A PERFECT LOVE
A/N: This was my entry into this year's Chestnut Fest for K18 day! I had a ton of fun writing this one-shot! I admit it's a long one. But I hope you'll stick around. Without further ado, let's begin...
Arm Wrestle
"AHH! I can't believe you beat me again!" Eighteen bellowed with a theatrical tone in her voice. Marron couldn't contain the joyous excitement within her as she victoriously punched the air. Her exhilarated delight swiftly spread onto her mother in the form of a soft smile.
"Let's play again, Mommy!" Marron requested, eagerly bouncing on the spot. Eighteen didn't take much convincing, replying in an instant,
"Alright! But this is seriously the last time, okay?"
Marron rapidly bobbed her head to her mother's concession. Mostly because this was the fifth "last time" Eighteen had stated in a row, paired with the fact that they had been playing this game almost non-stop throughout the afternoon heading into the evening.
Eighteen had Goten and Trunks to thank for introducing Marron to the world of arm wrestling. Gladly fulfilling the role of the avid spectator, Marron would passionately cheer and clap for whoever was on the winning side during the young Saiyans fierce bouts for supremacy. Most of their encounters climaxed with both of their hair beginning to flicker into a certain golden hue before Chi-Chi and Bulma would be forced to sternly calm their sons down and put them in their place.
Naturally, the arm wrestling craze found its way into the Chestnut household, with both Krillin and Eighteen taking turns in being Marron's opponent. The result from each fight would mostly end in the same way: Marron would claim victory over whichever parent she was wrestling against. Not that either of them cared too much about losing; seeing their daughter rejoicing over her triumphs would forever be a win in their eyes.
"Are you ready to lose?" Eighteen playfully teased, readying herself for the next round. Marron scrunched her face together, responding with great confidence,
"Lose? I don't know the meaning of the word."
Eighteen rebuked the temptation to chuckle at her daughter's tough girl facade as she firmly placing her right arm on the dining table. Marron followed suit, tightly clasping onto her mother's hand, attempting to gain an early foothold.
Marron put all of her strength into winning the arm wrestle as speedily as she possibly could. But Eighteen refused to make things too easy for her daughter. She saw these arm wrestles as an opportunity to actually test her daughter's strength.
"Is that all you got?" Marron goaded with a straining voice. Eighteen retaliated by pushing back her daughter's arm with relative ease. Grinding her teeth together in desperation, Marron continued to persevere. She was determined to win, no matter what.
Yet, despite her valiant efforts, Eighteen could see her daughter was struggling to fight back. Her flushed cheeks, sweat covered forehead, and relentless panting showed that Marron couldn't carry on for much longer. Releasing a sigh both gentle and satisfied, Eighteen gradually loosened her strength, allowing Marron to pin her arm to the surface of the table.
"WOOHOO! I win again!" Marron cheered breathlessly, summoning enough energy to frantically race around the living room. Eighteen gladly sat back on the couch and observed her daughter take her victory laps with a relaxed grin.
Although she had to restrain much of her strength during their arm wrestles, Eighteen was pleased by Marron's tenacity, her relentless drive to win and her natural level of power. In fact, the more these bouts continued, the more Eighteen entertained the idea of her daughter maybe becoming a fighter some day.
Marron's celebrations came to a sudden halt as she heard the faint jingling of keys over by the entrance of the house. Anticipation led Marron's rapid footsteps to the front door. Hopping lightly on her toes, she could hardly wait to tell her father of her latest triumphs. Triumphs that Krillin never grew tired of hearing about.
"Hi, Daddy!" Marron enthusiastically welcomed her father into the house.
"Hey, Marron!" Krillin replied, giving his daughter a gentle tussle on her head, "How was your day?"
"Good!" Marron gleefully returned, as she started to detail how well she performed in arm wrestling. Krillin paid close attention to the barrage of words that his daughter was firing off. This gave Eighteen a chance to join the two of them by the wide entrance. She leaned her body on the wall, attentively listening along to her daughter's in-depth report of the day's events.
"… and so then I thought that I was about to lose for sure. But then, somehow, I managed to push Mommy arm back and beat her again. "Isn't that cool?"
"That definitely is cool," Krillin proudly replied, "especially since your mother can be quite the formidable opponent when it comes to these games. Speaking of which, how's your day been?"
"I think this little one here has pretty much covered everything you needed to hear." Eighteen answered contently.
"Fair enough." Krillin returned with a quick shrug as he made his way towards the living room.
For Krillin, nothing could beat the feeling of coming home from a hard day's work, planting himself onto his comfy couch, and be greeted by his loving family. He certainly needed it after the mess he had to deal with down at the police station.
"Why can't criminals just be honest about their misadventures and stop being so argumentative and troublesome once they're caught?" He helplessly wondered in his mind, "It would certainly make my job a hell of a lot easier."
Eighteen accompanied her husband on the sofa, observing him rub his tiresome eyes. She declined to prevent the endearing smile that effortlessly crawled across her lips. Eighteen never quite understood how, even when Krillin was doing the most ordinary things imaginable, he caused her to feel so content and at ease. It was a mystery she was perfectly happy to leave unsolved if it meant she could continue to feel that way.
Eighteen's gaze was soon averted by the sound of Marron dashing from the kitchen to deliver two ice-cold glasses of water for her parents to drink. Krillin looked up just in time to see the chilling refreshments reach their destination on the dining table in front of him and Eighteen.
"Aww! Thank you, Marron." Krillin gratefully stated, lifting his glass from the table, "This is exactly what I needed." As Krillin gulped his drink down in one go, Eighteen opted to take much smaller sips; she was in no rush to finish her drink, unlike her husband.
Choosing to make herself comfortable on one of the floor mats beside the dining table, Marron saw this as the appropriate moment to reveal a question which had been tirelessly bouncing around in her head,
"I have a question, Mommy!"
"What is it, honey?"
"Well, I have beaten you both you and Daddy at arm wrestling loads and loads of times now, right?'
"Right?"
"So, I was wondering. Who do you think would win in an arm wrestle: you or Daddy?"
"Oh! I think I would win." Eighteen answered without hesitation, delicately placing her refreshment back on to the dining table.
"Are you so sure about that?" Krillin responded urgently, offering his wife a generous opportunity to change her answer. His perplexed frown clearly indicated his disapproval of his wife's self-assured tone. Eighteen readjusted herself to face Krillin directly as she offered an amended response,
"Let me rephrase that: I think it would be close between us. However, I believe I would ultimately come out as the winner."
"Okay, Eighteen. I love you and everything and I'll admit, you're right about most things in life. That's why I can't quite understand why you have come to that conclusion so quickly." Krillin returned, softly tapping his fingers on his empty glass.
"Oh, come on. Quit fooling around." Eighteen advised her husband, preparing to finish her beverage, "You know I'm a lot stronger than you."
"In hand-to-hand combat, sure. But with arm wrestling, it's a totally different game your playing."
"Seriously, Krillin? You're telling me that a one-on-one fight is 'totally different' than an arm wrestle?"
"Err, sure."
Marron could sense the growing tension between her parents. Her eyes carefully studied their body language, curiously observing what was going to happen next.
"Alright, why don't we test your little theory?" Eighteen proposed, followed swiftly by a mischievous smirk. The ringing sound of Eighteen positioning her empty glass on the floor only added to the atmosphere.
"W-what are you saying?" Krillin retorted with a tone of apprehension. Lightly scratching the back of his head, he had a nervous suspicion as to where Eighteen was taking this conversation.
"I'm saying that we should have an arm wrestle, right here, right now."
"Umm, really? Like, right now?"
"Didn't you hear me, sweetie?" Eighteen sarcastically taunted, tilting her head onto her left shoulder. Krillin's face quickly drained of colour; he could see in the sharp gleam of his wife's eyes that she wasn't kidding around.
"W-well, I've just come back from a long, hard day's work, catching criminals and whatnot." Krillin reasoned, clearly trying to cover up his nervousness, "So I'm not gonna be at full strength."
"HAHAHA! Oh, Krillin!" Eighteen chuckled softly at her husband's reply. She wasn't in any way fooled by Krillin's attempts to back out of her proposition.
"What? Why are you laughing?" Krillin curiously quizzed his wife. Irritation rapidly spread across his face as Eighteen's chuckle increased in both volume and intensity. This was a rare occasion where Krillin wasn't at all pleased to see Eighteen laughing at his antics. As a matter of fact, she was laughing for much longer compared to when he purposely joked around. At least, that's what it felt like to him. Gradually calming her laughter down, Eighteen remarked coolly,
"That's one of the funniest things I've heard from you in a long time. Your excuses really do crack me up sometimes."
"It's most certainly not an excuse." Krillin firmly protested, watching Eighteen gracefully pounce away from the couch.
She was quickly breaking Krillin's defences down; it was only a matter of time before he would give in to the pressure she was smartly applying.
Eighteen abruptly paused herself directly opposite her husband. The dining table operated as a barrier between the couple. She slowly knelt down on a floor mat, before offering an enticing blow,
"To be perfectly honest, I think you're just scared." Her icy delivery perfectly matched her chilling stare.
"N-no. What do I have to be afraid of?" Krillin objected in growing agitation to his wife's implication, "If anything, you would be under much more pressure, being that you're considerably stronger than I am." Eighteen intensely refuted such claims with a firm reproach,
"That is ridiculous and you know it."
"OKAY! I've heard enough from you two!" Marron spontaneously erupted, "Now, are you guys gonna keep on blabbering or am I going to see some arm wrestling?!" She had wisely decided to remain silent throughout her parents' exchange, cautiously analysing them to see whether or not an arm wrestle was truly on the cards. It seemed obvious to her now that she was finally about to get her wish.
"Well, I know I'm up for the challenge." Eighteen promptly responded with eagerness, "How about you, Krillin? Are you gonna prove your more than just talk or are you gonna wimp out?" An audible groan trailed directly behind him as Krillin urgently looked away from his wife and daughter.
He recognised that for all his earlier talk, his chances of actually defeating Eighteen in an arm wrestle were very marginal. It would take some kind of miracle to overcome such a ruthless opponent. Although, he couldn't deny his inner desire to prove himself and his wife wrong. It could actually prove to be an accurate barometer as to how strong he had become since resuming his training again. He wasn't going to allow fear to cripple him in the face of opportunity. With a renewed sense of confidence, Krillin boldly accepted the challenge,
"Okay, Eighteen! You're on!"
"HOORAY!" Marron exclaimed rapturously, as her father positioned himself unto the floor. He began to flex his arms in preparation for the upcoming contest. He was going to need all the strength he could muster if he was going to come out on top. His stretches caught his wife's attention, asking with bewilderment,
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm just stretching. Because unlike somebody here, I don't have unlimited stamina. So I'm just preparing myself." Krillin wasn't wrong; Eighteen had a huge advantage over him when it came to endurance. What he hoped would become the deciding factor was his tactical ability. Once he had his plan figured out, Krillin took a deep breath and gripped unto his wife's opposite hand.
"Don't expect me to go easy on you, globe head." Eighteen teased expressively. Krillin refused to let such an obvious bald joke slide so easily,
"Well, don't think you've already won the battle, babe."
"What? That wasn't even an insult."
"I know that!" Krillin returned hastily, "You know I'm no good at trash talk."
"Hey! Are you two ready yet?" Marron announced impatiently. Krillin and Eighteen synchronically nodded their heads in approval as they gradually turned to face each other, trying their hardest to put each other off with their intimidating stares.
They were wholly focused on their opponent. It was as if time itself had come to a halt just for this event; like everything around them instantaneously faded away into nonexistence. Because all that mattered to them right now was this moment. All that mattered was who was going to be the victor.
With a sudden clearing of her throat, Marron sounded the beginning of the arm wrestle,
"3-2-1… WRESTLE!"
Eighteen immediately gained the upper hand, forcing her husband to react expeditiously to her offensive strategy. Her rapid start almost caused him to lose the clash before it even started. Krillin strained to force his arm back up, but it appeared to be futile. It was as if Eighteen's arm had transformed into an immovable mountain in his path, whilst his arm quivered like jelly. Surely, it was an inevitability before his arm would hit the table.
"What's the point?" He resigned in deep frustration, "How on earth am I supposed to win now?" The urge to throw in the towel and end the fight was rapidly becoming a viable option for him. Yet, as he turned his head towards his daughter, he soon realised that kind of mentality wouldn't send the right message for her. A brief grin snuck onto his face as he heard Marron cheer buoyantly,
"Go Daddy! Go Mommy! Go Daddy! Go Mommy!"
Eighteen caught the smile which had now vanished from her husband's lips; she sensed something was beginning to brew within him. Maybe now, she could expect a real fight compared to what was currently being presented to her.
Soon enough, the gap between Krillin's arm and the dining table started to widen. Briskly casting aside his self-doubts, he pushed forward with much more conviction and power.
"Now this is more like it." She thought to herself, pleased by Krillin's refusal to give up. Despite this, she wasn't going to hand over the victory to him. Far from it.
As Marron's chanting swelled with excitement, Krillin tactically inched his elbow closer to his opponent's. His swift movement startled Eighteen; she could feel her grip loosening fast.
Krillin couldn't contain the nervous euphoria surrounding him. He was getting closer and closer to a shock victory. He even gained his daughter's support,
"COME ON DADA! YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!" He was almost there. All he needed to do was to push himself a little more.
"I'm going to win this!" Krillin mentally repeated to himself, as if he was reciting a religious mantra. His smile widened. His eyes flashed. His heart vigorously pounded. The victory was surely inches away from him now. However, inches away from victory was still recognised as a defeat. Before Krillin knew it, Eighteen had unexpectedly pinned his arm to the table.
"YAY! Well done Momma!" Marron joyously congratulated Eighteen for her victory. After giving her daughter a brief high-five, she shifted her attention to her devastated opponent,
"It looks like I won, honey. As expected of course." Eighteen gloated smugly.
Krillin was in a state of shock. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He was sure he had won. There was no possible way he should have lost. Except, that was exactly what Eighteen was counting on.
She knew that her husband's surprise to how well he was performing would lead to misplaced arrogance, which in itself would lead to a lack of concentration. All she needed to do was soak up the pressure and wait for the perfect moment to strike.
Blankly staring at the dining table, Krillin was slowly accepting his cruel defeat. He could at least be proud by just how close he had come. At least he wanted to be. Except, that same burning desire he felt before was still unquenched; he knew he was far from finished.
"Hmm. I mean you have been practicing with Marron throughout the day, so…" Krillin childishly sulked, slowly wiping away the lingering sweat from his brow.
"What's that suppose to mean, Krillin?" Eighteen sharply retorted, finely squinting her eyes at him. Krillin nervously gulped and stammered at his wife's agitated glare. Shivers would always crawl up his spine whenever her eyes pierced at him like that.
He could have avoided his wife's annoyance if he had simply taken the loss with a bit of dignity, instead of coming up with the first excuse that clumsily popped out of his head. In the vain hope that he could appease his wife, Krillin presented a cautious clarification:
"I-I'm just trying to say that I would consider that round to be something of a warm-up. That's all." A muted chuckle escaped Eighteen's breath. Her husband's excuses reminded her of when she and Krillin lived together at Kame House.
While she would normally consider herself and Krillin to be fairly mature people, she could easily recall how their maturity would conveniently disappear in the name of 'friendly competition'. They were both equally guilty when it came to being overly competitive. Neither of them were very good losers; Master Roshi could attest to that.
"Well then, since you're all warmed up now, why don't we have ourselves a rematch?" Eighteen chillingly proposed as her fingers patiently danced around the dining table. Eighteen understood that the wiser choice was to take the win and quit. But where was the fun in that?
"Wait?! Are you two about to have a rematch?!" Marron called loudly from the kitchen, finishing to clean her parents' empty glasses. She was ecstatic to hear her father's sudden reply,
"You bet!"
"Don't you dare start without me!" Marron echoed with enthusiasm. In great anticipation for her parents' next encounter, she eagerly charged from the kitchen to claim her seat on her floor mat.
Krillin had already set his arm in place, wishing to waste no time and get right back into the action. Eighteen chose to take her time, offering a passing taunt to her husband as she calmly rested her chin on her cupped hands:
"I take it you're not going to stretch this time?" Her remark appeared to have fallen upon deaf ears, as Krillin declined to offer any form of retaliation. He was just trying to zone her out as best he could; he wasn't going to tangle himself up in her mind games.
Rolling her eyes in disappointment with her husband's sudden seriousness, she clutched unto Krillin's hand, signalling the beginning of their next bout.
Deciding to take a more level-headed approach into this round, Krillin was determined not to allow his emotions to get the better of him. His renewed attitude was instantly rewarded by a more evenly matched start to the wrestle.
Eighteen was pleasantly surprised by the firm resistance her husband was exhibiting. Despite the odds, he was putting on a good fight. But neither of them were using all of their strength yet. They were both choosing to play their cards close to the chest and hold out for the long haul. At least, that's what Eighteen assumed.
Without remorse, Krillin nimbly adjusted his elbow rightwards, giving himself a strategic edge. Knowing this was a similar approach to their previous fight, Krillin placed his confidence in his mental state. He was in control of his emotions. He was in control as to whether he won or lost this arm wrestle.
Eighteen countered by securely rooting her elbow in place. She was more than prepared to play the defensive role again in this battle. Yet, the way Krillin had positioned his arm genuinely made things awkward for her. Despite this setback, she continued to push on.
"WOW! This match is way closer than before!" Marron vehemently noted. She was deeply enthralled by the display her parents were giving. Not even she could tell who was going to win this round.
Firmly deadlocked, Krillin unleashed a set of frustrated and tiresome grunts. The adrenaline furiously pumping around his body was causing his arm to wobble under the intense pressure he was under. No matter how much force he was pushing with, he was getting no closer to victory. Nevertheless, he endured through the pain, taking extended, drawn-out breaths in the process.
It wasn't long until Eighteen perceived the sheer exhaustion her husband was exerting. She could see the struggle he was facing through every drop of sweat and every violent puff of his chest. Even Marron's cheers died down due to Krillin's shattered intensity. Something clearly wasn't right.
Worry suddenly gripped Eighteen. She hated the sight of her husband overworking himself. Straining to get her words out, Eighteen made her concerns known:
"G-give it up, Krillin. Don't push yourself too much." Krillin's eyes gaped open at the sound of her voice; he could see the troubled expressions on his wife and daughter. To them, he had done more than enough; he had demonstrated that he could, in fact, hold his own.
But even though they may have felt that way, that wasn't enough for him. He hadn't come this far just to lose. Slamming his eyes shut, he rejected Eighteen's plea.
"I-I'm not giving in." With that, he jolted his arm forward, giving everything he could to overcome his greatest opponent; himself.
Eighteen sensed that this was quickly becoming more than just a game for Krillin. This was something personal for him. For that reason, she struggled to force her arm forward anymore; something was holding her back.
Was it her admiration of his perseverance? Was it seeing him relentlessly straining to win? Or was it simply because she just found his intensity to be sort of heartwarming? Whatever the cause, she was perfectly fine with it. Soon enough, Eighteen's arm fell onto the base of the table; Krillin had actually done it.
"OH MY GOODNESS! Daddy won!" Marron cheerfully announced, rushing over to pat her father on the back.
A sudden burst of relieved laughter reverberated from the worn out monk; an overwhelming joy swept through him. He had just beaten the toughest woman on the planet in an arm wrestle, and he was going to make that perfectly clear, boasting jubilantly,
"I-I won! I actually beat you, Eighteen! I beat you!" Not knowing exactly how to celebrate his victory, Krillin allowed his instincts to take complete control. He shot up to his feet and proceeded to awkwardly dance around on the spot. Marron quickly joined him in his elation, laughing at her father's ridiculous victory dance. Not even Eighteen could keep a straight face,
"You truly are such a goon sometimes." She pondered to herself, "But thankfully, you're my goon." Eighteen continued to watch her husband bask in his triumph. She wanted him to have his little bit of fun, remaining silent in spite of his repeated confirmations that he had, in fact, beat her in a friendly game of arm wrestling,
"I am the winner! I am the winner!" Unfortunately, there was only so much gloating that Eighteen was willing to put up with,
"Yeah, I get it. You won. But only because you cheated." Her claim certainly captured Krillin's attention. Rooting himself next to his wife, he requested an explanation for her bold insinuation:
"Hold on. How did I cheat exactly?" It was at that moment that Eighteen realised that she couldn't just say that he cheated without any form of basis for her reasoning. Thankfully for her, thinking on her feet was something of a speciality,
"You only beat me because your adorable stare was putting me off." Eighteen's soft reply caught her husband off-guard. A slight touch of red splashed his cheeks as he stared into Eighteen's limpid blue eyes.
"Wait, are you serious?" Krillin asked with a hint of hesitation.
"Yeah! Of course." Eighteen calmly answered, "How could I possibly resist your precious little dimples, along with your warm, brown eyes?"
Krillin granted that his instincts should take over once again, taking a hold of his wife's hand. It earnestly meant the world to him when Eighteen complemented him. It was just a shame that the best lies always had a hint of truth in them.
"That's actually really sweet of yo-. Wait a second. I ain't falling for that!" Snapping back into reality, he released his hand from his wife's limp grip, dramatically turning his back on a now alarmed Eighteen.
"What do you mean? That's the truth!" She reaffirmed, trying to place her hand on Krillin's shoulder. Ignoring her attempts of affection, he called upon the help of an impartial party to uncover the truth of the situation,
"Okay! Marron, what do you think? Is Mummy telling the truth or is she lying to me?" Marron energetically rose from the ground, taking small steps to where her mother was sitting. Proceeding to follow in her father's footsteps, she attentively examined her mother's body language as she gently massaged her chin. Eighteen remained as perfectly composed; she wasn't planning on receiving a lecture from both her husband and her daughter about her actions. As Marron finished her investigation, she travelled to the centre of the room, intending to deliver her verdict:
"I believe that Mommy is lying!"
"Marron?!" Eighteen bellowed in dismay, bemused that Marron had taken her father's side, even though it was the truth. Leaping away from his wife, Krillin expressed his gratitude for Marron's stern decision-making,
"Thank you for your unbiased call there. I was almost taken for a fool."
Casting her eyes to the floor, Eighteen couldn't help but feel slightly culpable for not just admitting that her husband had beaten her equitably. Maybe it was her old competitive nature kicking back into gear. Then again, he had been excessively celebrating a little too much for her liking. And now she had been caught red-handed, her husband requested a clear admission from her:
"Just confess, honey! I beat you fair and square!" Eighteen looked up at Krillin as he playfully smirked at her. She knew that it was for the best to just get it out of the way. It was just unfortunate for Krillin that Eighteen was now in the mood for a little revenge of her own,
"Fine! You beat me fair and square. Now, let's just stop arguing about this and have one more round to decide who the true champion is between us!"
"Yeah! Come on, Daddy!" Marron ebulliently agreed with her mother's proposition.
"No way!" Krillin immediately returned, folding his arms in defiance to both of their wishes, "I'm more than happy to call it a night and walk away with my well-deserved victory!"
He was just as shocked as everyone else that he even managed to beat Eighteen in the first place. And judging by not only her tone of voice but her expressive mannerisms, Eighteen was resolute to prove that his win was nothing more than a fluke. Irrespective, he wasn't going to budge; there was nothing Eighteen or Marron could say that could convince him to change his mind.
"How about a wager, then?" Eighteen blurted out in desperation. She could practically see her husband's ears peak up due to her suggestion. A defeated sigh followed as Krillin returned to the dining table,
"I'm listening."
"I have some ideas, but I think it's best to let Marron decide."
"Really, Mommy?" Marron answered with sheer delight.
"Certainly! Don't you agree, babe?"
How the tables had turned on Krillin. Not only had he been coaxed into yet another arm wrestle, but now he didn't even get to decide what punishment he got to inflict on Eighteen after he defeated her. Still, there was no escaping the puppy-like appearance on his daughter's face. He resigned to Marron's cuteness with a compliant nod.
Gratefully, Krillin and Eighteen didn't have to wait long to hear their daughter's suggestions. But if her smile hinted at anything, it was that these forfeits were going to be cruel,
"Okay! If Mommy wins, then Daddy has to show off his victory dance the next time we visit auntie Bulma's house."
"Ooooh! That's a good one!" Eighteen added, observing Krillin's sudden shriek of terror. His dance moves were for his family and for his family only. Even the very thought of him having to dance around as Vegeta and Bulma gawked at him sent goosebumps across his body.
"I guess I don't have much of a choice but to accept." Krillin hopelessly rationalised, trying to get the image of potential embarrassment out of his head, "So what happens if Daddy wins?"
"If Daddy wins, then the next time we go shopping, Mommy isn't allowed to spend any money on herself; she can only buy presents for myself and for Daddy." Krillin could definitely get behind that forfeit, especially since it almost caused Eighteen to faint out of sheer horror. Who knew their daughter was capable of such brutality?
"Now that's just downright mean." Eighteen stated, shaking her head at Marron's mischievous giggling, "However, if there is still the possibility of watching your father make a total ass out of himself, then it's worth the risk."
"You just better be prepared to get me some new weights once I beat you." Krillin confidently remarked, wiggling his eyebrows around.
"We'll just see about that."
With the forfeits settled, Krillin and Eighteen set their arms in place for the final round. Marron climbed onto the couch to spectate this decisive encounter. There was only one thing she was concerned about: Who was going to be the Ultimate Chestnut Arm Wrestling Champion?
The sound of the firm collision of their hands pulsated around the house as they both started on the attack. Neither of them were prepared to face the gruelling punishments that their daughter had set up for them. The effervescent support from Marron was beginning to fall into the background; Krillin and Eighteen were going to give everything they had to win this contest.
The match lasted much longer than expected. The lucent moon now stood gallantly amongst the distant stars in the night sky. Not that Krillin or Eighteen particularly noticed the passing of the evening taking place outside of their window.
Despite all of their straining and their struggling, there was still no clear victor.
Eighteen had imitated her husband's techniques by appropriately shifting her elbow with the intention to overwhelm her stubborn opponent. But it didn't do her many favours since Krillin knew how to defend against it. Things weren't much better for him either. The longer this bout went on, the wearier he was becoming. At this rate, Eighteen would defeat him on endurance alone.
Despite this, it seemed as if she didn't want to finish the job. And if he was honest with himself, if he had the chance, neither would he.
They could tell by their passing glances that this arm wrestle had lost its original purpose. Time certainly had its influence in this, but it wasn't the main factor. Because behind all the playful banter and competitive undertones, they were both secretly content with each other's performance.
"H-hey, Eighteen." Krillin unexpectedly murmured.
"What is it?" Eighteen returned, keeping her eyes focused on her wrestling arm, "You better not be trying to distract me."
"I'm not. But have you noticed that it's gone really quiet in here?" The only audible sound that could be heard was the droning buzz of their ageing refrigerator.
"Yeah, so what?" Krillin let out a small sigh at his wife's unawareness.
"Well, what's happened to Marron?"
"What do you mea-"
Tracing where Krillin's free hand was pointing, it was now obvious to her why the house had become so still. Marron was fast asleep on the couch. As they listened closer, they could just about detect a faint snore coming from their daughter's mouth.
"Uh, what do you know." Eighteen whispered gently. It was pretty ironic that the person who had kicked off this arm wrestling business was now curled up in a ball, peacefully snoring away. Gingerly swerving his head to look at the window, Krillin gasped in amazement by just how rapidly the evening had elapsed:
"Have we seriously been arm wrestling for that long?"
"I guess we have."
Their eyes returned back to their clammy hands, which were still tightly interlocked. Astonishingly, neither of them had attempted to take advantage and win the contest. They had simply stopped pushing. There was no need to anymore. Of course, it would have been funny to see their spouse partake in a forfeit. But they knew it wasn't necessary. Locking their eyes at each other, they let out an amicable surrender:
"It's a tie."
They both remained seated opposite one another, feeling as if a weight had seamlessly floated off from their shoulders. It actually gave them both a chance to catch their breath back, especially Krillin, who could feel the irritating heat from his cheeks ebbing away. He casually sat up on his knees, ready to ask his wife the query which was on his mind,
"Now you got to admit it. I gave you a bit of a challenge there, didn't I?"
"I guess you were a bit tougher than I had predicted." Eighteen replied with a comforting calmness, gently stroking her thumb across his fist, "It's good to see that the training equipment we bought is still showing its worth."
"Well, you know I gotta be strong for my girls. You two are more important to me than anything in the world." Her lips instantly mirrored her husband's sincere smile. Eighteen made it no secret; she utterly adored how protective Krillin was over her and their daughter.
"By the way, I'm sorry that I got a bit serious earlier." Krillin added as his content smile abruptly faded, "It's just, I dunno. I always feel like I have to prove myself and I-"
Eighteen immediately raised her hand to silence his voice. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He wasn't required to explain himself to her. Eighteen understood her husband like the back of her own hand. She knew all about his doubts and his trials.
"It's fine. I understand, sweetie." She answered with elegance, squeezing his hand once more. Any sign of insecurity vanished from him as she lovingly added,
"I'm proud of you."
Krillin's smile quickly returned back to him. He genuinely didn't believe that Eighteen recognised just how much her encouragement meant to him. Krillin often wondered to himself how she possessed her gift to eradicate his doubts with only her words. He wanted to repay her the only way he knew how:
"You know, if you're not too tired, we could settle the score in a different way." Krillin's enticing gaze, paired with his alluring tone was all it took to have Eighteen persuaded, responding without delay:
"I'm way ahead of you."
"Well then, lead the way."
Unwilling to let go of each other's hands, they silently arose from the floor, as not to disturb their daughter from her deep slumber, and made their way to the staircase.
They somehow remained composed, despite the tingling sensations they felt from within. It still astounded them that even after their many years of marriage, they still behaved like newlyweds when it came to intimacy.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Krillin threw to his wife a legitimate question:
"So, who do you think would win in an arm wrestle: you or your brother?" Eighteen delicately jabbed her husband on the arm, responding with a raised brow,
"Is that supposed to be a trick question or something?"
"No." Krillin replied, jokingly waving his hands in front of his chest, "I just wanted to make sure you knew what the right answer was."
Although there wasn't a clear victor between them during their intense arm wrestles, they guaranteed that they would both be winners by the end of the night. Proceeding to enter their bedroom, they instinctively made their adoration for each other clear, just one more time:
"I love you, globe head."
"I love you too, babe."
THE END