise. She knew that the ghost probably got sick of people staring at him just as much as she got sick of the whole "flying people" panic. "Yes," she replied. "How could you know who I am, though?"

The ghost smiled. "Uranai Baba is expecting you. She did not think you would take kindly to waiting in a line, so she asked that you come right in." (2)

Jita walked in, and watched in interest as the ghost began telling people that the fortune-teller couldn't see them that day. Did Baba expect something to happen? Jita walked through the gate house and the courtyard to the central building. She didn't see anyone around. "Hello? Urenai Baba?" (3)

"That's Uranai Baba!" came a raspy voice from a corner. A tiny dumpy pink- haired witch on a crystal ball floated up to her, scowling at the unintended insult.

Jita laughed at her own mistake. "I can't get the proper accent sometimes. Pardon me."

Baba regarded her carefully. "You're not like your brother at all," she declared.

Jita crossed her arms. "You're the first person to ever tell me that. Though, from what I hear, you're not like your brother either."

Baba got a wistful look in her eyes. "I haven't visited that old bum for a while now. I'm glad you never met him. You'd hate him."

"From what I've heard, I probably would. Didn't he die of a heart attack?"

Baba shook her head. "No heart attack could down Roshi. He was three hundred and some years old. He decided to die. He could use magic to give him infinite life, but he decided that the world didn't need the Turtle Master anymore. He would feel even more so now that the Spider Masters have established themselves," Baba said with a glint in her eyes.

Jita smiled. The "Spider Master" was a name she and Goten had finally taken for themselves. They wanted to distance themselves from the modern, usually know-nothing dojos of the modern era and go back to a more traditional style of teaching. All of the traditional senseis had taken titles that had invoked the image of animals. The Turtle Master, the Crane Master, the Cat Master (4) . . . probably a few others, but they were never as famous. And they each chose the title for imitating an aspect of the animal. Roshi's training was all about endurance and strength, and involved the use of heavy turtle shells. Korin had taught many warriors stealth and speed, as well as being a cat himself. And the Crane Master had probably taken his name because he taught people how to fly. From what Jita had heard, that had once been a pretty radical idea. All of these masters had many reasons to take their names, and so did Jita and Goten. Jita had gotten used to calling their dojo the "spider building," using Jiten's nickname for the place. After her students had done so well in the Tenkaichi Budoukai, the martial arts world was clambering for a name for this successful dojo that challenged the Satan school's monopoly on the tournament. After studying the style Jita was teaching, and hearing a few times people call the dojo the spider building, the nickname was chosen and stuck. The spider fighting style was known for speed and unpredictability, almost spider-like in movement. For two years Goten and Jita had been known as the Spider Masters, even changing their symbol to suit the new titles. They didn't mind, either. Goten found it sort of funny, especially since the so-called martial arts experts of the Budoukai couldn't tell that he had been taught by his mother and father, both coming from the turtle school tradition.

"But you know what," Baba continued, "I think is the real reason Roshi decided to die?"

Jita cocked her head in curiosity and nodded the suddenly serious witch to continue.

"It was because Eighteen got rid of his entire collection of porn."

Jita stared at the grinning witch and face-faulted. As soon as she recovered, she regarded the old witch with an amused expression. "You seem to be rather nonchalant about the passing of your brother."

Baba laughed. "Death is not so final, and the afterlife is not so bad that I have to be sad about his death." Then the old woman's expression changed as she realized who she was talking to.

Jita waved off any apologies or pity that may have been forthcoming. "I suppose you know that's why I came to see you. You seem to know everything."

Baba floated a little higher. "I don't know everything. Just a lot more than most people because I'm half a millennium old. But if anyone asks you," she added, "I'm not a day over two hundred."

Baba scrutinized the Saiyan princess even closer. "You really aren't like your brother at all. Or are you just being sociable with me to humor me so I'll be more willing to help you?"

"You know," Jita said, crossing her arms, "I really don't like mind- readers."

"Me neither. I get confused with them all the time. Now," Baba said abruptly, "let's get down to business, shall we?"

Jita nodded. "Let's. I don't have the ten million zeni, so I guess I'll have to fight your warriors? Where are they?" Jita glanced in various directions.

"Ah - well - no one wanted to fight you, so no fight necessary. Besides," Baba said under her breath, "I wouldn't charge you anyway. This is serious enough."

Jita followed Uranai Baba into a small unobtrusive room to the side. Jita hadn't noticed it before, despite her trained ability to glance at a place and learn every detail about it. Jita had the feeling that she could have looked directly at the door and not even know that it was there if Baba had not led her to it. Just like if Baba had not responded to her, then Jita felt she would not have been able to see the old witch. The entire building seemed to be enshrouded by magic. It annoyed Jita, but she kept her feelings to herself. She was there for a purpose, after all.

Jita walked into the room without any preconceived notions, but she was definitely not expecting what she found. The room was set up like a gypsy fortune-teller's booth you'd find in a movie. Many unscented candles were all around, yet the air was perfume by incense of a scent that Jita couldn't quite place. Various magical paraphernalia littered the many shelves on the walls, all from different traditions around the world, from quartz to voodoo dolls to totem polls. Jita smirked when she saw a green doll with antennae. She was busy trying to decide if the doll was meant to represent Piccolo or Dende when Baba cut into her thoughts.

"Just sit on one of the cushions at the table while I'm getting ready."

Jita sat at the low table as Baba flitted around the room, grabbing various things from hidden drawers and cabinets. It seemed that all the things on the shelves were just decorations prompted by the old woman's strange sense of humor, like her Halloween witch's outfit. Baba then dumped all the articles on the table, mostly composed of various colored crystals that seemed to be not native to Earth or anyplace in the corporeal dimension, although Jita had seen some similar during her time in Hell. Baba took a quick inventory of her collection, nodded in satisfaction, and scrambled off her crystal ball to sit on a cushion opposite of Jita. The ball floated into the central position of the table. Baba frowned and moved the ball more to the side of the table so that she and Jita could see each other.

"Let me warn you," Baba started, "This has never been done before. No one has ever escaped the clutches of the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell."

"But I am the first to be reincarnated by him," Jita reasoned.

"And that's why I'm even attempting it. I just don't want you to get your hopes up."

"Believe me when I tell you my hopes are far from up."

Uranai Baba nodded sagely and began to deftly set up the crystals in some indistinguishable pattern. "I've been looking into your case on and off for some time now. Mostly because I was afraid that you were a harbinger of doom to earth when you first came. The hold he has on you is some sort of bond that I can barely see. It blends with ki, psychic, and magic in so complex a combination that you can't tell where one begins and another ends. I'm not sure how it can be broken, but I'm going to try a few things."

The crystals were finally put into the pattern Baba wanted. They began to glow. Jita stared at them, but then began to fight against their entrancing effects. Baba nodded. "I see that you have a strong will. This may help us. I'm going to have to focus for about three hours. What you need to do in the meantime is go into that meditation that you warriors do all the time. That'll focus your ki and your mind, and maybe even what little magical ability you have. I'll let you know if you need to come back to reality. If the voice starts to bother you, just sing or something."

"Sing?" Jita asked incredulously.

Baba harrumphed in impatience. "Or do whatever you want. Recite a poem or something. Just make it something familiar that ties you to the corporeal universe and drowns out the voice."

Jita wanted to leave the room right then, but she forced herself to stay. If there was just a chance . . . 'Right, then. Meditate.' She closed her eyes and powered up her ki a bit, forcing it all inside so as not to damage or completely destroy the room. Just before she completely withdrew inward, she heard the witch sing to herself, "I, I, I am Uranai Baba. Cute, cute Uranai Baba . . ." (5)

Jita shook her head. The old witch really was a bit crazy. She just hoped Baba knew what she was doing.

*****

Goten added a little more kindling to the fire. Two fish of gargantuan proportions hung over the large fire. Usually one would have sufficed, but both he and his father seemed to have larger appetites that the other Saiyans. Yet another way they were alike.

Goten sighed. Goku was now at the creek getting water, and Goten was a bit relieved to be alone. He had not chosen to take this camping trip with his father. But Goku had asked, and Jita had insisted. It was a little weird how Jita had kept insisting. It was as if she wanted him out of the way. 'Must just want to be alone. She complains about never being able to get her reading done. Jiten's probably at Mom's or Capsule Corp.'

Goten wished he had thought to take Jiten along, but Jiten was on restriction for leaving his gravity room on, and then subsequently lying about it. So that, of course, meant no camping trip. It would have been great to have Jiten there, though.

"Hey Goten. Don't you think the fish is done on that side?"

Goten jumped at his father's voice and quickly turned the fish. Goten was starving. The two had already sparred and Goten was always hungriest after a spar with his dad. He grabbed a canteen of water to maybe appease his hunger a bit until the fish was done. He frowned. It didn't help much.

Goku sat down cross-legged on the other side of the fire, rubbing his stomach. "Boy, I sure hope the fish gets done soon. Man, I'm tellin' ya. I could eat a whole octopus right now."

Goten started up. "As if you could eat a whole . . . Wait, you haven't eaten a whole octopus before, have you?"

Goku grinned. "Yup! It tried to eat me, so I fried it with a kamehameha and ate it." (6)

Goten gulped. "That's . . . more than I ever wanted to know."

"Say, Goten. How's Pan doing in your class?"

Goten poked at the fire with a stick. "Jita would know more about that. But she's helping me with some of the younger classes, and she seems to be handling herself."

"That's good," Goku replied.

Goten looked down as the pause in conversation stretched into silence. He flexed his foot to keep it from going to sleep, and wracked his brain for something to say. Anything he thought of he'd already said or Goku wouldn't understand. He thought about talking shop, i.e. fighting, but dropped that idea, unsatisfied. That was all they ever talked about. That was all they ever did, too. They'd spar, say a few words, maybe eat together, and then leave. Goten had heard all the stories of his father, of his adventures before he was born, except for such jewels as the octopus story. And Goten didn't really want to know what Goku was doing in the Afterlife. It just reminded him of why he was so angry with his father when he was younger. But all that had changed.

Goten pulled the fish from the fire. The two ate in silence, besides the occasion 'this is good' from Goku. Goten didn't understand it. It wasn't like he hated Goku anymore. Well, he'd always loved him, but Goten had never understood him. But it wasn't like that anymore. They'd reached an understanding years ago. In that spar . . .

All they ever did was spar . . .

'I wish Jiten was here. At least it wouldn't be so awkward. Heck, even Vegeta would make it less awkward here, and that's saying a lot.'

Goten looked over at his father, who had finished eating and was now dozing off. The sunset cast the entire realm in an orange glow. Disgusted, mostly with himself, Goten turned his attention away from Goku and searched for the kis of his family. He found Jiten over at Capsule Corp. He grimaced. He hoped Vegeta didn't kill the kid. Then he started looking for Jita.

Goten frowned at what he felt. Her ki was . . . focused. More focused than she even got it during an intense spar. Definitely more focused than in meditation. He pored deeper into the sense of her. She seemed calm, but her ki was getting stranger and stranger. He tried to figure out what was different about her sense. There were . . . wisps . . . around her ki. Barely perceptible shadows, but not really malevolent. Except for one. The sense of it grew stronger as he focused more. Could that be the voice? He realized that he couldn't figure out what was going on with her just by ki-sense, but he wasn't about to go to her. She could be jealous with her privacy, just as he could. He would respect that. If she wanted to tell him, she would.

Goten slowly drifted to sleep, the feel of his wife's ki-sense following him into his dreams.

*****

"It's time."

Jita barely registered the old woman's screechy voice. She was just in the middle of reciting the Saiyan Warrior's Pledge from memory for what seemed like the thousandth time. What amazed her was that Baba seemed to be right. As long as she kept it up, the voice was partially drowned out. Of course, it could also have been the magic thickly pervading the room, her mind, her entire body.

'I pledge my loyalty to the king. / His might will rule me as I serve him. / I pledge my loyalty to the prince, / The future king of us all. / I pledge my loyalty to the Empire. / In its strength we will thrive. / I pledge my life to the Planet Vegeta, / The planet we took by might and by right. / I pledge my honor to my family, / To father, to mother, to mate, to child. / By the light of the full moon, / May the pride and strength of the Saiyans last forever.'

Keeping the cant in the back of her mind, she opened her eyes. She didn't know what time she'd passed in meditation. It could have been hours, or even days. The room was windowless and dark, the only light coming through being the few candles still burning weakly and her ki's faint dull glow. In front of her was a slightly bedraggled Baba, and beside her was . . .

Jita stared at the creature, for lack of any better ideas. She thought about attacking, but decided against it. He was obviously there at Baba's request, and therefore to help. He was short - more like miniscule - and reminded Jita of the dolls that Bra had decorating her room. He was pure white with two red spots on his cheeks, and was wearing some sort of traditional outfit. He had removed his hat, which was lying on the floor next to his feet, and a single long hair stuck from the top of his head. His expression was grave, but as he felt Jita's eyes on him, he looked up at her and gave a small smile.

"Hi," he whispered. "I'm Chaotzu."

"Jita," she replied quietly.

Chaotzu's grin widened. "I know. Darjili told me all about you last time she visited home."

Jita's eyes widened. "And you would know Darjili . . . how?"

"I'm her father Tien's best friend. I've known Darjili since she was born. Doesn't she ever . . ."

"Darjili doesn't really talk about home all that much."

Chaotzu frowned. "Oh, yeah. Ever since Lunch passed away . . ." He trailed off.

Jita thought back to her student of a few years. Darjili had never mentioned her mother had died. "When did this happen?"

"Two years ago," came Chaotzu's reply. "It was her mental illness. That last year she didn't even need to sneeze to change personalities. She just kept switching back and forth. But I'm glad she got to see Darjili control both her personalities. She was real proud of her. Darjili said that you got her to control it. Thank you."

Jita nodded. "I-"

"The time for conversation will have to wait," Uranai Baba cut in. "I invited Chaotzu here to help out with the psychic element, since that's his specialty. I'll handle the magic, and I guess you, Jita, will have to handle the ki. I didn't think you'd want anyone else to know your secret."

"Good guess, witch," Jita replied. Only her desperation to be free from her soul-bind kept her going. She really wanted to just fly out of that dark, incense-filled room, maybe even off that planet. The voice was starting to seep in, but she started the Warrior's Pledge as strong as ever. What had started as an awkward, half-gone memory seemed now to fill her entire mind. Seeing Baba and Chaotzu sink into concentration, Jita did the same. Jita gasped. Unlike the peaceful meditation of before, the world of her mind was a whirlwind of sight and sound, memory and power. And in the middle of it all was Jita - and the voice. The rest was only memory, and the familiar cant of the pledge.

'I pledge my loyalty to the king. / His might will rule me as I serve him.'

Jita was held back, her tiny arms flailing and struggling against the muscled arms of the Saiyan guards. All she could here was her father's voice. "Who is that child?"

HE NEVER LOVED YOU. DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU.

'I pledge my loyalty to the prince, / The future king of us all.'

Jita lay helplessly on the ground, too many ribs broken from the first attack to get up. Vegeta was now completely Oozaru, towering over her small helpless form with angry red eyes. She screamed as a monstrous foot loomed over her, "Vegeta! No!!"

THE SAME PRINCE - THE SAME BROTHER - WHO KILLED YOU? THE ONE YOU GAVE UP EVERYTHING TO KILL? WHEN DOES HE GET THE ETERNAL HELL HE DESERVES?

'I pledge my loyalty to the Empire. / In its strength we will thrive.'

King Vegeta was taller than Frieza, but the Ice-jin dictator towered over the Saiyan king. Jita burned in desperate hatred, for warriors were escorting Vegeta away.

AND FRIEZA. THEY STOLE YOUR REVENGE AGAINST HIM. OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHAT HE DID?

'I pledge my life to the Planet Vegeta, / The planet we took by might and by right.'

Jita stared from her palace window, the giant red-orange energy ball fell inevitably to the planet. She could hear the death-screams of Saiyans touching the energy and dying. She screamed into the wind, and blacked out.

WHAT GOOD IS YOUR SAIYAN PRIDE WITHOUT REVENGE? WHY DO YOU STAY WITH THE LAST OF THE SAIYANS WHEN THEY SURVIVED AND YOU DIED? YOU'RE NOT ONE OF THEM. YOU HAVE THE POWER TO KILL THEM. IT'S THE ONLY WAY.

'I pledge my honor to my family, / To father, to mother, to mate, to child.

"How can I accept her as my child when it sapped the last of the queen's strength just to birth that tailless freak girl?"

"Now wait a minute," Goten broke in angrily. "I didn't say any of that, and I didn't ask for a family history. I know you Saiyans used to be evil -"

Jita looked at her son, a defiant sneer set on his face, seeming to mock her discipline. "I don't have to do as you say," he said in his usually- sweet childish voice. Jita looked into his eyes, and could barely recognize her baby.

YOU'VE CARRIED THE CURSE OF YOU FAMILY TO YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILD. YOU HAVE THIS FAMILY ON STOLEN TIME. ONCE YOU ARE GONE, THEY WILL BE GLAD. AS IF YOU WOULD SEE THEM IN HELL . . . WELL, MAYBE THE BOY . . .

'By the light of the full moon, / May the pride and strength of the Saiyans last forever.'

SAIYANS ARE DEAD AND DYING. HALF-BREEDS WILL NOT LAST FOREVER.

Relics. And half-breeds. And memories. This was her life.

Relics. And half-breeds. And memories. These were the ruins of the Saiyans.

Relics were broken bones and dusty armor.

Half-breeds with Saiyan blood thinning in each generation.

Memories of pain and repression and purges and death - memories that faded in time and left a bitter taste.

"No! I will not take revenge! I will take my soul!"

IT IS MINE! YOU ARE MINE!!

"No!! My family!!"

Vegeta.

Goten.

Jiten.

Chichi.

Kakarrot.

Goten.

Jiten.

Goten.

Jiten.

JITA!!!

And suddenly, the voice stopped. Jita felt liberated as the grasp on her soul slowly slipped. Her mind was filled with her husband and child. This was what she was doing this for. And she was winning. The grasp was slipping. She was filled with such a calm - such a completeness she hadn't felt in so many years. She felt alive - truly alive. The felling went head to toe to fingertips. So why did she start to feel uneasy . . .?

HEH-HEH-HEH

"It's working!" Chaotzu squeaked out between gasps of air.

"Shh," warned Baba.

HEH-HEH-HEH

Jita could actually see the bond now. The three-stringed coil of the bond that had trapped her soul - in ki, magic, and psyche. Only now, it was joined with a fourth, that slithered down the coil from her soul to her body - to the natural world. It was a sickly dark thread, and it was coming. It was so close. And she was unraveling the barrier . . .

HEH-HEH-HEH

"No!!!"

Jita screamed out in defiance and desperation. She shot to her feet, and immediately the spell ended. Her ki fell, and every candle was snuffed out. The crystals that had been levitating above the table dropped, turning from an iridescent white to a murky grey. Chaotzu fell over, unconscious from the momentary overload. Uranai Baba merely stared up at Jita, shaking her head sadly.

"I'm sorry, Jita."

Jita looked dully at Baba, too drained and in shock to truly grasp what happened. "It's all right. Tell the psychic that I . . . appreciate what he tried to do for me."

Baba nodded, for once not sure of what to say. So she tried for humor. "Maybe that'll teach you not to go to fortune-tellers and psychics."

Jita gave a ghost of a smile, and opened the door. She was surprised when daylight blinded her. She hoped it was only the next day. Not bothering to glance behind her one last time, Jita took to the sky and slowly flew home.

"What happened?"

Chaotzu pulled himself off the floor, rubbing his head in pain. He had never fallen out of practice with his psychic abilities, but this was far more complicated and strange than anything he'd ever attempted. He looked over at Baba in confusion.

Baba straightened her pointy hat and pink hair, climbing back onto her waiting crystal ball. "I don't know."

Chaotzu looked at her in surprise. You never heard those words coming out of Uranai Baba's mouth. More often than not, Baba knew the all of the past and present, and most of the future. She didn't charge ten million zeni a fortune as a sham. She was the real thing. It was unheard of for her to not know. Until now.

But Baba vindicated herself a bit. "It was working. We were breaking the link to her soul. It's hard to believe, but she was doing most of the work. And she stopped."

"Why?" Chaotzu asked quietly.

Uranai Baba peeked from under the brim of her hat. "She knows something. I think she just saved us all."

*****

Goten dropped in the front lawn and sighed in relief. After a sparring match with Goku early this morning, and breakfast, they had ended the camping trip. He rubbed his sore arms - sore from blocking all of his father's hard hits. He was surprised to see lights in the house. He had thought Jita would still be away. Perplexed, he went inside, hoping to see what was up with his wife.

He finally found Jita in a chair in her library. A book was laying open on the chair arm, but she was not reading it. She was staring ahead, her eyes tired and bloodshot. She seemed to be mumbling something in Saiyan.

"Hey, Jita?"

Jita started at his greeting. Behind her red eyes the pain was so evident that Goten took her in his arms the instant he saw them. At first rigid, she relaxed in his grip.

"You know I love you," Jita said in a hoarse whisper, as if she had been holding back tears. "And Jiten. I love him too. I love you both, no matter what happens."

Goten just nodded his head. He wouldn't ask her what happened. He knew a bit of it. He'd seen it in his dreams, and now the reality of what he'd seen was confirmed. He didn't understand everything that had happened, but he knew that Jita had given something up - something important. And all he could do was love her.

*****

"So, did you win the tournament?"

Jiten sat outside with Vegeta in the garden. If there was anything that could rival Granpa's stories, it was Uncle Vegeta. He had been to so many planets - seen so many aliens - and he never ran out of stories. Some with his mom, and some without. But all exciting.

"No," Vegeta replied. "I already told you Zarbon was in the tournament. I wasn't entirely weak against him, and that final match took all day, but I was younger and weaker at the time. He got the better of me." (7)

Jiten's eyes were shining nonetheless. "And the way you defeated that Ginyu when everyone said you couldn't. Wow . . . I wish you could've beaten Zarbon that time."

Vegeta smirked. "Well, I killed him much later on, on Namek, so it evens out. And I killed that Ginyu fool on Namek as well . . ."

"I really wish you wouldn't tell him all those violent stories," Bulma interrupted. "What if he becomes -"

"Violent?" Vegeta finished for her.

Bulma glared. "I just don't think those stories are suitable for children. I told you just as much when Trunks and Bra were little."

Vegeta crossed his arms. "Alright. You tell some of your stories. Maybe what you did for Roshi to get a Dragonball. Or how that weakling Yamcha defeated the invisible man. I'm sure THAT'S more suitable for children." (8)

Bulma glared at Vegeta, who was looking a bit too smug, until she felt Jiten tugging on her pants leg.

"How DID he beat the invisible man?" Jiten asked innocently.

"Uh . . ." Bulma stammered, turning bright red. "Uh . . . Tomato soup! That's how. Krillen doused him with tomato soup . . . that Goku had to get me and Master Roshi to bring. That's it!" She smiled in triumph as Vegeta fought to suppress laughter.

As Bulma and Vegeta continued to argue, Jiten slipped out of the garden and up to his usual room at Capsule Corp. As he passed, he ignored Trunks having an important-sounding conversation on his cell phone. He likewise ignored Bra dancing around her room, singing some nasally-sounding pop song. When he got to the room - Trunks old room - he turned the TV to cartoons and grabbed his sketchpad and pencils.

As he began to draw a picture of what looked like a much-younger Vegeta killing his interpretation of Zarbon - a mean ugly monster - he turned up the TV, hoping that Bugs Bunny would drown out that whisper. That voice.

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Footnotes:

1. This is, of course, a bunch of Dragonball references. Apparently, by the time of Dragonball Z, everyone had forgotten who had defeated the Red Ribbon Army, Piccolo Daimaou, and Piccolo Jr., and subsequently saved the world. I guess it's because Goku never cashed in on his victories like Hercule did.

2. All the above is more Dragonball references. I never watched more than one or two episodes of the Dragonball anime, but I read most of the manga I downloaded. Everything I include is from the manga, and I used specific descriptions of Baba's place in the desert.

3. Another little jewel from the manga. Uranai means "fortuneteller". Urenai means "unmarried" or "not popular". Goku keeps calling Baba Urenai instead of Uranai. Makes for some funny scenes.

4. If you got a little confused in this paragraph, Master Roshi is the Turtle Master, Karin - or Korin - is the Cat Master, and the Crane Master, as far as I remember, is never given a name, but he is the sensei of Tien and Chaotzu and the rival of Master Roshi. Roshi ends up defeating the Crane Master when Tien refuses to kill Goku.

5. This is the translation of the song that Baba sings in the manga to make Yamcha's fight against the Invisible Man more difficult. I think I heard her sing in the anime, but I can't remember those words. I think it's just kind of funny.

6. This is very cute. When Goku is trying to find Bulma and Krillen in the pirate's cave, he's going against an octopus while Krillen's going against General Blue. Goku calls the octopus a cuttle fish at first. The octopus tries to eat Goku, and then Goku cheerfully grills the octopus with a kamehameha. It's the most cavalier killing Goku ever commits. He then eats the octopus. Can we all say 'yum'?

7. I cheated and took this story from my other fic, "Being of Sound Mind and Body". Of course, the histories don't mesh, since I stay more in canon with "Being" than with "The Soul" - when it comes to Vegeta's past. If there's anyone who reads both of my fics, they'll appreciate this little reference. You can find it in chapter 8 of "Being".

8. All right, these were cheap shots. I'm sure these scenes in Dragonball differed in the manga, the Japanese anime, and the English dub anime. I'll just mention what I know. In the manga, and probably the Japanese anime, Bulma gets a dragonball from Roshi in their first meeting by showing him her panties. Little does she know that Goku already relieved her of that all-important article of clothing when he was confused - and shocked - about her lack of male - umm - body parts. And then there's how Yamcha defeats the Invisible Man. As I said before, Baba was singing loudly so that Yamcha couldn't hear the movements of the Invisible Man. So Krillen, little pervert that he is, tells Goku to fetch Bulma and Master Roshi. In the manga, and, again, probably the Japanese anime, Krillen positions Bulma with her back to the ring and Roshi facing her with his head tilted slightly upward. Krillen then pulls up Bulma's shirt, where we get treated to a huge shot of Bulma's breasts. (Am I the only one that finds it strange that Bulma was going bra-less. And I don't mean her future child. Especially when Toriyama draws the breasts as twice as big as when she's wearing clothing. She shouldn't be able to pull off the bra-less look.) Anyway, Master Roshi subsequently has a nosebleed, as he always does when confronted with nude females, and douses the Invisible Man with blood. Now, in the English dub anime, the red substance is tomato soup, which they explain in the dialogue that the group is going to have a picnic . . . with tomato soup . . . right . . . And they needed both Roshi and Bulma . . . why? Just some funny observations. Apparently the Bulma in this chapter works for Funimation. Oh, well.

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Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (I'm jealous! I want $5 pizzas. And now you're making up for that string of time with few uploads. You've almost finished! Me, I have a ways to go. Hope you enjoyed this one.), aqua-illusion (I'm sorry for the crappy week. I hope you're better now. If not, maybe you can get into another good mood with this chapter.), tim333 (You are MUCH better than I about updating. And I hope you enjoyed all the Dragonball manga references this chapter, you manga purist you. Not that there's anything WRONG with that. Heh-heh. Moving on. I thought Jiten was pretty great myself. I think it's tragic when little kids can't be little kids, so I wanted to give Jiten a little kid personality. Hope I kept that up this chapter.), supersaiyaman (A new reviewer! I'm not sure, but I think all your questions are answered in the story so far. Hope you keep reading.), sakura117us (Another new reviewer! I feel so special . . .), and ssj4mystiephrase12369 (There's my WinMX MST3K fan. Sorry I haven't seen you in the chat room lately, but I've been busy with writing and school. It's a hard life. I may look for you just to tell you that the chapter's up. Of course, if you're reading this, you already know that. Ok.)

My next chapter may take a bit to get out. Finals are imminent, and deadlines can be heard in the distance like drumbeats heralding a beheading. (I'm not called Poetess for nothing.) Until next time.