Ok so I may have gotten a little distracted by starting another university degree sorry about that.
Turns out in order to write fanfiction I need looming essay deadlines. What can I say, I'm a mess.
Chapter 18, otherwise entitled: Holding out for a Hero
"No matter where you are
No matter how far
Just call my name
I'll be there in a hurry
You don't have to worry!
'Cause baby
There ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you" - Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell
For the sake of speeding to Krillin's rescue – we cut to a montage.
(Set to an 80's power pop song if you're that way inclined. Which, let's face it, if you've made it this far, you probably are.)
Yamcha and Roshi were the first to strike gold. They found a dragonball in the clutches of some bandits in the Diablo Desert region. Yamcha had a small cosmic moment wherein he realised that he had roughly come full circle; he wondered if these bandits could be defeated by just showing them a human woman as he had been all those years ago. This introspective train of thought was immediately forgotten as he dodged a home-made grenade. Rude.
It didn't take too long for Yamcha and the Turtle hermit to fight and subdue the gang, despite them putting up a rather ferocious effort to keep the dragonball. As it turned out, they were under the impression it was some gigantic ruby, and therefore worth a hell of a lot of zeni.
Well, thought Yamcha as he pocketed it, enough money could sort of grant wishes.
The bandits had also suffered a small moral quandary about fighting an elderly gentleman – until, of course, said elderly gentleman had kicked their leader so hard he flew about 40 feet into the air and out of one of his shoes.
Yamcha almost felt bad for them.
…Almost.
-Gohan and Oolong were next. They had followed the radar to a lake and realised with matching sinking feelings that the dragonball was moving. They eventually found it in the belly of an enormous catfish, and it was all going rather well until Oolong decided that noodling would be an appropriate way to catch a fish larger than a mid-range SUV.
It was not.
They arrived at Capsule Corp later that day soaking wet and shivering with both the dragonball and catfish in tow. On the plus side, thought Chichi as she used one of Bulma's hairdryers to dry her sodden child, now she didn't need to go shopping for that evenings dinner.
-17, 18 and Ché split up to cover more ground in Central City. After double-checking the next dragonball's location on the radar, 17 and Ché headed into the city's Museum of Natural History to comb the galleries. 18 followed the radar to a tall, old-looking office building a few streets away to collect the other.
She floated up the outside of the building, ignoring the double take of the office workers who spotted her fly past the little old-fashioned windows. It was the 3rd floor window she stopped at, radar telling her she was almost where she needed to be. She glared in through the glass into the seemingly empty but high-end office decorated with mahogany bookcases, leather furniture and antiques.
18 prepared to smash the window, ransack the room and metaphorically leg it before anyone saw her. But she was too late.
From a door to the left, a familiar face appeared. A familiar airheaded face.
"OH!" She could see Maron's mouth make a surprised shape, and then split into a cheerful grin.
She waved. 18 dumbly waved back.
Maron was dressed way more conservatively than 18 had previously seen, and with her headset and armful of folders – she could almost be mistaken for a serious and sensible person. That was until 18 realised that Maron had started having a full but utterly mute conversation with her through the glass.
There was much waving of arms and attempts at charades until the fourth iteration of "just open the pissing window Maron!" seemed to sink in. Soon 18 found herself (well, her top half at least) inside the building.
"I remember you! Eighteen! You were there when I stayed over at Krilly's!"
18 made a strangled noise as Maron carried on oblivious.
"Why are you here? Do you have a Will to dispute?"
"A will? Do I look like I need a- would I not have just come in through the door?!" 18 took a second to take in the office, it was the muted browns and reds of a prestigious Law Firm. Her files on Maron reminded her that the woman was a receptionist. God help them, thought 18. "No, no look Majon-MARON (goddamn these names), you have something in here I need."
The blue haired beauty nodded sagely, "Legal representation."
"What no, dammit Maron this is serious. I'm looking for a dragonball-"
The other woman snorted with amusement.
18 rubbed her eyes in frustration, "They're not actual – LISTEN. I'm looking for an orange ball that looks like its made of stone or glass. Has a stars on it."
At this, 18 figured she could see the cogs in the other woman's head turning very slowly. Maron paused for a second before heading through a door on her left. 18 wondered whether she should follow, but before the thought was fully formed, the other woman re-emerged holding a 3 starred dragonball.
18's face lit up, "That's it! Thank you!" She reached towards the orb, but it was pulled away from her grasping hands.
Maron frowned at her. "This was on the shelf in my Boss's office, she likes to collect pretty old things. She's going to know its missing and I'll get in trouble."
The android shrugged and reached for it again, "Just tell her you've sent it away to get it polished or you're worried it might be radioactive or something."
Maron took a step back. "I don't know."
18 threw her hands in the air, then grabbed hold of the window-frame to stop herself from falling out, "Look woman, I need that to help rescue Krillin. He's in danger and that's the only thing that can save him," she said with both exasperation and an oddly dramatic flair.
At this, Maron looked genuinely upset.
"He's in trouble?"
"Up to a regular-sized man's neck."
"I really liked him." Said Maron earnestly, "He'll treat you like a princess if you let him."
18 deflated a little, "I don't even let him, but somehow he manages it."
"That's coz he's a sweetie-pie."
18 tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to avoid looking into Maron's enormous and strangely knowing aqua eyes. "He's a pain in the ass, is what he is." She grumbled.
There was a sound of footfall in the corridor outside the office and Maron squeaked. The dragonball was stuffed into 18's empty hands, softly glowing with an unearthly amber light. Thrilled, shocked and thankful, the android looked up at the other woman, "Really?"
"Go save Krillin! Quickly! Go before my Boss gets here!"
What felt like a meteorite of elation hit her at 1000 miles an hour, "Thank you so much Maron I mean it! I'm gonna name my firstborn after you I swear to Dende."
She pulled the blue-haired woman in for a split-second hug, being careful not to crush her tiny frame. She hoped she wouldn't regret saying that. Where was that godforsaken inhibitor when she needed it.
18 found her brother and his boyfriend (? Date? Therapist with benefits?) running out of the 'pretty crystals' section of the museum (to give it it's scientific name) as alarms screeched around them. They were two dragonballs down.
She was starting to feel hopeful.
Well, that and another emotion.
"Hey 17, remind me to get Bulma to check our blueprints to see if I actually have a uterus, I may have made a terrible terrible promise."
Tienshinhan and Chiaotzu were similarly lucky in avoiding violence in search of their dragonball. They had retrieved it with no fighting needed at all, which they had both been very thankful for. It had been a very long time since either of the ex-Crane school students had beaten civilians for their own gain, and neither wanted to kick start that habit again.
The dragonball had been in the possession of an art dealer, and the decidedly odd pair had talked (or indeed bullied, as Chiaotzu would later correct) them out of his hands in just under an hour.
They found their second dragonball around an hour later as they stared through the bedroom window of a small child. It was there, across the room, balanced on the turret of a toy castle. In between them and the orb was the eponymous small child napping. Chiaotzu cracked his tiny white knuckles and concentrated.
He had managed to levitate the dragonball three quarters of the way across the room before being utterly distracted by the radio on the Dragon radar crackling to life with Bulma's tinny voice.
"BLUE LEADER TO BERT AND ERNIE – WE HAVE THREE TEAMS BACK AT BASE- ONLY 3 BALLS REMAIN- WHAT'S YOU STATUS- OVER"
Bulma received a curt and pissy reply a second or two later, complete with sounds of crashing, a child crying hysterically, broken glass and adults yelling in the background.
Oh well, she thought as she winced at the ruckus, guiltily turning the sound right down to mute the chaos, at least there was only one dragonball left!
The sun was setting by the time a lone figure touched down at Capsule Corp with a small orange orb in his arms. Piccolo was last to return.
He would go on to blame his lateness on the fact Chichi had demanded that he quickly head over to the house, retrieve a certain well-watched movie and bring it back with him. Presumably to pass on the cursed item to the inhabitants of Capsule Corp. In reality, he completed this side mission very quickly.
His being hours behind everyone else may or may not have been because, being merged with an elderly Kami and all, he struggled to use the technology of the dragon radar and ended up accidentally installing 4 consecutive software updates in a row before booting it into a glacier in frustration.
Perhaps we'll never know.
4 hours and 36 minutes after they first set off; all seven Dragonballs were on a table in Bulma's laboratory. The mood had changed from earlier that day. There was hope in the air.
They would wish Krillin free of the Demon Promise and if they couldn't wish him out of the demon realm – they would go in after him. Easy. Victory was at hand.
Until, of course, Ms Briefs spoke up above the good-natured chatter of the room.
"We're not going to use them."
Piccolo scowled at her even harder than usual, "What do you mean we're not going to use them?"
Bulma held out her hands in apology, "Well, I mean we are going to put them to use, but not how we originally thought," she turned to Chichi, "Do you want to explain your idea?"
And so she spelled it out for them. If they simply overrode the Demon Promise and wished Krillin free, there was a good chance the distraught, hormonal and furious demoness they were crossing wouldn't let this lie. There would be retaliation. God knows, she said, glaring at the others around her, if she were in Majon's position, she'd want her pound of flesh. They needed to nip this in the bud; not invite more vengeance into their lives. When had someone they had wronged ever just given up?
"Oh I get it! Interrupted her son, "we need to give her a chance to change!"
"Bingo." She replied with a proud smile.
"What?" Piccolo growled. Yamcha gave a dramatic and frustrated sigh.
The boy nodded at him, earnest, "We've got to give her a chance. We have to."
His sensei and the others were unconvinced, "Gohan-"
"She's not bad, she's just angry. You're all here because you got a chance to make things right, right? It's what dad would do."
Silence.
There was no argument there.
Chichi wrapped her arm around the boy, "She deserves the same. Just because she never fought my Goku doesn't mean the one last chance rule doesn't apply."
There was grumbling agreement from around the lab. Piccolo said nothing, but wearily nodded. Fair was fair.
Yamcha tossed a dragonball in the air and caught it. "Okay, so we give her a chance – but we've already asked her nicely. How do the dragonballs come into – wait," he went wide-eyed, "Wait. You are NOT SUGGESTING-"
"I am Yamcha, I am."
And thus Chichi explained her grand idea.
Baba was more than ready to settle down for the evening with a mug of hot chocolate and an exceedingly filthy romance novel. But she couldn't.
The tiny witch had other business to settle first. She counted down the seconds until she would answer the door to her brother.
3,2,1 and- THUD THUD THUD
She swung the door open with a pleased little cackle.
"I don't think I need to be clairvoyant to know why you're here. Having a bit of trouble with some demons are we?"
Master Roshi was not in the mood. He was for the most part, stone-faced and serious.
Baba of course could tell he was feeling superbly guilty about the whole situation and found it very helpful in her never-ending quest to annoy him.
"I have a very busy and productive evening planned so unless you're going to make it worth my while then you can get lost." Baba crooned as she leaned on the doorframe.
He snorted, "A busy evening my ass, you'll be leafing through the Mills & Boons Dare section. What's on today's agenda? 'The Texas millionaire's Longhorn surprise'? 'Taken by the Were-Aardvark'? 'The Sheikh's secret-!"
"All right that's enough, Mr-I-watch-workout-tapes-to-stay-fit." she said as she jabbed a finger at him. "Anyways, why should I help you – You got yourselves into this mess in the first place."
"You didn't help to start with! You let me get drunk and run my mouth!"
"Let you?! I'm not your mother!"
"I should say so – the years were much kinder to her face than they have been with yours, you old bat!"
The front door slammed shut into the Turtle Hermit's moustachioed face.
"Ah," he said to himself very softly. Probably shouldn't have said that. He needed to not let her wind him up. First things first.
There came an apologetic tap tap tap at the door as Baba sulked behind it.
"Baba. Babaaaaaaa. I'm sorry I called you an old bat."
"and implied I've aged poorly!"
"and that I implied you aged poorly. You are in fact glowing and resplendent in your advanced age."
The door creaked open an inch.
"Where the hell did you learn the word Resplendent?"
"Ehehehe, well there's an antiques programme that comes on just before my exercise shows-" the door started to shut again, "BABA NO I'M JOKING!"
He forced himself between the door and the frame.
"Please Baba, we need your help for this. I need your help. I need to save the boy."
She huffed a little, put out by her brother's seriousness.
"I want something in return. Payment. I'll have an estimate to you by the end of the day! And believe me I'm not cheap." she said chirpily expecting a wince from Roshi. There was none.
A flash of light was reflected for a moment in his sunglasses, and he let out a croaky laugh.
Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he fished out a rectangular shaped object and placed it in his sister's hands.
"I believe this will cover it?"
It was a movie. The front of the case sleeve jam-packed with heavily muscled, rather damp men in bad spiky wigs and questionable prosthetic makeup. Longest Under the Heavens.
"I'll get my crystal ball."
Gohan arrived back at the Lookout, hoping Dende was as finished with work as a literal god could be. He was, for now at least.
They could finally hang out, play videogames, complain about how the adults in their life seemed to be fuelled by utter chaos, and stay on standby on the dragonradar's frequency. They had to be ready when 18 radioed through.
But for now, junk food and cartoons.
-
As Roshi arrived back at the lab with Baba in tow, Chichi was the first to thank the witch for helping (her daddy had raised her to respect her elders, after all). She could feel the plan coming together and see the change in mood in the room around her – especially in Android 18. There was hope in her eyes, sure, but oh boy was there a strange sort of worry in there too. Chichi knew exactly what it was. Hell, if 18 had been standing in front of her at the 23rd Budokai just before her match with Goku, she would have seen exactly the same thing.
"Thank you so much for helping us Fortune-teller Baba!"
The ancient woman blushed and waved a dismissive hand in an attempt at modesty, "Well Roshi asked me very nicely and I'm a good sibling."
Roshi trundled past towards his friends, "Also I gave her a dirty movie as payment."
Baba deflated a little, "That too."
Bulma led the old crone to the large mirror set up in the center of the room as the others started to gather round to see what she would do. 18 had never met the infamous Uranai Baba, and this tiny, wrinkled woman with pastel pink hair did not present the image of a powerful magical being. Still, she was happy with any help she could get.
Baba floated around it on her crystal ball, inspecting and mumbling to herself.
She turned to the group with a smirk, "So I hear you're staging a rescue! Nasty business those Demon Promises – but then again, getting involved with Demon folk is always dicey."
She caught Piccolo's eye and gave him a look and a smile that made him immeasurably uncomfortable; the witch radiated very ancient and uncanny power that made a deep, dark part of himself nervous.
She crowed up at him, "You didn't get your daddy's nose at least."
Piccolo bristled, "So why are you here?"
"Calm down there Junior. I'm helping," she said with a wink and a cackle (her laugh was disturbingly like her brothers), "I'm the sat nav, remember? Ehehehehe!"
Roshi nodded sagely, "We don't know where to look in the Demon Realm for Krillin. It's an entire world remember, and one that doesn't always follow the rules of our dimension. Searching for him would only attract unwanted attention, and there are more terrible beings that exist there than Majon."
The namekian said nothing, but instead narrowed his eyes and glowered at the tiny witch.
"I find where you need to go on the crystal ball, you direct the mirror portal. You can do that, can't you Junior?" She said with a firm pat on his bicep as she floated past him.
Piccolo glanced around the room; the others were looking back at him with a mixture of pleading, hopeful and anxious eyes, and he pushed his aggravation back down inside.
"Alright," He said, attempting to un-grit his teeth, "Let's get on with it then."
And they did. Baba's crystal ball lit up as she searched the fog within it. The room was quiet.
Ché leaned in close to the android twins, "Who… who's the tiny old woman?"
17 shrugged and turned to him, "Honestly, my files just say Not Enough Information. Possibly Eldritch. So I'm just trying not to make eye-contact with her."
18 was silent; fidgeting with her hair. Her eyes never left the scrying witch until eventually, Baba made a satisfied chuffing noise and looked up.
The fogs within the crystal ball had parted and a modest-sized, somewhat spiky dwelling had appeared in view – jackpot!
"Right, I've found her. Well… I found Akkuman really, I have a better connection to him anyway – he's been on my payroll for about 200 plus years after all. I'm assuming that since he hitched a ride, he'll still be with the others. And if he's not, you have my blessing to kick him to sleep if he doesn't give tell you where the boy is…. Hey, you ready over there?"
"When you are." Said Piccolo quietly, looking something akin to trepidatious as he stood by the mirror.
Baba looked around her, wry smile on her lips.
"So," she said with a strangely omniscient tone, "who's going in?"
"I am." Came a voice from across the room, unwavering.
18 would have liked to have said she surprised herself, but honestly? That would have been a lie.
It didn't really occur to Android 18 as she put on her denim jacket and rolled a hair-bobble onto her wrist, that no one had really truly pushed her to go. Or even go with her. They had deigned this Her Quest.
Everyone had offered, and she, for some reason she didn't quite understand; had turned them down. Tienshinhan, Piccolo, Yamcha (Gohan before he had left for the Lookout – who could click his fingers and set the world on fire) and even her brother– had quietly nodded and stepped back when she told them that this was for her and her alone. God, she was starting to sound like Vegeta, which was a whole issue unto itself.
What, so it was up to 18 to go rescue the damsel and save the day? Since when had that become a thing she did? And they just so readily accepted it?! Like she was one of the good gu-
Oh, she was one of the Good Guys now.
When did that happen?
She took a deep breath, pushing the wild emotions that were bubbling up back beneath the surface and continued prepping a duffel bag.
17 turned to his sister, his voice almost unsure.
"So what now? Piccolo opens the gate and you fight your way through the Demon Realm to save Krillin from the claws of his Demon Bride?"
18 looked up from packing a container of salt and a switch-blade into the bag, "Uh, yeah pretty much."
"But a-Mario, what if your princess is in another castle?"
"…..what if you shut your whore mouth Luigi."
"Imma just a-sayin."
"He'll be there. I'll find him."
"I hope you do, I kinda like the little moron. And you'll be such a fucking misery if you don't get him back."
"Hey," she grumbled as she turned her attention back to packing certain items in the bag, "I don't know what you mean by get him back; I never had him to begin with."
Had she been looking up, 18 would have seen her brother throw her such a look of incredulity she would have turned to dust under the pure judgement of his gaze.
Yamcha passed 18 a couple of the most important items she would need in the Demon Realm. She was nearly ready.
When did they start trusting her? Yamcha couldn't say. Had it been a fast or a slow creep? Her and her brother's constant quiet presence in their lives wearing away their fear like waves on a sandstone cliff.
Maybe it was the way she spoke to him. Softly and seriously. Or the way he saw her look at Krillin. He might have had one too many at his birthday party, but he saw it, they all saw it – her gazing down at him; eyes creased with good humour, sparkling with appreciation.
She was one of them now.
And they had every faith she would bring Krillin back to them.
Piccolo knelt by the mirror, ready in the center of the room. Beside him was Baba's crystal ball, the image of 18's destination emanating from its depths. He stared into it, brow furrowed and placed a hand flat on the surface of the mirror. 18 couldn't sense his ki, but she could see the faint outlines of red spiraling around him, down his arm and onto the metal. The reflection of the ceiling above it and the people gathered around looking down rippled and disappeared. The mirror was no longer a mirror – it was a door.
They were ready.
18 was ready.
With the duffel bag on her shoulder and a deep breath, she stepped into the void.
Nearly there! Any reviews, constructive criticism, general chit chat - throw me a line! It's all greatly appreciated! Seriously, thank you xxx